Laurens picked up his brother's car from his home in the middle of Brooklyn before they embarked on their way upstate. Hamilton stood by the door, feeling awkward while his boyfriend made casual conversation, never mentioning him. He introduced himself before he left, not extensively, just a handshake and an exchange of names. This made Laurens blush and apologise, but Hamilton didn't care, nor did he blame him. Laurens' relationship with his brother didn't seem to be the strongest, and he let it slide as being something that didn't seem immediately important to Laurens in that moment.

The journey up to Laurens' parents' house seemed to go on forever, not that Hamilton cared a great deal. He was by Laurens' side, holding his hand and fiddling with his fingers even when he changed gears. The traffic out of Brooklyn was dense and slow-moving, but once they got onto the highway, the brightly coloured fall trees made it all worthwhile. The scenery was truly beautiful and Hamilton couldn't help but feel completely content. With his free hand, he typed out some of the law coursework he'd fallen behind on, into Word on his phone. This flimsy method bothered him, but he knew that his words were always of quality and besides, he could edit any mistakes later before submitting. In between writing essays and investigating the patterns their fingers made when intertwined, Hamilton also wrote a number of verses inspired by both the beauty of the surrounding landscape and the man sitting next to him. Maybe he would send them to Jefferson..but he'd rather not.

"I'm thinking of quitting after Jefferson publishes. And after I finish narrating your work. Just leaving Jefferson, finding someone else who's willing to publish."

Laurens nodded, but much of his focus was on the road ahead.

"Why do you put up with him? He seems to despise you for no apparent reason..."

"Hamilton, I'm just happy to have a job," Laurens sighed. "It's hard business, you know? Even if you've had some recognition. Times are tough, man." He shrugged. "And I really don't want my parents to think of me as a total failure if I quit and go broke..."

"You're too fearful, Laurens."

"Maybe you're just too brave, Alexander," he replied, but his words were soft and quiet. Hamilton rubbed his thumb over Laurens' knuckles.

"Maybe you're right." He brought Laurens' hand up to his lips and placed a few gentle kisses on his soft skin, to articulate the gentle sorry he felt was necessary. Why was he so quick to speak? Even if what he said were variants of the truth.

They were almost there when Hamilton started to speak again. His brain never seemed to shut up and he used that as an internal excuse to himself for constantly talking when there was comfortable silence. "Hey. Babe. Tell me about your parents."

"...Okay, Well..." Laurens squeezed Hamilton's hand, and smiled to himself. "They're the best. They care so much. When I was starting out, they didn't agree with me choosing photography as a profession but they were supportive in other ways and that gave me so much confidence.. I don't want to let them down, they believe in me now.. You know, they're going to love you and...I hope I can tell them about us sometime... I want to share that part of me..." Hamilton nodded in understanding and allowed them the silence to seep back in. This time he let it be.

Hamilton hadn't even noticed that they'd turned off the main road, he was so absorbed in his work. It was only when he noticed that Laurens' hand had tensed ever so slightly, beneath his, and then the sound of gravel under the tires, then he looked up. They were driving along a tight lane, towering trees on either side, Hamilton could already see the house at the end. Anxiety swelled up into a knot in his stomach and his breathing came out slightly shakier.

"You okay?" Laurens asked, but his voice seemed, itself, small.

"Just...nervous."

"Hey.." Laurens waited until he pulled up at the end of the drive, to reach over and take both of Hamilton's hands. "Don't be. It'll be fine." Hamilton had to consciously not lean over to kiss him, knowing that they were right outside one of the windows to his parent's house. But Laurens' eyes looked so blue, his hair was falling in his eyes and over his reassuring smile, he had to actually bite the skin of his bottom lip to restrain himself.

"You look so fucking handsome, exquisite even," he let himself murmur.

Laurens winked. "Try to contain yourself, ya?"

"This should be fun."

It wasn't. At all. He couldn't take his eyes off Laurens as he talked. First impressions probably went down okay, he thought. They'd laughed when he cracked some stupid joke he'd internally cringed over. They treated him with respect but didn't engage him in much of the conversation. It was only when Laurens left to go to the bathroom that he finally found himself thrown in the deep end with them.

"So, Alexander..." Laurens' father looked strikingly similar to his son, but without those blue eyes that that he loved so much. He donned the freckles, and his shortly cropped hair gave a hint of the mad curls Laurens had inherited. It was his mom's warm eyes that mirrored his remarkably blue ones, and Hamilton was instantly drawn to her humanity and warmth. "Tell me," his father, Henry, continued, "What do you do? Are you studying? Laurens hasn't really spoken of you before, its my guess that Jefferson is keeping you on your toes?"

Hamilton didn't want to sound boastful, but he did want to be honest. Fuck it. "Yes, he does. I'm actually studying Law, I'm in my first year of a Bachelors Degree. Coupled with a Masters in English Literature and Jefferson's asks, I am very much kept on my toes," he tried a chuckle at the end, then regretted how stuck up it came off as.

"Wow!" His mom, introduced to him as Eleanor, was the first to reply. "That's a lot, Alexander! Your parents must be so proud!"

Smiling politely, his response came out as calm and collected as he had hoped it to, "I'd like to think they would be...I'm an orphan. They pasted when I was quite young."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay...it's been a long time." He still felt a tug on his heart as he mentioned them, especially seeing how close Laurens was to his family. He felt that ever-looming since of a missing piece of his life, it was just left gaping open.

"You should try to instil some of your worth ethic into our Laurens! We've been telling him he should get a proper degree for years." Laurens' Dad finally spoke up.

"He works well," Hamilton replied stiffly, just jaw starting to tense. "He's really talented, your Laurens. I feel quite honoured to work with someone who's travelled so much and worked for such big names..." Trying not to be passive aggressive, Hamilton cleared his throat.

"Past tense," Henry growled beneath his breath.

Inside his head, Hamilton scoured topics he could change the subject to, but thankfully, Laurens returned to save him.

"What are you guys talking about?" He awkwardly asked, shooting Hamilton an apologetic look.

"You!" His father chirped.

"And how great Hamilton is doing, academically!" Eleanor added.

Great. Great. They would probably hang off his college credits for the rest of the evening.

They did.*

Laurens showed Hamilton around the estate, just as the sun was about to set, and he couldn't help but be completely taken back by the captivating beauty of his surroundings.

"I really never knew New York to be this breathtaking." He admitted.

Laurens smiled over at him. They walked along the pebbled shore of the lake, out of sight of the house and any prying eyes. His hand fell to his side, and grabbed Hamilton's. "It is. I prefer the city though. The slow life up here is all good and fine but... I'd rather be where all the fun is."

Hamilton nodded in agreement. Then paused, his step faltering as he reminisced on the day gone by. "Do you think they know? That we're dating?"

"No." Laurens' reply was firm. "You play straight well when you want to."

"Fuck you," Hamilton laughed, and stopped in his tracks. He grabbed Laurens waist and drew them closer. "That was almost impossible, you know. You must stop being so attractive during the most inconvenient of times."

"Noted." Hamilton received an exasperated, over-dramatic eye-roll, and couldn't keep himself from kissing John Laurens. He had missed those lips.

There was so much beauty in that evening, strolling around the beautiful woodland, Laurens' hand in his. They stopped periodically to sit and talk and just enjoy the other's company. For once, Hamilton didn't care that he hadn't written all of the words his brain contained. He'd found a whole other form of euphoria in watching Laurens talk so casually and with such grace, and in being with him, alone, not surrounded by even the millions of bodies the city contained. They were completely alone out there. Love was such a blissful thing, and he was only starting to experience it now. He couldn't believe his luck.

Finally.