Slick sweat poured from underneath his apron making his armpit smell like the dumpster out back.
His back was in the shape of a pretzel and he hadn't sat down for ages. It had been a grueling day at work, however, Alex still was enjoying every succulent second.
He had too because Jefferson -his snake of a coworker- left early and this was the only time Alex could breathe without his snide comments about "In France blah blah blah"
So, he was just left with the salty cashier, Burr, and his boss-HERE COMES THE GENERAL- George Washington.
Alexander snorted at the running joke that Washington was basically a War general in disguise which lead him into similar thoughts leading him to stray into other thoughts regarding the old man.
He had been with Hamilton since the beginning always assisting him even after Alex had basically snapped his head off at every suggestion.
They had always insisted on treating him like a son and while deep down Ham appreciated the sentiment he still couldn't ignore the feelings, the emotions, the yearning for something more.
It was something with how the man always held himself that made Alex feel something warm yet exciting stir inside him. Something that his boyfriend George III never quite accomplished.
He bit his lip trying to suppress such, unsavory-"let's be honest they were anything but," a small voice chimed in his head- ahem vulgar thousand thoughts and instead focus on the task at hand. 'Oh how his hands would feel on my-Nope Nope No, currently saying no to that line of thoughts"
Last time he drifted off with this category of thoughts while working he'd been thinking about a neighbor of his -Ms. Maria- and he'd only gotten burned in the process. It isn't fun explaining to Burr why he wanted ice.
Still, his actions betrayed his work ethic and slowly the thoughts became images and now he just- just give him a couple of minutes-or hours- to take care of this and he swears to Groff he would get back on track.
Ahahah, Lies, all of it.
If he even indulged himself he knew he'd never come back from that abyss- A hand suddenly shook his shoulder and that jolted him into reality just in time to hear good-hearted laughter.
Wait that laugh-He flushed a deep crimson as he realized the hands on him.
The hands of the man he just fantasized about.
Alex sniffed, trying to hide his embarrassment with being indignant, turning around and, with much difficulty, pushing George's hand off his shoulder.
George's laughter soon died down, with a thoughtful look now adorning his oh so breathtaking face before questioning, "Son, are you feeling well?"
Shaking off whatever daze was remaining Ham cleared his throat," Um, no problem here, sir," he mumbled hoping for the man away from him.
However, this only caused Washington to have the crease in his deepen. Ham couldn't pinpoint why he just said he was fin-Oh. That's when it hit him. He didn't protest to being called son.
He always protested against the term, yet he was so distracted by his boss he couldn't even manage that. It wasn't even something he could brush off because soon enough Washington's hands-his oh so large, scrumptious hands were enveloping his forehead.
Weakly, he tried to push away the hand Alex stuttered, "Uh- S-sir? " which was only met with Washington humming in disapproval.
Alexander, ignoring the impulse to slap away his boss's hand and go hide in a closet, he instead focused on controlling his breathing. However, with each intake of Washington's masculine smell, he felt himself breathing heavier and more rapidly.
He didn't know how to pinpoint it. All he could distinguish was the earthy tinge that seems to warm parts of himself not suited for an ahem business environment.
During his delirious musings, Washington came to his own conclusion, a brief smirk flashing on the man's face and disappearing before Hamilton could notice, before commenting,"Son, you're looking really red, hot even? Maybe you should go home early?"
Snapping out of his pubescent boy dreams once more and finding whatever remaining Common Sense (By Thomas Paine) he had left he'd finally shoved Washington away. Leading him to get a good feel of his muscles and instantly regretting his decision.
Ham, recently freed from a crack shippers strings, adjusted his apron and responded,"Sir, I'm fine. I can just get back to work right away-"
But, Washington had other plans apparently as he snatched Hamilton's hand, tugging him close before Alex could even process the movement.
Hamilton was alarmed to a reasonable degree, but he was not complaining in the slightest. Alas, the plot demands it so Alex's head shot up, his face flushing darker if that was even humanly possible. He bit his lip like any good protagonist as he breathlessly asked, "W-Washington? "
The man in question remained silent, only letting his eyes- for Groff sake, he could write books about that man's eyes - wandered over Hamilton's frame. Alexander felt himself fidget under Washington's intense gaze, not really knowing how the paragraph would progress.
That was when, Washington's smooth, rich, creamy voice said had answered, "Well, Alex, you see,"
George leaned closer to Ham with his breath grazing Alex's ear and tongue only centimeters away, "I really think you're looking a bit steamy over there, and it would be a shame for you to worry and old man like me,"
Washington threaded his fingers through Lin's-uh-I mean Hamilton's amazing hair-tugging on it with one harsh flick causing Ham to gasp from either pain or excitement, he couldn't tell.
Seeing Alex's response Washington smirked before huskily whispering," Then again you've already been making me feel certain things for a very long time."
For the first time in forever, Alex was speechless.
His body completely shut down, his mouth felt dry, his hands felt stiff, and he honestly couldn't describe the amount of bliss he felt at the man's words.
He didn't protest when Washington gently picked him up or even when he strolled past Burr or any other judgmental old lady on the street right into George's Mansion that every romantic interest has to have.
When Alex was finally set down and snapped out of his daze, he was more surprised than he expected. He expected lavish halls, large expensive art pieces, queen sized beds with stained crimson silk.
Instead, he literally got a zoo.
The lavish halls there were jagged and splintered bars. Instead of the expensive and tasteful works of art where there was literally just animal...feces...everywhere.
Then to top it all off, he had the king of the jungle himself right in front of him.
Except..in ape form…?
George Washington is now an ape.
His boss and suPPOSED LOVER was an ape.
The ape-er-dad- der-George. Ignore that.
George was crouched above Hamilton, sniffing him eagerly. Hamilton awkwardly shifted half terrified and half intrigued on what was going on with the plot.
Clearing his throat he asked, "Sir? Why are you…" He trailed off not sure if his comment would offend him.
Sure he would love to ask a thousand questions in a second, but at the time there was an ape in front of him that could most definitely snap his throat in half.
George tilted his head curious on what he meant before glancing down at his fur and laughing. " An ape?" George finished.
"Sir, why are you laughing..? You're an ape." Alexander questioned again as he watched this behemoth of an animal letting out giggles like a schoolgirl.
Washington soon after a full ten minutes of laughing, quietly commented, "We're all animals here." He patted Hamilton's shoulder in between breaths.
"What do you mean sir-" Hamilton choked as he looked down to see that he did indeed have fur on his body ad definitely was of the primate variety.
He sputtered in confusion, "Sir! What happened?"
George Washington snickered, which is weird.
Washington doesn't snicker. Washington doesn't giggle like a schoolgirl. The only person Alex knew who giggled was that sniveling brat of a co-worker Jeffer-
Hamilton slapped George's hand away.
Almost in a blur, he backed away from the man he knew wasn't his dream hottie. Who was instead, more of a snake in ape's clothing.
Quite literally.
The ape laughed hysterically before reaching behind his head, with Alex soon hearing the sounds of unzipping, and the fur peeled back and piled into a lump on the floor.
He soon heard the all familiar hissing sound as a serpent slithered from the ape costume.
Jeffersnake.
Hamilton felt his temper rise at the sight of him.
This was not what he had wanted for the evening.
He expected rose petals, some drinks, possibly a noise complaint from the neighbors, but not this.
His fists clenched his fur tightly as he tried to think of his happy place, but his happy place jumped off a cliff around five scenes ago. So, he was left with dealing with this.
Jefferson narrowed his snake eyes before snidely saying, "Oh, is Hammy boy smad that daddy isn't calling?"
Jeffersnake, ignoring the sound of Hamilton's teeth grinding continued, "Sorry boy, but here, we're all animals. So no more special treatment from daddy~"
Hamilton ignored him.
Just kidding he pounced like a mother clucking lion on that snake.
His furry ape hands easily clasped around the snake's small body, however, their wiggling kept distracting him from clawing through their flesh.
Jeffersnake was amused despite their circulation slowly being closed off.
Hamilton was pleased when his grip finally began to cause the rapidly squirming snake to finally slow before outright going limp in his arms.
Licking his lips, Alex tugged the snake's body eagerly watching the flesh tear in his hands.
But, he froze as instead of the red blood of angry men he saw black, the color of despair, stain his hands. It was almost similar to how the ink he used in his quill was.
Wait-what quill?
He worked a part-time job at a slightly decent food joint. He wasn't some dead dude using feathers for pens.
Then again, he looked around the zoo like mansion seeing that it was now a shapeless void.
All memories of the so called restaurant he worked at seemed distant and fake.
He didn't understand what sort of weird concept a food joint was anymore.
He didn't understand why in the world he was having such thoughts about the General, especially since he was in the midst of getting his plan through to congress and had bigger things to worry about.
That's when it clicked.
His plan.
The plan he drafted and meticulously edited.
The one that constantly needed his attention to the point that he could see all personal relationships and family he had held at gunpoint.
The plan that broke numerous of his precious quills, required so much ink and often caused him to lose so much sleep. Sometimes to the point of causing him to pass out more frequent than he'd like to admit
Hamilton finally woke up.
His wife was holding a rag to his forehead while cradling his head. He noticed the sharp pain in his side as well as the scattered ink tin across the floor.
Eliza, finally noticing he was awake, let out a sob/sigh of relief as she clutched him tightly, " Alex...Alexander, you scared me! I came in to get you for dinner and-and "
She couldn't seem to finish her sentence as she swelled further.
She truly had felt helpless when she saw him passed out with his sunken in cheekbones and eye bags indicating his intense searched him with her eyes, in an attempt to explain.
His heart ached as he saw the desperation in her eyes. The eyes that seemed so lost and his bizarre dream was soon forgotten.
Hamilton pushed aside the heartache, for now, to give her a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, my dear Betsy, I am not going anywhere."
She didn't seem comforted by this, but it made her quiet. After a brief second of processing what he'd said she shoved at his chest slightly, making a sound of disagreement, " Alex, you almost died!"
She threaded her hands through her hair, hair causing Alex to notice threads of silver already becoming evident, despite her young age.
She sputtered, "I...I..just want to give you peace of mind...to simply see you safe...happy," Looking away she mumbled, "...to be satisfied..."
Alex grinned, she had always cared despite how much of a lost cause he was with his immense emotional baggage.
He never deserved her, and never will.
Yet, he still had her by his side, till death do them part.
So, slowly getting up and reaching a hand towards her he said, "You being mine, and I being yours," Pulling her close into his embrace he finished, "is what makes me satisfied."
However, despite his words, his mind immediately wandered towards the letter he'd recently received a few nights before. He knew he was lying through his teeth, but he couldn't seem to stop.
Eliza should make him feel satisfied
That doesn't mean she would.
I do not own or claim to own characters or songs referenced in this story. I just wrote the crack.
This was supposed to be an April fools thing, but...ha...it just kept getting longer and longer. I really have no explanation for this.
-Rose