Note: This is based on the fictional versions of these characters more than the realistic. I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical or it's characters. All that I own is the story idea and the story itself.

Warnings: drunkness, gayness, mention of future smut

Alex started to lean forward, and John couldn't move. He was frozen.

Time seemed to stop. What was Alexander doing?

Next thing they both knew, Alex simply collapsed into John's arms.

As he was holding the man in his arms, John smacked himself for getting his hopes up. What did he think Hamilton was going to do? He was drunk anyway. He wasn't in his right mind. Still, a boy can dream. And John dreamed lots.

"Come on, buddy. Let's get you in the shower." John said, getting the younger man back on his feet. "You're drunk."

"And you're sexy." Alexander Hamilton mumbled. John Laurens simply pretended not to hear.

"If you don't get in the show, I'll make you."

"Please do."

"Alex, that's enough."

"What are you gonna do, daddy? Punish me?"

John let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Alexander Hamilton, you smell like booze and vomit. Get in the damn shower."

"Fine," Alex slurred. "But only if you join me."

Laurens rubbed the bridge of his nose and forefinger. This wasn't funny. Did Hamilton somehow know that Laurens had a crush on him, and was now teasing John about it? Was he just that drunk?

Or maybe...

Just maybe...

No, there was no way Alex actually felt that way.

But you know what they say. The stuff a person does when they're drunk has crossed their mind at least once when they were sober.

Still, there was absolutely no way.

Was there?

John immediately shook the thought out of his brain. He couldn't afford to get his hopes up. He couldn't afford to be hurt again, even though he had suffered like this for years now. With tears threatening to escape his eyes and a crack sneaking into his voice, John finally spoke. "Alex, please. Just...just get in the shower. I'll wait here."

Even though he was drunk, Alex could see that John was hurt, though he had no idea why. So he began stumbling towards the bathroom. He kept tripping over his own feet, John catching him every time. Well, almost every time.

Okay, there was no way Alexander could stand in the shower without slipping, falling, and possibly breaking his head open. Once again, John let out a sigh before walking over to Alex. He used his arm and shoulder to help the younger boy along. "Fine, I'll go in with you. But only because I don't want you to die." The smirk and the silence from Alexander after that sentence worried John. Why was he torturing himself like this? Oh well, he was so sure everything would be fine. If John sat right outside, kept his head turned and eyes closed, everything would be fine.

At least that's what he thought.

Once the men had arrived at the shower, John sat down right outside the door and kept his back turned so Alexander could get undressed. Although, after a few minutes of silence, Laurens heard a quiet voice come from behind him.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't get my pants off."

John froze. Was this another joke? Was Hamilton doing this on purpose? "W-well keep trying, buddy chum pal."

There was a loud groan. "I can't." Alex said, drawing out the 'a'.

"Dude, come on. What are you, 2?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Can you just come help me?"

"Fine." John reluctantly agreed. Yes, this was going to negatively affect his emotions, but if he knew anything about Alex it's that he almost never gives up about pretty much anything. It's even worse when he's 'buzzed'. John got up from where he was sitting and stepped into the door. Sure enough, Hamilton was standing there drunkenly trying to unbutton his pants. Laurens couldn't help but laugh, causing Alexander to look over with furrowed eyebrows.

"What are you laughing at? Come help me." Alex sort of mumbled.

John was perplexed. On one hand, he would feel like he was taking advantage of Alex since he was extremely drunk and most likely wouldn't remember anything that happened when he woke up. On the other hand, he is just helping out his best friend. What was the big deal?

"Here, I got you." John finally said as he got closer to Alex. He awkwardly reached over to start unbuttoning the pants of his closest friend. Platonically, of course. After he did though, he looked into Alexander's eyes and found himself lost in them. He couldn't look away. Once again, John was frozen. He had never been this close to Alex, and certainly never this...intimate. Alex started to lean forward again, so John, of course, got ready to catch him. But this time was different. This time, Alexander carefully placed his hands on the younger man shoulders. 'What the hell was he doing?' John thought. Before he knew it, however, he found Alex's lips on his own.

Wait, no. This wasn't right.

Alexander Hamilton was kissing John Laurens. There was no way this was real.

And yet, Laurens didn't want it to stop. He found himself with his arms wrapped around Alex (who was shorter than he was, so Alex had to stand on his tiptoes to hoist himself up).

Alex was drunk. It wouldn't be right to take advantage of him like this. He probably doesn't actually feel that way towards you. He probably won't remember it in the morning. No matter how much John told himself these things, he couldn't stop. Alex was like a drug. John just took his first hit, and now he was addicted.

The pair staid standing there for a few minutes longer, just getting lost in each other, before Alex broke away from the kiss and spoke up.

"I think my boxers are stuck too."

John's eyes widened, with (mostly) fear). "I-I'm sorry, what?"

"I said I think my boxers are stuck too."