The Summer Shack


Rating: M (sexual content)

Words: 4,189

Chapter: One


Jack rolls his eyes as his own mother giggles too highly and too fakely, leaning forward to undoubtedly drag Arnold's eyes to her suffocated cleavage. God, did she really move them all the way down here to stupid Texas so she could find her seventh, helpless husband? She finally got rid of Jerry just three weeks ago! What is wrong with this woman? Jack expertly swallows his disgust at her expected routine and mumbles something about going for a walk, knowing she doesn't care, and slipping out of their new "home".

Texan sun glares down at him, and he winces, not used to such bright, blinding rays if his pale skin isn't proof enough. Cursing, he sneaks back into the house through the back door, not wanting to see his whorish mother in the parlor; and climbs the stairs to grab an unpacked box.

Cardboard box tucked carefully under his arm, Jack runs down the street, no interest to check out his neighborhood. Unbeknownst to him, his hurry catches a watchful golden eye.

Now finding himself deep inside an unknown forest, panting heavily, Jack swears again. "Shit." He does this from time to time - just goes, not knowing where, or remembering how he got there. But he's outside an old wooden house, more like a shack really. Already lost, Jack doesn't see the harm in venturing inside.

The tin roof is torn, sunlight filtering in from above like a perfect spotlight. Surprisingly, there's no vines or any plant life inside. Jack jumps up and down testily before shrugging, setting his box down on the creaky wooden floorboards. He ruffles through it pulls out what he needs, first pressing play on his radio, letting Avril's Here's to Never Growing Up blast through the speakers. With that, he gets to work, spreading out one of his many rolls of blank vanilla paper and pencils, beginning to sketch whatever occupies his mind enough to control his hand.

Thinking he had lost the boy, hearing the music is a huge relief. He trudges forward, pausing outside the rackety door and blaring music. When a voice joins in the singing, he fucks all caution and heads inside to a scene purely timeless.

A towheaded boy younger than himself, stumbling around and singing along with all his might, eyes closed peacefully despite uncontrolled, loose movements.

Suddenly Jack opens his eyes and the chorus dies in his throat at the sight of the grinning stranger propped in the doorway. He swallows at his first thought. He's hot. Then blushes. But he is - all floppy black hair and piercing golden gaze. Jack's never seen anyone wear red flannel so well before, or turn black converse into a serious fashion statement when they so clearly are not.

Jack gasps, hands flying to his gaping mouth and flinging a pencil across the room. The stranger gives an easy, breathy laugh, smiling, "That's a late reaction."

"N-n-no!" Jack stammers, flinging out an accusing finger, "You-you look like Marshall Lee! That's like, I mean, that's like my favorite character ever! Cartoon wise," He turns his surprised stare into a thoughtful one, looking down, "I have a lot, actually…"

Mind racing, Jack doesn't notice Marshall Lee walking toward him until he turns and he's right in his face. "Marshall Lee, huh? Is that that stupid show, Adventure Time?" He gasps again, raggedly, leaning back in absolute horror. "Don't you dare call stupid unless the next word following is funny!" Marshall laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets, accidentally revealing unnaturally sharp teeth - canines especially. Gasping once again, Jack leans forward now, peering at his mouth. "That's it. I have to know your name. What is it? I'm Jack, also, I forgive you about the whole intruding thing."

He scoffs in response, rolling his eyes, "Call me Pitch, and there was no intruding." Jack leans forward even more, firmly deciding he will flirt his ass off far better than his desperate mother. "But you knew someone was in here." He replies, peering up at him, then squinting a bit, "Then again, what's the likelihood of you just strolling through the woods and happening to come across here, hm? Did you follow me, Pitch?" He makes sure he drags the word out, staring determinedly up at the slightly older boy. Pitch smirks dangerously, leaning even closer and staring down at him just the same. "Doesn't seem you're too opposed to the idea, Jack."

Ok, he closed his eyes and whimpered. Not because his name was spoken, but because he just made it sound so...bad, like a fucking swear. Pitch laughs, "How old are you anyway?"

"What does it matter?" Eyes still closed.

"Fifteen." Jack flashes his startlingly blue eyes, "Lucky guess. You're...eight…teen?" Pitch nods, grinning wide now. "What?"

"Got any experience in this department?" Jack blushes, how did this happen? Is it usually this quick? He's already talking sexual experience...isn't he? Well if he is, then eighteen-year-olds move fast, they take no shit. Or maybe this one just doesn't. "Should I take that as nonexistent?"

"I-u-well, no, I just- I um, uh…" His head falls slowly to his chest in shame. "Yes…" He mumbles. "Fucking perfect." The laughing reply shocks him, he looks up to Pitch, now sporting a shit eating, yet terrifying grin. "W-what? Why?"

Abruptly, there are large, warm hands under his hoodie, gripping his sides. Jack gives a small, short gasp of surprise. Pitch surprises him a lot so far. "I'm gonna teach you everything." Jack swallows in paralyzing fear as the older male closes the distance between them in a kiss too passionate and bruising to be their first.

What? How did the wall get behind him? How did Pitch's hands get on his chest? Why aren't his feet touching the ground? Why is he stroking a tongue with his own? All of these questions and more bombard Jack's mind before he finally catches a grasp on the situation. He's against a wall, Pitch easily lifting him up by his slender waist, body crushed against his with the boy's tongue shoved down his throat. Jack relaxes after minutes of numbness, enough to gingerly wrap his limbs around Pitch's frame, and kiss back slowly. Pitch allows the lull in tempo, letting the kiss grow slow and tender.

But what Jack will soon learn, is nearly everything with Pitch, is an exchange. Where their kissing grows slow, their lower halves do the opposite. Pitch hungrily grinds into the younger boy's awoken crotch, drawing a shudder from him. He pulls away to laugh. Jack's pale hands nervously play with his collar, "P-Pitch, I-oh!" Another grind against his inexperienced region and Jack is putty in his hands, doing everything in his power to take the pleasurable sensations.

He fists Pitch's flannel, squeezing his eyes shut and bringing his head to the boy's shoulder, whimpering past the bottom lip stored securely between his teeth. When it becomes too much, Jack shudders, desperately pushing the older teenager away. Though his little fists don't do much, weakly pressing against Pitch's firm chest. But he doesn't stop, instead, Pitch gains a wicked glint in his eye and rubs against Jack's arousal especially hard.

Jack whines helplessly, "Aah-ah, ha, Pitch, please, I can't- oh oooh, ha!" He doesn't have to look down to know a hand is now palming his full on erection. Then he hears the buckle first rather than feel it. He gasps, eyes widening to plead with the teen, "Pitch, no, please, I ca-"

"You'll like it." He cuts in, appearing so wicked and sexy at the same time, Jack wonders if he's the devil or something. "Yeah - too much." But he's already got his belt undone, and is unbuttoning, zipping down the fly. Jack squirms before squeezing his eyes shut with a yelp, his premature cock now wrapped in a tight hold. He snatches Pitch's wrist in a last ditch effort, pleading, "Pitch. Can we do this tomorrow? Or never? I don't think I'm ready."

"It's gonna feel really good, Jack."

"It already does - it's too much. You can teach me later, alright?" He smiles, trying to sell it. "If you don't like it - honestly don't like it, then I won't teach you a goddamn thing, and be on my way. Deal?" Jack nods, not even getting to utter a yes before pleasure is seizing him. "Y-ah,ah,aahh,hm,ha,ha,oh"

Pitch grins, jerking harder to draw out more sounds, "You're like audio porn, Jack, it's gorgeous." His hand squeezes tightly before tugging hard, causing Jack's hips to buck forward. "Ha-ooooohhhhh!"

Pitch licks a finger, propping Jack to lean against his chest, and before the innocent boy can get an idea of what he's doing, a hand is snaking into the back of his underwear. A finger in him before he can shout any protests. It soon becomes familiar, and then Pitch pokes around for three seconds tops before finding his nub of nerves.

Jack arches against him, crying out fuck as he pushes back against the true intrusion. Jack's fingers tighten their hold on Pitch's flannel. Just when he's about to beg for more, Pitch begins ramming into his prostate repeatedly. Jack's body jerks and stutters between the pleasure sprouting from his cock and ass, beginning a pornographic mantra of shit. "Ah, shit, shit, shit, aww,ha, don't stop please, please please don't stop,ha." Pitch gives the same breathy laugh, looking down at the boy trembling against his chest, "Don't worry, Jack, I won't." But it was taking a lot of will not to shove the his underwear down, remove his finger, and just fuck him senseless. He adds a second finger and speeds up the hand on his cock. "Ah,ah,ohgod, wait. I don't want to ruin your shirt." Jack clumsily unbuttons his flannel to a white undershirt. "Oh,oh,oh no!"

"It's ok, Jack, I have plenty of 'em. Let go." He groans at the pain of withholding his much needed orgasm, peering up at him, "N-no, I-I can't."

"Yes you can. Cum on me." Jack's crystal eyes widen to impossible measures before squeezing shut with a nearly pained yelp, and hunching against Pitch, shooting his load onto the white undershirt. Pitch's hand jerks him through the spurting release, his hips bucking wildly. Once empty Jack slumps boneless against his, well, what would you call this? "Man, for a little guy, you sure do come a lot."

Blushing profusely, Jack ignores him, "What...are we?" He pants weakly. "I don't care."

"No, give me something. I mean, are we lovers now? I think I'm too young for that."

"I hate that word." Jack manages to twist his neck upward, and sure enough, his face has gone sour. "Fine, I just want to sleep anyway."

"Then, mind getting off for a second?" Blushing, Jack weakly complies, lying on the dusty floor. Pitch then strips himself of the flannel and soiled shirt. He folds the flannel into a ball, propping it under Jack's head. But the boy doesn't even notice, staring wide eyed at his muscular torso. "Can I touch? Well, can you come down here so I can touch?" Pitch sits down and lets Jack's shockingly cold hand roams over his chest and abdomen. He tries pushing the older boy down, finally grunting, "Lay down." Pitch rolls his eyes as he does so, stiffening when Jack rolls onto his chest with a sigh.

"I like this pillow better."

"...um...I was going to jerk off…" Jack just grabs the already soiled undershirt and shoves it into his hand. Pitch sighs, that comment meaning to get Jack off of him. But the poor kid is already snoring softly, so he grabs his flannel and drapes it over his shoulders despite the Texan heat. It seemed like the appropriate gesture, alright?

Hours later, Pitch rouses to find the sunlight had been replaced by the moon. He dozed off! Isn't even hard anymore! Pitch swears at the missed opportunity before deciding to hell with it, and shoves his hand down his pants anyway. His fingers curl around his limp cock and begin a quick rhythm. Mere minutes later he's grunting softly and bucking his hips into his hand. He makes sure to keep his arm relaxed, knowing he tends to last pretty long.

Minutes later, Jack comes to, sleepily taking in Pitch's wincing expression before trailing down to the hand jerking in his jeans. Immediate extreme arousal. Jack swallows and watches, eyes flicking between his face and hand, not even sure if Pitch knows he's awake. "Pitch."

"Y-yeah?"

"How does it feel?" Pitch laughs at that, turning to look up at him. "Fucking great, Jack."

"Heh, thought so." Jack lets his own hand wander to his still exposed, and now hardening cock, mimicking his actions. Pitch notices, and smirks, "Come here, you little shit." He lifts him up before a reply, setting Jack on his lap so he straddles him. Getting it, Jack leans forward and works at Pitch's belt and pants, finally releasing the older boy's much bigger cock. Then Pitch grabs both of them in a secure hold and begins tugging fiercely.

Jack throws his head back and moans, biting his lip to suppress more sounds as his body jerks with every movement. "What are you holding back for? There's no one here but us, Jack. We are secluded in the woods." He just shakes his head in silent obstination. Pitch smirks to himself and looks down at the boy's smaller cock before peeking his thumb under the foreskin.

Jack's blue eyes snap open as he arches into the touch. "Fuck!" Pitch lets loose a nearly maniacal laugh, sending his thumb into a circular motion. "Aw, fuck, Pitch please don't do that!" The older boy shakes his head, utterly amused with himself, "Why did I ever have mercy before?" Jack opens his mouth for a witty reply, instead only releasing a string of whimpers and moans, silently cursing himself as he does.

Pressure builds too quickly, causing his hips to stutter and grind against Pitch's. Finally, Jack brings his fists to rest beneath his chin and lets his mouth fall slack. "Oh,oh,oh,oh,Piiitttccchhhh,p-p-please,uh."

"Please what?" His thumb abruptly stops, hand still tugging along, but the pleasure now significantly less, the pressure winding down just as fast. Jack starts, opening his eyes and looking down at him. "No! Pitch, please finish me!"

"Lay down." Jack solemnly complies, resting their chests together and looking up into his golden eyes. The hand between them abruptly picks up speed, launching Jack into a fit of lustful, almost pained cries. Pitch studies the boy, eyes shut tight, mouth gaping wide, and feels his release approaching even quicker at the mere sight. He listens as Jack's usually erratic sounds fall into a pattern of extremely feminine gasps and whimpers broken by the occasional long moan. It sounds just like a porno.

"God, Jack, I want to kiss you so fucking bad, but the sounds you're making are incredible." Jack opens his eyes, managing to only squint a little, and tries desperately to stop his noises in order to actually speak. "A-a-are you close?"

"If you cried a little louder I would be." His eyes widen, his cries are already filling the shack, no doubt escaping it's thin walls. "L-louder?" Pitch nods, trying not to seem so eager. Jack clenches jaw determinedly, furrowing his brow, and knowing what must be done. "Fine. Rub me harder, and fuck my ass." He bites out strongly. This time, Pitch's eyes widen, "What?" Jack looks at him, hears what he just said in his mind, and then scrambles for a better instruction. "N-no, I meant, you know - with your finger!" Pitch relaxes, slightly disappointed but hiding it well, "Oh, ok." Already sliding his hand into Jack's underwear.

The change hits all at once: the thumb rubbing, pressing harder beneath his foreskin, the finger already rutting against his prostate making him easily up the volume of his cries. "Oooooohhhhhh! Aw,fuck,Pitch,aw,fuck- uh,uh, are-aw! Are you-uh,ha,aw, c-ha-close n-na-now?" Pitch places his hands on Jack's slender hips. "Y-yeah, Jack, you're doing good, ha,ha." He smiles as if pleasing a teacher, and tilts his head to kiss him hotly. As their kiss intensifies, the finger inside him grows to three. Jack resting his fists against Pitch's chest, kisses him heatedly while jutting back against the fingers lodged inside him.

Pitch pulls back to peer past Jack, catching the magnificent sight of the boy's rear arching into the air. "Jack, pull your pants down." Clearly a little startled, he hesitates, "Oh. Um...alright." Jack raises his hips and hooks his thumbs into his jeans, shoving them down his legs and revealing a flawless, pale ass. Just as Jack kicks the pants off his feet, Pitch hooks his fingers and shove them hard into his prostate. "Oh! Aw, fuck!" He cries out, arching back and grinding against the fingers, giving Pitch exactly what he wanted. Mesmerized, he watches the white ass thrust back onto his hand before just having to ask. "J-Jack? Can I fist you?"

"What?" But a fourth finger is already squeezing in, followed by a thumb. Jack is stunned and pleasured into silence, mouth opening and closing several times as he is forced to adjust. Moments later he opens his eyes and finds Pitch looks more lustful than ever before. "You swallowed my hand." Without further warning said hand is balling into a fist, stroking all the right places and making Jack shout. But when that same fist begins punching his prostate, he full on screams his pleasure.

"P-P-Pitch! I-I'm g-gonna cum!"

"Aw, me too, Jack."

Pitch digs his fingers into the bare flesh of Jack's hips just as their orgasms hit. Jack moans and whimpers at the force of it, slumping bonelessly against Pitch as white splatters and paints their chests. Pitch lets his head fall back with a very passionate, "Aw, fuck", coming seconds after Jack.

They heavily pant against each other, chests heaving under the white, sticky mess. Pitch absently strokes his damp lower back, Jack nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck, giving a soft, faint groan of exhaustion. "How was it...for you?" Jack asks nervously, scared of disappointment.

"God I can't wait to fuck you." Pitch pays the boy's freezing frame no mind, bringing up his freed hand that was just inside of the younger boy. "You want to fuck me?" Jack's cheeks blush a bright red at the thought and the words. Pitch lifts his chin, forcing him to look at him. "And I will. I'll fuck you so hard you'll have to learn to walk again." He laughs breathily at the boy's draining color, "Of course, I'll help with that." The look in his eyes says by help, he means fuck him again and again until his name is all Jack knows. He swallows slowly, trembles and shudders against him. "Can you just kiss me?" He whispers timidly, like a small child in it's sudden innocence. Pitch's face softens and he cups his face, pulling Jack's swollen lips to his own.

Pitch gives Jack everything he needs, kissing him slowly and suredly, wrapping himself protectively around the boy. When they part, they realize they are sitting up, Jack nested in Pitch's lap. "I know it's a little late to be asking but, isn't your mom worried about you, Jack?"

"Um, I don't think she'd really notice."

"What do you mean?" He asks, dark eyebrows furrowed in curiosity thin enough to reveal concern. Jack shrugs, tightening his arms around Pitch's neck, "She...well she never did in the past...why would anything change now?" His face remains confused, "Look, Pitch," He sighs, "It's a long story that is really hard to tell for me." His voice weakens with just that alone, and Pitch nods, holding him tighter. "What about you?"

"I'm eighteen - there used to this." That gets a laugh out of him, Jack giggles softly, blushing at the adoring gaze he receives in return. Jack then yawns, closing his eyes and snuggling into Pitch's shockingly hot chest. As much as he enjoys this action, Pitch whispers, "Jack? I don't think we should stay here all night." The boy looks up at him questioningly, "Why not?"

"Your mom may not care but, surprisingly, I sort of do. There's a stream near by, we can wash up there and then I'll take you home."

Jack perks up, "You have a car?"

"...yeah...but I didn't drive here - I walked. What? You like older guys, huh?" He teases, Jack blushing again and deciding not to answer. "Get your stuff, come on."

They both grab their clothes, Jack refusing to put any of his on being such a mess, carrying his box over his crotch as they leave the shack behind. Pitch laughs, "I've already seen your dick, you know." Jack blushes in embarrassment, "Yeah, I know…" He mumbles, shifting the box uncomfortably as they near the stream he of course didn't notice on his way here.

Jack lets the older boy clean both of them, finding the act incredibly relaxing and blissful. He pauses when Pitch holds up a clean piece of cloth he tore from the undershirt. "Turn around." Jack freezes. "What? No."

"Jack, I've already been in there myself," He holds out the rag, "Feel free to do it yourself."

"Fine, just do it already." Pitch shuffles through the water, still towering over Jack even when kneeling. A strong hand rests on Jack's lower back, shoving him against his chest. Pitch silently runs the cloth through his thighs, pushing them apart, then over his ass, cleaning him so gently it draws a soft gasp from the boy - especially when those golden eyes never leave his own. Jack shudders, feeling his finger through the thin fabric as it rubs circles over his anus before sweetly dipping inside.

Quickly, Jack grabs his wrist and shoves his hand away. "No."

"What?"

"You know exactly what you're doing. I thought you were going to take me home."

"I am."

"But not without a quickie, huh?"

"Jack, I promise I'm just cleaning you." Blushing, Jack mumbles an ok, and lets him finish, after which they both dry and dress. Now walking back, Pitch finds Jack strangely quiet, before realizing the boy is slowly dozing off. With a roll of his eyes he takes the box and hefts Jack onto his back. "Thanks." He murmurs, just alert enough to notice the current position. "Don't mention it. Seriously, I don't want to hear of this again." Jack gives a soft, tired laugh that brushes against his ear, "Alright…"

Pitch drops him off at the back door, propping Jack against the door frame so he won't fall, handing him the box as he opens the screen door. "Ok, Jack! You're home."

"Oh, thanks…" Jack clumsily stumbles inside, catching Pitch just as he turns to leave. "Wait!...I'll be seeing you tomorrow, right?"

Pitch smirks, "What? One taste and you can't live without me?" Jack blushes and he waves a hand, "I'm just kidding. Yeah, you'll see me. Be there at two."

"What will we be doing?"

"What, am I really a teacher now? Am I supposed to have lesson plans are something?"

"Sorry." Jack looks away sheepishly, blushing once again. "I'll give you a hint, fucker," He leans in really close, so close his lips graze Jack's in a stiffening tease. "I'll be using my mouth." Jack swallows, wide eyed, and blinks several times before they're kissing slow and easy. Pitch pulls away somewhat reluctantly, Jack fisting his slightly damp flannel. "Goodnight, Pitch."

"Goodnight, fucker."

"Is that my new nickname?" Pitch scoffs, "You're not special - I call everyone fucker." He replies, shoving his hands in his pockets and already walking away. Jack bites his tongue in order not to call out goodbye, heading inside to his room, mother no where in sight.