My Hamilton OTP's One-Shots {CLOSED}

You Are Me? - Mullette (Crack)

Basically a crack fic—
|Requested by: @An-Eternal-Flame |
|Third|

"You ready for bed?"

"Yeah. Just finishing up this book."

Lafayette chewed on his pen before shutting the book and sitting it on his bedside table. He turns towards his husband and smiles. "I love you," he says. Hercules smiles back and replies, "I love you too. I've been thinking—"

"Let me stop you right there. Is whatever your thinking going to make it hard for me to fall asleep tonight?"

"Probably not."

"Proceed."

"Okay. So, what if we were actually just figments of our own imagination and none of this is real?"

"Hercules, sweetie, mon amour."

"Yes?"

"Go to sleep."

He turns off the lights and closes his eyes. "Okay but what if—" Lafayette groans. "Just hear me out. What if we were actually characters that were altered by fans of this really popular musical or something?" Hercules asked. "Go to sleep."

"Ooh and what if our actors are nothing like us?"

"I will suffocate you."

"Fine. Grumpy." Hercules huffs and pulls the blanket over himself. They both soon fall asleep.

---

Daveed slowly wakes up. He's laying with his back facing most of his bed. It's a bit unusual for him to wake up not laying across the center of the bed he sleeps in alone. He turns off his alarm and groans. The last rehearsal before the tour in New York City starts is today so he has to get up bright and early and get downtown. He rolls over on his other side and nearly screams. Well, he nearly screams but.. so does himself?

Lafayette sits up with wide eyes and stares at Daveed. "What the... Thomas, mon ami, why are you here? Wait... this is isn't my house..." Lafayette looks around confused. Daveed just sits there speechless, his thoughts running wild. Who is this guy? Why does he look exactly like me? Who's Thomas? Am I dreaming? Please don't tell me this is real.

"Wh- who are you and why are you in m- my house?" Daveed finally asks. Lafayette looks at him and suddenly realizes something. "Hercules? Hercules! Hercules! Where is he? Where is my Hercules? Dammit Lafayette, think!" Lafayette hits his head trying to think of what happened. "Hercules? Lafayette? Thomas?! Don't tell me— who are you?" Daveed asks slowly.

"Thomas, don't play dumb. What happened to your accent? Anyways, it's me! Lafayette!"

"Holy shit... I've been working on this musical so long- I'm starting to hallucinate."

"Musical? What? Thomas are you feeling well? No matter. I have to find Hercules."

Lafayette gets up and glances out the window. "Woah.. where am I? What are those things moving down there?" Lafayette asks himself mostly. "Those are cars— wait, what year do you think it is?" Daveed asks, running his hands through his hair. "Thomas come on. Obviously, it's 1783. The revolution just ended and you are supposed to be in Virginia getting ready to take a ship to France. You know, so we can draft the French Declaration?"

"Oh my god. You're Lafayette. But you look like me? And Thomas must be Thomas Jefferson who must also look like me because you think I'm him!"

"If you're not Thomas, then who are you? An imposter?"

"No no, I think you've got it all wrong. I'm Daveed Diggs and I play you in Hamilton, an American Musical."

"Hamilton? Have you heard from Monsieur Hamilton? Maybe he knows what's going on."