Important Author's Note: due to the sexual contents of this fic, this is actually a heavily censured version o3o if you want the full amount of threesome porn, you can read the full story on my AO3 account

Other than that, enjoy!

Darkness. That was the first thing he remembered.

It was dark. And it was hot, and his head felt like someone was drilling a thousand hot iron nails into his skull, one at a time. And something hairy was threatening to smother him.

Pitch grimaced as he tried to open his eyes and instantly regretted it, mainly because that meant getting light in his eyes, which made the iron nails drill in harder. Not just in his head, but in a lot of other places too. Good grief, what in the world had happened last night? Whatever it was, he felt dirty and utterly gross, and the incredibly heavy and hot furry blanket that someone had covered him with didn't help either.

Somehow, he managed to wriggle out from under the blanket, and he gasped when his skin was hit by cooler air along with empty space... right before gravity took over, and he landed on a solid wooden floor with a hard thud! The Boogeyman groaned as the shock from the landing jarred the aching sensation in his head and the rest of his body. As a result, it took him a while before he could muster the strength to lift his head and look around so he could figure out where the hell he was.

Solid wooden floor. Solid wooden bed, with exquisite carvings at that, probably in mahogany. White and red sheets, and on the floor, assorted clothing, including his own black robes that looked like they had been almost torn in half. No problem though, as soon as his head stopped aching, he would make himself a new one. One of the perks of having your clothes made from shadows.

'Not one of the only perks.' Pitch thought to himself. Right now, the coolness of the shadows from the bed felt like a soothing balm from the massive hangover, and allowed him to slowly gather his thoughts.

'Okay. Okay... Big wooden bed. Wooden floor. Not home.' The Boogeyman thought slowly. Eventually, he began to slowly push himself up, so he could at least get a better look at certain things, like the other articles of clothing on the floor. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn't point out what it was, though a jarring ache from his backside did little to help his memory. He grimaced as the pain went in a sharp current from there and up to his skull, making him curl up in a miserable ball for what felt like eternity, but what was probably only a few minutes. Slowly and gingerly, he managed to uncurl himself and sat up, looking around.

There was a smell, a pleasant one at that, of cinnamon and peppermint, that came from a wooden bowl on a nightstand. Pitch squinted at it, and couldn't help but think that there was something familiar about it...

'Concoction that's good for dry hands.' He thought to himself, and then wondered where he knew that from.

The shuffling of a large body, followed by a grumbling snort drew his attention to the bed, mostly because the sound itself was so loud it might as well have been a gunshot, or at least it sounded like that to his hungover hearing. Pitch grimaced as he peered over the edge to see who else was there, and blinked when he saw the familiar massive shape of North, along with... the rabbit?

Why in the name of the Moon had he been in the same bed with those two? Pitch frowned, sitting carefully up against the bed as he tried to think things over.

'One step at a time... There was a party. And you were invited for... who knows what reason.' Pitch rubbed at his temples, grimacing as he tried to concentrate. 'And... there was alcohol. Oh sweet Manny so much alcohol.' He moaned softly, running his hands over his face. When was the last time he had ever gotten so drunk?

He mainly remembered staying in a corner by himself, because no one wanted to interact with him and he didn't want to interact with anyone else either. He had managed to mostly give off a successful vibe of 'bites when provoked', at least until he had managed to drink enough eggnog so that he at least had a pleasant buzz going on.

Still didn't explain- wait. The damn rabbit and Cossack had been at it with one of their arguments again, standing nose to nose as they were about to get into a shouting match about which holiday was better than the others, Christmas or Easter.

And Pitch must have been more than buzzed at this point, because he remembered almost dramatically shoving the two apart and simply declaring that clearly, Halloween was the best holiday, so there!

Naturally, the two had ganged up on him, verbally and...

"Oh hell..." Pitch groaned and slowly curled up on himself, though the jarring ache from his backside prompted him to straighten up again. No wonder he was so damn sore!

It was all coming back to him now. Or some of it anyway. He couldn't for the life of him remember some points, but the three of them had somehow gotten to the bedroom (he idly wondered if anyone had seen them leave together, or if they had somehow gone unnoticed). There had been a blur of angry bites and kisses and drunken laughter, and he recalled North getting frustrated with his robes and just tearing it in half, though Pitch had quickly dispelled his pants lest they suffer the same fate.

And while the Cossack had struggled with his own clothes, Pitch had been grabbed from behind and yanked up into the bed, his back pressed against a furry chest, and Bunnymund kissing his neck with the Pooka's whiskers tickling his skin...

And after that, things had been a considerable blur. He vaguely remembered saying things that were probably supposed to sound clever, but now in what was probably either the early or later morning hours, Pitch grimaced as he rubbed at his temples.

'Note to self. Never, ever go to one of North's parties again.' He thought miserably, before he lay back down on the cool, wooden floor. He'd try and regain his strength, and then see about going home through the shadows. North's bed was unfortunately the kind, that had solid wooden sides going all the way to the floor, so he couldn't go back that way. But as long as the room stayed dark enough...

A sharp snort sounded from the bed at sudden, feeling almost like a gunshot to Pitch's hungover brain, and as he groaned in pain, the large form of North sat up with a grunt.

"Rimsky Korsakov..." He grumbled, squinting sleepily around the room. He blinked when he first caught sight of Bunny, who was still asleep, and then turned and looked over the edge of the bed when he heard a pained noise.

"Pitch?" He asked, his voice sounding gruff from sleep. "...Why are you and Bunny in bedroom?"

Pitch hissed softly. Even though North was speaking in a low tone, it still sounded painful to his hungover head.

"Give it time..." He mumbled. "It'll come back to you."

The Guardian of Wonder squinted in confusion, before he shuffled around, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, while rubbing his head absently. Taking a look over the room, and of the clothes across the floor, and then back at the Boogieman, things finally seemed to click.

"...Sergei Rachmaninoff." He muttered. "Did we-?"

"Bloody hell mate, can't a feller get a decent bit o' rest around here?" Bunny grumbled, before he peered out sleepily from behind North, his ears looking oddly crumbled from sleep. He then grimaced, rubbing at his head.

"Ugh crikey... Th' bloody hell are we doing here, North?"

North had the decency to at least look slightly embarrassed. "It would seem that things got... a bit out of hand last night."

"Understatement of the year, cossack." Pitch grumbled. The sound of shuffling could be heard above him, and a glance showed him that Bunnymund was now peering over the edge of the bed, squinting at him in confusion, before he seemed to realize what they had done last night, with a look of dawning horror on his face.

"Oh bloody hell..." The Pooka groaned, before he flopped face first down on the bed.

Pitch made no comment, planning to stay on the floor... or he did anyway, until North despite his own hangover easily leaned down and picked him up, and in one smooth move had him put back in the bed between them. The Boogeyman managed a startled noise, squirming a bit before the ache in his head made him stop. He moaned, digging his fingers into his hair.

"Uugh, what the hell, North...?" He moaned.

"Is much more comfortable in bed." North said with a grunt. "You both wait here. I will get hangover cure. Will work wonders, I promise."

"I' better not be hair o' the dog, mate." Bunny mumbled miserably. "Doubt I coul' take more."

North managed not to give a too loud snort, while he pulled on his pants and a robe. "I promise, is no such thing. You two rest some more, I will be right back. Will bring breakfast too." He paused in thought, as he tied a knot on the belt for the robe. "Or brunch. Depends on time." And with that, he disappeared out of the door.

Pitch was fully content to just lie and wallow quietly in his own hungover misery, though he started slightly, when he felt the covers being pulled over him. He made an objecting noise, but Bunny ignored him, curling up next to him.

"Go back t' sleep mate, it'll be a while 'fore North's back." He rumbled. "No point in freezin' till then."

Pitch was tempted to make a comment about how he was used to the cold and dark, but decided he was too hungover to bother.

"Hey Pitch?" Bunnymund mumbled idly next to him, sounding like he was half-asleep already.

"Hmm?" Pitch cracked an eye open to glance at the Pooka. Despite his own miserable state, the Pooka managed somehow to look smug.

"Ya make hell of a racket when ya get goin'. I don't think they heard ya in the south pole."

Pitch snorted, and managed to idly flop his hand at Bunny in a light smack.

"Go back t' sleep already, rabbit."