Chapter 17

As December approached, Alexander was more and more occupied with his manufacturing plan; he spent most of the time hidden in his study, surrounded by books about economics, politics and reports of the banks of England and France – and even some books written in Latin and Greek. Eliza knew that during his workaholic periods Alexander lived in his own world, following his own timetable, and so she tried to be happy by knowing that he was eating, even if he usually had dinner during the night, and was probably sleeping sometimes too. In October they'd had a couple of important Cabinet meetings in order to vote on some relevant details they had to include in the plan, but in the end it was always he and Washington who discussed the issues, since Jefferson was firm in his opposition – he was still talking about the bucolic dream of an agricultural nation, without really considering the economic situation of the US. However, they'd had to collaborate for the foundation of the Mint, and it'd gone relatively well, even if Jefferson had won that fight and the Mint had become part of the State department, instead of being included in the Treasury's. Therefore, most of November passed by with Alex in his study, buried under his books, Eliza leaving him food on his desk without even speaking to him – he wouldn't have acknowledged her presence anyway – and Thomas trying to stop him from delivering his report to the Congress. Despite all their efforts, Madison and Jefferson eventually received notice from Washington that the Secretary had handed in the plans during the first week of December. Thomas felt both disappointed and relieved – yes, they'd lost, but he would finally see Alexander again without fighting or discussing about politics.

With the manufacturing plan out of his mind, he started organizing their journey to Monticello, sending some letters to make the right arrangements.

"Thomas, are you going home for the holidays?" One day, Madison's gloomy voice interrupted his flow of thoughts while he was trying to remember how many bottles of wine he'd last ordered from France.

"Yes, I can't wait to see my granddaughter," he mumbled distractedly. "Patsy and Tom will be happy to have some people home for Christmas."

"Is it someone else coming?" he inquired, trying not to sound too nosy.

"Oh, no, I mean –" Thomas quickly realised his mistake and shrugged apologetically. "It'll be just me, but Polly is also coming of course. We're not having a formal dinner as usual, it'll be only the four of us, plus little Anne."

"I'm going home too. Perhaps we can travel together – I could use some company."

"I don't know if I can, James." Thomas made up another lie at once. "I have to stop to Philadelphia and I'd like to pay a couple of friends a visit before carrying on to Monticello. I'm sorry."

"No need, we'll see each other there."

"Yes, great." Thomas smiled nervously at his friend. It probably hadn't been a good idea to invite his political enemy, and lover, to a place filled with people who wanted him dead. Hamilton was already well known in Virginia for his stands against slavery, and now was also fingered as the villain who'd raised the taxed on whiskey. Adding Madison to the equation was the final icing on the cake. Great.

***

"Alexander, wake up," Thomas called him, a note of joy in his voice. "Come on, we've arrived!"

Alexander groaned sleepily and rubbed his eyes, trying to adapt them to the bright light of that sunny December day – the sun's rays reflected on the thick white snow, hurting his delicate blue irises. He shivered and got out of the carriage, looking around with an amazed face: in front of him there was a magnificent building made of red bricks and white railings; the main door was towered by a small arcade with four columns, and elegant windows decorated the wide façade of the house.

"I think your jaw's just dropped somewhere in the snow" Thomas joked, amused and delighted by his reaction. "You know, I designed it. Come on, let's go inside, it's freezing."

"Yeah, let me take my bag first."

"No need, love, it will be taken care of."

"Oh, right –" Alexander had completely forgotten that Thomas had slaves at Monticello, but he didn't move from his spot anyway, looking doubtfully at his luggage. "Listen, Thomas, I don't want other people to do it if they're not paid for it."

"Look, we talked about that. You knew where you were going, right?" Thomas frowned at him, "so now you can either spend the rest of your days here crying about it – not that it'll change anything, since people will work for you anyway – or you can enjoy these days together and continue our never-ending fights on it after the holidays."

"You're such a dick!" Hamilton hissed through gritted teeth, while striding towards the entrance without looking at him.

Thomas followed him without adding another word, but watching him closely to catch every change in his countenance. He smiled slightly when they entered the lobby and Alexander looked around with an astonished face; the hall was quite big and filled with paintings and marble busts – Voltaire's was looking at them with his stony eyes from the main door, while Thomas's was on the right side of the room. Some faded maps, which plotted every detail of countries from different corners of the world, were hanging on the walls, and the fireplace had been already lit, spreading a very inviting warmth from the left side of the room. Above them, a white-railed balcony revealed some glimpses of the second-floor rooms.

"Do you want me to guide you for a quick tour?" Thomas asked happily. "I'd love you to see my study and the library."

At the word 'library' Hamilton's eyes lit again and he nodded at Thomas, trying not to give away his enthusiasm – and miserably failing, since a broad grin was already spreading on his face.

Thomas led him to the left wing of the house, were the library was, and waited patiently while Alexander looked at his immense collection of books for at least half an hour – he owned around nine thousands of them, but he'd taken his favourite ones to New York with him. Then he dragged him away from the library to his study, eager to show him his polygraph and some other objects he had there.

"Oh my goodness!" Alexander sat at the desk but suddenly grabbed on to the table and stood up, a surprised look on his face. "What is the problem with this chair?"

"It's a revolving chair," Thomas answered proudly. "I invented it."

"What does it do?" Alex slowly sat again, still a bit suspicious of it.

"It swivels," Thomas laughed. "It's very useful when you're working on different stuff, you don't have to twist around and – Alexander stop spinning it, you're going to break either the chair or some bones."

"All right, all right! Wow, you are such a pain in the ass sometimes."

Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed – he'd chosen his own hell by himself, after all.

"Wait a minute, why do you have a bed in the hallway between the study and the bedroom?"

"It's not a hallway! That's here," Thomas pointed at the right way. "It's an alcove. Look, you can close the folding screen if you want, so that you can have light and air, or privacy," and winked at him, making him blush. "And then, it's practical. I get up on the one side and I'm in my bedroom, the other one and I'm ready for my working day."

"Oh god," Alexander laughed, entering the room and looking around. "Anyway, you're a rich fancy smart-ass."

Thomas ignored him, too thrilled to argue, and pushed him back to the main hall.

"Your room is here." He opened another door, showing an octagonal elegantly furnished room.

"I thought we would sleep together!" Alexander's voice betrayed his disappointment.

"Of course, mon coeur, but we don't want other people to know about it."

"Yeah," he sighed again, sitting on the bed, "right."

"What's wrong?" Thomas cocked his head to the side, looking lovingly at him, as if to impress a mental picture of him in Monticello.

"I'm just tired, I think."

"You slept the whole journey."

"It's just that... I thought we would have been free to be together here," he looked at the floor, abashed.

"Alex, you know I'd love it more than anything else." Thomas sat next to him, circling his shoulders with his arm and kissing him lightly. "But we have to be careful. I promise you we'll be by ourselves most of the time, ok?"

"Yeah."

"Hey – look at me." He moved, kneeling in front of him and staring at him straight in the eyes. "I love you. I know it's frustrating sometimes, but we'll face everything together. I won't ever leave you, unless you ask me to."

Alexander blinked in confusion, he was actually starting to feel a bit dazed by the whole situation. He was in Virginia, where almost every citizen hated him as hell, in the house of his lover, which was full of slaves, and Thomas Jefferson was in front of him, professing his love –

"Why would I ever ask you to leave me?"

Thomas shrugged and got up, taking Alexander's hand in his and pulling him closer. He leaned a bit and then stopped right before kissing him, his face just an inch from Alexander's.

"What?"

"I love this moment," Thomas whispered, his lips nearly brushing his lover's, "the second before I kiss you, your eyes soften and your body relaxes completely, have you noticed that?"

"Are you trying to shame me to death?!"

"I thought nothing could," Thomas laughed and kissed him at last.

It was a strange sensation to kiss someone who wasn't Martha in that house. However, Thomas's mind didn't have the time to linger too long on that thought, since Alexander grabbed him by his waistcoat and almost threw him on the bed. Then, he climbed on top of him and kissed him again, eagerly, as if his restraints had been left back in NYC and he was finally free to let himself go, his blue eyes hungrily looking into Thomas's. In response, the taller man grabbed a handful of Alexander's hair and deepened their kiss, relishing the thought of having Alexander's unrestrained love all for himself at last. They'd probably lost track of time and a knock at the door made Alexander jump on his feet in a second, clumsily trying to fix his ruffled hair into a ponytail, while Thomas sat on the bed in a messy pose, his clothes crumpled as well as the bed sheets. Two men carried Alexander's luggage into the room and exited without a word.

"Tea?" Thomas asked, still breathing heavily.

"Do you have something stronger?"

"Of course, mon cher, let's go fetch some bottles of wine in the cellar."

A couple of hours later, they were in the dining room, laughing at the memories of their first meetings while eating chicken, cheese, turnips, beans and some strange green vegetables ("Those are broccoli, I cultivate them here, they're from Italy!") and even Mexican peppers.

"I thought you were a complete asshole!"

"You don't say!" Thomas snickered. "I think I might have noticed it when you started yelling at me the first night we met, at Washington's party."

"Yes, and you totally deserved it! You were being so full of yourself, showing off that stupid smile of yours and offering everyone your unwanted opinions!"

"Oh, come on love, we both know you were already falling for me," Thomas teased. "You couldn't stop looking at me, Madison noticed that."

"What?" Alexander was shocked. "I was only trying to figure you out, I didn't even know you, you moron."

"Of course."

"And then we meet again outside work and I catch you flirting with my wife, I knew you were a womanizer but –

"Who says I'm a womanizer?"

"Everyone knows you broke your wrist while trying to make an impression on a French girl," Alexander mocked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, right – said French girl was actually Lafayette, but the result was the same I'm afraid."

"You're a horrible person."

"Says the one who insulted me in the Cabinet, then insulted me out of the Cabinet, and, two days later, came to my house asking for my help."

"It was for a greater g –

"And in the meantime, he was also stealing my books from the library!"

Alexander chuckled, reaching out over the table to grab and open the third bottle of wine of the night.

"Wait, I've got a surprise dessert for you and I don't want you to pass out before trying it."

"I'm not going to pass out!" Alexander rolled his eyes, but put the bottle back on the table.

"Voilà!" Thomas uncovered two cups of a creamy and very inviting dessert.

"Is that ice-cream?"

"Have you already tried it?" Thomas was a bit disappointed, he was hoping to impress him.

"No, never. But I knew you used to have it as dessert for your dinners – even though I was never invited." Alexander faked a hurt face and then smiled. "Let's try it!"

It was delicious. Alexander ate two cups of vanilla ice-cream and stole some spoonfuls from Thomas's, earning a spoon blow on his hand and Thomas's endless complaints about his bottomless stomach.

"You stole half of it!" Thomas lamented, moving closer with a tantalizing smile. "What about paying me back with a kiss?"

"I only took a couple of spoons from yours!"

"A kiss or I'm taking back your second ice-cream!"

"Ok, fine!" Alexander stood up, moving out from Thomas's range with the glass of ice-cream safely in his hands, and ate it quickly – his brain was freezing but it was so fuckin' good.

"You know I actually date you only for the food, right?"

"Mh-mh, now come here, you bottomless pit."

Alexander happily sat on Thomas's lap, kissing him with his mouth still cold and enjoying Thomas's taste mixed with the vanilla flavoured ice-cream. Without breaking the kiss, Thomas lifted him gently to make Alexander face him, and the blue-eyed man hugged him with both his arms and legs, moving closer and running his fingers through Thomas's fluffy hair, pulling a little. Thomas instinctively growled and drew back a moment, his eyes flashing with lust; he kissed Alexander's neck, from the collarbone to his ear, earning a moan from him.

"Thomas?"

"Oui, my love?"

"Let's go try that fancy bed of yours, shall we?"

Thomas stood up at once, carrying him in his arms and kissing him passionately, while Alexander clung to him, his legs fastened around his waist and his hands still grabbing his hair.

Hoping that no one was crossing the hall in that very moment, Thomas carried Alexander like that to his room and slammed the door behind him with a kick.

***

Notes:

I hope you liked the story so far! If you do, let me know it in the comments - I'm really excited to know your thoughts!

Anyway, I spent half the day wandering around Monticello in a virtual tour, I leave the link for you if you're interested: http://explorer.monticello.org/virtualtour/?_ga=2.113636551.1572994982.1608309420-848780245.1605478710

And yeah, Thomas is a dick about slavery, but he did own slaves and so I didn't want to pretend he was better than he actually was.