My Hamilton OTP's One-Shots {CLOSED}

My God - Jamilton (Angst/ Fluff)

|TW: Mentions of death, guns, explosives, sexual implication|

|Third|

"Hamilton."

Alexander looks up from the ground at George Washington, his boss, holding in the tears the threatened to fall. "Hamilton, what happened in there?" he asks. Hamilton spoke, but his voice was shaky. "J- Jefferson and I got the files. B- but we were ambushed and Jefferson gave the files to me before pushing me out the window and that's w- when the building exploded and and—" Hamilton's tears came falling before he could stop them.

Washington grimaced and held onto his arm. "Shh... calm down, son. It's gonna be alright. Maybe-" Washington goes to say but Hamilton cuts him off. "No, no. He was right there. There's no way he..." Hamilton trails off and continues crying. "Son, be honest, were you two... emotionally involved?" Washington asks. Hamilton quickly shakes his head and wipes his tears. "N- no but I- I was-"

Washington just lets him cry as he's taken into the ambulance for his arm and head injury.

———

It had been three days since the incident and Hamilton couldn't see himself returning to his work. What was left for him to do? Jefferson was his partner and he couldn't work alone. Hamilton hesitates to open the door to his house. It brought many memories. Sure he, lived alone, but Jefferson often visited so they could get work done. He remembered planning out their missions late into the night, Jefferson ordering Chinese food all the time. Hamilton found himself loving the company, despite how he had loathed the man before.

And then Hamilton found himself loving the other man to an undeniable point. Though, he'd never admit it out loud. Jefferson was a widower while he himself was a divorcee. It wasn't even a possibility in his eyes. But he still couldn't stop himself and the pain was overwhelming. This was a new type of pain. A pain that paled in comparison to when his wife left him. It was unbearable.

Hamilton slowly pushed open the door, the melodies of his faint laughter echoing through the hallway. The floorboards creaked under his feet and the paintings hung low and sad. Never would his home feel like home without his partner. It would forevermore be empty and silent. Hamilton set down his things, shutting the door behind him. Everything about the place seemed off. Cold and distant.

Hamilton walked down the hall and stopped at the first door, scared to open it. When he did, it felt eerie and quiet. His office was it's usual mess, but it was mess he could tolerate because it held some of the final moments he had with Jefferson before the incident. He quickly shut the door, fearing the memories would bring him to tears again.

He went by the kitchen and slowly walked upstairs. Bypassing the guest bedroom, he opened the door to his own room and sighed. It was still the way he had left it. He shut the door behind him and climbed onto his bed, curling up under the comforter. His eyes felt heavy and his thoughts were loud and clashing in his head. He felt a type peacefulness settle in his stomach and let his drowsiness take over him, enveloping him into a world of limbo and numbness.

Hamilton woke up a few hours later. The sun had long set and it was well past midnight. His stomach had woken him out of his peaceful sleep, although he didn't feel like eating anything. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes. He climbed out of bed and carefully walked down the stairs into the kitchen. He felt like a stranger in his own home. Everything was familiar but at the same time new to him.

He searched his kitchen for something to eat, settling for a PB & J since he didn't feel like cooking at the moment. He spread the peanut butter on half the bread and went to wash off the butter knife. He looked into the reflection of the butter knife, thinking he saw something in the reflection before his mouth was being covered and he was being dragged out of the kitchen. He thrashed around, confused and surprised at the black leather glove that covered his mouth. 

He was pulled into his office, hitting the doorway hard. When the person hesitated for a moment, he elbowed whatever he could reach, successfully breaking free of their grip. He dove towards his bookshelf, quick to open a secret compartment that held a silver revolver Jefferson gifted to him. He spun around and pointed it at the person who was leaning against his desk, clutching their stomach. They were dressed in complete black and a white and silver mask covered their face.

"Who are you?"

The person held up their hands slowly. Hamilton glared at them. "Take off the mask," Hamilton says, gesturing the gun towards his desk. The person slowly moved one hand to the mask and kept their other hand level. Hamilton's eyes flicked to their hair once and then a second time as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Hamilton's legs almost gave out under him when he saw who was hiding behind the mask.

"T- Thomas?"

Jefferson sits the mask down on Hamilton's desk slowly. "Howdy partner," Jefferson smiles a bit. Hamilton drops the gun and slowly walks over to him. Jefferson watches as he slowly moves his hands to cup his face, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. Jefferson lets him and just stares down at him. "Breathe, Hamilton. Don't want you dying on me, eh?" he jokes.

The next thing he knew, his cheek was stinging with the lingering pain of a hard slap. "OW YOU- FUCK!" he yells. Hamilton glares at him. "You asshole! I thought you were dead! I thought someone was trying to kidnap me! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Hamilton yells back. "Me?! Wh- you just slapped me!" Jefferson accused. "It was well overdue!"

Hamilton continues to glare daggers into Jefferson as the taller man took a seat on the floor, pulling out a flask and pressing it against his cheek. "How the hell are you even here? I watched you die!" Hamilton exclaims. "No, you watched the building you thought I was in get blown to smithereens," Jefferson replies, taking a swig from his flask before pressing it back against his cheek.

"Ugh, can you not drink in here?"

"It's not alcohol darlin', it's water."

"Whatever. What do you mean by 'the building you thought i was in'?" Hamilton asks. "Oh. Right. Well, when the reds had blocked our path, I noticed several of them had guns, but more of them had explosives. So I had to think quick. Pushing you out the window with the files was step one. I didn't know if you'd survive the fall, but I had to trust that you would be alright and successful in the mission.

"After pushing you out though, the reds surrounded me and assumed that I had turned on you so I had to play it stupid. They told me about the bombs under the building and how it was going to detonate an they had an escape plan. What total idiots. I blocked their means of escape, even though I knew that I would be sacrificing myself in the process. Luckily, there was this passage way out of the building so to sum it all up— I faked my death."

Hamilton gave him an incredulous look, his mind wondering to how he was able to come up with such a plan in that amount of time. "No one but you knows i'm still alive and it has to stay that way for a bit. Once I figure out where they bugged your house—" Hamilton cuts Jefferson off. "Wait, they bugged my house?" he asks. Jefferson nods.

"I came here to see if you were home that day and found some bugs in your office, recently placed. I destroyed them, but I couldn't find anymore. This is the only place I know that there aren't any," Jefferson says. "Jesus fucking Christ. Is that why you dragged me in here? So they wouldn't know you survived?" Hamilton questions. Jefferson nods again. "Glad to see my partner is okay after I pushed him out the window. I hope my death didn't cause too much trouble," Jefferson smiles.

"Shut up."

"That's rude. Y'know, my momma always said to treat- mmph!"

Hamilton grabs his coat and smashes their lips together. Jefferson blushes in surprise, but kisses back and holds onto his waist. Hamilton pulls away first. "I thought I lost you, you asshole," he growled. Jefferson chuckles and smirks. "Didn't know you felt so passionate about me," he remarks before Hamilton goes in for a second kiss, this one less innocent.

They had a lot of fun in that office. And thank God the bugs didn't pick up on the sounds.

———