This fic takes place a year or so after the end of Thou Art To Me a Delicious Torment, at a point when Jefferson and Killian have an established, safe, and consensual d/s relationship. I didn't include a lot of backstory because I want this to also work as a stand-alone MadHook piece. Enjoy!
Killian doesn't know what's going on. He isn't in bed anymore, curled up next to Jefferson like had had been when they'd drifted off together after a fairly uneventful night of lazy kisses and not much else.
It's dark. No, his eyes are covered by a blindfold. It's soft—probably one of Jefferson's silk scarves. His mouth is full of cloth, and his mouth is covered by what seems to be tape. He's naked, but that's not much of a surprise. That's how he fell asleep.
Instead of being lazily curled up next to his lover, he's kneeling on what feels like plush carpet. Breathing in, he realizes that he's in their living room. Killian makes a move to get up, and realizes that he can't.
His ankles are bound to what he quickly realizes is the spreader bar that arrived in the mail the day before. They haven't used it yet. Wrists down under him, they're taped (to account for his missing hand) and cuffed to his ankles.
The result is that the pirate captain has his face to the floor, with his bare ass in the air. Discontent sets in, and he tries to call out Jefferson's name, but his voice is muffled.
Footsteps.
He almost panics, but then familiar hands are in his face, and the voice that he craves is speaking.
"Don't worry, Killian. It's all part of the game."
One of Jefferson's hands slides down his back, and the hatter's touch light until his fingers meet Killian's hole.
"My, my, but this won't do." He purrs. "I'm going to have to get your hole good and ready for our guests."
Guests? Killian tries to object, but only muffled sounds that must sound somewhat like moans escape through his gagged mouth.
"I was surprised when you suggested this, but I must admit…it was one of your better ideas."
Killian doesn't remember telling Jefferson anything, and he's confused, but there's something in the confidence of his lover that stops him from struggling outright. That, and Jefferson's wet fingers (there is lube at hand, apparently) rubbing over his hole.
That solicits a real moan. He leans back as a finger pushes in, and realizes that he's already getting hard. He doesn't know what Jefferson's talking about, but as his lover adds more lube and more fingers, it doesn't matter.
"I wish that you could see yourself." Jefferson muses, finger-fucking Killian with four digits. The pirate rocks back against him. "Maybe at the very least I'll take out the gag later so that I can hear the pretty noises that you're making for a few minutes before I shove my cock down your throat."
That does it. Killian is rock hard, and he'd come if Jefferson would just touch hi—oh, there it is. Jefferson's slick hand moves down to give his cock a few quick pumps. Killian squeezes his eyes shut and gets ready, and then...and then Jefferson rolls a cock-ring onto his erection, effectively cutting him off from an orgasm.
He practically howls into the tape covering his mouth. Jefferson only laughs, and presses a gentle kiss to the small of his back. A moment later there's something hard but slick at his hole.
Once the plug (it's thicker than the one that they usually use—Killian wonders where it came from) is in place, Jefferson gives his ass a slap.
"Such a good boy, and we haven't even started."
The doorbell rings, and Killian hears a low and dangerous chuckle at the back of Jefferson's throat.
"Our company is here." He announces, giving the plug in Killian's ass a tug, earning a muffled squeal. "I can't wait to see the look on your face when I take off the blindfold. I've seen how happy you get with just my cock—how are you going to react with four of us? You only have so many holes, after all."
Killian tenses. Four? Four what?
He hears Jefferson walk away and open the door. A series of low voices greet him, and a few moments later he's aware that they're not alone.
"Yours for the taking, boys." Jefferson announces, and is greeted with noises of approval. "Why don't you go first?" He adds, and Killian can see in his mind's eye how Jefferson looks playing the gracious host. He wonders what his lover is wearing—is he naked? Probably not. Jefferson is likely decked out in one of his more expensive getups. He's always liked showing off.
Someone settles behind him. There are hands on his ass-cheeks, spreading him wide open for the world to see. It's not Jefferson.
Despite the potential for callouses that come with making hats and maps, Jefferson keeps his hands impeccably smooth and well-maintained. The fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his ass are rough, and it's enough to make him moan through the spit-soaked fabric in his mouth.
Fingers tug at the plug in his ass, and he pulls back as best he can to assist. It comes out with a wet noise, and his hole is left open, pink, and uncomfortably empty. When he feels a cock rubbing against his needy flesh (again, he can tell that it's not his lover) it's all he can do not to slam his hips back and take it to the hilt.
The man behind him has an iron grip on his hips, and isn't letting him participate as he languidly thrusts against him, movements too slow and gentle. Killian doesn't want that. He wants someone to fuck him so hard and so fast that instead of seeing nothing he's seeing stars.
He still can't come, and it's torture.
"So?" Jefferson's voice interrupts the haze of lust around Killian's thoughts. He feels his lover's fingers gently move through his hair. "How does this compare to your princess?"
"It's not bad." A kind voice admits with a chuckle, and Killian recognizes that it's David fucking him. The pirate doesn't know how Jefferson knows that he's wanted this—thought about it, masturbated to it—often in the past, but he's pleased.
An eager groan filters in, and Killian wonders who else Jefferson has invited into their home.
"What do you say? Should I let someone use his other hole?" Jefferson asks sweetly. A chorus of enthusiastic yesses from what sounds like three men, including David, is his response. Gently taking Killian's chin in one hand, Jefferson grips the take with the other and tears it off in one fluid motion. He pulls out the rag in his mouth a moment later.
"Be a good boy, now." Jefferson whispers, leaning down and whispering in his ear while offering gentle caresses to his jaw and shoulders. "Be a good little slut for me, and maybe I'll let you come after everyone's had their way with you."
Killian whimpers, and finds his voice.
"I will." The pirate promises, and he can practically hear Jefferson smile.
"Good boy." He murmurs, and the praise sends pleasure from Killian's head to his toes.
Jefferson moves out of the way, and a new body settles in front of him. There's a cock at his mouth. Killian parts his lips obediently, and his mouth is filled. The man, whoever he is, doesn't taste like Jefferson. He's quite a bit bigger, too, and it's difficult not to start choking.
Soon enough he's rocking back and forth between the two men, spit running down his chin as he gags on the enormous cock in his mouth. Charming's thrusts are more vigorous now as he approaches a climax.
"I can only imagine that Regina never lets you use her mouth like that." Jefferson observes, and one of the heartiest laughs Killian has ever heard responds. It's Robin Hood, he realizes, who is shoving his cock down his throat
"You look so, so pretty." Jefferson sighs, giving Killian's tortured dick a few jerks. "Letting us use you like a whore—I only wish that there were more friends I could invite over. I wish that we could use you all night, until you're absolutely covered in filth. Would you like that?"
Killian moans around Robin's cock. A few moments later, David's thrusts crescendo in what has to be his orgasm. As he pulls out, Killian feels a little bit of prince's cum trickle out of his hole. He wants to beg Jefferson—anyone—to fuck him, to fill him up again, but with Robin still abusing his mouth he can only groan in frustration.
As if reading his thoughts, the bandit pulls out and Killian is free to articulate.
"Please, please please…" He begs, tears in his eyes behind the scarf tied over his eyes.
"Please what?" Jefferson sniggers. "Do you want Robin to move, darling? Shove that big, fat cock of his up your ass so hard that you can't walk for a week?"
"Yes!" Killian responds immediately, shoving his ass up as much as he can. "Yes!"
"We might as well oblige you. You've been behaving so well, after all…"
He feels Robin's erection against his ass a few moments later. It takes a few gentle pushes to get in—he really is that much bigger than Charming—but soon enough Robin is driving into him as hard as he can without doing damage.
Killian forgets about shame, and is practically crying into the carpet. He doesn't care where he is or who he's with (as long as Jefferson is there, Jefferson always has to be there) as long as someone keeps fucking him. It feels so good.
"Slut." A very familiar cock rubs against his lips, and Killian takes his lover down his throat eagerly. "You're such a dirty little thing. I could have all of the men in Storybrooke take you, and you still wouldn't be satisfied."
When he comes, Robin's load, like is cock, is bigger than David's.
"You're so full of cum, but I doubt you'd have it any other way." Jefferson mocks him, and Killian eats it right up just like he's sucking his cock. "Maybe I should keep you like this long after they leave—your ass up so that you're nice and full long after I've gone to bed. Would you like that?"
Killian whimpers around Jefferson's cock, wishing that he could say that yes, yes he does want that.
"I have one more guest who wants to have his way with you, Killian. Would you like to see him?" Jefferson pulls out of Killian's mouth, and the pirate nods enthusiastically. The hatter pulls the scarf off of his eyes, and he blinks rapidly to adjust to the light of the room.
Someone is rubbing against his hole again. Curious, the pirate looks over his shoulder to see who it is, only to start violently pulling away as he recognizes Mr. Gold.
"Jefferson, No—" Killian starts to say, but then the man that he's spent centuries trying to kill is pounding into him just like he wants, harder and more skillfully than either of the men before him fucked him. Instead of objecting, Killian is sobbing with pleasure into the carpet, the denial of his orgasm more than he could take.
"Is this what you really want, dearie?" It's the imp's voice, not that of Storybrooke's resident pawnbroker, that comes out. "Is this what you want from me?"
He feels Jefferson's gentle fingers run through his hair, and Killian Jones wakes with a start in bed. Instead of being bound on the floor being fucked mercilessly by Rumpelstiltskin, he's safe in bed with his lover's arms around him, just like he fell asleep.
His heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest. It was all a dream?
"It looked like you were having quite the dream…" Jefferson nuzzles the back of his neck, and reaches down to trail his fingers over his lover's erection. "But I thought that this was a bit much to take care of all by your lonesome."
Killian nearly laughs at the irony, but is ultimately more concerned with how good Jefferson's gentle words sound after the intensity of his dream. He can still feel the ghosts of unfamiliar hands on him. It only makes him harder.
"Fuck me." He whispers, turning to Jefferson.
"Now?" Jefferson cocks an eyebrow. "Killian it's three in the morning—I only woke up because you were moving around so much."
"Now." Killian almost whines, pulling Jefferson on top of him and wondering just how much of his dream they can re-enact by morning.