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Summary
When all was said and all was done, they were Thomas Jefferson, the arrogant yet charming, drop dead gorgeous cool guy who, of course, most definitely did not have any feelings for the coworker he was in love with at all, and Alexander Hamilton, the loud, unfiltered god damn beautiful pride of America who always seemed to think he was the smartest in the room. He usually was. They were at each other's throats constantly, crowding in just this side of too close, a few too many lingering touches, stolen glances to really hate each other. And everyone but them knew it.
(This isn’t as angsty as the summary made it out to be I pinkie promise-)