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Jun. 17th, 2017 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iniquiticityAnonymous asked
Hamilton perspective anon again! Thank you, that was amazing. You're one of my favorite Ham/Wash writers. Can I ask for maybe Hamiltons perspective before/during/after Chapter 48 of Greenhouses?
i actually forgot that chapter 48 happened BEFORE the bit with him figuring out who lafayette is so it’s possible that maybe it wasn’t like.. whatever. i’m being stupid.
anyway. this.
These were the facts as Hamilton knew them:
- It was obvious that Washington was attracted to him and yet he denied himself out of some odd protectiveness. He would not take or even ask for what he wanted, maybe because he felt Hamilton could not agree to himself in the context of their relationship. Which was fair, but yet Hamilton wanted him, and made it obvious, and yet still he denied himself. It was ridiculous.
- He was talking to Adrienne - Emissary du Noalles - now. Angelica had told him, and explained the whole strategy. Hamilton knew the sort of woman Emissary du Noalles was and he found it insanely unlikely that Emissary du Noalles would agree to Washington’s suggestions. He would be disappointed.
Hamilton had plans. What he liked when he was disappointed was to lose himself in the arms of the man or woman that desired him. He would make Washington understand. He knew this area. He would delight the man.
Washington was peculiar when he came home. Sulking. Deeply sulking, if the slow drag of his shoulders and his slow steps meant something. he barely looked at the bare Hamilton.
It helped when he was down. He could be down, just differently than Washington was. But down was down. John helped with his body, when he was. So he would.
He asked, and Washington agreed. So he kissed and licked and sucked and touched him and yes, it was wonderful, firm and strong and impressive, and Washington agreed, but he was not – he was strange.
But he could not stop. He could not stop because Washington did not want him to stop, but also because if he stopped he would be forced to do something else and he had no idea what that was. So he did not stop. Washington did not deny him. Washington was firm. Erect. Could take him, when he wanted. For a moment they lay there and Hamilton felt that, it had been strange, but not bad, But then.
Washington fled. There was no other word for what he did. Threw on his clothes with unknown speed and fled. Disappeared down hallways and Hamilton followed, autumn air chill on his skin. Washington did not hear his shouts or ignored them. He must have not heard them. He must have been – had Hamilton broken him somehow? Had Hamilton pushed him over some unknown edge? Had–
Oh, Lafayette was going to murder him for his. Legitimately slaughter him and leave his limbs around as a warning. Washington kept moving and Hamilton found it impossible to follow at the speed and – where was he going???
Where was he going? How could he go? In the middle of the night with the winter prickle of cold and he did not even have a jacket and–
What had he done?
Hamilton perspective anon again! Thank you, that was amazing. You're one of my favorite Ham/Wash writers. Can I ask for maybe Hamiltons perspective before/during/after Chapter 48 of Greenhouses?
i actually forgot that chapter 48 happened BEFORE the bit with him figuring out who lafayette is so it’s possible that maybe it wasn’t like.. whatever. i’m being stupid.
anyway. this.
These were the facts as Hamilton knew them:
- It was obvious that Washington was attracted to him and yet he denied himself out of some odd protectiveness. He would not take or even ask for what he wanted, maybe because he felt Hamilton could not agree to himself in the context of their relationship. Which was fair, but yet Hamilton wanted him, and made it obvious, and yet still he denied himself. It was ridiculous.
- He was talking to Adrienne - Emissary du Noalles - now. Angelica had told him, and explained the whole strategy. Hamilton knew the sort of woman Emissary du Noalles was and he found it insanely unlikely that Emissary du Noalles would agree to Washington’s suggestions. He would be disappointed.
Hamilton had plans. What he liked when he was disappointed was to lose himself in the arms of the man or woman that desired him. He would make Washington understand. He knew this area. He would delight the man.
Washington was peculiar when he came home. Sulking. Deeply sulking, if the slow drag of his shoulders and his slow steps meant something. he barely looked at the bare Hamilton.
It helped when he was down. He could be down, just differently than Washington was. But down was down. John helped with his body, when he was. So he would.
He asked, and Washington agreed. So he kissed and licked and sucked and touched him and yes, it was wonderful, firm and strong and impressive, and Washington agreed, but he was not – he was strange.
But he could not stop. He could not stop because Washington did not want him to stop, but also because if he stopped he would be forced to do something else and he had no idea what that was. So he did not stop. Washington did not deny him. Washington was firm. Erect. Could take him, when he wanted. For a moment they lay there and Hamilton felt that, it had been strange, but not bad, But then.
Washington fled. There was no other word for what he did. Threw on his clothes with unknown speed and fled. Disappeared down hallways and Hamilton followed, autumn air chill on his skin. Washington did not hear his shouts or ignored them. He must have not heard them. He must have been – had Hamilton broken him somehow? Had Hamilton pushed him over some unknown edge? Had–
Oh, Lafayette was going to murder him for his. Legitimately slaughter him and leave his limbs around as a warning. Washington kept moving and Hamilton found it impossible to follow at the speed and – where was he going???
Where was he going? How could he go? In the middle of the night with the winter prickle of cold and he did not even have a jacket and–
What had he done?