When Gray, Rogue and Natsu get home from work, Sting is waiting for them.
"I can't believe all three of you stole my socks." Sting stands in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, pouting slightly as he looks at his boyfriend's feet. All three of them are wearing brightly colored, patterned socks covered with cupcakes and donuts and video game characters. "All of you! You guys are the worst."
"Hey, we didn't take all of them," Natsu protests. "You have like… ten pairs of fun socks!"
"Well, I can't find any of them," Sting pouts, relenting a little when Gray comes up behind him and kisses his neck. "And your socks are boring," he says to Gray. He wriggles his toes in the plain, dark socks he's wearing as if punctuating his point.
"Did you check the laundry?" Rogue asks, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a beer.
"I'm not dumb," Sting grumbles, leaning back and kissing Gray on the cheek. "I checked everywhere! I even went up and asked Beatrice if they got mixed in with her stuff, which reminds me, she DID find something of yours-" he looks pointedly at Natsu "-that I had to do my best to explain away as 'dress up clothes' for the kids." Sting nods toward their room.
Natsu raises an eyebrow, then peeks through the doorway, where a set of red, lace, thigh-high stockings are laying on the bed. He laughs, rubbing his face.
"Sorry, babe." Natsu kisses Sting's cheek, then slips past him into the kitchen, dumping out his lunch kit next to the sink. Sting rolls his eyes, hopping up onto the counter and grabbing some of Natsu's leftover carrots.
"Which is-"
A loud meow interrupts Sting, and the four of them turn to the living room to see Frosche tear out of the bedroom, claws catching in the carpet as she yowls and dashes around the corner. There's a thump and a squeak, and then she returns, diving under the couch and hissing at something.
"What's up with your cat?" Natsu asks, elbowing Rogue in the ribs.
"Oh, so now she's my cat," Rogue mutters, moving into the living room and crouching down to peek under the sofa. Frosche lets out a pathetic meow and Rogue laughs.
"Well, I think I found the problem," he says, sticking his arm under the couch and tugging out a reluctant Frosche – along with several brightly-colored, balled-up socks. Sting gasps, jumping down from the counter and grabbing one of the socks. Frosche swipes at it from where she's trapped in Rogue's arms.
"So, your toys aren't enough for you, huh?" Sting says to Frosche, unballing the sock to reveal a pattern of pineapples on a bright pink background. "You're stealing my socks now?"
Frosche meows at Sting and he sighs, scratching her behind the ears. She purrs happily, rubbing her head against his fingers.
"I think we need to vacuum under the couch more often," Gray comments as he crouches down, pulling several more socks out from Frosche's hiding space. "Hey, these are mine!" He frowns at Frosche as he unravels a blue pair with little cats on them that Sting gave him for his birthday.
"Sneaky little sock thief," Sting mutters, still petting Frosche as Gray tosses out several more pairs. By the time Gray's done, nearly ten pairs of socks are sitting in a pile on the floor, and Gray glares up at Froche.
"You're kind of a jerk," he mutters.
"Hey, don't talk to my cat like that," Rogue says mildly, kissing Frosche on the head before setting her down on the back of the couch. She jumps down onto the floor, trying to bat at one of the socks before Gray shoos her away.
"Guess we'd better get a lid for the laundry basket," Natsu says, sitting down on the couch. Happy, who had been sleeping on the pile of blankets, immediately saunters over and plops himself down in Natsu's lap. "At least you don't steal socks," Natsu says, bopping Happy on the nose.
"No, he just barfs up hairballs in the middle of the bathroom rug," Gray mutters, collecting the pile of stolen socks and taking them to the bedroom. He grabs the second, empty laundry basket and sets in on top of the full one, hopefully preventing Frosche from stealing anything else.
Then Gray turns, and his eyes are drawn to the lace stockings lying across the bed. He bites his lip.
"Hey, babe?" he shouts.
Three voices respond with, "Yeah, what's up?" Gray laughs.
"Sting," he clarifies. "C'mere a sec."
Sting pops into the bedroom and before he can ask anything, Gray kisses him, dragging his fingers through Sting's hair and pulling Sting in tightly with a hand on his ass. Sting makes a soft sound, melting against Gray and bringing both hands to Gray's waist.
"Found some socks for you," Gray murmurs against Sting's lips. He pushes Sting gently until Sting's knees hit the bed and he falls back onto his elbows, staring up at Gray with a confused look on his face.
Gray grins, moving on top of Sting and grabbing the stockings, then pressing the fabric against Sting's chest. Sting's eyes widen and he looks up at Gray.
"Those are-"
"Natsu's, yeah," Gray says, reaching down and brushing his fingers over Sting's belt buckle. Sting swallows. He's seen Natsu in these stockings before – fucked him in them, too – and it was hot as hell, but Sting had never considered wearing them himself.
"I'm not-"
"You'd look so pretty in them," Gray murmurs, leaning down and nipping at Sting's earlobe. Sting tips his head back and moans as Gray presses kisses down his neck. "Wanna try them on for me, and we can put on a show for the other two?"
"F-fuck, yes," Sting gasps, dragging his fingernails down Gray's back.
"Good boy," Gray whispers, unbuttoning Sting's jeans, and Sting is suddenly very, very glad that Frosche is a sock thief.