Chapter Text
"Ahh, this is fucking hopeless!" Thomas sighed dramatically once he was backstage.
He just got off from a live TV interview that went tragically. Instead of asking about his plans or ideas for the future of the country, the interviewer only pestered him with questions about his personal relationship with Burr, and a rumor that apparently spread from Twitter, claiming he had a secret lover in France.
"Maybe, if you didn't get visibly angry every time you were asked a stupid question, they wouldn't egg you on so much," James Madison, Thomas' best friend and campaign directior advised.
"What am I supposed to do, smile and nod while they're bullshitting me on live TV?!" Thomas argued.
"Yes! That's what Burr is doing, and look how well it works out for him! People are making compilations of his 'highly professional reactions' on YouTube!" Madison tried to explain.
"He only does that because he doesn't have anything of value to say anyway! I'm not Burr, I won't sit there and talk flowery nonsense for two hours!"
"But Burr's model sells, and yours doesn't! If we don't do something quick, you'll votes will fall flatter than a tortilla!" Madison wiped his forehead with a napkin. Sometimes leading Jefferson was like babysitting a twelve-year-old brat. "The press already declared you emotional and sensitive, if you prove them right it will only damage your already failing reputation!"
"What am I, a victorian woman with hysteria?! Ugh, James, we've been over this...! I'm not going to act like Burr, I could never overtake him in his own game anyway!" Thomas reminded his friend, while he mindlessly scrolled his own Instagram page, just to do something with his hands. "I need to make my own game!"
As he fidgeted with his phone, he scrolled down years of posts, going back to the times when his page mostly consisted of selfies from parties and cabinet meetings. And one person kept showing up over and over again in the background in that signature, stupid green coat: Alexander Hamilton. Out of curiosity, Thomas opened the comments to see if anyone else noticed the man popping up in the corners of his selfies like some sort of discount creepy pasta. And, while only a handful, there have been comments making note of the pattern. One read: "lol, Hamilton staring again! It's so canon, #jamiltonforlife".
"Whaaaaa-" Thomas mumbled as he saw the comments.
A ship? Really? Well, it was probably ironic, that's just a thing people on the internet do... Unless...
"And I have an idea how to make this work!" Thomas announced, and promptly stood up to leave the room without any explanation where he was going.
"Oh no," Madison sighed.
It was a short trip to the scrappy apartment the infamous Alexander Hamilton recently relocated to. No wonder for the downgrade though: the five year long divorce battle drained him of almost all of his money. Coupled with the loss of his son in a shooting accident, neither the public or private life of Hamilton was even close to the shine it once had. Over the last few months the man had tried to jump back into politics, but with no supporters, no money, and no mentor, he had more chance of becoming an astronaut than reclaiming his political career. Which all explained why Hamilton opened the door in his pajamas, and smelled of whiskey, despite it being 2 PM.
"You," he said when he saw Jefferson.
"Yes, me!" Thomas smiled cheerfully.
"What do you want?" Hamilton was already over this meet-up before it even began.
"I want to buy you dinner! Like old times, remember?" Thomas said vaguely, hoping Hamilton would understand the reference that unforgettable dinner they once had when both of them were still young and thought they owned the world.
Hamilton looked suspiciously at the man standing in his doorway. He knew Jefferson too well to not realize there was an ulterior motive to this visit. But on the other hand, why would he give up a free meal? It's not like he could lose anything at this point...
"Fine. Come in!"
"Awesome!" Thomas grinned, as he tried not to be bothered by the mess in Hamilton's home.
"I'll just have to shower real quick. Where are you taking me, anyways?" Alexander asked.
"Our usual place," Thomas said mysteriously, as if they dined together multiple times in the past (they didn't).
"Sure," Hamilton officially decided he does not care about whatever nonsense-pills Thomas is on, and will just enjoy the opportunity.
While Hamilton was getting ready, Thomas decided to look around the place. There was trash and dirt in every corner - clearly Hamilton did not care enough to clean. But there were even more framed pictures on almost every table and drawer in the apartment: mostly of Philip, Alexander's lost son, some others with Eliza, the ex-wife, and a few with all the family. It was sad, but also charming in a way... Thomas never knew Alexander had such a soft side to him. Previously, he only knew the man through work, where he found him to be aggressively competitive, hot-headed, stubborn, and brilliant. All traits Thomas ultimately respected, but never liked all that much.
"He looks so sweet on that one, doesn't he? Hopeful..." Alexander said from behind Thomas when he noticed his visitor looking at a picture of Philip.
"Yeah. Such a shame," Thomas noted quietly before turning around, back in his upbeat style. "You ready?"
"Isn't it a little early for dinner?" Alexander questioned.
"It's early for drinking too, but that hasn't stopped you, has it?" Thomas sassed back, then he grabbed Alexander by the arm, and pulled him out of the apartment.
Most of the meal went by with surface-level chitchat about the summer weather, the beautiful garden area of the restaurant, and current pop-culture events. Nothing of value, and this stalling made Alexander more and more nervous by the minute. But he didn't want to jump the gun, so he entertained Thomas' detailed monologues about the marigolds he was planning on planting in his front yard. However, by the time they got to the desserts, Hamilton couldn't wait anymore.
"Alright, now will you tell me what you want? I doubt you showed up seeking my dazzling company!"
"Sure," Thomas put down his ice cream spoon. "I think you know my popularity is on the decline, thanks to your old friend, Burr."
"Burr is not my friend!" Alexander corrected.
"Neither is mine. I won't let him drag me down into the pool of mediocrity he crawled out of! Unfortunately, he's popular, too popular. I need bold strokes, isn't that something you used to say?" Thomas circled the topic like a strategic cat around a mouse.
"I still do. Even though bold strokes haven't been working in my favor lately..."
"Well, we could turn that tide. Now, I have an idea, but it is crazy, so just hear me out:" Thomas finally got to the point. "What if the two of us pretend to date? Publicly, I mean."
"Hah, that is crazy!" Alexander was blown away. "No way, man, no way!"
"Come on, I bought you dinner, so just listen a little!" Thomas asked. "We would make some social media posts where we appear together, show up on press events, and so on. And when the media starts to speculate, we announce that we're together! Go out a few times for the paparazzi, then once I won the election, we would break up! Easy-peasy!"
"And how would this help our cases at all?" Alexander was still skeptical, but he couldn't deny he was interested.
"Simple: for me, an openly gay relationship would win me the left leaning crowd, which is quite a lot of people. Truthfully, there isn't an actually reputable candidate who would represent the more liberal ideologies. Lot of people sympathize with those, and Aaron 'Talks out of his Ass' Burr hasn't quite convinced them," Thomas explained. "And for you: being related to such an important and talked about person, (me), would put you back on the map. I could open the doors for you again. Isn't that what you want?"
"Right..." Alexander said as the thought through this. "Two questions: one, what if this turns into a scandal?"
"Why would it?" Thomas raised his eyebrows. "I'm not married, you're now also not married, our story will claim something like, uhh, we tried to reestablish a friendly relationship as you stepped back into the world of politics, and in this stressful last months we found comfort in each other's arms, bla, bla, bla. Trust me, the press will eat it up! I may have some flaws, but nobody can tell me I'm not good at making spectacles. And if anyone tries to argue with us, we'll just pull the homophobia card, and all their claims will be nulled. This is a fail proof plan.
"Two: how will we sell this? It's not like anyone will believe two straight men suddenly fell for each other for no reason!" Alexander argued.
"What?!" Thomas gasped. "Bitch, I am gay! Now you offended me, we're done!" he dramatically stood up, and started walking away from the table.
"Hey! Don't leave me!" Alexander ran after him. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know! Please don't leave me with the bill!"
"Okay, Alex, but you have to promise, you'll listen to me! I got this!" Thomas turned back.
"Fine. I'm in, you're the boss!" Alexander nodded.
"Perfect! Ah, it's the greatest plan I have ever thought of!" Thomas patted himself on the back as he took Alexander's hand and lead him back to the table to finish their desserts.