Hamilton Oneshots

Worried // Washinglee

Charles Lee stood, sulking against the wall. His bottom lip was slightly poking away from his face, giving him a more innocent look. George took his focus away to listen to Alexander's rambles.

"Alexander! I'd like to hear Charles's story about all of this. Alone, preferably," George said. Charles glanced up while straightening his posture.

"Yes sir," Alexander said. He glared at Charles before leaving. George turned his attention as soon as the door shut.

"You saw everything that happened, I don't know why you need me to explain it," Charles said. He remained standing, looking at George.

"You're older than him, you should know better," George argued.

"By like 3 years, we went to the same high school for fucks sake," Charles complained.

"Charles, language," George quickly reprimanded.

"George, I'm an adult," Charles retorted.

"In a workplace. Dear Lord, what's going on with you? You've been so... weird lately," George said as he rubbed his temples.

"Weird? Really, that's the best you've got? I can't believe you, George. I'm going back to work and I'll see you at home. You saw everything go down exactly as it did, it's not my fucking fault that Laurens couldn't finish his work when I put mine in on time. It's also not my fucking fault that Hamilton decided to be Laurens's savior," Charles said. He started to storm away, but George quickly grabbed his wrist.

"Charles, they're getting married, of course, Alexander is going to protect his fiancé. The whole workplace is invited to their wedding next month," George said. Charles froze and stared at him.

"Everyone except for me. And for fucks sake, we've been married, Mr. Washington-Lee," Charles said. George froze for a moment, barely able to meet his husband's eyes.

"I can't defend you in every argument you have here," George finally said. Charles twisted his arm free and walked out of the room without another word. George stared blankly at the door, feeling bad for how he spoke. He tried multiple times to speak to Charles but was avoided each time.

Finally came the inevitable. George stepped into Charles's car, feeling awkward immediately. Charles had the music loud, driving away as soon as George was buckled in.

"Charles, listen-" George tried. The music got a little louder. The remainder of the drive was quiet, apart from the music. Once George and Charles entered their apartment, George wrapped his hands around Charles's biceps so he couldn't walk off.

"George, stop it, I don't want to talk about it," Charles said while thrashing roughly. George held him in place, unphased by his movements.

"Charles, calm down, I'm not asking you to talk. I want you to listen," George said. Charles stopped, staring tiredly at George.

"I don't want to hear it, I just want to crawl into bed and never leave the blankets ever again," Charles said. George frowned and pulled his husband closer.

"If you never left the blankets, then we would never see each other," George said. Charles looked up at George.

"Not true, you've got to go to bed, so I'll be there every night," Charles insisted.

"As flattering as that is, I don't need a bed goblin named Charlie," George said with a laugh. Charles didn't laugh as he pulled his arms free.

"Let's not make this an entire joke," Charles said. George stopped laughing and lightly pulled Charles to their couch.

"Then what's wrong?" George asked. Charles sighed and rubbed his face roughly.

"I just... Maybe. I don't know, you know?" he said.