Chapter Text
Alexander Hamilton definitely does not want to be here. It’s loud, he barely knows anyone, and in all honestly he should be studying. But Lafayette dragged him here, literally. He's pretty sure it should be impossible to fit this many people into Hercules Mulligan’s tiny house, but apparently it’s fine. Within thirty seconds of arriving, Alexander searches out the comfiest spot, grabs a can of Pepsi, and resigns himself to sitting there for a few hours doing absolutely nothing.
Truth be told, he loves to people watch. Especially when there's alcohol involved. From his spot in the living room he has a clear line of sight to the front door, which is helpful. He recognizes a few people that come in: James Madison, Charles Lee, Thomas Jefferson, John Laurens-
Wait.
“Shit,” he whispers to himself, practically jumping off the couch and making a beeline for the kitchen. “You've gotta be kidding me.”
The only people in the kitchen at the moment are Jefferson and Madison, and the latter leaves as soon as Alexander flies in. He takes a moment to compose himself and slow his breathing, snatching a water from the fridge and downing half of it in one go. He hears Jefferson snicker, but he's used to it at this point.
“I’m gonna go get a drink, guys!” Laurens shouts.
Alexander freezes. “Fuck.” His eyes flicker to Jefferson and back to the kitchen door at least three times. He knows he doesn't have an escape route, so he concocts an even better plan, as long as Jefferson goes along with it.
“Jefferson,” He says, trying not to sound too desperate.
“Hamilton. Something wrong?”
“No time for small talk. Listen. Jefferson, I need you to kiss me.”
The look of shock on Jefferson’s face is almost enough for Alexander to lose it and begin laughing right there.
“You need me to what? Why would I-”
“Please. Just kiss me. Make it look real, too, if you can. I’ll explain afterwards. Although I probably won't have to,” he finishes with a shrug.
“‘If I can’. You underestimate my ability.”
“Then prove me wrong, and make it fast.”
Jefferson just smirks and then dips down, capturing Alexander’s mouth in his own. His hands find their way to Alex’s hips, pulling him flush against Jefferson’s body. Alexander throws his arms around Jefferson’s neck just as Laurens comes through the door.
“Oh shit, sor- Alex?”
Alexander makes a noncommittal noise in response to Laurens, too caught up in Jefferson’s mouth to even comprehend what's happening. He winds a hand into Jefferson’s mass of hair, attempting to pull him closer, and man is he good with his mouth. Not that Alexander would ever admit that out loud to anyone, ever.
Their kiss continues for minutes after Laurens leaves the kitchen, both of them surprised to realize that they're enjoying themselves. Jefferson pulls back first, breathing a tad heavily, and gives Alexander a wondering stare. Then he shrugs, dips his head back down, and latches his mouth to Alexander’s neck. Alex gasps loudly, grip on Jefferson tightening as Jefferson sucks harshly on the pulse point in his neck.
Jefferson pulls back just as Alex thinks his knees are going to give out. Alex gives him a questioning glance.
“For good measure,” is all he gives for an explanation. “Now, are you gonna tell me what the hell that was about?”
Alexander blushes. “John’s my ex… I didn't want him to see me here alone, y’know? Seemed… pathetic?”
“More pathetic than getting someone who doesn't even like you to make out with you?”
“Damn, I thought you were actually gonna be nice for a change. It's a good thing you're pretty, Thomas.”
“It's a good thing you're smart, Alexander.”
Alex rolls his eyes and goes to leave. Halfway out the door, he turns. “You're still an asshole, and I still hate you.”
“Right back at’cha.”