Work Text:
••••
There was a frantic knock at Thomas's door. Thomas rolled his eyes and peered up at the clock hanging on his beige wall. 10 PM. He assumed he was just hearing things, since he couldn't think of a soul that would be out and about at the time, especially his quiet, peaceful neighborhood in the pouring rain.
The knock echoed through the halls of his home oncemore, so he set down his tea on the coffee table and stretched out his arms.
As Thomas approached the entryway, the banging continued.
"I'm coming, jesus christ--"
As soon as he turned the knob, a short, sopping wet figure crashed into him and fell to the floor.
"What the hell!" Thomas shouted staring down at his clothing that was now splotched with water. However, his eyes veered towards the man on the ground, covered from head to toe in mud, blood, and rain.
"Hamilton?" Thomas asked. Alexander's eyes twitched around the room in fear.
"Shut the door." Alexander spat. He held his left arm and winced as more blood seeped through his coat.
"What happened? What are you doing in my house--" Thomas began, but cut himself off when he heard voices shouting.
"He ran this way. Look in every alley. 'Won't be surprised if that fucker is cowering away in one of them. "
"He'll bleed out soon anyway."
Hamilton's eyes widened as he heard the men speaking to each other.
"Are you deaf? I said shut the door!" He cried.
Thomas snapped out of his initial shock of the whole ordeal, and complied to Hamilton's pleas.
He scanned over Alexander's frail body. He had clearly been beaten and scratched badly, and that was only what Thomas saw on the surface. He began to walk towards Hamilton with one of his arms outstretched, but the man flinched, and his breathing grew louder and more frequent as he crawled away from Thomas.
"No, no, no, Alex. It's okay. You're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you." Thomas reassured him.
"We need to get you to a hospital--"
"No! They're out there. You can't do this to me. Please." Alexander begged, and for the first time in Thomas's life, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Alexander made eye contact with him.
Eventually, when Hamilton seemed to have calmed down a bit, Thomas ran into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.
"Where are you going?" Alexander asked when he left the room, his voice laced with a hint of fright.
"Don't worry, I'll be right back." Thomas called back, soon returning into the brunette's general vicinity.
He spilled the boxes contents out onto the floor and crouched down in front of the man.
"Can I take off your coat?" Thomas asked, and Hamilton thought for a moment, but nodded. Thomas was conscious of Alexander's left arm as he shook the jacket off of his body. Alexander was wearing a thin short-sleeved, undershirt which clung to his body, and it's pale color revealed the severe bruises and gashes in his tanned skin.
"Oh my god." Slipped out from Thomas's mouth as his eyes were glued to all the open wounds on his chest.
"Alex, I--"
"Don't call me that. I don't want you're pity. I'm just a weak, whiney man-child according to you."
Thomas winced. He did accidentally call Alexander that in an argument a few days ago...
"Hey, you're tougher than I'd ever be in your situation. If someone lightly shoved my shoulder, I'd be crippled and bed-ridden for months."
Alexander fought back a smile as he scoffed.
"Let's just get this over with." He spoke, unbuttoning his shirt.
Thomas had wrapped his left shoulder, cleaned up most of the man's wounds, and a lot of the bleeding had stopped, but then came the hydrogen peroxide. Thomas poured the liquid onto a rag and hovered over a large wound on Alexander's chest.
"Okay, so this is going hurt," and before Alexander could protest, Thomas pressed the rag onto his skin. "A lot."
Alexander curled in on Jefferson, and clenched the back of his shirt in his fists.
"Thomas!" He nearly moaned, and Thomas's heart began to claw out from his ribs.
Thomas never liked his name. Far too common and plain, he'd concluded long ago. However, He hadn't heard Alexander use his name when he decided this. Now, Thomas thought it sounded quite nice rolling off of Hamilton's tongue.
Alexander clapped a hand over his mouth as tears from the pain (and most likely embarrassment) clouded in his eyes. He slapped Thomas's arm away and slid backwards against the wall.
"Erase that whole incident from your memory."
"Alexander, I can't just e--"
"I said forget it right this instant!"
Thomas let out a laugh and motioned for Hamilton to crawl back over towards him.
"Fine, fine. Come here. Your wounds are going to get infected."
Alexander shook his head frantically. Shakily standing up, he grabbed his coat and tried to step past Thomas, who quickly rose to his feet.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving. I've embarrassed myself far too many times, and in front of you." The word 'you' dripped from his mouth with such hatred that it actually stung Thomas.
"After all I've done for you?" He asked. Thomas was really trying to help Hamilton. He was trying to set aside their differences for once in his life to show Alexander that he was a generally kind person that he could rely on in dire circumstances.
"Don't put yourself on such a high pedestal. You haven't done shit. All you're keeping me here for is to find something to publicly out me for. What's the headline gonna be, huh? 'Distressed Hamilton Shows up on Jefferson's Doorstep, Begging for Him to Tend to His Fatal Injuries'? Just, fuck off already." Alexander seethed.
That's what made Thomas snap.
"Fine, go out there and die. You'll get yourself killed sooner or later with that awful attitude of yours."
"I think I put up a pretty good fight earlier. I can do it again."
"Oh really? Look at yourself, Hamilton. You're beaten to a pulp and you can't even walk."
Alexander whipped his head around, but Thomas shoved him against the wall next to the door.
"You're so fucking annoying, I'd rather die than spend another minute with you." Hamilton spat up at the taller man. He put his hands on Thomas's chest in an attempt to push him away, but the man didn't budge.
"You're all bark and no bite, Hamilton."
"You don't care about anyone but yourself."
"You're one to talk."
"You're absolutely pathetic. All you ever strive for is fame and attent--"
Thomas had had it with throwing shitty insults back and forth. In some spur of the moment way to shut Hamilton up, he craned his neck downwards and crashed his lips into Alexander's.
Hamilton hands froze, and everything was peace and quiet in the neighborhood again.
However, to Thomas's utter disbelief, Alexander's small hands slid up to Thomas's hair, and kissed back.
Thomas's brain then caught up to his actions, because all the blood rushed to his face when he realized he was kissing Alexander fucking Hamilton.
Thomas calmed himself down to the best of his ability in these few moments, and eventually pulled away nonchalantly.
Hamilton was staring up at him with wide eyes, and honestly Thomas was trying his best not react the same way.
Thomas smirked despite the emotional terror that he was going on his head.
"Just sit down already."
And for once, Alexander did as he was told.
•••
After a frenzy of flying limbs, and Thomas having to literally pin Alexander down on the floor to successfully treat his injuries, Alexander and Thomas both sat up, completely out of breath.
"My god, you're so stubborn. I'm not even going to try to see your legs at this point."
Thomas panted. He scanned over Hamilton's body, examining all the un-bandaged skin that revealed bruises which had formed in the hour from when he had crashed through the door to then.
Thomas frowned, saying, "I'm going to get you dry clothes," before exiting the room, and reappearing with a stack of the pajamas that he knew were much too small on him.
Alexander cautiously grabbed hold of the sweater and sweatpants.
"Seriously, Jefferson, why are you being so nice to me? All I ever do is use you as a punching bag." Alexander said weakly, looking up at Thomas with large, heavy eyes.
"There's always at least some good in the shittiest of people." Thomas replied, grinning widely.
Alexander rolled his eyes. "Gee thanks. Can you turn around now? I need to change."
Thomas complied. He heard the rustling of clothing and mumbles of dissatisfaction echo from behind him.
"Fuck."
"What?" Thomas asked, about to run to Alexander's aid.
"Don't. Turn. Around." Alexander growled.
Despite Hamilton's pleading, Thomas spun around.
"Oh my god, Alex." Thomas gawked at the scene playing out before him.
Alexander was back-first on the wood, with one fabric-clad leg in the air, and the other bare one on the floor. The sweater was much too big for him, and he was desperately trying to roll down the sleeves to get a better grip on the sweatpants. His eyes were round and wide as he registered Thomas's sudden presence. He sulked down into a ball on the floor with his hands covering his face.
"I've never been so embarrassed in my whole life." He groaned.
"It's okay, I'll help you out." Thomas replied.
"No! Stop!" Alexander screamed. He scrambled away from Thomas. Though he acted serious, he looked absolutely ridiculous with his pants half-way on. Since the kitchen was just a few feet away from where he had originally been sitting, he crawled under the table.
Thomas waited for the boy to peek back out, but he stayed there for quite a while. There weren't any rustles or silent curses. Thomas eventually walked over to the table and knocked on the top of it.
"Alex, are you okay?"
"Don't call me that." He breathed shakily. He sounded watery, and his voice cracked in between the sentence.
"What's wrong?" Thomas said.
"Go away. I'm sorry to intrude but I'll be sleeping under here tonight. I hope you don't mind."
"You're not intruding..." Thomas trailed off as he heard a sniffle come from beneath the wood. He knelt down and saw Alexander curled in on himself with shaking shoulders. Apparently, he had thrown off the pants in the process of crawling under the counter, and he sat with his bruised, bare legs up to his chest. If Alexander hadn't been upset, Thomas probably would've laughed. But he stifled his rude nature as he smiled crookedly at the boy.
"Why are you sad?" Thomas asked, but soon regretted his choice of words. Of course he was sad after getting beaten senseless and embarrassed in front of his rival.
"I'm pathetic. I can't fend for myself, or run just a bit farther to my own house. I'm annoying and so arrogant that I'll start a fight without thinking of the consequences. And now, I'm pouring my heart out to you, of all people. Fuck, I can't even put on a pair of pants."
He wouldn't lie, everything he said was true. And he wouldn't deny his heart cracking a bit again at the way Alexander spoke of him. Of course, it made sense, but Thomas wouldn't deny his attraction for Hamilton either.
"Come here, Alex." Thomas cooed, grabbing the sweatpants from beside the sobbing man. He stood up and held a hand out under the table.
Alexander lifted his head up from his knees. He quickly wiped off his face with his sweater sleeves, and ran his fingers through his hair. He climbed out from under the table, and hoisted himself up with Thomas's hand.
Thomas enjoyed Alexander's light grip on his hand, but the heat soon disappeared. Alexander bowed his head, as he clenched fists at his sides.
"Just because you need help, doesn't mean you're pathetic. It means you're an actual human being, believe it or not. You can't get through everything in life on your own." Thomas explained while flapping out the pants, he held the leg holes open and croutched down.
Alexander seemed to realize what Thomas was doing, so he stepped one foot in, followed by the next. Thomas quickly yanked them up to Alexander's waist.
"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Thomas asked. He reached forwards to cup Alex's cheek in one of his hands. He brushed the stray pieces of hair away, lifting his head to take in his soft features.
Alexander was wide-eyed and red-faced, as he had been most of the night. His cheeks were stained with tears, and his reddened eyes were slightly puffed.
"I'm sorry for being irritating and mean." Alexander said softly, adverting his eyes away from Thomas.
"Oh Alex, if you weren't, I wouldn't find you as adorable."
Alexander frowned. "I try to be serious for one whole second, and insulted is what I get in return."
Thomas laughed. "But you're s'cute!" He squealed as he squished Alexander's cheeks together.
"Get off of me, you freak!"
"Never!"
Hamilton tried to back up in order to escape his grasp, but he crashed his spine into the table. Jefferson immediately let the man's face go as he reached for his waist. He intended on keeping Hamilton from falling over, but apparently he had pressed down onto the wound scortching his lower back.
"Fuck, I said don't touch me!" He yelped, pushing Jefferson away.
"Sorry, Sorry." Jefferson urged, putting his hands up in defense to show Hamilton that he was done rough-housing.
Alexander reached for his back and winced in pain as he brushed against the wound.
"Does that hurt the most?"
"Yeah. They aimed most of their boots there."
Thomas offered a sympathetic smile, but Alexander brushed it off.
"Don't pity me."
"Your mood swings are insane."
••••
After feeding the boy a sandwhich, making him tea, and cleaning up the dirtied floor, Thomas suggested that Hamilton should probably wash himself off.
It took a lot of arguing, but he finally got Hamilton to 'agree' with taking a bath. Sure, Thomas had cleaned him up well, but his hair had dried blood and dirt in it, and warm water would relax his muscles. He brought up these points, but Alexander didn't care.
So, agreeing to this bath really meant Thomas carrying Hamilton up the stairs as he flailed about in his arms and clawed at his face, before dropping him in the tub.
"I hate you!"
"Yeah yeah, we've already been over this. Do you need help taking your clothes off?"
"I just put them on!"
"A.) you mean I put them on. And B.) that was two hours ago."
"Fuck you."
"I know. I suck." Thomas said calmly, gripping the bottom of Alexander's shirt and lifting it up and over his head.
"I'll leave you to it. Just call out for me if you need anything." Thomas instructed, before he strode out of the bathroom. He heard the faucet turn on after a few minutes, so he assumed that was a good sign.
He waited outside the bathroom awkwardly for the remainder of the time. He took these moments to figure out what the actual hell he was doing.
He made out with Hamilton, fought with him, and comforted him all in the span of a few hours. The whole night was just a complete haze to Thomas, almost like it was a crazy dream.
What concerned him most was the kiss. Was it a one time thing? Will he act like nothing happened? What did Alexander really think of him? Did he think that Thomas was nice, or cruel?
He couldn't put his finger on it. Alexander's thoughts were always skewed all over the place, and Thomas simply couldn't walk around in the boy's abstract mind to find every answer that he craved.
It was either ask him directly, or wait for him to show how he felt.
He truly feared tomorrow morning. He didn't want Alexander to shift back into the introverted writer that would only speak to him during meetings, he wanted Hamilton to be a part of his life. He wanted to get to know Alexander personally. He wanted to kiss him--
Thomas's face heated up. Since when did he fall for Hamilton? His stomach churned as he remembered that Alexander was still in his house
"Alex do you need help?" He questioned as he heard the sound of the remaining water getting sucked down the drain.
"I'd much rather die than let you come in right now."
"What's wrong."
The sound of skin squeaking against cast iron ringed in Thomas's ears.
"Can I ask you something really quick?"
"Anything."
"How did you get so tall."
"Um...genetics?"
"Did it just happen over night?"
"Why are you asking me this?"
"Because if I could just grow...maybe like...7 inches right taller right now, I could escape eternal humiliation."
Thomas stifled a laugh as he heard the slipping sounds once more.
"Alex, are you stuck in my bathtub?" He asked. There was a long pause.
"To put it frankly."
"Can I come in?"
"Thomas if you do, I swear on my life that I will slit your throat in your peaceful slumber, then proceed to do the exact same procedure on every one of your closest friends and family members."
"I'm coming in."
As the door clicked open, Alexander scrambled to get in the least revealing position he could find.
"Get out!" He cried, chucking the closest shampoo bottle at Thomas. He edge of the container clonked him right on the forehead.
"Jesus christ! Alex, calm down!" Thomas snapped as he held his hand to his head.
"Go! Scram, pervert!" Alexander shouted, flinging conditioner, soap, and sponges at him as well.
Thomas simply sighed. He couldn't wait for his neighbors to question the dialogue in this conversation.
He didn't even bother attempting to block all the objects being tossed towards him. He just let it happen until Alexander eventually ran out of things to throw, which didn't take long.
After Hamilton had finished, Thomas scanned over the scene playing out before him. He could only see Alexander's slender fingers curling over the side of the bath and the top half of his head, where his eyes seemed to burn their gaze into his skin.
"Get me a towel."
"Why should I? You just trashed my bathroom."
"Thomas, please get me a towel."
Thomas literally clenched his chest as his name slipped past Alexander's lips. He quickly grabbed a towel from under the vanity and tossed it to Alexander, who immediately wrapped it around his bottom-half.
Thomas walked over to the short man sitting in the giant bath.
"You're so cute." Thomas subconsciously gawked. His cheeks reddened as the words tumbled from his tongue.
"Shut the hell up." Alexander responded.
Thomas snaked one of his arms along Alexander's back, making sure he didn't brush against any wounds. He slid the other hand under the brunette's legs, and lifted him out of the tub.
"Thanks." Alexander spat as he wobbled to a stand.
"Like I said before, you don't have to be ashamed to ask for help, you know." Thomas chirped.
"Don't turn this into a life lesson."
Alexander retorted as he wrung out his hair onto the rug.
Thomas's smile faltered a bit, and Alexander clearly noticed. He wondered if Alexander would ever atually take any of his words to mind, or if he'd just totally ignore them. He wondered if Alexander would ever genuinely thank him for helping him, or would he just continue walking all over him.
"Did I say something?"
"No, it's nothing."
"Should I tone it down?"
"No Alex it's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Rea--"
"Just shut up already!" Thomas barked, but immediately regretted it.
Alexander's eyebrows furrowed, and his gaze averted to the ground.
For a split second, Thomas was angry that Hamilton could get so offended after being yelled at once, after Thomas had been insulted all night. But as he remembered that Alexander was most likely such an emotional wreck since he had recently been beaten in the streets, and god knows what else he'd been through prior to that, he felt terrible for raising his voice.
For once, Hamilton opened up to Thomas like he wanted, and Thomas was too idiotic to realize.
The only person Hamilton trusted not to hurt him in that moment was Thomas, and Thomas totally just threw that trust out the window.
This all hit Jefferson like a train as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut. He wanted to apologize that instant, but he figured he'd give Alexander some time to get dressed.
He sauntered off to his room to get changed. Most of the blood and rain on Alexander's clothing had transferred to his own. He changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, before settling down on his comforter. He picked up his copy of "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" off of the bedside table, before he opened it anxiously. He tried to read the words on the page, but his nerves were getting the best of him as Hamilton took his time in the room just a few yards away from him. He scanned over the pages aimlessly until he heard the door down the hall creak open.
Alexander shyly poked his head out from the room first, and looked both ways.
"Where do you think you're going?" Thomas called out, keeping his eyes glued to the page to avoid any awkward eye-contact.
Hamilton blushed. "I'm going home."
"It's 3 O'clock in the morning."
Thomas expected a snappy remark. 'So what?' 'Problem?' 'What do you care?', but no.
"Yeah." He replied.
"Come here, mon chéri."
Thomas silently gasped in horror as he called Alexander the petname that was written in his book. Of course, with his awful luck, his brain started processing the words right then. And of course, Alexander understood french.
Thomas was already plotting his suicide when he heard a quiet shuffling approach his room. Soon enough, Alexander's fingers held the side of the door as his head hesitantly peeked out from behind it.
Thomas let out a small breath of relief, mentally thanking the author of his book, before he motioned for Alexander to come to him.
Surprisingly, Alexander didn't argue. He slowly stepped towards the side of the bed, head bowed and eyes to the ground.
"I'm sorry for getting angry with you." Thomas apologized, placing his book back onto the table. "Please stay for the night. I don't want you getting hurt again."
Alexander nodded curtly before spinning around to leave. Thomas grabbed his wrist before he could get any farther.
"I meant sleep here." Thomas urged.
"No."
"Please? I won't touch you. You can sleep on the complete opposite side of the bed."
"Never." He claimed, but he didn't seem to be trying to escape anymore.
Thomas chuckled, lightly tugging the boy to him. He made sure that Alexander could rip his arm away if he really didn't want to stay with him.
"My darling." He whispered as he pressed his lips to Alexander's hand. He truly had no idea where this sudden confidence was coming from.
"Thomas, stop." Alexander whined.
"You're so beautiful, Love." He mumbled, rolling up his sleeve and pecking the sensitive, bruised skin all the way up his arm.
Thomas took advantage of this moment for as long as he possibly could, since Alexander seemed to be giving in.
He soon pulled Alexander onto his lap as he continued to gush over him.
"Gorgeous." He purred into his neck, and began planting tiny kisses onto his jaw line.
Alexander burst out laughing when Thomas reached his ear.
"Stop! It tickles!" Alexander cried, trying to pry himself from Thomas's grip.
Thomas laughed with him, pressing more soft kisses to his small earlobe. Thomas came to the conclusion that he wouldn't mind hearing Hamilton's adorable giggles for the rest of his life. However, he pulled away from the side of his face to do what he'd been wanting to for the second time all night.
He examined Alexander's smooth features and large, almond eyes. His gaze swept down to Alexanders lips--
"For christ's sake!" Hamilton cursed, interrupting his train of thought, and crashing his mouth onto Thomas's.
Their lips moved in perfect synchronization. Alexander had maneuvered his legs to straddle Jefferson's waist at this point, and Thomas ghosted his fingertips up the back of the brunette's shirt. Jefferson smiled as Hamilton lightly nibbled on his bottom lip.
Thomas finally broke away to catch his breath, but Alexander grasped the back of his neck and yanked it forwards again.
"Alex," Thomas laughed as Alexander shamelessly poked his tongue into the taller man's mouth, "cool it."
Alexander flinched away quickly. "I'm sorry, Did you not--are you not--"
Thomas hushed the stammering mess of a man Alexander had become in the past few seconds.
"No, no. I'd love to take this further, but you really need to rest. You'll recover faster that way."
Alexander nodded shyly, and slid off of Thomas's thighs to the opposite side of the bed. He found a spot as far away from Thomas as he possibly could.
Thomas sighed.
"Hey," he breathed, patting the sheets closer to him. "Come here, Sweetheart."
Alexander rolled over and eyed Thomas suspiciously.
"You said you wouldn't touch me and that I could sleep on this side when I first came into the room."
"Well I already broke one of those promises, why not break another?"
Alexander nibbled on his bottom lip nervously. He was clearly shaking.
"Alex you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you. You look freezing and I would love some company...but it's perfectly okay if you want to stay over there."
Alexander thought for a moment, but soon scooted over next to Thomas. Thomas wrapped his arm around his waist, quickly asking if it was okay to touch him. Alexander nodded.
Thomas engulfed Alexander's little body with his own. He felt the smaller man shudder in pleasure at the sudden heat in his embrace.
"Why are you so scared of me, Love?" Thomas asked. Silence initially replied, so Thomas assumed the brunette had fallen asleep. However, Hamilton clenched Thomas's shirt in his fists.
"I forgot what it felt like to be treated nicely." Alexander responded.
Thomas went to bring his hand up to the side of Alexander's face, but Hamilton slapped him away.
"And I know that tomorrow we'll go back to the way we always were, and it's going to be terrible. So I'm just going to live it up while it lasts."
Thomas frowned down at him.
"We don't have to go back to being rivals at all times. We can still tear each other apart at work, but here we can be different. I'm already willing to be yours, so it's all up to you." He spoke into the man's hair. He was interally proud of himself for choking those words out without slipping up or getting too embarrassed.
Alexander sniffled softly. And then again. And again. Thomas sighed and hugged him closer.
"Alex. Baby, don't cry." Thomas cooed as he stroked Alexander's hair.
"I'm sorry," Alexander cried into the taller man's shirt, "for everything."
"Alexander, look at me." Thomas pried, but Hamilton held his head in place.
"Look at me, please."
"No, I don't want you to see me like this." He mumbled
"Since when do you care about how terrible you look?"
"Since--" Alexander cut himself off.
"Since what?" Thomas jeered, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Since...I started liking you." Alexander muttered breathlessly.
"And when was this?" Thomas quirked an eyebrow.
"A while ago. Now just shut up about it and let me sleep."
"When?"
"Thomas please just shut up about it."
"Seriously, when? I can't pinpoint when you stopped acting like an asshole."
"This is not making me feel any better about myself." Alexander grumbled into the fabric of Thomas's shirt.
"Okay, okay. I'll stop bothering you. Goodnight, Alex. I love you."
Thomas wasn't given a response, but he eventually felt Alexander relax in his arms. He noticed how Alexander slowed down his breathing pattern in order to match Thomas's before he fell into a deep sleep. Thomas wondered if that was his first time sleeping in days.
The older man, lifted Alexander's limp head to examine his features. There were dried tears streaking his cheeks, but there was one striking detail about his face that put Thomas at peace.
His lips were curled into a soft smile.
Thomas pressed one last kiss onto Alexander's forehead, and finally let his eyes flutter shut.