Wasn't Meant To Be : Jamilton [Completed]

Chapter 18: The one where Hercules comes in / Gym Class

"Thomas no!" Alexander yelled, trying to pull on the older man's arm to stop him

"Ooh. You scare me so much. Maybe I oughta just show Washington that sweet ass picture I took. That'd excuse you." He was laughing again. But this time, it was cut short by a punch to the stomach hard enough that it fired him back into a locker. "Get the fuck away from Alex," Hercules growled up at Thomas, keeping the taller man against the lockers. He thought Thomas was bullying Alexander in a non-affectionate way. When Thomas caught his breath, he had the nerve to laugh in Mulligan's face and say, "Calm down." Of course, this just pissed Hercules off more. He'd been held back a couple times and spend most of his free time--besides the time he spent with Laf--working out, and now he was built like an ox. Thomas was muscular, but it was more lithe muscle; there was no way in hell he could get Mulligan off of him without resorting to desperate measures. So he did. His knee rocketed forward into Hercules' crotch. Hercules drew back in pain and shock, and Thomas slipped out from between him and the lockers, rolling his eyes. "Damn, Alex. I knew your friends were...rough, but didn't know they just attacked people for no god damned reason..."

Alexander gasped at first. "Hercules, it is okay! He isn't being mean!" he told his friend before quickly grabbing Thomas's hand. "And don't you dare show anyone that fucking picture, Jefferson!" He growled. 

Hercules caught his breath and straightened up, just to have his eyes settle on Alexander's and Thomas' joined hands. "Oh..." he said, reaching up to nervously fiddle with his dark wool cap. "You two? Really?" Thomas pulled Alexander closer to him, protectively, and decided to let Alex respond to his friend. In case he said something stupid and ruined one of Alex's friendships, which he assumed were very, very few. Very, very, very, very few. He was surprised Alex had any friends, actually.

"N-n-no! W-we aren't a thing i-it... w-w-we.. j-just t-talk about some t-things.." Alexander stuttered, heat rising in his cheeks as he looked down at the ground in embarrassment.

Hercules might've been built like an ox, but he certainly didn't have the brain of one. He caught on quick. "Oh, yeah. I get it." He still messed with his cap, an anxious habit. "Then, uh, I'll leave you two to...talk. Yeah. Uh, can Laf know you two talk?" Meaning, were they cool with the entire school knowing. Because Lafayette would definitely blab excitedly about Alex finding somebody.

"NO!" Alexander quickly yelled. "S-s-sorry... just... I have to get to gym." he said softer, letting go of Thomas's hand and walking towards the gym. He crossed his arms in embarrassment. "Thomas, you come if you want.."

Thomas nodded, flipped Hercules the bird, then headed off to walk with Alexander. Hercules watched them go, looking sort of lost until, of course, Lafayette walked up to his side and asked what was wrong. Hercules shrugged and turned, walking in the opposite direction of Alex and Thomas--and his next class--so Lafayette would follow him instead of seeing their friend with their worst enemy.

Alexander sighed. "I'm sorry for leaving abruptly, Thomas...it's just... I don't even know what we are. Like... the two of us... and Laf knowing means the whole school knowing. Y'know?"

Thomas nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I get it. He's a little bit of a gossip." That didn't lessen how much he still cared for their kind of shared friend, though. 

"T-Thomas....? What are we? Like.... we're not boyfriends, but I am sure that we aren't worst enemies anymore. We kiss... We hold hands. we had s-" he paused. "...so what are w-we?"

Thomas thought for a moment, then shrugged and looked away. "I...I don't know. I don't know what we are. Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll figure it out as time goes along."

Alexander nodded softly. "I understand, Thomas." He smiled weakly. Once he reached the gym, he turned and looked at Thomas. "Have fun in your 'class'." He teased, opening the door and making his way to the locker room.

"I will." He grinned, then went to go talk to the gym coach, a Mr. von Steuben. He explained to the foreign-born man that he was trying to get coverage of the gym class for the school newspaper. He wasn't even on the newspaper--though he probably should've been--but von Steuben believed him and allowed him to sit on the bleachers. This gave him a damn good view of the gym so he could watch Alexander all he wanted without having to hang around outside the window. All he had to do was scribble enough in his notebook that it looked like he was taking notes.

It took Alexander a few minutes to rid himself of his casual clothes and slip on his gym clothes, a pair of green shorts and a white t-shirt. Of course, he had to ignore the taunts of other students in the locker room, which was hard enough. Once he finished, he walked into the gym area. Upon seeing Thomas in the bleachers, he rolled his eyes. He smiled

Thomas grinned at him, then mouthed, 'Turn around' before swirling his finger a bit to simulate the action. 

Alexander furrowed his brow, but he did so, anyway, turning and facing his back to Thomas.

Thomas unabashedly stared at Alexander's ass in those ugly gym shorts for as long as Alex was oblivious to his true intentions. 

Alexander eventually began to move around the gym, waiting for his peers and his coach to come out and instruct them. He glanced over at Thomas every few seconds to see what the older man was doing.

Thomas was pretending to write notes while checking Alexander out the entire time.

Dodgeball... why did it fucking have to be dodgeball? Who was the genius who invented dodgeball? Alexander groaned as they were placed into teams. He looked over to Thomas.

Thomas hoped Alexander would get out quickly so he could come to sit on the bleachers next to him as an 'out' player.

Alexander winced slightly at the sound of the of the coach's whistle, commencing the game. he felt as if all of the opponents' eyes were on him as he watched a dozen of the balls being thrown at him. "Shit," he mumbled as he was pelted by nearly all of them. He covered his face protectively, not wanting to get seriously injured. He wasn't though. All he was, was out.

Thomas was halfway between wanting to laugh at Alexander getting destroyed by a whole group of teenagers, but he also sort of wanted to slaughter the group that hurt him.