A/N: This is my first attempt at a tickle fic. I'm taking requests if anyone wants something specific!
All the perfect circumstances were in place, and only a little bit of help from Madison was needed. Now, Thomas obviously hadn't told his friend his entire plan; James would think he was insane. But something deep down told Thomas his plan would work, and he could have some fun while he did it. It was no secret to anyone who worked under Washington that Hamilton frequently slept on the clock. It wasn't often; he only napped when things were uneventful and the he had nothing to do for the day. Today was one of those days. Thomas peaked his head into Hamilton's office, making sure to be as quiet as he could be. Surely enough, there was Hamilton with his head resting on his arms, peacefully snoozing. Thomas gave the sleeping man a smirk before softly closing the door behind him. Perfect.
Washington was out for a meeting that day. Also perfect. That meant there would be nobody around to interfere with any... mischief that could take place. The rest of the employees worked on the lower floors, essentially leaving only Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison with their own offices on the top floor. All Thomas had to do was ask his companion for a favor, and James was on his merry little way back to Thomas's house, a good half hour drive either way.
"Good morning, Alexander," Thomas said cheerfully as his coworker opened his eyes.
Alexander was immediately annoyed, but went to stretch only to discover that his hands were bound behind his chair by what appeared to be his own belt. "Jefferson, what the hell is this?" He asked upon realizing his feet were in a similar position, bound by another belt.
"Just a little bit of fun," Thomas answered, taking the spare seat and propping the smaller man's feet up on his lap. "For once, I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen."
"Is this some sick fetish of yours?"
"Mm, not necessarily. But I'm still going to enjoy it." He began to take off Hamilton's boots, teasing Alex for the heels. "Trying to feel taller, Hamilton?"
"Why are my shoes off?" Alexander asked, suddenly feeling slightly nervous about what his nemesis had planned.
Thomas ignored the question. "So, you know how Washington always takes your side? And you just jabber so nobody else can get a word in?"
The younger man nearly snorted. "Mr. Washington takes my side because my ideas don't suck, unlike yours."
"Tsk. You're in no position for that kind of attitude, Hamilton." Just like that, Alex's socks were gone, joining his shoes on the floor.
Before Alex could question this, two of Thomas's fingernails began slowly travelling down the sole of one foot. He giggled in spite of himself, yanking his feet off his coworker's lap. "What are you doing?!"
"Don't tell me you aren't familiar with tickling, Hamilton. You're not that stupid." Jefferson pulled the other man's feet back onto his lap, keeping ahold of the belt to stop him from escaping. He lightly spider tickled as he explained, "It's just a little persuasion tactic. You're going to shut up at the next company conference. Let someone else take the cake... An underappreciated marketing president, for example."
"I'm go-ohohohoing to te-hehehehell-" The laughing man struggled to get his sentence out, wiggling in his chair desperately.
"Going to what? Tell Mr. Washington?" He jeered. "Tell him what? That I tied you up and tickled you? No, he won't believe that. Daddy won't help you out of this one, you spoiled brat." He paused his assault on Alexander's feet to pick up a long, feather quill from the desk. "Recognize this?"
"You went through my desk! You're so dead," Alex protested, which went unacknowledged by his attacker.
"Why do you even have one of these things? We have pens, Hamilton, get with it," Thomas rambled, using soft tip of the feather to tease his victim's arches.
Alexander squirmed anxiously, but wasn't laughing yet. "Jefferson, this is ridiculous. Just let me go."
"We've barely had any fun yet, Alex," Jefferson ran the feather between two of his toes, earning a surprised squeak from the smaller man. He repeated the motion several more times before he turned the feather around and attacked Alex's soft soles with the quill end, reducing his enemy to a squirmy, giggly mess.
"This isn't funny!" Alex forced out through the laughter. He was kicking and spinning a little in his swivel chair, but Jefferson had his feet held tightly. Curse his having the same build as a spaghetti noodle.
"Actually, I find this quite funny. And you obviously agree, since you're laughing." Thomas smiled as he continued to assault Alex's feet, eventually abandoning the quill in favor of his own fingers.
Poor Alex was forced to laugh until his face turned red and he was gasping for breath before Thomas would allow him a moment of rest.
"Just tell me that you won't be a little bitch at our next conference, and this could all be over."
"Fine!" Hamilton agreed immediately, desperate for a way out. "I'll let Washington accept your awful ideas!"
Alex briefly received a dirty look before Thomas's fingers went back to his feet, immediately going to his most ticklish spots there.
"You know, I offered you an escape. It's almost like you enjoy this, We can do this for the next hour if you'd like." Jefferson's gibe sounded like an honest threat.
Alexander was half-regretting his childish jab at the other man already. His remorse only grew when his opponent produced a bottle of baby oil from under the chair and screwed the cap off.
"I almost feel bad for this. But not really." Thomas held Alexander's feet out to avoid getting the oil on his nice pants as he covered his victim's feet, leaving them looking smooth and wet. He rubbed it in somewhat, allowing Alexander a moment of calm before the storm.
The smaller man's eyes widened at the site of a hairbrush finding its way into Thomas's hand. "I picked up a spare this morning just for you," he explained, trapping Alex's oil-drenched feet with his arm. "Any last words?"
"I'll support your dumbass plan, Jefferson! Please... Let me go," Alexander's face was bright red as he begged Jefferson- Jefferson, of all people- to set him free. "Whatever it is. And I won't talk for longer than ten minutes."
"How nice of you," The tickler sneered. "I'm still going to do it, though."
"WAIT, DON-" Before poor Alex's argument could fully exit his mouth, Thomas began brushing his soles relentlessly, sending Alex's head backward in a fit of laughter as he kicking and pull at the belt around his wrists. "STOHOHOHOP!" He begged uselessly as Thomas kept going for as long as he wanted.
Eventually, the older man did have pity and cease the tickling, gently tossing the hairbrush onto the desk. "Remember, Hamilton. Because it will be so much worse if you break your deal."
Alexander nodded furiously, not wanting his ticklish feet to be in Jefferson's clutches ever again. Jefferson was kind enough to take the belt restraints off his limbs, returning his own to around his waist. He picked up the hairbrush and baby oil to take with him.
"I won't mention your... excitement," Thomas smirked, eyeing the bulge in Alexander's pants. "And I shall see you tomorrow, Hamilton."