Hamilson and Washingdad one-shots

Soccer

 Alexander jumped out of his small gray car. The night air hit him like a rush, cold air against his black jacket. His bag bumped along and Alexander took strides towards the front of the building. His crocs passed over the old cracked pavement as he got to the door. The moon twinkled its goodbye and Alexander walked inside, the sliding doors closing behind him.

A rush of warm sticky air met him. And then the smell hit, the indoor soccer fields were made of green rubber grass and bullets of black rubber, giving the whole area a sweaty rubber smell. It was large with three fields, a snack bar, a workout gym in the corner, and an extra turf corner to kick around in.

Fields 2 and 3 were being used, teens kicking the ball off the wall with pounding thumps. It looked like a hockey rink, with stained white walls and clear plexiglass that went up around ten feet. From then on tall nets reached to the ceiling to prevent the soccer balls (I'm using soccer because they're American and that's what they use instead of football) from flying out of bounds.

"YO ALEXANDER!" Yelled out a man. Alex looked up and saw his friend John waving from inside of Field 1. The man's puffy hair was pulled up but a few stray stands fell onto his face. Beside him were Hercules and Laf who stood around stretching.

"Hey," Alexander said, making his way over to the goal net. The net was a cut out of the wall, thick black netting kept the ball from hitting him.

"Your late Hamilton!" Jefferson called, not even looking over his shoulder as he kicked his soccer ball against the wall in rhythmic pounds.

"Oh piss off!" Alexander yelled out as he turned left and followed the wall of the field. On the left side were two bleachers and an area to exit in and out. It offered the only open area into the field and it's where the team stood.

Burr looked up from his spot on the bleachers and gave Alexander a small nod. "Nice to see you."

"Yeah, do you know who was playing?"

Burr rolled his eyes, "You're telling me you didn't look at the schedule?" Alexander shook his head, making Burr sigh, "We're playing the Brits."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah," Burr said with a heavy sigh, "I don't think we're gonna win this one." Burr set his foot down, his purple cleats pounding on the metal bench.

Alexander sighed, looking over at the men gathering a few feet away. They wore red jerseys with a crown crest over their heart. Their numbers and last name were displayed proudly on their backs.

"Brits." Huffed Alexander as he set his bag down and took off his hoodie. His bright blue shirt glowed under the dull yellowed lights.

"Hamilton." greeted their coach walking up. Washington stood there, his black T-shirt on and a ball cap over his hair.

"Hello sir." Alexander greeted the man as he grabbed his green cleats and laced them up. "How do you think today's gonna go?"

Washington glanced over at theme Brits, "Not well. You're gonna have to play a lot today."

"Who's gonna be here?"

"You, Laurens, Burr, Herc, Laf, Peggy, Jefferson, Angelica and Eliza. Mulligan is sick so he won't be here."

Alexander nodded wordlessly and looked over at the Brits. He recognized a few people. Their Coach George, Marie, Lee and Seabury. They were the best of the league and had dominated the league for years. A few members of Alexander's team had once been on the Brits but had left after some harsh rules and training.

And so it was the Revolutionary versus the Brits .

Their Ref was good though, a short haired woman nicknamed 'Bullet' for her fast kicks (Which broke some guy's leg, his name was something like Napoleon or something but he's not important).