It is quite an overwhelming thing to read, and on the tail-end of a public proposal, revelation of pregnancy, and court-martial. Burr has to sit down when he finishes, take a few deep breathes, leaning against the wood of the building, and read it again.
Burr's children will be Hamilton's children. Children. Plural. He can feel his breathing getting faster, and he has to cover his eyes, force himself to calm down. Not a panic attack, but some kind of swell of emotions.
He huries to his feet, an action that will only become more difficult, in the coming weeks, down the paths in front of the court house and after Hamilton. They are deep in discussion in some matter Burr does not care about, but at the moment propriety is the last thing on his mind.
"I'm sorry General Washington, might I borrow Hamilton for a moment?"
And Lafayette, bless him, chooses that moment to pretend to twist an ankle, going headlong into the dirt. Washington is too distracted to notice Burr pulling Hamilton away, through a series of large hedges to a private space between the overgrowth.
He shoves Hamilton hard, to that he goes toppling on the grass, but he does not give the shock and hurt enough time to settle in Hamilton's eyes before he is on him, pushing him back into the dirt and kissing him, hard, biting at his lips and pressing the whole of his body against his, swell pushing against Hamilton's stomach. All of him.
Hamilton is wonderful. Hamilton is beautiful, eyes sparkling here in the outdoors, and they can kiss and touch as much as they please (well, maybe not as much), because they are engaged and maybe in love, and he will be Burr's, and Burr will be his.
no subject
Burr's children will be Hamilton's children. Children. Plural. He can feel his breathing getting faster, and he has to cover his eyes, force himself to calm down. Not a panic attack, but some kind of swell of emotions.
He huries to his feet, an action that will only become more difficult, in the coming weeks, down the paths in front of the court house and after Hamilton. They are deep in discussion in some matter Burr does not care about, but at the moment propriety is the last thing on his mind.
"I'm sorry General Washington, might I borrow Hamilton for a moment?"
And Lafayette, bless him, chooses that moment to pretend to twist an ankle, going headlong into the dirt. Washington is too distracted to notice Burr pulling Hamilton away, through a series of large hedges to a private space between the overgrowth.
He shoves Hamilton hard, to that he goes toppling on the grass, but he does not give the shock and hurt enough time to settle in Hamilton's eyes before he is on him, pushing him back into the dirt and kissing him, hard, biting at his lips and pressing the whole of his body against his, swell pushing against Hamilton's stomach. All of him.
Hamilton is wonderful. Hamilton is beautiful, eyes sparkling here in the outdoors, and they can kiss and touch as much as they please (well, maybe not as much), because they are engaged and maybe in love, and he will be Burr's, and Burr will be his.