Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

You're Not the Only One

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Warnings: Shameless flirting. Full on shameless. Fluff

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"Where'd everyone go?" Hamilton asked, walking into his and Jefferson's room.

"They're all at a dinner with the president of the Independent States."

"Really? President Valenzuela? She's here?"

"Yep," Jefferson confirmed.

"I liked her. I hope we'll get to say hello while she's here."

"We'll probably run into each other. She'll be here for several days going over trade agreements and stuff."

"Didn't we get those straightened out with her already? And why would she come herself instead of an ambassador, it's been dangerous around here."

Jefferson shrugged. "I don't know. But wouldn't you or I have done the same?"

"Of course," Hamilton sighed, plopping down onto the bed and stretching out. Jefferson glanced over from his spot on the couch, smiling softly to himself. "What're you doing?" Hamilton asked.

"Reading."

"You should come read over here with me," Hamilton said, pulling out his own book. Jefferson grumbled complaints about how he was comfortable but got up and moved over and flung himself face down on the bed, book still in hand, Hamilton chuckling all the while.

"I'm here. Are you happy?" Jefferson mumbled into the pillow.

"Yes," Hamilton purred, lightly brushing his fingertips down Jefferson's spine while he read, Jefferson shivered from the contact but stayed put.

"What're doing, Alexander?" Jefferson asked, words still muffled by his pillow.

"Reading," Hamilton hummed. "Why?"

"Because you're bothering me," Jefferson replied.

"Am I?" Hamilton smirked, halting his actions. "How about now?" Hamilton asked devilishly right as he pulled on Jefferson's hair, earning a yelp of surprise which only made him grin broader.

Jefferson's head shot up and glared at Hamilton who was now innocently reading his book, hands to himself. Jefferson's response was to steal Hamilton's book and toss it across the room onto the couch and face plant back into his pillow.

"Hey!" Hamilton protested, fixing Jefferson with his own glare as his body shook with silent laughter. Oh, Hamilton was going to shut him up. "Thomas," Hamilton purred, his voice low, heavy and inviting. Jefferson's laughter immediately ceased.

Oh shit.

Hamilton shot out of bed and booked it out the room and ran down the hallway, fleeing before Jefferson could do anything to him. Hamilton wasn't even out the bedroom door when he heard Jefferson's feet hit the ground and start running. Hamilton ran even faster, he grabbed a corner to help him skid around it without losing any speed. Jefferson had outrageously long legs and could catch up easily. Speaking of Jefferson, Hamilton couldn't hear him running after him, where did he go-oh fuck.

Hamilton skidded to a halt and reversed directions, running back the way he came. Jefferson was in the walls. Now it was a game of wits rather than speed. Alright, Hamilton could play that, all he had to do was make it outside and he'd win. Great plan. Hamilton took a sudden right turn, going for the windiest route for the door, one Jefferson would have a hard time keeping up within the walls.

Then every single door in the Manor slammed shut at once and locked.

Oh, that motherfucker. "Real cliche, Thomas!" Hamilton yelled, "You've used that move before, you don't get to use it again!"