This is a sequel to Kidnap Attempt and will probably make more sense if you read that first. Though it could also be some stand-alone smut and that's cool, too.

I promised people on AO3 some mob boss smut after I posted Kidnap Attempt there, so here it is. I've been sitting on this and working on it on and off for far too long, so I finally pushed myself to finish it.

Also on my profile is a poll about BlackIce fics I'm planning on doing and it would be a great help to me if you voted. I have quite a few fics planned, so knowing what my readers want will go a long way toward prioritizing them. Thanks!

Getting called to Pitch's office was never a good thing. Jack had heard stories from other employees, stories about people who went in and never came out. And those were the lucky ones. There had been people who went in and did come out, but they were never the same again.

Jack supposed the sole reason he had exited Pitch office sane and in one piece the first and only time he had been in there was because Pitch needed him to watch Seraphina, a task Jack was still needed for. So, when he received a letter one morning instructing him to leave Seraphina in the care of one of the other employees and report to Pitch's office at an unspecified time in the afternoon, he repeated that line over and over in his head in an attempt to reassure himself there was nothing to fear in going to Pitch's office.

Despite his valiant efforts, there was no kidding himself. He was beyond terrified, not even on the visible spectrum of terror, as he walked down the hallway to the door of the dreaded office.

I wonder what it was that finally convinced him to off me? he thought. I hope it wasn't that comment about the gray hair because it reeeeeally wasn't worth it. I knew it was strange that he didn't say anything. Now I know why. He was plotting how to kill me!

He briefly considered just turning around and running while he still could, but there were too many well-trained guards to even think about getting very far. Besides, that would only lead to a painful death by bullets in his back and he really didn't want to get shot again; one relatively non-lethal time was enough.

Maybe Pitch will be merciful and give me a quick death, like a shot to the head at point blank range. Yeah, that would be a much nicer way to go. I wonder if he would actually be the one to shoot the gun or if he would just tell one of his lackeys to do it. If anyone was going to kill me, I would prefer it to be him – well I would prefer not to die at all, but if I was forced to choose who it was.

Caught up in his thoughts, Jack almost passed the door to Pitch's office. Backtracking a couple steps, Jack stood outside it, examining the dark wood grain and shiny brass doorknob, wondering how long he could stand outside the office, stalling for time. The hallway was strangely deserted, not even a guard keeping watch, so there was no one around to tell him to get a move on. Pitch would leave at some point, but that wouldn't be until later in the evening, giving Jack plenty of time to contemplate and appreciate his life; however, that would only delay the inevitable and Jack had never been patient. Even when it came to his own death apparently.

The door opened before Jack got the chance to even raise his hand.

"You know, most people knock when they want to come in," Pitch said smugly, leaning against the door frame.

"What if I don't want to come in?" Jack countered automatically. Dammit, I'm trying not to piss him off.

Pitch just rolled his eyes, a slightly amused smile on his lips. "It doesn't matter what you want. I want you to come in." The smiled slipped. "So step into my office." That was said with a hard tone that brooked no argument, such a sudden change from his initial exasperation that Jack obeyed immediately.

Pitch moved out of the way so he could pass by, which put him out of Jack's line of sight, which was incredibly not okay. There was no way Jack could turn around to keep an eye on him without it being obvious he was paranoid, so he kept facing forward as he walked to the large desk in the center of the room. The absence of a chair left him just standing there, not quite knowing what to do and trying to quell his nerves through the mounting anxiety.

He jumped as the door closed with a sharp click. Pitch's soft chuckle made it clear he had noticed.

"There's no need to be so skittish," Pitch said as he swept around the desk and sat smoothly in his chair.

"I am not skittish!" Jack denied, a little bit too fast. "I'm just wary."

Pitch outright laughed. "'Wary?' Of what?"

Jack sputtered for a moment. Pitch made it sound as if he had absolutely no reason to be afraid of the mob boss who had murdered countless people and basically had control of every aspect of his life, from eating breakfast to paying for school even to continuing living.

Pulling himself together, Jack responded, "Well, I-I mean, every other time you wanted to meet with me you just –"

"This is something I would prefer to do in private," Pitch interrupted him casually, gathering some papers on his desk and moving them to the side.

Jack went very still, ceasing his nervous shifting from one foot to the other. Pitch must have noticed, since he straightened in his chair and looked seriously at Jack.

"Oh, this wouldn't have anything to do with my office, would it? Everyone always tells those terrible stories, but they're just to scare the newer employees. Most of them are exaggerated."

"'Most of them?' For some reason that's just not reassuring me." Jack gave a shaky laugh that wasn't fooling anyone.

"Trust me when I say they were only the people who greatly deserved it. For example, one of my daughter's previous caretakers –"

"That's not reassuring me either!" Jack took a step back from the desk, his eyes widening to the point where it felt like they were going to pop out of his head. Why does he think talking about the undoubtedly horrific fate of someone who used to have my job will help?!

Pitch sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps that's not the best one to tell." He paused, presumably thinking of a different story to tell, one that hopefully wouldn't frighten Jack. It was taking far too long, in Jack's opinion. Pitch's face finally lit up and he began talking. "Ah! How about this one, about the cook who tried to poison my food. She was very lucky that I got caught up in my work and skipped dinner that night. Even luckier that she cooked something my daughter didn't like and refused to eat. But she wasn't so lucky as to be given the option of refusing to eat her food. Certainly attempting to kill me –"

"That was supposed to be reassuring?" Jack deadpanned, but he was internally filled with horror at hearing the delight in Pitch's voice as he talked about this subject. He never really got to see Pitch in action and he was totally okay with that. As Seraphina's caretaker, it was his job to keep her – and by association himself – out of the action as much as possible. Being right in the middle of it once was more than enough; explicitly hearing about it wasn't much better.

"It was supposed to demonstrate that it's only people who deserve it." Pitch sighed again, clearly frustrated with himself. That alone was enough to give Jack pause; it was very rare that Pitch wasn't confident in his actions and even rarer that he allowed others to see it. "I'm not used to trying to convince people I'm not going to kill them. Usually I am trying to kill them or their fear that I'm going to can be used to my advantage."

"Um, so you're not going to kill me?" Jack dared to suggest, dared to hope. If he was wrong, the worst Pitch could do was laugh at him before he pulled his gun out.

"Of course not!" Pitch said. Jack let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "You've been more than useful, looking after my daughter."

It would have been nice to have something more than "useful" keeping him alive, but Jack was willing to take what he got.

"Besides, you still have to replace the blood you borrowed."

That wasn't exactly the "something more" he was hoping for. I thought he had been joking about that. Guess not.

"'Borrowed?' I had a bullet hole in my side and was pretty much bleeding to death!"

"The context of that situation was – and is – irrelevant. I'm not going take blood from a dead body," Pitch said as he smirked. "Though I am genuinely curious, Jack, what would make you think I was going to kill you?"

Jack had a long list for this. "Well, there's the fact you've threatened to do so plenty of times!" he started, "and you've followed through on death threats that you've made against other people. Not to mention you didn't seem nearly ticked off enough about me pointing out your gray hair the other day."

"Hmmm." Pitch sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He stroked his chin in contemplation before he said, "If it had been anyone other than you, I most likely would have."

That was interesting. Jack knew he got away with a lot of sarcasm and snarking, but the reasons for that were never explained. Surely it must be something more than simply being useful. "Soooooo, why not me?"

"Oh, a number or reasons. As I mentioned before, you usefulness in relation to my daughter for one. Her attachment to you for another."

"Care to tell me any others?" Jack prompted with a smirk when Pitch didn't seem inclined to continue. Now, safe from death at least, he was much more confident.

"Tell you? I'm a man of action, Jack. I would prefer to show you instead."

Jack wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that. He knew he didn't like it when Pitch got up from his desk and walked around to the other side, his side. The smirk fell from his face and he resisted the urge to back away as Pitch approached him.

I should let Pitch know I'll understand just as well if he tells me. Yeah, that's a good idea. Jack was about to say such a thing out loud when Pitch grabbed a fistful of his hoodie and yanked him forward, leaving his mouth very suddenly occupied.

His eyes widened and he stared, unseeing, at the wall behind Pitch's desk. His heart was beating painfully fast and he couldn't breathe.

Pitch was kissing him.

The hand bunching up the front of Jack's hoodie slid around back to grip the hood and pulled down, forcing Jack to bend backwards to prevent being choked by his own collar. The other arm wound tightly around his waist, supporting him, but also preventing him from escaping.

Not that I want to escape? Do I? Jack certainly couldn't deny he found Pitch attractive, but he had always assumed Pitch would be too aloof or otherwise occupied to consider a relationship or even just casual fucking. Apparently that was not the case.

On some level, Jack definitely wanted this; on another, he questioned the wisdom of getting involved with his boss. And that was just someone who was his boss, never mind the Nightmare King on top of that.

Pitch's tongue teased his lips open and slipped into his mouth, paralyzing him even more than he already had been. He made a soft sound, unsure what was meant by it, and Pitch hummed in approval. Jack felt it in his teeth.

Pitch's tongue pressed to the top of his mouth and slid down to drag against his own tongue. Pitch didn't try to coax him into reciprocating and Jack was glad for that; he still wasn't sure how to respond. At this point he was still screaming internally, just barely aware enough to register that Pitch was a very good kisser and vaguely wonder when he found time to pick up such a skill. It was probably some kind of seduction technique used to render enemies helpless; it was certainly effective on him if it was.

When he was suddenly turned and backed up against the edge of Pitch's desk, he finally regained his senses enough to gasp and pull away. Pitch was still holding onto him, so he only managed to turn his head to the side, but it broke the kiss and that was what he was aiming to do.

"Wh-ha . . ." Jack was panting and short of breath, heart pounding and thoughts scattered, not good combination for forming a coherent sentence. Denied his mouth, Pitch's lips moved to his neck, which didn't help much either. "Wha-aahhht are y-you doing?" Jack managed, his voice hitching when Pitch found a sensitive spot.

"Kissing you. Honestly, Jack, if you didn't know that then maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," Pitch murmured, his voice surprisingly husky. Jack shivered at Pitch's hot breath ghosting across his skin as kiss-swollen lips formed the words against his neck.

"Well, yeah, but wHY!" His voice rose several octaves as Pitch bit down suddenly. Jack's mouth stayed open in a silent gasp and he tried hard, so hard, to ignore the heat pooling in his groin.

Pitch's grip around Jack's waist shifted, loosened, and he let go of the hood. He braced his hands against the desk on either side of Jack's hips, effectively trapping him. Jack, still bent backwards, was off balance without the arm supporting him, so he gripped the front of Pitch's shirt. Pitch looked down at him with a strange glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Why? Because I can, Jack. Because I'm bored. Because it's a good way to shut you up. Because I enjoy watching you squirm. Because I want to."

Pitch wants me? Pitch wants me?! Well, that explains all those weird glances and lingering touches since, like, the kidnapping incident, not that I did much to discourage that. He didn't know what to say, but with the way Pitch practically growled that last line, he knew there was definitely no denying this was turning him on. His brain was slow to muster his vocabulary and he could only let out a small whine.

Pitch's smirk was positively deadly as he leaned forward to whisper in Jack's ear, "Now that we've got that out of the way . . . shall we continue?" As he spoke, one hand found Jack's hip and slipped under the hem of his hoodie, splaying over his ribs, then moving up and over to the center of his chest, before applying a steady pressure, forcing Jack to bend backwards.

Jack tensed his stomach muscles to hold himself up. It was difficult, though not as difficult as the war going on within his mind. One side of his brain said that this was a bad idea, that getting involved with the Nightmare King was a very bad idea.

This is the man who threatened to kill you before, it said, and he's made good on many death threats in the past. Who's to say he won't kill you once you let your guard down.

And it was right, very right.

But there was another side, one that said it actually sounded pretty good. This side was a lethal mixture of desire and fear and excitement and it was quick to consume his entire being as soon as he dipped his toes in.

What is fun without a little danger? this one said. You've always been into this kind of stuff, but never trusted anyone enough to ask. Now, you don't even have to ask! Pitch is just giving it to you! You would be crazy to turn this down. Not to mention dead for daring to reject him. Just go with it – you may never get an opportunity like this again.

Oh, the first side may have been right, but this side felt right.

Always one to act on his feelings instead of following logic, Jack pushed up onto his toes to perch on the edge of the desk. The action was still a bit tentative, unsure, but Pitch seemed to take it as an enthusiastic yes and he pushed down on Jack's chest with a bit more force. At the same time, Jack gave into the hand's pressure, and his head ended up thudded against the wood as he fell back, but it didn't matter because now Pitch was pushing his legs apart and moving to stand between them as he leaned down for a kiss.

This time, Jack reciprocated, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against Pitch's, though his actions were still hesitant. He did feel slightly more confident, but not enough to take the initiative to deepen the kiss.

Pitch certainly isn't lacking in confidence, Jack thought as Pitch's tongue slicked over his bottom lip. Jack willingly parted his lips and let him take control.

At the first touch of Pitch's tongue against his own, Jack clenched his hands, twisting the material of Pitch's shirt. The hand on his chest rubbed soothingly before skimming down his side, fingers brushing over his nipple on the way down, causing him to squirm. The hand settled briefly on his waist, tracing the outline of his ribs, before dipping down even further and sliding under the waistband of his pants. Jack inhaled sharply through his nose, surprised at Pitch's boldness, though he supposed he really shouldn't be.

He exhaled with a moan as Pitch wrapped his fingers around his length. Pitch made a sound of approval and his other hand reached up to thread through his hair. The soft touch turned to a rough grip and Pitch pulled back sharply, jerking Jack out of the kiss. Jack hissed, ready to voice a complaint at the suddenness of it, but Pitch's hand on his cock started moving, stroking him in a steady rhythm, and he found himself unable to think of any words to say.

Pitch pulled Jack's head back farther, completely baring his neck. He pressed wet kisses to the underside of his jaw, following the line of his throat down to his collarbone. Pitch bit down right above the ridge of bone at the same he smeared his thumb over the head of Jack's cock.

Jack cried out, arching his body up into Pitch's. Okay, fuck, I definitely want this.

He untangled his hands from Pitch's shirt to seek out the top button, but his fingers found their way blocked by Pitch's tie. They fumbled with the knot and Pitch released his hair to still his fingers.

"Don't undo the knot," Pitch warned, carefully loosening it himself and slipping it over his head.

"What, won't be able to retie it all by yourself?" Jack would never admit that he whined when Pitch's hand tightened to the point of pain around his cock. Or that it quite possibly made him even harder.

"I would watch yourself if I were you. I believe I have a bit of an advantage over you at the moment."

"What if I want to provoke you?" As always, Jack knew running his mouth like that was going to get him in trouble, but maybe, just maybe, he wanted to get in trouble.

Jack swore Pitch stopped breathing. His face was slack with shock for a moment, but quickly restructured itself into a look of hunger and anticipation. Jack had never seen that particular smile on Pitch's face before, but it could only mean nothing good. Or everything good.

Pitch leaned down until Jack could feel the dangerous curl of lips against his ear. "Then you may very well get what you want."

Shivers that prickled like fire skittered across Jack's skin. Pitch resumed stroking him, the punishing grip of his hand barely relenting, creating just the right mixture of pain and pleasure. Jack moaned at the intense friction, then gasped in protest when the hand withdrew. Pitch silenced him with a kiss, drawing him in, and Jack scarcely registered Pitch taking hold of his hands and moving them together. Pitch held his wrists with one hand as he looped the tie around them and tightened it.

Jack pulled back from the kiss to stare at his bound wrists, suspended over his face. The sight made his mouth go dry and his heart skip a beat, made fear thrum through his body with a thrill of desire and an icy creeping though his veins.

Pitch looked down at him, just as hungry as before and then some. He tugged on the tie, bringing Jack's arms above his head, only stopping when Jack's wrists were against the edge of the desk. Pitch used both hands to do something that caused the tie to tighten and pull on Jack's wrists even more. In his haze, Jack couldn't quite tell what had been done.

Once Pitch moved back, Jack shifted his wrists experimentally, but found his movement restricted. Twisting his hands, he felt around with his fingers. He followed the silky material of the tie down to where it bunched into a knot tied over a smooth, short bar of metal.

He tied me to the handle of a drawer. Fuck. Before Jack could determine if that curse was used in a good or bad manner, Pitch was kissing him again, stroking his hands down his stretched-out arms, and he decided it was definitely good.

"You look beautiful like this," Pitch murmured against his lips. Jack simply panted in response, unable to think, especially after that sentence.

Pitch stepped away and fear spiked through him.

"W-wait!" Jack stammered, lifting his head up, looking around wildly for Pitch. Where is he going? Where could he possibly be going? He can't leave me like this!

Pitch quickly reentered Jack's vision and soothed him with another kiss. "I'm just getting something from my desk. Something you'll want, trust me."

Jack heard one of the drawers open and close before Pitch came back. He whimpered in want at the lube and condoms in Pitch's hand, which were set down within reaching distance.

Pitch focused his attention back on Jack, going back to kissing him. Jack hooked his legs around Pitch's waist, drawing him closer, grinding against him, moaning at how hard Pitch was already. He knew he was worse, but he hadn't even touched Pitch yet.

Lifting his hips, Jack pushed harder, encouraging more stimulation, more contact, just more and Pitch finally, finally, unfastened the button on Jack's jeans. As the pants slipped off his hips, Jack toed his shoes off, somehow managing to remove his socks as well.

Pitch moved back to strip off Jack's pants and didn't return right away, apparently to admire the view, as his gaze was decidedly not fixed on Jack's face. It lingered on his now exposed crotch for several moments, before traveling down his bare legs and skimming back up to his still clothed chest. Despite Jack not being fully naked, something about the sight obviously pleased Pitch, if that lazy smile meant anything. Jack liked it.

As Pitch stepped between Jack's legs, he slipped his hands under Jack's hoodie, heating the flesh there and raising goosebumps everywhere else. He pushed the hoodie up until it was just above the base of Jack's ribs. Fingers traced over the scar on his right side, making Jack shiver, and Pitch rested his forehead against Jack's.

"Are you sure you want this?" Pitch asked in a hushed voice. He was checking to ensure everything was okay, everything was wanted, and any doubts Jack had were completely dispelled with that comment.

"Yes, yes, please, yes," he pleaded, straining against his binding with the force of his desperation.

"Exactly what I hoped to hear," Pitch said, voice gentle, but thick with lust. One of his hands reached for the lube, leaving Jack' skin feeling cold. Jack's insides twisted in excitement and he braced his heels on the edge of the desk as Pitch lubed up his fingers. When Pitch touched his knees to direct his legs farther apart, Jack shuddered in anticipation. The first finger pushed into him and he tilted his head back, making a sound of appreciation deep in his throat.

"Look at me," Pitch demanded softly. Jack wasn't aware that he had closed his eyes. Quivering, he opened them to see Pitch staring down at him regally, a satisfied smirk curving his lips. "Yes, just like that. Hold my gaze."

Jack was glad that Pitch was telling him what to do because he honestly had no idea. This was far from his first time having sex, but it had been a while and never had he felt this overwhelmed, so he did the only thing he was able: what Pitch told him to do.

With their eyes locked, Pitch began to move his finger at a slow, maddening pace. It wasn't enough, not nearly so. Jack was desperate enough to plead Pitch to just continue without preparation, but that was a terrible idea, so he restrained himself and surrendered to Pitch's ministrations.

When Pitch added a second finger, it took all of Jack's self-control to not throw his head back and break the eye contact. He wasn't sure if he should focus on the intensity in Pitch's eyes or sensations he was creating with his fingers. Jack didn't want to miss a single instant of either, but the full experience of both was lost in his divided attention. As he hovered in limbo, a third finger pressed in and that was too much to ignore. His eyes fluttered shut and his entire world at that moment became Pitch's fingers inside him, moving, stretching, drawing out sensations that had become forgotten. He pushed his hips up, wanting more –

Pitch withdrew his fingers.

Jack's moan of disappointment and longing didn't cover up Pitch's chuckle. "None of that, Jack. I told you to look at me."

Fucking asshole. As much as I like being ordered around I want to enjoy myself. Despite his thoughts, Jack didn't want to jeopardize his chances, so he opened his eyes and forced a forlorn expression onto his face as he stared up at Pitch, begging him to continue.

"You already disobeyed me and you think that's going to be enough now? You look debauched enough that I bet you are willing to do anything to prove that you want me inside you, that you even deserve me inside you."

Considering the situation, Jack had been rather well put together, but Pitch's words took him completely apart. He had faked his desperation when he looked at Pitch moments ago, but there was no passing off lust blow pupils and a heaving chest that suddenly felt constricted by the fabric that still covered it as an act.

"I am, I do, please, let me, more . . ." Jack let himself trail off before more incoherent nonsense could spill from his lips.

"Then you must do exactly as I tell you." Pitch's thumb gently stroked his cheek and Jack leaned into the touch. "And, right now," Pitch continued in a whisper, his fingers trailing down to grip Jack's chin, "I'm telling you to look at me."

"Of course, anything, anything," Jack promised, looking right at Pitch. He never wanted something, someone, more than he did in this moment. Perhaps he should be frightened by that, but he was too drunk on lust to bring himself to address it.

"Very good." Pitch finally slid his fingers back into Jack, immediately starting with two and adding a third after only a few pumps. Jack kept his eyes trained on Pitch's the entire time and barely felt a sting as the fingers spread and stretched, he was so relaxed and open and willing.

When Pitch withdrew his fingers, Jack's groan was one of anticipation as opposed to one of disappointment. Pitch looked away with a satisfied smirk and Jack took that as release from his order. He dropped his head back, lost in the pleasure with eyelids fluttering as he stared up at the ceiling, but his eyes soon flew open at the sound of Pitch pulling his zipper down.

Jack looked up to see Pitch reaching for one of the condoms. How Pitch could remember such a thing with the state they were both in he had no idea, but he was grateful one of them was thinking somewhat rationally. Pitch ripped the package open and rolled the condom on, Jack unable to tear his gaze away.

He's definitely bigger than pretty much all of the guys I've slept with, he thought, whining impatiently. This is gonna be good.

"I would ask if you like what you see, but I already know the answer." Pitch's smugness made Jack want to kick him in the face. As that wouldn't work out so well with his current goal of getting laid, Jack settled for growling and hooking his heels around Pitch's hips to press him closer, making the slickness of the pre-lubed condom rub against his hole. Jack hummed deeply in satisfaction.

Pitch slipped an arm under Jack's shoulder and cupped the back of his head, supporting it as he kissed him with what felt like all the force of his hunger. Jack eagerly reciprocated, barely faltering when Pitch lined up to him. The kiss continued as Pitch slowly pushed in, though it lessened in intensity to match Pitch's leisure.

Jack could feel every inch, every stretch, every hitch of breath and it was absolutely perfect. When Pitch stopped before he was all the way in, Jack pressed with his heels again.

"More," he whispered against Pitch's lips, the word sounding more like a moan of desperation than the demand it was intended to be.

"Can you handle more, Jack?" Pitch's voice was soft, but teasing, challenging. Jack was always up for a challenge, especially one he knew he could win. He let the pressure of his heels and an aggressive kiss speak for him and Pitch stopped resisting, allowing Jack to control the pace. Setting one slightly faster than before, it didn't take long for Pitch's hips to settle against him, leaving them both gasping for breath.

"Is that . . . all?" Jack managed between pants. Pitch's fingers knotted in his hair, yanking his head back again.

"Brat," Pitch said, though Jack could hear the amusement in his voice. He let out a breathy laugh that was quickly choked off as Pitch's teeth sunk into his neck. Reacting automatically, Jack went to grab his head, but his arms only jerked uselessly against the tie binding him. He had nearly forgotten it was there.

His attention was drawn away from that once again when Pitch pulled out and thrust back in. Jack's moan sent his vocal cords vibrating and he could feel where Pitch was biting into his skin. Pitch stayed latched on as he established a rhythm, leaving Jack to become lost in the sensations all over again, in the tie tightening around his wrists, in the teeth against his neck, in the weight of Pitch inside him.

A hand wrapped around his cock and Jack realized just how long he had been neglected on that plane, how he hadn't even noticed because everything else had been so good. His hips jerked in response, prompting Pitch to begin moving his hand. Jack felt close, so close, but he couldn't allow himself to come this soon.

When Pitch finally loosened his grip and pulled his teeth out of Jack's neck to pant heavily into his ear, Jack couldn't help but jibe, "Out of breath already, old man?"

The following hard, rough thrusts and strokes left Jack gasping and squirming.

"Going to come already? Are you that inexperienced, Jack?"

"Me? You haven't even – AH!" Jack was abruptly cut off as Pitch hit his prostate, exactly what Jack had planned on taunt him about not doing yet.

"I actually think it's saying quite a lot – about my own skill – that I managed to get you so worked up – without finding your prostate," Pitch said between breaths, stroking faster and thrusting at that same angle. Jack couldn't respond, too focused on not coming. Pitch was still quite collected and Jack was not going to let him win this silently established contest of endurance.

Having his hands bound put him at a distinct disadvantage. When he bottomed, Jack would usually grip onto his partner's shoulders or a pillow, depending on the position, to anchor himself. Unable to do either, Jack tried keeping a steady pull against the tie, but that only caused it to bite into his skin and hurt too much to serve as a proper distraction. Not to mention the way the edge of the desk dug into his wrists. He felt as if he was floating, leaving him with only the pleasure to latch onto. Which would have been great in any other situation.

Jack finally slipped his legs all the way around Pitch's waist and squeezed, forcing Pitch to shift his angle so he was no longer pounding Jack's prostate with every thrust. The relief was enough for Jack to pull himself together. He became aware of Pitch's neck near his face, within easy reaching distance. Deciding it wasn't fair that only he had been marked, Jack leaned forward to attach his mouth to the stretch of skin in front of him. He started off just kissing, tasting, and Pitch didn't protest, so Jack took that as permission to continue, but as soon as he began to bear down with his teeth, Pitch growled and pulled away, his hand tangling in Jack's hair to keep him at bay.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Pitch hissed, accompanied by a thrust directly to Jack's prostate.

Jack let out a strangled moan. There was no way he was going to last much longer at this rate. He didn't care about not coming first anymore. Letting go would feel so much better. He was just about to allow himself to fall over that edge into ultimate pleasure when Pitch's hand stopped moving to tightly grip the base of his cock, preventing him from coming.

Jack whined. He had been so close, it was right there and he wanted it so badly.

"You're not gonna win doing that," he gasped, trying to goad Pitch into letting him go.

"I changed my mind," Pitch said, constricting his grip. "You're not allowed to come before I do."

Jack would have come from just those words if it wasn't for Pitch stopping him. Jack really did like having his hands bound, but he wished he had more mobility at the moment. At least then he could attempt to remove Pitch's hand, but he could only lie there, whining brokenly, gritting his teeth, completely overwhelmed as Pitch continued to slam into him.

Pitch pressed their cheeks together, his hand still cupping the back of Jack's head, and his thrusts began to lose their rhythm. Jack was too busy feeling relieved at the prospect of being released from his torture to dwell too long on how affectionate Pitch was being. It wasn't until Pitch kissed him deeply, moaning into Jack's mouth as he came, that the intimacy of the situation struck him. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but it was wiped from his mind as Pitch loosened his hand and gave him a single stroke, bringing him to orgasm as well and catching most of his come in his hand.

Pitch continued to kiss him lazily as they came down from their orgasms. Jack's legs slipped from around Pitch's waist to dangle over the edge of the desk. He felt boneless and wholly relaxed.

That could only last so long. His arms began to protest being stretched above his head and the ache in his ass made itself known. Jack shifted in discomfort, a small noise accompanying his movement, and Pitch finally pulled away. He stared down at Jack with a half-lidded, deeply satisfied gaze as he licked Jack's come off his fingers. Once he was finished, Pitch leaned forward and carefully loosened the tie from the handle and from Jack's wrists. Jack brought his hands to his chest, weakly rubbing his wrists until Pitch caught them in his own hands, taking over the soothing action.

"Are you feeling okay?" Pitch asked, kissing him softly.

Despite being a bit confused about Pitch's caring behavior, Jack was doing wonderfully. Not wanting to mention his confusion in fear of ruining the moment, Jack nodded.

"Hmm, actually, just one thing," he said.

Pitch tensed. "What is it?" he asked, obviously worried that he did something wrong.

"I need you out of me." Jack smirked at the comical way Pitch's eyes widened and then narrowed. Pitch didn't comment as he did as asked, drawing a small noise from Jack, and even helped pull him into a sitting position. Jack winced as he slid off the desk. He picked his pants and boxers up from the floor and Pitch sorted himself out, disposing the condom and refastening his own pants.

Slipping his pants back on, Jack felt pretty gross, but he would shower and clean himself out once he got to his room. He wanted to head back right now, but he couldn't leave without saying anything to Pitch. What am I supposed to say, though? "Thanks for the fuck, how's this gonna affect my next paycheck?" And how am I supposed to act around him now? Is this just a one-time thing or . . . what?

Jack was just about to say something to break the silence before it became awkward, but Pitch was suddenly there, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, tilting his head up to kiss him.

"I told you there was no need to be afraid of my office," Pitch said.

Jack offered a crooked smile. "Do you do this with all your employees then?"

"Only the ones I know can handle me."

"Well that's good, because I only sleep with my bosses when they can put up with me."

Pitch pulled him back into a rough kiss, which Jack quickly pulled away from as he realized something.

"Wait, the reason you called me to your office was to fuck me?!"

"I wasn't thinking in quite so crude terms, but yes," Pitch said, nodding.

"You planned this!"

"That I did."

Jack blinked. That was . . . not entirely surprising. The premeditation definitely suggested it wasn't just a one-time thing. "Okay then."

Pitch smirked knowingly. "You have no objections then."

"I'll let you know if any come up," Jack breathed, leaning up to kiss Pitch again.

"You better," Pitch said before reciprocating.

Jack would have continued kissing Pitch until it turned into round two if a slight shifting of his stance didn't remind him of the slickness of the lube still in his ass and how much he needed a shower.

Pulling away, Jack said, "At the moment I object to being this disgusting, so I would very much like to go shower."

"I suppose I can allow that," Pitch said, but he didn't release Jack until he sucked another hickey onto his neck, just below his jawline. Jack held back a whimper; he very much liked Pitch marking him, even though no one but the other employees would really notice. Assholes probably knew this was gonna happen anyway.

Pitch sent him on his way with a nip to the lips and a grope to the ass. The door closed behind him and Jack sighed happily. Apparently Pitch was open for a fuck buddy and Jack was all too happy to fill that position. Despite not knowing how long that title was going to stick, he was content for now.

With a rather dopey smile on his face, Jack set off down the still deserted hallway. He supposed he was lucky there was no one to see the rather obvious limp in his step.

I have a couple more things planned for this AU, a few more smutty things, some feels, lots of snark, so keep an eye out. I'm excited.