Thomas wasn't quite sure how the argument had started, but he was fairly certain that it had something to do with the disparaging comments he had offhandedly made about Hamilton's style of dress during the cabinet meeting. Hamilton had trailed him back to his office like the annoying little lapdog he was, yapping away about relevance and appropriateness and neutrality and this that and the other thing.
Jefferson had long since tuned the treasury secretary out, not that he was ever really listening anyway, and was lounging against his (beautiful antique mahogany) desk while staring at the stretch of wall located above Hamilton's head. It was a little barren, perhaps a nice clock could be added-
"Where do you get off on saying shit like that anyway? I don't know why you think you're the best thing America has ever seen. You're not good enough to lick the dirt off my shoe," Hamilton ended his diatribe with a sneer (and a flair). Jefferson froze for a second, but then slowly made eye contact with Hamilton, his lip curling. The lines of his body, previously languid against the desk, became lethal in an instant. Hamilton noticed the shift, and stiffened, although his chin remained defiantly lifted.
Jefferson stalked forward, coming to a stop a hairsbreadth away from the other man. He stared down his nose at Hamilton, who seemed to be trying futilely to grow another six inches, and barked out a laugh.
"You wish that you could ever be worth as much as the shoes I wear," Jefferson rumbled, breath blowing hot across Hamilton's face.
It was like a switch flipped in Hamilton. He relaxed, stopped trying to be taller than he was, and his eyes dropped to the vicinity of Jefferson's neck. His posture reeked of submission, and Thomas smirked. So it was like that.
"Come on, pet," Thomas murmured, "Show me what you're worth."
Hamilton lunged forward, as unflinching in this as all pursuits, and tried to give Jefferson a bruising kiss. Thomas turned his head however, so Alexander's lips landed on his cheek. Not deterred, Alexander peppered kisses across Jefferson's jawline, licked a hot stripe down his neck. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone while greedily running his hands down Thomas' superior, well-toned torso. Jefferson kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, not bothering to return the favor; he didn't particularly relish the thought of his hands on Hamilton's scrawny little body.
Growing bored of Hamilton's attentions, Thomas placed his hand on top of the shorter man's head and pushed down. Alexander sank to his knees with little resistance, breathing hotly over the crotch of Jefferson's slacks. Thomas quirked an eyebrow down at Alexander, who took the hint and latched his mouth onto the bulge where Thomas' dick was resting, half-hard. Hamilton mouthed wetly along the outline, used his nose to trace along the edge. Jefferson felt the dulled scrape of teeth along his cock, and involuntarily flexed his hand where it remained buried in Alexander's hair. Hamilton's eyes flicked up to meet his, and Jefferson could feel the smug smirk Hamilton was pressing in between his legs.
"Enough of that, these pants were expensive. I don't want your cheap mouth ruining them," Jefferson declared airily. He saw Hamilton's face twist and darken at the barb, but he efficiently popped the button and slid down the zipper anyway. Alexander made careful eye contact as he reached into Thomas' briefs and pulled out his cock, gently resting it against his closed lips. Jefferson took his dick into his own hand, rubbing the tip along Alexander's mouth and enjoying the spit-slick slide. He could feel the hot puffs of air Hamilton was exhaling against his cock, and decided to give the other man what he so clearly wanted. He rolled his hips forward, and Alexander opened his mouth pliantly. He curled his tongue around Thomas' dick, finding veins with his tongue and tracing them with the tip. Thomas enjoyed the way Alexander suckled on the head, his tongue digging into the slit and pressing just underneath the crown, but he wanted to watch him gag.
He bucked his hips forwards, forcing more of his cock into Alexander's mouth, and started to thrust at a rather punishing pace. Hamilton's hands flew up to grip his thighs, to ground himself, but Thomas tsked.
"Hands behind your back," he ordered, and Alexander complied easily. He laced his fingers together behind his back, and allowed Thomas to rock into his mouth without protest. He was the picture of docility, and Thomas almost wanted to laugh at the dissonance between this subservient Alex, and the confrontational Hamilton. As Jefferson began to fuck into his mouth with slightly more force, Alexander gave in to the strength and managed to balance himself on his knees, letting Jefferson hit the back of his throat.
Hamilton was clearly practiced, and Jefferson absently wondered how many times before Alexander had done this, how many people he had serviced in this way, but pushed the thought aside to more thoroughly enjoy the way Alex's throat was fluttering around his cock. Jefferson removed his right hand from where it had been gripping the desk and instead tangled his fingers in Hamilton's silky hair. It was coming loose from the haphazard ponytail, and Thomas began to bucked a little harder at the disheveled image Alexander made. His mouth, his damn mouth, was red and stretched out, drool dribbling from the corners of his lips and down his chin. Thomas clenched Alexander's head, and began to force Hamilton's head down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Alexander couldn't get quite to the root of his dick, but he could take an impressive amount, and Thomas quite liked how red his face was getting from lack of air.
"Look at you, how much you love choking on cock," Thomas cooed. He patted Alexander's cheek condescendingly, ignoring the spluttering noises Alex was making and keeping his head forced down on his cock. Thomas took a moment to relish the outline of his dick in Alex's mouth, tracing the line of it with his thumb, before finally letting up on Alex's head. Hamilton gulped down air frantically for a few moments, before Thomas was once more rolling his hips forward to bury his cock in Hamilton's mouth. The shorter man flattened his tongue against the crown of Jefferson's dick, pushing it against his palate.
"You like this so much, don't you? You're such a little slut for my cock," Thomas bit out, fighting against the orgasm that was beginning to race through his veins. Alex fucking batted his eyelashes up at him, before nodding slowly. The movement was just more stimulation on Thomas' dick, and he could feel his balls tightening up. He viciously thrust himself down Alexander's throat once, twice, three more times, before ripping Alex's head off his dick. He took himself into his own hand, jacking his cock in front of Alexander's face. Alex's eyes were trained on the movement, fascinated, and he licked his lips. Jefferson had to actually bite his cheek to stop a moan from escaping at that, and he grunted, "Open your mouth."
Alexander dropped his jaw, placing his tongue out quite prettily, and Thomas finally allowed himself to groan as he came across Alexander's face. Stripes of come landed across high cheekbones, swollen lips, his chin and that damn pink tongue, and Thomas involuntarily clenched his fist in Alexander's hair as he came down from his orgasm.
Hamilton gazed up at Jefferson, chest heaving. Thomas took a moment to admire the way his come shined on Alexander's red cheeks, and the tears that had escaped from the corner of his eyes. His hand loosened in Hamilton's hair, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the kneeling man's scalp.
Then he noticed one of Hamilton's hands sneaking around to palm himself through his pants. Thomas immediately tightened his grip again, Alex yelping in pain, and used his free hand to slap Alex across the cheek. Hamilton immediately went silent, breathing hard through his nose, dark eyes a mix of fury and humiliation and want.
"Don't you dare touch yourself," Jefferson hissed. Hamilton obediently folded his hands together behind his back again, but Jefferson wasn't satisfied. "You don't even deserve to come. But since you're clearly so desperate for it, I'll let you get off. But I'm not going to help you."
Alexander swallowed heavily, nodding in response.
"And don't even think about using your hands, Alexander," Jefferson added with a cruel curl to his lip. Alex squirmed for a minute, and Thomas could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out how to get friction on his dick. He went stock still when he reached the conclusion Jefferson had.
Hamilton fidgeted for another moment, and Jefferson used the hand he had buried in his hair to force eye contact. "You can either get off humping my leg like the little whore you are, or you can go home hard," Jefferson ordered, smirking at the flush that immediately rose on Hamilton's neck and ears. Hamilton tried to paint a defiant mask over his face, like rutting on Jefferson's leg like a dog wasn't degrading, but the hesitant way he shuffled closer on his knees and straddled Jefferson's leg betrayed him. At first, Alexander just pushed his crotch against Thomas' knee, but the friction apparently felt too good on his aching cock. Hamilton gasped like the air had been punched out of him and dropped his head to rest on Thomas' upper thigh. He began to frantically grind on Jefferson's leg, setting a furious pace, like Jefferson might revoke even this pleasure at a moment's notice. Feeling rather pleased with himself for the complete deference Hamilton was showing him, Jefferson tilted Alex's head up so he could watch his face. Alexander's pupils were blown out, so dilated that Jefferson could no longer tell where the dark irises began or ended, and he was actually panting. It was quite an agreeable sight, and Thomas took a moment to soak in the aesthetic of Hamilton being tamed. Then, Thomas hooked his thumb into Alexander's gaping mouth, and Alexander groaned and curled his tongue around the digit.
"So hungry for it, even now, aren't you?" Jefferson growled, pushing his thumb even further into Alexander's mouth. "Not even choking on my dick was enough for you. Bet you just want to spend your whole life like this, on your knees, something in your mouth."
Alexander moaned from somewhere deep in his chest, practically vibrating against Thomas' leg. Even through two layers of clothing, Jefferson could feel Hamilton's cock twitch. Now that simply won't do. Thomas extended his leg completely straight, pushing Hamilton back. Alex struggled for a moment, thrown off balance due to his hands remaining linked behind him, but eventually managed to stabilize himself on his knees once more. Bereft, and no longer humping his leg, Alexander looked up at Thomas with pleading eyes.
"I'm gonna let you come," Thomas said, and he could see Alexander sag with relief. "But like I said before, I don't want a cheap whore staining these slacks. You can grind on my shoe until you come."
Hamilton gazed up at him pleadingly, dark eyes taking up too much of his face, but Thomas was not going to be swayed.
"We both know how much you like being at my feet," Thomas hissed dangerously. Alexander gulped, but spread his knees wide so that he was straddling as close to the floor as possible. Still it wasn't quite low enough to reach Jefferson's shoe, so Hamilton cautiously brought his hands forward to brace himself against the desk. Jefferson nodded, signaling that he would allow him this, and Alexander slid himself back across the floor until his crotch was finally, finally low enough to make contact with Jefferson's shining, Italian-made leather shoes. The surface was to slick to really get good friction, and too small to thrust satisfyingly, but Alexander was already so close to the edge it didn't matter. He rubbed himself along Jefferson's shoe for less than a minute before a litany of whimpers fell from between his lips and Thomas felt his cock jerk a final time. Alexander stayed slumped over his shoe, swallowing down air and riding out his release. Eventually, he straightened up again and scooted back. Thomas saw the slick mess Alexander's come had left on his shoe and sighed.
"Well, you made a mess," Thomas noted with distaste. Hamilton cringed, eyes trained on his own lap, where a wet stain was also spreading. "Clean it up."
Hamilton jerked back, then looked back at the shoe he had just got himself off on. His face blushed bright red, but he shook his head obstinately.
"Come on, Hamilton," Thomas goaded, "You and I both know what a bootlicker you are, anyways."
Hamilton looked down at Jefferson's shoe in complete disgust, glancing back and forth between Jefferson's foot and face as if to ask, are you serious right now? Thomas just raised a haughty eyebrow, nodding down at his shoe. Hamilton gave the piece of footwear one last look of distaste before slithering more completely down on the floor. He kept his eyes on Jefferson's as he ran his tongue over the leather, as if to say you're as sick as me for wanting this. Thomas would be lying if he said he didn't feel a flicker of attraction stir in him watching Hamilton, but he pushed it aside. He let Alex lick over his shoe a few more times, before stopping him with a crisp, "Alright, enough of that."
Hamilton rose up, stretching his arms above his head languidly and cracking his back, before rolling his neck to work out the kinks. Thomas scrunched up his nose. It wouldn't do for Hamilton to make himself comfortable.
"Get out of here," Thomas ordered.
Alexander made a little noise of indignation, but Thomas cut him off before he could work up enough steam for a rant.
"Come off it Hamilton, everyone knows you keep a change of clothes in your office," he said dismissively. Hamilton's mouth twisted up, and he narrowed his eyes at Jefferson. "Of course, getting back to your office without anyone seeing you in that state… Well, that's another matter."
AN: I am crossposting this from ao3, where I write under the name icouldbuildacastle. It was originally posted January 24th, 2016.