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People often told Eliza how lucky she was to be married to Alexander Hamilton. She recognised how true that was, almost all of the time. Ninety-nine percent of the time. Maybe ninety-five. And a half.
The issue wasn’t with Alex. For all his nearly self-destructive work ethic and incessant chatter and selflessly motivated selfishness irritated her, it would always be overwhelmed by his loving gestures, his unprompted kisses simply because he wanted to hold her for a moment, the way he looked at her.
No Alex wasn’t the problem. It was his job.
His job was the reason she was stood here in a ridiculously fancy ballroom straight out of a history book, wearing a dress that was harder to move in than she remembered, surrounded by the dull buzz of the conversation from people she barely knew at an hour where she’d usually be in bed.
Eliza stifled a sigh and took another swallow of her gin and tonic. These things really weren’t as much fun without Angelica. Thanks to their senator father, they’d been partners in crime with things like this since they were six. These nights were one of the (few, Eliza insisted; many, Alex corrected) things she was better at than her husband, given her experience. Angelica would sweep her around, finding the most interesting people, pulling her onto the dance floor and making herself the centre of attention, while always still turning back to whisper comments for Eliza’s ears only. But there was now an entire ocean inconveniently placed between her and her oldest sister, who had only been gone for a week but she missed more than she could put into words. And not just because this particular gala was incredibly boring.
It had started off okay, with Alex on her arm introducing her as ‘my wife, my Eliza’ with as much pride as could be contained in a human voice. However, as they’d been pulled apart into different conversations and the hours had piled on, her patience had evaporated. Only The Agreement was keeping her from bolting.
In order to motivate Eliza, who usually got very sleepy and very grouchy past eleven pm, and Alex, with his constant fretting that with his ponytail and half beard and Puerto Rican features, he was never going to look like what certain people thought a Treasury Secretary should look like, to put up with the increasing frequency of these events, they’d had an idea.
The plan was they’d make conversation and smile for as long as was required. But as soon as they’d torn themselves away and got back to their house, they’d lock their bedroom door and spend the entire night doing unspeakable things to each other. The next day would then be spent falling asleep at the dinner table or on each other while watching TV. Alex had voiced his sneaking suspicion that at least one of their kids was the result of some charity gala or other, though he hadn’t crunched the numbers or anything.
The Agreement had felt fool proof but, tonight, Eliza was starting to feel some holes appearing. Because now, as the hours were rolling past and the party showed no signs of slowing down, she was becoming more and more aware of how much she wanted to walk over to Alex, grab him by the tie, pin him against a wall and kiss him. She kept trying to focus on the conversation around her, the important people she should probably go over and talk to about maybe increasing the contributions to the orphanage she’d already got them to agree to. But the more Eliza tried, the more her mind seemed to wander to whether they’d get caught if they snuck off to make out (maybe a little more) in the bathroom. No one had caught them at Washington’s inauguration; surely they’d get away with it again? She’d always be the first to admit that her husband’s fashion choices were shaky but, tonight, she had to say he looked damn good in that electric blue suit. His long dark hair neatly pulled back, his lean frame and pointed face, and his eyes that she could see glittering even from here… Eliza gave a hasty cough, hoping she wasn’t blushing visibly.
But Alex was all the way over the other side of the room, probably talking about numbers or banks or something. Her eyes found him in the crowd and sure enough he had a gaggle of people around him and he was doing that thing where he gestured so wildly he was in danger of giving someone a black eye.
Eliza sighed internally and drained her glass smoothly, striding over to get another one from the bar in the corner. She seriously needed to calm down; she was acting like some hormone-crazed teenager rather than an adult woman. Once the ice cold glass was in her hand, she held it against her cheek in an attempt to take the heat out of her face, taking a deep breath.
She could wait. They could wait. Two more hours, maximum, and he’d be all her’s.
But he hadn’t even looked over at her once; she thought in frustration. Every time she looked over at him, he was turned away. She’d been trying to catch his eye all night, for God’s sake.
Alexander was bored. He was pretty buzzed. He wanted to go home and take this damn suit off. And his wife’s dress too.
Eliza would usually tease him, as they’d flick through the official photos from nights like this because, in 90% of them, his eyes would be on her when they were supposed to be on the photographer. Alex would blush coyly, asking how anyone could blame him, how was he supposed to stay focused when she was standing next to him looking like that? She’d roll her eyes and call him a dork but he’d always be able to tell she was pleased.
Alex had a feeling tonight would be a similar story. Eliza looked unbelievable. His jaw had hit his chest when he’d walked in to their bedroom that night. The dress she was wearing was simple, without a pattern or adornments, just a swathe of deep burgundy cloth twisted and wrapped into a beautiful piece of clothing. Her dark hair had achieved a similar elegance through simplicity, pulled back and tucked in to expose her gentle, heart shaped face. She was wearing black flats (no force on heaven or earth would get her into a pair of high heels these days) and no jewellery, save her wedding ring and the bright yellow string bracelet Angie had made for her on Mother’s day. It clashed a little but he knew Eliza would never have dreamed of taking it off. He still remembered that bottle cap necklace Phillip had made for her back when he was five that Eliza still wore to all his birthday parties, even now their son was old enough to get embarrassed by it and whine.
As beautiful as she looked in that dress, Alex thought with a small, private smile, she’d look even better when it was on the floor. He shifted a little uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how turned on he was getting imagining what he was going to do with her later on. He really, really could not afford to…show that here. There was definitely no way to come back from that. Remember The Agreement, he thought with a sigh, taking a break from explaining why the current British fiscal policy was junk to take another swallow of his beer.
Alex was aware his eyes kept drifting away to find her way more often than was strictly necessary but he couldn’t help it. Another thing he couldn’t help was noticing how, every time he looked over at her, her head would be turned away as she talked to someone else, probably being amazing and fantastic and funny all the way over there where he wasn’t. Alex was trying not to be annoyed by that and failing. He’d been trying to catch her eye all night, for God’s sake.
While separated, Eliza and Alex independently arrived at the same conclusion; time slowed down to a snail crawl when you were ridiculously anxious for sex but had to wait for half eleven.
Almost the exact instant the clock hands fell into the right position, each quickly excused themselves from the conversation and went off to find the other. Thus followed five minutes of just missing each other and weaving through the crowd before they finally met in the middle of the dance floor.
“Oh hey there,” Alex smiled, trying to sound like he hadn’t been looking for her.
“Hey there yourself,” Eliza grinned, trying to sound like she hadn’t been looking for him.
There was a moment and the two of them started to giggle, helplessly.
“Hey,” Alex had a thought, nervously rubbing the back of his head, “Look, I want to get out of here as much as you do but, as long as we’re standing here, do you, um, mind if I have this dance?”
Eliza tilted her head, as if considering when they both knew what the answer would be. She loved to dance but often had to accommodate her husband’s shyness on that front (it was okay, she always had one of her sisters to partner with). Alex and Eliza’s dancing was usually reserved for their own living room when they’d had a few glasses of wine and were feeling silly and would often end with Angie claiming the next dance from her dad and one of their sons whirling Eliza around the room.
But Alex was feeling brave. And really wanted an excuse to press against his Eliza.
There was a bit of stepping on toes and feet getting tangled as Alex and Eliza moved around the empty dance floor to a slow jazz song that neither of them knew but the two of them had smiles a mile wide and eyes full of a sure and certain kind of love. They fell against each other, laughing as the song faded out, not caring that they were drawing eyes. Alex pulled away a little, looking at her seriously for a minute. He had a strange expression.
“You mean everything to me Eliza,” he sighed, “You know that, right?”
Eliza nodded, not sure she could actually say anything out loud without crying. She rested her head against his chest, all the frustration she’d felt over the evening suddenly being replaced with uncomplicated happiness.
“Okay, can we get out of here? Now?” Eliza murmured, after she felt like she’d waited the appropriate amount of time to observe Alex’s romantic gesture, “I need you. I really need you. Naked, preferably. As soon as humanly possible.”
He tried not to look smug. He failed.
“Taxi will be here soon,” Alex looked up from his phone, shivering slightly in the night air. He’d given Eliza his jacket, as they’d come down the stairs.
“How soon?” Eliza asked curiously.
“Uh, five minutes?”
She smiled, “Perfect.”
Before Alex really knew what was happening, his wife had grabbed the front of his shirt and whirled him against the wall of the building, kissing him hard. He melted instantly, his body moving to fit hers so there was as little space as possible between them, his hands holding her as tight as he dared. They kissed without holding anything back, grabbing fistfuls of hair, tongues flickering, Alex gasping adoring descriptions of her, fervent declarations of how much he loved her, what she meant to him until he ran out of air. Eliza hitched her leg up to his hips, his hand catching it and sliding up her thigh eagerly, his fingers digging into her flesh hungrily. Meanwhile her hand found its way under the waistband of his pants and her nails were equally busy.
Those five minutes evaporated much quicker than either of them liked. It only felt like seconds before they were untangling themselves.
“Come on, what, ten minutes? Then we’re home,” Alex grinned, panting a little, looking at her grumpy face as he extracted his hand from her dress.
As it turned out, making out in the back of a moving vehicle was a little hard. With every sharp turn and speed bump, of which there was apparently many between the ballroom and the Hamiltons’ house, Alex and Eliza kept bumping noses or falling into each other. A lot more silent laughter than kissing was done on the journey.
Alex and Eliza were stealing a last kiss against their front door when they both noticed there was a lot of noise coming from behind it; a lot more than there should be from a house that was supposed to be full of sleeping children. The parents gave each other a look.
When they walked in, there was what looked like a pillow fort in their front room that was writhing with kids while Phillip and Angie wrestled on one of the sofas.
“Well, good evening,” Alex announced dryly, using his courtroom voice. The noise quickly stopped and several small guilty faces turned to face them.
“Peggy?” Eliza called, trying not to let her amusement show.
Her sister’s bouncy curls and dark face, set in an expression of complete and total innocence, appeared from underneath one of the blanket walls of the fort.
“Oh hey, guys. Have a good night?” she inquired, her tone perfectly neutral.
Alex and Eliza did a simultaneous eyebrow raise. Peggy’s grin faltered a little.
Peggy made up for it though, helping put the kids to bed. Between the three of them, it only took forty minutes.
“So how was the party?” Peggy asked Eliza, leaning against the front door, gearing up for the standard Schuyler sister goodbye, which could run on for as much as an hour.
Eliza chewed her bottom lip and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek, “Look, sweetheart, you know I love you but can you beat it. Me and Alex kind of need to be alone right now. You hear what I’m saying?”
Peggy’s smirk was glorious, her eyes drifted up the stairs to where Alex was, as usual, refusing to let his kids go to bed without each one of them getting a kiss and a hug, “Hear you loud and clear, big sister. We still grabbing coffee with Angelica on Monday?”
Eliza nodded at her sister’s retreating back, “I’m going to get a lot of flack for this, I’m guessing?”
Peggy laughed delightedly before she disappeared, “Oh yeah. Brace yourself.”
Eliza was shaking her head as Alex came up behind her. He slipped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the back of her neck.
“Hey,” he murmured throatily, his hands sliding down to cradle her hips.
“Nope!” she sang, twisting around, her hand moving immediately to grasp the front of his pants, drawing a short yelp from him, “Enough waiting. Let’s do this. Now.”
“Okay. Yep,” he squeaked, his voice a little high but very, very excited.
She led him into the living room, resolutely shutting the door behind them. He was half out of his jacket by the time she’d pounced on him, the two of them falling on to the sofa in a helpless tangle.
Alex’s breath was hot against her neck as her hands swiftly undid the buttons of his shirt; his hands were otherwise occupied with the zip of her dress. It took a lot of fumbling and yanking and slightly awkward shifting but eventually they were both undressed to each other’s satisfaction without having to pull away from each other for more than an instant.
They both simultaneously realised how much they felt like college students again, hurriedly trying to get at each other before they were walked in on. Alex in particular was getting strong flashbacks from their hasty fumbling in Eliza’s room whenever they’d gone up to her parents’ for the holidays. It was kind of fun.
“You are so beautiful,” Alex drawled, his hands running over her bare breasts, thumbs lingering eagerly on her dark nipples, grinning as he felt them stiffen under his touch.
“Then fuck me,” Eliza grinned, biting down on her lower lip and grinding her hips against his.
“Happily,” he gasped, his voice a little choked as he felt himself get even harder, if that was at all possible at this point.
Alex took one of her nipples in his mouth, sinking his teeth in ever so slightly, as she took him inside her. Eliza’s gasp was like the sweetest music he’d ever heard in his life and it only drove him on.
Alex still remembered how nervous Eliza had been the first time they’d made love, how she’d let him instruct her and guide her until they’d both been trembling with a kind of pleasure they’d never thought possible. He hadn’t minded at all, he’d liked taking the lead, but he couldn’t help but love this confident, certain woman his wife had turned into over their years of marriage. The one who knew his needs as well as he did himself, whose body he’d mapped out completely, the place he knew he was safe.
Alex and Eliza found their rhythm quickly, matching each other gasp for gasp, thrust for thrust, climbing together. His typical feverish commentary, his gasps begging her to go faster, deeper, that it felt so fucking good, to come on his cock, just like that, oh god, Eliza I love you, it all became an indistinct babble as it became too much. Eliza had no idea how he did it, she could concentrate on nothing but his body, the feel of him working away inside her, the unbelievable heat spreading through her.
Eliza’s nails drew blood from his shoulders as she finally came, the way she screamed his name bringing him over the edge just a few seconds behind her, his head slamming back against the pillows with a low roar of ecstasy.
“Wow,” Alex gasped, the moment he was able, “I mean, wow, Eliza. That was so, so good. Wow.”
Eliza couldn’t manage any more than a low happy whimper against his shoulder; her brain was still in pieces.
They spent a while in the low light just listening to each other’s rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. After needing each other for so long, it was enough to enjoy just having each other. Alex’s hand was a comforting weight on her shoulder, the simple touch of her fingertips tracing along the hollow of his throat made him happier than he could ever say.
She really was lucky to be married to Alexander Hamilton, Eliza thought, while Alex thought exactly the same thing about how lucky he was to have her.
“So was that worth the wait?” Alex asked, drawing a loose lock of her hair through his fingers.
She raised her eyebrows at him, smiling knowingly, “Oh yeah.”