It might have been the excess clothing during the winter weathers that gave him this particular liking to what he saw. No one, unless crazy, which could happen, wore such clothing. Always heavy set jackets, one or two, thick pants, about three sets of socks, hats of all kinds, and mask over their faces. But not you. You had always worn a small jacket, had no gloves, no boots, and that is about as much winter clothes you had. Never one for cold weather, you stayed inside as much you could and didn’t bother buying anymore warm clothing than needed, which was hardly any.
Here, under the night of the summer moon, with the warm air making your skin flush red, skin shining from perspiration, there was something magical about it. With the right amount hitting every exposed piece of flesh, Jack could only stop and stare wildly and what he saw. Sure after many years passing thing had changed, but that didn’t mean he would not be surprised at seeing such . . . a display of the body. In his thoughts, you should be covered completely from head to toe with a thick fur coat, but that would only cause you to faint. Then again, this image that was begging to burn a permanent mark in his brain was going to cause him to pass out at any moment.
Having moved closer to your window, peeking in as you mumbled to yourself about Mim-knows-what, Jack took a sharp intake of breath at what he saw. You were looking for something underneath your bed, bed on all fours and sticking you upper body underneath the bed while your back side stuck up in the air. His presences couldn’t be seen by you, not because your head was under the bed, but because your mind was fully occupied by whatever project you were working on at the moment. Jack was the farthest thing in your mind and thus, at the moment, could not be seen.
Jack sat on the window sill, not watching you discretely as one would think a young man would do when doing something un-gentleman like. Nevertheless, a streak of red did cross his face and once or twice he would look away feeling guilty, but that lasted but a second before he started his “observation” again. Maybe it was a chill in the air that gave him away, when you pulled out of the bed and stood as e jumped from the sill to be next to you. Your eyes move from one corner of the room to the other, searching for something, something different than what you had been looking for initially.
Up close, the feeling surging through his body became worse. Your neck and part of you was completely exposed and shone with the rays of the moon, flushed with blood as you had not stopped moving for the longest time and the het was causing you to get an unnecessary work out. But you didn’t care how hot it was or how tired you were getting because of the heat, and Jack didn’t care either, as long as you stayed in those clothes.
He thought he was content just looking at you work, sitting on your bed crossed legged as you walked around the room collecting things and pulling out books and sketches. Several times you lifted up your shirt to wipe the sweat from your brow, and those were the best seconds of his Guardian life—like, ever! He saw the smooth plain of your stomach, your shorts ridding down low for a split second before you shirt was back in place, but then the strap was drifting down your shoulder, and you left it there not caring that he was watching how low the shirt was beginning to fall. His mind had completely thrown out the fact that you could still not see him due to the lack of attention on your part.
Jack jumped from the bed and drifted in the air towards you, landing softly an inch away from you as you preacher for something on the top shelf of the bookshelf. He stood behind you as close as possible without touching, mimicking you action as if he were going to help, but his hand only slipped throw the self. He didn’t notice this, because he was too occupied watching the curve of your neck as you looked up. His closeness, something you had not noticed as of yet, had cussed a chill in the air, and had made Goosebumps spread out through your body. One particular region claiming his attention instantly, but to his luck that was what gave his resents away.
“Are you staring at my chest?” you asked, lifting a brow at him. “How long have you been ogling me, Jack Frost?”
“Uh . . . not long enough?” he asked sheepishly, looking up at your narrowed eyes. “In my defense, it was your fault for not noticing me fast enough, joy-kill.”
You grumbled something underneath your breath, turning away from him before he could ask what it was you had said. He followed close behind as you made your way to your desk where, for the first time he had been there, he noticed a set of beakers and test tubes on there with small fire underneath them. The liquid in each of the fire was slowly changing to a different color, but not fast enough as the book you had pulled out had scribbled on it to make the process go faster. Unfortunately, what was also written in them was the fact that picking up the pace for the heating was a failure.
“Even during summer, you don’t take a break.” Jack leaned over you from behind, giving the impression he was looking into the book you were looking at, but in truth . . . he just loved looking at your skin. “You wrote down that turning up the flames will just make it A, explode, B, turn rancid—it’s water!—and C . . . I don’t even know what that says.”
Feeling the coolness of his presences behind you, you leaned back into his chest, and he rested his chin on your shoulder seconds after. The motion you had done, leaning on him, had cause a momentary shock, but he was not one to shy away and had taken it a step further after you didn’t push off his chin from your shoulder; he wrapped both his arms around your waist and feigned interest in the liquid you were heating. You didn’t seem to mind his closeness, and, as he saw it, it seemed you actually enjoyed his cold feel now. This made him chuckle, snuggling into your neck and producing a small shriek from your mouth.
“J-Jack,” you hissed, trying to glare at him, but the position you were in, with his arms wrapped tightly around you, it was impossible to turn around. “Stop blowing on my neck!”
He had felt it. Jack had felt that second your body had tensed up, the goosebumps more prominent on your hot skin, and the shiver that came when he accidentally breathed on your neck. This time, when he blew softly on the back of it after pushing your hair aside, he had to tighten his grip so you wouldn’t jump from his arms. He could feel you glaring at the wall, as you couldn’t turn to him, and he let out another chuckle as he leaned down and gave your next a soft, and cold, kiss.
The reflection he saw in one of the beakers, was of you tightly closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, your fingers digging into his arm, and it was only his hoodie that had kept your nails from his skin. Your reaction, although showed sign of wanting to hurt him, was entertaining enough for him to want to continue. After all, you had always been the one studying him, putting him in situation you could collect data on, and he still remembered that one time you had teased him with having ‘fun’ inside.
You seemed to be regaining your train of thought, but that was not convenient for Jack at the moment, and this time he leaned in to take the top of your ear in between his teeth. You let out a short scream, Jack having covered your mouth as soon as you opened it because he didn’t know if you were truly alone in the house. He didn’t bother to check when he was looking at you through the window, because he had only been looking at you. With his hand on your mouth, the other having moved closer to pin your arms to your side, your squirming was useless.
“Jack.” Your voice was sharp and deadly, but there was something else in it. Something he couldn’t quite put, but it was that something that kept his arms tightly around you. “What’re you doing?—let me go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Quit being such a child!” you hand turned around in his arms, your hand pressed to his chest as you tried to pry him off. “Let go of m—“
Jack had leaned down and covered your lips with his before you could finish that sentence. You had said it once, saying it twice might have power over him and force him to stop. He didn’t want to stop, and your wide eyes, though you tried to hide the shock in them and failed, urged him on to kiss you again. Longer. Just a bit longer, is what echoed in his mind as he pulled you against him and kissed you more thoroughly that when he pulled back you were out of breath.
“Awesome? Charming? A great kisser?”
You glared, but there was no anger behind it. “In the way!”
“In the—? Oh come on!” he still refused to let you squirm out of his arm. Especially now that your skin was flushed with a deeper shade of red that he was sure was not due to the summer hear. “Those things you’re cooking are gonna take a while, like, a long while! . . . and I’ve missed being here. . .”
In the way he said here and pulled you into him, snuggling into your hair, your thoughts where that he wasn’t talking about being in that state, but here in your room. That caused the blush on your skin to turn redder and you were sure you looked like a Cherry shrimp, all bright red. Jack’s constant kissed on the side of your face and neck didn’t help in the discoloration of your skin and only intensified the color.
“Are you concocting something?” he asked, noticing you were fighting to keep your body still and not fling him into the glass breakers and test tubes behind him (he had forced you to walk away from them a while back). If it was because you didn’t want to break your experiment, or because you didn’t want to hurt him, or simply because you had begun to want this as much as he, Jack couldn't decide.
“I’m not concocting anything,” you flinched slightly as Jack laid another cold kiss on your neck, “but I think you are, and I’m not letting you get away with it—stop licking me!”
He chuckled, but didn’t let go. The fire in your eyes, whether of anger or passion he didn’t know, was amusing to him because he didn’t see you losing your focus all that much. You had always looked collected, with an unnerving calm expression when you did everything (experiments or work), but tonight you were completely flustered and trying very hard to keep your mind together and away from where he was trying to lead you.
“Why can’t you be useful for once?”
“I’m always useful!” he grinned, walking forward with you, which meant he was more-or-less pushing you around, until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees. You didn’t have time to let out a gasp of surprise as you fell back, Jack falling on you a second later. “See? I’m keeping you warm—because you’re all flushed and your skin is hot.”
“That’s because it’s summer, and get your hand off my thigh!”
In truth, he had no clue on what the hell he was doing, that much you could tell by the look in his eyes. His body was working on instinct, doing what the subconscious told it to do; just as how your body was reacting with the same effect, following the instinct that came with all living things to reproduce. But unlike most creature, for human, sometimes, was solely for pleasure and not reproduction. Which, you thought, that would be impossible for Jack to be able to do in his state.
Jack was looming over your body, one arm underneath your leg and holding your thigh tight, the other was being used for support so he wouldn’t crush. You lay there, eyes narrowed at him, absolutely pissed off at the reaction your body was showing him, and embarrassed at the fact that you also had no idea what you were doing, which was for two things; one, what lead after this much physical contact. And two, why the hell were you letting him do it?!
But any train of thought you had left in your mind left as soon as Jack’s cold lips fell on your and kissed you far more strongly that moment before. His hand that had been holding your thigh was slowly and softly moving up your bare leg, over your shorts, and running under your shirt. Jack let his body weight press down on you as he moved under your shirt, knowing all too well that squirming that came when something ice cold touched warm skin. His hand had the same effect on your skin as an ice cube would have caused after it was maliciously placed there. But this cold feeling could not be compared to that of an ice cube, because it wasn’t wet or melting. The coldness was constant, so constant that it slightly burned as if touching dry ice.
Your skin produced the exact same reaction to Jack, but for a completely different reason. It was burning, your skin against his, and it didn’t matter what he was touching, the covered skin or the uncovered part, the high temperature was scorching. At first he had thought the temperature was normal and that it felt hot because of his cold skin and because the temperature in your home was warm, but it felt like he was touching fire. He was being burned, and it was the first time he would say he felt a melting sensation fall over his cold body.
But that didn’t stop him, and he continued to run his cold hand over your stomach. Stopping only to pull back down the hem of your shirt and start dragging it up. Before you could protest, he kissed you, and made sure to muffle any sound, if there were any, of protest that might come from the action. Pulling away only to pull your shirt over your head, Jack continued to kiss you. It was a theory, put you thought the only reason he was kissing you so thoroughly was so you didn’t have enough time to regain your thoughts, to get reason flowing back into your body.
Your only motion of reason, so far, was your arms crossing protectively over your chest as jack pulled back to look at you. Like most of your tank-tops, they had built in support, so when Jack had taking it off, he had left you bare from the waist up. His blue eyes travelled your body, memorizing it, you thought, every inch of flushed skin. When he reached to remove your arms that covered your chest, you pulled back and sat up with your back against the wall.
“Uh-uh, why am I the only one without a shirt?” you glared, but the blush on your face, and the shaking of your body didn’t give it the edge it usually held. Jack smiled at that and pulled his sweater over his head, only to reveal a gray shirt underneath.
“One and one,” he said as he threw it on the ground, “I take something off after I take something off of you.”
“T-that's cheating!” you shrieked as he pulled you by the ankles and trying to kiss you once more, only to having you press an arm to his chest to shove him. “You have way more clothes than I do!”
“Then you shouldn’t be wearing almost nothing.”
You looked up at his blue eyes, seeing seriousness in them that was usually never there when Jack was with you. He probably believed you walked around the city in what you were wearing now, but truth be told, you would only wear this at home and only when you, or sometimes your mother, where in the house. But Jack didn’t want an explanation, and it wasn’t like you were going to give him one anyway, and he simply continued to kiss you as soon as he felt your arm loosen.
Forgetting that he was completely dress and that you had wanted to take his shirt off, you drifting back into the bed as Jack kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, and lower where he now easily pushed your arms aside. He was mesmerized by the color or your skin, the warmth it offered, and his kissed became less urgent. Taking his time as he explored every inch of your upper body with his lips, Jack tried to convey the love he felt for you with ever butterfly kiss he lay on your skin. You trusted him, it was evident in the way you had close your eyes and would arch into his touch. The thoughts of him removing his clothing had left you, but only for those moments he kissed your body. When he kissed your lips again, your hands had taken hold of his shirt and refused to let go.
Jack chuckled, “You pulling it off?”
“Ripping it off if you don’t stop pressing against me.” you gave his jaw a quick kiss as he laughed, lifting his weight from your body and giving you access to removing his shirt. You did so slowly, very slowly that Jack thought you were thinking against it, but that wasn’t the cause of your slow pace.
You were watching every inch of bare skin that was becoming visible as you lifted his shirt. His torso was white, a very pale white. There was no color to his skin, no flush to hint of the blood that ran underneath it, no warmth to confirm his state of living. It was soft, smooth, and cold, but not an uncomfortable cold. It was the cool feeling of walking into a building with a/c during the hottest days of summer and you had been walking outside. Maybe that was the thought behind you hugging Jack close, or maybe it was the thought of wanting to feel his bare skin against yours. It didn’t matter, Jack seemed to now understand you weren’t thinking his skin was some sort of sick mutation (you were staring at him weirdly!), and that you were just studying him like you had done from the very first time you saw him.
Jack held you in his arms, content with just having you in his arms and you hugging him close. He could feel the wild beating of your heart, and it kept getting louder as the second passed by. Your body was beginning to shake cool by having him wrapped around you.
“I have no idea what to do.” You said softly, Jack sheepishly grinning as he knew exactly how you felt.
“Then do what you always do.” He pushed your shoulders back, kissing your lips once before smiling down at you. “Trial and error, joy-kill.”
You frowned. “Since when are you so willing to be a lab-rat?”
Jack didn’t answer as he pushed you down on the bed, kissing you less softly and more passionately. His hands, which had been small, carefree caresses on your body, were now roaming down your body with a purpose; his fingers hooked on the edge of your shorts as he tried to pull them down. It took his a second or two to realize he had to unbutton and unzip them to get them to slip off your legs. But once he figured out that mechanic, they were off and thrown on the floor.
You lay bare beneath him, Jack having pulled back to rest on his knees was looking at you with what seemed like awe. He didn’t force you to uncover yourself when you got nervous and crossed your arms over your chest, he just smiled and bent down to kiss your cheek sweetly. But that was the first step only, to calm your nerves, to make you feel safe, to blur your mind as his hand removed the last bit of clothing you had left.
Your eyes were wide, wild with both pleasure and panic as he caressed your hip. Your body shaking with nervousness, excitement, and coldness that came with being held in the arms of a winter spirit. He still wore his pants as he moved in between you, but they fell loosely around his hips. He had kept them on because he knew the temperature of his body contrasted with yours greatly. His kisses had already marked every inch of your skin with only his lips touching you, his fingers left actual prints on your body, and he didn’t know what his entire body on yours would do.
Even with the fabric of his pants grazing your skin, you could feel the coldness of his as he pressed against you. Once, you remembered, you had read something about the first time feeling like a warm knife slicing into your body. Maybe it was some hardcore stuff on the internet or something you had heard in your earlier years as a teen, but it something you had been expecting. Although when jack did push forward and you felt the sudden pierce and tearing of something, the only warmth you felt was of your body, and what had intruded was ‘ice’.
The feeling was conflicting; the burning sensation was there, but the coldness seemed to be easing it away. Then again, that cold was too cold and it felt like a frozen metal stuck on your skin. You flinched at the smallest of movement, and Jack noticed this because his face fell as if he were in pain, too. He waited for a few seconds before moving again, keeping his eyes on your face to take in every expression, to see if he wasn’t hurting you. What he saw was the change of pain crossing on your face to something akin to pleasure.
“You okay, joy-kill?” he asked, to only get a nod as a response. It was only a minute after your hips began to move with his, no longer could pain be seen on your face.
Your hand balled up the sheet underneath you, the other was pressed to your mouth to keep yourself from making any loud sound, but Jack liked to move it now and again. He would take it in his hand, kiss it, and press it down on the mattress with his. Jack had been careful not to press up his chest against your, but you refused to not have him close. You want to hug him to you, and you did, muffling his protest with a deep kiss (google is one hell of a browser), and taking his mind of the after effect his body had on your. He should let you worry about that later.
How hard can it be to explain you got frostbite during the hottest days of summer?
You had your arms wrapped around his neck, sitting on his lap as he sat cross-legged on your bed. Your skin was beginning to burn everywhere it made contact with his, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him, to be closer to him, although any closer than this was impossible, yet that’s exactly what you wanted. The impossible.
There was panting in the air that you couldn’t point out if it was you panting, or Jack, or both, which was the most reason probability. You just knew it was getting heavier, chopping and becoming short sharp intakes of breath. Your nails dug into Jack’s back as you held on to him tighter than you had before, your head resting on his shoulder as he moved your body with his own at a faster pace. Your vision was blurring, your concentration, if you had any left, was diminishing and you could no longer tell where you were only that you were with Jack.
It was in that moment of mental bliss that one thought crawled into your mind, which acted on in a second fearing you would lose it. You kissed Jack’s neck as warmth spread between your legs, body going limp in Jack’s arms, your head resting on his shoulder once your body had turned to jello. Jack was still moving, you could feel him as you tried to make yourself more solid on him, but his movement didn’t last long, and your eyes closed at the feel of him kissing you as he held your hips tightly to his.
Jack remembered you falling asleep first, after having dragged your nails on his back, and after marking his neck. He didn’t doubt the fact that you still took random test about his body, and that bite mark was the frustration on not knowing how to leave a love mark. He didn’t quite know how to do it himself, but he only had to touch you to leave them. Having woken up by a sudden weight being pressed dramatically on him, Jack got a glimpse of your bare skin marked with fingerprints, handprints, mostly on the thighs, and kiss marks all over before you had pulled on his sweater.
At the moment you were freaking out about the liquid you were testing having evaporated, and then your face would turn a bright red as memories crossed your mind. Jack sat on the bed studying you in his sweater, burning the image in his mind, until he decided to stand up and hug you from behind. He thank Mim that you only let out a surprised shriek and didn’t smash any glass on his head. And he grinned at the fact that your entire body turned red and you could look at him.
“What were you testing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you into a tight hug. Your eyes strained on the glass tubes which were the only things that had a drop of colored liquid, face red and burning, your voice failing you as Jack saw your mouth open and close about three time before giving you a quick peck and watching the red turn a deep shade of red before taking the tone of violet.
“I-I wasn’t . . . testing anything.” Your voice was soft, mouth pouting as you turned away from Jack. He would only tease you on the way you looked at the moment, you just knew he would, and he would enjoy it way too much. “I was m-making . . . ice stick tea . . .”
Jack took hold of your chin and turned you to look at him, and he tooked rather confused s to what you had said.
“It’s a sweet ice treat for summer,” you told him, “I was curious to know how they would taste after melted and heated up like tea.”
His eyes were shining with a mischievous glint, the side of his mouth twitching into that sadistic smile when he was think of doing something that placed him in the naughty list. Your blushed and that smirk spread fully on his lips before being pressed to your. Whatever thought he was having on your comment, you didn’t want to ask in fear he was just going to distract you more from your summer work.
“It’s a success, joy-kill.”
“Stay the hell away from my science book, weather phenomenon.”