He likes it when Hamilton touches his stomach. Likes it when Hamilton lavishes attention on it, the little looks he seems to shoot Burr, when they are going about their duties, the small attentions. Care, though he had begrudged Hamilton those things in the past, when he had still viewed each interaction as a struggle, one of the desiring to come out on top.

"Hamil--Alexander." Burr says, allows his voice to dip low, silky, watching Hamilton's face, the small shudder. Smiles. He likes this power he has, this effect. Would like to break a few decency laws, if they had not only just returned from another legal matter. Dips down again to suck on a patch of skin beneath Hamilton's ear, threads his fingers through Hamilton's hair. He has always loved Hamilton's hair, and how he can touch it whenever he pleases.

He has no doubt the two of them will be unstoppable after the war. If he had thought at any time his lust for Hamilton might lessen that lust for power, he is wrong. If anything it only wets it, the idea of the bodies entwined both in private and in government, doing awful things to each other where there should be only dignity. But his excitement is also tempered, by the need to reassure. His knowledge of Hamiton's upbringing, the poverty, the fight for affection and attention he would never receive. He would invite homemade rings from Hamilton, even if in married life they had to live in poverty.

"I love Montgomery," Burr says, pulling away, to rub his thumbs beneath Hamilton's eyes. It is hard to say this, but it is true, and they are to be married regardless, so his hesitance is absurd. "But I love you too."