ex-strangers || a jeffmads fic

chapter nine

jefferson.

"If Angelica skips out on her own party I swear I'm sueing you, Laf," Thomas snapped as he fixed his collar in the mirror on the inside of his car. Lafayette was in the passenger side, texting his boyfriend.

"She's not gonna skip out, mon ami. Hey, did you know Hercules has never seen ze movie Hercules?" Lafayette responded, distracted.

"Gil, why the fuck would I care about that?" Thomas finished fixing his shirt and hair in the mirror and flipped it back up. "I'm going in. When you've finished texting your boyfriend, go inside and talk to him in person. It'll be crazy." He leaned real close to Lafayette, grimacing. "It's like a Skype call, except they can't hang up on you."

Laf swatted him away, and Thomas finally retreated from the car, standing straight. As he entered, he passed some girls smoking cigarettes outside of the Schuyler home. He had smoked partially through high-school. It was in his mind to start again; but it seemed too risky and he dropped it.

Thomas flashed a charming smile at the pair and they giggled, only boosting his ego further.

This was funny, really. Thomas knew half the girls—or guys—he hooked up with harbored hopes that he'd date them, that they would finally be the one he stuck with. Half of them were like him, there for a hook up, but the other half were stupidly naive. They wanted Thomas for a long time, but Thomas didn't really want them at all.

Cute.

Thomas himself harbored his own, hopes that the cute stranger would be here again. It was obvious cute stranger didn't like parties, but he'd shown up to the last two. He may as well show up here too.

Thomas narrowed his eyes.

There he was.

That had taken a wildly shorter amount of time than Thomas had thought: he hadn't even gotten to flirt with Angelica yet. Oh well.

Thomas had many a chance to flirt with the eldest Schuyler. Who knew when he was going to see him again.

Thomas approached, dark eyes crackling with amber arrogance. "Cute stranger," he purred, tone filled with warm honey. "We meet again."

—
madison.

Holy fucking shit. Holy shit. That's not legal. He's not allowed to fucking do that.

James wanted to die. He want to fucking die, right here, right now. Anxiety surged inside his chest and he almost tripped on nothing. "Hi."

The stranger's grin only got wider. "Nervous? No need to be. You've met me before."

Goddamn. James took in a deep breath as if to calm himself despite all the warnings going off in his head. He's gorgeous. How is he so gorgeous?

"Aha... yeah. I have." How is the hot stranger still standing here while James mumbles sad responses to his words?

James fidgeted, shifting his feet. "I—"

Okay. Nevermind. James supposed he wasn't going to talk anymore, considering his mouth was no longer able to form words.

Hot stranger, for the third time, was kissing him. And nothing was keeping James from kissing back.

—

It had been a week and a half. James was lying starfished on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Hot stranger? Still hot. And he couldn't get him out of his head.

Party after party the pair met up, hilarious but true. James would awkwardly approach and the stranger would sweep him off his feet and send James into complete and utter affection.

He relayed things to his friends, to the sisters and to Maria, to John Laurens who sympathized and to anyone who felt the need to listen. James kept to himself most of the time, but this was something he couldn't keep a secret.

Maybe he'd hoped word would get to the stranger and they'd meet.

Party after party kept James and the stranger meeting again and again, and soon another one made James grow restless.

The night had been a little boring on James' end, and he couldn't see the mass of curly dark hair anywhere in the crowd.

And then, as though a spotlight had shone down on him, James noticed the stranger.