Chapter Text
Several hours had passed since the baron's son, who held the name Arthur Kirkland, had left his home to attend the Royal Ball, hours since his fairy godparent had sent him on his way.
It hadn't mattered at that moment, where said way might lead.
The young nobleman still did not know, but at that very moment, kneeling at the feet of a man, whom he did not know for longer than an hour, lips smeared with cum and naked save for his trousers, he could not have cared less.
"Why don't you find out?" the stranger in the peacock-mask asked him, the lascivious smile dancing around his lips so much more arousing than anything he could have imagined.
It was only five words and yet a shiver ran down his spine just thinking of the prospect they held.
Five words, less than two seconds, and before the young nobleman knew what was happening, he was back on his feet, pinned to the desk, chest pressed against cool wood and ass up against the man behind him.
Arthur's breath hitched when he felt the other's half-hard cock against the cleft of his arse, when all the tension he'd felt before returned within the blink of an eye.
He was trapped between the ice-like cold beneath and the blazing heat behind him, and for a moment his body didn't know whether to freeze at the onslaught of sensations or whether to melt into Jonah's touch.
"Still think I can't keep pace with you, Your Grace?"
Arthur bit back a curse as the other ground his hips against his own in a way that made him ache for more.
He turned to meet his eyes.
"Don't you think that it would be more convincing, if you actually got to it instead of getting yourself off with my slacks?" he questioned, but the other merely chuckled.
Arthur pushed back against the nobleman's hips with a mix of eagerness and protest, delighted in the way Jonah drew in a harsh breath.
"Not one to savour things, hm?" the man asked in a ragged, husky voice.
The teasing remark did not matter much to him at that moment, not with the lust that coursed through his veins like liquid fire, not when Jonah finally unbuttoned his slacks, freeing Arthur's erection.
The feeling of the fabric falling off his heated skin was one of revelation, of deliverance almost.
The baron's son did not know whether he made a sound, but he couldn't have cared any less the moment his overheated skin was exposed to the cool air of the room, the moment he could feel those eyes burning on him like the sun's glare.
As the tentative silence between them lasted longer than what was comfortable, Arthur turned to meet his eyes.
When he looked back over his shoulder, he found the other nobleman staring at his arse.
A reasonable reaction, but not quite what Arthur had expected or hoped to find him doing.
"How..?" was all Jonah got out, eyes still fixed to Arthur's behind like they'd been glued to it.
"Lots of lube and stretching," Arthur replied matter-of-factly, as though it was not a miracle to him as well that the plug sat where it was right now.
"Well?" the young nobleman asked, propping his chin up on one hand, a light smirk on his lips.
"What became of all your fervour? Didn't you want to show me how energetic you are just a minute ago?"
"I-... Yes."
The stranger in the blue mask swallowed.
Arthur could not help the small chuckle he let out, not with the sudden switch in Jonah's demeanor.
The bigger they come, the harder they fall and the hornier they are, the harder they cum, the baron's son, a true lyrical genius in the face of his own arousal, thought to himself.
From what he could see in the pale moonlight that spilt over them, Jonah's cheeks had taken on a bright scarlet colour, while the nobleman himself seemed almost too keen on avoiding Arthur's eyes all of a sudden.
He just might have laughed, had he not been so turned on, had the mere thought of not being satisfied anytime soon not riled him up so much.
Arthur waited another second to see whether Jonah would finally do something, but when nothing happened he turned around to face him, leaning back against the desk.
"Now then, are you going to do this, or do I have to write up a manual on how to service me?" he asked, his teasing tone laced with the desire still burning underneath his skin.
Worshipping his body was one thing, staring at it in silence without even the slightest touch was another.
Jonah didn't seem to have understood a word he had said, however, as he was far too preoccupied by ravishing him with his eyes, and his eyes only.
Arthur felt almost embarrassed by all the attention he was receiving, by the way those eyes traced along his chest and abdomen, farther and farther down to where the riding pants had previously protected his modesty.
He could see lust burning in that deep blue like dark fire, leaving a trail of blazing heat in their wake.
"You really went all out, didn't you, Your Grace?" the other nobleman asked when he regained his voice at last, eyes fixed to the ring that still sat snugly around the base of Arthur's erection.
Arthur let out a small laugh.
"Only the best for the most proper of dance partners."
"At this point I doubt there is much propriety in what we are doing," Jonah answered drily, eliciting another chuckle from his "dance" partner.
The baron's son pushed himself off the desk and wrapped his arms around Jonah's neck.
He came to stand flush against the other noble, felt the heat of his body on his skin like a flame climbing along his body, nipping and biting, stinging and burning.
"How about we lose the rest of it, then?" Arthur purred as he leant in to nibble on Jonah's earlobe, tracing invisible patterns along the shoulders of the taller nobleman.
As the baron's son placed more and more gentle kisses all over his skin, left more and more small marks along his neck, Jonah's fingers kneaded the soft flesh of his arse. They inched closer to the plug with every passing second, with every moan that escaped his lips and was lost to the quiet of the room.
He knew Jonah was smiling even before he spoke.
"I am shocked, Your Grace," he hummed, low and gravelly, "An innocent onlooker might just think you were trying to seduce me..."
"Surely they'd have thought so by the time I sucked your cock at the latest," Arthur commented wryly, before adding, somewhere right beside the other's ear, "But let's say I am... Is it working?"
The young nobleman's breath hitched when he was pulled in even closer all of a sudden.
His legs were parted by the other's thigh and his torso was pressed flush against Jonah's chest as the latter traced the rim of Arthur's hole with only one finger, let it run along the edge of the plug in a slow and teasing motion.
"You tell me," he murmured, grinding his erection against Arthur in a slow, sinful roll of his hips that tore another stifled moan from him.
Arthur's breaths were shallow, nothing but small and uneven puffs of hot air lost in what little space there was between them, as all his moans were swallowed in a kiss that made him forget about breathing altogether.
His arms were back around Jonah's neck, his hands back in his hair as he tried to get rid of even the last inches between them, as he moved in to feel him closer than anything, anyone else.
With one hand still at the small of Arthur's back, the other nobleman returned to lavishing attention on his arse, returned to teasing him mercilessly as he claimed his mouth over and over again with heated kisses as well as gentle nips and bites.
Jonah ground his thigh against him, rubbing against his almost painfully oversensitive cock in a near constant slew of stimulation, of teasing, of near torturous denial of what he needed.
The young nobleman's back arched as he threw his head back with a choked off, wrecked moan, his body limp against the arm in his back.
Arthur couldn't take it anymore.
With a force not unlike the one Jonah had demonstrated earlier while fucking his mouth, the baron's son pulled on the other's hair, forced him to lean in to the point his ear was right beside the Arthur's lips.
"Pardon my language," Arthur grit out, "But if you don't fuck me within the next two minutes I will pin you to the ground and I will ride you, or so help me God."
As if to emphasise his point, he rolled his hips against Jonah's thigh in a way that was nothing like the slow and sensual motions from before. He let out a low moan, head thrown back and mouth agape as Jonah could only watch on in arousal.
Arthur felt the way that hand tightened around his waist, felt the exact moment the lust got the better of the masked stranger in the way his fingers dug into Arthur's skin, the way time seemed to stand still for just a moment.
When the moment shattered and the silence snapped, Arthur found himself back in the same position he'd been in before - bent over the desk, chest pressed against the cold wood and arse exposed to whatever Jonah felt like doing, whatever crossed his mind.
"Quite greedy, aren't you, Your Grace?" he chided, and Arthur could have sworn he was wearing that smile again, the one that seemed almost dangerously enticing to him.
All the reply Arthur could manage was a silent whimper with the way those devious hands still agonised him, with the gentle, almost caring way the other nobleman was driving him mad so deliberately.
One hand was teasing his nipples, pinching the small buds in alternation, pulling on the filigree silver chains of his piercings just enough to send another bolt of white-hot electricity straight from his chest to the part of his body that was still begging to be touched.
His free hand toyed with the stopper of the plug, tracing its edge and twisting it, pushing and pulling, yet never quite removing it, never releasing him from the torment all these small means of stimulation brought him.
Arthur's teeth dug into the soft skin of his lower lip as he bit back another small sound.
He wasn't one to beg, he'd never been. That's what a noble upbringing did to someone, he guessed. But...
He'd been teased enough to last an entire year, all within the span of a couple of hours.
He needed this.
"Just take me already," he pleaded, shocked by just how needy he sounded, by just how raw his voice sounded.
"Please, Jon-Ah!"
Arthur's words were cut off by his own drawn out moan, when the other nobleman gave the silver ring running through his nipple a sharp tug, all while his other hand pushed the plug in just a bit deeper than before, to the point where it brushed up against Arthur's prostate.
"Excuse my inattentiveness, Your Grace, but could you repeat that?"
Arthur could hear the smug grin on Jonah's face, and oh, did he hate himself for still melting into his touch, when all he wanted was to be fucked right then and there.
The young nobleman's hand clenched around the edge of the desk, fingers clawing at the cold surface as he struggled not to make any more of a fool of himself than he already had.
And yet Arthur could not help but marvel at the effortless, almost subconscious dominance in the way Jonah spoke.
He'd be lying, if he said it didn't turn him on.
Nonetheless, he wasn't one to submit easily.
If the stranger wanted him to obey he'd have to make him.
With a harsh push of his hips he pressed himself up against Jonah's crotch, biting back the small sigh that threatened to spill over his lips at the feeling of that near magnificently large cock nestled between his arse cheeks.
He delighted in the hiss the other let out.
"I asked you to fuck me," Arthur replied, cautious to keep control over his voice, "Or do I have to get somebody else to help me with that?"
Jonah's growl was almost animalistic, chased a shiver down Arthur's back like a hound would chase a hare, made him feel like prey face to face with its predator.
Whereas the other nobleman had been teasing before, he now seemed almost predatory, whereas his touch had been playful before, his hands now clenched around Arthur's hips, forced him to stay steady in his position against the table.
"Now now," Jonah admonished, "It doesn't behove a nobleman such as you to be this needy and cormorant, does it?"
Arthur wanted to reply, but with the way Jonah's cock slid along his backside in slow, deliberate motions, all words were lost to him. He stifled yet another moan when the other brushed up against the plug, moved it just the slightest bit, barely enough to send another wave of heat through his body.
Two could play at that game.
With another buck of his hips he offset Jonah's rhythm of teasing and just barely grazing by where Arthur wanted to feel him.
"I doubt fucking somebody's face in some backroom at a Royal Ball behoves a nobleman either, but look where we are," Arthur retorted, grinding back against that erection he wanted to feel inside of him so badly it was impossible to put into words.
"So how about we just double down, since we've already broken with propriety?" the baron's son added, once again eliciting that same chuckle from Jonah that he'd heard so many times that night.
The other man let out a light hum, having regained control over himself.
"Two improprieties for the price of one, how appealing," he commented wryly, tracing a line only he saw along the side of Arthur's hips and up and around, until his hand was on his chest once again.
"But I fear that isn't quite convincing enough yet..."
Jonah was back to teasing him, to rubbing his hands along each and every one of Arthur's most sensitive spots, save for the one he needed him to touch.
Whatever thread of shame or patience was left inside of Arthur snapped.
He'd had enough of the teasing.
With a low groan he reached behind himself, to where the plug still sat, large and heavy, filling but not filling him the way he really wanted it to.
Moans spilt from his lips like only curses did on a normal day as he pulled out the plug, millimetre by millimetre, until he'd finally passed the broadest part and could pull it out completely. Arthur was breathing heavily and sweat clung to his body like a second skin, but at that moment it did not matter to him.
He set the plug down onto the desk with a trembling hand before reaching behind himself once again.
"Is that convincing enough, Your Highness?" Arthur asked, spreading his arse cheeks to bare himself completely.
He was glad he was still facing the window instead of Jonah.
If their eyes had met at that moment, the other would have seen just how mortified he felt, simply by the almost scarlet burn of his cheeks.
Arthur caught a glimpse of the other nobleman in the reflection.
Just like before, Jonah was simply staring at him, but this time something seemed different in the look he gave him. There was the same bewitched appreciation, but Arthur thought he also saw a hint of worry, of doubt in his look.
And then it was gone, then those hands were back on his hips.
"One truly can't call you modest or bashful, can they?" Jonah asked, but it was obvious he was the same, obvious he needed this just as much.
Arthur let out a small snort.
"Not in the slightest," he agreed, "But I don't aspire to be either, so why would it matter?"
Finally, the baron's son could feel the tip of the other's cock press against his rim, could feel the heat of his flesh against his own. Jonah pressed into him in a slow, almost too careful motion, as though he was worried he could break the spell, as though he could break Arthur.
The moment that cock entered him was a feeling far more glorious than Arthur could have ever imagined. He might have considered himself a slut, but none of his toys could have prepared him for the way that cock felt inside of him, could have compared in a way that mattered.
Whereas the magically conjured plug had felt even and warm, pressing up against his insides with an unforgiving force, the way Jonah filled him was near indescribable, a type of heat that was almost ineffable.
A sigh of content passed Arthur's lips when he was buried inside of him at last, when he could feel the burn of his cock against his walls, the slight pain of his fingers digging into the pale skin around his hips.
"Shit," Jonah groaned, and Arthur could not have agreed more.
Jonah's cock not only filled him completely, but also stretched him out in a deliciously painful way, just barely beyond what he could comfortably take, reaching just a bit deeper than what he was used to.
"Ready?" the other nobleman asked, careful not to hurt him, even after everything they'd said and done.
Arthur let out a small laugh, pushing back ever so slightly.
"I've been ready since you first spoke to me," he replied, "So just fuck me already, will you?"
"Your wish is my command," was all the answer he got, then thinking became difficult.
The other nobleman skipped any sort of gentle beginning altogether and set a fast, almost frenzied pace, not that Arthur minded.
He didn't, even pushed back against every thrust and every snap of Jonah's hips with an eagerness not even he himself knew from himself.
Arthur's lips were parted, not like the young nobleman had any sort of energy left to control what sounds left his mouth when any power he had went into keeping up with the other's rhythm, with each deep thrust.
No matter how large the plug had been or how much his toys back in that small compartment of the closet back in his chambers filled him, nothing quite compared to the way the other nobleman stretched him out, the feeling of being stuffed like this over and over again.
Moans spilled over Arthur's lips like pleas to a deity, and by God, Jonah had answered his prayers.
There was something frantic, something uncontrollable and untamed about it, something desperate Arthur couldn't have made sense of even if his brain had still had capacities to think of something other than that cock filling him so gloriously.
His cheeks were burning, just like every other part of his body, slowly kindling and charring at the hands and hips of a man, whose true name he did not even know.
Arthur rolled his hips to meet each of those deep, demanding thrusts, burned up with every motion that drove him closer to that indescribable high.
"F-Fuck, I'm not going to last long, if you keep this up," Jonah groaned behind him at that moment.
Arthur likely wouldn't have been himself had he not made some sort of sarcastic or snarky remark: "Didn't you just tell me about how-... Energetic you were?"
His words were interrupted by a particularly deep thrust, the type that made Arthur's heart race and his mind blank when Jonah hit his prostate just the way he wanted it, the way he needed it.
A stifled scream escaped Arthur's lips, wanton and uncontrolled as his body quaked and trembled, as his knees threatened to give out beneath him.
Before Arthur could even say anything or ask him to, Jonah's hand closed around his still painfully hard cock, stroking and jerking it in time with his rhythm, as he drove both of them closer and closer to completion with those heavenly, hellish thrusts.
"Ready to scream my name, Your Grace?"
Another low, prolonged moan escaped Arthur's lips, more of an answer than any sentence he could have managed at that moment.
The moment the ring around the base of Arthur's cock fell was liberation, was as though shackles had fallen off of him.
He came with a scream that was only muffled by Jonah's hand over his mouth, with a scream that could have been the other nobleman's name, not like the ramblings passing his lips at that point were all too discernable.
Before the baron's son could feel the other spilling inside of him, could feel the way that heat spread throughout his body like liquid fire, Jonah pulled out, instead coming all over Arthur's back.
Maybe that was why he didn't let himself fall onto Arthur and instead leant against the desk, naked as the day God (or perhaps Lucifer, considering what he had just done with those hips) had created him.
The moonlight filtering in through the window made him appear like a painting, like a marble statue.
Like so much more than a mere human.
No matter how long it was, for a while Arthur just lay there, pressed against the cold wood, nothing but a languid mass void of muscle or movement in the absence of those hands to hold him.
It was at that moment that his situation fully sunk in, that his mind allowed thoughts of something other than Jonah's cock inside him, if only for a short moment.
He'd just had sex at a Royal Ball.
Not just any Royal Ball, but one held by the Prince, to find a spouse no less.
And even considering that, the shame he should have felt paled in comparison to whatever emotion Arthur felt upon realising that he'd just lost whatever was left of his virginity after years of masturbation to a masked stranger, who hadn't even given him his true name.
Somehow it was calming to think that he hadn't come inside him, not in a situation like this.
"By the King...," Arthur groaned weakly, when he pushed himself off the cool surface of the desk to at least rest on his forearms.
The silence had returned to the room, and for a moment the two noblemen just remained where they were, simply allowing their breathing and heartbeats to return to normal in that little part of the world that felt like it belonged to just them.
When Arthur made an attempt at getting back up, Jonah stopped him.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, ready to complain, "I still have to clean up, not to mention-"
Any remnants of whatever he'd meant to say died on his lips as Jonah's hands returned, carefully applying pressure as he began kneading the tense muscles of his back, working out not all the kinks, but at least those that could be gotten rid of.
A soft sigh escaped his lips.
"Don't complain before you know what I'm doing, Your Grace," the other nobleman admonished with a light chuckle, and Arthur would have loved to take back his moan.
He couldn't, however, and neither could he keep another small sound from escaping his swollen lips. Jonah continued rubbing his back in small, circular motions, either uncaring or all-too-aware of the way he spread his own cum all over Arthur's back.
"I'm complaining-ng - Because I don't know what you're doing," Arthur corrected him, but the way Jonah drew one groan after the other from his lips did not help him seem more convincing in any way.
Arthur could hear the smirk in the other's voice, when he spoke again: "Let me enlighten you then."
The baron's son felt like putty, clay in the strong yet gentle hands of the other, easy to bend and shape whatever way he wanted as Jonah massaged him, rubbing the cum over and into Arthur's pale skin.
"At the moment I am helping Your Grace by massaging your back," he explained innocently, "You must be terribly sore from holding that position for so long, correct?
The other nobleman kept on kneading Arthur's back and shoulders, massaging him with gentle, nevertheless powerful hands. Nonetheless all that Arthur could think of was the feeling of the cum still on his back, the cum being spread around and slowly but surely being rubbed into his skin.
A weak moan escaped his lips.
"My, quite tense, aren't you?" Jonah quipped, almost as though he was trying to ruin the tenderness of the moment, as though anything sexual about it passed him completely.
Arthur hummed softly, eyes closed as he enjoyed the little miracles those hands did to all the knots and tension in his back.
"Do you always end your nights with a bad pick-up-line?" he asked, unable to quite hide his amusement.
Jonah chuckled, but did not reply as he instead rubbed down Arthur's back in two long, firm strokes, his hands on either side of the young nobleman's spine.
It was sweet, tender, and had realisation not struck Arthur, he would have stayed there for however long Jonah would have wanted him to, however long the night lasted.
But alas, realisation did strike, almost like a bucket of ice water over his head, when he recalled a tidbit he'd rather he'd forgotten.
"Do you have a watch?" Arthur asked, no matter how much he would have loved to just ignore the thought of whatever might happen, if he didn't.
Jonah stopped his ministrations, let his hands remain where they had halted for just another moment, a mellow warmth on his back.
"I think so?" he said in a questioning tone, but he didn't ask the question that was on his mind, nor did he bother to hide his confusion.
Arthur didn't need him to ask anyway, they both knew the question.
Why are you asking that?
The baron's son slowly pushed himself off the desk and onto his feet. He turned around to find Jonah reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat before pulling out the small, silver timepiece with a look of triumph on that face Arthur had not even seen without the mask.
Jonah was still completely naked, when he stepped back towards the window in an attempt to decipher the small numbers on the face of the pocket watch with what little moonlight he could catch.
"It's thirty minutes to midnight," the other nobleman said after a moment, and Arthur swallowed heavily.
"Shit," he muttered, before bending over to gather up his clothes, which still lay strewn all about the room.
"What's the matter?" Jonah asked, brows furrowed and a trace of worry on his face.
Arthur would have loved to have an excuse ready for him, but as things went, he had none, not even an idea.
"I have to leave," was all he said, hopping on one foot as he struggled to get back into the riding pants.
Had they always been this tight?
The stranger did not reply, only watched on as Arthur put his clothes back on in frantic, barely controlled movements, as he buttoned his shirt incorrectly and only managed to pull up the high boots after the third attempt, almost toppling over in the process.
The fabrics rubbed and stung against his oversensitive body, and even after Jonah's tender care he could feel the way the shirt adhered to his back, the way it stuck to his skin and the cum still on it, not that it was visible beneath the waist- and overcoat.
"Can't you stay? If it's about the travel, I can always organise a carriage for tomorrow!"
Oh, how much Arthur would have loved to take that offer, to spend the rest of the night somewhere in bed (or anywhere else, really) with that man, to wake up next to him and have another round even before breakfast.
And yet, a fairy somewhere out there was at fault that he could not do that.
"I'm sorry, I really have to leave," Arthur said again, even if the look Jonah gave him hurt inside his heart like only a knife should be able to.
"At least let me lead you outside!" the other nobleman exclaimed, and against all better judgement Arthur didn't decline.
It didn't matter whether he accepted or declined, he'd lose time either way.
Either he'd be stuck arguing with Jonah, trying to escape him, or he'd have to wait for him to get dressed.
In the end Arthur chose the latter option, perhaps because he was sentimental, perhaps because he didn't argue right after the best sex he'd ever have.
When they made their way through the maze of corridors this time, Jonah led him along a different path. They reached the large staircase in record time, and found themselves faced with Dick the Great, already fully prepared and saddled up.
Halfway down the marble steps Arthur turned back around one last time.
"Thank you for tonight," he called, well-aware of the bittersweet feeling in his chest, of the pained smile on Jonah's face, "I'm sure we'll meet again sooner or later!"
Otherwise Francis gets it, it shot through his head.
If the fey as much as dared to think of letting him not have a chance at reuniting with Jonah, Arthur would not only go out to find him himself but also would he find some way to get back at Francis.
Jonah only gave him a small wave and that sad smile, then they parted.
Arthur jumped onto his horse far too quickly considering he'd just gotten fucked into a table, but he didn't show it outside of gritting his teeth as he rode off into the night.
The ride home felt nowhere near as long as the one to the Royal Palace had, either because he wasn't stuffed to the brim with a plug almost as large as his fist or because he was spurring Richard on more than enough to make the distance in a new best time.
The absence of the plug was not something Arthur had noticed immediately, perhaps only as he crossed the bridge marking the edge of the palace grounds. Then again, it was no surprise he'd forgotten, considering the hurry with which he'd left.
A part of Arthur wanted to worry about forgetting it back there, but he couldn't quite come up with anything worrisome resulting from somebody finding the toy. It was a butt plug, there was nothing too alarming to be done with it, was there?
Nonetheless the baron's son was almost disappointed at the loss, it had been a good plug after all, especially considering the size and material. To think he'd ever wear a glass plug of all things...
And yet the toy could not compare to Jonah in any meaningful way, in no way at all, if he truly thought about it.
Arthur still felt him everywhere, his hands on his back and his fingers digging into his hips with bruising force, the sharp snaps of his hips and his skin had slapped against Arthur's as he all but pounded him into the desk.
The way his cock had felt inside of him, a burning heat almost, melting away what little self-control he'd possessed.
The thoughts of that had to have been the worst thing about that night, closely followed by the clock striking midnight the second Arthur jumped off Richard's back.
At the first strike of the clock the cream-coloured shirt dissolved, on the next his waistcoat followed. The riding pants followed on the third strike, the coat on the fourth, curiously leaving behind the piercings completely untouched.
Fortunately his boots hadn't been conjured by the fey, otherwise Arthur would have been forced to return to his chambers both naked and barefoot.
Fuck fairies and fuck their magic.
And God, should he ever find Jonah again, no, when he found Jonah again, fuck him.