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Cabinet battles. Personally, Alexander thought they were fun. Jefferson not so much.
That was because Alexander was always the one throwing very personal insults at Thomas, and the Federalist knew that Jefferson couldn't bear to throw equally demeaning jeers back.
Because that would put his job on the line, and would revoke the title of the 'Very Polite Pompous Prick' of the Washington's cabinet.
After a particularly bad meeting, Alexander stormed off into his office. He was pissed. He'd been working on this god damn plan for months now. Everything Jefferson argued with he'd taken into account, and fixed, and yet the Democratic-Republican dick-retard still couldn't seem to get that through is 5 inch thick cranium.
Truth be told, Hamilton had no idea what he was doing, but even if it was about nothing, just having his hand moving on a page and fingers around a quill was enough to comfort him from the awful outside.
He'd been writing about slavery, he was pretty sure. Idle words on a page, a rough draft to iron our later. You understand, right?
Slavery was a pressing matter. On one hand, it would cost their newly independent nation thousands, which was something the states, especially the south, couldn't afford. On the other, it would separate their nation from the others. They would stand out, gain new workers to pay taxes and reset the economy to pay off the nations' debt to France.
He'd been listing the cause and effect when there was a knock, and Alexander instantly dreaded the interaction that would follow, knowing the stupid person behind that audible pattern on the door.
Thomas Jefferson opened the door, with his stupid fancy magenta suit, and his stupid big coily hair, and his stupid vest.
"What do you want?" Demanded Alexander.
"Stand down, Hamilton, I want to talk," Jefferson assured with a smug smirk, raising a hand to silence him.
"What is there to even talk about? You and Madison made every opinion in your big heads painfully verbal," the brunette told him, gritting his teeth. His hand gripped the desk so he didn't punch the man. Something about being in Jefferson's literal presence pissed him off beyond reasonable belief.
Alexander crossed his arms and looked back up at Jefferson, disliking their height difference and how vulnerable and small it made Hamilton feel.
"Big head? Is that what you think of me?" Chuckled Jefferson with that stupid dumb smirk. "Better then having a small one."
"Shut up," scoffed Alexander. He knew he was just being petty at this point, but he couldn't muster enough maturity to care.
Jefferson leaned over the desk. "More writings, hm? Is that all you ever do? Nothing else? Nonstop?" He snickered, picking up a sheet of paper and reading it over.
"Hey-" protested Alexander, reaching up to grab it, however their height difference made that near impossible.
"Your handwriting's a mess and your punctuation is offensive," scoffed Jefferson, holding it out of Hamilton's reach.
"It's a draft!" He protested, feeling himself getting worked up. Alexander knew he was a grown man and shouldn't get this pent-up over small things, but he couldn't take it right now. Eliza had been away for a while, visiting one of her cousins out of town and he'd been left to cook and do the housework.
"Well you'll have it review this plenty more," Jefferson teased, and shoved it into his arms, more specially, his chest.
Warmth flooded his body at an unnecessarily fast rate, making his blood rush at the singular touch.
Jesus, am I this desperate?
Alexander froze, unsure of how to process how much that turned him on, which was absolutely stupid.
Sure, his chest was a place Eliza often touched him, but it was also a totally normal body part, which made no sense for his brain to sudden decide 'Yep, that's the one,' and activate code boner.
"What else do you have going on here?" Jefferson asked, sorting through his desk.
"Hey, you can't just-" started Alexander, but his protests died in his throat as the older man sat on his desk, thighs completely eye level, flipping through papers.
"Are these even in order?"
"No."
"Jesus Christ..." muttered Jefferson, brows furrowed. "Organize your desk."
"Maybe I won't. Just for you," sneered Alexander. Yeah. This was petty. He was really starting to not care. It pissed him off how one touch to his chest and some thighs were getting him half-hard.
"Just for me? Ooo, special treatment," the ravenette muttered, clearly not having heard what he said.
Alexander shifted quietly, trying to avoid further growing the rising hard-on in his pants. Not in front of fucking Jefferson, please. I'll never recover. Washington maybe, but not Jefferson! This did not help in the slightest, and being ignored was making him needy.
"What are you even looking at?" asked Hamilton, standing up to peek at what Jefferson was reading, before getting promptly shoved back into his chair, which let's just say made his blood pump south faster. How did Jefferson do that? Surely he didn't weigh that little. Sure, maybe he skipped a few meals here and there, but he had work to do.
"Jefferson!" he snapped. No response. "Jefferson!" Still no response. "Thomas!"
Jefferson startled and looked up, and then looked annoyed. "What?"
"Get off my desk."
The other man smirked a little bit in his stupid smug way, and replied, "No."
Alexander wrapped his arms around him and tugged Jefferson off, who stumbled a little bit and then stood. "Seriously? You just have to ruin everything, don't you?"
Thomas instead sat down on Alexander's chair. "Oh my god, will you just get out already?" hissed Alexander, trying to tug him out again. "I'm going to go get Washington!"
"Yeah, because you need him to fight all your battles for you, isn't that right?" sneered Jefferson. "Too busy writing to ever take a damn break. Besides, Washington went home."
In a stubborn fit of immaturity, Alexander sat on the older man's lap, and started writing again.
Jefferson yelped. "Whoa- Hey, hey get off!"
Alexander didn't respond, just smiled to himself.
"Hamilton move i swear to god I'll-" he cut off, and was in silence for a good moment. "Are you getting off on this?"
Alexander froze, and rushed to defend himself. "Wha- No! No! I'm not! It's random!"
Jefferson's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "You're getting off on this!" he accused, a big smirk on his face.
"N-No! Not you! Never you!" spluttered the younger man, mind racing to find a viable explanation.
Jefferson grabbed Alexander, pulling him so his back was right against Thomas's chest, and legs were around one of his thighs.
"N-No! S-Sta- Stahp- mh-" was all Hamilton managed when Thomas started moving his thigh.
"You're so sensitive," teased Jefferson. "Never would've guessed you're into me like that, Alexander."
The brunette shuddered in response to the words, toes curled inside his shoes. God, Jefferson had never called him that in his life. Idiot was more common.
"Yeah, you want me to bend you over and fuck you like the whore you are?" Purred the ravenette, right into his ear.
Alexander squirmed and glanced backwards. Jefferson's eyes were filled with pure unfiltered lust, probably straight from the depths of hell. It was fitting, because that was probably where he'd end up after this.
He whined, and nodded, which was all it took for Jefferson to pick him up and bend him over the chair.
"Wha-what are you doing?" Alexander stammered, a little caught off-guard.
"I already told you," said Thomas sternly, and gave him a sharp swat across the ass, Alexander jerked forward, not expecting the pain that blossomed across the area.
Alexander's mouth fell open as Jefferson started undoing his belt, pants, stockings, shoes, right until he was naked waist down.
Thomas pulled a couple hair ribbons out of his pockets, and then tied Alexander's ankles to the chair.
"Now tell me. Do you want this?"
The brunette nodded frantically, and Jefferson's belt and pants fell to the floor. Jesus Christ he was big.
Thomas fumbled, looking around on the desk and finding olive oil and cold cream.
He carefully removed the cap, and dripped some on his fingers, dick, and Alexander's hole.
"Watch it, that stuff is expensive!" Complained the younger man, and was cut off with a gasp when he was spanked.
The olive oil dribbling down his rear, the sting from the spanking, and the finger penetrating his ass was already a sensory overload, but instead of being normal, Jefferson paused, and a wicked smile came to his face that made Alexander a little scared for both his ass and his life.
A sheet of parchment, quill, and inkwell were set down in front of Alexander. His heart dropped into his throat.
"... You're not serious."
That only brightened Jefferson's smug smirk, and earned Alexander another painful spanking.
"Do you think I'm serious?" Sneered Jefferson, beginning to prep him again. "Since you can't seem to stop writing, how about you do it now?"
"Ah- fuck- yes sir-" he stammered.
"Then pick up the god damn quill and write," sneered the ravenette, giving him a light warning swat.
"Ah- Wh-What do I even write about?" Whined Alexander.
"The benefits of legalizing homosexual marriage," snickered Thomas, pulling off his jacket and vest, leaving him in his white shirt.
"Wh-What? How am I supposed to- Mahhmmm~!" All protests were silenced by another spanking. "Okay, Okay..."
He picked up the quill, trying to think of viable reasoning as Thomas continued prepping him, though it was hard to think with fingers up your ass and your ankles being tied to a chair.
He paused, mouth gaping and arching his back when Thomas rubbed a particularly sensitive spot, and that earned him a sharp swat across his ass.
"Did I tell you do stop writing?"
"N-No sir-"
"Then keep at it."
Of course, the minute he started writing was the minute Jefferson decided to slide his tip in, and Alexander gasped out, "Stop! Stop, please..."
Thomas paused, shrugging his jacket off and tilting his head, deep brown eyes confused. He moved his hands to Hamilton's hips.
"Ah- ... Just a moment... Give me a s-second... It's been a while..." He panted, flopping a little bit on the chair.
"... You've taken other dick?" Inquired Jefferson, eyes narrowing and filling with something dark.
Alexander felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and arousal flood through him at the question. He tried to steady his voice, but his chest was heaving with ragged breaths.
"Yes," he admitted, his tone a little defiant, a little vulnerable. "I have. Is that a problem?"
"It most certainly is. Who?" Sneered Thomas, grip on his hips tightening.
Alexander bit back a small, frustrated whine as the question hit him harder than he'd expected. He tried to keep on his defiant tone, but his voice was still shaking a little bit.
"Does it matter?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm here with you now, aren't I? That's all you need to know."
Thomas spanked him. Hard.
"Watch your tone. When I ask a question, you answer it. Understand me?"
"OW- fuck- Yes sir-" he managed through the cutting pain.
"Now tell me, whore," sneered Jefferson, starting to slowly piston his hips in and out. "Who was it?"
Alexander struggled to focus his thoughts, the mixture of pain and pleasure making it difficult to form coherent thought, let alone speak. But he knew he couldn't deny Jefferson an answer, not when he was in this position.
"John Laurens," he gasped out, the name leaving his mouth almost involuntarily.
"Laurens huh? I'd heard you two were close, just never assumed ass-fucking close," chuckled Thomas, giving him another spanking. Alexander whined, dick twitching. "Get back to writing, you whore."
As the pain subsided, the pleasure began to build again, his ankles straining against the ribbon. The mix of emotions was overwhelming; pain, humiliation, arousal, shame...
"Please... please..." he begged, his voice strained and raw. "Don't... don't make me feel guilty for past hookups, I didn't know you... I... I-"
Another spanking right across both cheeks. "Don't make me get something else just because you can't handle being obedient," warned Jefferson, eyes hard and stern.
Hamilton whined, but knew better to fight it, picking back up his quill and jotting down more words.
The pleasure started, the ridges on Thomas' dick making his toes curl and Thomas reached down to fondle with his balls, very, very lightly.
Alexander had the quill in a vice grip as the pace got faster, trying and failing to hold back his whimpers.
"Oh god... please... slow down," he gasped, his hands gripping the quill tightly, the paper below him wrinkled from the pressure. "I can't… I can't think straight."
"You like that? You want me to fuck you stupid?" Purred Jefferson, hands caressing his hips in a teasing way. "Make you a braindead little sex servant?"
Alexander's face flushed at the words, his breath catching in his chest. He tried to maintain his composure, but it was becoming clear how desperate he was getting.
"Yes," he gasped, his voice thick with desire and need. "Yes, please, god… just… just destroy me."
Instead of that, the man on top of him paused complete and said, "Two more sentences. Now. You've been slacking, and you're lucky that I'm letting you off with this."
Alexander's brain froze, and he looked down at his paper, trying to rut his hips, but they were held still.
"L-Legalizing homosexuality would result in m-much less population growth- a-a-allowing more stability in certain areas-" his voice was strained, and his mind was drawing a blank as he squinted at the paper in front of him, trying to form a singular coherent and grammatically accurate sentence.
"Good boy," purred Thomas, making blood rush straight to Alexander's dick. "And?
"A-and it would create a way for certain households to become quite wealthy with two men working, contributing to higher t-taxes and a b-better economy," he rasped our, quite close to crying with the lack of stimulation.
"Good, good," Thomas murmured, starting back up again at a much faster pace then before.
The sudden movement caught Alexander off guard, his body still feeling raw and oversensitive from before. He let out a low moan, his head dropping forward, his hair falling in his face as his hand gripped the edge of the chair.
"Please… please be gentle," he pleaded, his voice a ragged whisper. "I can't… I can't take much more of this…"
"You can handle it," assured Thomas, his tone painfully unbothered and casual. "If you actually need me to stop just tell me."
Alexander whined, heat pulsing at his core, and since stupid Jefferson has stopped touching his balls, a red, stinging heat has made it's home in his cock.
"T-Thomas, please- sir, t-touch-" he whined. "Pl- PleASE- I need- I-I- I need-"
Jefferson swatted his ass. "Use your words."
"I-I need to cum, p-p-please sir I-" Hamiltons' eyes rolled back as Jefferson rammed his prostate, a little bit of drool falling from his lips. "I- n-n-need y-you and cum and f-fuck-k-k- mh~"
"Really?" mused Thomas, leaning down to kiss Alexander. "Convince me then."
Alexander groaned, feeling a mixture of desperation and frustration at Jefferson's words. But he was desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. He knew his mind was way too cluttered to say any words properly, so the next best thing, at least to his lust-addled brain, was begging.
"Please…" he said, his voice thick with need, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even think about them. "Please, I'll do anything… just please, please let me come. I can't… I can't handle this anymore… Please! I n-need to cum, I n-n-need your touch and your hands and-"
Jefferson cut him off with a spanking, and a rather hard one at that. "I told you to convince me, not whimper like a little girl," he sneered. "The only reason I'm still even fucking you is for me, alright you whore?"
Alexander gasped, the sting of the spanking sending a jolt of pain through him, but also only driving up his arousal even more. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself, to force his words out through the fog of need that was taking over his mind.
"You want me to convince you?" he asked, his voice still strained and rough. "You want me to beg, to plead, to humiliate myself for you to get what I need?"
Alexander realized his mistake the moment that Thomas started to pull out, eyes hard and stern.
The sudden feeling of emptiness was like a wave of despair, and desperation surged through him all over again. It was like being denied oxygen, the need for release overwhelming every rational thought in his mind.
"No… no!" he cried out, his voice pleading, desperate. "Please… please don't- don't leave me like this… I can't- I can't take it… Please, please don't stop…"
Thomas slammed back in, and Alexander wailed. "Really then? How about you stop talking back then."
Alexander bit back a sob, his desperation making it nearly impossible to think straight. But something about the firmness in Thomas' words made him want to obey, to submit completely to him. He nodded vigorously, his body still trembling, his words coming out in ragged gasps. "Yes… I'll stop, I promise… I'll be good… just please… please don't stop… please…"
Thomas grabbed his hair, pulling back and forcing him into an arch, grabbing the chair to keep from falling. After Jefferson started back up a punishing pace, Alexander's tears finally spilled over as he wriggled, somehow trying to get railed harder and squirm away at the same time. He kicked his feet, but got no success as his ankles were tightly bound to the point they could barely shift.
Jefferson groaned breathlessly from behind Alex. "You are so lucky it's late and no one's here." He leaned down, planting kisses down Alexander's neck and gripping his waist.
"T-Thomas-!" Hiccuped Hamilton, tears still streaming down his face.
"I'm feeling nice, whore. Yeah, you're being a good cocksleeve, so you can cum, yeah? Only with me, though, not earlier," Thomas' face was warm, he was breathless, panting. "You want me to pull out?"
Alexander shook his head, whimpering, and clenching down on the other man, though admittedly Hamilton barely even registered the sentence though the pleasure of having his prostate absolutely destroyed.
"Alexander, do that again, clench," Jefferson rasped, spanking the brunette again. "Fuck, you useless cocksleeve of a whore-"
The combination of the spanking and the names made Alexander wail out and clench down hard, triggering Jefferson to groan and pump him hard, painting his insides with seed.
The warmth and the permission made him cum hands free, the orgasm ripping right through his sensitive body. He shot cum onto his chair and office floor while he gasped and his thighs shook.
Jefferson, though exhausted, fucked Alexander through his orgasm, panting and gasping as the man beneath him sobbed.
He pulled out and leaned against the desk for support a couple moments later, fumbling to find a handkerchief to clean himself.
The brunette sat in his own cum, sweat, and bliss for a moment
It took a moment for Alexander to realize the gravity of what he did, but the post-nut clarity seemed to hit, and he realized he'd just been railed by his worst enemy. He hiccuped, wiping away his tears, and Thomas seemed to register Hamilton's existence.
"Sorry..." He panted, undoing the bindings around his ankles which helped return feeling to his feet, but the fuzzy feeling would take a little bit to go away. The marks of those ribbons would hopefully fade quickly.
Thomas, after wiping himself off and putting his pants and belt back on, rushed around to do his best to help care for Alexander, and cleaning up his office to the best of his abilities. It was quite dark, and he needed to get home.
"You can take my carriage, I'll drop you off and pay my driver well," Jefferson assured.
Alexander nodded, still a little dazed, even after being helped back into his clothes. "So uh... This- Hic- This doesn't leave the office, right?" He mumbled, cheeks red.
"Of course," assured Thomas, brown eyes sparkling in amusement. "This would very much get me in trouble as well, though next time, I would prefer a more comfortable and less professional setting."
"Next time?" Choked out Alexander, and then he let out another hiccup.
Thomas laughed, helping the smaller man outside. "Only if you want to. Though, for now, let's get you home."