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Donald Trump x Hamilton enemies to lovers
Alexander Hamilton was not having a good day. After his wife chased him away because he couldn’t say no (was it really his fault?) he fell into some random pit in the ground and ended up God knows where. He was in some strange world… it seemed like his country for sure, but more free. More happy. More advanced. He walked up to some random man on the street.
“Excuse me Sir, but would you happen to know the date?” he asked.
“September 13th,” the man answered.
“The year too,” Hamilton asked sheepishly.
“Uhh, okay,” the man replied confused. “2024.”
2024?! IT WAS ACTUALLY 2024?! HE WAS OUT HERE LIVING IN THE 1770’s, AND SUDDENLY HE WAS IN 2024?!
“Umm… thank you, good Sir.” Hamilton was in a daze. How was he supposed to find his way around? This place was giant and overwhelming. All over the place were colorful things. Was their world not black and white?? People had weird clothing and even weirder talking ways. And even worse, people were staring at him like he was the odd one out. How was he supposed to explain that he was the actual timeline or whatnot.
All around were also giant posters and signs about an ‘election.’ It reminded him of how Washington was President. They must be electing a president then. The signs were covered with an orange guy. Hamilton did not know orange people existed. I must broaden my thoughts of the world now, he thought to himself while walking down the streets of this place.
Was he to only walk aimlessly and hope for some random pit to take him home?
Right on cue, he fell.
A large pair of arms reached out to grab him, catching him completely off-guard. He was completely expecting to fall face-first into the cement and suffer an embarrassing fate. Hamilton was not expecting such kindness. He looked up to face the man who had so kindly caught him.
Oh. It was the orange man and a bunch of people in black suits.
He immediately pushed out of his hands. Something about him felt radioactive.
“Uh, thank you I guess,” Hamilton replied with courtesy. However, the orange did not seem to like his attitude.
“The name is Trump,” he replied. “Donald Trump. Your future president. So respect me like one.”
Hamilton definitely did not like that attitude. “Excuse me? You’re not MY president.” he replied angrily. How could this guy immediately assume himself as his president?
“Buddy I’m literally gonna be elected as president, what the fuck are you gonna do about that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Hamilton stuttered for a second, his chocolate orbs widening with shock.
“I’m not even from here, so you couldn’t possibly be my president,” Hamilton finally replied. His eyes LOCKED with Donald Trump with tension as the two stared each other down. Donald raised an eyebrow and smirked at the other.
“Well, you’re here now, so I could definitely be your president~” Trump said, holding Hamilton’s jaw.
Hamilton’s face lit up red as he pushed himself away. “H-huh??” Hamilton had to say no to this. He has to say no to this… right? There wasn’t any way he could say yes to such an absurd man. But he felt weirdly captivated by this orange, round man… he didn’t say no before, is he going to say no now?
“Well, I’ll be at that cafe over there, making America great again if you want to join,” Trump smirked. “I can show you what a president can really do~” And with that, Donald Trump walked off, waving at Hamilton as his security followed quickly behind. Hamilton stayed rooted to the spot, completely stunned at the events that had taken place.
Was he to go to the cafe and help him ‘Make America Great Again,’ or was he to find a way back home? A way back home to an upset wife, a mocking community, and a really mean Aaron Burr and Thomas Jefferson? He didn’t know what to say no to.