Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John had been enlightened when he'd first been made aware that he'd be going back to New York. Sure, South Carolina had been amazing, but.. he wanted a change of scenery. Why, you may ask? Well, let's just say.. South Carolina is a bit.. empty. Farmland goes on for miles, and miles. John was excited to see the city again.

As he walked down the streets of New York, taking in how the city has changed, (it really hasn't) he spotted a familiar face.

"Holy shit! Alexander, is that actually you?" John runs over to the medium-sized, black-haired dork he called his best friend. He nearly knocks him over, but Alexander manages to keep himself steady. "Dude, I missed you so much!" John eagerly kisses the tip of Alexander's nose, grinning from ear to ear.

"Gross! Please refrain from ruining my brand new clothes, Jack---" Alexander groans, but there's no real hostility in his voice. If anything, there's a slight twitch in his lips. Almost as if he's trying to hide a smile.

"Nuh-uh! No way, 'Lex. I haven't seen you in 5 years! I have to shower you with affection! It's the only way." Laurens grins teasingly, poking Alexander's cheek.

"Ugh, I hate you." Alexander groans again.

"No, you don't. You loooove me. You're just too much of a pussy to admit it." John smirks.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

After a few minutes of back-and-forth bickering, Alexander reluctantly sighs. "Fine. Maybe I do love you. Maybe."

John simply smirks, knowing he's won. But his expression softens, seeing a hint of vulnerability in Alexander's usually-stoic expression. "Yo, man. You al'ight? You look a bit.. melancholic."

Alexander snorts. "Dude. No one says that word anymore."

John huffs, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Are you alright, Alex? You look sad."

Alexander smiles. "That's better." He pauses. "--and.. yeah. I'm fine. Just.. remembering how lonely it was without you."

Laurens sighs. "Well, I'm here now. And let me treat you to a drink. Coffee sound good?"

"Coffee sounds great." Alexander replies, smiling. Internally, John is beaming with excitement. On the outside, he remains calm and composed. "Perfect. When shall we meet up?" He asks, doing a great job at maintaining his facade. Alexander shrugs, smiling palatably. "Wherever you want."

John internally groans. He hasn't been in New York for over 5 years. What if his go-to spot was gone?

Alexander, having seemingly realized this, clears his throat and speaks up again, holding out a hand. "I know a place. C'mon!"

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As soon as John stepped into the coffee shop, he knew he'd be comfortable here. There are bookshelves lined along the walls, and the main room gives a silent feeling of contentment to the customer.

Alexander steps up to the counter and an African man with a obnoxious afro groans as he stands in front of Alexander.

"Hello, Hamiltt." The man regards Alexander, glaring at him with hatred in his eyes.

"It's Hamilton, Thomas. Anyway, can I get a caramel frappe and a green apple frappe, please?" Alexander pulls out his credit card.

"Sure." Thomas mutters. "That'll be $8.79, please."

Alexander swipes his card, and pulls it out of the reader. He walks over to John, smirking. "See? I remembered your order."

John rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that you got a green apple frappe. Who puts apples in a coffee?"

Alexander snorts, flicking John on his shoulder. "Don't judge me. I'm more sleep deprived than a substitute teacher at an elementary school."

John raises an eyebrow at the comparison, but shrugs it off.

Another man, a short-haired (almost to the point of his head being completely shaved) with a nametag that reads, 'Aaron Burr' walks over to the two. "Your frappes, my dear habitué." Burr smiles, handing the two drinks to Alexander.

Alexander snorts. "Aaron, my dear friend, you don't have to speak so sophisticated."

Burr looks unamused. "True enough, Hamilton. But, alas, I don't feel like studying the slang this god-awful generation uses. As a historian, I prefer to speak as if I am living in the past, rather than the present."

Alexander grins. "Ha, ha, Burr. You? A historian? I'll believe it when I see it."

Burr pulls out a library card, one that reads, 'Manager of the Historical Artifacts Club at..' and the rest is scribbled unintelligibly.

Alexander opens his mouth to say something, but Burr beats him to it, turning to face John. "And who's this.. refined and handsome man you have with you, my dear Alexander?"

John almost breaks character, but manages to hold himself back from blushing.

"Ah. This is my dear boy, Jack. He's my confidant, my best friend. The one I look to when I am in need." Alexander smiles.

John interrupts his next few words by clearing his throat. "My name is John Laurens. I recently returned here after an endeavor in Siuth Carolina."

Burr hums. "Laurens? As in, Henry Laurens? The politician?"

John cringes internally, but nods stoicly. "Yes. Henry is my father."

Burr's eyes narrow in careful suspicion, but he nods nonetheless.

Alexander interrupts the tense atmosphere by turning away and grabbing Laurens' shoulder. He walks them both out of the coffee shop silently.

Chapter Text

John walks beside Hamilton, his eyebrows furrowed as they walk.

The air is tense, and he can practically see the gears turning in his head.

Suddenly, Alexander speaks up. "I hate Burr so much. He's so arrogant, so full of himself. He's like the sun to my moon, the comet to my meteor. It's as if the universe is trying to ruin my day every time I see him." There's anger in his voice, but with an underlying tone of something else.

John snorts. "I understand how you feel. After all, he thinks he's better than everyone because he had all A pluses in middle school."

Alexander smiles as he glances at Laurens. The air around them isn't as tense as it was before, now that the silence had been broken.

The two continue to walk, no destination in mind. The sky overhead is partly cloudy, full of stratus clouds. The sun shines down on them, casting a warm glow on John's skin.

John occasionally glances at Alexander, noticing that he's humming something. "Are you really humming Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance'?" He snickers.

Alexander falters, blushing. "No!"

John smirks, elbowing him in the ribs. "I didn't know you liked pop. I was under the impression that you enjoyed Kendrick Lamar."

Alexander sighs. This type of banter is normal for them: he gets caught doing something embarrassing, and John finds out and teases him about it.

Eventually, the two reach Alexander's house. He unlocks the door, holding it for Alexander. "Ladies first."

John rolls his eyes, walking into the living room. He kicks off his shoes, and reaches for the television remote.

But Alexander stops him. "I..have something to tell you." Alexander sits down on the couch, next to him.

Their shoulders brush against eachother, and Laurens hums, nodding in acknowledgment.

Alexander draws in a sharp breath, exhaling shakily. "I like someone."

John snickers. "Is it that girl.. Eliza?"

Alexander blushes. "She's my ex. I may still like her a bit, but I'm talking about someone else."

John huffs, rolling his eyes. "You're practically obsessed with her. I bet you have photos of her in your wallet."

Alexander swallows nervously. "I have photos of another person in my wallet. The person I like."

John raises an eyebrow, leaning in curiously. He smirks, placing his hand over Alexander's flirtatiously.

Alexander sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I like you."

John grins, leaning closer and planting a kiss on his lips firmly. He runs his hands through Alexander's hair, pushing him onto the couch, laying on top of him.

Alexander sputters as he's pushed onto the couch, but doesn't resist. If anything, he leans in, his back arching.

John hums, pulling away before leaning back in, even more passionately than before. His hands run down Alexander's sides, before resting on his chest. He pulls away again, smirking.

Alexander smirks lazily up at John. "Your lips taste like vanilla."

Laurens grins, and he leans in again, capturing Alexander's lips in a gentle kiss, flipping their position. His hands tangle in Alexander's hair once more, his back arching as they continue to kiss.

"Damn, dude.." Alexander mumbles between kisses, pushing John into the couch, his hands gripping his thighs.

John smirks into the kiss, letting Alexander do whatever.

Alexander pulls away, and starts to pepper kisses across John's face, particularly on his freckles.

John closes his eyes, letting out a small, breathy sigh.

"Best day ever," Alexander murmurs.

Chapter Text

Madison typed relentlessly on his laptop, biting his lip. This paper was due in a week, sure, but it had been stressing him out non-stop.

The subject of his article? Hamilton. Well.. not really. His real subject was 'How insomnia can Affect the average American.'

But no one had to know that majority of the paper was about Alexander. Not even his teacher would know. He had carefully planned ahead, listening to Hamilton's complaints about his schedule issues, and how he wanted to sleep more.

Madison personally thought he was a genius. But, he didn't let that get to his head. He wouldn't let himself be like Hamilton, the egocentric bastard.

As he typed, he glanced at the clock every now and then.

First, 10 PM. Then, 11:30 PM. Just as he was finishing up, he looked at the clock. It was 2 AM.

Madison closed his laptop, standing up from his desk. He wobbled slightly, his mind adjusting to the sudden movement.

He grabbed his sleeping pill bottle, taking one of the miniature pills.

Just as he did so, there was a knock on his door.

'This late at night?' Madison questioned internally, opening the door. His eyes widened momentarily.

In front of him stood the one, the only, Thomas Jefferson. His former best friend.

The two had been attatched at the hip as kids. The two would play video games together, study together, laugh together. That was, until Jefferson moved across the world. To France, of all places.

Jefferson smiled cockily, walking into the small apartment. "Holy cow, Jemmy. I know you're only 5'4", but this apartment seems a bit small, doesn't it?"

Madison scowled. That was the first thing Jefferson said after years?

Jefferson ignored his scowl, sitting on the edge of Madison's bed. "Seven years later, and you're still here, in good ol' New York."

"Whatever, Jefferson. Why are you here?" Madison demanded.

Jefferson smirked, completely ignoring the demand. "I named my bathroom after you, by the way. The biggest one, too."

Madison sputtered, blushing. "What the hell?"

Jefferson snickered. "--to answer your question, I'm here because I moved back. I wanted to talk to you. It's important."

Madison sighed heavily, the blush on his face disappearing. "Go on,"

Jefferson continued, calm and confident. "I had a realization. I'm gay, dude. The gayest of 'em all."

Madison hummed. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Jefferson pauses, contemplating something. "I dunno. Just felt like telling you."

Madison rolled his eyes, starting to talk about himself. "Well, good for you. I have a girlfriend now, by the way. Her name is Dolly. She's a delight."

Jefferson frowned. "A delight, eh? Her name makes her sound like she's such stuck-up rich girl."

Madison scowled. "She isn't, Thomas."

"Do you even love her?" Jefferson snorted.

Madison's eyes widened. "Well, of course!"

Jefferson leaned in, their shoulders touching. "Mhm.. 'cause to me, the way you look at me says that you're not exactly loyal.."

Madison blushed. "Thomas.."

Jefferson pulled away, laughing. "Consider that, Jemmy. I'll be at the coffee shop 'round the corner tomorrow. Come find me."

And with that, Jefferson leaves Madison alone in the apartment.