Disclaimer: I own neither Rise of the Guardians nor the Guardians of Childhood. I'm pretty sure Jude Law's voice-I mean, Pitch Black owns my nightmares. Seriously, he won't leave me alone. He's a jerk.

Chapter I: The First Vow

Most of inhabitants of the little hamlet of Burgess were sleeping through the arrival of a small snowfall, crafted so the children could play with snowballs and make snowmen the next morning. They never questioned that the winter season brought to them a certain joy that other places would call troublesome. Instead, they loved the chance to play and frolic, even though the children sometimes whispered they saw footprints in the snow and the sound of a child's laughter they couldn't see. One little girl, however, sees the snow outside her window, and fears.

Her nightmare calls the Boogeyman to visit. Pitch Black appears from the shade of a tree on the outskirts of the village. As he walks out of the shadows, the Nightmare King's sharp, yellow eyes glance up at the sky. The moon appears through a break in the clouds.

Pitch glares at it. "Is it true, then? Have you made another little annoyance?"

The moon doesn't answer, but Pitch sneers all the same. Pitch dismisses his ever watching audience, intent now on finding the rumored frost spirit. Pitch carries a deep, embittered hatred for the yet unknown enemy. When he finds him, Pitch will destroy him and relish his enemy's grief.

As the man made of fear continues his search among the collection of cabins, a flash of white catches his eye. At a small lake just within the forest line, something flies back and forth over the water.

Pitch clenches his fists. "Found you."

He teleports from a homestead's shadow to one close to the lake. His scythe forms in his hands, made of monstrous bad dreams. He sneaks in closer, closer, step by step, until at last he reaches the clearing.

Then Pitch sees the spirit, and he halts in his steps.

A boy, a mere boy, swirls around on the water, turning it into ice with a long shepherd's crook. He is terribly thin and small in stature with snow white hair on his head. The sprite continues his work with a small smile on his pale face, looking delighted. There's a light in his bright, blue eyes that speaks of mischief and joy.

The scythe disappears from the Boogeyman's hands with a scoff. He feels utterly cheated. This child is no warrior of light! This blue eyed innocent couldn't hope to best Pitch. For a time, he watches as the frost child covers everything he touches into a winter wonderland.

Gradually, the nightmare man's bitter rage fades into curiosity. Why was this spirit here? Shouldn't a Guardian be out trying to get children to believe in him? Perhaps he misunderstood the rumors. Well, he supposes the quickest way to find out was to try a more friendly approach.

Pitch Black steps forward. The boy doesn't notice him at first, too engrossed in frosting the trees around the lake. Pitch moves into the spirit's intended line of fire. When the winter wonder finally sees him, Pitch makes eye contact with those cerulean blue orbs.

"Good evening," Pitch says.

With a small gasp, the boy falls out of the air and onto the snow as if he were a snowflake himself. "You can see me?" He asks with a voice full of awe.

"Yes, I can." Pitch smiles, a welcoming beguiling mask. "I am Pitch Black. Who might you be?"

The child stares at him a moment, dumbfounded, before his face breaks out into a huge smile. "I'm Jack. Jack Frost."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jack." How interesting, Pitch thinks as he puts his hands behind his back. Jack Frost didn't seem to be afraid of him at all. The Guardians either didn't think Pitch Black was enough of a threat to warn Jack, or more likely Jack had never encountered the Guardians so they could warn him.

Jack hesitantly drifts a little closer to him. "I've never met someone who could see me before. Are you human?"

Pitch chuckles as he shakes his head. "No, I'm most certainly not." With a grand flare of his hands, Pitch summons the shadows to form a silhouette of a snowflake upon the pristine white ground. Just to show off a little more, he twirls his right hand, making the image shatter into a thousand shattered snowflakes dancing together.

"Wow! That's amazing." Once again, Jack doesn't seem afraid, with his bright smile and laughter. In his excitement, Jack jabs his staff to the left to point at the lake. "I can do stuff like that! Freeze things. Watch this!" Jack taps a tree three times, and with a high velocity ice forms so fast over the bark it isn't long before the oak is completely encased in a frozen embrace. "I can do blizzards too, but they're not meant for just any old time. I have to be careful, because other spirits are in charge of other seasons and-."

Abruptly, Jack flinches and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I haven't really had a conversation in…" Jack tapers off, and the light in his eyes dims.

Without any warning, Pitch gets a taste of an exquisite fear from Jack. Alone. Always alone. I'm so lonely. He's going to leave because I'm such an idiot. Pitch casts a small smirk up at the moon. Oh, this could be too easy.

Pitch gently places a hand on Jack's shoulder. The shock of the touch stuns Jack into complete stillness. Pitch gives Jack a Cheshire smile, "You know, Jack, I think that we should get to know each other better."

Jack trembles slightly beneath Pitch's hand. "Alright, that sounds like fun."

Pitch grins, like a shark before it bites. "I'm sure it will be."

Pitch lets Jack talk his ear off for a good hour. All the while, Pitch slips little touches here and there of support. Jack tells him about his unusual birth, how the Man in the Moon gave him a name and nothing else. Then, he explains how nobody saw him, only passed right through him like he wasn't even there.

Instead of being incredibly bored, Pitch finds himself fascinated. The Man in the Moon made this child of winter only to leave him alone? As Pitch slides an arm around Jack's shoulders as the frost child finishes his story.

Jack's voice goes soft as he says, "I've been wondering around for a hundred years now just bringing winter wherever I go. I've traveled all over the world, but no one sees me. No one." Jack turns to Pitch. "Not until you."

The fear of abandonment rolling of Jack in waves feeds Pitch better than any nightmare he'd ever made. It affects Pitch on a primal level, filling him with latent desires he thought long forgotten. Apparently, they merely need the right trigger To come to life.

Pitch schools his features to convey sympathy. "That's quite the sad story, Jack. I wish I had found you earlier." He brushes the back of his fingers against Jack's pale, cold skin. "I know how it feels to be so alone. I confess I've not had a companion for a few centuries."

Not that Pitch even wanted one, but Jack doesn't need to know that part. As an immortal made of darkness, most spirits shied away from him, and Pitch enjoyed their terror. Pitch only now notices his own sharp yearning for contact when he drinks in Jack's touch starved fright.

"Centuries? Whoa." Jack leans into the touch, his head shifting towards the hand. "I can't imagine living alone for so long."

"I'm not entirely alone." Pitch grimaces. "There are others." Others that the Man in the Moon made, but Pitch decides to withhold that for now.

"There are?" Jack's eyes lit up.

Pitch's rage returns. "Yes, and they cast me out." Seeing an opportunity, Pitch stifles his fury to bring back his sympathetic mask. "But that's not the worst thing they've done. They've seen you, Jack, that's how I know about you." Pitch resists the urge to grin as the light of hope slowly dies in Jack's eyes.

"Why didn't they talk to me?" Jack looks down at the snow covered earth. Is something wrong with me?

Jack says, "I sometimes wonder if I'm bad. Maybe I was made wrong and that's why he doesn't answer me." Jack looks up at Pitch, eyes pleading. "Am I bad, Pitch?"

Breathing in deeply the fine wine that is Jack's doubts, worries, and despair, the urge to dominate rose up. Breathing out, he keeps a firm control on his growing lust, even though it got stronger with each passing second. "No, Jack, I don't believe you are."

Jack finds little solace in Pitch's words. There must be a reason. Why doesn't anybody want me? Am I just not good enough? Did I do something wrong? Why?

Before he can think about it, Pitch pulls Jack gently onto his lap. Jack shakes little at the contact, scared but thrilled by the comfort. Jack sets his staff down so he can doesn't accidently whack Pitch with it.

Pitch wraps his arms around Jack, and the little frost spirit confesses, "Pitch, if you keep doing stuff like this I…"I might shatter. I can't take this. It's too much! Don't stop. I need it. I've needed it for so long.

Pitch groans a little, trying to ignore his aching hardness while carding his fingers through the boy's hair. "Don't be so afraid, Jack."

Why it's this frostling's special flavor of fear that makes Pitch so aroused, the Nightmare King doesn't know. Still, Pitch notices that his shadows meld with the snow at his feet, like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Pitch wonders if he should take that as a good sign. Perhaps their powers complement each other in such a way that Pitch can't help but be attracted.

For whatever the reason, Jack squirming on his lap definitely doesn't help his self-control. Jack tells him, "I just don't know about all this. I'm glad you can see me-"And touch me, please never stop touching me! "-but I don't have any idea what to do."

Pitch tilts the boy's head back. "Then let me teach you, Jack." Pitch surprises himself a little that he wants to undertake that task. Images of Jack learning all the ways to give pleasure and receive pleasure make Pitch groan again. "I can help you, if you let me."

"I..." Jack stares up through his silver bangs, his eyes roaming over Pitch's features, looking for some kind of sign. "I don't even know you."

With a well played shrug, Pitch says, "There isn't terribly much to know. I have many titles, the most popular here perhaps being the Boogeyman. I am often hated for simply doing my job: to bring fear." Pitch lets out a long suffering sigh, "It's quite a thankless job, and most other spirits don't understand. I can't control how I have been made, you know, but that doesn't stop them from trying to malign me at every turn."

Just as he planned, Jack frowns at the thought of Pitch being bullied. "That isn't fair!" The frostling pronounces. "A little fear never hurt anyone. Sometimes fear can be good for people."

"Oh, I agree," Pitch nods. "But regardless, my life has been lonely as we'll because of it." He leans down, until their noses are a breath apart. "I admit, I've been waiting for the day I could find someone who would see me as you do."

Pitch leans in, pressing his lips firmly to Jack's. The frost child lets out a small squeak as he does.

Pitch eases back, "I'm sorry, I know we just met, but I feel something here, Jack. Don't you feel it, as well?"

"It's just so much, so fast." Jack pants, "I've never done, um," Jack bites his bottom lip.

Pitch nods. "I'll go slow." Pitch holds Jack close. "And if you want to stop, just say no."

Like he suspected, Jack's fears told him there would be no such resistance. As if I could say no to you...

Pitch rocks his hips steadily, pumping his cock languidly in and out of the lithe spirit beneath him. Jack Frost whimpers tiny little moans into Pitch's neck as his cold limbs tighten with each thrust around the dark man's shoulders. He is enjoying it, the minx, even though it's his first time on his back with his legs spread. Jack's naked legs are wrapped around Pitch's waist, squeezing Pitch forward.

"Do you like it, Jack?" Pitch asks with bated breath.

"Y-yes, I do!" Jack cries out with no shame. "Please, more!"

Pitch nips at Jack's ear, making Jack yelp a little at the slight pain. Pitch just chuckles darkly as he picks up the pace. Jack clutches at the robes now, letting out delicious groans. Pitch grips the thin hips in his hands, forcing himself deeper and deeper with each intrusion.

"I knew you'd like it." Pitch tells him. "And I love how deliciously tight you are."

"Pitch," Jack whimpers, "I feel so hot. It's too much!"

Jack holds on for the ride, overwhelmed by the whole experience. Jack's throbbing cock slides against Pitch's slightly exposed stomach, and Jack wishes for the hundredth time that Pitch would let him touch it. Instead, he has to let Pitch fuck him into the ground first before he can come.

"Now, now, my boy," Pitch loves the sound of their skin slapping together, "the heat is good. That means I'm taking you right."

The dark man seems to enjoy sliding his cock in and out of Jack quite a bit. Jack likes that he is pleasing his new lover, so he doesn't mind the small pain he gets with each thrust. After all, Pitch is the best thing that's ever happened to him in his long lifetime.

Jack gazes over Pitch's shoulder and up at the moon. For a split second, Jack swears he sees a deep frown in the globe above him. Then, Pitch thrusts in deep, hitting something that makes Jack scream in ecstasy.

"That, Pitch, please, again! Ah!" Pitch grants Jack's wish, hitting that spot over and over again, sending electric zaps all the way up and down Jack's body. "Yes, yes!"

Pitch slams his hips into Jack's now, growling with need near Jack's ear. Jack locks his legs in place tightly on Pitch's lower back, getting the angle just right for more hits to that special spot inside. Ice crystal tears fall from Jack's eyes, from the agony and ecstasy combined together.

Pitch groans as he revels in the tight heat around him. "Your…innocence. Mine! Forever!" Pitch's cock throbs deep inside the winter spirit. "Let me give you something in return."

Pitch lets out a small roar as he comes inside Jack. The frost child shouts out a small sound of startled surprise as his own cock shoots his cum onto Pitch's stomach. Pitch cackles in triumph as Jack trembles from his release. Jack gasps over and over, trying to stay awake, but his eyes flutter close from exhaustion.

Pitch kisses Jack's lips as he pulls out. "Ah, what a lovely little find you are." Pitch uses the snow to clean himself and Jack. Pitch puts his pants back on and stands up. With a small smirk, he turns to the moon.

"Enjoy the show?" He asks, feeling the fury from the orb in the sky. "It's not my fault you left him so wonderfully vulnerable, you know."

Pitch moves aside, showing off the boy's exposed and used body. "If it hadn't been me another would've done it. Did you think about that, I wonder? There are monsters worse than me who would've wrecked your little sprite. Be thankful I decided to be kind."

With a wave of his hand, he covers Jack in darkness, sending his prize to his lair. "He's mine now."

Turning back to the moon, Pitch snarls out, "You created him and abandoned him all in one day. Between the two of us, I'd say at least my sin can be redeemed. Yours will neither be forgotten nor forgiven. Not by him and not by me."

Pitch picks up Jack's staff off the ground. "Do what you do best and leave him alone, for I will go to war to keep him.

"This I vow."