Sensible
Thomas JeffersonxReader Word Count: 1706
“Hey Thomas,” you smiled, jogging to catch up with your classmate. He turned around and grinned once he saw you, “Hey Y/N,” he said, “Have you met James?” He asked, gesturing vaguely to the man he was walking with. You shook your head, extending your hand to his friend, “Y/N,” you introduced yourself, the smile never leaving your face, “Nice to meet you.” “James Madison,” he said, grinning. “Where are you parked?” You asked continuing your walk to your car, your breathing laboured on account of your run to catch up with the two men; you weren’t close friends or anything, but you shared your political science class with Thomas and well, he was really cute. Thomas sighed, “End of the lot,” he said quietly, making you chuckle, “Campus is always busy on Wednesdays…” You nodded your head in agreement, “I’m in the end, too,” you said, “Where you guys headin’?” James answered before Thomas had the chance to, “He’s gotta get a 70 on his Literature final if he wants to pass, so we have to study,” he said, smirking. You chuckled, “What prof are you taking it with?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. Thomas sighed, “Raquel Hamschel,” he answered, looking down to his feet as we walked. You beamed, “I took her last semester!” You exclaimed happily, “I got an 82 in her class! I can help you,” you said hurriedly before realizing what you had offered and immediately beginning to blush, “If you want, I mean,” you explained quickly, shaking your head. Thomas smirked, “I would really appreciate that,” he said. You sighed quietly, looking down to your feet, “My friend Alexander’s helping me study for my history final today, though, are you busy tomorrow?” “Tomorrow will be good,” he said, grinning, “We can meet in the library if you want, or you could come over to mine… Whatever you’d like.” You looked up to him and shrugged your shoulders, hoping you were behaving casually, “I can come over to your house,” you said, “Can you text me your address?” He nodded his head, “Yeah, sure,” he said as he and James stopped by, what you assumed was his car, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” “Bye,” you said, awkwardly waving as you hopped into your car. As soon as the door was closed, you shut your eyes and groaned. Why was talking to him so hard? *** “What?!” Alexander exclaimed, his brows furrowed, “Why would you offer to help Jefferson?” He asked, as if you studying with Thomas was equal to eating a rotten egg. You rolled your eyes, “He’s cute!” You explained, “And he needed help, and I did really well in that class!” “Well, he’s an asshole,” he deadpanned, “I hope this session ends with nothing more than a good grade, Y/N,” Alex said, raising his eyebrows at you, expectantly. You looked at him, unamused, “What is that supposed to mean, Hamilton?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “It means,” he said, “That you better not go around, catching feelings or anything; Jefferson’s an ass. I was in debate with him last semester; he argued with me about everything, Y/N. Everything.” You rolled your eyes, “Well, somebody has to,” you said, “And that’s what debate is! Arguing!” “No it is not!” Alexander said stubbornly, before sighing, “Well, I guess it kind of is… But the point is, he’s bad news. He’s a bad person. Would make a horrible boyfriend.” You sighed, exasperated, “Alexander,” you said, “I asked him to study, not to marry me, I’ll be okay,” you said, reaching up so you could ruffle up his hair. He sighed once again, “I’m just warning you,” he said, “he’s kind of an asshole.” “Okay,” you said, “Thank you,” you sighed, standing from your spot on Alexander’s floor, packing up your history books, “I’ll tell you how it goes.” Alex groaned, “If he tries kissing you, I hope you remember this conversation,” he said, walking you to his door, “And I hope you picture me, feel disgusted, then never look at that man again.” You shook your head, “Alexander,” you sighed, “If I felt disgusted when I looked at you, I wouldn’t be your best friend.” “Damnit,” he muttered, “Well I hope that you picture me naked, then.” You chuckled as you shook your head, “Whatever you say, dude,” you sighed, “I’ll see you later, Alex.” *** “Alright,” you sighed to yourself; you had just arrived to Thomas’s house, and were currently sitting outside, in your car, in the cold, “You can do this, Y/N. Just… For the love of all that is holy, don’t be awkward. You can do this, you’re great! You’re so smart, and bright, and you can do this…” Sighing deeply, you grabbed your backpack and left your car and ran really quickly to his front door, leaving little time for the cool winter air to make you feel even colder. With confidence, you knocked on the door, which almost immediately opened. “Hi,” Thomas said, grinning brightly, “Come in, it’s freezing outside.” “Thanks,” you said, eager to feel the warmth of his house to encase you in a hug. Once you were inside, you skeptically slipped off your shoes and jacket. You noticed a pile of books and notes in the centre of his living room, and assuming that was where you two would be working, you made your way in. After a good hour of studying and teaching, you had a sneaky suspicion that Thomas really wanted to take a break, and your suspicion was confirmed when he closed his notebook and said, “I really want to take a break.” You chuckled and closed yours as well, “We can,” you said, grinning, “We’ve done a lot, anyway.” Thomas nodded his head, thankfully, “So how’d the history studying go?” He asked; you hadn’t even thought he would remember. You shrugged, “It was fine; Alexander’s a really good history student, so he helped me a lot. I’m shit at remembering dates…” Thomas smirked, “At least you’re not shit at remembering literary devices and terms,” he said, grinning. “And is that Alexander Hamilton?” You looked up to him, nodding your head slowly, “We’ve lived next door to each other for a couple of years now,” you explained. “I had a debate class with him last semester,” Thomas said, looking nothing but hesitant, “I guess he must behave differently around you than he does me,” he said, obviously trying to think up a situation where somebody could enjoy spending time with Alex. “He’s really nice,” you shrugged, “Talks a lot… Maybe too much sometimes, but I like him,” you said, fiddling with your fingers to keep you distracted. “Oh,” Thomas said, “Are you two… dating?” He asked, awkwardly, making your head shoot up. “No,” you said quickly, probably too quickly, “I don’t like him that much… He’s been smitten with one of my best friends Eliza for months now, anyway,” you explained, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, that’s good,” Thomas mumbled before shooting his eyes up to yours, realizing what he had said, “I mean, it’s not good, I just meant… Well, I mean, I can’t really picture Hamilton being the boyfriend type, ya know?” You wanted to say that Alex had said the exact same thing about him, but decided to keep that part to yourself; instead, you shrugged your shoulders, “He’s a really good friend,” you said simply, “I could never date him, though.” Thomas nodded his head in understanding before trying to change the subject, “Do you want something to drink? Or eat?” He asked, already standing up, extending his hand down for you to use to pull yourself up. You grabbed his hand and stood as you nodded your head, “Yeah, sure,” you said following him into his kitchen. There, he washed you guys a bowl of grapes and got two glasses of orange juice; then, the pair of you sat at his island, drinking your juice and eating your grapes. “Wanna see something cool?” Thomas asked, looking down to you, expectantly. You nodded your head as you popped a grape into your mouth, “Always,” you said, grinning. Thomas chucked the grape he was holding into the air, catching it in his mouth; once it was caught, he balanced it between his teeth, to show it to you. You shook your head, but couldn’t help but grin, “Thomas,” you scolded, “You’re gonna choke!” “No I’m not,” he said, laughing, “I’ve been practicing my whole life, I’m so good at this,” he said, grinning, reaching for another grape. You took it out of his hands, “No,” you laughed, “You’re gonna choke, and I’ve never done the Heimlich before, I don’t know if I can perform it efficiently!” Thomas laughed, taking a drink of his juice instead, “You’re cute,” he said, smiling at you. You shook your head, “Not cute,” you corrected him, “Sensible.” Thomas chuckled, shaking his head, “You’re sensible and you’re cute,” he said, smirking. You grinned, “Thank you,” you said, “You’re cute, too, even though you aren’t very sensible.” Thomas smirked, “Thanks,” he said, grabbing another grape. He began tossing it up, but you hit his hand before he could throw it, making him laugh. “Stop it,” you said, taking the grape out of his hands. Before you pulled your hand away, though, Thomas grabbed it gently. Using your hand, he pulled you closer to him, hesitating before letting his lips press against yours. Before you were able to think twice about it, you leaned up to him, kissing him gently. For such a tall and admittedly rough guy, he was being incredibly gentle with you; his soft and full lips were moving delicately against yours, his hand holding your cheek gingerly, his other hand was still holding yours, the grape long forgotten and rolling aimlessly on the ground. Every place he was touching you, he did it so cautiously and gently, like he believed that you would break if he applied any pressure to your body. When you pulled away, he fluttered his eyes open and a smirk was instantly plastered over his face, “Do you want to go out on a date with me, Y/N?”
