AN: Thanks to all of those who have read and reviewed, I really appreciate it. Sorry that my chapters are short. I'm going to be trying to make them longer.
Chapter 3
A knock on the general's office door broke through the tense atmosphere, Alexander quickly getting to his feet. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he then redid his ponytail, and stood to the side quietly. Washington unlocked the door and opened it to greet the person behind it. As the general conferred with the messenger, Hamilton had a moment to process what had just happened. A chilling dread sunk down into his bones, the knowledge of what he had just stumbled into causing a stone to settle in his gut.
Hearing parting words from the general, he locked it away to be dealt with later, standing up straight, waiting for his next direction. The door closed, and Washington turned to face the short man, stepping towards him. Raising a hand, he cupped the back of Hamilton's neck, bending slightly to look him in the eyes.
"Remember, to everyone else, you are simply my right hand man." Yanking Alexander forward, he crushed their lips together, forcing his tongue into the young man's mouth, digging his nails into Hamilton's neck when he didn't reciprocate enough. Once he's had his fill he drew back, rising to his full height. "You are dismissed."
"Yes sir."
Leaving Washington's office, Alex made his way through the building and out to the nearby river. Collapsing on the bank, he rinsed out his mouth, coughing and gagging as his mind replayed his session with the commander. Rubbing his face, he covered his eyes with his palms, resting his elbows on his knees. His thoughts were racing, images and emotions flashing through him. He felt tears beading down his cheeks, soaking into his sleeves. He never thought that such a revered man would do those things. Rape and blackmail. Perfect. His throat burned and ached, no matter the amount of cool water he drank to soothe it. And he could feel bruises forming on his neck, as well as the imprinted crescent shapes of the general's nails.
He needed to rise above his station, and right now this was the only way he could ensure that. He'd heard what Washington had said, and a powerful man such as him could definitely make sure he got nowhere in his endeavors. He'd learned several things from that experience. First, no matter how much it pained him, he needed to keep Washington happy. Second, he had to act as though he enjoyed everything, or at the very least, reciprocate all of the general's actions when it came to this affair. And third, he had to keep this a secret until the day he died. This was no different than the other unfortunate events in his life, he convinced himself. He had survived the fever that had taken his mother, and he had managed to live through the hurricane that claimed his home. He had worked his way up to where he was now, no matter how meager a stance, and he was not throwing it away.
A steely resolve rose in him, the same one that had driven him to rise up out of the obstacles that had always been in his way. He would survive this too, he would use this situation to learn, and to gain sway in the nation he was fighting to create. He had nothing to lose, but everything to gain from this, no matter how unpleasant. He was Alexander Hamilton, and there are a million things he hasn't done, George Washington would not stand in his way.