Tango

Prologue

Ever since Washington had offered Jefferson a position at the company, Alexander loathed the man. Alex had practically helped George build this firm from the ground up, he had to work for it and everything he ever had, always giving it his all. Yet here comes this pompous asshole, who's had everything in his life given to him on a silver platter, gets the job handed to him, then acts like he's the best thing since sliced bread. And walks around with a cane just for the hell of it. What the hell?

There's nothing Alexander hated more than that attitude. Well... aside from maybe his god awful taste in fashion. The magenta loving fuck.

Now, don't get him wrong - when they had first met, he did try to be nice to the man but apparently, the feeling wasn't mutual. Jefferson laughed in his face when he went to shake his hand and then disregarded him for the rest of the meeting. They soon came to find that they had vastly different views on many different topics, some even so mundane as to whether it was appropriate to have your sleeves pulled back at work. Needless to say, it didn't take long for the two of them to hate each other. For several years now, spending every meeting arguing and trying to sabotage the other in some way or another, mainly in front of Washington, just to try and get the other in trouble, hoping for some kind of gain. Pulling pranks on each other in the break room just to spite the other, these are usually harmless, from pouring salt in the other's fresh pot of coffee or locking the other out in a bathroom stall by turning the lock with a coin. Which, in turn, ended with one of the two parties being late for an important meeting. No-one in the company ever really understood why Washington kept them around but, they somehow turned out to be his most valuable employees.

Now, saying that Alex could never deny that he didn't see the good aspects of Thomas Jefferson. The man was good at his job, always kept his papers clean and organized, and was Alexanders' perfect intellectual match. Surprisingly, Georges' decision to hire him did not turn out to be a mistake and turned a profit. It also didn't hurt that he was attractive. If not for his terrible suits and flashy personality, maybe Alexander wouldn't have minded him as much.

Oh, who was he kidding, Alex couldn't get enough of Jefferson, every time he could spare a glance at the taller man he would daydream about the other's soft features yet masculine body - he was the perfect combination of cute and handsome. His eyebrows always perfectly angled, his eyes... those bottomless orbs, his nose perfectly rounded, and his lips so soft - he often wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. What it would be like to shut down another one of his perfect arguments with just a single kiss. Not to mention his kinky hair, always perfectly set in those tight curls making it so poofy. His suits as awful as they were, were all tailored perfectly to his Adonisian body, his shoulders, broad and his waist slim, the perfect ratio. Sadly, as much as Alexander liked to fantasize about his co-worker he would often be brought back to reality every time those pillowy lips began to move.
"Hamilton, stop starring or you'll get stuck like that, oh my apologies, seems you already have." The darker-skinned man spoke halfway through a meeting.
Everyone else tore their eyes off of Washington and turned to look in the shorter man's direction. Alex having been brought out of his thoughts by his rival, composed himself and sat up straight but didn't retort back.

Hamilton had been staring at Thomas for an uncomfortable amount of time now, his brows furrowed and his fingers, absentmindedly pinching his bottom lip. Thomas had noticed it a few days ago but realized he'd been doing it for an exceptionally long time that day. The taller man wondered, what was hiding behind the Caribbean man's eyes, those endless black pits, his pupils burning holes right into his soul every time he looked his way.

What could Hamilton possibly be thinking about this whole time?

Thomas couldn't help but notice the way the younger man's forehead creased slightly, deep in his thoughts. The way his angled nose made him look older and the way the purple bags under his eyes sagged. Thomas often wondered whether Hamilton got enough sleep, it almost worried him sometimes, but he'd never admit to it. Why would he care about Hamilton? He had laughed at him when they first met because he thought it was cute, a man like Hamilton was in such a high position as himself. He didn't dare address him the rest of the day in fear he might say something that was out of line. Ever since he had laid eyes on the man something, captivated him. Was it his drive? His passion? Maybe his stubbornness? Was it his chestnut-colored hair, his warm olive-hued skin? Or maybe it was the fact that he was average height yet somehow didn't look it.

Whatever it maybe have been, Alexander Hamilton was a mystery, a very loud, annoying, and obnoxious mystery. He never shuts up and won't let Thomas get a word in edgeways. If an argument began during a meeting, everyone could be sure they would get nothing done for the rest of that day, as their bickering took up all of the remaining time they'd have. They sputter insults at each other when passing by the other's office door or simply when meeting the other's gaze. Their perpetual fight in front of Washington just to always be on top was exhausting everyone around them, yet somehow... not them. It's almost like they reveled in it, like every time they argued it gave them an energy boost - like they needed the other just to properly function at work. Everyone around them saw it, their friends saw it, their co-workers saw it but if you'd asked them, they'd tell you they couldn't care less about the other. Yet secretly they yearned for each other.

How was it, that two men, who on the surface were professionals and kept up a healthy rivalry in their daily life, had such a strong desire for each other, without even knowing anything about it?

"Thank you, gentlemen, you're all dismissed." Washington finally finished.

This had been one of the few meetings where neither Alexander nor Thomas really had anything to say, which in turn gave very little to argue about. Thank god...