Why Can't I Hate You? (Kingburr)

Something

...
Washington sighed as he had finally given up on calling Aaron, he then began calling Thomas- but of course they didn't answer. Probably getting double-teamed by Hercules and Madison again, he put down his phone- walking out of his hotel room and down the hallway.

"Alexander'.

"Sir"!

"I need you to go and look for the next flight home, there has to be one"-

"Sir, again- the only flight available isn't until another two weeks, I could probably get Laurens to come and get a bus over here for us'.

Washington huffed, nodding, "whatever gets us home, I'm beginning to worry for Aaron- he always answers me. I've given up on Thomas, they stopped caring for me as soon as they discovered Madison's bolder clone.' he rolled his eyes, heading towards the bar. "Call Laurens, and tell me what he says."
Hamilton nodded, pulling his phone out- "yes sir."

..
Aaron was somewhat okay, sitting down in the bathtub full of warm soapy water. He relaxed into the feeling, lying down as he tilted his head back against the back of the tub- he looked up at his toes, wiggling them with a sigh. George was sitting on the seat of the toilet, leaning over as he watched Burr with a rather amused smile. He was so quiet- so small, and delicate yet at the same time wasn't. George found everything entertaining about the tiny fragile male, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting a good amount into his palm before foaming it up and washing Aaron's unshaven tuff of hair. He liked his hair a lot- shaven on the sides and his remaining puff of hair was so- curly and bouncy. Aaron let out a soft sound at this, fluttering his eyes shut within contact- he figured out that if he listened to George, that George would treat him fairly well.

"Little birdy."

Aaron opened his eyes at the sudden break of silence, looking over at the male with a confused chirp. George seemed to have made another perfect nickname for him- grinning. "Tell me little bird, do you sing like most birds, can you sing for me little birdy"?
In response to this, Burr furrowed his brows, staring at the british man with a 'hmph'.
George frowned, rolling his eyes as he did his best to maintain a soft tone of voice. "Can you, I repeat, sing for me little birdy"?
Burr didn't want to sing for the man, even if he knew something would happen if he did not. He shook his head, only to be given a sharp tug at his hair. With a squeak, Aaron released a loud distressed sound - whimpering pathetically.

"Little birdy, I'm going to ask you again now. Can you sing for me"? Burr nodded this time, relaxing the slightest once more when George had let go, gently massaging at his scalp to help lessen the painful sensation left behind. "Sing for me, then."
"But what do I sing, George"?

"Ah- first of all, you will address me as your king, or master. Understood"? He murmured, his blue eyes staring at him. Aaron sighed, nodding-
"your higheness.." he paused, glancing over at George, seeing that he didn't seem to mind the name- he continued on. "What do I sing for you"? Fredrick shrugged, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it up with water before pouring it over Aaron's head- rinsing off the shampoo from his hair. "Whatever your little heart desires, little birdy." Aaron nodded, looking off to the side as he thought of a song- nothing. So instead, he made up his own- looking down as he mumbled a set of lyrics. George growled softly, tilting his head up, looking into his eyes. "Louder, please."
Burr nodded, taking a deep breath.

"I-.." nothing comes out, he let out a quiet whimper, trying to think of something. George glares at him, about to snap at him-

"George, my highness, my master- what a disaster. I am forced to, plaster- a smile upon my face and now I'm digging my own grave. I don't know what to sing- I should have kept my mouth shut, please stop looking.."..

George cocked a brow, shaking his head. "You're tense, nervous. We'll try again later, okay"?
Burr nodded, sniffling.