what'd i miss? // jeffmads

s i x

James Madison

Night came and went. It came and went too fast, honestly. James had wanted to sleep, and the three days left before his first class of the semester were getting shorter and shorter.

Oh, and the fact that he'd blown Jefferson off last night. That too.

Groaning inwardly, Madison rolled out of his bed and headed toward his desk to retrieve his sketchbook, to draw and take his mind of Thomas. On the top was no longer his drawing of the other, instead, a new sheet of paper with a note scrawled across it.

Madison took in a sharp breath.

His eyes scanned the paper as he read it to himself, and he almost had a heart attack that Jefferson had seen the drawing.

He thanked Jesus that Thomas hadn't flipped any further in his book. Deciding to put his drawing off for later, he opened the door to his room to see if Jefferson was there.

He was. The fushia-clothed macaroni enthusiast was sitting at the table, aggressively eating none other than mac-and-cheese.

Madison didn't call him.

He stood quietly in the door, trying to make sure he didn't see Madison. But, because of his shitty immune system, he coughed—quite loudly, actually—and Thomas turned to face him.

"Oh. Hi, Jemmy."

"Hello, Jefferson." There it was again. Madison couldn't help himself but call the other by his last name. Apparently, he was still subconsciously angry.

Thomas stood. "I was about to leave." He looked hurt, and somewhat... hopeful, like he wanted Madison to tell him that he didn't mean it.

Madison didn't say anything at first. Then, he spoke quietly, "Thomas, there is nothing more I want than to forgive you. You didn't even do anything to me. But..." He felt his face heat up and he turned away. He couldn't tell Jefferson how he felt, not now, not after this. "I guess I was... jealous... of you... because... I'm..." He froze, and his mouth wouldn't work. And then, he said something. Something that wasn't true. "I'm your best friend and I couldn't see you with a guy like Hamilton."

Thomas stood. A smile caressed Jefferson's face for a split second before it was gone, and his eyes burned with hesitation. And then his smile was back. It was less genuine, but real enough, and he embraced Madison.

"It's okay. I didn't know what I was doing," Thomas whispered. Madison flinched. "Thanks." It felt good knowing everything was okay between them, but... he couldn't get the words out that he liked Thomas. What a coward.

He hugged him tighter.

—
Thomas Jefferson

Surprisingly, the hug felt good. Originally, it was supposed to comfort Madison, but Jefferson was enjoying it.

Finally, he pulled away. Thoughts scrambled in his brain—probably gay thoughts—and he felt a realization like a sharp dart in his heart.

Madison liked him, didn't he? That's why he was jealous?

Thomas stared at Madison for too long. James looked nervous.

"I have to go. I'll see you after class, okay? Meet me after class for lunch." Thomas saluted and grabbed his jacket, slipping out the door.

His heart was on fire and his chest was tight. Did he return the feelings he thought Madison had? He didn't fucking know.

He didn't know if he wanted to know. Did he? Fuck. Jefferson sprinted down the hall. Class started in fifteen minutes, he would make it, but he was distracted his thoughts and went the wrong direction.

Do I have feelings for James Madison??