The next morning he left for the studio early, hoping Laurens had too. Even though he had only known that face for a day, Hamilton missed him so terribly. He wanted to spend every moment he was given around Laurens. He cursed the fact that he had a law lecture at 2PM, cutting his time with Laurens by almost two and a half hours. Rather than try to suppress how much that pained him, he used it as motivation and pushed his already burning calves as he urged himself to peddle even harder. He weaved in and out of New York City traffic the same way he'd done for most of his life. He knew these streets so well that he was sure his veins must have been mapped out the same, this city was so embedded into him.

Laurens wasn't there when he arrived, so he again pulled out his phone and searched for the email Jefferson had sent him the night before, which included contact information for his coworker. He grimaced, remembering their relationship. Coworkers. That was such a compromising position. Jefferson was a snake for this. He bet that he knew how well they'd get along. He bet that Jefferson was sitting back, smug with the knowledge that Laurens would completely shake his world, and maybe even turn him into nothing more than an obedient pup. ...Hamilton had the tendency to overthink certain things. Once he had Laurens' number, he stood there, staring at his phone, completely confused as to what he was to do next. His initial intention was to text him but would that be intrusive? Nah.

Hamilton: Hey Laurens it's me, Hamilton. I thought I'd reach out to let you know I got to the studio early.

Hamilton: If you can you can come down and we can get started on some work?

Hamilton: Is this weird?

It was weird. Why was he texting him? Why was he second-guessing every single thing he was doing?

Hamilton sat, for once not pulling his notebook or laptop out straight away. Instead, he stared at his phone screen, watching the little blue text bubbles he had sent, his words were all so wrong. Where had his charisma gone? His intellect? Continuing to beat himself up over three text messages he'd sent to his coworker, Hamilton didn't hear the door to the main building open. When Laurens breezed through the studio door, he jumped.

John Laurens smiled down at him, a stupid grin on his face as he smiled through a bush of those amazing brown curls. "Your hair," he blurred.

"Morning," Laurens laughed. Hamilton had not been expecting the feeling in his chest that he'd felt yesterday to be back so quickly. But there it was, swarming like a cloud of butterflies or angry bees, it was such a loud feeling, if feelings could be such. "Ya I thought I'd leave it down today." He shrugged. It took every piece of strength Hamilton had not to imagine himself holding Laurens' face while they kissed, his messy, soft hair getting in the way and neither of them caring. No, he totally was not imagining that.

"It looks great."

"Thanks. I got your texts? Not weird, by the way." Without waiting for a reply, Laurens pulled another chair towards him, turned it around and straddled it with the spine in front of him. He crossed his arms, placing them atop the chair's spine. Then then looked up at Hamilton and gave him a smile. Half of Hamilton was screaming 'why is he sitting down across from me as if we're about to have a lengthy chat? This man is the epitome of time-wasting'. However, the stronger side was yelling back twice as loud 'Alexander, this is exactly what time is supposed to be wasted on.' Laurens dropped his chin into his crossed arms, still appraising Hamilton. There was no way they were going to survive the next few weeks. At least Hamilton wouldn't, anyway. This man was too attractive, too alluring without even knowing. There was no way in the world his heart could take not speaking out on how it felt. He had too many words he was trying to keep contained inside of him. And Laurens wasn't even speaking at that moment, just stupidly grinning at him. What did that even mean, anyway?

"Quit that," Hamilton snapped, colder than he actually meant. There was no change in Laurens' face, but he still felt bad. How many times would he snap at this man? He had nothing against him anymore, only the hold he had, ever-tightening, on his heart.

"Quit what?" Laurens feigned innocence, still smirking without relent.

"Looking at me like that." John Laurens' only response was a raised eyebrow. "You know exactly what you're doing."

There was a slight pause and the room was so quiet that Hamilton could hear the printers' mechanical thuds next door. Louder than them came the racing pulse of his heart, thumping against his rib cage with unstoppable force. It would never be satisfied until it had broken free and was running wild from his mouth, spurting words into the air between himself and Laurens.

"Hamilton, I really have no idea." He laughed, but it was more of a nervous chuckle that the one which stirred a storm up in Hamilton's chest. This did the contrary, this worried eyes and that disjointed chuckle quietened it, and he listened, curious. "That's why I keep fucking up dates and man..I don't even know. I'm normally so confident you know? I just really have no idea what I'm doing. And you're fine as hell. But? I'm not a flirt. It's one of those things that I just can't get. You're seriously cute. Wait ..you do like me right I'm not just mistaking vibes?" Hamilton's breathing ceased for second as he tried to come to terms with this new information. Okay so Laurens had just verified that their feelings were mutual. He felt like he was back at school, finding out his crush liked him too all over again. He felt like a child, or maybe a more appropriate description would be a flounder. He felt like he was way out of his depth. No other man, or anyone, had ever impacting him in this way before. He couldn't even fully comprehend the entirety of what he was feeling. This would come to be a normal circumstance he faced when with John.

"Laurens I like you a lot." So it was out there. Laurens allowed his eyes to catch Hamilton's again. They were smiling, so full of happiness that he couldn't help to return it with a smile of his own. This is how it would be. Hamilton didn't mind. Maybe they weren't going to get much work done, but this little, hardly significant task, wouldn't be at a great loss. He was sure that the end product would still be great. Maybe he should be thanking Jefferson for this whole state of affairs.

"Great," Laurens finally replied. "Hamilton, do you want to go for coffee? It's still early...I promise I won't waste your time."

"Laurens, I'm betting that time wasted on you isn't even truly wasted at all."