@ My Jamilton Hoes

I wrote a fuckin, little drabble fic for my boys
This is NOT What it Takes to Pass a Bill, its just a short piece based on a sketch I did. 1350 words. I hope y’all enjoy it :p

Alexander’s arms give a dangerous worble beneath him before he allows himself to drop carpet with a muffle ‘thwupm’ and hiss of air. He breaths in deeply, the smell of stale air and dust filling his nose momentarily, then he lets it escape in another huff.

“I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that pitiful display” a sing song voice tells him

Growling under his breath, Alexander rolled himself over onto his back with shaking arms and shoots a glare at man beside him.

Thomas sits next to Hamilton with his legs neatly crosses, watching him thoughtfully  with his cheek resting in the cradle of his palm.  

Alexander scoffs, “Fuck you Jefferson, it’s not as easy as it looks” he does his best to sound indignant, but in truth he’s still trying to catch his breath.

“You were the army once” the taller man points out, moving to lean back on his elbows. “And now you can’t even do fifteen push ups…”

Hamilton scrambles into a sitting position. “Exercise sucked back then and it still sucks now. “

“Yea, but its good for you.” Says the other.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t awful.” Hamilton retorts. He folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not sexy like all those magazines would have you believe. It’s hot and sticky, you’re face gets all red and you can’t breath. Afterwards you’re just sweaty and gross and sore, and for what? So you can meet an idealized standard of beauty that is decided by the media. News flash, only ten percent of the population looks like that. Besides, my time is better spent writing now that I’m a cabinet member.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in shape” Thomas comments, shaking his curls out of his face.

“Of course there isn’t, there’s just no need to be-” Alexander’s eyes trail over his boyfriend. He’s ridiculously lean for someone who’s never seen combat, or a day of physical labor in his life He has huge biceps and a taut stomach. Alexander can spy the ridges of his abs under the loose white tank top Thomas wears, coupled with a pair of old grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. A flush creeps up his neck as his gaze rakes over the other man’s open legs.

 “- excessively so” he mumbles out the last part with attention still directed at the ‘issue’, the issue being the way the worn fabric collects around Jefferson’s crotch. He really wishes Jefferson wouldn’t wear that particular pair of sweats, they’re- distracting.

Thomas chuckles, snapping Alexander’s  gaze back up to his face. A smug smile curls the corners of his lips. “See something you like?”

Hamilton huffs, ducking his head in an attempt to hide his blush. “Show off.” He mutters.

This makes Jefferson laugh. “Well I happen to like being fit.”  he prods Alexander with his foot. “Come over here and make that fat ass of yours useful.” He says around a smile.

“I’m not fat and you know it!” Alexander shouts, indigence flaring in his gut.

Thomas rolls his eyes. “Shut up and hold my feet.”

Hamilton huffs, but still he shuffles over to where the other man is lying. He clasps his hands tightly around Jefferson’s ankles and press his full weight down on his toes though his knees. “I’m the average weight for someone my height, and am perfectly healthy.”

Jefferson tucks his hands behind his head. “I know Alexander.” The muscles in his stomach tighten as he pulls himself up to his knees, only and inch away from Alexander’s face. “I was just teasing.” He says sweetly, giving the other man a little wink before going back down.

“You were being an ass is what you were doing.” Hamilton snaps.

Up again comes Jefferson. “Just count why don’t you. Occupy your mouth with something other than insults and nonsensical political ramblings.”

“Fine.” Alexander grumbles. He watches as Thomas continues to hoist himself up with the sheer strength of his lower stomach. Watches how his hair poofs out around his head when he hits the floor. How perspiration starts to form on his skin when he reaches thirty. The way he huffs with exhursion around thirty seven, his brow drawing together as the act starts to grow strenuous.

“What number am I at” He half asks, half gasps the next time he comes up, pausing a moment to catch his breath.

“Forty” Alexander informs him, and Jefferson drops back to the ground with a sigh. “And you look god awful.”

Thomas growls through gritted teeth as he heaves himself up again. “I know-”he does a crunch “for a fact-” another “that you’re scrawny-” he does another, “Ass-”  he swallows down  breath before hoisting himself back up “can’t do this many in a minute” he puffs.

“Forty five” Alexander reminds him dully. “And you’re right, I can’t. Because I’m not a masochist .”

As he says this, Jefferson jerks up hard, trying to use momentum to get him those last couple of crunches. The sudden movement has Hamilton scrambling to recapture his hold on the taller man’s legs. It also, he notice with a flush, caused Jefferson’s shirt to ride up, exposing his well toned stomach to Alexander. The sight shouldn’t fluster him anymore, by this point Hamilton must have memorized  it twice over with his tongue, but it’s  just so defined. A fucking safely hazard, really and another reason Alexander likes to workout at home. He gets  jealous and Thomas loves praise, and he gets tons of it when they go out. Still, the newly displayed strip of skin makes him lose count as he stares, unabashed at the muscles as they constrict.

Suddenly, Thomas’ ankles  are wrenched from Hamilton’s grasp. His knees drop and in one swift motion that makes him gasp, Jefferson slides his legs underneath Alexander then props them back up at a forty five degree angle, effectively depositing the brunette in his lap. He lays one hand gently on Alexander’s thigh, while the other goes up to carefully pull out the hair band holding his hair in a lopsided ponytail.

“Still think exercise isn’t sexy?” Jefferson asks suggestively, and slightly breathless, his lips draw up in a smirk.

Alexander coves his whimper with a scoff. Thomas hand cups his lower back, drawing him closer, while he uses the other to prop himself up.

“You reek” Alexander mutters, tangling a hand in Jefferson’s hair near the base of his neck.

The other man hums in response. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“Shut up.” Alexander says gruffly, then  leans in to nip at Thomas’ lips.


HALLO I am Jörg I am “birb” from GERMANY! I like the site of the IMPORTANT BIRDS that is beautiful you make here! So so many hipy hippy happy birbs see, tell story of grand day und lifes. Such good I say becas I simple Deutsch Vogel “German birb” I like the “glameris styels.” Ok times I go have the time of frends! Auf Wiedersehen!!!

a draw of birb from the GERMAG!  Fly all across a word visits the town of EVER FRIEN!  What a worbly doop!  THANK!