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It’s a regular movie night and Dick reaches out to the coffee table to grab some snacks, glancing at Slade in the armchair. The older man is sitting by himself, maybe Dick should go over and drop into his lap to keep him company. Maybe even grind down a little bit, tease Slade with everything they could be doing if they were alone—
“Hey, heard a rumor that Dick can take an entire fist up his ass, is that true?”
Dick almost chokes, dropping the bag of cookies and twisting around to glare at Tiger. The other man is smirking as attention across the room redirects, and he leans back at Dick’s glower.
“Yes,” comes the answer and Dick whirls in the opposite direction.
“Slade,” he hisses, furious, his cheeks flushing. Slade isn’t even looking at him, he’s still paying attention to the movie.
“What, seriously?” Tiger raises a skeptical eyebrow and looks at Dick, “Uptight little thing like him? No, I don’t see it.”
“Excuse me—”
“No, he can,” Slade turns and meets Dick’s gaze like Dick isn’t trying to bore a hole into his head with his glare. “Just sucks it right in. Don’t you, little bird?”
“Fuck you,” Dick spits out, glaring at both Slade and Tiger, “We’re not having this conversation.”
“Prove it,” Tiger challenges.
“Proof’s sitting right there.”
Everyone is staring at him now, Apollo and Constantine peering at him curiously while M leers. Dick cautiously scoots away from him. Cheeks burning red, Dick contemplates slapping Slade as he glowers at them all.
“Yes, okay,” he grinds out, “I can take a fist up the ass. Satisfied your curiosity?” Now they can get back to the movie and Dick can pretend like this conversation never happened and remind Slade of the meaning of need to know information—
“No,” Tiger drawls, eyes roaming over Dick a little too proprietarily, “I still can’t see it.”
Dick narrows his eyes, “I don’t care and I don’t have to prove anything to you—”
“Lube’s in the bedroom, second drawer down on the left.”
Dick turns to stare at Slade, blinking in confusion. Tiger laughs and leaps out of his chair, heading to the bedroom. It takes Dick far too long to realize that M, Apollo, and Constantine are all staring at him with hungry looks.
“What?” Dick’s voice climbs a pitch, “No. What the fuck, Slade, I’m not doing this, what’s wrong with you?” Slade is looking at the screen and ignoring him. “This isn’t funny,” Dick snaps, and moves to get off the couch.
Midnighter’s hand around his wrist stops him. “Where do you think you’re going, birdie?” M purrs, and Dick begins to feel a sinking sensation in his stomach.
“Let me go,” Dick yanks harshly at his arm but M’s grip just tightens and he can see Constantine pressing closer on the other side. “This isn’t funny, guys, let go!”
“It’s not supposed to be a joke,” M says, voice going low, and there are hands at the waistband of his pants and Dick has had enough.
He twists sharply against M’s grasp, flinging an elbow in his direction as he pulls away from Constantine, intent on levering up and escaping from the back of the couch—he has no idea what’s gotten into them but he doesn’t feel safe right now—but M grabs both his wrists with a dark look and twists them behind Dick’s back.
“Constantine, some help?” he asks and all of Dick’s wriggling can’t escape the magician’s grip. Constantine mutters a spell and now there’s bonds wrapped around Dick’s wrists, keeping them locked behind his back.
“You fucking asshole,” Dick hisses, and tilts back to kick at M, desperate to free himself from the tangle on the couch. M loses his breath in a sharp exhale as Dick’s kick connects, but his roll off the couch is halted by a hand tightening in his hair and Dick snarls as he’s hauled back up.
“You seem worked up, kid,” M says, voice heavy, “Why don’t we help you with that?”
Dick tries to kick out again but M’s pulled him across his lap and there’s nothing to kick but empty air. A hand on his pants tears them off of him and Dick draws in breath to protest but loses it in a shriek at the harsh crack of pain across his bare ass.
“That’s it,” M says quietly, “You need to remember your place.”
“Fuck you,” Dick tries to say, but he loses it in escalating gasps as the blows fall. M hits hard, harder than he can brace for, and it’s too fast for a pattern that Dick can block out. Each crescendo of pain is cut by the next one and Dick cannot help writhing as he screams.
“S—lade,” he tries, twisting his head to see the older man, but Slade isn’t even looking at him and the strike along the curve where his ass meets his thigh makes him lose what breath he has left.
“Your boyfriend isn’t going to save you,” Constantine laughs over the sound of cracks.
“You turn so red, kid, fuck,” M groans and Dick tries to muffle his shouts into the couch cushion. “Let’s see how dark we can get it.”
“No,” Dick shrieks, trying desperately to get away, but M’s grip is too strong. He can do nothing but take it, every blow that blisters his skin and leaves it stinging in a wave of fire that never ends.
He doesn’t know how long it is, twenty seconds or twenty minutes, before his screams become choked gasps and he stops his pointless struggling.
Dick just knows that at some point, he hiccups and waits for a blow that does not fall. “There we go,” M says, satisfied, as fingers skim across his burning ass. Dick jerks and suppresses his whimper. “That’s much better, isn’t it?”
“Christ, that’s beautiful,” Tiger swears from somewhere above them, “Here, I got the lube.”
“No,” Dick wheezes out, hoping, praying for someone to listen to him, please—
“Shh,” comes Constantine’s voice as hands lift Dick’s shoulders up and pull him further, off M’s lap and across Apollo and Constantine’s. His crotch is pressed against Constantine’s thigh, his ass bared to open air as someone works his pants all the way off. “Come on, mate, it’s just a little fun.”
“No,” Dick whispers, wincing as fingers press against the throbbing skin and hissing when they squeeze. “Ah, stop—”
“We just want our proof,” Tiger says and Dick shuts his eyes at the sound of the lube cap.
A hand pulls firmly on his left cheek before a finger presses at his rim and the slide is drowned out by the throbbing fire. Dick doesn’t notice the second finger go in but he does notice when M curls them and he tries to rock forward to get away.
“Wow, he takes two easier than I thought,” Tiger hums. A hand tightens in Dick’s hair, forcing him to stay in place.
“I can’t have been the only person imagining this,” Constantine says hungrily. A slap cracks across burning flesh and Dick instinctively tightens.
“Hey, no, kid, relax,” M places a hand on Dick’s hip as he slides the third finger in, “Nice and easy. You can do this.”
“No,” Dick says softly, but no one listens. No one cares.
Midnighter slides the fourth finger in and this time his hand goes in deeper, knuckles catching at the rim and popping past and Dick can’t help the jolt when the fingers brush across his prostate. “Yeah?” M laughs, doing it again, “You like that?” The fingers rub insistently and Dick flinches and squirms and tries to wriggle away from M’s fingers as heat pools in his groin. Unfortunately, all it does is rock his now-hard cock against Constantine’s thigh.
“Looks like someone’s getting excited,” Constantine jeers, as though his own hard-on isn’t pressing against Dick’s side.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” M asks, low and wicked, “You enjoying yourself?” The fingers curl and Dick’s protest dissolves into a moan.
“No—stop—”
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” The cold, wet sensation of more lube drips down against Dick’s crack and he muffles the whine. “Just a little further.”
No, not this quick, Slade never did it this quick, it’s too fast, too fast—
M’s thumb presses insistently at his rim. Dick lifts his head to beg him to stop, to beg him to go slower, give him a break, please—and loses it in a shriek when the thumb presses in.
It’s too much. It’s too wide. It’s pressing and pressing and pressing, achingly slow, and Dick can feel every millimeter of the push in as he’s forced to give way under the relentless pressure. He can feel the second when the widest part of M’s hand pops in and how his ass swallows the rest like it’s sucking it in. He can feel M inside him, all five fingers pressing against his walls.
Dick makes a high, incoherent sound.
“Aww, I think we broke him,” someone laughs as fingers gently stroke through his hair. Dick is trembling from head to toe, breaths fluttering as his hole clenches in spasms, trying to close. “But it looks like he can take it after all.”
“Not quite done,” M says and the jolt of alarm grows louder as M begins twisting his hand, right and left, curling his fingers and pressing hard against his insides until with one motion, he curls the hand into a fist. “There we go,” M says with satisfaction.
Dick exhales raggedly and feels the tears pooling in his eyes.
“That feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” M croons, twisting his wrist in slow, grinding movements. It forces his jutting knuckles against Dick’s prostate with every twist and Dick tries to push up, tries to get away, but M pins him in place with one hand on his bound wrists and laughs. “Come on, kid, let go, it’s okay.”
Dick doesn’t have a choice. On the next twist, the pleasure burns through him and Dick comes with a hoarse shout, toes curling as he clenches around the fist inside of him.
For a long moment, all he can hear is his ears ringing. Then the voices bleed back in. “Fuck,” Tiger is saying, “That looked fucking gorgeous.”
“He feels so good,” M says as he slowly works his fingers out, “So warm and tight.”
Tiger groans, “Oh, yes, move, it’s my turn.”
His turn? Dick lifts his head as much as he’s able, trying to twist up. “Wait,” he says, breathing hard, “Wait, stop—you have your proof—you don’t need to—”
“Well, no, we don’t need to do anything,” Tiger laughs as he slides into Midnighter’s place and yanks Dick closer to him. “We want to do this.”
Dick looks around for allies but Constantine is leering down at him and Apollo merely pats his head and Midnighter smacks his sore ass and—“Slade!” Dick twists to search for the older man, “Help. Please!”
Slade finally, finally turns away from the movie. His expression is inscrutable as he stares a Dick, tied up and helpless and at the mercy of four other men.
“He can deepthroat too,” Slade offers and Dick doesn’t even have time to register the betrayal before Constantine is pulling on his hair to yank his head up and freeing himself from his pants. Dick’s protest is drowned out as Constantine forces him down on his cock and Dick can’t do anything as he’s filled.
Constantine shoves him all the way down and Dick’s eyes are tearing up again as the cock hits the back of his throat. He has no leverage and nothing to stop Constantine from using him as a toy as he tightens his fingers in Dick’s hair.
Tiger doesn’t bother going slow either. He shoves three fingers in and, while Dick is still screaming silently around Constantine’s cock, screws the fourth one in there too, laughing breathlessly as Dick is forced to take the stretch. Dick tenses up from head to toe when Tiger presses his fingernails against his oversensitive prostate and Constantine makes a muffled groan.
“Whatever you did, do it again,” Constantine says hoarsely, “Fuck, he tightened around me like a dream.”
Tiger laughs, rich and dark and Dick can’t fight the shiver.
No, he wants to shout, stop, it’s too much, Tiger’s harsh fingers are too much, it hurts, it hurts but he’s getting hard again, please, no. Tiger pushes forward, thumb tucked in, and instead of waiting, instead of going slow, he twists his hand into a fist right then and there, so Dick is screaming as Tiger punches in.
“Fuck, fuck, almost there,” Constantine groans, forcing Dick down deeper, and Tiger presses hard inside him as he rakes his knuckles across Dick’s prostate. Dick can’t move, can’t fight, can’t do anything but take it, and the combined stimulation is too much.
He comes again, vision going white, and he can barely hear Constantine’s shout as warmth gushes down his throat.
By the time reality bleeds back in, Dick is aware that he’s slumped on the couch, ass propped up, as hands roam over his skin. “—take the edge off,” Tiger grunts, sitting down in front of him, and drags Dick’s head until he can force it down on his hard, thick cock. Dick relaxes his throat to take it, but tenses up again when someone rakes their fingernails down the bruises on his ass.
“He’s so loose now.”
“Look at that.”
“Mm, how did we never realize how plump his ass is?”
Tiger snaps his hips up in a punishing beat and Dick is forced to take it, jaw aching and throat sore. Fingers poke at his rim and pinch his burning skin and when two slide into his ass, he can tell they’re not from the same person.
“I wonder how much we can fit in here,” comes the low laugh.
“Look,” a titter, “He’s getting hard again.” Hands dropping lower, to fondle his balls, even as Dick tries to squirm away from the unwanted pleasure..
“Hey,” idly, casually, as three-four-five fingers pump lazily in and out, crooking against his walls, “Do you think he can take two fists?”
There’s an instinctive jolt of terror at that, Dick tensing up and pressing away, and Tiger takes that moment to groan and come inside him.
“That,” Apollo says quietly, “Gives me an idea.” Before Dick can recover, Tiger pulls out and Dick is pulled up by the hips until he’s kneeling on his heels. Apollo’s hands are firm on his waist, Constantine is leaning over the back of the couch and grinning, M takes a seat in front of him with a wicked smile, and Tiger leans back in his seat, exuding satisfaction.
“Please,” Dick rasps, heart racing, “Don’t.” They’re eyeing him like a pack of wolves eyes a rabbit. “Please.”
“Shh, sweetheart,” Apollo hums, and then yanks him back at odds to his gentle tone, spearing him on his cock in one smooth stroke. Dick screams. “You just have to sit there and take it.”
Dick is shaking. Apollo’s hands are tight and steady, sitting still with his cock pressing deep inside Dick as M slinks forward. Dick tries to keep his legs closed but he’s exhausted and his legs are trembling and it’s child’s play for M to pull them apart and press in close.
“Yes, birdie,” M smiles, slow and soft and wicked, “You can take the both of us, can’t you?”
Dick’s tired brain takes perhaps too long to fully comprehend that. By the time it does, Dick’s knees are near his shoulders and M’s finger is pressed in beside Apollo’s cock and his weight is heavy on top of Dick and Apollo is holding him in place and—
Dick wails, louder by the second, as Midnighter pushes in alongside Apollo, slow and thick and too much. “Slade,” he nearly screams, twisting desperately against Apollo’s grip to search out the only person that can save him, “Slade, please, make them stop, please, please, please!”
“He cries so prettily,” M murmurs as he pushes all the way in before stopping. Dick cries harder, seeing a blurry figure getting closer. A soft finger brushes away the tears, “Absolutely delicious.”
“Slade,” Dick begs, staring up at the older man, “Please.”
Slade considers him for a long, stretching, silent moment.
“His nipples are sensitive,” he says, and Dick starts sobbing before gleeful fingers pinch at the round nubs, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to his groin.
“No,” he tries—jolts—writhes to get away but he’s pinned between two men far stronger than he is, and they manipulate his body like it’s a plaything as they bounce him down on their cocks. “Please,” he begs through shrieks as they—too much, too thick, too hot, too much—fuck into him, harder and harder, carving him open from the inside. Electricity curls down his spine, skittering across his skin, sparking at every harsh tug on his nipples as Dick is just forced to take it.
The addition of a warm, wet mouth to the abused nub is what pushes him over the edge.
Dick screams as he comes, clenching up tightly, and both Apollo and M groan in unison as they slam home and fill him with wetness. The world feels slightly unreal when he drifts down, like everything is muted and distant. Apollo and M pull out and Dick would’ve collapsed right there if Apollo didn’t hold on.
“Satisfied?” Slade asks above them as Dick is pulled onto his back. Five faces look down at him and Dick feels vulnerable and exposed and uncomfortably bare.
“Oh yes,” Tiger laughs, “You didn’t tell us you were hiding such a prize, Slade.”
“Prize?” Slade chuckles, low and dark, “You don’t know the half of it.”
Dick’s hands are still bound behind his back so he can’t reach for Slade when the man settles between his legs. His throat is too hoarse to form the query when Slade grips his thighs and bends his legs back, back and back and back, until he’s folded in two.
“Well, little bird,” Slade says softly, “Shall we show them what you can really do?”
The man doesn’t wait for an answer before he pushes the first finger in. Two and three and four follow in quick succession, Dick is loose enough that it takes no effort at all, and Dick’s breath only hitches when Slade slides his thumb in. The man curls his fingers into a fist and Dick takes a tight breath—his hand is big, always so big inside Dick, filling him up, so, so much.
Slade pushes deeper, his knuckles skimming against Dick’s prostate, and Dick whines at the sensation, pushing fitfully away. “Please,” he whispers, he can’t come again, it hurts, it’s far, far too much.
Slade ignores him.
The fist pushes deeper. Dick thinks Slade is rocking back for a thrust, but no, Slade keeps pushing it in, further and further. The glide is tortuously slow and Slade’s arm is—is thick and the muscle presses firmly into his hole, keeping it open, holding it open, and Dick chokes as Slade doesn’t stop.
“No—please—Slade, I can’t—it can’t—Slade—”
Slade does not stop until his arm is sunk deep, deep into Dick, almost all the way to the elbow. Dick can feel it in the back of his throat as he stares, wide-eyed, at where Slade is pressed into him.
“Slade,” Dick whimpers, unable to choose between stop and no and please.
“Now that’s how you fill up a little bird,” Slade says with a dark grin. His other hand is jerking himself off and Dick squeezes his eyes shut when cum splatters over him. “Just a hole to be stuffed.”
“Oh fuck,” someone says reverently above them, and Dick can’t make out who.
“That’s all you need, isn’t it, little bird?” Slade says lowly, softly. His muscles ripple as he clenches his fist tighter and Dick can’t help the soft moan. “To feel something inside you, stuffing you open so much that you can’t even think of closing again?” Dick can’t move. Dick can’t think. Dick can’t breathe. “You just want to be filled, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Dick opens his mouth—to beg, to deny, to protest, to cry—and Slade shoves his arm an inch further. It’s all it takes to undo Dick, a thrust he can feel in his skull, as he curls up, clenching and arching as much as he’s able as he comes, entirely dry.
He’s trembling, he’s shaking, the world is ringing in and out as he vibrates on a high he can’t come down from. He can feel Slade’s arm slipping out, inch by torturous inch, and when Slade’s knuckles press against his still-throbbing prostate, the world ceases to exist.
Dick comes back to soft kisses—a cheek, his forehead, below his lashes, on his nose. “I have you,” Slade says quietly in breaks between the touches, “I’m here, I have you.” Dick realizes he’s clinging to the man, fingers curled trembling-tight in the man’s shirt. “I’m right here, Dick, you’re okay.”
Dick presses closer, tucking his head below Slade’s chin. The older man’s arms tighten as he presses his cheek to Dick’s head. “Right here, little bird,” Slade says, a quiet reminder.
Slowly, surely, the trembling quiets.
“Water?” an outside voice asks and Dick huddles further against Slade. He’s dimly aware he’s covered in a blanket. There’s the crinkling of plastic and the rim of a water bottle nudges Dick’s lips.
Dick cracks open his eyes and ascertains that Slade’s the one holding it before he opens his mouth. The water is cool and refreshing and soothing. Dick shifts in place in Slade’s lap as the man is handed another water bottle by Apollo, and frowns lightly when he feels a dull pressure inside of him.
“It’s a plug,” Slade correctly interprets his expression, “So you aren’t empty. You can take it out when you shower.” Dick relaxes and rests his head back against Slade as he glances around the room.
Constantine and Tiger are bickering over something in the paused movie, while Apollo is hovering near the fruit trays and Midnighter crouches in front of him. “Hey, Dick,” M says quietly, “How are you feeling?”
Dick sips at the water while he considers a response. It’s the floatiness that comes after overwhelmed, after he’s resigned himself to the storm tearing him apart, after it floods him completely and utterly. “You hit hard,” he pouts.
Midnighter chuckles, “You wanted me to hit hard.”
“So?” Dick grumbles. His ass is going to be sore for days. He’ll be walking with a limp.
“Brat,” Midnighter teases, affectionate, and Dick lets him feed him chopped pieces of strawberries and pears. When he’s done, Dick drops back against Slade, exhausted in the best way.
“Shower?” Slade asks, and Dick nods. “Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?”
Dick pushes himself upright to stare Slade in the face. “I’m sorry,” he says levelly, “Did you just ask me to walk?”
“I regret it already,” Slade groans, straightening up with Dick still in his arms.
“Walk,” Dick repeats, narrowing his eyes, “Why don’t you take a couple of fists up the ass and then you try walking and—”
“Shh, little bird,” Slade hums, and it’s enough to make Dick subside. Slade carries him all the way to the bathroom and sets him on wobbly legs in the shower. “Clothes are on the rack,” Slade says, turning the water on and testing the temperature, “Do you—”
“Stay.” Dick’s fingers are curled into Slade’s shirt and something tight is in his throat at the thought of Slade leaving.
“Of course, little bird,” Slade says softly, and Dick melts bonelessly against his bulk.
Slade goes slow and easy, soap sliding slick across his skin, holding Dick up with ease. He continues the kisses, nibbling on Dick’s collarbone when he eases the plug out of him, and Dick groans when it comes out, leaving him achingly empty but in the best possible way.
“You’re mine,” Slade says, bending down to his lips, “All mine.” Slade is always possessive after the group scenes, and Dick expects him to be hard and devouring and dominating—and is pleasantly surprised at the gentle, sweet kiss.
“All yours,” Dick whispers back.