A/N:
And here's my Christmas-themed chapter!
I'm sorry but you'll have to wait for next chapter to see how it goes with Madison... I hope you enjoy this one for now!
Merry Christmas everyone! <3
P.S. when they talk about whiskey, remember that in 1791 there was the 'Whiskey Rebellion' and it basically happened because of Hamilton's whiskey tax.
***
Dear Thomas, despite being very shocked by my last discovery, the honesty of your letter made me inclined to meet with you and your friend as soon as possible. I can imagine why you decided to hold such a secret from me, but I'll need an explanation from both of you – I remind you, Thomas, that we've discovered a very grave piece of news about him and I can't turn a blind eye on it. I am sorry to say that I'll be quite busy for the following days. Therefore, I invite you – and your friend – to my house for the traditional ball I host for New Year's eve. We can talk about our business after dinner, if this arrangement is comfortable for you. James
Thomas breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he read the content of James's brief note. A couple of days before, he'd sent him a long letter trying to explain the circumstances of his relationship with Hamilton, without making names or details explicit – they couldn't risk to write everything down, so he'd asked Madison to meet face to face in order to explain everything to him; fortunately, James seemed to have accepted his olive branch.
"Alexander," Thomas called the man who was sitting next to the fire, deeply absorbed in a book.
He didn't even notice Thomas coming next to him.
"Hamilton!"
"What?!" He jumped on the spot. "When did you get here?"
"I came back, like, twenty minutes ago – you even said 'hi' to me."
"Oh well, I didn't notice." Alex beamed at him and Thomas forgot about everything for a moment. "Is that a letter from Madison?"
"Oh, right." Thomas gave him the paper and sat next to him, placing one arm around Alexander's shoulders and smiling when the latter automatically leaned his head on Thomas's chest, his sharp eyes quickly scanning the note.
"That's great! Not only we're not going to jail, but we're also invited to a party!"
"I love your optimism, but if James isn't completely happy with our explanation, we'll have a very horrible New Year's party. You know that, right?"
"We'll talk him through it." He winked. "Aren't we the best speakers of the whole freaking country?"
"I guess you have a point." Thomas smiled at his partner's good mood. "You seem happy."
"Why, I'm surrounded by thousands of books, I can eat ice cream every night and I have a beautiful boyfriend I can make fun of," he joked, "and tomorrow's Christmas!"
"Did you just say I'm your boyfriend?"
"Who said it is you?"
"Well, you said 'beautiful', didn't you?"
Alexander laughed and threw the crumpled note at Thomas, who dodged it and blocked his arms with a hug, still waiting for an answer. When Alexander refused to speak up, Thomas started tickling him mercilessly, nimbly avoiding a punch and a couple of kicks from a very belligerent Hamilton.
"OK, I'll talk," he eventually cried, laughing breathlessly and raising his hands in surrender. "Yeah, I called you my boyfriend, whichever name should I use to define us?"
Thomas looked down at the little man, who was facing him with a challenging stare, perfectly ready to argue even on how to define their relationship, and felt infinitely lucky to have that hothead as his boyfriend.
"No, you're right, that's perfect." He hugged him again, hiding his face in Alexander's hair and sighing happily. "Having you here is the best Christmas's gift ever."
Alexander drew away from him with a very solemn stare and got up.
"Wait, that's not the only present," he blushed, "in fact, I've got a gift for you."
"Really?" Thomas smiled his brightest smile, he wasn't expecting Alexander to buy a Christmas present for him.
"Yes, and since tomorrow we're going to your daughter's house... do you want to open it now?"
"Yes, love, I can't wait to see it."
Alexander smiled, his ears still red – he wasn't used to all that corny boyfriend stuff – and rushed to his room to fetch Thomas's present. When he returned, Thomas was adding some logs to the fire, and a dumbwaiter had appeared next to him, covered with a cloth.
Alexander stood awkwardly in front of the couch and waited for Thomas to sit before showing him the item he was hiding behind his back. Thomas's hands were shaking when he removed the decorated cloth that wrapped it; it was an elegant walking stick, the wood finely decorated and his initials engraved on its golden handle. He admired the beautiful object for several minutes, noticing every detail of the carving, and then looked up at Alexander, speechless.
"I think you hated my 'fancy' walking sticks," was the first thing that came up to his mind.
"Err, that's right," Alexander shrugged, "but in the last year I've discovered that you're more than what you show in public, and I learned to love every single aspect of your personality – even your tasteless way of dressing – and I thought that it would have been nice to give you something that reminds you of me, even when we're in public and you can't hold my hand."
Thomas tried to say something but was tongue-tied, his eyes suddenly filled up with tears.
"You don't like it?" Alexander asked anxiously. "I've had it made in France, but I can send it back if –
He couldn't finish the sentence because he was literally tackled by Thomas and found himself on the ground, Jefferson's lips on his.
"I love it," he managed to croak, his voice holding the sweetest note Alex had ever heard.
Alexander was amazed beyond words by Thomas's reaction – it was usually him who was exaggerated in his displays of emotions, not Jefferson, but in the last days he'd discovered a lot more of Thomas than he'd even seen in NYC. He seemed freer and happier.
"It's my turn now," Thomas rose, offering his hand to Alexander, who got up in a jump.
"Yay, a gift for me!" He intoned joyfully, his shyness completely forgotten now that the deed was done.
Thomas chuckled and handed him a very small package, wrapped in the same cloth in which Alex had once received his waffles – the one with Thomas's initials embroidered on a corner. Alexander slowly opened it, uncovering a wooden box ("Can I keep the handkerchief this time?" "Oui, it's part of the gift.") The box held a beautiful quill whose extremity had a small metal item Alexander had never seen before. The feather was beautiful – probably swan's – and the sharp tip was decorated with squiggles.
"Is it a quill?"
"Yes, with a steel nib attached," Thomas added proudly. "It's the latest invention in writing techniques, the nib is longer and sharper than a quill and it doesn't wear out as quickly. You don't have to sharpen it and the quality of writing is superior."
"Are you aware that I'll kick your ass in the press with your very quill?"
"Do you like it?"
"It's perfect." He held the tiny object in his hands with reverence, his wide eyes full of wonder. "Can I try it?"
"Of course, mon coeur, but I was wondering if you'd like to drink something first." Thomas moved to the dumbwaiter, unveiling it and revealing some ingredients and a very small pot. "What about some hot chocolate?"
"You're kidding!" Alexander almost tripped over his own two feet, rushing towards the table.
"I'm not."
"You're spoiling me, you know that?"
"Yes and I love it."
When the clock struck midnight, it found them curled on the sofa, a cup of hot chocolate in their hands and a wide smile on their faces.
"Merry Christmas Thomas."
"Merry Christmas Alexander."
***
The following day was very chaotic for Alexander – they woke up way too early for his habits, had to get dressed properly and rode to the city to attend the Mass and meet with Thomas's daughters, Patsy and Polly, and his son-in-law, a very wary Mr Randolph.
"So, you've been kept here for the holidays by some government affair, I understood."
"Yup, correct," Alexander didn't want to be too specific, "you know, taxes, finances, banks – Mrs Randolph, congratulation on your first daughter, I've heard she's got all ten fingers and toes!"
Thomas almost laughed at Alexander's obvious attempt to change the subject and rushed to his aid by distracting his son-in-law with talks of politics.
When they reached the house, Alex and Thomas felt almost ashamed of Monticello's poor Christmas decorations – Mrs Randolph had had her house completely decorated with holly and pine cones, and a huge Christmas tree towered in the dining room, trimmed with ribbons and candles. The table was laden with different kinds of meat, vegetables and bakery products – the food was clearly too much for only five people, but they probably only wanted to impress their guests. They left their coats at the entrance and Thomas finally had the chance to exhibit his new walking stick ("Dad, that's amazing, where did you buy it?" "It's a gift from a very close friend of mine, from France!") and to secretly wink at Alexander every time no one was looking. They sat at the table and Alexander quickly grabbed Thomas's hand from under the tablecloth, squeezing it for a second before freeing it, as if to seek his help to make it through the day.
The supper lasted what seemed for Alexander to be an eternity. Mr Randolph asked him almost a hundred questions, and since he was a Democratic-Republican – of course he was – he seemed to disagree with every word uttered by his guest; Thomas had to mediate very hard to avoid direct confrontation. Fortunately, Alexander really wanted to impress Mrs Randolph and Ms Jefferson and so he behaved unexpectedly well – Polly was utterly fascinated with him. And when the nanny brought little Anne downstairs, Patsy was also very satisfied with Alexander's praises to the child; she even let him hold the baby, laughing merrily at the tenderness on his face while he lulled baby Anne in his arms. When Thomas, who was having an eggnog with Randolph, entered the room and saw Hamilton holding his niece, he almost dropped the glass – it was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen.
"Daddy, do you want to hold her too?" Mrs Randolph gently took the baby from Alexander's arms, her face shining with joy.
"Of course, Patsy, I've come all this way to meet her."
That was Alexander's turn to be struck by that lovely image. Thomas's serious countenance melted into something kinder and warmer. He carried baby Anne around the room while talking softly or humming to her, a sweet smile lighting up his face.
"Mr Hamilton, would you like a glass of whiskey?" Mr Randolph asked mischievously while Thomas wasn't there to stop him. "It's a very expensive one – considering the taxes and all, the price of such a bottle is now almost doubled."
"Yes, thank you." Alexander made certain that the ladies weren't too close to listen. "You should be happy to have all the money in the world to pay those taxes, Mr Randolph. You see, looking at your house it doesn't seem to be a sacrifice for you to pay some more dollars for a bottle."
Mr Randolph's face grew very red and he sputtered something like "how dare you", but luckily for both of them, Patsy choose that moment to place the baby into her husband's arms, and Thomas quickly dragged Alexander away.
"Are you insane?" Thomas hissed, "I thought you were that rude only with me – and occasionally with Burr."
"Are you jealous?" He replied sarcastically. "Look, Thomas, I can't just stay there and listen to his insinuations without reacting."
"I know you can't," Thomas sighed. "I think we'd better go."
They waited until the nanny took Anne back to the nursery room, and then bade goodbye to their hosts. The atmosphere had suddenly become very tense, Mr Randolph was still looking askance at Hamilton and he'd probably told something to his wife, because she was upset too.
"We know that you're here only because President Washington has forced my father-in-law to invite you," Randolph whispered to Hamilton while Thomas was hugging his daughters.
Alexander smiled slightly – if only he knew the true reason why he was spending his holidays in Virginia.
"And Mr Jefferson had been very polite not to make you feel like a burden," he added, "but you are, we don't want bastard immigrants in this house –
In the following moments too many things happened in a very quick order: Alexander instinctively raised his fist, but hesitated a second before punching Thomas's son-in-law; a woman yelled something he couldn't understand; lastly, he saw Mr Randolph falling on the ground. But it wasn't him who'd punched the man. It was Thomas.
"If I hear another word coming from that filthy mouth of yours, I swear I'll disinherit you all," he threatened in a growl. "I thought better of my family's hospitality – Mr Hamilton and I, despite being political enemies, have been able to put aside our conflicts and sit together for Christmas. You should be ashamed of yourself."
He turned and exited the house without looking back at Mr Randolph or Patsy, who'd threw herself on the ground to help her husband, her face covered in tears. Alexander muttered his apologies and walked to the door, guilt already crushing him. He felt a soft hand taking his and turned to face Polly, Thomas's younger daughter, who was looking at him with sympathetic eyes. She smiled shyly and her lips articulated a silent "I'm sorry" before letting him go. Alexander gave her a weak smile and followed Thomas, who was already on his horse, ready to go home.
"I'm sorry, Thomas, I shouldn't have come," he said quietly while they rode back to Monticello.
Thomas didn't answer, he was probably too upset to talk with anyone – or perhaps he simply didn't hear him, Alexander couldn't say.
In the following days Thomas seemed to be always busy doing something. He went out for long rides in the morning – sometimes Alexander went with him, but they both liked to ride quietly and so they didn't talk very much – and once he got home, he usually occupied his time by gardening, polishing fossils, cooking, building extravagant objects or reading. Alexander had the whole library for himself and he was quite happy with it for a couple of days, but after a while he realised that Thomas was avoiding spending time alone with him. They hadn't talked about what had happened at Christmas yet, and Thomas seemed to be resolved not to do it in the close future. One night, Alexander went to bed and waited for him, but Thomas never came; Alex found him the next morning sleeping on his desk, his face buried in papers and a stain on ink on his forehead – he'd probably fallen asleep while working, another activity he'd chosen to avoid thinking about their relationship.
After waking up and washing the ink away from his face, Thomas went to look for Alexander and found him in the guest room, packing his bags to leave.
"Alexander," he called him, a note of panic in his voice, "what are you doing?"
"What do you think?" He retorted without turning. "I'm going home today."
"I thought we decided to spend the New Year together; what about Madison's party? We have to go and talk with him."
"Well, you can tell him not to worry," he answered bitterly after a second. "I won't be disturbing you anymore."
That was too much for Thomas to bear; he grabbed Alexander's shoulder and forced him to turn.
"Alexander, what the fuck are you saying –
"Look, we gave it a try and it didn't work, let's face it!" Alexander looked at him with joyless eyes. "Since I came here we've been discovered by your best friend and colleague, and you've punched your son-in-law to defend my reputation!"
"So what?"
"I'm already ruining your life, Thomas! Can't you see that?"
"No, I can't see it, because I didn't have a damn life before you –
"And now you don't even talk to me, you're avoiding me and we are supposed to face Madison in two days – how should I defend our relationship if I don't even know whether you still want to be with me?"
A short silence followed. "It's not me who's packing right now," Thomas answered sharply after a few moments.
"I'm going away because you've clearly regretted having introduced me to your family. I know I ruined your fucking Christmas, and I would have apologized a million times if you'd talked to me once in the last three days!" He concluded, turning his back to Thomas again to stuff his belongings in the bag.
Thomas knew Hamilton was right, he had avoided confronting him. He'd been extremely upset for the things his stupid son-in-law had said to Alexander, and he'd been angry at himself for believing that the plan 'invite-your-enemy-home-for-Christmas' could've worked. But he wasn't mad at Alexander; he'd just felt too guilty to talk with him and now he was feeling even worse for having ignored the problem for so long.
"I'm sorry, Alexander, it's all my fault," he said in a whisper. "Please forgive me, love, don't go."
Alexander stiffened at Thomas's words and slowly turned to face him. He looked like a wounded animal, he was always so wary when it came to trusting people's words.
"Aren't you mad at me?"
"Of course not." Thomas took his hand and press it to his heart. "I was too ashamed by my family's behaviour to talk to you, and now I see that it was silly of me to act like this – I made you believe that I had regretted having you here, while I can swear you that these last days have been the best of my life."
"Are you sure of it?" Alex smiled through the tears that were streaming down his face. "Thomas, I'm so sorry I ruined your Christmas!"
"Don't say that, love." He softly kissed Alexander's eyelids, the tip of his nose and finally his lips. "Come on, you punched Burr for way less than that, I'm so proud that you hesitated long enough to give me the chance to revenge your honour."
"Did you hear from your daughters?"
"Yes. Polly was mortified by Randolph's words, but Patsy is still too upset to write," he sighed. "She'll come around, don't worry."
"So... Are you done avoiding me?"
"Yes, my love, I'm so sorry I've been neglecting you in the past days. It won't ever happen again." Thomas kissed him tenderly, his heart beating extremely fast while he asked his next question – "Will you stay?"
Alexander faked a wavering face and then beamed at him.
"What about a hot bath to make amends?" He winked. "And then we can make peace."
"Très bien alors," Thomas offered him a tantalizing smile, "you've got yourself a deal."