(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

Anonymous asked
can you please make a greenhouse! prompt with Washinton hugging Hamilton from the back and kissing the back of his neck?

washington began to think of it as a game, to find his husband. he tallied his own points in his head, about how many places he had to look before finding the man. he had become very good at this game, and understood the rules, and the variables - at night he was more likely to be found in the library, which was usually very well lit, and midday in the greenhouse, and in the morning in his bed, or his study. when it was cold, he could be found in a lump in front of one of many fireplaces, with his lapdesk and whatever new concept he was nursing. he had been doing very well that week, and had tallied only a collection of eight points, most of them on one day where hamilton was in a spare side room, talking to himself and pacing the length of it as he worked out some strategy. the servants, washington had learned, suggested hamilton stay there, so that he did not crash into anyone else who was also not looking where they were going.

he did not even have to add a point, this time, becuase he found his husband on the first try, in the greenhouse, in the newly-added expansion wing that Hamilton had suggested. Hamilton’s newest hobby - which he would lose interest in in six month and leave Washington instead to care for - was carnivorous plans, with their peculiar jaw-features. his husband would go to the manure pile and catch flies and feed them to his new pets, which he had named (to Washington’s great amusement) after his political enemies.

Hamilton did not like to be startled, so Washington made his footsteps loud as he approached the man from the back. Hamilton seemed to have no attention to his personal dress unless they expected company, in which case he was immaculate - he currently wore only an undershirt and a leather workman’s vest. Washington felt a surge of warm affection in his stomach as he came closer.

“That poor fly, and that he must be sacrificed your vicious mouth, Callender,” Hamilton muttered to the plant, “You monster. Do you think I shall be caught as such? Do not think so, sir.”

Washington bit back his chuckle. He slid his hands slowly around Hamilton’s waist, and kissed the side of his neck, tender. “You feed your enemies like you feed your plants. Perhaps you should stop ranting to the former?”

Hamilton looked over at him and gave him a little kiss. “What, so they starve?” he asked, and smirked. “I would prefer to grand them a more noble death.”