Work Text:
Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Alexander watched as George walked out of his home office after only having just entered without saying a single word. Confused, and worried Alexander quickly follows the other man off down the hallway. “George?”
“What?” The response is far to snipish for nothing to be wrong, which is anxiety inducing. He’s angry. The unhelpful part of Alexander’s mind supplied.
“Are you upset with me?” There’s a hint of vulnerability that bad it been anyone else, or even daytime Alexander would have never let slip into his voice.
“A little bit.” George admits yet to turn around and face him, the only indication he is even listening being his responses.
“Oh.” The word is less properly pronounced and more breathed. The hurt is still able to tint the word even if Alexander isn’t fully sure he said it. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” George challenged, finally turning to face Alexander.
“Whatever it is I did to upset you.”
“How can you possibly be sorry for something if you don’t know what it is?” Another challenge. Pushing Alexander’s buttons maybe, looking for a fight possibly. Alexander isn’t sure.
“Don’t leave.”
“What gave the impression that I would?” It’s George’s turn to be thoroughly confused, the statement followed with furrowed eyebrows. “Alexander I’m annoyed you're working late for the fifth time this week and it’s Friday, why do you think I’m upset?”
“Dunno.” There’s a halfhearted shrug. “Your mad at me and mad means leaving.”
“I’m not mad.” George interrupts. “Annoyed? Yeah, but I’m not mad at you and I’m not going anywhere. Just come to bed? Please.” Alexander looks down the opposite end of the hallway where he knows his computer lays abandoned and then back at George.
“Alright.” He concedes. “I’ll come to bed.”
“Good.”
When they are tucked away into the far too large bed (even for the two of them plus the cats) George softly mumbles reassurances he’s not going anywhere until Alexander drops off into a dreamless sleep.