If LeFou had to pick, his favorite thing about Stanley would definitely be the man's hands.
He could stare at it for days; the way the man handled a sword and the most exquisite of fabrics, the way his hands moved when playing with the triplets' hair and how soft it looked while applying his make-up. How fitting it was together with his own.
Manly and elegant all the same.
He loved the way they explored LeFou's body, hungry, wanting to touch every single part of him be it caressing his hair, scratching his back, pulling at his belly or holding LeFou's tights apart, Stanley touched him like like he was a dying man and LeFou was his salvation.
He loved the way they baked in the mornings and how they held the pieces of cake as Stanley hand-fed LeFou the food he had made just for him.
He loved even more how they spread the chocolate onto his skin as they embrace each other on the kitchen table, both laughing at the mess they're making and sharing confessions that tasted like cake and love, neither wanting to let go.
The way they held him close after another soul crushing nightmare.
The back of his hand that was made to be kissed, softly and gently in such a way that never failed to make Stanley blush and smile. The fingertips that helped spread red lipstick over his pale lips as LeFou watched in awe. The wide palms that liked to hold his cheeks in place as they traded kisses.
The fingers that never failed to make him see fireworks.
LeFou looks down at where said hands are right now, tied together and held in place by his own, unable to touch him unless Stanley begged just enough for him to allow it as he teased the younger man, setting up his own pace and ignoring the pleas for more. Going up and down at whim.
"Please—mon cher, please, please let me touch you!"
He laughs, biting his own lips as he slows down to catch his breath. "Why would I?"
The answer LeFou gets is a delicious mixture of a whine and something that barely resembles a phrase, though what was said for sure he couldn't say, as he had been too busy squirming and nibbling at the other's neck and ear.
"Tell me," LeFou asks breathless as his own moans get in the way, "tell me why should I let you?"
He moves up, almost removing himself completely from Stanley, before going down again with all his might.
LeFou's not sure if Stanley was the one to scream or if that was just him. Maybe it had been both of them, it's hard to say.
"Please!"
"Please what?"
"Do it for a kiss?" Stanley begs, his voice needy as he tried to move his hips to chase LeFou's, craving his touch. He didn't need to say twice before LeFou took his mouth with his in a desperate kiss.
It's slow and intense all the same, both melting into one with only a touch, losing themselves in each other's mouths. LeFou plays with Stanley's cravat that's being used as restraint the whole time, teasing but never letting him go, never stopping his thrusts. They break away to breath—both on the edge—and LeFou leans over until his mouth is barely touching other man's ear, his voice a whisper that if not for how close they are would go unheard.
"No."
Stanley's fallen face was enough to make him giggle again, throwing his body up and making him go deeper inside of him. Oh, it was worth it to see that face.
"Just kidding!"
He pulls at the thin fabric, letting the other's hands go free where they immediately grab him by the hips, not taking control over the pace but helping him angle, exploring thick thighs and buttocks like his life depended on it. Knowing Stanley as he does, the man probably felt like it did.
Once they're done and spent, lying on top of each other exhausted and laughing at what they've just done, LeFou only has a second to breath before he feels Stanley's touch go lower and lower and—"Oh!"
Stanley's hands might be his favorite thing about the man, but damn if his mouth wasn't a close second.