#wthw

As he got ready a familiar sense of hurt filled him. Not betrayal, he felt that when John died. He felt that John had just, left him and Eliza, even though he knew the cancer was too violent and was eventually going to take him away. He still felt that way. Now he couldn't even pin point what he felt. Alex was angry at Jefferson, that didn't surprise him. But he'd known they were soulmates, for how long? Alex could only wonder. But that still made his stomach twist with an awful feeling. Maybe he'd cared back before they met, and that was why he hated him so much now. Maybe Alexander hating him had ruined anything akin to affection towards him inside Thomas. And as Alex stared at himself in the mirror his conscience screamed at him. 'You shouldn't have told him' it said. He already knew that. What was there to do now? Only one option. Push aside the fact that they were soulmates, meant to be in each other's lives, meant to be together somehow, and hate him. Force all of his confused thoughts away and go back to despising him.

Alexander forced his anger towards the Virginian. It was starting to work. They could argue at work, they could go back to normal. This weekend will have never happened.

Shrugging his jacket on, and adjusting his tie, Alex walked down the stairs in a hurry. He'd be a little late for thinking too hard in the shower. He grabbed his laptop, shoving it into his bag full of miscellaneous papers and scraped ideas. He slung it over his shoulder and hopped on the first bus to work. Mondays; they suck for everyone. Hamilton shifted slightly in his seat, pulling out his phone to distract himself on the way to work. He was about to text Eliza when he noticed Jefferson's contact. He'd meant to text him back but couldn't remember if he'd done so or not. In his rage induced fit last night he thought he deleted them all. Alexander's blood ran cold when he saw the text he'd sent to Thomas.

[ Alexander – TJs 8:04 p.m. ]

'Go ahead and hate me. That wont stop me from at least trying to undrstand us being soulmates. At least im going to look at you like a real person and care lmao'

'because ya kno?? I don’t wanna hate you, you shouldn’t hate someone your meant to be with'

'even if that means you hate me forever and ill silently wish you didn’t. Were togetehr wether you like it or not, so suck on that Thomas.'

The typos were the least of his worries. His hands started shaking as he stared wide eyed at the awful messages. Even if what he'd said was true, he never would have wanted him to know what he was thinking. They were stuck together. The little voice inside him told him he still didn't hate him after leaving last night, but his anxiety pushed that away and a bigger voice told him Thomas was going to read these, and leave. What was worse? They'd all been marked as read. The same time he sent them.

Alexander let out a noise of defeat, sadly trying to type an apology.

[ Alexander – TJs 6:39 a.m. ]

'Oh god'

'Oh my g o d. I hate you so much'

'Jefferson for fucks sake I'm going to punch you when I see your disgusting face.'

That should fix things, he thought. And in truth he was thinking about punching him, he really wanted to. He needed to scream at him and drown the pain lingering in his chest. It was a stupid light of hope that Jefferson would apologize and not hate him, as if that'd ever happen. That light had to be covered with a blanket. Then put in a box. And dropped into a fire. Crush the little thing. He just needed to yell at him, to hate him, he missed hating him. But whenever he'd mindlessly touch the side of his neck and feel the rapid pulse underneath Alexander would feel jittery. Thomas Jefferson, it would say. He didn’t want to feel lightheaded, or buzzed out just to see the man's name.

The bus pulled up to Light Switch, the publishing company he and Thomas worked at. He quickly ran off and into the lobby, waving at a few of his friends before he grabbed the first elevator to his floor. The ride upstairs was short, since he worked on the second floor. Alexander braced himself to possibly run into Jefferson as he walked to the breakroom to grab a few cups of coffee. He'd be needing them. He was glad to see a familiar face, Angelica was putting her lunch away in the employee fridge, and she happily waved him over. Alexander hugged her side and then went to work on his coffee.

"Not even a good morning?" Angelica teased, glancing at him as he started up the coffee machine. "Sorry, long weekend." Hamilton sighed, blowing his bangs out of his face. Just then he realized he didn't even pull his hair back. Lucky for him, Angelica noticed as well and she reached into his bag and pulled out a hair tie. "Tell me about it." She hummed, pulling his hair back and quickly tying it off into a tight ponytail. Alex huffed, grabbing a few sugar packets and tossing them into his bag for later. "On Saturday I found out two things," He started. "Mhm," she smiled, leaning on the counter next to him. "One, Burr can translate heartbeats." He grabbed the pot and poured one large cup for himself, before starting another for later. "You're kidding." Angelica gaped at him, eyes wide. Alexander nodded, snapping a lid on his coffee before taking a swig. "Yeah." He said. "And two, I found out John and Jefferson are my soulmates." He sighed, throwing the fact around like it was nothing. But Angelica nearly screamed when the name Jefferson left his lips. "You two are soulmates?!" She tried to contain her shock, but it came out as a loud squeal/gasp of agony. "Yeah. Don't talk to him about it, believe me I've already tried."

Having nearly gone through his first cup, Alexander greedily poured himself another for the trip to his office. "You told him? Angelica asked as she grabbed her things and followed Alex out of the breakroom. The previous night flashed in Alexander's mind and he winced as he remembered how torn Thomas looked when he told him. "Yeah. Bad idea I know. But tell me if you see him, I have to punch him." He huffed, turning down the hallway towards his office and tossing one empty cup into a conveniently placed trashcan. He didn't get to hear her response, another voice filled the hall and stopped Alexander in his tracks.

.

"Your office or mine? It'd be very unprofessional to make a scene in the halls." Thomas crossed his arms, watching Hamilton whip around with a terrified look on his face. The terror slowly faded into anger and he didn't say another word as he walked towards his own office. "Yours it is then." Thomas grunted, following the immigrant in long strides. As soon as the door to his office was shut, Alexander slammed his bag onto the table and glared at him from across the room. Thomas smirked at this, and gently set his bag down by the door. "You said you wanted to punch me." He said, clearing his throat. "Yeah I do. Lock the door so I can pummel you." Hamilton growled, hands clenching at his sides. "You can try, but I doubt you can reach." Thomas walked towards him slowly, as if the night before hadn't even happened. But oh, the memory was still fresh in his mind. He'd hardly gotten any sleep as a result of thinking about it. The comment he made clearly didn't help Hamilton's tantrum. He stormed up to him and yanked Thomas down by his tie, their faces inches apart. Alexander was furious. "How about now." He whispered, voice thick with resentment. The sudden action startled him and Thomas just stared at him before regaining his composure. "You still haven't punched me yet." He pointed out, just in time for Hamilton to use his other hand to sock him in the gut. It didn't hurt as much as it should have, since Thomas was practically built like a god, but it knocked the wind out of him.

From there it grew gradually worse. The violent whispers and tie grabbing turned into a full on screaming match, at one point Thomas pinned Alexander to the door, grabbing a fist full of hair and using the other hand to grip his shirt collar and yank him off the floor. Eventually, after they'd worn their voices thin, and their muscles hurt from the physical fight, Alex stumbled away from Thomas, panting. "Is this how it's always going to be?" He asked, voice hardly audible from how loud he'd been screaming. Thomas turned to look at him, seeing him brush the wild hair out of his face, ponytail discarded sometime during the fight. "It's how it's always been Hamilton." Thomas chuckled, brushing a few curls out of his eyes. "No it hasn’t. We never fought like this before." "You punched me first, if that counts for anything." He stated leaning against his messy desk. Alexander shot him a look and that’s when Jefferson saw how his rivals eyes were starting to gloss over with, tears? "Why do you hate me. I want to know the reason why you refused to listen to me last night." Voice still full of venom, Alexander looked up as angry tears began to drip down his face. He couldn't tell if the fight had really hurt him and he couldn't hold back anymore, or if this was something else. Even still, Thomas turned away. Not wanting to be guilt tripped by those big eyes. "It's a long story, an' I don’t feel like telling you." He said, raising his voice as if to intimidate Alex. Which clearly didn’t work as the shorter man walked up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring up at him.

"Tell me. If I need to hate you and let you hate me for the rest of our lives I want to hear a good reason as to why I should." Alex sputtered. Jefferson could feel how much he was shaking, and he finally stared down at him. The two locked eyes and Thomas' heart shriveled under the weight of his gaze. That awful longing tugged on his heart, the one he'd pushed away and forced to leave behind years ago. He watched as Alex's face fell when he let the obvious be written on his features. He saw the light crumple inside of him, the spark that fueled their rivalry began to blow out. Thomas slowly stepped away from him, his grip on his arms loosening. He stood beside Hamilton, facing the opposite direction. He took a deep breath and lifted his head up.

"When I was really little, my parents got my heartbeat interpreted. I remembered reading the name, Alexander Hamilton. It was on a little notecard written in green pen." He started, with a little chuckle. "I asked my parents, who he was. They explained the concept of soulmates, destiny and meant to be's." Thomas smiled, hands fiddling at his sides. He heard Alexander take in a sharp breath, hearing the almost giddy sound of Thomas' voice. "The years leading up until my father died, they searched for you. Every state, almost every city. We even went to Europe a few times, asking around, but..." "You couldn't find me. You didn't look far enough, did you." Alexander whispered. Thomas turned to meet his gaze. "Yeah." He whispered. "My father died on our way home from Oregon. I was seventeen. The only one in my family who hadn't found their meant to be." He turned away, walking towards the door and away from Alex's eyes. "My mother mourned for the rest of her life. I felt ashamed, as if by not finding you, I'd caused this pain." Thomas crossed his arms, nails digging into his suit jacket. "I tried to move on right? I had to. It's not like I'd ever find you."

Thomas laughed, remembering the night he tore his room apart from how lonely he was. How much he just wanted Alexander, hand pressed tightly to his pulse listening to it, reminding him that he was there. "You were supposed to be mine. My Alexander, I'd always say. But I had to forget you. So that's what I did." He turned around and saw the horrified and guilt stricken face of his soulma- rival. Alexander looked devastated to hear truth. "I got married, made a family. My Martha died young and she didn’t deserve it. So I took my girls and ditched Virginia. Something told me New York was the place to go. Then I met you." "Thomas, I'm-" Alex tried to speak, but his voice seemed to fail him this time. Thomas' heart wavered, wanting to run towards him and tell him how much he cried when he heard his name, how he clung to his daughters and sobbed knowing his soulmate was someone who hated him. How much it broke his heart. But he stayed silent about that little part.

The room was quiet for a moment, the two men staring at each other. Both were bruised and had torn expressions. Hamilton slowly walked towards him, reaching out to grab him. Thomas didn’t make an effort to move, but tensed slightly when he grabbed his sleeve. It wasn't forceful, or comforting. It felt weak, as if he was trying to speak but his thoughts had run dry. "Alright.." He finally spoke, voice full of defeat. "I'm sorry, for all the pain I caused. You have a million reasons to hate me, I know now." Alex looked up at him, and brushed his bangs back quickly. His face still covered in guilt. "It couldn't be helped, you lived in the Caribbean, it's an odd place to look." Thomas croaked, a lump forming in his throat. "I know, but..." Alex pulled his hand away and stepped back a bit. "If there's ever a day, that you want your Alexander, you know where to find me." Hamilton smiled weakly, then it crumpled into a look of despair. The words shook Thomas to the core, and his knees felt weak. His Alexander, he stopped thinking of Hamilton as his a long time ago. But he remembered the obvious. They were, despite what they wanted to think, meant to be together.

"I know you hate me, and I don't mean to imply that we have to be together in a romantic sense, we could just be together," Hamilton continued, fiddling with his thumbs as the words slowly came to him. "But we're soulmates. It'd be wrong if I didn't try to make up for all the time you spent looking for me." He laughed, watching Thomas carefully. "You can leave or you can stay and we could talk? Screw work today anyway, neither of us have anything important. B-but if you need to be alone I understand and I won't push any-" Thomas didn't let him finish, he raced forward and pulled him into his arms, leaning over him as he desperately hugged him.

He felt the awful longing return, the insomnia inducing want that plagued him for years, as Alexander wrapped his arms around him and held on for dear life, his fists gripping onto his jacket. "Thomas I don't hate you." Alex whispered, releasing his grip on his back. "I don't, like, at all. I'm sorry." "Shut up, I forgive you." Thomas choked, hands shaking as they ran through Alex's hair. "I never wanted to hate you. I was angry and depressed about my wife, and-" he groaned, pulling away to look at the man before him. "You look awful, Jesus Christ, we shouldn't fight like this." He said, examining the damage done in their brawl. Alex nodded, chuckling as he reached his hand up to grab Thomas' resting on his shoulder. "Yeah, I feel awful too. But it's nothing compared to what war is like." He snickered, his nose scrunching up as he did, and it caused Thomas to smile. "Let's go get you cleaned up," He said, pulling his hand away slowly just to get used to the feeling of Alex's hand on his.

Basically everyone in the building knew how intense they got. But they never got physical. So when Alexander and Thomas walked out into the hallway looking as if they'd been dragged through hell and back, people were bound to be concerned. Washington was the first person to come up to them asking, just what the hell was going on. Alex looked up from where he was sitting in the breakroom, nudging the man next to him, who was rubbing neosporin on his bruised cheek. "Huh..?" Thomas looked over and smiled weakly. "uh...things got a little out of hand today.." Alex said in his place, putting on his biggest smile as Washington stormed towards them. "I can see that. But why are you helping him? It's quite out of character if you ask me." He looked between the two men slowly, watching as Thomas ignored him and went back to tending to Alexander. "We're trying something new, it's called civility." He said as he moved to look at Alex's throat, and began to frown. "I don't remember choking you, what the hell." Alex started to laugh and raised his brows a bit. "I don't either? Maybe slamming me into the wall by my collar was the cause." "Seems like it. Tell me if I hurt you ok?" Thomas looked up at him, and he gently patted his wild curls down a bit. "It's just a bruise. It doesn't hurt when you put the medicine on." He rolled his eyes earning a soft jab in the side. "Hey!" "I don't wanna make it worse, just tell me if I do." He grunted, before looking back at Washington who was standing perplexed as he watched the scene unfold. "Sir, we're fine. We're actually going to try and not hate each other." Alexander hummed, continuing to twirl his fingers in Thomas' hair as he examined his busted up neck. Washington simply shook his head and told them to keep it that way, and he hopes it works out.  

.

The day went by quickly after that, and Alex popped his head into Thomas's office before he left to grab his kids. "Hey," Alexander smiled when he saw his eyes sparkle at the sound of his voice. "Hey yourself, is it already three?" Thomas asked, and Alex nodded. He walked over to his desk and pulled his chair out, spinning it around to face him. "We should hangout after work tomorrow." Alex muttered opening his arms to let Jefferson drag him into another bear hug. He would slowly grow to love them more and more. "Of course, text me when you get home." Thomas' voice was muffled by his shirt, and he smiled at him. "I will, we can probably facetime if the kids don't keep me too busy." Alex pulled away and gently patted his cheek. "Works for me." He chuckled, squeezing his arm before turning back to his laptop. Alexander walked out of his office before looking back in to wave goodbye once more, which earned him a little wave and a smile.

The whole drive home was filled with chatter from the kids about their weekend, and Alex gushing about how he and Thomas were finally getting along. Angelica and John seemed to really enjoy that fact. Phillip was a bit on the edge about it but he was happy anyway. As soon as they pulled up to the house the kids ran inside, and Alex was grabbing his things when he noticed his phone.

[ TJs – Alexander 3:41 p.m. ]

'Adams just broke the copy machine I'm ten seconds away from strangling him. Also, you get home okay?'

Alexander smiled and quickly went to change Thomas' contact name for convenience.

[ Alexander – My Thomas 3:42 p.m. ]