Living a Lie [Jamilton]

Chapter 21

Trigger warning: drug mention, alcohol mention

Does this long chapter make up for the fact that I haven't updated since the war of 1812? Maybe? Possibly?

Enjoy!

Thomas Jefferson woke up beside Alexander Hamilton.

Alex was still fast asleep, his face as peaceful and still as that of an angel. His long dark hair fanned out around his head like a strange headdress one would wear to a banquet in King Henry VIII's palace.

Thomas chuckled. He looked so innocent when he slept. Such a vast contrast from when he was awake. 

Thomas' smile faded as images from the previous night flooded his mind. 

The wild look in Alex's eyes, feral and unhinged like a half-starved predator stalking its pray. The feeling of Alex's hands on his body, the way he'd desparately clung to him the way a man stranded at sea clings to a rock. 

Thomas had wanted him. 

Had wanted him more than anything. Had wanted him more than starving man wanted food, more than a drowning man wanted oxygen. 

Thomas had wanted nothing more than to forget Lafayette and the guilt and the confusion and the sadness and fuck Alex until he forgot his damn name. 

Thomas' cheeks grew hot with shame as he recalled that hideous moment of weakness, the moment where he'd considered betraying the most amazing man he'd ever met, considered throwing away all of his promises and all of those years of friendship for the temporary pleasure of being with Alexander Hamilton. 

I'm so sorry, my dearest Lafayette. I am so sorry, my love. 

Just as Thomas was about to start crying, Alex's eyes fluttered open. 

He looked incredibly small and vulnerable, the soft white blanket pulled up to his nose, his enormous brown eyes staring sleepily out of his flushed face. 

"Thomas..." Alex whispered, his voice so quiet Thomas could almost  have convinced  himself he'd imagined it. 

"Alex." Thomas said, lying back down beside him. 

Alex reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

"Thomas... I'm sorry." Alex said, his eyes fixed on the bedsheets between them. "I'm sorry I came onto you like that. I-It was wrong and disgusting and I shouldn't have done it." 

"Alexander, it's quite alright." Thomas said. "You were in distress and you weren't thinking clearly. You have nothing to apologise for." 

Alex was silent for a few moments. His shoulders started to shake, and Thomas realized that he was crying. 

"I'm a monster." He sobbed. "I'm a monster. I grabbed you, Thomas. I touched you. I forced myself upon you and screamed at you to fuck me. I'm a monster. I'm the one they warn everyone about during those sexual assault prevention seminars. I'm the one children's parents warm them about." 

Thomas pulled his hand out of Alex's and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"Alex, you're not a monster. You're not evil. You were upset and you made a mistake. You're not a monster. Listen to me, Alexander: I'm not angry with you. I'm not upset. You did nothing wrong. You made a mistake. Making a mistake does not make you a monster." 

"You promise? You promise I'm not a horrible person?" 

"I promise, Alexander." 

I'm a monster.