Hamilton Oneshots [DISCONTINUED]

27. George Squared (part two)

Frederick hated funerals.  He hated seeing the pretty flowers, their beauty adding to the gloom of the air, the people crying, the sad piano music.  He hated every bit them.

So he thanked the heavens that he wouldn't have to go to Washington's.

George skipped around Washington's apartment, happy to finally move in.  Of course he did wish Washington would one day move back to England with him, he still had a distaste for America, but he was ecstatic to start living with the man again.  Washington's slow recovery from being weak, ridden with cancer to gaining his strength, returning back to the man he knew before, it all seemed like a dream, and he sure as hell didn't want to wake up.

"Freddy, the apartment below is going to file a noise complaint with all your jumping around," George chuckled, watching the blonde man's smile like his eyes were glued to it.

"I don't care," George said happily, throwing his arms around the larger man, hugging him tight.  "You can't fault me for being happy, I mean, this doesn't even seem real.  I can't believe you're okay, or that you still want me, or that you're letting me move in.  It's just so surreal," Washington smiled, sliding his hand up to the back of Frederick's neck, pulling the Englishmen into a soft kiss, relishing the closeness.  He was just as grateful, he thought his life was coming to an end, so the two practically spent every second together in apprehension, trying not to take each other for granted. 

Frederick rested his head in the crook of Washington's neck.  The two swayed in the quiet apartment, almost as if a slow song was playing in the background.  "I'm glad you're still around Georgie."

Washington smiled, rubbing Frederick's back.  "Me too, my king," he glanced at George's suitcases and boxes that were in the living room, waiting to be unpacked.  He finally had him back, the man he'd been missing for so long, and he wasn't letting him go.  "Me too."