Author: Joke chapter alert. Not very sexy, but have a laugh.
"Jack?"
"Hm?"
"When did your parents give you... 'the talk?'"
Jack almost choked on the food he was eating. He wiped his mouth, "Where did that come from?"
Elsa was partially distracted by the baby blanket she was knitting. "Oh, I don't know, the baby we're about to have? How kids are always asking where babies come from? I was thinking about when's a good age to tell them."
"I think we've got time." Jack cringed at the thought of telling his own child such details. "When did your parents tell you?"
"Oh, mine didn't. My tutor did that. All she did was say," she recited from memory, giving her tutor a stuck-up voice, "Princess Elsa, when you begin to bleed, it'll happen every month unless you have a child, but don't have children until you get married!" She snorted, "When I asked her if there was anything else, she shoved a book in my face and said everything I needed to know was in the writing. I remember it being veeery detailed."
Jack winced, "I guess that's how most kids learn about it."
"Did you learn about it from a book?" She teased, knowing the answer.
"No," he nervously ran his hand through his hair, "heh, it's different for guys."
"Yes, I'm well aware."
"I mean, at least in my family, we just had to figure it out ourselves."
"So... You figured out how to make a baby by yourself?"
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay, let me explain."
...
During the early stages of puberty, Jack had kept his odd experiences to himself.
Besides the obvious that could be noticed by everyone—getting taller, his voice cracking every other word—he also had to deal with the usual all growing boys did... erections without any real reason and the baffling desire to touch his own sex.
Jack didn't know how to describe the feeling of when he touched himself, but it felt... good? The strangest part of this activity was the sticky white fluid that spurted out of him when it happened. Sometimes he woke up with his pants or bed covered in it. That would happen if he went a while without his "activity" and he would have a dream that would make him feel that way. It was both a blessing and a curse.
But Jack couldn't just have the typical 'growing boy' worries... He also feared what his powers might do if this got out of control. What if in his sleep he woke up to piles of snow in his room—sometimes when he was happy, snow would fall around him without him trying to make it happen.
That was why Jack kept it to himself, aside from the embarrassment.
Then, one horrid day, he got caught.
As it had been his entire life so far, Jack wasn't allowed to leave the house. His father had left for work and his mother was at Sophie's school watching a play they were putting on.
Jack was thirteen. His hormones were raging, and he decided now was the perfect time to get rid of his pent-up energy and save himself the trouble of trying to be secretive about it.
When Jack got into it, he got into it. He lost himself in a fantasy about a girl he didn't even know. Maybe a character from his books he imagined to be beautiful. He was so close, just a little more...
His bedroom door swung open, "Jackson?"
"DAD!" Jack screamed in shock and almost fell off of the bed. He ducked behind the other side of it and frantically looked for his pants. His father had heard the panting and other noises. He'd thought Jack was in pain, but now his son wasn't the only one wishing he could disappear right then.
"Jesus!" He whirled around, "I'm sorry! I—"
"Get out!" Jack never talked to his father in such an angry tone, but he was frightened, ashamed, and frustrated he didn't finish.
"I'm sorry, I'm going, I'm going!" Nicholas grabbed the tools he'd come back to the house for and left.
"Close the door!"
Nicholas had to walk back down the hall and close it before leaving again. After that, Jack couldn't go back to it. He didn't know if he could ever look his father in the eyes again.
It was about thirty seconds later when the door opened again. Nicholas sighed, "Jackson, sit down." He set aside his tools. "We... We need to talk."
...
"And then he pretty much told me how it all worked." Jack's face was as bright red as it had been the day that incident happened. "God," he palmed his face, "I couldn't even look at him the rest of the day. I should've waited until I was in the bath..."
Elsa was cringing for poor Jack. Now all she could imagine was one of them walking in on their own son or daughter in the act and having to sit them down...
"So..." She began, "we're gonna give our kids a book?"
"Definitely."
