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des gants longs, bas résille et le jartelle

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Thomas is still kind of sore that Lafayette won’t move into his apartment with him, insisting on being immersed with American culture which apparently required being stuck in the dorms with everyone else, but they sleep over often enough and have like, half their wardrobe crammed into Thomas’ dresser, so he’s pretty willing to stop arguing about it now. They’d got up earlier than him that morning, gone off to meet Hamilton and co., and Thomas had mostly grumbled a bit and gone back to sleep after Lafayette had come back to the bed to kiss him goodbye. He wakes up an hour or so later, face pressed into the pillow and his arm thrown out over nothing, and groans as he pushes himself up, gets out of bed and slouches off to the kitchen, where he finds his french press is already set up, and thinks he could kiss Lafayette.

 

Not that he couldn’t always kiss Lafayette.

 

He goes back to bed, picks up his phone - there’s a text from Madison, two from Burr, a twitter @ he doesn’t bother checking this early from Hamilton, and a snapchat of Lafayette that’s been taken at the cafe just off campus. Lafayette is wearing a scarf in their hair, yesterday’s eyeliner and, most importantly, Thomas’ shirt. He sends back a selfie, coffee in hand, then puts his phone down and eyes his dresser. Lafayette has left the drawers slightly open, so one of his shirts is sticking out, as well as, oh.

Out of the top right hand drawer dangles the foot of a skin toned stocking. Lafayette doesn’t wear lingerie a lot, so they leave a lot of it at Thomas’ because he’s less likely to fuck with it than their roommates, but Thomas finds himself getting up and going over to the dresser. He picks the stocking up and pulls it out of the drawer, rubbing it between his fingers. He’s always liked them on Lafayette, the smooth slip of them under his fingers, and so he just, tucks his hand inside the opening, curious about what they feel like on. He bites his lip - Lafayette won’t be back for a couple of hours, they won’t know he messed with their stuff- reaches into the drawer and carefully removes the stocking’s twin and the garter belt he knows goes with them, then goes to sit back on the bed. He pushes the sweats he slept in off his hips, leaves his normal underwear on, then picks up one of the stockings, tries to bunch it up in the way he’s seen Lafayette do it, and carefully points his toes and slips the stocking on.

 

He draws it up his calf and feels his pulse speed up. It’s not even a little same as touching them on someone else, the strange pressure of it as it pushes at the hair on his legs, and he pulls it up to his thigh, smooths his hands over the top and shivers. The nylon shines translucent against his skin, defining the shape in a way he’d never have noticed before, clinging at the bones of his ankle.

 

He mostly ignores his dick as he works the other stocking up his leg, and then stands up to get the garter belt on, which takes longer than he’d like to admit, as he awkwardly reaches behind himself trying to fasten the hooks. He’s just about worked out the clasp on the first garter strap when he hears the door open, and he freezes, panicking over whether he should try and get them off or hide but before he can try and make a decision, Lafayette is bounding through the apartment, comes through the bedroom door smiling and stops, mouth falling open.

 

“Oh, Thoma’. ” He feels his face go hot.

 

“I, shit, La, I’m sorry.”

Lafayette just smiles again, walks over to the bed. “Ask next time”, they say, perching themselves next to Thomas and running their hand over the bare skin at the tops of the stockings. He gets goosebumps, his breath shuddering out as Lafayette kisses him. “Do you need help fastening them?”

 

Thomas shakes his head, “It’s fine, I’ll take them off”, and Lafayette hums, then gets up off the bed and kneels.

 

Non, but don’t fasten them yet”.

 

Thomas blinks, “What?”, and they smile slyly, get up and go over to the dresser, and turns back around with a pair of panties in their hand which are pretty much entirely made up of purple lace.

 

Thomas’ eyes go wide, “Oh,” and Lafayette kneels back down and runs their hands up his thighs, drops a kiss on the inside of his knee.

 

“If you must steal my things, you should at least wear them properly”.

Thomas has to bite back a moan, nods and lets Lafayette undo the one fastening he’d managed and push the garter belt up enough to get his boxers off.

They carefully help him into the panties, and Thomas makes a low noise as he works them up his hips, the lace brushing against his cock, “Will they fit?” and Lafayette frowns slightly.

 

“I can’t tuck you if you’re hard.”

 

Oh my god.”

 

Thomas’ voice might have cracked a little, and Lafayette laughs, “Détends-toi, it’s not important if you’re not going out,” and deftly lifts Thomas’ cock until it’s flat against his belly and smooths the lace up over it, and then Thomas just has to sit there, sat back on his hands while Lafayette does up the clasps on the front of the stockings and doesn’t bother with the back ones, and then all of a sudden he’s got Lafayette in his lap, still fully dressed, while he’s in the stockings and lace panties and the tee he slept in and Thomas is dizzy.

 

Lafayette kisses him, hums, “What do you think?”, and Thomas makes a garbled noise and pulls them back down on the bed with him while Lafayette laughs brightly, and he grabs at their hips, bites their mouth.

 

“Please, please.”

 

They put their hands on his jaw, kiss him back softly enough to make him whine, then move their hands to his shoulders and press him down against the mattress

 

Dis-moi que tu veux.”

 

Thomas’ brain is an oozing puddle of anxiety and arousal as he tries to process Lafayette’s voice, “Je ne, I don’t know,” and they fondly roll their eyes at him, shift about and grind their hips down.

 

D’accord. You can come like this, yes?”, and Thomas blinks at them.

 

“I’ll ruin your -”

 

“You’ll buy me new ones. New stockings, too.”  

 

Thomas feels this helpless noise bubble up out of his throat, “La, please”, and Lafayette licks his mouth open, pulls at his arms until they can hold his hands down against the mattress and rut down against him until his toes curl and he arches underneath them. He gasps into their mouth, overwhelmed at the feeling of the lace and the denim of Lafayette’s jeans dragging against his hip bones, and they smile and suck on his lip, drag one hand up his neck and fist it in his hair, and Thomas chokes and comes with an embarrassingly high pitched whimper.

 

He’s trembling as Lafayette kisses his neck, grazing their teeth at his collarbones, and he whines and shoves at them until they fall off to the side giggling and sprawl next to him.

 

“So, do you have a new kink?”

 

Thomas makes a face, which just makes them laugh more.

 

“It’s fine if you do!”

 

Thomas groans and pushes himself up, then swears under his breath as he sees the mess he’s made of the panties, his stomach flipping. Lafayette moves up the bed, and Thomas turns to look at them, propped up against the headboard, their legs sprawled open and looking at them with this fondness that makes him ache, and he crawls up the bed to meet them, kisses the smug little smile off their face, says “Dis-moi que tu veux,” and Lafayette snorts.

 

“Very clever.” They pause, then say, “Come here,” and pulls at Thomas’ hip until he’s straddling their lap, then undoes their jeans and shoves them down - they’re wearing soft cotton boyshorts, already soaked through with precum, and Thomas bites his lip, kisses them as he fumbles to pull them out of the way, then Lafayette is pulling them close so their cock is tucked into the crook of his thigh and -

 

“Oh, shit.”

 

Thomas shudders at the brush against his wet, sensitive skin, and Lafayette tips their head against his shoulder, quietly muttering french curses as they slowly rut up against him, their cock catching on damp lace. Thomas lifts his hands to pull at the scarf that’s already half out of their hair and scratches his nails over their scalp, and Lafayette makes a choked off sound and digs their hands into his hips. Thomas smiles, kisses the corner of their jaw and slips a hand between them, wraps it round Lafayette’s cock and strokes up firmly enough that they hiss and swear and come messily up Thomas’ stomach.

 

He lets Lafayette breathe against his neck for a few moments before moving away and awkwardly undoing the clasps on the garter belt. He makes a face as he starts to peel the panties off, and hears Lafayette say, lazily, their voice softly scratching, “You got come on my shirt.”

 

Thomas sputters, “You got come on my shirt. And on me. Everywhere.

 

Lafayette laughs, leans forward and kisses his cheek. “Fine. You got come on the shirt I was wearing.” They strip it off and throw it vaguely in the direction of the laundry basket. “You, we can wash right away, and anyway” They stand up, stretching like a cat, “you don’t really have, uh. A leg to stand on, yes? Not for borrowing clothes.” They grin, and bend down to kiss Thomas’ mouth before sauntering off to his bathroom.

 

Thomas makes a face, but still takes his time to carefully remove the stockings before he leaves them on the floor and follows.