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Vesemir is only slightly concerned to find the door to his home unlocked when he arrives back from a last-minute, emergency work meeting. It’s entirely possible that one of the boys has come home and just forgotten to lock the door behind them, or that the maid is being forgetful again; nothing that he hasn’t seen a dozen times before.
He isn’t expecting to see Jaskier at all – he’s supposed to be across the country right now recording an album. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to find Jaskier in a skimpy costume, bound up in ribbon beneath the massive Christmas tree he, himself, had insisted they put up this year, despite the fact that he….
Ah. Vesemir understands now. This is a surprise. A gift.
“You’re lucky one of the boys didn’t come over before I got home, little bird,” Vesemir drawls, hanging his coat up and taking a few steps into the kitchen to grab a glass and some whiskey.
Jaskier giggles where he’s lying on the tree skirt, head turned to reveal his face since his hands are bound rather tightly behind his back with that ribbon. “Lucky?” he snarks, and Vesemir rolls his eyes.
He takes a sip of his whiskey as he walks back over, setting the glass on a table nearby. “Hm, did one of them help you into this predicament? Or did you manage this all on your own?”
“Both,” Jaskier answers, blue eyes wide and innocent despite the ghost of a smirk on his face. “I did most of it. Lambert helped with my arms.”
“And where is Lambert now?”
“Out drinking with Aiden, probably,” Jaskier shifts one shoulder, and approximation of a shrug. Vesemir snorts.
“Suppose I should unwrap my gift before the sheriff shows up on the doorstep then, hm?”
Jaskier’s eyes go dark. “Please?” he says, half breath, and Vesemir bites back a groan.
It’s all – well, not an act, per se, but it’s targeted, at the least. Jaskier knows exactly what to do to get whatever he wants, from anyone, really, but from Vesemir especially. Although….
“Please what, little bird?”
Jaskier gasps lightly, cheeks flooding red to match the velvet of his skirt. That, at least, he can’t do on command.
“Please, Daddy,” he answers obediently.
Vesemir’s cock twitches. “Good boy,” he praises, loving the way Jaskier shudders when he says it. He circles around behind Jaskier, grunting softly as he kneels between his spread knees. It’s easy to flip the skirt up to reveal lacy white panties beneath, patterned with snowflakes to match his stockings.
Jaskier shudders again when Vesemir palms at his ass. “Oh, please, Daddy.”
“Shh,” Vesemir hushes him. “Let me get a good look at my present, hm?”
Jaskier makes a soft, pleading little noise, but nods against the skirt his face is pressed into. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s right,” Vesemir slides his hand down to squeeze at Jaskier’s thigh, “be good, little bird.”
All he gets in response to that is a quiet little moan as Jaskier shifts his hips back. He chuckles and moves his hands back to the musician’s pert ass, massaging it and reveling in the little gasps that leak from Jaskier when he spreads him apart. The lace is soft against his fingers, and he tugs at it, chuckling when it slips to the side and one of Jaskier’s balls pops out.
“Daddy,” Jaskier whines, squirming on his knees. “Please.”
“What, little bird? Is there something you want?”
“Fuck me, please?”
“Hm.” Vesemir shifts the panties a little so he can fondle Jaskier’s balls. Jaskier shivers and whines, pressing into the touch, cock jumping where it’s still caught in the lingerie. “Need lube for that, little bird. Have to get you stretched open.”
“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier says, almost shy. He stretches his fingers out, where his hands are bound at the small of his back, and snags the waistband of his panties with the tip of one finger, tugging it up until it snaps against his skin. Vesemir gives a questioning hum and one last squeeze to his balls before reaching up to tug the waistband of the panties down.
Removing them reveals the pretty, jeweled end of a plug Vesemir has never seen before – which probably means Jaskier bought it for the occasion. He’s caught between rolling his eyes or giving spanking the pretty ass on offer.
He ends up going with both. Jaskier jolts with the hit and whines, back arching as his fists clench. “Got yourself all ready for me,” Vesemir murmurs, voice gone low. “How long were you waiting here, spread open and all trussed up, hm?”
Jaskier keens. “Ho – hours, Daddy,” he says, squirming backward on his knees. Vesemir smacks his ass again and he just whines, hips bucking. His panties caught around his stocking-covered thighs prevent him from doing much more than wiggling and shifting back and forth, though.
Gods, he looks like a vision.
“Oh?” Vesemir asks, affecting a casual tone he doesn’t feel at all. He pets over the fake, heart-shaped jewel on the base of the plug, putting just a little bit of pressure on it. Jaskier whimpers, so he does it again. “Must feel so needy now little bird.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jaskier pants. “Please, Daddy, want more.”
“Of course you do,” Vesemir teases, and Jaskier just moans, blush deepening again. He hooks two fingers under the base of the plug, and even just that movement makes Jaskier shudder and whine, hips rocking away and then back, as if he could ride the toy. He tugs a little harder, watching the way Jaskier’s hole opens around the bulge of the plug before it clenches back down when he pushes. Jaskier whines again, weaker and breathier.
With his other hand, Vesemir reaches down and brings Jaskier’s cock back so he can tease at it, thumbing over the leaking head. Jaskier’s arms yank against the ribbons binding him, but don’t succeed at doing anything more than making the knots creak. Vesemir grins and pulls at the plug again before pushing it back in once more.
“Daddy, Daddy, please,” Jaskier gasps, heels lifting as he tries to rock back with his whole body. “Please, want you to fuck me.”
“Needy little thing,” Vesemir says, and no matter how much he tries, the words come out adoring. He massages his thumb over the head of Jaskier’s cock one more time before letting it drop to drip precome onto the tree skirt and finally pulls the plug all the way out.
Jaskier makes a greedy little noise, hole clenching around nothing. “Daddy.”
“Still need lube, little bird.”
Jaskier jerks his head a little, toward the tree. “Planned ahead,” he says, a little redundantly.
Vesemir turns to look and finds there is a bottle of lube laying under the tree, rolled all the way to the trunk. He snorts and reaches out to snag it, pressing a fleeting kiss to Jaskier’s side as he does. Jaskier makes a quiet, pleased little noise and rolls his hips back again, shaking his ass invitingly. Vesemir gives him another slap for it, watching as Jaskier’s ass jiggles and he clenches up with a whine.
The lube is decently warm already, probably from the general proximity to Jaskier’s body and the lights of the tree. He pours a generous amount into his palm before closing it again and tossing it aside. Jaskier makes a little sound when he hears it, makes it again when he hears Vesemir slicking his fingers.
At first, he just teases, smirking at the way Jaskier pants and whines. He pets over the stretched rim, fingertips just barely dipping in before pulling out to smear slick around the outside again, doing that again and again until Jaskier is near wailing with it.
“Daddy, Daddy, please, please, I’ll be good I promise – ”
“Shh, little bird, I’ll give you what you want,” Vesemir soothes, coating his fingers in lube once more before he sinks two fingers inside.
Jaskier keens, the sound high and broken as Vesemir moves his fingers, spreading the lube around and teasing at his prostate. Vesemir fucks him with those two fingers until his thighs start to tremble, and then adds a third, spreading them wide just to hear the way the breath punches out of Jaskier’s chest at the stretch.
“Daddy,” he begs, breathless, and Vesemir finally takes pity. Heedless of the mess it’ll make, he pulls open his pants and shoves them aside just enough to pull out his cock, slicking it with the remaining lube pooled in his palm. The sound of it is slick and obscene, and Jaskier wriggles, arms jerking again as if he wants to lever himself up to look.
Vesemir considers untying his hands for a moment, but decides against it. Maybe for the second round.
The first press, slow and steady, sends fire licking up his spine. Jaskier wails, feet kicking as he tries and fails to rock back into it, to make Vesemir go faster.
“Be good, little bird,” he hisses, gripping Jaskier’s hips and squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. Jaskier is hot and tight but so welcoming, muscles clenching and fluttering as he begs for more, harder, Daddy, please. “Greedy little thing, I’m surprised I’m not getting Lambert’s sloppy seconds.”
Jaskier just makes a high, cracked noise at that, thighs tensing as he comes, making a mess of the tree skirt and the floor, his thighs and belly, too. Vesemir makes a low, rough sound, almost a growl, and leans forward, until Jaskier’s bound wrists and hands are trapped between them and he can nose at Jaskier’s throat.
“Daddy,” Jaskier gasps, still trying to rock back into each thrust. Vesemir just makes that same sound and bites at his throat, his ear, until Jaskier turns his head enough to offer his mouth. The kiss is more teeth and spit than anything else, but Jaskier whimpers into it and mumbles out, “more, please,” so it’s fine.
Vesemir rocks his hips faster, deeper, shuddering at the weak noises that pour out of Jaskier’s mouth and into his. He’s stupidly close already, a mix of the surprise of Jaskier being home for Christmas and the sheer temptation of his lithe body beneath him, all bound up in ribbon and pretty velvet and lace.
“Daddy,” Jaskier slurs. “Gonna…fuck.”
“Going to come again, little bird?” Vesemir asks, angling his hips and shortening his thrusts so he’s grinding viciously over the musician’s prostate. Jaskier squeaks, entire face scrunching before he starts to tremble all over. “Go on.”
“Daddy,” Jaskier gasps. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”
“Good boy,” Vesemir murmurs, right into Jaskier’s ear. “Such a good boy, the best gift I ever could have asked for. Fuck, little bird, you feel so fucking good….”
Jaskier just shudders, whining, and clenches down on Vesemir’s cock as he comes again, entire body shifting this time. Vesemir fucks him through it, groaning low and biting at his throat, his shoulders. Jaskier just presses into each bite with a whimper, still shaking, still spasming around his cock with each violent thrust.
“Want it, Daddy, please,” he eventually pants, fingers wiggling where they’re trapped against Vesemir’s belly, still covered by a button-up. “Want you to fill me up.”
Vesemir groans, catching Jaskier’s mouth again as he starts to lose control, rhythm slipping in favor of mindless rutting the closer he gets. Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind either the biting kiss nor the rough thrusts, just whining and whimpering as he kisses sloppily back, trying to rock his hips back into each rough push.
“Yeah, yeah, please, Daddy, just like that,” he mumbles, slurred and messy, and when Vesemir pulls back just enough to look at his face his eyes are bright but half-lidded, lips swollen red to match his cheeks. “Daddy.”
“Fuck,” Vesemir hisses, sinking his teeth into the nape of Jaskier’s neck. His orgasm overtakes him, and he groans, loud and rough, as he spills inside Jaskier, each twitching thrust of his hips fucking it deeper at the same time it leaves a mess at his rim, cum dripping down his balls.
Jaskier shudders with a weak, please little keen. “Daddy,” he says. “Mm, feels so good.”
“Filthy little thing,” Vesemir mutters, licking over the teeth marks on Jaskier’s neck that will turn into a nasty bruise in the next few hours. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”
Jaskier giggles. “Want me to clean it up, Daddy?”
He sounds so cheery, sincere and thrilled, Vesemir can’t help but kiss him again.
Merry Christmas, indeed.