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If there was one place that Hamilton hated being, it was up against the wall. The room was starting to get dim as the sun sinks below the horizon and the few candles in the room can only do so much. Hamilton is sure that it was just past noon when Washington locked them in the small meeting room.
Thinking back on it, locking them up together could really only have two outcomes. They were going to strangle each other, or they were going to solve their differences. Except there seems to be just one more unforeseen outcome.
The cabinet meeting had gotten...heated, to say the least. Both him and Jefferson leaning over the table with raised voice and flushed faces. It was over the neutrality he knows that Washington has to side with him on. After all, their new nation is still too weak to get in the middle of a fight like that, anyone with eyes could see that.
Except Jefferson. Jefferson’s stupid clouds his eyes too much to see obvious things like how much the new nation needs a strong central government or the fact that the United States would get crushed if they got involved in a war between European superpowers.
Washington let them argue for a while, until they seemed ready to exchange blows. Hamilton was about to hop over the table and rip that stupid outfit Jefferson has on to pieces. But their leader’s commanding voice easily cut through both of theirs, silencing them both before ordering them out of the room. He thought that it was just a time to cool off before they came back to resume the meeting. But, instead Washington had taken them to a small meeting room to ‘talk out their problems like adults’. Of course, neither of them took kindly to being locked in together.
At first they were silent, sitting as far away from each other as the minimal seating the room allowed while glaring at each other. They managed to sit like that for an hour, silently communicating their hate through their finely honed passive aggression skills. Jefferson broke the contact to glare out the small window, seeming to find something as offensive as Hamilton in the trees and bushes outside the White House.
Hamilton on the other hand, was completely relentless in his glaring and hatred. He stared at Jefferson even when he wasn’t being looked at. After a little bit of time, just sitting still and using the power of his hate to distract himself wasn’t enough. His leg had started bouncing and his fingers started tapping on the arm of the chair. The tapping sound was small, but the quiet in the room made it sound like he was punching the wall.
“Will you stop that, Hamilton? Or has bottling up all your idiotic comments made you feel the need to annoy me in a less direct way?” Jefferson’s words were biting as always, and Hamilton didn’t have to see the other man’s face to know the expression on it. One of contempt and hate, as always.
“If you didn’t have to make such a big deal out of seeing the obvious and admitting that you’re wrong about helping France, then we wouldn’t be in here in the first place.” Alexander’s own words hold the same amount of fire as Jefferson’s own.
As expected, this exchange gave to quite a few arguments. They fought about everything and nothing at the same time. Everything from the color of each other’s outfits to the arguments about France to their states. They had insulted just about everything about the other that could be insulted as well.
At some point during the exchange Hamilton had hopped out of his seat, stomping his feet and gesturing wildly in his anger. Jefferson took a bit longer to get as riled up as Hamilton, as usual. Alexander just happened to have more of an explosive temper that Jefferson was so good at drawing out of him. The walls of the small room echoed their yelling back at them, and it’s a wonder someone didn’t break down the door to make sure that they weren’t killing each other. They might’ve, in all honesty. If they hadn’t reached the third outcome of locking the two of them in the room.
“God Jefferson! Do you even think before talking? Do you have any kind of brain to mouth filter? Or do you just spew out whatever asinine thing that comes to mind?” Hamilton took another step back as Jefferson took a step forward, as they had been doing for the past few minutes.
“At least I have some kind of thoughts in my head. You on the other hand, are a dimwitted, scrawny, unintelligent fool. The only reason you’ve gotten anywhere in politics is because Washington likes you so much for whatever reason. I can’t see why anyone could possibly enjoy being around you for more than five minutes. I can’t stand you for five seconds!” Jefferson stomped forward again, his head angled down slightly and his arms crossed over his chest.
There’s another thing Hamilton hates so much about Jefferson. The fucker has to be stupidly tall. Being tall, right there in front of everyone. The absolute nerve of Jefferson to be taller than him is probably one of the worst insults to Alexander. Who gives Jefferson the right to just stand there, being tall? Fucking ridiculous. Absolutely appalling.
And with one more step Hamilton’s back is fully against the wall, leaving him with nowhere else to go. He can’t duck away from Jefferson without practically admitting defeat. He’d be breaking their line of sight and he would be shying away from Jefferson, running away and then he wouldn’t with the argument and Jefferson would see it fit to gloat. And, if there is one thing that Hamilton will never easily give Jefferson the power to do, it’s gloat.
“Back up Jefferson. Being this close to your massive ego is giving me a headache. Or maybe it’s your gaudy clothes.” Even as Hamilton speaks Jefferson is leaning down, closer and closer and he has to take a deep breath to keep himself steady.
With Jefferson this close, Alexander can’t help but notice how nice the taller man’s lips look. Or how he could lose himself in the deep, dark color of Jefferson’s eyes. He also can’t help but notice that Jefferson is close enough for him to feel the other man’s breath on his face. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Jefferson had to speak in the most sultry voice that he has ever heard.
“Make me, Alexander.” Jefferson says just above a whisper, and then having the nerve to lick his lips.
There is a beat of silence, a moment of completely stillness and quiet between the two. But then their eyes meet, and Alexander snaps. He reaches up and grabs Jefferson by the front of his shirt, dragging him into a kiss.
It’s not a sweet kiss by any means. There’s teeth and growling, biting each other’s lips as they both struggle to take control of the kiss. Jefferson’s hands manage to find their way to Alexander’s hair and they tug it free before blunt nails dig into Hamilton’s scalp.
Alexander on the other hand, is too busy clinging onto the front of Jefferson’s shirt, both hands crumpling the fabric and keeping Jefferson down on his level. It’s better to give the taller man a sore neck than him having to get up on his tip toes. The room seems to fade into nothing as he just focuses on how much he can’t stand Jefferson.
He’s only kissing him to shut Jefferson up of course. Not because of any actual attraction. No other motive except for giving himself a moment or two of quiet. Just as planned.
They don’t move much, except for Jefferson pushing himself flush against his body. After a couple more seconds, they pull apart, both of their faces flushed as they gasp for air together. Soon enough Hamilton has regained his breath, being used to getting it back quick after long winded arguments, and he speaks first.
“I completely and utterly despise you, Thomas.” He tightens his grip on Jefferson’s shirt as he speaks, keeping the taller man mere inches from his face.
“The feeling is completely mutual, Alexander.” Jefferson replies before going in for another kiss, this one just as vicious as the last. They do move this time though, stumbling over to the love seat in the room. Jefferson lays down and lets Hamilton lay on top of him, the smaller man barely being a weight on Jefferson.
Once they pull away again Jefferson is the first to speak, looking up at Alexander with hooded eyes.
“I’ve never met someone so annoying in my life, Alexander. No doubt the most annoying one in the world” He says as he reaches up, being the one to pull Alexander down this time instead of the other way around.
“I can assure you, Thomas, you take that title from me with ease.” Alexander says before letting their lips meet again, eyes closing as he relaxes.
Yes, Alexander Hamilton despised Thomas Jefferson like no other.