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alexander hamilton ([personal profile] non_stop) wrote in [community profile] amrev_intrigues2022-07-08 01:19 pm

psl b4?

The pregnancy seems to have entered a new phase, after bail is posted, after Burr's claim of him on a hard and wooden bench in a filthy cell. Alexander can't stop thinking about it. His mind catches on the glide of Burr's cock-head, spreading his slit; he replays, again and again, the sensation of Burr's cock digging at the entrance to his womb, just this side of painful, and how his body welled with welcoming, wet slick at every slow thrust. Burr's body against his. Needy, broken pieces of himself, spasming around the cherished intrusion. How he was pressed back down into the bench and used, fucked on Burr's knot while claiming-marking urine leaked out of him --

He became a different creature, just then. Burr claimed him, and Alexander doesn't know what it means. He is frightened of how close Burr is to him, and frightened even more of losing that closeness. He shares Burr's bed, every night. He has vivid nightmares that he doesn't remember on waking. And if they awaken him in the middle of the night, he burrows under the covers and licks at Burr's soft cock, suckles it into his mouth, until Burr is awake and willing to pleasure him back to sleep. He is guilty for it, for interrupting Burr's sleep, but he always forgets his guilt when Burr's fingers are inside him or Burr's mouth is on him or even just Burr's sleepy voice telling him he's beautiful while he pulls himself off.

But there is a change. He is ravenous, and he longs for strange things, one day repulsed and the next day drawn to a particular food. The nausea isn't just in the mornings, now, but can strike at any time during the day. His back hurts, and he isn't even carrying much extra weight, though he's starting to think that maybe the swell at his stomach is large, unusually so. And his nipples ache, in a way that seems periodically echoed through the flesh beneath.

He asks Burr, hesitating, to bring a midwife to the home. Burr suggests a doctor, as well, and Alexander blanches, knowing the judgment that a gentleman might bring to their situation.

"Should we," and he swallows, dreading and wanting. "Should we marry first?"
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-10 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
Burr is tired. Has been tired, for much of the past few weeks. But if Burr is tired, Hamilton must be more so. He's fussy, and needy. He has trouble sleeping, and no reservations with waking Burr when he wants his body. It is only fair--Burr did get them into this mess.

He likes Hamilton's new weight. Likes the swell of his stomach, that does seem overlarge, though Burr had thought perhaps his perverted mind was making hi m seem larger than he was. Likes especially to rest his hands there, feeling the shape, covering, holding. In sleep or waking. Coming up behind Hamilton to hold him.

He shouldn't want to make Hamilton a kept man. But he can't help the rising anxiety, the further along Hamilton gets. He can't help but recall the Theodosias pregnancies--the miscarriages, health that seemed never to recover. He wants to keep Hamilton safe, but it is at odds with his nature. Aloof and cool, reserved.

He is quiet, mostly. There is enough to keep him occupied. He wants to give Hamilton things. Thrills each time he returns home to find Hamilton still there, thinks each time he leaves for work that Hamilton will slip away forever. So he doesn't mind going out to get foods Hamilton asked for, only for those same things to be rebuffed when he returns. He cares only that Hamilton eats, fussy as he is. Not above using underhanded persuasion--little bits handfed, and it's easier after Burr brings him off with his mouth, under the dinner table or early in the morning.

Of course, Hamilton is overdue for a visit with a doctor, or midwife. But he'd not thought it prudent to force the subject.

"Hamilton, any doctor of mine has seen worse, I assure you." If Hamilton wants to marry him it should be because he wants to, not rushed for a want of propriety. They are far past that. "As I said before--I will marry you whenever you wish it."

He hopes desperately that Hamilton does mean to be married, though. He's had the paperwork made up since then--the night in jail. But Hamilton hadn't brought it up again, and Burr though--well. He'll take Hamilton any way he can have him.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-14 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)
He is concerned, when Hamilton stops. But then Alexander grabs his hand, presses it to his stomach, and the breath slams out of him in a little oh.

He drops to his knees, because it is easier than standing, with legs that shake. He pulls up the edge of Hamilton's shirt, so he can press his face, his ear against the belly, hands on either side. Feels the shift, against his head, and he doesn't know what to do, has no outlet for the emotion he feels.

He kisses the stomach, a flutter of desperate and awe-filled kisses. And he thinks of Theodosia, and his eyes are wet, and he hides the wetness against Hamilton. Doesn't want to think about her.

Doesn't want to think about her, so he pushes himself to his feet suddenly, and then he is on Hamilton, pushing him back against the wall and ravishing him, kissing deep and fast and hard. And if Hamilton will let him he'll drop to his knees, here on the hardwood. Will yank Hamilton's pants down and bury his tongue between hot folds. Will lap and suck and bring him off against the wall.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-14 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Burr follows him, something pulled along on a chain. He settles next to the sofa on his knees, submissive, because that is what Hamilton needs, sometimes. He brings his hands up, rubs over Hamilton's thighs, massages.

"Tell me what you need," he says, because Hamilton so rarely will say anything directly, for how often he complains. A midwife, a doctor, and--does he want to be married? When, and how? They could do it tonight, easily enough. Sign a few papers, and Burr has--well. Burr has a ring.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
Burr laughs. He can't help it. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"You forgive me? My, yes. How blessed am I!"

Sits back, jerking, dislodging Hamilton from him. "How blessed am I, to be forgiven for so aptly playing into your hands. For allowing you to finally martyr yourself, as you had so long wanted. Fool that I was, for giving you that. How could anyone think ill of the poor deceased, slaughtered by a once-friend. Your religious duty to oppose me, did you not say? Yes, your final chance to ruin me. How grateful for your forgiveness! How low you have stooped in offering it!"

And as he speaks he grows louder, and wanders farther from Hamilton. Can't look at him as the words tumble out. Can't but show the slightest shiver of any emotion but anger. He has felt it so long. And it was true--Hamilton had calculated, what way he could finally ruin Burr. A lost election, and Burr had done nothing. Then, the election for mayor. Slander even beyond that. Burr had shown such restraint, where Hamilton hounded him relentlessly. Ruined his life. Hamilton had ruined his life. His darling Theodosia--who would not have died, if not for going to meet Burr in New York, after so long away in exile.

Mad. Hamilton had been mad, at the end. Practically foaming at the mouth with paranoia and pride. Unrecognizable. And then, when Burr had seen him in the baudy house--that had been the Hamilton he knew, all those years ago. But not. Broken, as he had been, later in life. But without the madness. The passion and drive, that could only have driven him mad.

"You ruined me--" Burr says. "You ruined yourself." He leaves.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 02:43 pm (UTC)(link)
He goes whoring. A glorious three day Bender of drinking and fucking. He goes to the whores he know: the ones that will hit him if he asks, tie him up. And new ones too. Easy, quick fucks. Whores who don't care to pretend they're enjoying it. He sleeps here and there--passed out wherever he happens to be overcome by drink or laudanum. He feels fine. This is how he has lived, the lifestyle that started sometime after Princeton, took hold after Theodosia sr. death, and developed from habit to lifestyle after Theo jr.s death.

He wanders home, eventually. To a silent, stale house. Finds the letter, reads it. Reads it again. Folds it up and flings it at the wall. Punches the wall too, splits knuckles and drips blood.

He does hate. Hates the Hamilton who was. Hates him. A hate that folded into the fabrics of themselves, all those years ago.

What right did Hamilton have, to come into Burr's home? To be built up by him only to leave when his pride was recovered enough to dangle before Burr the mistakes of years ago. Not mistakes. Not.

He goes back out. He doesn't want to think.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 03:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Burr comes to awareness slowly, and reluctantly. He feels ill, like dying, and is disconcerted. He doesn't know where he is, or what day it is.

Until he opens his eyes and sees Hosack. He wishes instantly to be back asleep.

"God no," Burr says, trying to swallow around a swollen tongue. "If you let yourself in, perhaps you can also be so good as to let yourself out."

He doesn't want to see anyone, and he doesn't need an intervention. He only has a few years left, no family, and he has made it clear on a number of occasions that he fully intends to gain what little satisfaction there is left for him on this earth before expiration.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes, clearly you understand everything," Burr says dryly. "I should have you arrested for burglary," but he doesn't do anything except sit up to sip at the coffee. Black and strong and horrible--exactly as he likes it. Another of his addictions, yet apparently this one is fine, if the damn doctor gives it to him.

He'll have to go and procure more laudanum, once the doctor leaves. As if he has endless money. But he doesn't feel like walking quite yet. Stomach still turning unpleasantly. Ah, but his ass feels bruised, and that at least is quite nice.

"Say your peace and be on your way."
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
"You've seen him," Burr says by way of explanation, as if the fatal attraction between them hadn't been just that, in Alexander's previous life. As if it was due to Hamilton's new biology.

"I didn't eject him, he left of his own volition, as unpredictable and volatile as ever. Still playing the victim as he did before, I see."

How is it that Hamilton has drawn him once again into one of these games. Hamilton was always so quick to take up that role as somehow wronged. As if Burr had turned him out after taking advantage of him. To turn up at their friends weeping pitiably, and pregnant, and alone. But it was Hamilton who brought it up. Dangled forgiveness in front of Burr's face like he had asked for it or needed it. Needed Hamilton's forgiveness after it had been Hamilton who ruined his life. Nothing that happened that day at dawn had been beyond Hamilton's purview. From the glasses, right down to those damn hair-trigger pistols. Those long minutes Hamilton spent sighting Burr down, as if he ever intended to fire.

Burr's sure it's there somewhere, in Hamilton's own papers. Some self righteous rambling about goading Burr into killing him. About how, by deloping (not even in the correct manner!) Hamilton would ensure Burr was branded a murderer and a monster.

He was happy to put it behind them. That was the Hamilton. The old ones, whose mind was corrupted by madness and grief. But now? He's not so sure.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 08:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Nineteen. Nineteen. Burr's impregnated a nineteen year old, held him accountable for the actions of a forty year old, years before. In what way did the reincarnated bear the maturity and age of the one who came before? Certainly Hamilton did not remember as a child what had happened. Was not a fifty year old at five. And he's not the same now as he was then, before. He's hardly an adult.

Burr feels ill, as he has since reading the letter. But he's so angry. If Hamilton is so different now, what right did he have to offer forgiveness for the other? How seperated are they? It's too much to work out, the tangle of guilt and responsibility and personhood. He would have been more than happy to ignore it.

"I intended to keep them," the promises, "but he wouldnt have me. It's been a damn mess, trying to convince him to give up his old profession and do something more befitting his intellect. You can imagine his feelings regarding marriage."

Ah, but something more pressing. Hosack is a doctor.

"Did you examine him?" Burr asks, suddenly finding his coffee very interesting.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-15 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Burr stands, suddenly. Nearly dumps his coffee onto the floor, paces behind the couch, one fist pressed over his mouth. His face betrays nothing, but inside his heart is pounding.

"What does that mean for him?" Burr asks. "For his health? He is so--he is so small. And young. It must be harder, mustn't it? To carry two?"

He tries to keep his voice level, but he thinks there is a little waiver, which makes him blush. But there is something else, too. A little pleased feeling, in his guts. That he was so effective as to impregnate Hamilton twice over. To make him swollen and fat with Burr's seed, Burr's children, in a way no one else was able. A little stirring in his cock, as well, that he forces down.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-16 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Tied in knots. Looking towards the door. Burr should go to him. He should go to him right now and apologize. And yet--its hard. Why is it so hard.

"I can't," Burr says, the words tripping out of him. "I'm not--I'm so angry. For something that wasn't even--was it him?" Burr asks, and he's not sure what he's asking. If madness or reiteration made them too different to account.

"I thought we could ignore it, but--he needs so much. And I'm--afraid." Chokes a little, when he says. Doesn't want to admit.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-16 04:06 am (UTC)(link)
A small price, Hosack thinks, for what is given. And Hamilton won't be satisfied, will he? With such a small part of Burr? He wants all of it. Those parts carved and pitted from years before.

And he's scared too. Must be, the same way Burr is of him. The words don't seem so much like haughtiness and pride. Perhaps they were desperate little offerings. Something someone nineteen with memories they didn't want could hardly understand.

"I'll go to him," Burr says suddenly. "If he'll see me. Though I can't promise it won't end in yelling. I--allow me to bathe and dress."
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-16 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
He lays eyes on him, for the first time in six days, and he's breathless. He looks--he looks bigger, but too thin, as Hosack said. Pale and wan, but still healthy. Still swollen, with those things growing in him.

"I'm--" Burr starts, stops. Alexander blinking at him. He wishes only that he could cross the room and take him into his arms and not worry any about words. But, well. He's Alexander. He'll need words. "I don't hate you," Burr says, cringes when he says it. "I can't forgive Alexander, the other one, for what he did. But that doesn't mean--I still--"

"He, you--he was mad at the end, you see. He wasn't himself." Burr is blushingly wildly. He feels like he's defending something, old and passed and tattered. He's talking like a lover. Defending the old Alexander like a lover. And he did want him then, in that way. Perhaps that's why it's been so bitter, stuck with him the longest.

"I don't hold you accountable for it," Burr says. "I don't hate you. I want you to come home. I'm--you know--I love you."

He fingers the ring in his pocket, pulls it out to settle heavy in his palm. "And I want to marry you."
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-16 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're you," Burr says, and he's crying a bit, and he doesn't know why. "You're my Alexander," gentle hands reaching out to guide those away from Hamilton's hair. And if Alexander will let him, he'll hold him--collapse against Alexander's chest and breathe.

He's trembling. Aren't they both, now? And scared? But what way is there but forward, clinging?
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-16 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Burr hold him, and marks him. Rubs scent onto skin from his own. Something that might be done when mating, but might also be done to soothe. A display of devotion.

Hamilton apologizes, apologizes, so different from the Hamilton he one knew, and Burr silences him, takes each apology into his mouth, hold it there, slow and needy. Should Burr apologize too? He has, but the words, those simple small ones--

Burr had thrown one forgiveness back at him, yet now he yearns for it. He takes the ring and presses it into Alexander's hand. Writes his own apology in small displays of submission, now--bares his throat and goes to his knees, for all his arms still cling to Hamilton's pant leg.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-17 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
Burr does. God help him, he does. Slides the ring onto Hamilton's finger and then covers the hand with his own. It is too painful to look at, too beautiful, too wonderful, too much. He kisses Hamilton's hand--each finger, and then presses it to the side of his face. Holds.

"I can't promise either--" Burr says. "Faithfulness, or to be always kind. I think we shall snap at one another a good deal, and fight when we ought not to. But I promise to love you, and care for you, when it is needed. And to allow you also your freedom, to make awful personal and political decisions, so long as you come home to me after."

He waits for Hamilton--to tell Burr when to rise, to nudge him to his feet. Gives him these small things, that he needs so badly.

There is another thing--

"How old are you, really? Don't lie to me again. Hosack said you are not more than nineteen."
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-17 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Burr thinks Hamilton might be lying. That he is younger than he says. It's been easy for Hamilton to convince himself of lies in the past. To defend then like truths.

But then Hamilton is pulling him up, kissing him, and Burr lets himself be claimed. Makes a little pleased sound, and lets his hands wander down, cupping Hamilton's stomach, jutting between them.

"Twins," Burr says, against skin. "you're going to get so big," a little tease, but he loves the idea.
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-18 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
A little gasp, and shudder, when Hamilton bites down on his gland.

"So confident are you, that you shall not bear two boys, or two girls?" Burr asks, but of course, more likely--that they shall have neither. That one or both shall die, during birth or after. Things best not to think about.

"I think you shall get very demanding, soon. More than you've been. What will you do when you can't reach your own cock?" Burr asks, though he knows--Hamilton will have to rely on Burr. Won't be able to get any relief of animal needs without him. He doesn't want to keep Hamilton pregnant and naked in his home forever...but just for a little while, the end of this pregnancy, sounds very appealing. Burr had though, before, years ago, that it would be a good way to keep Hamilton out of politics, or to shut him up--shove a cock in him. And he'd absolutely not entertained those fantasies a number of times.
Edited 2022-07-18 18:47 (UTC)
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[personal profile] slowtoanger 2022-07-19 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Burr's skin burns too, at Hamilton's words. Yes, he wants to take it. He wants Hamilton to punish him, to do the things he pays whores to do. Never quite satisfying, from them. But from Hamilton, for Hamilton--

"Yes," Burr breathes, pupils dilated. "Yes, you should punish me. What's to stop me from doing it again? From bending over some whore's bed, if you can't control your mate? I've been very bad, Alexander, and they've had me in all sorts of ways." And he's clutching on now, pulling them back towards the little guest bed. Oh, he hopes they're loud enough to disturb Hosack.

"I let them inside me, and I let them hit me, and I even fucked a few of them, came inside them. What are you going to do?"