“George? Martha?” Lafayette sinks his teeth into his lower lip. He's slightly worried about what they might say, so he's treading lightly.
“Yes, pet?” Martha speaks up first. He practically glows at the nickname and takes small steps to sit in between them. George slips his hand into his hair and smiles a bit.
“Why must you insist on keeping enslaved people here?” He bites his lip and fixes his eyes on the silk of the dressing gown George liked on him. It was more for a lady than for a gentleman, but he couldn't be too averse to it. It made him feel quite lovely.
“You are well aware that Mount Vernon could not well exist without a large amount of labor. Would you suggest I take indentured servants? Doom the families I own to separation?” George raises and eyebrow as if he's merely entertaining the questions of a small child.
“Indentured servants are hardly better. Why would you not pay your workers? You could free them. Have them educated, perhaps? In trades and such. Freed slaves might be settled to to their own colony, and-” Lafayette is persistent, staring into fiery eyes.
“I have heard enough of this nonsense. To bed with you, Laf.” George's voice is stern, a bit paternal. The younger man sighs and is begrudged to shuffle to their shared chambers.
The issue of slavery and Washington freeing his slaves was not brought up for several months after that. He had hoped that he had pushed the thought from his pet's mind. The theory remained proven. That was, of course, until Lafayette started sending letters to Hamilton once more.
The young Colonel had always had a passion for the abolition of slavery, even more so after he had been acquainted with John Laurens. He was well known for doing his best to spread Laurens’ ideals, even after his death.
But Washington simply could not have his pet's mind poisoned against his business practices. He invited Hamilton and his wife for a stay with them at Mount Vernon, and he would plead that he not speak of slavery and abolition with Laf in the future.
Things never quite seemed to work out the way The General had planned for them to.
Hamilton had arrived a day early. His wife hadn't been fit to make the trip, she was occupied with caring for their infant son, Philip. The Colonel had intruded on a rather unfortunate moment.
“My sweet, you've behaved so well for us today. Here.” Martha breaks off a piece of bread that had been sent to their chambers and dips it into a jar of fruit preserves. She feeds it to the boy, who sucks on her fingers like a babe to its wetnurse's teat.
“Thank you, Madame.” He nuzzles into the skirt of her gown when she takes her hand from him. She smiles and gestures to Washington.
“I believe that our pet has earned himself a treat. Here, boy.” The General beckons him over like he's no more intelligent than one of hounds. Once the Frenchman is settled in his lap, he frees his cock from where it's been confined in his breeches. He gathers a vial of oil from the table next to him and coats his fingers with it.
“It's been a not insignificant amount of time since you've been in this position, so I'll need to take time to stretch you thoroughly. Remember to bear down on my fingers.” George kisses up and down Lafayette's neck and slips a thick digit inside him. The younger man gasps and rocks his hips every so slightly, trying to get his body used to the intrusion once more.
“Two more, little one. Are you certain you can take it? You're quite tight.”
“I show you this. This I can do.” Lafayette groans. His English is slipping, which is a clear indicator of how much he desires this. There are two ways that his struggles with English usually make his owners feel. It's either adorable or alluring. This time it's a strange cocktail of the two.
“Your Excellency?” The all-too familiar voice of Colonel Alexander Hamilton breaks through the air. Washington swears.
“I apologize, Your Excellency, one of the men downstairs said… Oh! Lafayette! I was hoping to see you! I-” He apparently notices the predicament his friend is in and his voice falters. “My God.”
Laf chooses that moment to whine rather loudly. Washington is certain about Hamilton's affairs with Laurens, so it's not as though he could run to the authorities without being immensely hypocritical. Still, he pulls his boy out of his lap and sets him on the floor. He pouts, but knows better than to question his 'Monsieur’ when he's in whatever frame of mind he retreats to during their play.
“Lovely of you to join us, Colonel.” Washington says dryly, tucking himself back into his breeches. He's no idea where to even begin to straighten this out.