A/N: wow, this is going to be my first multi-chapter story! I wanted to write something other than Hamilton but a guest left such a nice comment on my last one-shot "Tomorrow there'll be more of us" that it inspired me to write a longer fanfic about John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton. Guest, if you're out there, I am so grateful for your comment, I honestly cried at it! So this is dedicated to my mystery guest! ONWARDS INTO BATTLE!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hamilton. If I did then I would make a movie already. (Not that I blame Lin for not making one yet, I just really would love to see it with the original cast, even on DVD.)
"Listen, Hamilton, you want my advice?" Burr asked the younger man, who eagerly nodded, delighted to finally be talking with someone who had a mindset which seemed to resemble his own.
"Talk less, smile more. That way you can get ahead without showing your enemies how they can manipulate you."
Immediately Hamilton's face crumpled, at first disheartened that this blatantly intelligent man was so reserved in pursuing his goals, and then irritated that he was wasting his time talking to someone who was happy to just stand around watching life pass him by.
"With respect, are you serious, sir?" He queried.
"Deadly," Burr replied. His face showed no trace of doubt in his beliefs.
Hamilton grimaced and began walking away, remarking as he did so, "If you stand for nothing, Burr, what will you fall for?"
Burr gave a half hearted smile. He could understand why the other man scorned his approach, but he still didn't appreciate the obvious disdain Hamilton had for him.
His expression quickly changed to one of irritation when, from a few metres away, a shout of "That's what I've been telling him! But does he listen?"
Hamilton whipped around to see three men lounging around a low table in the bar. One was in his mid-20's, wearing a uniform which Hamilton recognized to be French. His dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and a trace of facial hair accentuated his elegant features. Another was heavy-set, and clearly the oldest of the group, with cropped hair covered with a hat and wearing a suit which looked to be professionally tailored. The third man, the one who had spoken, was about the same age as Hamilton, and wore a wide grin spread across his face. Most of his hair was tied back, but a few dark brunette curls escaped the confines of the hair tie and framed his face delicately. His eyes seemed to glow with triumph, passion and, when he turned his attention to Hamilton, the kind of studious interest which caused his heart to quicken.
"It doesn't look like it," Hamilton replied, barely missing a beat as he analysed the group which had taken an interest in him.
"Well, you seem like the kind of man who doesn't sit around like Mr Burr," the oldest man commented, as the other two raised a glass in unison towards Burr as they called out, "Sir!"
Hamilton chuckled at Burr's scowl, and the friendly sound prompted the Frenchman to lift his feet from where they lay on a stool and ask the newcomer, "join us for a drink?"
Hamilton sat and watched the trio examine him. Again his heart seemed to race faster inside his chest.
The moment of scrutiny was soon ended, however, when the oldest man asked, "well, what's your name?"
"Alexander Hamilton," he replied, as the men all nodded.
"John Laurens," the youngest man introduced himself, taking one of Hamilton's hands in his as he shook it enthusiastically, a warm, sunny smile dancing about his face and seeming to light him up from within.
"Hercules Mulligan," the oldest man introduced, replacing Laurens' hand with his own, adding, "tailor by trade... and an occasional spy."
"Right," Hamilton chuckled.
"Et je m'appelle Lafayette," the Frenchman added.
"So what's your deal, Alexander?" Laurens asked.
Hamilton pondered for a second, quickly forming an outline to his speech from the words which floated in his mind.
"First, I have to graduate college - I was talking to Burr because I want to do it in two years, like him. But my main priority is fighting to free America from Britain and it's tyrannical greed. It's completely ridiculous that a man half way across the world has complete control of this country, and it has to end. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to release us from king George's grasp, and I don't care who's toes I have to step on to get ahead. Hell, I'd gladly give my own life to aid the cause - I know it would be worth it if it allows this country to become the kind of place it could be under fair leadership and with a strong economy."
When he finished talking, the men were watching him with unreadable expressions. Alexander began to shuffle uncomfortably, fearing he might already have scared off the first people who were as passionate as he was.
But then Laurens started grinning again, and reached to shake Hamilton's hand once more as he explained, "us too. And I think your way with words is just what we need to make a difference."
Hamilton smiled with relief, and quickly Lafayette and Mulligan joined in with Laurens' praise and both offered to buy him a drink. To Hamilton, who had always been alone, the approval of the three men felt like a warm blanket which wrapped around him protectively.
"You know what," Hamilton answered, "we might be here a while, so this round's on me."
He had to laugh as the three men cheered at his declaration.
The evening full of good alcohol and better conversation seemed to fly by, and Alexander relished every second: for the first time in his life he felt like he belonged somewhere, like he was a part of something, that for the first time since his mother died, someone actually gave a damn about what he thought. And he was really starting to enjoy the feeling of Laurens' eyes burning into him every so often with that brilliant glow of curiosity and, as they got to know each other, a flicker of affection.
As the alcohol began to lay a fog over his brain, Hamilton started finding it harder to focus on Mulligan and Lafayette, who had become more quiet as they became increasingly drunk, and instead found himself gazing at Laurens, unable to look away from the curls which looked so soft or the freckles which were scattered on his cheeks like tiny constellations.
Laurens turned to face Alexander again, and caught the other man staring. Embarrassed, Hamilton looked away, but Laurens just laughed as his new friend blushed. He placed a light hand on Hamilton's shoulder and leaned in to murmur, "These two are pretty much out of it... we should go sit at the bar and leave them in peace."
Hamilton tore his gaze away from Laurens to look at the other men, and noticed that both were barely keeping their tired eyes open. Silently, he nodded and allowed Laurens to steer him over to the bar.
Looking around, he noticed that the place had emptied, and the only person other than the four revolutionaries was a single barman who stood at the other end of the room with his back to them.
"What's the time?" Hamilton asked.
"Almost 1," Laurens replied, checking his pocket watch.
"Crap, classes start tomorrow," Hamilton muttered, the crease in his brow making Laurens smile. Hamilton was quickly growing to love that smile, it was loose and warm and genuine, which seemed to sum up Laurens' personality as a whole.
"Worried about the hangover?"
"Aren't you, after drinking so much?"
"Nope," Laurens explained, "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's holding my drink. Those two," he gestured to Lafayette and Mulligan, "are bound to wake up with a splitting headache, while I always remember exactly what took place the night before. Which means," he continued, with a hint of mischief creeping into his voice, "anything you or I do or say from here on in will stay between us two." Alexander thought he saw John wink, but he couldn't be certain - his vision was slightly blurred around the edges.
Unsure, Hamilton nodded, quiet for a moment. After a while he commented, "Out of all the injustices in the world, what made you so passionate about ending slavery?"
Laurens looked away pensively, his eyes suddenly taken over by a serious determination Hamilton hadn't yet seen. "It's just so wrong, Alexander. I grew up around it and yet I could never for one heartbeat comprehend what gave my father the right to steal these people, these humans just like you and I, and exploit them like animals. I know that we deserve to live in a world of equality for everyone, regardless of race, or gender, or... anything else," he glanced back towards Hamilton as he said "anything else" with a smirk which seemed so confident, as if he knew something Alex didn't.
Maybe it was spurred on by the determination in Laurens' eyes, or the way he spoke with such conviction the same words which drifted through his own head, or that suggestive smirk, or just a combination of all of those things with the alcohol, but for some reason Hamilton couldn't name or understand he found himself suddenly drawn towards the other man. Or more specifically, his lips. Captivated and at least half drunk, as if some hidden force was compelling him, Alexander closed his weary eyes and found himself tentatively leaning forwards ever so slowly... a thrill of energy sparked through him when he brought his mouth to touch John Laurens', capturing the smirk and enveloping it in his own lips as he lost himself in the unexpected pleasure of kissing the young man.