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Chapter Text

If one were to ask Alexander, his affair with one Thomas Jefferson was not a big deal. Not really. Sure, he was married to George Washington, the man whose very presence seemed to corrupt the room he was in into feeling unworthy of him, but that didn’t seem to be a reason for him to stop. Stopping anything wasn’t Alexander’s strong suit, anyway. He was sure as hell talented at starting things, though.

He was the one to start the affair. Thomas had been spitting words at him all day, soaked in venom and sharp as fangs. Alexander only noticed what people thought secret, after all, so when he grabbed Jefferson by the collar, dragging him into his office and locking the door, everyone else had simply laughed. They had all assumed that the two men were headed for another argument, debating the night away, staying far past office hours and nearly forgetting that they would need to return home later. Thomas has assumed the same but was quickly proven wrong by the very man he had been preparing to fight.

Their words were not harsh, as their beginnings had always lacked the precision and speed of later parts of their conversations if one could even call them such a thing. Their fights would take place in any place of the office- in Washington’s office, in the conference room, and on one memorable occasion, a ski resort lobby. Almost always, though, Washington was there to pull Alexander out of his trance, pull the man back into reality and bring him to the safety of his embrace (once they were in private, of course). But this time, this time was going to be different. Everything is different behind locked doors.

Typically, Alexander would stalk toward the taller man, so much so that their chests were almost touching, his dark eyes staring up at Thomas’s. He would be sporting a snarl, upper lip curled as he spoke with such a tone that any rational person would be cautious of. Thankfully, Thomas Jefferson had no sense of caution when Alexander was around- he only held back what he knew must be held back.

Alexander Hamilton, however, didn’t hold back as he reached up, pulling Jefferson’s face down as their lips crashed together, with the taller man’s eyes widening in shock, causing him to yank himself up from the embrace and stumble backward a few steps. His arms wrapped around his chest, which rose and fell with such speed that he was afraid his racing heartbeat was easily heard by the other man. Alexander simply stood still, one eyebrow cocked up in unmistakable amusement at Jefferson’s expression.

“I- you- we… We just…” Jefferson stammered focus darting from the carpeted floor, to the ceiling, to Alexander’s hand perched on his hip, to the corners of the room and to anywhere other than the piercing gaze of Alexander Hamilton, eyes like a void that swallowed up any sort of light they came across. “You kissed me.”

“No, really?” Hamilton retorted, sarcasm lacing the stars that twinkled in his voice, the light being seeped out by his eyes, still so sharp and unforgiving. As though he knew something that Thomas would never even dream of considering. As though the very idea that the other man sought further clarification of what had happened was foolish. “I thought that you accidentally fell on my face with your face. You wanna do it again, or what?”

“You’re married!” Jefferson pointed out, his voice thick with desperation, the thought of ‘please, please give me a good reason to say no to kissing you again’. Who needs to care for the feelings when such emotions could corrupt hearts so easily? Certainly not Thomas Jefferson, not while he was fully conscious. “You’re married and I’m married and we shouldn’t be doing this because it’s wrong and you love Washington and I love James and if I have an affair, it won’t be with you, of all people!”

“So you’d rather have an affair with someone else?” Alexander mused, a flat smirk on his face, inspecting each of Jefferson’s movements with such care that his motivation was undeniable to even those unable to hear his words. Every step was noticed, the way his gaze darted around the room, the speed of his breaths as each new thought raced through his uneasy mind. Alexander, keeping his expression carved in stone, took a step toward Jefferson. “Who would you rather I be? John Laurens? You know, he doesn’t bottom. Won’t even consider it. And the way he sucks dick? God, I’d rather be blown by a hairdryer.”

At Thomas’s look of slight disgust at the very idea of such a thing, Alexander took another step toward him, still smirking in his odd way as he continued to speak. “Not Laurens, huh? What about Lafayette? You’ve probably wanted to fuck royalty, and you’d get that with him. But the thing with Lafayette is that he’ll never be able to accept anything less than true love. You’d break his heart unless you gave up your precious little marriage with James. After all, marriage isn’t anything more than a set of rings and a little piece of paper that makes your taxes cost less. Did your husband ever say that you couldn’t have sex with anyone else? I bet not since he’s just-”

“Leave my husband out of this!” Thomas interjected, with not nearly as much spite as he would have liked to have in his voice. Something about it reached out for Alexander in desperation, hoping for the embrace of a man that he tried so hard to mask his longing for. Lust and love were not mutually exclusive, and yet Alexander was trying to make the point that lust could be followed while still following a different love. And as much as Thomas wanted to deny such a thing, he was almost wrapped around the other man’s finger. Almost as much so as the gold band around his own ring finger, glinting in the artificial lighting of his office. “I… I don’t want this. I don’t want to be with you. We’re married to other people, and that’d be wrong. Unlike you, I have morals, Hamilton.”

“Really?” Hamilton asked skeptically, looking up at the other man through half-open eyes. At his own words, he pulled himself away from Thomas and headed to the door to the outside, clicking the lock so that anyone could open the door if they pleased. He returned his sharp gaze to that of Jefferson’s, and stepped away from the door, gesturing toward it dismissively as he kept his eyes trained on the taller man. “Leave, then. Leave and tell my husband that I came on to you and that you weren’t interested. Tell your precious little husband that you didn’t want this, tell all my friends how much of a slut I am. Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the other man, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest at the very thought of ruining another man’s life in such a way. Surely, he could just leave the room and keep quiet about what had happened. Even with such a rivalry as the one Hamilton and Jefferson kept against each other, he wouldn’t do such a thing. Hamilton’s husband was their boss, anyway; it wouldn’t end well for either of them. What would Washington think, anyway? Would the man even believe him for a singular moment, or would he resent Jefferson for being the one good enough for his own husband, the man who had married him?

Jefferson had attended their wedding. It wasn’t in a church, as he had thought it would be with a man such as Washington. No, instead, it was in the vast backyard of Washington’s Mount Vernon Estate. The summer heat had been stifling, but in those moments where they spoke their vows and whispered silent promises to each other, it was almost like a strange sort of nothingness. No man stood in Alexander Hamilton’s way- not even time itself. Jefferson had offered a murmur of congratulations to Alexander at the reception and left far before it would have been expected of him.

In times such as those, Hamilton had almost made him forget. Forget the way his body longed for a man such as him, and remember that Hamilton had someone already. That Hamilton was happily married- and in a way, he still was. He was just propositioning Jefferson for an affair that he believed to be completely moral. Alexander Hamilton was, after all, known for his morals, which typically went against Thomas’s own.

None of that mattered when Thomas ran forward, locking the door and picking Alexander up by the hips, pressing him against his desk and grinding against him as they lost themselves in their fiery kiss.

They ignored the rise and fall of their chests, breathing heavily with fluttering heartbeats that reminded them of how wrong this was. Who needed to be wrong when being with Alexander felt so damn good?

Chapter Text

So maybe Thomas Jefferson had made a terrible, horrible mistake.

He tried to ignore that, though. Instead, he buried his face against the dark raven locks of Alexander’s hair, which was left down so rarely that it seemed a wasted opportunity to not enjoy the way he looked. It formed the strangest sort of halo around him, not golden like that of a saint- no, Alexander Hamilton couldn’t be considered a saint in any way. Instead, it framed his cheeks like the dark aura of a demon, pulling Thomas down into the depths of hell. And fuck, did hell feel incredible.

After their first night together, bodies moving together in the half-darkness of their office at night, Thomas hadn’t been quite sure of what Alexander had wanted out of their night together. Afterwards, he’d been pushed out of the office and hurried to his own, holding his briefcase tightly to his chest despite there being no one else in the building at such an hour.

He swung the door to his office open and shut it tightly, making sure to click the lock, as though someone would burst in and inform him that they were well aware of what he’d just done- with his enemy, no less. Setting down the briefcase, not caring of the papers that fell to the floor in the process of such action, he collapsed against the side of his desk, head in his hands and tightly pulling at his own curls. He’d just had sex with Alexander Hamilton, who was married to their boss.

He was married too- fuck. He was married to James, and he loved James more than anything in the world and he’d betrayed James’s trust so quickly and without a hint of guilt throughout the entire process. James hadn’t kissed the way Alexander did. James’s kisses were sunrises, with red streaking across the sky and shining in your eyes, causing you to close them. A sense of something sweet filled you, and he held you close like the last bits of night holding onto the darkness of the sky.

Alexander kissed like fire, not sunlight. Fuck, did it feel good to be burned like that. The thing about fire, though, is that once it’s gone, you’re never truly sure that it will return to you again. It’s what keeps children from parting with their night lights. It’s why some people are content to sit still and flick on and off a lighter in their hands, cupping the flame in their palms to protect it from outside winds. So who was to say that Alexander would want to be with him again? Furthermore, who was to say that Alexander wasn’t simply doing this to have blackmail against his enemy, a man he’d gone on record to say was nothing more than the dirt beneath his shoes?

Now, though, with Alexander laying still in Thomas’s arms, he supposed that his panic had been for naught. If Alexander was the fire between his fingertips, then he supposed that he must have been the smoke twirling up into the air. He had been ashes, before, something used and broken and staining the earth he spoke on, but once set aflame, he knew he was destined for something greater. He knew that he was destined for Alexander. And though the other man hadn’t even suggested such a thing, Thomas knew -he just knew- that Alexander felt the same.

How could he not?

That would be simply, purely impossible- especially after what Thomas had done for Alexander. His Alexander. His Alexander had done such a good job at keeping their love a secret. Every holiday party, every work retreat, every group outing for drinks after work, Alexander hadn’t even spared Thomas more than a sideways glance. Instead, he stayed by his husband’s side, sometimes resting his head against the other man’s shoulder in quieter corners, or holding his hand inconspicuously. Thomas could never figure out how Alexander had mastered his technique.

In almost all of those instances that Alexander was so perfect with, Thomas couldn’t keep himself from checking on him every once in a while. He would mask it as picking small fights, baiting him for a useless debate of heated conversation. How Alexander was able to be so close yet so far away from Thomas so often like that, he’d never be able to understand.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Alexander murmured, turning himself over and pressing his face against Thomas’s chest with a soft, tired hum of contentedness. They’d spent the night at a hotel for a ‘convention’ that they’d been assigned by Washington. Alexander’s room was three floors up from Thomas’s- Thomas simply hadn’t gotten off the elevator on his floor. No one knew them here. No one would be able to know that they weren’t together- they both wore wedding rings, and glanced at each other every few moments in the too-long elevator trip. They didn't speak, though. They both knew better than to speak to each other before their ‘meetings’. Some nights, they’d stay until morning, and others they’d part ways after a quick shower and redressing. Thomas preferred nights like last night- ones where he could wake up with his love in his arms, held close and safe. Safe from a marriage full of nothing more than names and titles.

“Can’t help it when I’m with someone like you,” Thomas teased, pulling away from Alexander slightly and caressing his cheek with his left hand, running his fingertips against the smooth skin that his lips had trailed down so many times. Not nearly enough for his taste. He could never leave marks on Alexander, not ones that Washington would be able to see, and not ones that would make James ask where he’d been all night. So instead, he did his best to remember. Remember how Alexander’s lips felt in each kiss, how Alexander’s heartbeat was soft and steady as he slept each night, how warm he was in Thomas’s arms before he had to leave as to not raise any suspicion.

“Y’r hand is warm…” Alexander hummed quietly, opening his eyes slightly, squinting in the early morning sunlight as he tugged Thomas’s hand from his face and inspected it for a moment. “...Why’d you take off your wedding ring? I didn’t take off mine, you don’t hav’ta do that for me, m’okay with it…”

“I… I left James…” Thomas whispered in return, gazing down lovingly at Alexander, his whole world, his everything, the only thing he’d ever need- who cared if he got together with someone so soon after the divorce. Let people talk. He’d have Alexander. He’d have everything he would ever need. “I left him so that we could be together. You can leave George- I found a nice law firm that would love to have us. It’s got a decent reputation, and it would take no time for us to work up to being partners there instead of associates. I love you, Alexander. We can finally be together.”

“Oh, Thomas…” Alexander replied softly, breathing slowly to keep himself from crying for the other man. “Did you really ever think that I loved you?”

Chapter Text

“I’m here,” James announced, walking through the front door with red eyes from crying and voice sounding so utterly defeated. “I have alcohol, and I’m pissed as fuck. You got a bottle opener, right?”

“I-James, what are you doing here?” Washington asked, turning around from his spot at the kitchen counter, setting aside his half-peeled carrot and walking over to the man that had just walked into his home as if they shared it together. He took a few steps toward the man, but quickly stopped when he saw the tear tracks on his cheeks and double six packs of some craft beer. James’s hair stood up at odd angles, some curls hanging limply over his forehead and doing nothing to distract from the pained look. “Christ, you look terrible. What happened?”

“Don’t get all high-and-mighty with me,” James spat, voice reeking of some strange liquor, and feet stumbling toward his boss in uneven, half-drunken steps. His eyes were narrowed in spite, and his mouth contorted into something of a scowl and three-quarters of a sob. “You know what he did, and he did it with him, of all people! I shoulda known better, shoulda seen the signs, but no, I was a fucking idiot! And now he’s gone at that damned hotel and fucking his cares away because I wasn’t one of the things he cared about! Why wasn’t I enough for him?! Why the fuck did Thomas think that… that he could…”

“Jemmy,” Washington sighed, realization dawning over him as he took the alcohol from the man and set it on the counter, leading him to the dining room table, only one setting having been placed for that night. “I thought things were going fine with you and Thomas. And while I don’t exactly support your way of coping with all of this, I can understand why you feel so broken up about this. That’s no excuse for your actions, but I can overlook them.”

“You’re still wearing your ring, too, you can’t pretend you aren’t hurt,” James retorted, tears welling up in his eyes as he did his best to keep his tone even, trying not to further disappoint the only person able to comprehend what he was going through. “You’re wearing your wedding ring and so am I, even though our marriages are over, and we’re going through the same damn thing so you can stop lying and get drunk with me.”

“You look like you’re already drunk, James,” Washington pointed out, furrowing his brow at the man’s mention of his ring. His gaze darted down to his left hand, the gold band still wrapped around his ring finger and shining in the low light flooding out from the kitchen, unlike when the overhead chandelier was lit above the table. Of course it was still there, why wouldn’t it be? “I have my ring on because Alexander and I are married, but you apparently broke up with Jefferson, or at the very least had a bad fight with him…”

“I didn’t break up with him,” James spat, running a hand through his short hair and leaning back in his seat as his feet hooked on the legs. “Thomas gave me the divorce papers last night, and he told me everything. I know all about what happened, and that they’re running off together, you don’t have to put up the act for me. Thomas even showed me pictures, when I didn’t believe him. They…. They took so many pictures together, and since the other loves his writing so damn much, there were too many damn words. Wish Thomas had just left me, insteada sending me all those screenshots…”

“James, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Thomas cheated on you, and I’m sorry about the divorce, but it’s for the best if he was cheating on you. Now you can find someone who makes you happier, and Alexander and I will gladly let you stay in our guest room until you find a place to stay,” Washington assured the other man, smiling sympathetically. His smile, however, was quickly shifted into a look of confusion as James pulled out his phone and brought it to his text conversation with his now soon-to-be-ex-husband, setting the phone on the table.

“I guess he didn’t tell you yet,” James muttered sharply as he saw Washington’s expression at the sight of his husband doing very explicit acts with none other than Thomas Jefferson. “At least you know, man. Sorry to ruin your last moments with loving him. Would give anything to have those with Thomas again…”

“...James?”

“Yeah?”

“Go get the bottle opener. I keep it in the silverware drawer.”