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The Tale of Jack	By : DancingGrimm Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Fairy Tales Views: 18075 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the original story of Jack and the Beanstalk and claim no rights to that story or any aspects of the related fandom. I am making no money from the production of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
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- 5
Three days of sneaking later, Jack had managed to make a dent in their debts, or at least he thought he had. Who knew what his mama was hiding from him in her attempts to protect him, but at least he was getting somewhere. He'd taken cash into the bank to pay off some money from a few accounts, not so much that Mama would immediately notice, however. Lucky that she had a bad memory for numbers. He'd also paid off the money they owed the plumber, and to the carpenter from when the door got broken. He'd even managed to slip a little money into her purse a few times, which had confused her, but at least it had helped to calm her down a little.
The only trouble was, he was almost out of cash, or at least the coin cash. He was still working, but had cut back a little on how much time he spent on it, as he'd gone back to hunting for jobs. Almost got his heart broken the day before, when he'd seen a 'help wanted' sign in the window of the veterinary surgery over on Brook Street. When he'd gone in to ask though, he'd been told it was for a nurse. He was nowhere near qualified, probably never would be. The guy in charge, Dr Prince, had been really nice though. He'd come out of the consulting room holding a chinchilla while Jack was waiting at the front desk, and when he saw how interested he was in the little creature, he cheerfully let him hold it. It made him feel kind of like a kid being given a lollipop at the dentist, but it was a nice gesture. Soft.
Still, drove it home how poor his chances were.
He was in the library going through the newspapers, looking for a crumb, wondering if he could make it to the jeweller's that afternoon to sell the rest of the coins, when a flash of bright colour outside the window caught his eye.
Green. Like, a whole suit of it.
The lady behind the circulation desk gave him a weird look as he dashed past for the exit, but he was outside before she had a chance to say anything, scanning the street in both directions until he spotted the man in the green suit disappearing around the corner of the shoe store. Jack broke into a run, charging noisily down the thankfully quiet mid-afternoon street, got around the corner of the store to find...
Nothing. A little alley, a couple of trash cans, some squashed old shoe boxes...no man in green.
Pissed off, Jack aimed a kick at the nearest pile of boxes, flipping the top few into the air in a little arc. Damn man in green was the reason all of this had started, and now...
Okay, he wasn't the start of this, but it was because of him that Jack had lost the car...but also because of him that Finn had given him the coins, which turned out to be worth much more...and because of him that he'd met Finn...
Still, he was fucking annoying, practically leading him up that tree, and now he didn't know what the hell to do, and he couldn't...
Actually, could he?
It occurred to him for the first time that he'd never even tried to go back up the tree. Instantly, he felt horribly guilty. Who knew how long Finn had been up there with no company whatsoever, and even though he'd promised to try and find a way back, Jack hadn't even tried to take that path again.
Money problems could wait, for a little while at least. Jack set off for the road into the woods.
*
The trail was the same as last time; one minute nothing at all on either side of the path, and then a little strip of flat earth and dappled light. Jack walked along feeling strangely tense given that he already knew what to expect, but...
What if the tree wasn't there?
Or wasn't climbable?
Or something had happened to it...
And then there it was, towering over the forest, the flat steps around its trunk looking striking against the bark.
The climb, this time, was calmer than the last. Jack knew how to set his feet on the steps without slipping and how to slide his palm against the bark, hard enough to steady himself but not so hard it grazed his hand. Once again there was that strange drifting feeling as he rose through the sky, and before he knew it, his feet were on solid ground again and the magnificent tree was a gnarled old twist of branches at his back.
It had seemed too easy, almost, but then he had very little precedent for the situation.
He squinted his eyes as he emerged from the swirl of cloud into the strong sunlight, then felt a smile spread across his face as he spotted Finn. The huge man was kneeling in among the rows of corn shoots, carefully picking strands of weed out of the soil. The wrapped layers of his clothing bared one shoulder, and his skin shone dully in the sun.
“Finn!” Jack called, half expecting to be stampeded at and swept off his feet.
Finn didn't move
“Hey! Finn! Fiiiiiiiinn!”
Then Jack realised; Perspective was tricky when one was trying to get the attention of a giant man, but Finn had to be at least half a mile away, maybe more.
“Shit.”
Jack set off across the field, the chunks of dense soil that lay underfoot threatening to turn his ankle or land him on his ass at every other step. At least the corn stalks shaded him as he went along, and at every third row he stopped to yell out Finn's name and wave his arms about, just in case that would help.
Twelve yells later, and Finn turned his head towards Jack at the sound of his shout, and Jack's breath left his lungs as he saw Finn's warm smile for the first time in too damn long.
Had it really only been a few days?
He stayed put as Finn hauled himself to his feet and strode over to where Jack stood, making grains of soil jump and shudder with each footstep. Jack was amazed for a moment at how peaceful and safe he felt, as huge, coarse-skinned hands reached down and scooped him up, and then he was being lifted up for what felt like miles, and Finn's smiling face was just a few feet from his own.
“Hello little Jack. I've missed you.”
“Me too. I'm so happy to see you again, Finn.”
“Has it been the same amount of time for you? Since you were last here, I mean?” Finn reached down and picked him up, at ease and gentle.
“I dunno. It was...four days ago. How about for you?”
Finn nodded, a mild expression of relief on his face. “Same. I don't know why I was worried about that. Specifically.”
“I don't blame you. The world's been pretty weird to you.”
Finn opened the door to his house and stepped inside, the cool of the interior pleasantly refreshing after the oppressive heat outside. Finn looked around briefly, seemingly to figure out where to put Jack down. Not especially fond of the table, Jack leaned out from his perch in the crook of Finn's arm and looked around; there wasn't really much in there. Choices seemed to be the table, the chair, the cabinet, the rim of the bathtub or the top of the stove.
Or the bed.
Well, they'd technically had sex on a table already, so asking to sit on Finn's bed probably wasn't that forward. He patted a hand against Finn's chest to get his attention and pointed. “Can I sit over there?”
Finn looked surprised for a moment. “Certainly.” Jack wondered if the little touch of red he'd seen on Finn's cheeks as he replied had been his own hopeful imagination. Finn crossed the cavernous room in two steps and leaned down to reverently place Jack on the bed, in the centre of the mattress. Jack was peripherally aware that he barely made a dent in the lumpy mattress, but he didn't care. The sheets he sat on were thick as carpet and rough as hell, and he bounced happily for a little while. Finn crouched down next to the bed for a moment, his face a picture of happiness that made Jack's lungs feel a few sizes too small, then he turned away to the cabinet.
Jack looked around the room again. He guessed it was a little earlier in the day than the last time he'd visited, from the way the light was slanting into the room. The table bore a large bowl, the one he'd swam in last time, and a bundle of rough cloth with what looked like a knife...no, a razor, lying on top of it. Next to the door was a rickety looking basket, half full of apples. Apart from that, all was as it had been before.
Four days.
Finn returned, kneeling next to the bed this time, and seemingly making himself comfortable there. He set a plate down next to Jack, then handed him a little slice of peach, as carefully and delicately cut as the apple, last time. Jack accepted it, smiling, and found himself giggling as the juice ran down to his wrists.
“So, what of the world since you were last here, Jack?” Finn asked, between bites of his peach.
Jack knew right away what he was asking about.
“Well, the coins were a huge help, thanks. It turned out they were worth a lot of money, so I sold them to a guy who's going to sell them to a lady who...well, she works at a museum. I don't know if she's the boss of coins there or something. I managed to get us into a better place, financially, though we aren't quite back in the black yet.”
“I'm glad it helped. “ Finn replied, and Jack could feel that he really was pleased. “What about everything else? Any news on your Mother?”
“Nothing really. Which in itself is good news. She's pretty stable really, not much chance of her getting any worse. But she doesn't really get any better.”
“At least that's something,” Finn replied, a little weakly.
“I, uh, took the opportunity of having some cash on hand to look for a real job,” Jack told him, feeling sheepish. “I haven't had any luck so far though. I'm starting to think I'll have to look further afield or something. Maybe even...I dunno. I don't want to have to leave Eastgate.”
“You'll find something. Don't worry,” Finn told him kindly, and the way he said it, Jack could almost believe him.
“I didn't stop yet. You know, turning tricks. But I managed to get rid of one guy who always really got under my skin. He paid me a lot, but I hated him.”
“But he's not going to bother you any more?”
“Well, I can only hope not. He still lives in town though, so he might turn up again. Hope not.” With just that thought, his good mood thinned. He pushed the last bite of the peach into his mouth and tried to wipe the juice off his chin with his sticky hand. Finn was silent, unmoving, while he did so. After a small space of time though, he reached out and settled his hand on the sheets next to Jack, rubbing the side of his thumb up and down Jack's back a little. God, it felt so nice.
“What did this guy do that was so bad?”
“It was...it started a few years ago. It's not a nice story.”
“Tell me anyway, hm? It'll do you good.”
And Jack couldn't even look up at Finn's face, because he knew the tender expression that would be there, and knew that it would do him in.
And so he told the whole unpleasant tale, about how Mr Golightly had overheard his clumsy, misunderstood admission of affection for another student, years ago. How that teacher, known by the whole town to be so respectable and kindly, warned the other students and their families that Jack was gay and that he'd been unreasonably pursuing other boys in the school, making him out to be some kind of sexual predator. The angry glares and frightened glances of his fellow students, of the adults he passed in the street...
All this on top of his father's death, and then his Mama getting ill. And he'd been the one it had fallen on to make ends meet, nobody else to do it.
So he'd left school and sold himself. To the first person who was asked him to, the person who'd even put the idea in his head, if he was honest.
Mr Golightly.
His hands were clenched in the rough sheets by the time he finished his explanation. Finn's thumb had stopped rubbing his back, but the warmth of it was settled at the base of his spine, comfortably weighty.
“I told him I wasn't gonna go with him again...but I don't know if he'll listen. He's a little weird. It scares me.”
“Can you defend yourself from him?” Finn asked.
“Doubt it. I got in a fight once in my entire life, and the only reason I didn't lose outright was because the other guy was drunk and fell on his ass trying to take a swing at me.”
He'd half expected to hear a laugh at that, but when he finally looked up at Finn's face, it was tense and worried.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “It's like last time all over again. I turn up and unload all my crap on you, then come on to you.”
“It's okay, I don't mind. I'd rather have you up here getting your troubles out of your system than anyone else I've ever met. Even if they brought hot-dogs and beer.”
That actually made Jack chuckle a little bit, and he wiped at his face with his hands. Finn picked him up again and propped him carefully against his chest, then turned to sit down on the bed, his shoulders leaning against the wall behind it, and his legs stretched out on the sheets.
Jack felt like a little weight had been lifted from him; sure, soon he'd have to go back down the tree and deal with Mr Golightly and all his other problems, but right now, snuggled against Finn's warm chest, he felt so serene. So safe.
“Promise me something,” Finn said in a low serious voice that seemed to rumble right into Jack's skeleton.
“What?”
“Don't...don't try to be brave, okay? If he comes to give you trouble. Just...run, or hide behind somebody else or something. Will you do that?”
Jack twisted his upper body so he could look up at Finn's face, and nodded. “Yeah, that was more or less my plan anyway.”
“Good. That guy sounds like scum, Jackie. I don't want him near you. I wish I could come and take care of him.”
Jack's imagination was suddenly overwhelmed by a mental image of Mr Golightly going squish like a cockroach under Finn's foot, and his good mood was complete.
“I wish you could too,” he promised, smiling up at Finn. “But for the time being, I'll be really careful of him, I promise you. Now, I think I said something earlier about coming on to you?”
“You sure you want to little Jack? Not that I don't, but I'd not have you thinking that I want to take advantage of you.”
So sweet! “I'm sure, really.” Finn was about the only person he wouldn't mind taking advantage of him.
“Well then, what would you like to do? Like last time?”
“Yes please,” Jack said, kneeling up in the little valley between Finn's chest and forearm to take off his t-shirt. “But...would you mind getting naked this time? Please?”
“I was naked last time too. In fact I seem to remember you having a pretty good look,” Finn replied, grinning. He carefully took Jack's shirt and laid it on the pillow, then let Jack put his shoes into his palm, one at a time.
“I know, but I didn't really see you until afterwards.” Finn was quiet while Jack got the rest of his clothes off, and simply held out his hand for Jack's pants and underwear, to put them with his shoes.
“You're sure Jack?”
“Huh? About you being naked?”
“...yes. I don't wanna...” he sighed, and put Jack down on the sheets. Jack felt himself frown.
“You don't want to scare me, is that it?” he asked.
Finn said nothing but the caught out expression on his face told Jack he'd got it on the nose.
“You don't scare me,” Jack said, reaching out to pat Finn's nearby forearm in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “S'okay.”
“...okay,” Finn replied.
It took him seconds to undress, literally. Just grabbed a tuck of fabric behind his shoulder and pulled and whoosh; naked giant guy.
Naked giant...yeah.
Dick.
And it was a good thing that Jack wasn't the type to get worried about being smaller than a guy he was having sex with because, seriously, that was just ridiculous.
“See? I thought it'd scare you,” Finn mumbled and reached for a sheet to pull around himself.
“Don't you dare!” Jack replied, grabbing onto Finn's wrist and clambering up onto the back of his hand. “And I'm not scared. I just...hadn't really considered that...”
“That it'd be as big as you?”
“Don't flatter yourself, man. I'm still taller,” Jack replied, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of what he'd just said.
Finn squinted down at himself. “You think?”
“Yes!” Jack replied, hearing the growing laughter in his and Finn's voices both. He grabbed onto Finn's forearm and held tight. “Lift me onto your lap. I'll prove it.”
Grinning, Finn carefully raised his hand, Jack attached, and shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his shoulders still leaned back against the wall. Jack slid off his hand until his feet were placed on the firm, warm flesh of Finn's thigh, the sparse, thick hairs there tickling at his soles. Jesus he was warm.
His own erection hadn't calmed down at all, despite the giggling and the weird discussion at hand.
Standing on Finn's warm thigh and he could pretty much see it all from here; his hard, thick cock, his balls, the scratchy bush of his pubic hair...and he could look up and see his face, awkward and embarrassed but smiling.
And no way was it actually taller than he was, but it was still really, really fucking big in a way that just defied Jack's ability to think. The only thing that kept running through his mind was that there were probably millions of men and women out in the world who got themselves off with fantasies about something almost exactly like this.
But he was here, and he was never this damn lucky. Never.
“Does it bug you, me standing on you like this?”
“No, you're light.”
“Kay,” said Jack, and went exploring.
Finn's thighs were tight skin over firm, hard-working muscle, which was just as well for Jack, because if he'd been flabby it would have been impossible to do what he was doing.
Which was walking up Finn's leg towards his groin.
Which he could hardly believe he was doing.
Finn just sitting, watching him and smiling, letting him do what he wanted to.
Leaning back further to make it easier for Jack to get close and then...
He seemed really surprised when Jack put his arms around it, even though Jack thought it pretty obvious that that's what he was going to do.
“Jack, you don't...uh...”
“No, let me. S'okay.”
And it was. Really. He was turned on and warm and happy. And yeah, it was weird and probably meant he had some kind of mental issue, but it felt good to hold onto Finn's cock like that.
The air smelled so strongly of musk that it made his head swim, but he still pressed his chest and his pelvis up against the side of Finn's shaft and felt the hard flesh in the circle of his arms, felt the pulse of blood underneath the skin, ran his hands around the thick folds of his foreskin and over the springy flesh of the tip. He was vaguely aware of Finn's hand, cupped behind him in case he fell, and that...
If he could just stay there...
“I dunno what to do with you,” he admitted. “I want...I want to make you come but, dunno how to...”
“It's alright,” Finn replied in that soothing way he had. “Here.”
He lifted Jack again, peeling him gently away from his prize, then lay back on the bed making the wooden frame creak. Jack ended up propped on his chest, between the pads of his pectorals, warm in the rope-like curls of his chest hair. Finn's hand remained cupped over his back.
“Okay like this?”
“Sure. I'm not too heavy?”
“You're light as a feather, don't worry.”
“Cool,” murmured Jack, and now it was just time to enjoy himself, nothing going on in his head but the feel of his hand around his own cock, and the warmth and solidity of Finn's body beneath him. He could feel Finn's body rock slightly as he worked at himself, a good feeling. Holding himself in his fist, he rolled until his weight was on his hand and his cock, moving his hips and pressing into the slight yield of Finn's flesh.
Quiet and cosy and so good, surrounded by happy giant man.
So good to do it gentle and soft, feeling every motion Finn made and knowing he was enjoying it just the same.
It would be so good...so good if he could do this for real...if he could have Finn inside him...
He curled up against Finn's chest and shuddered as he came, felt Finn tremble under him a few moments later, and watched his handsome face as his eyes fluttered closed.
They smiled goofily at each other. Finn lifted his hand away from Jack's back and replaced it with a corner of the blanket, then licked what must have been a splash of his own semen off the back of his hand.
Jack snuggled up to him, feeling wonderful. Really though, he told himself, he shouldn't stay there too long. In a couple of minutes he should get up and start psyching himself up to face the rest of the day.
A few seconds after this thought passed through his mind, he was fast asleep.
*
“This is corn, and that over there is carrots, or at least it's going to be.”
Jack nodded and turned in Finn's grasp to look back towards the house. “And over there?”
“Fallow at the moment, but I've got some pumpkin seeds from last year that I'm going to plant. You want to see the fruit trees?”
“Sure.”
They set off across the fields, Jack rocked by Finn's long, lumbering stride. They'd woken up together about an hour ago and Finn had let Jack take a bath in the bowl again, laughing happily as he watched Jack sculpt his wet hair into horns and a mohawk. Jack had lingered in the water, torn between wanting to go back and make things right and just hide out here forever. Finn seemed to sense this, and offered him a way to stay for a little longer with the offer of a tour of his 'farm'.
They'd passed the house now, heading for a far field with a well spread collection of smallish trees, Jack perched comfortably in the crook of Finn's arm, when Finn paused and turned his head.
“You hear something?” Jack asked.
“Did I tell you about Goldie?” Finn replied.
“Uh...”
“The goose. I...named her Goldie,” Finn explained sheepishly.
Jack quietly adored him. “You mentioned her, yeah. It's a cool name.”
“I just heard her honking. Shall we go look for her?”
Jack nodded and Finn set off for a patch of lush grass in a little hollow in-amongst the scrub. He walked deliberately and quietly, placing his feet with care, all the while calling softly, “Goldiegoldiegoldie...here I am little Goldie, don't be scared...”
Jack craned his neck to see as Finn crouched and leaned over the hollow. A squawk of surprise rose up from below, and then a little white and brown goose appeared out of the grass, flapping and hissing.
“Stop cussing now,” Finn told it sternly. “There's no way you can say you didn't hear me coming.”
The goose calmed down, or at least stopped flapping. “You wanna say hi?” Finn asked softly, and it took Jack a moment to realise that he was addressing him and not the goose.
“Sure she won't nip me?”
“I'm sure. She usually just pecks around this bit of the farm. She's pretty friendly.”
“Okay.” Finn carefully lowered Jack onto the ground and let him hang onto his thumb until he'd found his feet on the soft ground.
He was taken aback, for just a moment, to realise that the goose was...goose sized. She was staring curiously at him from the bottom of the hollow, apparently quite at ease with his sudden appearance, despite her earlier snit. He walked carefully down the slope, until they were just a few metres away from each other, both in-among the huge, floppy blades of grass that rose tall as trees from the ground.
“Hey little goose,” he said quietly to her as he approached. “Hey little Goldie goose. I'm Jack.”
He wondered I Finn ever talked to her when he felt lonely. Yeah he probably did.
She cocked his head to look at him, then started edging towards him, neck stretched out and mouth slightly open. Not the posture of a relaxed goose. He stayed still and let her approach, stayed still while she cautiously explored around him. Finally she seemed to settle.
“See if she'll let you pet her,” Finn suggested. “She lets me pick her up.”
Jack nodded and stretched one hand out towards her, slowly, slowly, and she stayed still, unconcerned with his antics now she'd decided what he was.
And then his hand was flat on her back, feeling the yielding soft-coarseness of her feathers. White with broad stripes of mottled brown, barn owl colours, with big yellow feet.
“She's sweet,” he told Finn. “I love animals.”
Finn, kindly soul that he was, left him there for goodness know how long, sitting quietly on the ground while Jack hung out with the goose. She had a nice presence, chilled out and amiable, more like a dog than a bird as far as companionship was concerned. At least in Jack's experience.
Of course, his experience was getting chased by Mr McElgar's chickens...
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, chilling with the goose, but by the time he finally stood and brushed off his backside, he was starting to get cold. Realising that his attention had shifted to other things, Goldie waddled off into the grass once again. Jack turned to Finn and, smiling broadly, reached up his arms to be picked up.
“Did you say the man in green brought her?” he asked, as Finn carried him back to the house.
“Yeah. I'd just find some odd thing he'd left sometimes, like a cooking pot or some seeds somewhere...then one day there's suddenly this goose there, with a little note stuck in her crate with her, barely big enough for me to read. Said that I was to take good care of her, and if she was happy enough, she'd lay a lucky egg.”
“Seriously? A lucky egg?”
“Yup. Don't really know what he meant, but whenever she laid an egg I'd try and pick it up and burst it. She stashes them somewhere now. Every now and then I'll step on a little bunch of 'em and she'll go off on me.”
Jack chuckled. They were back on the path in front of the house now, and Finn paused.
“Do...you wanna-”
“Not really, I don't want to go back. I wish I could bring my Mama up here and just hide out. But I have to go.” He felt wretchedly sad, as Finn lifted him up and planted a kiss on the top of his head that made his hair slick. Jack flung his arms out and ended up hugging Finn's chin, which made them both smile just a little.
Finn carried him down to the tree, and peered at it as he set Jack down, staring through the suddenly rising mist to try and see the exit.
“Darn...” he murmured cryptically, but Jack felt it would be cruel to ask him if he could see it.
“Can I come and see you again?” he asked, then felt guilty for it.
“Of course you can,” Finn replied caressingly. “Come back whenever you can.”
Jack nodded, no way he could speak, not when his voice was choked with sudden tears.
Finn waved to him as he walked into the mist, and then Jack's feet found the top step and he was on his way back home.
*
It was sunny still when he reached the bottom, and he checked his watch; only about half an hour gone since he'd left the town. It was getting on for late afternoon now though, and there was little point to going after jobs again so late. Places would be closing down for the day.
The path back to his home was pleasantly shaded for most of the route by the high hedges edging Mr McElgar's and Mr Branford's farms and he made a good pace, feeling...maybe not quite happy, but maybe more peaceful than he had earlier.
As he approached the house though, something struck him as wrong; there was a car parked in the driveway, not like their little rust box, but a big smart looking one, with mud splashed up the sides from the tyres.
And he knew that car.
It belonged to Dr Atieno, his Mama's doctor.
Jack ran for the front door, his heart thudding in his chest.
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The Tale of Jack