When Jefferson ventured outside to collect the mail on the cold December evening he certainly wasn't prepared to be accompanied by anything other than the crisp, bitter air. He certainly didn't expect a strong, firm grip to wrap around his wrist on his way down the front steps. He spun on his heel slowly, meeting the familiar blue eyes that always seemed to mirror his own.

"Killian."

"Hatter."

"You know I don't like to be called that."

"Well Jeff, how—"

"It is Jefferson," he spat, "or nothing at all. Do not call me Jeff." He always hated the shortening of his name, thought it made him sound older than he was. Jefferson seemed to have a ring to it. A certain air of class, even.

Killian spoke softer this time. "Sweetheart…"

Jefferson's eyes broke away, his hostile facade failing just the slightest bit as he felt Killian's stare through his entire being. "What do you want?"

"You," he said simply.

Jefferson didn't really have room to argue. He was alone as always and the company couldn't hurt. Although he didn't know what exactly Killian was after, he had some idea.

They walked through the entry to the living room and past the grand piano to the hallway, his boots clacking on the hard wood floor. The walls were covered in luxurious champagne wallpaper with a subtle diamond accent. Dark frames hung in a grid formation and dark, heavy drapes framed the window on the far wall.

"Not even going to offer me tea?"

"You and I both know you aren't here for the tea."

Jefferson flipped the bedroom light on. This room was decorated much like the rest of the house: elaborately but with few personal touches. The bedroom was wallpapered in a white and black damask print, the headboard on the bed completely mirrored. A black chandelier replaced the traditional light fixture and the bed sheets were jet black.

"Your rate's the same I s'pose?"

"Hasn't gone up in four months," Jefferson said flatly.

Killian never understood it, why Jefferson did this. He was unsure if Jefferson was simply so lonesome he would accept the company of strange men in his bedroom. Killian knew it was partially for the money. Although Jefferson had the mansion Regina gifted to him a great deal of cash money was necessary to keep Jefferson's habit going. It was known throughout Storybrooke that Jefferson was a man to stay away from. He had the calmest demeanor but could snap at any given time. Doctor Hopper had informally diagnosed him with manic depression but refused to prescribe Jefferson any sort of medication, knowing that he'd only abuse it. And it isn't like Jefferson would have accepted help if someone offered it to him.

Recreational drugs were never Jefferson's thing until he completely lost hope in everything he knew. After Emma left Storybrooke everyone lost hope. Most of them moved on but Jefferson never recovered. Grace was gone and there was no hope of getting her back. Jefferson didn't see why there was any reason to try and rebuild any sort of life for himself without his daughter. Eventually he stopped watching her. He knew she was in good hands of good people who could give her everything and he felt hopeless.

"Are you ready?" Jefferson asked, pulling Killian from his thoughts. He turned, surprised to find Jefferson completely undressed, his pile of dark clothing lying in the corner on the floor. The scarf that concealed the scar on his neck was gone and Killian couldn't tear his eyes away from it long enough to look at another part of Jefferson's naked body.

Killian removed his pea coat, tossing it across the armchair. He toed off his shoes, peeled his socks off. He felt Jefferson's eyes on his body as he unzipped his jeans and slid them off. Apparently he was taking too long because Jefferson crossed the room and reached down, grabbing the hem of Killian's t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

"How do you want me?" Jefferson asked, holding back a sigh, as if he didn't know the routine. Killian never changed his methods, yet every time they got together Jefferson asked. He figured it was best to make sure his client got what he paid for.

Killian laid down, propped back against the pillows on Jefferson's bed and beckoned him with outstretched arms, one hand grasping the bottle of lube that Jefferson had sat out.

"Ah. Of course." Jefferson nodded. With a tiny smirk on his lips that formed out of malice more than anything else, he crossed the room, climbing onto the bed and slinging a leg over Killian's thighs. He felt a slick finger slide across his entrance teasingly.

"Tell me what you plan to do to me," Killian directed softly.

Jefferson groaned, pushing himself down onto Killian's slick finger. He hit his lip, rocking his hips just the slightest. He had to admit that this was his favorite part of the nights he spent with Killian. Jefferson loved the feeling of Killian's long fingers probing his walls. Loved the feeling of being stretched wide by Killian's hand alone.

"First," Jefferson began, "I'm going to let you finger me, stretch me so damned wide, get my ass nice and open for you." He felt a second finger join the first one and rejoiced silently, letting his eyes fall closed.

Killian leaned forward, pressing teasing kisses to Jefferson's clavicle. "Do you like this?" he whispered between kisses, setting his free hand on Jefferson's belly.

"It's alright," Jefferson breathed, nodding. He never quite understood but it was as if Killian could get off on pleasing Jefferson. It didn't matter much what he did for himself. As long as his companion seemed to enjoy it, Killian could wait. Jefferson pushed himself down onto Killian's fingers greedily, taking all they would give until it wasn't enough.

"Another," Jefferson demanded.

Killian complied. He reached for the lube, brought it behind Jefferson's hips, slicked his ring finger and slid it in next to his other two. Jefferson finally moaned at that and leaned forward, kissing along Killian's bearded jaw until he reached the small earring dangling from his ear. Jefferson smirked, flicking his tongue across it before pulling them into his mouth. His lips closed around Killian's earlobe and he sucked playfully, his teeth grazing the skin.

Jefferson whimpered as Killian thrusted his fingers in quick jerky movements. He was loosening up rapidly, as he always did, and his knees dug into the mattress, unrelenting. He released Killian's earlobe, lifting off his fingers and sliding down to kneel between Killian's legs. He reached out, wrapping his thin fingers around the base of Killian's cock.

"Our agreement," Killian reminded him quietly.

Jefferson nodded. "You want your cock in my mouth? Shoved down my throat?" he asked, flicking his tongue across the head.

"Sweetheart," he said impatiently. "Please... come on."

Jefferson moaned around him and took Killian into his mouth completely, sucking him deeper. Killian reached down to guide Jefferson's head as it moved, fingers tangling in his quaffed dark hair.

"God, that's good," he murmured, thrusting into Jefferson's mouth gently as he threw his head back. Jefferson hollowed his cheeks completely, taking hold of Killian's hips and letting him thrust as his tongue hugged the underside of the thick, heavy cock.

In a moment of uncontrollable lust Killian pulled out and grabbed his cock, slapping it against Jefferson's lips. "You like this. You love it, don't you?"

"I love it," Jefferson said quietly. Whether that statement had any validity to it or not was another question entirely. He ran his tongue up and down the length and finally worked Killian in his mouth inch by inch, running his tongue along the veins, until his nose was at his groin, the coarse pubic hair tickling his cheeks.

"My god. Oh, you are good at that," Killian chuckled dryly. He thrusted into Jefferson's mouth relentlessly and could feel himself being buried in Jefferson's throat. "So good," he panted. Killian pushed Jefferson back, his cock falling from those pouty lips with a slick pop.

"Come," Killian beckoned.

Jefferson did so obediently, climbing up to straddle Killian's lap once more. He heard the distinct snap of the lube cap and several moments later felt the same three fingers push inside of his loose ass once more. He groaned at the feeling and wrapped his arms around Killian's neck to steady himself. In all honesty Jefferson hated that Killian was so gentle. It was almost as if they were lovers. One could call them that in a sense, but they weren't. Killian was a paying customer. It's just that it was much easier for Jefferson to do this exchange with him because Killian was considerate of Jefferson's delicate state, so to speak.

Jefferson leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to Killian's dry lips. He pulled back, his own mouth turning up at the corners easily.

"You're waiting," he concluded, receiving a nod from Killian. "Alright. Well, first, I'm gonna ride you at a maddeningly slow pace; I know how much that gets you off, sitting under me as my ass slides up and down your cock."

Killian chuckled and moved his fingers once more. A throaty moan slipped from Jefferson's lips and his blunt nails dug into Killian's shoulder. They sat in relative silence for several minutes as Killian worked his fingers deeper inside of Jefferson's ass, twisting them and thrusting them as deep as they could go in this position. He was already sufficiently stretched but Killian enjoyed making sure his recipient got something out of this exchange.

"I'm good," Jefferson muttered after a while.

"I know," Killian whispered. As he lined himself up with Jefferson's hole he slipped his fingers out and lifted them to Jefferson's mouth to taste. Jefferson did so obediently, pulling Killian's fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue over them. As slutty as it was, Jefferson had to admit he loved to admit that he loved the taste of Killian's skin mixed with lube and ass. He whimpered, desperately wiggling on Killian's lap.

"Fuck me," he begged.

"I intend to," Killian chuckled. He gripped Jefferson's hips as he thrusted in, giving Jefferson little time to adjust because it wasn't necessary. He was nice and slick and loose.

"Talk," Killian purred softly as Jefferson's hand started working at his own hard cock. And in all honesty, this confused Jefferson. He never knew why Killian treated him with so much respect, but then would ask for him to say things that weren't exactly the truth. \

Nonetheless, Jefferson nodded. "Love this, love your dick, when you fuck me and when you ram into my tight ass," he moaned, head thrown back. "Love it when I ride you," he added with a grunt.

Killian groaned at the sound of Jefferson's voice and Jefferson took over. He reached behind Killian, steading himself on the headboard. He did his best not to look at his reflection in the mirrored furniture as he rocked desperately on Killian's cock.

Killian panted and met Jefferson's movements in the middle, thrusting into him roughly as fingers dug into Jefferson's flesh hard enough to bruise. The only noises in the room were the slapping of their thighs together and mixed and mingled grunts. Jefferson felt himself getting closer and an arm left the headboard, hooking around Killian's neck. He buried his face in Killian's shoulder, biting down on the thick flesh as he came. Killian followed shortly after, letting out a strangled cry as Jefferson clamped down around him and spilled inside of Jefferson, his nails scratching his hips.

Jefferson pushed off of him with a grunt, falling to the side of the bed. He definitely wasn't high enough for this. He was still coming down from his orgasm and his legs wavered as he walked over to the dresser. He grabbed the plastic card, then remembered that he hadn't been to Gold to purchase lately and opted for a few of the pain killers he bought under the table from Ruby.

"Jefferson," Killian whispered.

"Hm?" Jefferson replied, tossing the pills back with a swig of water from the glass that had been sitting there for days.

"Would- would you like me to stay?" Killian asked quietly as he slipped back into his clothes.

"You've never stayed before. Why would you stay this time?"

"All alone in this mansion... You seem like you could use some company."

Jefferson glanced over his shoulder before turning back to the mirrored dresser. "Why would I need that?"

"I'm trying I reach out to you."

"Excuse me for being a little put off," Jefferson spat. "I just let you fuck me for money. I'm not exactly in the mood to cuddle."

"You don't have to let me. You don't have to let anyone do that if you don't want to. You've got choices here, love."

Jefferson chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "Oh, like what?"

"Jefferson, we've all suffered at the hands of Regina. Perhaps you-"

"No!" Jefferson cut in. "No one has suffered as I have. No one."

"Life doesn't have to be this miserable. It must be awful for you not having a family. I know how much you miss your daughter but-"

"Grace."

"But you can't change the past. I know, I've tried, but you can move on."

Move on? Move on. The words didn't make sense to Jefferson. He had lost everything at the hands of Regina and now there was no hope for getting it back. He didn't see any reason to try and get better. He was living a life without purpose and didn't have any plan to change that anytime soon. Jefferson lunged for the handgun that set atop the dresser next to his box of narcotics.

"Get out!" he snarled, pointing the barrel at the center of Killian's chest.

"Jefferson," Killian pleaded softly.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" he snapped, cocking the gun and taking several steps toward Killian. He motioned to the bedroom door with the barrel and Killian gave no more resistance, pulling the wad of money from his pocket. He tossed it on the bed and left without another word.