-Alex becomes super whinny
-He wants any physical contact he can get
-His hair makes it way up into a sloppy bun
-His glasses ride the brim of his nose
-He craves coffee, takes a sip and then sets it aside
-He doses off standing up,
-When he’s fallen asleep, he snores, one leg thrown over the back of the couch
-John is the complete opposite
-He’s drained, and he’s also whinny
-He loves to have his hair played with
-He zones out sometimes, daydreaming about sleeping
-He’s constantly yawning,
-He claims the tears are his soul leaking out
-John often falls asleep leaning against something- a wall, the counter, arms crossed.
-He’s super hyper
-Refuses to sleep no matter how tired he is
-Then he complains about the stinging in his eyes
-He’s acts like a child, pouting when you bring up sleep,
-Snores shake the house, arms always have to be wrapped someone
-Offended if someone breathes too heavily
-But will literally laugh at nothing for ten minutes until he’s crying
-Falls asleep with no warning
-Wakes up in someone’s arms and then apologizes for being so grumpy, “I was tired chéri.”
Hamilton Headcanons: Jefferson & Hamilton (part 4)
Hamilton moves in a week later, bringing some much-needed furniture, although they pretend to Washington that they wouldn’t be sharing a bed. After he leaves, they return Hamilton’s bed to the center of the room and stack both mattresses on top.
“Do you think we could get a cat?” Hamilton asks as they sit on the bed with bowls of ice cream for dinner a few days later. “Monty was pretty cool.”
“Perhaps,” Jefferson says. His phone rings and he gets up to answer it in the kitchen a few steps away. “Hey, James.”
Hamilton continues to eat and tries not to listen to the phone conversation, which sounds like a myriad of medical complaints and Jefferson assuring his friend he’s probably fine. Then offering to buy him multiple things.
Jefferson hangs up a few minutes later and Hamilton steps into the kitchen to wash his empty bowl and spoon. “Where does James work?” he asks.
“At his father’s firm.” Jefferson scrolls through his phone. “His title is assistant but the position is pure nepotism. He goes in whenever and does some paperwork and makes coffee. He has terrible migraines and can’t work long days.”
“I see.” Hamilton squirts a bit of soup in the bowl and scrubs it with a washcloth. “I’m guessing he doesn’t make much money?”
Jefferson chuckles. “Eavesdropping, where you? I help him out when I can with car payments and stuff.” He waves his hand at the crappy apartment. “That’s why I live here.”
Hamilton gives a quick grin and tries to leave the kitchen. Jefferson blocks the small entrance between the counter and wall. “Want to start that romantic involvement?” He reaches for his hoodie that Hamilton has adopted and pulls it off. “You want that, right?”
Hamilton nods. He lets Jefferson take his t-shirt but steps back when his partner goes for his jeans.
“Trust me.” Jefferson strokes Hamilton’s cheek and bends down to kiss him.
The kiss is intoxicating and Hamilton reaches for more when Jefferson pulls back. He lets Jefferson undo his jeans and steps out of them.
With no effort, Jefferson picks him up and tosses him on the bed. He undresses and lays his muscular body over Hamilton’s. He covers his partner’s face and chest with kisses, his deft fingers caressing all the right places.
Hamilton closes his eyes as moans and sighs escape. He snorts in surprise as Jefferson tugs down his underwear. He grabs his partner’s wrist. “Easy, TJ.”
“Hush.” Jefferson pushes him back against the pillows. He slips a hand under Hamilton and caresses his backside while pulling his underwear all the way off.
Hamilton’s heart pounds as Jefferson lowers his head. “I don’t—” He closes his eyes again, constrained to Jefferson’s touch.
He always thought his and John Laurens’ sex life had been pretty wild. He knew know how vanilla it had been.
Jefferson kisses him one last time. “Go clean up,” he murmurs. He gets up to hide the handcuffs.
Hamilton can barely move but manages to limp his way to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The hot water soothes his aches. He examines the multiple bruises on his body with satisfaction.
It was even better the next night. Jefferson exhibited endless energy in bed and kept Hamilton up late most nights during the week.
“I need a night off,” Hamilton whispers to him one afternoon at work. “I’m, like, raw.”
Jefferson smirks. “Let me see.”
Color floods Hamilton’s face. “Not here.”
“I’ll lock the door.” Jefferson moves across the room and turns the lock.
Sighing, Hamilton unbuckles his belt and pulls his clothes down.
Jefferson strokes him gently and kisses him. “You’ll be alright.”
“TJ, for real.” Hamilton tugs his clothes up, wincing as his underwear rubs his multiple tender spots. “Not tonight.”