Burr nuzzles his head against Hamilton's chest, against his scent gland. He wants to smell like Hamilton--wants everyone to know that he is Hamilton's omega, and this child will be theirs. Brings his lips up and kisses there, to that spot where the scent is strongest, nibbles, sucks. Enough to fluster Hamilton--tease him.

He lets out a content sigh and stills, sliding down to hear Hamilton's heartbeat. The stress of the past few days dripping out of him.

"When are we going to be married?" Burr asks. "And rings, we'll need rings." His hand fiddles with the chain he wears around his neck. "I'll want to wear Monty's, too," he says, quietly, afraid Hamilton will begrudge him this. "And maybe Washington will allow us to share quarters, officially. Maybe he won't send me away."