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Thomas is really grateful for two things: the fact that Alexander is really stupid, and that Lafayette is willing to go along with a joke.
It's the first day of class, and sitting in the front seat of the Sociology, Thomas watches as Hamilton, his well-known rival since the first day he met him, steps into the room. Well, if Thomas is being honest, he doesn't really hate him, but the man is just so damn stubborn and rejects any type of kindness he tries to offer. While all of that annoys him, Thomas can't deny that he admires him and his persistence in getting what he wants. He also can't deny that he admires a lot more about him than that, but he won't admit that to anyone, so he'll settle with whatever he can get with Alex.
When their eyes meet, Thomas feels his heart begin to beat sharply. He tries to force a scowl on his face, but it's quickly cut off in shock when Alex smiles wide and waves at him. Then, to add to his confusion, he says, "Laf! You didn't tell me you had this class for first period!"
Thomas freezes at Lafayette's name. It's common that he and his twin are mistaken, but he had expected that Alexander would have been able to tell the difference between his best friend and mortal enemy.
Then, he feels his hair bob in its ponytail above his head. Of fucking course, he thinks, trying not to feel irritated at himself. Of course the one day he decides to put his hair up, the one man who hates him mistakes him for his twin. A strange wave of shock comes over him, and all he can do is sputter, "Uh..."
Alex, not surprisingly, walks over and takes the empty seat next to his, then immediately starts talking. "I'm glad you're in this class, though," he says, pulling out a pile of textbooks from his bag, "but I thought you said you had Computer Science first?"
He should tell him. He should let him know that he's sitting next to the man he hates, and end this before it gets any more awkward than it will be. However, ignoring his rational thoughts as he gets a wicked idea, Thomas grins and clears his throat. "No, no, I was mistaken," he responds, curling his accent into the thick French that Lafayette always talks with. "I have that second period."
Alex nods in acceptance, and Thomas can't help feeling a whirl of excitement that he just got away with lying to him. He feels a twinge of guilt at his dishonesty, but he tries to push it away. As far as Alex knows, I hate him as much as he hates me, he thinks. He tries not to feel bitter about that, but it's difficult, especially when all he's ever wanted was to be able to have a civil conversation with the man.
"Well, I'm glad you were, because that means we at least have one class together," Alex says with a grin. "Also, I think Lewis teaches that class. I bet you'll like him, he's really nice." Then, his face falling, he says, "I'm not so lucky, I have Chemistry with Lee for my second period."
Thomas feels his heart skip a beat, and it takes a lot of self-control for him to not say, I do, too, because he remembers that he's not supposed to be Thomas right now. So, he instead says carefully, "Thomas is in that class, too."
Alex groans, slamming his head on the desk. "Are you serious?" he asks with a sigh.
Thomas nods. "I am, mon ami," he says.
"Just my fucking luck, and I don't think I have any of our friends in that class to help me."
Thomas forces a laugh out, even though annoyance begins to well up in his chest. Brat, he thinks fondly. "I am sure you can survive," he says, then, stupidly, clasps a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He feels cold as well as surprised that he managed to do that without Alexander screaming at him, and it only gets better when Alex chuckles and mutters his thanks.
Class starts eventually, and Alex gets through it easily, paying attention and writing down notes from the syllabus. Thomas, however, is finding it difficult to hang onto their professor's words, and he hopes it isn't obvious to Alex how shaky he feels.
I can't believe I got away with that, he thinks. Then, when class ends, Thomas grabs his books and explains hurriedly to Alex that he just remembered that he forgot some books back at his dorm.
Teasingly, Thomas says as he races away, "Enjoy your class with Lee!"
Alex flips him off with a fond smile, and Christ, isn't that a sight to behold? Who knew Alex could look so fondly at Thomas.
Because he thinks you're Laf, dumbass, Thomas thinks to himself. The lie that's manifested itself feels heavy, but he pushes it off as he slings his bag over his shoulder and races to the Creative Writing class that Laf is supposed to be leaving any second.
The second his twin walks out of the room, Thomas lets his hair down and grabs him by the arm. Lafayette looks at him in surprise, pulling out of his grasp and asking, "What is wrong, mon cher frère?"
"If Hamilton asks, you have Sociology first period, and Computer Science next," Thomas gasps with a wild grin.
Laf only appears to look more confused, but then his gaze darkens as he asks, "Thomas. What is it that you have done?"
"Alex kinda mistook me for you today in Sociology, and I might have allowed it to happen?" he phrases the end of it like a question, then grunts as Lafayette kicks his shin.
"You idiot," Lafayette snaps, reaching out and grabbing his sweatshirt in order to hold him up. "I know you're ever so madly in love with him, but did you really think it necessary to start this?"
"Hey, if Alex doesn't want to look stupid, then he shouldn't act stupid," Thomas argues weakly, still feeling the pain in his shin from where he was kicked. Then, glaring, "And I'm not 'madly in love', you little French fuck, that isn't what this is. Jesus, did you have to kick me so damn hard?"
Lafayette smirks knowingly. "You deserved it, frère," he says, patting Thomas on the back. "Now, I suggest somewhat of a wardrobe change, or Alex is gonna know something is up for sure."
"Are you gonna tell him?" Thomas asks, slipping his sweatshirt off and stuffing it into his bag.
Lafayette shakes his head. "I think that should be up to you," he says. "Now, I am going to be late for my Psychology class if I hang around any longer. See you tonight, Thomas!" With a final wave, Lafayette bounces off, and Thomas runs in the other direction.
He makes it to Chemistry in time, and Alex has already beaten him there, sitting in the back row with his chin in the palm of his hand. When Thomas meets Alexander's eyes, he scowls and turns away. Forcing the hurt down with a polished grin, he walks in Alexander's direction with a beat more relaxed than he actually feels and takes the empty seat next to him.
Watching him with a glare sharper than steel, Alex snaps as soon as he sits down, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Choosing my seat, Alexander," Thomas replies, hoping he doesn't sound as disappointed as he feels.
"Well choose a different one!" Alex snaps. Then, his eyes roaming over him, Thomas realizes that he must be analyzing his appearance. He knows Alex didn't see his shirt in first period, but knowing him, he'd probably be able to point out a fingernail and declare that Thomas was lying all along.
Still, he tries to act like he doesn't notice. "It's only a seat, Hamilton," he says, willing his voice to drip with annoyance. "There's no need to be so hostile."
Alex huffs angrily and grabs his books, preparing to stand up, but is cut off as Lee steps into view and immediately begins his lecturing. Reluctantly, Alex clearly knows that he'll only cause trouble if he tries to find a different seat now, and sits back down. His entire being radiates anger, and Thomas feels himself instinctively smiling at the reaction.
Wonder what he'd say if he knew, Thomas wonders, watching him out of the corner of his eye as he takes down the notes of the syllabus. It's more easier for him in this environment to focus, now that he doesn't have to lie about his identity, but he still bolts out of class the second it's over.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. He has a class with Lafayette during the middle of the day, and Lafayette demands details on what happened. They sit in the back so that Thomas can explain everything to him, and when he finishes, Lafayette shakes his head.
"Idiot de frère," Lafayette sighs. "He is going to find out sometime, you realize."
"Let's let it go on for a little while longer, though," Thomas insists with a smirk. "I wanna see his face when he realizes he was acting like I was his best buddy."
"He might actually kill you," Lafayette warns.
Thomas shrugs. "Small price to pay to see him humiliated." His own words make him feel a bit upset, but he pushes that feeling away the second it comes up.
Lafayette shakes his head again. "I thought you weren't supposed to hurt the ones you love," he says sadly.
Thomas scowls at that. "I don't love him," he mutters, even though the pressing guilt in his chest says otherwise.
---
About ten days go by, and Alex still hasn't found out. Thomas knows that as more time passes, he's only making it worse for himself, Alex, and even Lafayette, but he finds he can't stop.
He's pretended before to act like his twin just to confuse people, and to get a few laughs when others try to guess their identities, so it's not incredibly difficult to settle into a routine. Still, he brings a sweater every morning, and takes it off before he goes to Chemistry. Hell, on one day he even brought shorts under his sweatpants, just to throw Alex off even more. Lafayette's been a good sport about it, and laughed about his experiences every time Thomas shared about them in their Physics class.
The building guilt in his chest grows, especially when Alex shares information that he knows he would only share with Laf. He'll speak in whispered French to him, telling about something that's troubling him. Another class, a teacher, some other irritating student. He's even admitted that it bothers him whenever someone gives a good point, and isn't that an interesting topic to someone like himself? He'll badger Alex about his debates, although it may not seem that way to the man himself, since he adores talking.
Then, Alex complains one day, "It's just my luck that I have a teacher I hate and the man who hates me in one class."
And, because Thomas can't stop himself, he says quietly, "Thomas does not hate you."
Alexander's eyebrows widen in disbelief. "Are you and I thinking of the same Thomas?" he asks. "You know, the guy who takes any chance he gets to get into fights with me? That Thomas?"
"Yes," Thomas says. "He does not hate you, mon ami."
"Is your English failing you again, Laf? I think you mean to say that he does, and I'm a dumbass for having hope that he might think of me more than just the dirt on his stupid fucking $300 shoes."
That makes his heart pause in surprise, and he asks, "What is it you mean?" His French accent is wavy, probably not as convincing as he could have made it, but Alex either doesn't notice or care.
"Don't act like you don't know, Laf," Alex says with a chuckle. "I know you try to tell me that he likes me, but I swear, we both see two different people. He scowls and glares at me whenever he sees me, and he always purposely does shit to annoy me. Not to mention the fact that he tried to set my hair on fire in Chemistry yesterday."
Snorting at the memory, he mutters, "That was an accident." Too late, he realizes what that sounds like, and after a confused glance from Alex, he quickly covers up his mistake, "Thomas had told me about that. He says that you had stumbled into his side the second he lit the match."
Alex sighs and rolls his eyes, not acknowledging his excuse as Washington steps into the room, gathering what he needs for his lesson. "If Thomas really does like me like you say he does, he has a shit way of showing it," Alex mumbles, turning back to face the front as Washington starts class.
---
Then, in the next class, Alex finds out.
Thomas had his perfect system going. He'd wear his sweatshirt, then take it off just in time to get to the next class. Then, this time, he was a fucking idiot and was in a hurry because this time he actually did forget his Chemistry textbook in his dorm, and he forgot to throw off his sweatshirt in time.
He treads into class, somehow managing to make it on time in the time he sprinted there, and he flops down in a seat next to Alex as he always does. He gives him his trademark grin, then flips to the page they left off on yesterday.
"What the fuck?" Alex asks. Thomas hums questioningly in reply, not really paying attention, until Alex points at his sweatshirt and says, "Laf was wearing that in Sociology."
He freezes. Shit. Thomas scrambles quickly for a reply, but his hastiness must be obvious even as he spits out, "We're twins, Hamilton. Is it such a crime to want to match outfits with them sometimes?"
"No," Alex mutters. "Not you guys. Those are the same pants, same shoes..." He looks past Thomas, staring at his bag, and hisses, "Same fucking backpack." He makes a move to grab for the bag, and Thomas isn't quick enough to stop him, because the second Alex pulls out his sweatshirt, he knows he's been caught.
A mix of emotions cross Alexander's face. "Oh, god," Alex mutters, stumbling out of his seat and making a move to stand. "Jesus. This whole time..."
"Alex, I--" Thomas starts, but Alex only shakes his head, grabbing his textbooks and racing off to the other seat. Lee glares pointedly at him as he moves away, but doesn't say anything.
God damn it, Thomas thinks, resisting the urge to slam his face on the table in frustration and guilt. He looks over at Alex throughout the class, wishing that he would just fucking look at him, but the man has his eyes stubbornly trained ahead of him. Then, when class ends, Alex grabs his stuff and races out of the room.
Lafayette isn't any help either when Thomas tells him about it. He only smacks him over the head, pulls out his phone and furiously texts Alex the entire class they have. Thomas makes sure to get the notes for both of them, and he thinks that almost breaking the bones in his wrists by writing so quickly will be worth it when Lafayette clasps a hand on his shoulder and tells him that Alex agreed to hear him out after classes at his dorm.
So, at around 6:00, Thomas walks across campus and knocks quietly on Alex's door.
The door flies open, and Thomas is greeted with the angry sight of his rival. "How the fuck could you do something like that?" Alex snaps immediately.
Thomas pushes his way in as Alex walks further into the room, his hands flying to his hair in his rage. "Alex, I'm sorry," Thomas tries.
"My god, I told you so much," Alex mutters, his cheeks coloring in humiliation. "God, I told you about you--"
"Alexander," Thomas interrupts, walking up to him and grabbing his wrists. He pulls them down to his sides, and continues when he realizes Alex is too shocked to speak anything else, "I meant what I told you. I don't hate you."
Alex is shaking, Thomas can feel the rattling of the veins under his grip. "Then why the fuck would you do this?" he grits out angrily.
"I just wanted to be able to have a conversation with you that doesn't involve shouting," Thomas mutters. "I'm sorry for doing this, I really am. I just... I don't know, Alex, you have to know that I really don't hate you."
"Then what the fuck was this whole rivalry about, then?" Alex snarls, getting into his face.
"You're the only person capable of debating me," Thomas says with a shrug, refusing to back down. If anything, he gets closer, to which Alexander begins to back up. "That never meant I wanted us to be enemies, though."
"You encouraged it," Alexander accuses, taking another step back while refusing to break eye contact.
"Yes," Thomas agrees, "because I thought you hated me."
"Christ," Alex spits as his back hits the wall, "I don't hate you! Was me admitting it to your fucking face not enough?"
"Then why do you always act like you do?" Thomas snaps, putting his hands on each side of Alexander's head as he stares him down.
"Because I don't know what else to do!" Alex hisses back.
"You fucking idiot," Thomas growls, lowering his head and pressing his lips firmly against Alexander's to shut him up. It doesn't take Alexander long to respond, moving against Thomas and bringing up his arms to wrap around his neck. Thomas lets his hands leave the side of the wall as he presses further against Alex, using his hands to cradle the back of his head and neck.
"That's another option," Thomas breathes as soon as they break apart to catch their breath. He lets his forehead fall to Alexander's, and he says a quiet, "I really am sorry for tricking you."
"Thomas."
"Yeah?"
"Talk less."
Thomas snorts at that, but silently agrees as he moves back to kiss Alexander. Alex presses back against him with no pause or hesitance this time.
The next day in class isn't as awkward as Thomas had expected it would be, and Chemistry isn't so bad. When Lafayette sees him walk into their class with a lazy grin on his face, he smiles and shares his excitement with him.
"Does this mean the end of pranks with him, then?" Lafayette asks.
Thomas chuckles darkly at that, and says simply, "Fuck no."