Thomas Jefferson/Alexander Hamilton

STEADY

Summary:Alexander and Thomas keep each other upright, help each other be steady and not fall into what could be despair. They banter, they fight, and they love each other. But there's days where they just need to be held, be reminded that they have each other's back.

*Established relationship. Warning for: holes in the narrative, hurt/comfort, hurt Alexander Hamilton.


Hold me tight.

Thomas wrapped his arms around Hamilton's smaller frame, bringing the man closer to his chest. Alexander whined, a small, high-pitched sound from the back of his throat, and firmly pressed himself against Thomas. He let out a ragged breath, and pulled one of Thomas' hands away from his mid section, entwining their fingers and giving a soft squeeze.

"What is the matter, love?" Jefferson whispered softly against Alexander's hair. He didn't get an answer, and his free hand went to caress his boyfriend's arm. "Are you upset? Perhaps something that happened at work?"

Silence answered once more, and he pressed his lips to Alexander's head firmly. He'd be worried if they hadn't shared this experiences before. He'd be worried if Alexander's breath was more quick, less controlled. He'd be worried if Alexander's body shook against his, and if broken sobs escaped those lips he adores so much. But Alexander's doing nothing of that. He's just quiet, still in his arms, breath a bit ragged, yes, but he's not showing any obvious sign of distress. Alexander was a resilient person, Thomas knew. He also knew all it took was a small nick in the right place for his walls to crumble, for his foundation to shake and for Alexander to fall on his ass and see all his resolve be blown away. This of course was covered up by a well-practiced facade. A mask he often put on in order to get through life. But he knew that in the solitude of their bedroom, Alexander would confide in him and let that drop. He'd expose himself to him. So he didn't worry at the moment.

He nuzzled Alexander's neck, soft kisses being pressed against his shoulder. "Did I say something upsetting at work? I stepped over the line, darling?" He hums after Alexander answers him with a soft 'No', just a whisper he's able to hear due to the stillness of the night, the silence of their room. "You want me to tell a joke? Want to watch T.V.?" Hamilton answers with a short shake of his head, a firm statement of a 'No'. Thomas thinks hard, putting his chin over Alex's shoulder. "I am running out of options, love." Thomas confides.

He doesn't like seeing Alexander like this. The roaring flame that moved his every step and fueled his every word and action, bringing life to those defiant eyes of his, igniting his desire to speak out his thoughts on every matter he wound himself around— that same flame dying to a small spark that seemed to be lost and engulfed in water, putting it off, was always something that made Thomas' stomach churn in a way he despised. Because he wasn't used to Alexander's energetic personality be dulled down to a silent man who would just look at you with empty eyes. He wasn't used to it. Sure enough, they had been through this more than once, had spent days and nights discussing the matter, laying down the steps they would be taking if they fell to this routine, this state Alexander fell to. It was okay, Thomas had told himself long time ago. Because he understood Alexander's burning flame could only burn for so long before the man he loved would hit a bump in the road and his loud words would be quieted down by the thoughts that plagued his beautiful boyfriend. Thoughts Thomas could do nothing but wait for them to leave the man, thoughts Thomas could only hope he could muffle with his words of adoration, of praise and love he'd often whisper to Alexander in these moments.

From the very beginning, Thomas had made it clear he couldn't understand the reasoning behind them, but he soon accepted there wasn't a need for reasoning. It just happened at times.

'Some times, Thomas, I find myself falling in a pit. It is not what I desire, and it is not a place I like to be. But some times, Thomas, I find myself unable to move from it.'

He remembered the time Alexander had told him that, after Thomas had raked his hands through his hair the night before, trying to pull Alexander out of his dulled state and ending up holding him between his arms, settling with cuddling his small frame against his. It had been on a more positive light Alexander had spoken out loud. It had been that same sharp mind that had laid down the facts to him, trying to reassure him that it was okay if Thomas couldn't do a thing to lift his spirits, although his attempts were welcomed and appreciated in a way Alexander said words could not express.

'There isn't always a reason, and I know I'm difficult in those times, Thomas. All I ask is for you to hold me, and I'll know that, even if I've fallen into this pit, I can always count you'll be lending your hand to pull me out from it.'

So Thomas does whatever he can to make Alexander know he has his back. He won't push him to speak to him, because he knows all he can do is wait for Alexander to get a hold of his hand and crawl out of the pit he's fallen into, all the while showing he'd be there if he were needed.

"Firmer." Alexander's command leaves Thomas confused, and he voices out this. "Rub my arm more firmly. Not so soft, please."

He'd almost forgotten he had taken upon himself to caress lightly his boyfriend's arm, losing himself to his thoughts as he carried out the action subconsciously. He did as told, his fingertips moving over tanned skin with firm strokes, with patterns drawn in whatever way his fingers wanted to move. A sigh of relief was left out by Alexander, and Thomas could feel him pressing up against him more, he could feel the press of his back against his front, firm, steady, just as the hand holding his squeezed with equal steadiness.

And he got it. Knew Alexander just needed to be reminded he was here. He need to be grounded to this reality, probably a necessity of whatever thoughts were fleeting through his mind. And he was happy with providing that, so he let Alexander curl against him, let his own leg wrap over his boyfriend's legs. If he could provide Alexander's mind some peace, he'd gladly do so. He'd hold him between his arms, against his body, and he'd whisper sweet words against his ear.

"Whatever you ask for, love. We don't even have to go to work tomorrow. We can call in sick, and we can stay all day in the house. We can stay in bed if that's what you want."

"I'd love that, Thomas."

If the way Alexander's body relaxed against his isn't enough to make Thomas' heart quiver with the love he felt for Alexander Hamilton, the way he whispers his name, with devotion and love, surely makes his body be washed over with the sheer unadulterated love he feel toward him. He smiles softly, feeling his chest burst with the amount of care he has come to feel for who once he could have called an enemy of sorts.

But the way Alexander's eye shine, brimming with love as he turns to face him, smiling in a way that is more blinding than the sun, in a way that makes his head spin and his thoughts stop, makes worth every single struggle they've gone through. He captures those lips he loves so much in a quick, chaste kiss.

"Let's rest, Alexander. Tomorrow I shall pamper you with my love."

And there's a stir in the dull mood of his beloved, a small, light laugh that makes his worry fade away. Thomas Jefferson swears Alexander's laugh, small as it is now, makes his soul ache in a way he can't explain, and he's more than happy and content with just sharing the night between a comfortable silence, before there's a soft snoring that's tell-tale of Alexander's mind giving up to sleep.

"I love you, Alex." He whispers, before closing his eyes and following down the path of sleep.


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This is just a set of fanfics of hurt/comfort (or attempt to).