Aaron tightened the strip of leather, binding Hamilton's hand to the back of the chair he sat in. He stood, taking the riding crop left on the shelf in his hand and running it along the other man's jaw. "How does an arrogant, immigrant, orphan, bastard whore's son somehow endorse Thomas Jefferson, his enemy, a man he's despised since the beginning, just to keep me from winning?"
Hamilton opened his mouth to respond, promptly earning his a slap on the cheek with the crop.
"I wanna be in the room where it happens," he muttered, tracing his lover's facial features with his finger, "the room where it happens," he stepped back, "the room where it happens." He raised the riding crop up. "You've kept me from the room where it happens," Aaron brought it down, hitting Hamilton's shoulder and giving him an angry red mark, "for the last time."
He stayed silent, jaw clenched. His shoulder ached. If it weren't for the fact that this were all role-play, Hamilton would've hauled off and punched him.
"Dear Alexander, I am slow to anger, but I toe the line. As I reckon with the effects of your life on mine," he gave him a slow kiss on the lips, "I look back on where I failed, and in every place I checked, the common thread has been your disrespect." With the final syllable of his though, a slap went across Hamilton's face. "Now you call me 'amoral', a 'dangerous disgrace', if you've got something to say, name a time and place, face to face." He slid a contract onto the desk where Hamilton sat. "I have the honour to be your obedient servant, A. Burr." He signed the contract like so.
Hamilton looked up, giving Aaron a sly smile. Putting on his game face, he responded as he only could. "Mr. Vice President, I'm not the reason no one trusts you. No one knows what you believe. I will not equivocate my opinion; I have always worn it on my sleeve. Even if I said what you think I said, you would need to cite a more specific grievance. Here's an itemised list of thirty years worth of disagreements."
"Sweet Jesus," Aaron thought, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, I've not been shy. I'm just a guy in the public eye, tryin' to do my best for our republic. I don't wanna fight, but I won't apologise for doing what's right. I have the honour to be your obedient servant, A. Ham." He signed similarly.
The contract was moved off of the desk and onto the shelf, where it couldn't be damaged. Aaron tied Hamilton's other free hand behind him on the back of the chair.
"You sure about this?" Aaron asked, breaking character for a moment. He needed to be one hundred percent sure Hamilton was on board with this.
His lover nodded. "Hell yes."