BoyxBoy One Shots ✔

Euphoria and Other Lies - Jamilton

hey hey, im back with another update that isn't by me. but, just so you know, this is a one shot (with smut) about thomas jefferson and alexander hamilton. please so not read if you are not comfortable!!!

by: ObscureSoul (AO3)

-

He had not planned his evening to end like this. He didn't even plan to begin it the way it did, but Alexander had just reached the furthest level of 'fuck my life' so he decided: I'm going to get shitfaced beyond all sane minds and have some fun for once in my life. Alexander's idea of 'fun' however was not... this. It had been around 3 hours of him mindlessly strolling through the streets that weren't too close to his home, but neither too far.

Alexander's definition of 'mindless' was just not thinking about politics. His mind was still reeling through different ideas of how to disregard some of his opponents through the press- evidently his mind was constantly related to politics. He tended to get lost in his thoughts, hence the ridiculous amount of time he had been sauntering through the city.

His mind kept reminding itself that the new secretary of state was arriving for a cabinet meeting tomorrow... Timothy? Was it? No- Thomas! What was his last name? Despite this, Alexander couldn't help but feel distance to his upcoming colleague. He was a decorated war veteran, Jefferson had not fought in any wars- he was naturally wealthy and was endowed with power as soon as he returned from France. Whereas Alexander had to- in his own mind, fight for his current position with everything he had ever since that day when he was twelve years of age.

Scratch that. He needed a drink, it was something that helped him ease into a state of calmness when he was on the boat to New York; however, it was also something which created a state of adrenaline moments before heading off to battle. Either way- he needed a goddamn drink.

The bar was... dusty, at best. It was a collection of different shades of brown in odd blocks of either tables, bottles, chairs, or the bar itself, the door was another shade of brown- the darkest off all the other shades, and the floor was- you guessed it, another shade of brown. The floor somehow managed to be another whole level of brown- beiges blending into sandy tones into a chocolate vibrancy... it was a weird dirt marble piece that seemed to amaze Hamilton. Amaze was not the correct term... but it was the most accurate as he was the opposite of put-off by the rather dusty flooring. The man who owned the bar seemed to also be... in his own right: dusty.

Contrastingly, the alcohol itself was more grainy than dusty- which made Alexander not know how to feel about his recent choices leading up to this moment sitting in a dull bronze room with a russet cup of burnt-amber-looking liquid which was apparently whisky. This only confirmed one thing: Alexander was an ale kind of man. Unless this wasn't what the spirit was supposed to taste like- however the proceedings of this experience were sure to scar him against the hard alcohol for all future occasions.

He kept thinking. His mind never stopping. Alexander can sometimes prevent his mouth from running yet if he does that, his thoughts only become more chaotic... Jefferson! That was the new secretary of state's last name. Out of congratulation to himself of managing to remember an irrelevant yet important piece of information Alexander took another gulp of the 'whiskey'.

He never expected that the man he would meet with the person who he had been fiddling within his mind a little while back tonight, he expected they would arrive and retreat imminently to rest the travelling off before a new day of work. That would be the sensible thing to do, which Alexander felt like he should also abide by.

"Whiskey. Neat." The voice which had entered the brown bar from behind Alexander seemed much louder than it could have naturally been. Alex glanced momentarily and noted something that would probably be held over him by a numinous power until the day he died.