Take a Break
"If you repeat yourself again, I'm gonna scream."
Hamilton was at a standstill— if arguing with Jefferson wasn't enough of a headache for one meeting, arguing with Lee simultaneously was pure torture. Alexander's three hours of sleep converted into adrenaline, and he pointed a finger at Lee with such rigor that the council president nearly backed away. "If I hear you argue one more time that there is no necessity for funding for groups that aren't big-name sports and that we shouldn't direct more money to those departments—"
"Mr. Hamilton, civility," Washington looked pained, looking upon the chaos that was his treasurer, secretary, and president debating full-force at what was intended to be a civil, productive meeting.
"Yeah. Civility would be nice, Hamilton, if you'd take into consideration when to stop talking." Jefferson leaned forwards, raising his eyebrows and feigning calmness. "When does your noble little pursuit end? How about funding for this program? What does student council get, Robin Hood?"
"This program gets funding, we have access to all the funding. It's the big groups that are in desperate need of help." Lee slammed a fist down on the podium he stood at.
Hamilton cracked his hand down on the desk in equal force to Lee. "They need nothing! I'll bet you don't even know most of the clubs at this school! Wake up, Lee, get your head out of your—"
"Enough, enough!" Washington stood up, and all three turned to face him. "You've all accomplished nothing. You only aggravate each other. You're all dismissed." He aimed a wave at everyone in the room, signaling full early dismissal.
John picked up his bag, sighing. Alexander was the most hotheaded person he knew, and, even from several rows of tables away, John could practically see smoke coming out of Alex's ears. He pushed his chair in and made his way to the front of the room, accidentally bumping shoulders with Lee on the way.
"Watch it," Lee snapped, "I have places to be."
Laurens raised an eyebrow in surprise at the back of the president's head as he walked away. What a nuisance this kid was. John shook his head and kept walking, reaching Alexander.
"Are you alright, Alex?"
Hamilton glared at both Lee's and Jefferson's retreating forms, aggressively shoving his notebook and pens into his bag. "No. They're both completely impossible to work with. Did you hear them? I can't even grasp how they can possibly think like that. How is that even possible?"
This might prove to be more difficult than John thought. "They were both spouting the most ridiculous nonsense," he said, taking Alexander's arm. "But..."
"But nothing. I need to talk to Washington..." Alex hesitated, the fire in his eyes meeting John, cooling down a little to simple warmth. The flames quickly returned. "I need to get this sorted out..."
"I'll meet you outside the classroom, okay?" John offered, letting go of Alex's arm and going to exit the room.
"Yeah," Hamilton smiled a ghost of a smile before marching up to Washington. The man did not look pleased to see Alex standing above his desk, looking like he was going to be speaking for a while.
"Alex, listen," Washington began, closing his eyes. "Compromises are part of the job description. You—"
"Sir, they're incompetent. They don't understand the issues at hand, they don't have a real plan, they just hate mine! This is the job of the treasurer—"
"Hamilton, we work together. That's the point. If you can't respect that, I imagine we'll have to call for your removal."
Hamilton's jaw dropped. Him? Removed from office? "But, sir, I... What about Lee? Jefferson?"
"I'm not removing you now." Washington stood up, pulling his coat on. "We all need to work on diplomacy, it seems."
Alex sighed, anger slipping through the cracks of his breath. "Yes, sir."
"Thank you." Washington gathered his belongings, leaving Alexander standing before his desk, alone. He was the final straggler.
Rage coursed through his whole body. He needed to work on diplomacy? Managing the funds was his job. Not Thomas Jefferson's. Not Charles Lee's. Alexander Hamilton's. He had worked so hard, traveled so far, done so goddamn much to rise up to this position, and he was being robbed blind. No— he refused to submit to blindness. He was being robbed right before his very eyes by a hypocritical asshole and an inexperienced joke of a president. How could he stand for this? How could his pride take this much of a beating? Alexander had raised the stakes, all right; he'd raised them so high that his enemies were now driving them through his chest. He balled up his fists, pacing the front of the room. Squeezed his eyes shut.
Washington's podium received a kick to the front, the noise resounding through the room.
It came again and again and again; a series of hard, low thumps.
"Alex!" Suddenly, someone was by his side, holding him still, talking into his ear. "Jesus, Alex, are you alright? Washington left and you were still in here, and then I started hearing an honest-to-god rampage..."
It was John. John was holding him steady. Alex closed his eyes, his arms going limp. "I have to work harder."
"What?" John pulled Alex closer, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.
"I have to work harder," Alexander repeated, more firmly. "I have to write a plan they can't refuse. If Lee can't find a way to say no to it, and if Jefferson can't find a way to denounce it, my plan has to go through. I just need to tweak it. Fast. I need to work..."
John pulled back to stare at his boyfriend. Was the person who hadn't slept enough in days really suggesting he work himself harder? "Alex, that's insane."
"I have to do it." Something in Hamilton's expression sparked a thought in John's mind. That determined set in Alex's jaw, that look in his eyes... He never learned to take his time. He never learned to stop. He wanted results, always results, and always as fast as they could come. Waiting was a foreign concept to him.
Eventually, Hamilton would wear down. His resilience was admirable— but he shouldn't have to suffer for the sake of it.
"You can do it later, listen to me," John looked at Alex as sternly as he could. "You need a break first."
Alex sighed. "I can't. I have to write a plan up before this entire student council falls apart and—"
"Take a break." John leaned forward and kissed Alex on the cheek, and Hamilton sighed— against his will. If John weren't so cute...
"I can't stop, John, I've got a job to get done..." He was losing the battle; John was pulling him closer and Alex's muscles felt looser by the second.
"Run away with me for the afternoon," John grinned, pressing a kiss to Alexander's forehead.
He gave up.
"Fine, you win, you win." Alex allowed himself a small smile in response to John's hug of celebration. "Laurens, if you weren't so goddamn adorable, I'd be able to resist you."
John smirked, an oddly-matched expression to his spreading blush. "Guilty as charged."
"Where do you suggest we go?" Hamilton retrieved his backpack, stuffing any remaining papers in and pulling it on.
"Well..." John smiled, slinging one arm across Alexander's shoulders. "I don't know about you, but I think it's a nice day for hot chocolate."
"Ooh... I agree."
"So that'd mean we're going to my place," John said. The pair began walking towards the door. "And I'm not bringing you home till you've had a decent break."
"Alright, alright," Alex smiled. "I'm at your mercy."
John's face split into a grin again. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"Did you have lunch today?" John slid one of the two mugs he'd been laboring over to Alexander.
"No, I was working. Big essay for history. But I ate it every other day this week." Alex gingerly took a sip from it, feeling the warmth and the taste of the hot chocolate flood through him. Something about the cup before him, the atmosphere of John's kitchen, and, of course, John himself in all his freckled glory lifted Alexander's spirits, making his grin return in full. Certainly Alex wanted to be working on his financial plan for club funding, but that would have required saying no to John Laurens (a deed much easier said than done) and an extreme level of restraint, both of which were, at the moment, unachievable goals for Hamilton. And, if Alex dared to admit it, he was enjoying the momentary sensation of taking a break. But it wasn't exactly the feeling of taking a break, per se; there was something else there that Alex couldn't define, almost like a dream he couldn't quite place. But there was something there that felt shockingly comforting and endlessly right to Hamilton.
Laurens sighed, looking at his boyfriend. "Are you sure? Alex, you haven't been getting enough sleep, or enough to eat." John took a gulp of his hot chocolate, leaning on the counter.
"I don't need much sleep, you shouldn't worry," Alex answered, a dismissive response. "I'm fine."
"What about eating? You've got to stop skipping your meals to work," John's voice lost a grain of forcefulness. "I'm worried about you."
"Don't worry. I'm doing fine. When I need extra time, there it is waiting, and the thing is, eating can wait, but work has deadlines," Alex took another drink of his hot chocolate.
"Here," John crossed the room to the refrigerator, getting an apple out of the fruit compartment inside. He then retrieved a small, sharp knife and a plate, returning to Alexander with the three items. He began to cut the apple into slices. "Will you eat this, for me?"
"John, you don't have to cut that for me, I'm alright." Alex shifted in his seat, finishing his hot chocolate in one gulp. "You should have some, too. Sit down, you've been up the whole time I've been here."
The ghost of a smirk crossed John's face. "Shh. Don't think I don't look at you enough to notice you're losing weight." He continued to cut the apple, dropping each completed slice on the plate. Once he had finished, he slid to plate to Alex, smiling at him.
Surely he didn't imagine the look of hunger that crossed Alex's eyes upon looking at the apple; that was real. John grinned as Alex took the first bite, eating as if he'd forgotten he was hungry until this very moment. Which, as Laurens considered it, was probably true.
"What did you say, John? Something about, hmm..." Alex purposely teased between bites, pretending to search for the words, "'Looking at me'..."
John grinned, the blush behind his freckles returning again. "Eat your apple and I'll tell you. Wait"— John sped over to the toaster— "I'll make you toast, too. We have grape jelly."
Alexander smirked and obediently continued eating his apple as John popped a piece of bread into the toaster and got grape jelly out of the refrigerator. It wasn't long before the apple had been devoured. "So?"
"Do you know how much you slept last night, baby?" John hummed, reaching in another cabinet to get a bigger plate for the toast.
"Three hours," Alex answered, nonchalance lacing his voice. John spun around. Alex was puzzled by the look on John's face, which teetered somewhere in the middle of frustration, surprise, and determination.
"Jesus Christ," John took a drink of his hot chocolate. "Okay, I'll add resting to the agenda. Big time. How do you even..."
"I was busy, John. There was no way I could just put my paper away; it was eight pages as it was and I needed to finish. If I didn't get in a page of afterthought and reflection, then—"
"Spare me the details," John interrupted, taking the toast out of the toaster after it'd popped and placing it on a plate, proceeding to spread grape jelly on it. Alexander's mouth watered, although in his mind he tried to deny this. "Here. I can make more after this if you want me to," Laurens said, handing the toast to Alex. Both boys smiled, and Alexander did as he was told, eating his toast in three bites. The grape jelly was sweet and the bread warm, but he made no efforts to savor the toast, finishing before John could even turn around from putting their hot chocolate mugs and the plate from the apple in the sink.
"Well," John laughed, reaching for a napkin. "That's out of the way. Do you want more, Alex?" He leaned over, wiping a spot of jelly off Hamilton's cheek.
"No, no, I've really got to get working..." Alex began to stand up, but he didn't get very far before John had come around, slipping his arms around Hamilton, his freckles shining with his even smile in such a way that Laurens was absolutely irresistible.
As always.
"What you really need is to lie down and rest," John said, raising his eyebrows. "Come on, Alex, you've gotta admit you're tired." John leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Alex's neck, right below his jaw.
"John..." Alexander was nearly whining, but his grin was returning. "If you're trying to seduce me..."
"Then it's working," Laurens finished, his voice singsonging in Alex's ear. "I only think you should close your eyes for a little while."
"Agh... John..... But if I can't draft my plan..." Why was John Laurens the one person Alex couldn't win against? No matter how hard he fought, he always lost the battle against the voice of temptation John had set into action within him.
"Please? Let's just go sit down. You barely slept, Alexander... please?" John held Alex closer still, slowly edging closer to the hallway that would lead to the living room.
Alex let out a sigh, smiling nonetheless, and allowed John to take his hand and lead the way.
He concluded then that there were much, much worse things he could do than accept an invitation to sit down and take a break with John. The feeling of John's hand in his even led him to thank and revel in his inability to say no to this.
When the pair had reached the room, it took a bit of coaxing on John's part to ease Alex onto the large sofa. It seemed every time he saw a new part of the Laurens household, he became a new form of overwhelmed, and it always took a moment for him to adjust to the environment. The living room was no different.
"Here, you can sit down," John gestured to the couch, turning to face the television and hit the power button. "Hang on a sec..."
The TV lit up, and John grabbed the remote and turned back around, finding, to his surprise (but not confusion), that Alexander had still not seated himself, and was standing rather self-consciously before it. "This couch is huge. Do you even comprehend how big and fancy everything in your house is?" Alex sounded awed in an uncomfortable way.
"Absolutely enormous, I know," John walked over to pull Alex into his arms, briefly burying his nose in Hamilton's hair. "Sit down with me, Alexander." Gently, John eased Alex down to the couch into a lounging position.
The effect of physical relaxation was almost immediately evident in Alexander, every muscle in his body losing its tenseness as he sank slightly into the cushions. Fatigue took over at an alarming rate and the transformation was almost automatic. Vaguely, he reached for John, his arms finding him right beside Alex. His eyes felt dry, his eyelids heavier than they'd felt in over a week.
"John..." Alex wrapped himself around Laurens, leaning into his shoulder. John smiled, and Alex didn't care if he'd won, he didn't care if he'd been right about how downright exhausted Alexander had been. The only thing that mattered then was John. Alex hooked one leg around John's calf, wrapping an arm around his waist and sighing into his shoulder. His other hand came to lie on John's chest, where Alexander gently moved it back and forth across the smooth surface of John's shirt. Just the feeling of Laurens on his hand was soothing. A soft heartbeat drummed below, and Alex's hand slowly found it, resting over its source and relaxing. Alexander registered John's light kisses to the top of his head, his arm around Alex, and the way his entire body leaned in towards Hamilton, fitting like a worn puzzle piece— not perfect, but whole.
"Hey, John?" Drowsiness compelled him to act on his spontaneous curiosity.
"Mmhm?" Laurens hummed in response, still pressing kisses to Alex's hairline.
"When did you first figure out you're gay?"
John closed his eyes. "Well... The story's kinda long, but..."
"I'm patient," Alex said softly. Laurens stifled a laugh— this statement itself was a joke. But perhaps in this context...
"I didn't really understand it until a few years ago," John began quietly, absentmindedly running his fingers through Alex's hair. His siblings were upstairs. His father wouldn't be home for a long time. It would be a private conversation. "I'd liked boys, growing up. Even when I was little. But I figured, you know, it was just a friend thing. I just wanted to be friends with them 'cause they're handsome or friends with them 'cause I always wanted to spend time alone with them." Alexander let out a soft laugh, and John's mouth turned up into a half-smile. He continued. "So I was like, waiting for a girl to come along, all the time. I thought I'd stop thinking about the boys in my classes if I could find the right girl." John paused. "My parents would always talk about how I'd get a girlfriend someday. I'm their oldest, it made sense; so they always just thought I was too into my studies or whatever to think about girls. That's what they told their friends, and I guess that's what I told myself, too." He grinned, shaking his head slightly. "Man, I was some brand of stupid... How many times do you have to picture kissing other guys to figure out you're into other guys?"
Alex laughed a little hum of a laugh. "So what happened?"
"So I was always waiting for the right girl. About two years ago, I was fourteen, and my father took our family to a party with his friends from work and all around, and I was just hanging out. They had some nice cake there, and a lot of tables. And my parents were talking to this couple, and they had this girl about my age with them. I looked over and I smiled at her, but it wasn't anything special. And she was pretty."
"Hmm," Alex smiled into John's chest.
"My father introduced us. I guess looking back, it was pretty obvious he was trying to set us up," John laughed, "But I let it happen. Something about the party, just the atmosphere... It made me think how important it was that he was gonna be proud of me. I had this job to do, keep up my parents' pride. So the two of us went to this sitting room farther away."
"What was her name?"
"Martha Manning. We talked for a little while, and she was nice. She said she wanted to be a dancer when she got older, and we talked about school and our lives and stuff. And then she kissed me."
"Oh." Alex slid his hips a little closer to John.
John sighed. "I'd known what gay meant before then. But I'd never considered it; it was just this vague thing in the world that had nothing to do with me. But then Martha kissed me. And, you know, it wasn't bad or anything, it just felt wrong. Like it was the complete opposite of how a kiss should have felt, and there was this weird friendliness about it..." John hesitated a moment, bringing his nose down to touch the top of Alex's head gently. "So we both pulled away, and that's when she asked me if I was gay. I hadn't thought about it before, because I was always in this odd denial, but when she asked, I just..."
"You knew."
"Yeah. So I said yes." John took a deep breath. "And I was like, oh my god, I'm actually gonna do this. I'm actually realizing. It was surreal. I remembered where we were, and there wasn't much I could say. My father, he was always talking about girls and getting me one... My mother never mentioned anything related to anything besides straight relationships on that matter... And so I made Martha promise not to tell anyone. 'Cause what would that do?"
Alexander was silent for a moment after John had finished before he spoke. "Did she?"
"No," John replied. "We're still friends. So... That's how I figured it out."
Alex waited a moment. What John had said about pride had struck a nerve somewhere within him, causing waves of some strange feeling to flow through him. Alexander had constant pressure to maintain a family legacy, too, but this fire burned endlessly within him since his parents' removal from his life. John felt the pressure from all sides but his own; Alex felt it from none but his own. It had been clear before, but never as evident as John's anecdote had just made it. Alex decided to take a chance. "What was your mother like?"
"My mother," John repeated, his eyes fluttering shut. His mother... "She looked a little like me. She was mellow, but she was passionate... She always liked the paintings I'd make for her. On weekends, she'd bake muffins with my sister and me. And she was patient, but she spoke her mind when it mattered. Most of the time... It's so weird," John smiled, a reminiscent bitterness riding on his words. "I feel like she's still around. I should be saying is, not was, but..."
"I miss mine, too, John," Alex whispered. Slowly, he reached his arm back to pull something out of his back pocket.
His wallet.
Alexander flipped through his leather wallet, and when he reached into one of the pockets, a small, worn photograph fell out onto John's stomach. Alex picked it up carefully, holding it so both he and John could see. "This is— was my mom." Something in Alex's throat caught.
"Oh..." John reached to touch the picture. "May I...?"
"Yes."
He held it, gently, and Alex sat up a little, still leaning against Laurens. John looked at the photograph intently, seeming to scope out every detail. A moment later, he turned to Alex, looking for a long minute at Alexander's face in full.
"I see the resemblance," John said quietly. He leaned down just a little, tilting his head to press a kiss to Hamilton's nose. "You have her nose."
Alex closed his eyes, and he felt John's lips just above his eyelids. "And your eyes, they're the same shape as hers." He felt John's arms move tighter around him, and Alex filled with a warmth he fought to process.
"Your cheekbones..." John kissed the light hollow behind each of Alex's cheekbones, accentuated by lack of sleep. "And your chin." He kissed there, too.
"Oh..."
John pulled him closer so that Alex was completely wrapped in his embrace. Alex's hands rested on John's hips, his eyes still closed; the muscles in his face eased up with each kiss. John's lips were right by Alexander's ear. "I'm sure right now she's as proud of you as I am."
This one whispered sentence from John Laurens seemed to fit everything into place for Alex. "John..." Alex wrapped his arms around John, nearly overcome by the scent and feeling and warmth of him. "You're..."
Once again, Alex was almost at a loss for words. The feeling that had been growing within him all afternoon was finally finding its way into the realm of definition, tying itself to three words: safety, comfort, and belonging. It occurred to Alex that John made him feel safe. Protected. He was the most at ease in John's arms than he'd felt since— well. Since his mother's death. When Alexander was with John, he felt like he wasn't so alone in the world. He felt like he no longer had to fend for himself with no aid and nothing to break his fall. Additionally, there was nowhere on earth Alex felt more comfortable than in John's arms. It felt so unspeakably good to have someone to take care of him again, to the extent that John did. Being with Laurens was the one factor that could make Alex sleep or eat or control his frustration or think properly. And, this admittedly made Alex angry— he had, after all, tried so hard to keep himself independent in every way. John should not have taken advantage of his sensibility to steal into his affections without his consent. It was unwarranted, this sudden defenselessness that had washed over Alex, but something about the wholeness John had instilled into him made it all tolerable. It made it all right.
This went without saying that Alex felt like he truly belonged when he was with John. He felt like the right place was always by his side, and anywhere else was simply wrong in some way.
"I'm...?" Laurens whispered, gently kissing right below Alexander's ear.
"You're the most wonderful person I've ever met and I think I depend on you and I don't think anyone's ever made me happier and you're the world to me and I wish you weren't but you are and I'm so, so glad you are." Alexander leaned upwards through his exhaustion, pressing his lips to John's before even taking a breath.
It took a long time for the pair to break apart.
"Alexander," John's eyes were still closed and Alex reached up to run his thumb along a stretch of prominent freckles on John's cheek. "I'm glad, too." He smiled a little at the feeling. "Now shh... You should close your eyes and rest."
Alex smiled, settling once again into John's arms, resting his head on his chest, and feeling his mind and his heart flood with warmth and pure belonging.
It had been so long since Alexander had felt truly loved.