Bad Influence
Jack paused a second to glance at the clear skies. The few lazily drifting clouds were showering the world with fat, round snowflakes. He held out his hand and saw one of the crystals settle on his palm. He studied it with a curious fascination before it melted, reduced to water by his body temperature.
Jack grinned widely. He loved winter. It was by far the most fun season of them all. He remembered being a little boy and watching through the window as the blanket of white slowly covered what seemed at the time to be the world. He would sit by the ledge for hours on end sometimes, just watching each flake dance their life dance to the music of the wind. He used to imagine each one had a personality, just like humans, since no flake was the same as another. In a way, despite growing up, he'd never stopped believing that.
With a sprint in his steps, Jack resumed his walk. Even if it was a Friday and he had school, just for the fact that it was snowing he was in a great mood. His black boots made squishing sounds as he stepped through the slush, some of the dirty water splashing on the leg of his brown skinny jeans. He dug his hands inside the pockets of his faded blue hoodie in an attempt to keep them warm but his smile didn't waver for a second.
He turned a sharp corner and he was there, Guardian High School. An impressive four story structure with almost all the windows broken and every inch of what-once-could-have-been-white walls covered in graffiti. Some trees still stood proudly, scattered around the front entrance but they all had words carved into their barks and a lovely 'Fuck You' met Jack every time he crossed the front gate.
Still it wasn't all bad. Frankly Jack was happy to get an education at all, even from a school filled with society's rejects. This was basically where all the delinquents, the poorest of the poor, the problem children were bunched together and the result was well...one only had to take a look at the stolen and burned remains of a car just inside the school premises. Most people stirred way clear of the entire area and with good reason too. Jack lost count of the number of arrests happening during his class times...
But it was the best he got. He knew that with his background an education, any education, was virtually a miracle. His parents died when he was a young boy and his little sister was but a baby. After that it was foster home after foster home but he always ended up in the orphanage. Very few people wanted to deal with a ten year old boy and a three year old girl, since he put up an opposition whenever anyone tried to separate them. And those who did take them in soon found out about Jack's tendency to cause trouble, despite how hard he tried to be good, and they got fed up and send them right back to that hell hole.
Now Jack was seventeen and as soon as he reached the status of an adult he promised he would take his sister and go away. Which was why an education was so vitally important. Ever since he was old enough, at the age of fourteen, he'd been getting odd jobs and saving all his money but he was still quite poor. He hoped to have enough scraped together for a place to live in by the time they left. Whatever it took he vowed to give his sister a better chance than he had. After all, he was the only family she had left and vice versa was also true.
The soft chirp of a robin brought Jack out of his sombre thoughts. He glanced around and grinned widely. Unconsciously he'd been walking towards his most favourite spot on campus, and probably in the city. At the back of the school was a large lake with barb wire fencing surrounding it. That was to prevent harm to the students or...the students harming others. In a school such as Guardian High it wasn't that hard to fathom...
But Jack was a rule breaker by nature and the fence was a small obstacle. He walked around the wire until he reached a secluded spot, almost completely hidden by a towering pine. The ground sunk just low enough for him to crawl under since he was so skinny for his size. It was like stepping in a whole new realm. On one side of the fence empty bottles and condoms littered the ground and on the other the scenery was picturesque. Something straight out of a painting.
For some reason the students left this spot alone. Maybe they too liked to have at least one thing still beautiful around them. Jack walked towards the edge of the lake, his boots leaving large prints in the fresh mantle of snow. The water was completely frozen and when he looked down his reflection grinned back up at him as clear as if it were a mirror. He wondered if it was strong enough to support his weight...The robin chirruped encouraging and Jack was just about to do it when...
'Oy! What are you doing there?' Jack spun around, drawing his foot back from the ice like it had burned him. He looked at the metallic barrier in alarm, aware he'd been caught red-handed. The lake was off limits to students...But when he saw the speaker he visibly relaxed.
'Oh. It's just you Bunny.' The PE instructor. He was a giant of a man with broad shoulders, a thin waist and powerful legs designed for racing. Jack heard rumours that the guy had actually been a world champion but he had a bit of a temper and when he lashed out at a fan his career was over. Other rumours said he was found using drugs. Others said he had a gambling problem. The only thing they all agreed on was that Bunnymund had been a world famous racing champion.
'That's Mr Bunnymund for you. Now get out of there before you hurt yourself.' Jack glanced regretfully one last time at the lake before following the Australian teacher's orders. The guy looked intimidating, with his frowning eyes and silvering hair, but Jack knew he was as soft as plush on the inside. They constantly argued but he was aware Bunnymund got him out of trouble on a regular basis, though he would probably opt to drown in the lake than admit it to Jack.
'Happy now?' Jack ducked under the barbwire and re-emerged on the school premises. He had to step wide to avoid a large shard of glass just waiting to cut someone to ribbons.
'Shouldn't you be in class?' Bunnymund looked sternly at him but he couldn't quite hide that softness lighting up his bright green eyes.
'Shouldn't you be hiding some eggs?' It was a joke he made at the other's address. Because of his name and his nickname Jack called him the Easter Bunny. It wasn't an insult per say and Bunnymund wasn't all that offended at that idea. God knew there were worse things to be called...
'It's not even spring! Get out of here before I decide to bring you to the principal.' He crossed his hands in front of him and glared as Jack flashed him a cocky grin before darting away with a hasty 'Thanks' thrown over his shoulder.
Jack was sure Bunny was watching him until he entered the building so he decided to do the right thing, for once, and avoid detention since it was such a nice day. Too nice to spend it inside with Bunnymund glaring at him the entire time. Then again he could play his favourite game, 'See how long it takes to make Bunny snap.' His record so far was two sentences. Apparently the Australian really hated being called a kangaroo...
Even so, Jack much preferred a good snowball fight. Plus Mr MiM was a scary man, or so he'd heard. Few actually saw the principal in person. Fewer still knew his actual name. To the world he was known as Mr MiM, owner of the Man in Moon Corporation. He was the richest man in the world though Jack wasn't quite sure what his corporation did...He did know however that the billionaire had funded several schools and hospitals and other charity organisations.
Guardian High was one of his projects and technically he was the principal though he was never on the campus. However he always seemed to know what was happening, how Jack hadn't the foggiest idea, and if you were in trouble you would get a letter with the insignia of a round moon on it. They were usually delivered by the teachers, again Jack had no idea how MiM actually sent the letters. There were many questions revolving around the mysterious benefactor, like why did he still communicate by letter in the modern age?
Shaking his head to himself, Jack decided to turn his thoughts on other things. What class was he supposed to be in anyway? It wasn't art. Though he liked Mr Sandman or Sandy as he was more commonly known. The small man was mute and asleep most of the time but when he was awake he was so full of energy it was like watching Speedy Gonzales half the time. Plus he was one of the few adults who treated the students like actual people and not like garbage. It felt nice to be praised or encouraged once in a while...
Not to say he was the only one. Bunnymund was also one of the better adults. In fact Jack could count four of them. Sandy, Bunny, North and Tooth. North was the woodwork teach and he was only adult in body. He had a bellowing laugh which shook the foundations of the building and Jack couldn't remember a time when he hadn't welcomed the students to his class with jolly enthusiasm. He spent most of the classes designing toys and eating cookies so Jack christened him Santa Claus. It made insanely good sense considering the way he behaved...
Then there was Tooth, the only female administrator. Biology was her field and she also acted as the nurse of the school. She was so busy half the time, running form one corner of a hallway to the other, Jack expected her to sprout wings and fly off. She was by far the kindest, most gentle creature he'd ever seen and that was a rarer sight than a unicorn in that sort of environment. The students, no matter how mean and rebellious, always treated her with as much respect as they could put together since no matter how late it was or haw busy she was if someone was hurt she would rush to help, sometimes staying over for entire nights if there was a gang fight. Considering most of the kids couldn't even imagine affording a hospital bill she was often a life saviour. MiM paid for all expenses.
Jack ran through the names and found his heart warming. He got more love from his teachers than an entire life at the hands of his foster careers. He was always treated as a burden and a problem there but here, he actually felt like a human being. But he didn't have PE or woodwork, or art or biology. Jack had English...
Pitch clenched his teeth, his anger one step from bursting into violence. His day so far had been disastrous and it was only the morning. As if waking up with a glaring sun, getting a splitting headache and burning his hand while pouring his coffee hadn't been enough, he had to run into his neighbour. God he hated that man. He hated many things but that man...he had pleasant dreams of slitting his throat in the middle of the night.
He was one of those overly cheery types with a high pitched voice that reminded Pitch of nails scraping against a blackboard. It didn't sound anything like that but it had the same effect on him. And his stupid broad smile and horrible looking sweaters and perfectly kept front garden. GAH! Pitch wasn't sure why but the man just drove him up the walls! He was just TOO nice! It was unnatural...
That morning, Tom whatever-his-second-name-was, greeted him with a sugar saturated 'GOOD MORNING!' so loud Pitch visibly flinched and dropped his keys. It took him over five minutes of combing the snow and slush, effectively ruining his gloves, before he found them again. Fortunately he was good at pretending and he muttered a 'god morning' in return, pointedly ignored Tom's attempt at chatter by pretending he hadn't heard him.
Of course the neighbour had to shout 'HAVE A GOOD DAY!' after him and Pitch hurried to put as much distance as possible between them. The annoying voice didn't do anything to help his growing headache...A few meters and he began to relax, content to be the only one on the road. He was glad he'd decided to walk that morning since it was quite a nice day, a little dark just like he liked it. Winter was his favourite season. He liked that the nights were longer and the days shorter.
He ran a hand through his ashen hair. He looked like a walking shadow, in his black suit and equally dark knee length coat. Even his skin looked morbidly pale. In fact the only parts of him that weren't some shade of grey, white or black were his strikingly golden eyes. Ever since he could remember he was treated as an outcast and pretty much shunned. People just couldn't deal with his intensity and the more alone he became the more he withdrew from the world around him. He pretty much became a recluse, buried in his books and skulking in the shadows.
Still, that didn't mean he wasn't content. He was a very successful man with a degree in history and English. He had a two story house in the well-off part of the city, though he was seriously thinking about moving just to get away from that fucking neighbour of his. He was a successful author of three books, two of which were bestsellers. He had enough money to do whatever the hell he pleased.
But despite liking his solitude and silence, Pitch also craved some sort of human contact, which was why he decided to become a professor. Not because he needed the money, certainly not for what they paid him...Unfortunately he never lasted more than a few weeks before he snapped and did something...'unprofessional' and he'd be 'let go'.
Then one day he received a letter in the post with a stamp of a full moon on the front. There was no return address or name or anything written on it which only served to pique Pitch's curiosity. He opened it cautiously to find a letter inside from Mr MiM. The name clicked instantly. Who didn't know of Man in Moon Corporation? Even more intrigued, Pitch read the words and widened his eyes with each passing sentence.
It was a job offer. MiM was willing to pay him a ridiculous amount of money if he agreed to teach history and English at Guardian High. Pitch knew about that school. Whenever he turned on the news there was a new report of some fight or arrest sparked by the students of GH. A normal person would have ripped the piece of paper to shreds at the mention of it, but Pitch Black wasn't normal.
He found the prospect interesting, exciting even. He wasn't worried about his own health since he was a man well capable of looking after himself. It came with countless run ins with bullies ever since he was young. In an environment such as this he could be himself without being judged. His 'unprofessional' occasional outbursts wouldn't get him canned in the snap of a finger. He decided to take the job and if it didn't work out...well he wouldn't lose anything.
The next day he showed up at the school surprised to find his spot already open and he was expected to take the class. Apparently MiM had predicted his answer perfectly...That had been three months ago.
There was no question that his class was a gathering of morons who didn't put a lot of emphasise on their education but as someone once said, 'The show must go on.' He went on with his lessons, being one of the few teachers who managed to control his students with a single glare of his piercing golden gaze. He could be quite scary if he so chose and it earned him the title of 'Boogieman' amongst the pupils. Personally he preferred something more stylish like 'Nightmare King' but that's not how nicknames work...
Overall his class was relatively easy to manage with only a handful of troublesome events. There was that one arrest for possession of cocaine, he didn't remember the name of the boy taken in to custody. And there was that one morning when he arrived only to find a boy with his arm broken in three places and another pommeling into him until there was a pool of blood around the two. He called Tooth and she took care of it. Those were the worst of the mishaps...
The rest dealt with pranks and general misbehaviours which he was capable of handling. He even knew the source of them. One boy who just strived to grind his gears. Jack Frost. But the youth wasn't fooling him. He could tell the boy was a generally good character without a single bad bone in his body. He knew the game. The lonely outcast, ignored by all, striving to be acknowledged through any way he could. A soul starving for attention...It took one to know one.
Pitch saw himself in Jack, back when he was that young and all he really wanted was a pat on the back and a thumbs up. Maybe that was why he forgave Jack almost every time for his shenanigans...Most of them were harmless jokes not designed to harm anyone, though sometimes Jack's snowball fights got out of hands and a few noses were broken. Pitch remembered North saying that last winter's games managed to put five students in the hospital.
Had this been a normal learning institute Jack would have been expelled for starting the snowball fight, though he wasn't actually guilty of the whole mess, but MiM only sent him to a week of detention. Pitch suspected MiM knew more about Jack's background and had taken the boy under his wing. Actually, the mysterious man seemed to have taken all the most deprived, sorry, unfortunate souls under his wing and though Pitch found that a bit overreaching he couldn't help but be impressed...
By that point Pitch could see the school building rising in the distance. He was in a surprisingly good mood and even had a small smile playing on his thin lips. But then...a car sped by, sending dirty puddle water all over his coat and staining his expensive suit with slush. With clenched teeth, glaring eyes and ticking anger, Pitch made his way to Guardian High.
Jack took his seat and let his eyes roam over the scenery outside. He had the privilege of having a window seat, ideal for getting distracted. The ledge had a thick blanket of snow and he slid the window open a notch to let the cool crisp air freshen things up. It carried the scent of winter which only Jack seemed able to identify.
He let his fingers walk over the icy powder, smiling softly at the way his skin chilled. He was one of those few people with a very high tolerance for cold temperature. He glanced to the head of the classroom for the umpteenth time but there was still no sign of Mr Black. So strange...The guy was a stickler for punctuation and here he was fifteen minutes late...
The other guys didn't seem all that bothered and half of them lit their cigarettes, letting the smoke spiral upwards in a choking cloud. Jack even noticed a group throwing back shots in the far corner... Pitch was probably the only teacher actually capable of scaring that group of characters. While they also respected North, Bunnymund, Sandy and Tooth it wasn't the same as the respect they gave Pitch. Respect bred from fear...No easy feat in an all-boys high school of rejects. Many of them already had a criminal record!
'Hey Frost!' Jack shook himself out of his daydream and turned to the source of the noise. Oh great. Exactly what he needed. The guy, Tucker, was a brutal bully and he seemed to have some sort of problem with him. He didn't really scare Jack since he's been raised in harsh enough environments to know how to hold his own in a fight, but he didn't want the bastard to ruin his good mood.
'What do you want Tucker?' Jack's voice had an edge to it.
'How's work going? Blowing any old men lately?' Jack felt himself tense up. He was a good looking person, with his milky skin and oceanic eyes. He had sharp features and his bleached hair only made him look more fantastically attractive. Because of this he sometimes got modelling work and sometimes he had to do other things to get his pay...He wasn't proud of it and Tucker knew it. The asshole knew how to twist the knife into his wound and add a pinch of salt on top of that.
'Why? Getting jealous? Tired of being alone every night since no creature in their right mind would sleep with you? ' An animal was always most dangerous when pushed in a corner and Jack could get pretty vicious. He watched the blonde's expression cloud over and his smirk die on his lips. Served him right.
'Say that again you punk if you dare.' Tucker was already standing up and looking at him with the obvious intent of beating the shit out of him. Unfortunately Jack had a modelling job that week and he couldn't afford to fuck up his face...He had to get out of the sticky situation without letting Tucker have the last laugh. That was even worse than losing one of his current three jobs.
'You're a lousy lay.' Crap...Now he went and did it. Tucker looked much like a crazed bull seeing red and the rest of the class quietened down, sensing a fight.
'You little shit!' Tucker stepped towards him, his fist drawn back and ready to strike. Before Jack had a chance to sit up he was grabbed by the collar of his hoodie and yanked up. He had a second to flinch before BAM!
The class door flew wide open and smacked so hard against the wall everyone froze. They turned to see Mr Black at the entrance, a very irritated expression on his face, his coat dripping dirty water and his boots leaving muddy prints on the floor. He didn't spare the students a glance as he made his way towards his desk, slamming his books onto the wooden surface viciously.
'Sit down!' Those were delinquents, ready to take a bullet before taking shit from anybody, but when Pitch glared at them they scrambled to follow his command. Tucker let go of Jack's hoodie and with one last dirty look resumed his seat. It wasn't over. The fight was just postponed but Jack was good at running away so he wasn't that worried.
Pitch continued to scowl at them until they were all in their seats, all the cigarettes had been hastily put out and thrown out the windows and the alcohol bottles were hidden out of sight. When he was satisfied he turned to the blackboard and began writing the lesson plan of the day.
Jack was just as intimidated by the 'Boogieman' as the next guy but he was still too angry at Tucker's previous insults to really feel the fear. His eyes burned holes in the back of the blonde man. He was older by at least three years, having repeated two grades, and he had tattoos running all across his neck and arms. His ears were full of piercings and so was his bottom lip. The guy couldn't look any more like a bully if he tried! All in all pretty scary, the sort of man who most would avoid at all costs.
Jack clenched his fist and realized his hand was still buried in snow. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore, the cold numbing his skin to the point where the slightest movement causing an unpleasant prickling sensation. Without thinking, Jack rolled some of the snow into a ball and fired it at Tucker's head. It reached its intended target with expert precision and the older man turned around, ready to jump at him, but stopped. Even he, the great and brave Tucker, feared the 'Boogieman's' punishment. He ran his thumb across his throat in a display of cutting it open, his furious eyes only adding to his murderous display, before turning back in his seat.
Somehow that didn't satisfy Jack at all. Tucker's threat only enraged him more and unconsciously he found himself holding a second snowball in the palm of his hand. He threw it, realizing too late the jerk shifted his position slightly, but it was enough for his snowball to miss and continue flying, hitting Pitch square in the back. Jack's anger instantly morphed into dread...His heart stopped so suddenly he thought he was going into cardiac arrest.
Pitch stopped writing and spun around, his eyes all but shooting lightning at the petrified class. He shifted his eyes from one face to another, silently interrogating each student in turn and when they settled on Jack's guilty, apologetic ones he snapped. Pitch was one of those people who didn't shout when they were angry. They assumed a quiet intensity which was all the more terrifying because of its unpredictability.
'Frost, did you throw that snowball just now?' The low growl of his voice seemed as loud as a thunder in the absolutely still room. Jack didn't answer right away, his brain refusing to form any words. 'I asked you a question Jack Frost. Did you, or did you not, throw that snowball at me?'
'I wasn't aiming at you...' Jack realized too late he'd accidentally owned up to his crime. He looked down when Pitch's scowl became even more frightening. He wasn't skittish but something about the tall professor made him want to run and hide under the bed.
'And pray tell, who were you aiming for?' Jack was already neck down in trouble so he didn't see the point of hiding anything. However he couldn't say the truth since that would make him a tattletale and turn the entire class against him. He couldn't afford to end up in the hospital...
'Nobody...' This only made it sound worse, like Pitch had actually been his intended target, and Frost resigned himself to being murdered. He just hoped his sister would be safe...
'Get up here Frost.' Without daring to hesitate, Jack sat up and made his way towards the front of the class. As he passed Tucker's desk, the blonde smirked at him but Jack noted the tiniest flicker of gratitude flashing across the green eyes. He figured this would at least get him out of the promised fight...if he survived the class that is. When he reached the desk, Pitch moved out of his way and pointed to the blackboard.
'What does that say?' Jack read the white writing and muttered the words in a barely audible whisper.
'Crime and Punishment.'
'That is correct. Today's lesson was about Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment. Now it seems Jack here is willing to offer us a live example.' The entire time he spoke Pitch had his eyes glued to Jack's mutely, hung frame. 'If you would come here Mr Frost.' Pitch beckoned to Jack to join him behind the desk.
Jack wasn't sure of what to expect anymore. He threw a pleading look at Pitch, silently begging for forgiveness, but his eyes fell once more when he saw no mercy in the gold orbs. Hesitantly he walked around the piece of furniture until he was within touching distance. Without any further warning, Pitch reached forth and grabbed his upper arm harshly, pulling him up against himself, locking their lips together in a dominating kiss.
Jack was stunned and his jaw dropped, leaving himself open to Pitch's exploring tongue. The kiss was demanding and good enough to send shivers running down Jack's spine, though he had some serious experience of his own. He completely forgot about the class who were watching them with wide eyes. When Pitch was done with his lips he trailed his tongue along Jack's jaw and kissed his pale neck, leaving a blooming mark against the milky canvas of his skin.
Jack had to admit the guy was good. Without realizing it, he reached for the teacher's shoulder with one arm, since the other was still prisoner to Pitch's tight hold. A soft gasp escaped his lips when Pitch moved his free hand under the material of his hoodie, his long fingers touching the skin in all the right places. Jack indulged in the pleasure, momentarily forgetting any doubts, fears or worries. The rational part of his mind simply switched off and he didn't question the situation at all.
He actually whined when Pitch pulled back and unconsciously followed him only to be held back by the older man's arms. The golden orbs were visibly blown in an incriminating show of lust and Jack bit his lower lips. Alright...so he'd had the occasional dirty dream about his sexy, dark English teacher. So he woke up sometimes in a cold sweat and rushed to the nearest bathroom so he could relieve himself with the dreams still fresh and vivid in his mind. And now his dreams were being played out almost as if Pitch could read his inner most secrets as plainly as he would an open book.
'On your knees.' Pitch's voice was that low growl again but this time it was soaked in a baser instinct than anger. As if hypnotised, Jack lowered himself, feeling the weight of Pitch's hand on his shoulder when it pushed softly.
He knew what Pitch wanted and he moved his hands to the belt of his expensive looking trousers. He wondered if the class was still watching him, but didn't turn to see. The thought of having an audience was oddly exciting. He was the youngest member of the group, the next being twenty, so he wasn't exactly worried about their 'innocence'.
With surprisingly steady fingers, Jack unbuckled the belt and undid the buttons. He pulled the black briefs down an inch, freeing Pitch's member. He looked up at the other through his curtain of eyelashes and was met with a nod of approval. He grinned cheekily, the mischief in him rising to surface, and gave the head a teasing swipe of the tongue. He was rewarded with a soft hiss from above. He would have teased further but he didn't want to piss Pitch off to much...He didn't want this punishment of his to end too soon.
Showing off his experience, Jack ran his tongue over the length and traced the soft skin. He could tell Pitch was in no mood for playing from the way his muscles tensed and without any warning Jack allowed the entire organ to slide in between his lips. A very satisfying, louder hiss drifted to his ears like a sweet melody and Pitch's fingers tangled in the strands of his hair, guiding him and dictating his speed.
Jack allowed Pitch to control him like a puppet while he concentrated on bringing never-before-experienced pleasure to him. He swiped his tongue around the member with every thrust and hollowed his cheeks, applying some suction to the act. Just when Pitch began to relax, making the mistake of thinking this was as good as it got, Jack moaned, sending vibrations crawling through his entire nervous system.
Jack was ready when Pitch came, having felt the tensing of the muscles and the way the fingers pulled at his hair with a new desperation. He tried to pull back just before the seed coated his tongue but Pitch held him in place, forcing him to swallow or risk choking. He didn't really mind and found the older man's natural aroma quite nice.
He figured the punishment was over but he couldn't be more wrong and when Pitch grasped his arm and pulled him to his feet, Jack noticed the golden eyes were dilated enough they almost looked black. It shook his entire frame. Pitch kissed him in that same dominating way as before but this time it was more urgent. Jack responded eagerly, opening his mouth and letting the other tongue twist around his. He wondered if Pitch tasted himself and if he liked it. Since the kiss only got more passionate he assumed the answer was yes.
This time he whined again when Pitch broke their lips apart but the crescent moon grin on the man's face promised something so much better. When Jack was turned around and pushed against the desk, so that Pitch had a clear view of his back, he had a chance to sate his curiosity about the rest of the class. It seemed Pitch's little 'punishment' acted like the most affective aphrodisiac. The majority of the guys were having some fun of their own with each other. Some opted to drink and cheer them on. Jack even caught mention of a bet cantered on which one would come first, Jack or Pitch.
Jack forgot the audience as quickly as he remembered it when Pitch pushed the first finger in. He moaned wantonly and grasped at the edge of the desk, seeking a physical anchor to sanity. The digit was already slicked with something which made the intrusion painless and quick. Jack spread his legs even further apart, making more room for the other man. He gave another moan when Pitch's free hand ran over the skin of his back and his lips attacked his shoulder blades. The hoodie was bunched up to reveal as much of the body under it as possible. The trousers were long gone, having been discarded while Jack was distracted by the sensual scene before him.
He closed his eyes and threw his head back in ecstasy when a further two fingers joined the first, together finding that one spot inside him which had his hips bucking into the hand as if electrified. Pitch kissed the nape of his neck and traced the cartilage of his ear, the hot breath making him tremble. The fingers didn't slow their thrusting and Pitch reached for Jack's chin, twisting his head so their tongues met in a dance as old as time.
For the first time it was Jack who pulled away, driven by the need to gasp when Pitch drove his entire length in with one powerful roll of his hips. The speed was punishing from the start but judging by the loud moans and pleas Jack was making it was more of a reward. Jack's snow white hair fell across his eyes like a curtain, swaying violently from side to side with the hectic motions. Fresh perspiration cascaded down his frame and he called Pitch's name like a mantra.
Jack's gaze focused for a second and he saw that the rest of the guys were all watching him, their eyes dark with hunger. They resembled a pack of dogs ready to tear into meat. Jack's eyes snapped closed as the pleasure pooled inside him, becoming intense enough to hurt. The desk rattled and shook. Jack had to hold onto the rim or the power of Pitch's thrusts would have sent him over the edge. He couldn't remember sex having ever felt this amazing and Jack arched his spine and neck in a beautiful display of dexterity, aligning his back with Pitch's chest.
He felt Pitch's hand move across his skin, squeezing his angular hip and coiling around his stomach. He felt the other's lips onto his throat, biting into his flesh. Pitch moved to Jack's ear and whispered one word.
'Jack...' His own name leaving the thin lips, mingled with open lust and desire, proved to be the final push and Jack shuddered, his entire body shaking as he came violently. Violently enough he slumped against the other, becoming limp in his arms while Pitch continued to rut a few more times inside him, searching to reach his own high. Jack moaned softly with every thrust, the breath leaving his body without his consent.
He felt boneless and satisfied enough to drift into a calm sleep. His eyelids threatened to close but then Pitch was finally pushed off the proverbial cliff and he felt the warm substance trail down his thigh. Pitch managed to pull out at the very last second. He kissed Jack's pale shoulder and neck, feeling the pulse against his lips as blood rushed to oxygenise the spent body. In all honestly this hadn't been the exact 'punishment' he'd had in mind but he couldn't complain.
'Class dismissed.' He didn't have to glare at the others for them to rush out into the hallways, fifteen minutes early. They were all probably eager to do some 'punishing' of their own...
Pitch noticed Jack becoming heavier in his arms and one quick glance informed him the boy was fast asleep. He had to admit he'd been a bit more vigorous than he's intended but something about Jack Frost just appealed to him in a very primal way. He placed Jack carefully across the desk, re-dressing him in the process, before taking care of his own dishevelled appearance.
Pitch glanced over Jack and grinned widely. The boy looked nothing like the troublemaker he was when under the spell of sweet dreams. He looked as innocent as a fresh coating of snow, just before it reached the dirty earth and became soiled.
He reached for a sheet of paper and scribbled his address, folded it carefully, and slipped it inside Jack's hoodie pocket. He was certain the student would pay him a visit before the week was over...
Outside, the snow continued to fall.