Ship: Jeffmads
James swung his short legs back and forth on the bed, smiling ear to ear. After what seemed to be forever, he was going to be able to see the Thomas Jefferson after a long trip to France. Sure, he was an arrogant, forward Francophile, but James knew there was a soft side to his friend. That's what he loved about the tall, handsome, flirty man.
The only problem is, Thomas is James's friend. A word that James wanted to change just by adding three letters. It hurts to see that Thomas doesn't love him in that way. Those three letters make a huge impact on their relationship, and James really wanted to add those three letters.
Any hour and Thomas would be calling me, James thought, smiling like a dork, I can't believe he's coming home! But why? He told me that he hated his life back at home. That he wanted to be somewhere else. That he wanted to live in Paris, the romantic city. The city where you could find love.
James's head was filled with thoughts and questions, each making his headache worst, but he couldn't help it. These thoughts came from the man that made him helpless.
Damn it, Thomas, James thought, I can't even think straight. Not that I mind.
The lovestruck man fell backward, his back landing on the soft mattress of his bed. He groaned at his throbbing head, really wanting the pain to stop.
His phone suddenly began to ring, which made him jump from the sudden call. Must be Thomas.
"Hello?" James asked, already picking up the phone without checking the contact.
"Jemmy, what's up?" an unfamiliar voice asked. James began to panic. Conversing with strangers was never his forte.
"U-um, w-who's this?" the frightened man asked, stuttering.
He heard a chuckle from the other side of the call, which made him more nervous.
"Jemmy, you don't remember me?" the voice asked, a bit of disappointment in his tone, "Thomas Jefferson? Your childhood friend? Did you already forgot about me?"
James sighed, which made Thomas laugh his beautiful laugh that James loved to hear. "Y-yeah, sorry about that," the stuttering man replied, "I just- you sound very different from the last time I heard from you. I guess people do change?"
"Yeah, it's been like five or six years of living in Paris, so of course, I was gonna change and stuff." James heard silence from the other side, which was completely awkward for him. He coughed in his elbow, trying to see if the other man would react at all. He was right.
"Jemmy, are you sick?" Thomas asked, and James could already imagine his face twisted into a concerned one.
"I'm fine-" James replied before letting out a coughing fit into his elbow, "I'm really fine."
"Jemmy, you know you're supposed to be picking me up today," Thomas said, "But you don't have to! I'll get a taxi and-"
"N-no, I'll pick you up!" the sick man stuttered, "Where are you?"
"Um, the airport?"
James stood up from his bed and began grabbing casual clothes for the outside. He decided on a pale, yellow scarf, a light-blue button-up shirt, and some black jeans. "I'll be there soon," he said, a bit hurriedly.
"James, you okay?" Thomas asked, concerned.
"N-no, I'm fine!" James replied, slipping on his black combat boots, "I'll be there in a few minutes!"
And with that, James hung up, cursing to himself about not even saying one good-bye. He ran out of his apartment and towards his car, starting the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.
What should I even say? James thought to himself, Hey, Thomas! Glad that you're back! No, a bit too energetic? Thomas, where have you been? No, you already know where he's been. Just say hi and say that you've missed him. Wait, he called you Jemmy. But he calls you Jemmy all the time. He must've been really disappointed when you didn't recognize his voice.
James kept those thoughts in his head until he arrived at the airport. He parked not far away from the airport and walked out of his car, almost running to the airport. He stopped, panting from all the running he has done, and looked around to find the familiar, tall male. Not in sight.
James gently pushed through some people, still trying to find Thomas. He wanted to yell out his name, but he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself. Wait, embarrass himself. At this point, he already forgot about who called him, he panicked literally over nothing, and he already made a huge mess out of himself in public. Might as well just call out for Thomas.
James took a deep breath before yelling, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't say a single word. Not even a noise escaped his mouth. What was preventing him from speaking was the hand on his shoulder. What are you doing, James!? James thought to himself as he began turning around to see who made physical contact with him.
He didn't see much, being honest, but he did see a magenta fabric and caramel skin. Those colors looked awfully familiar. James didn't even have enough time to look up at the person's facial features, but he was pulled into a strong embrace.
Cinnamon. A familiar smell from the past. Something he has definitely smelt before. Strong arms. The feeling of reassuring arms around James's small, frail body.
"Hey, Jemmy," the person said, with a Southern accent. The accent that James knew well. The person finally pulled away from the hug, and James was able to see their face. Nice, dark, fluffy hair, chocolate brown eyes, arrogant smile. Those features that James knew too well.
"Hey, Thomas," James said, smiling, probably like a dork, "I missed you."
He heard Thomas's harmonious chuckle and he felt a hand ruffling his short hair. "Missed you, too," he said, as he began following James to his car. He was pulling his single, magenta suitcase, which was covered in small pictures of Thomas and James smiling at the camera.
"So, did anything interesting happened in Paris?"
Thomas groaned, remembering one of the days in Paris.
"Ugh, it's Jeffershit," Alexander said, rolling his eyes.
"What do you want, Hamilton?" Thomas asked. He wasn't in the mood at all that day.
"Where's your little Jemmy?" the shorter man asked, a smirk on his face.
Thomas scoffed at the arrogant, short man before walking up to him face-to-face. "It's James, dumbass," he hissed, glaring daggers at Alexander, "And he's back in America. What are you doing here, and where's Jackie?"
This already triggered the other man, as he grabbed the taller man's collar and pulled him down. "You better shut your mouth," he said, glaring back at the now smirking Thomas, "John is also at home. Not that you care, anyways." He pushed Thomas back before arrogantly walking the other direction. The Virginian watched as Alexander walked away, still annoyed by the encounter.
"Well, thank goodness, I wasn't there," James said jokingly, turning on the car engine, "Must've been a terrible day for you."
The taller male chuckled and crossed his legs. "Hey, it wasn't my fault Hamilton decided to walk up to me for no damn reason," he said, a small smirk on his face.
James hummed and began driving them home. "Are you sick?" Thomas asked, remembering the phone call from before.
The shorter man shook his head, smiling. "Just choked on something," he replied before paying attention to the road.
The ride was silent, and not the comfortable, silent. James wished. No, this was the awkward, silent.
"So..." the shorter man said, still keeping his eyes on the road, "Are you hungry?" He assumed that Thomas was hungry, since he probably didn't eat lunch in the airplane. It was a little early to eat, so now might've been a good time to ask.
Thomas shrugged and looked out the window. "We could drive home," he said, "Then I could probably make some mac cheese. I've been craving for some forever."
Really? James thought. He decided to groan in a playful way. "But you always had mac cheese," the shorter man complained.
"Come on! It's homemade!" Thomas argued, knowing that James was joking, "And I know how much you love my homemade mac cheese."
That wasn't a lie. James loved Thomas's homemade mac cheese, and in fact, he loved everything that the taller man made. Maybe it was the effects of being in love with him.
"Fine, but if it turns out to be terrible, I'm gonna sue you," James joked, smiling.
Thomas chuckled and petted the shorter man's hair. "I promise!" he chirped, smiling like a dork, "This will be the best mac cheese you'll ever have in your life!"
Of course, it'll be the best mac cheese in my life, the shorter man thought, Everything you make is the best thing in the world.
They finally arrived at James's apartment, and the shorter man helps Thomas bring his stuff in. Thomas brought his suitcase in while James held the rest of Thomas's things, which wasn't much. He held a magenta blanket, a plushy of James (which he thanked Hercules for making), and a water bottle.
The taller Virginian ran upstairs to his bedroom, placing his magenta suitcase on his bed. He smiled at the pictures he took of him and James, sighing. Okay, this is the day, Thomas thought, This is the day you confess to Jemmy. It's okay if he doesn't like you the same way. Being rejected by Jemmy is the same feeling as being rejected, dumped, or cheated on by your exes. You'll be fine.
Thomas was telling lies to himself. He loves James differently than his previous girlfriends. Yeah, he cared for them, but there was something different about James. He made the taller man want to cuddle him, pepper him with kisses, hug him, watch over him, the list could go on. Thomas felt emotionally attached to James, and he needed to tell him. Maybe a quick shower and a change of clothes will make him more relaxed.
James, on the other hand, is having a small panic attack. What does he think about me now? he thought, nessing with the sleeves of his turtle neck, Why am I getting so nervous? It's Thomas. He'll never love a weirdo like me. James have been putting himself down because he says he's not enough.
He suddenly heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs, and he knew who it was. Other than the fact that they were the only two in the house, James knew those steps were coming from someone who was arrogant and outgoing. He saw the figure appearing at the bottom of the stairs with a loose tank top and boxers. James tries to ignore Thomas so that his face doesn't turn red. He failed.
"Jemmy!" Thomas exclaimed, hugging the shorter man, who was oblivious to the shorter Virginian blushing madly from staring at his biceps, "Are you ready to have the best lunch in your life?" And possibly the last one.
James laughed and patted Thomas's back. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, still blushing.
The taller man pulled away, still smiling before walking into the kitchen. Making homemade mac cheese? Thomas asked himself, Easy as pie. Confessing to James? Complicated as hell.
"Hey, Jemmy?" Thomas called out from the kitchen.
James looked up from the story he was reading on his phone. "Yes, Thomas?" he asked, a bit curious what the taller man has to say.
Okay, you know what to say, so just say it now, Thomas thought, It's not that hard. "So, what I'm about to say might make you lose your apetite," he said, biting his lip.
James laughed and smiled, looking down at his book. "Thomas, I know your mac cheese will be fine," the shorter man said, flipping a page. The taller man sure has some ways to make James laugh, and he couldn't help it.
"No, James, I'm being serious," Thomas said, his tone shaky but not jokingly. This made James gulp. Oh, he's going to say that he hates me, James thought, closing his book shut, He's going to leave me in this apartment. He's going to make fun of me for having small panic attacks. He's going to ignore me. James knew the taller man used James's real name when he's being serious. But why is he like this?
Nonetheless, James replied, "Just tell me. I won't judge," although he knows it's not him who's gonna be judging. It's Thomas.
"Well, first of all, you're an awesome friend," Thomas said, feeling his face suddenly heat up. Those were one of the cheesiest pick-up lines ever. He saw James walking to the counter in the walls between the kitchen and dining room. He was fidgeting with his own sleeves, but he looked cute. Thomas didn't know why the shorter man was nervous, but he continued anyway.
"Well, you're more than a good friend. And no, not even to best friends, either. Or something like BFFs, or whatever. What I am saying is, you're cute, adorable, and other adjectives I can't find to describe you because you're that awesome." James felt his face heat up to a crimson red. He opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas continued. This is where the confession starts.
"You're adorable to the point where I wanna keep cuddling you in my sleep. You're cute to the point where I wanna cover you up in kisses. You're beautiful to the point where I will need to remind you that you're beautiful every hour of the day. The reason why I came back from France was because of you. You mean so much to me, James. I know you'll say no, but I will say it, anyways. James Madison, I love you. And I really want to go out with you, but I understand if you don't wanna."
James blinked. He said... I love you, he thought. He was looking for any signs that the taller man was joking. "Just kidding, Jemmy! It was all a joke!" Nothing. Thomas's eye flickered from James to the floor. No, you're making him nervous! he thought, Say something!
"I-I like you, t-too," the shorter man stuttered quietly. Looks like Thomas didn't hear him, considering that he leaned over the counter a bit too close to James's face. They were a few centimeters apart, which made the shorter man's breath hitched.
"What did you say?" the taller man asked, his breath against the shorter man's face, making him shiver.
"I liked- no, love you," James corrected. His face was extremely red to the point where you could see the color on his dark skin. He hope this was all a joke, but he also hoped that this was real. He expected Thomas to just pull away and make fun of him, he really did. There was no way a tall, beautiful man like Thomas could fall in love with a small, sick weirdo like him. Never.
James was about to take his words back, when he felt the space between him and the taller man close. Thomas closed his eyes as his lips made contact with James's. His lips were soft, really soft. The shorter man didn't kiss back, because he was so shocked at the tall Virginian's actions. He thought wrong about Thomas. He does love him.
James began kissing the taller man back, although he was a bit shy. Thomas smiled and pulled away, looking deeply into the shorter man's eyes. They were wide open in shock, and he saw his pupils dilate.
"I can't believe you love me," Thomas said, smiling like a dork, "I can't believe you kissed me back!"
James laughed and pecked the taller man's cheek, his cheeks still red. "Of course, I do," he said, "I can't believe you fell in love with someone like... me."
"Well, I wouldn't regret kissing you again, that's for sure," Thomas said, smirking. James smiled and leaned in again to kiss the taller man again.
Thomas chuckled, closing his eyes to kiss the shorter man he loved again. He wasn't even hungry anymore. He had James. And James had Thomas.