I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this.

It was a quite typical Tuesday. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the sounds of someone falling down a flight of stairs could be heard from within the residence of a certain feeble yet clever congressman. Now, one may not think that this would be a normal occurrence, but unfortunately for James Madison, it was. A soft groan came from the bottom of said stairs where James now found himself after his most recent tumble.

"Why?" he asked no one in particular not yet picking himself up off the floor.

As he laid there, unwilling to move, he contemplated his life. Somehow, this seemed to happen every day. Every morning he would get up out of bed and get dressed, and every morning, as he headed downstairs, he would somehow end up falling down the stairs rather than walking down them. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why it was happening; he just assumed that he was bad at walking down stairs.

Finally, James pulled himself up off the floor and walked to the kitchen. As much as he'd like to, he couldn't lay on the floor all day; he had a Cabinet meeting to attend today. Not that he ever said much in Cabinet meetings. Most of the time he just served as back up for his friend, Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, but he knew that Thomas valued him as more than just an entourage, didn't he?

After eating a quick breakfast, James called for a carriage and rode off to work. When he arrived, he was greeted on the front steps by an unfriendly face.

"You should have stayed home, Madison," the voice said. He was about to continue when James cut him off.

"Hamilton," he replied curtly without making eye contact, though if he had looked at Hamilton's face, he would have seen how disappointed he was with being cut off. Clearly, the guy likes to talk.

As he entered the meeting room, he saw Thomas there waiting for him. As they made eye contact, Thomas's face seemed to light up at the sight of James. He made his way over and clapped his hand on James's shoulder.

"Jemmy!" he exclaimed in his southern accent. "Boi am I glad to see you!"

"Thomas, it's good to see you, too," James replied. There was a pause as the two looked around to see that they were alone.

"So, how was your morning, darlin'?" Thomas asked, throwing the word darling out so casually. This caught James off guard, and he blinked a couple of times before responding. He wasn't quite sure what he should take the word to mean.

"O-oh . . . well, uhhh--" he stuttered out before being cut off by a loud, obnoxious voice entering the room.

"I swear, the whole thing is an absurdly foolish idea!"

Hamilton.

The two Democratic-Republicans turned towards the door, both of them glaring. They saw Alexander Hamilton enter the room, talking some poor guys ear off about something or another. It didn't really matter what it was; with that man, everything was the most important issue so long as he was talking about it. When he saw the pair staring at him, he immediately froze and glared back. The guy he was holding hostage with his rant breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to his seat, or rather a seat that was far from Hamilton's.

As more people filed into the room, the intense staring contest continued. Each man that entered uncomfortably scooted past the trio to their seats, immediately feeling the tension in the room as soon as they'd entered it. This continued until President Washington entered. He let out an irritated sigh.

"At least they're quiet today," he muttered under his breath. That detail was a rare occurrence. "All right gentlemen, enough . . . staring? Let's get this meeting underway." At this, Hamilton jumped.

"Yes, of course, sir!" he said as he hurriedly made his way to his seat.

"Kiss up," Thomas muttered earning a snicker from James and another glare from Hamilton. Once all three had taken their seats Washington continued.

"Okay gentlemen, the issue on the table today is that France is on the edge of declaring war with Great Britain. As you are all aware, France helped us win our own war with the British. The question is, do we provide assistance to the French, or do we declare neutrality. My decision does not require congressional approval. You need only convince me what plan of action we should take. Secretary Jefferson, what are your opinions on the matter?" With that, Jefferson stood and began his argument.

As James watched Thomas present his opinion, he got a strange tingly feeling in his stomach. There was something about the way he spoke that James found attractive, but there was no way Thomas felt the same way, was there? James was lost in thought, and he wouldn't have noticed that Thomas had finished and that Hamilton had started if not for the fact that Hamilton immediately started screaming swears at the top of his lungs. Before he knew it, the meeting was over, and Jefferson was trash talking Hamilton about how he was nothing without Washington to back him. (sorry I pretty much skipped the Cabinet Battle, but we all know what happens there, and it's not really super important to the story).

"Hamilton!" Washington called from the hallway. Hamilton turned to leave, but Jefferson stopped him.

"Daddy's calling," he said, pushing past him into the hallway followed by Madison. Hamilton watched them leave with a hurt-looking expression.

As James followed Thomas to his office, he started thinking about what had happened during the meeting. He'd only gotten to speak once, and all he said was 'France'. He was starting to wonder if Thomas was really his friend. As they walked into Thomas's office, however, Thomas seemed to notice that James was feeling down. Seeing James look sad made his heart hurt. He so badly wanted to wrap the smaller man in a big, warm hug, but he wasn't sure how James would react. He hadn't realized he'd been staring at James until he saw the confused and uncomfortable expression on his face. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked in a concerned tone. "Did you fall down the stairs again?"

"Yeah . . . but that's not it," James responded looking at the floor. Thomas was confused.

"Then what is it? Was it the cabinet meeting? It's not like we did awfully back there."

"We?"

" . . . "

"You did all the talking back there! And what did I get to say?"

"James, I--"

"France! Literally France! Am I just here to make you look better?"

"James, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he put his arm around the smaller man. "You know I love you, right?" James inhaled sharply.

"W-what?"

"Erm . . . I-I mean--"

James cut him off by standing up on his toes and pressing his lips to Thomas's. For a moment Thomas didn't kiss back, and in that moment, James mentally freaked out. But then Thomas kissed back, wrapping his arms around James's waist as James brought his hands up to Thomas's amazingly poofy hair, and everything melted away. It was just them. Nothing else mattered, and it was perfect.

Until . . .

"JEFFERSON, I SWEAR TO GOD!" the door to the office flew open.

Thomas and James jumped away from each other blushing and turned around to see Hamilton staring wide-eyed at them, his mouth agape.

"HOLY HECC!!!"

A/N
Ok, I've never shared a piece of my writing like this before. Was it good? I'd appreciate some feedback if you guys have any. Thanks for reading! :)