*13 i should have known i bet that's why this took so fucking long its the spirits theyve cursed me
Anyway here u will find a very choppy chapter involving a lot of not terribly important shit cause Im stalling to make the pacing of the overall fic work :) enjoy the randomness*
Alex POV
Alex didn't manage to cash John in on his offer of ice-cream for almost two weeks. This was unexpected- since they spent a lot of time together, trying to escape Laf and Hercules' vastly increased heart-eyes- but Alex was suddenly swamped with homework as the end of the semester approached. He spent many a sleepless, wordless night at the shop hunched over his computer, and John was present for most of them- Angelica for the rest. While Angie allowed him to work in silence, John insisted on him taking regular breaks- telling him that staying so immobile with his face two inches from his computer screen was awful for his back and for his eyes. He would lean over his shoulder and click save on his laptop, before slapping the thing shut and dragging him onto his feet by his elbows, yanking him over to the door and making him stretch out, or shake himself off, or jump up and down. To begin with, he grumbled and tried to pull away, back to his work, but after a few nights of this practice he began to fall into the routine of it- and found that his mind was clearer for them.
Sometimes, Burr was there with him- but not nearly as often as he had been. True to his promise to Angelica, he had started seeing a doctor (about what, they still didn't know) and properly regulating his sleep-schedule- though he still looked rather like a walking skeleton, and was found asleep in a store cupboard by James Madison at 4am one Thursday. He didn't speak much when Alexander saw him around school- never smiled, never frowned- but continued to send him his concise, printed notes after every class, which he was immenselygrateful for. Whenever he could, he would slip Aaron a smile or a muttered "It's good to see you, Mister Burr Sir." Herc had knitted him a thicker scarf and a matching pair of gloves after Lafayette told him the man looked frozen, and John was still putting extra shots in his coffee- he accepted it all grudgingly, but with a hesitant sort of gratitude. He… wasn't getting worse.
Lafayette and Hercules were, in a word, adorable. And in another, disgusting. They were the full package deal, soft kisses and 'I love you's every time they parted, sitting practically intertwined on any surface they came across, and Alex frequently looked up half way through a conversation with one of them to find that the other had appeared at their side and distracted them completely with a kiss to their forehead and a legitimately gooey stare. It was adorable, yes, but also infuriating. Maria and Eliza in particular were rather bemused by the whole situation.
"Honestly, I thought they were dating when I met them." Maria confessed to Alex one night, while he sat with her and Eliza on his crummy couch and picked popcorn absently out of her hair. "They were so obviously in love, you know? Now I realise that was them holding back…"
"I know." he agreed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them, but it's just ridiculous- I'm so glad you two weren't like that when you started going out." At that, Eliza laughed.
"Oh, we were." she assured him. "We just toned it down in public."
Alex would stare across the table at his two friends as they sat, intertwined, telling each other how beautiful they were, exchanging kisses over a shared milkshake, and wonder how on earth they could manage to be so mushy… But then he imagined what it would be like to be able to tell John how he felt about him, freely and easily, to be able to kiss him whenever he liked, to hold his hand and tell him he was beautiful- and to see his own feelings mirrored back at him… He decided that he would probably be even worse than his friends.
The next Sunday afternoon found the four of them- John, Alex, Lafayette, and Hercules, stretched out on their couch (John's current sleeping arrangements- the futon was being washed after an unforeseen accident involving Angelica's hair-straighteners, a beef casserole, and fifteen Star Wars action figures). They were coming into the final leg of Alexander's Disneycation- today's film being Toy Story 2. When it had finished, and Alex was studiously ignoring the fact that John had laid his head in his lap, the curls fanned out around his head and the lazy smile on his lips making him unfairly attractive, Hercules spoke suddenly through a mouthful of curry.
"When's Jefferson's party this year?" Immediately, Laf's face lit up, and John gave a loud, exaggerated groan, putting his hands over his face. Hercules nudged him with his foot. "C'mon, man- there'll be free booze…" John just groaned again, letting his hands drop this time and scowling at his friend.
"I'm not going." he said, defiantly. "Not again. That prick has caused me enough pain this year without you forcing me to stand around and drink expensive champagne that doesn't even get you drunk and pretend to make civil conversation with his rich asshole friends."
"Oh, come on, John." Lafayette protested. "It will be fun! If nothing else, we can laugh at his… you said- asshole friends, and I will bring a real drink that we can share- and besides, poor James needs some company- you know he hates those parties as much as you do." John was still pouting, and Alex looked from one friend to the other, more than a little lost.
"I'm sorry, but what are you all talking about?"
"Oh, that's right- you wouldn't know." Herc grinned at him and explained. "Jefferson throws a fancy-ass party for Thanksgiving every year- not on the actual date, just a bit before, usually- and invites literally everyone. I'm pretty sure Madison got us on the guest list originally so he doesn't go insane. A lot of rich pretentious assholes will be there- like John said- but Burr generally shows, and we all hang out in a corner and insult the guests from afar. It's a good time."
"Sounds cool." Alex said, and John looked up at him reproachfully.
"Not you, too." He shrugged.
"Hey, standing in a corner getting drunk at a pretentious get-together with you guys doesn't sound all that bad." Lafayette beamed at him.
"You see, John! Alexander sees sense- it will be fun for all of us. And I am sure that you could invite Eliza and Maria too, Alexander, they will be most welcome." At that, Alex grinned still more broadly.
"Great! When should I tell them, then?"
"It's the day before Thanksgiving- starts around 7 but everyone will be fashionably late, so tell them 7:30. It'd be great to see them there, actually- I bet Maria'd give old Tom a piece of her mind." Alex laughed at the nickname, and at John, who groaned longer than ever and sat up slightly, shifting backwards so that he was still basically in Alex's lap.
"You're all ganging up on me." he grumbled. "And this means I've got to buy a fucking suit."
"Just wear the suit you wore last year." Laf suggested. "It's not like there is a rule against that." John scowled.
"I ruined it. I was using it to stuff a cushion- spilt some shit on it, and I don't know where it even is n- "
"Never fear, my dear Laurens." Hercules said, grinning. "One of the perks of having a tailor as one of your best friends- I'm making all four of us our suits this year." Alex's eyes widened.
"You can do that?" Herc chuckled.
"Suits aren't that hard, man. I just need measurements and a colour and I'm good to go- I've got Laf and John's already, but I'll need to measure you, okay?"
The comment really shouldn't have produced the reaction it did, but Alex felt his stomach seize up and his ears flush- measure him? He imagined standing in a sort of doctors office, all florescent lights and clean smooth surfaces, blipping numbers on a screen showing him his weight, the width of his hips and waist, all the extra pounds he couldn't wish away and felt his insides churn. The image was gone in a second, but his discomfort must have shown on his face, because Herc, Laf and John were all staring at him in concern.
"Alex, y'alright, dude?" Herc asked. Alex swallowed- his throat was dry- and nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just zoned out for a second." They didn't look convinced- John frowned up at him, looking worried, and Laf cocked their head to one side, saying "Are you sure, mon petit lion? You look queasy."
"I'm fine." Alex repeated, a little too harshly, and they didn't press the matter.
It was the next evening when Herc brought it up again. John and Laf were in the kitchen, squabbling over what spices to put in the stew they were making, and Alex sat, texting Eliza about her last (disgustingly romantic) date with Maria, when the man sat down beside him looking a little cautious.
"Hey, Alex?" he said.
"Mmm?" Alex looked up from his phone, confusion growing at the sight of his nervousness.
"I- uh- yesterday, about… With the thing with the suits- I'm really sorry if I…" he scratched the back of his neck. "- if I made you uncomfortable, or... or overstepped, or- "
"Herc, it's fine." Alex cut him off. "I told you, there's no problem." Hercules was still frowning.
"I don't think that's true, Alex, and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable- so… Is it… Is it a body image thing?" Alex really, really didn't want to have this conversation.
"Yeah." he said, shortly. Herc looked still more uncomfortable, shifting where he sat.
"I get it, man, I mean- I've had body issues in the past., but you should know you've got nothing to worry about-"
"You're not helping." Alex snapped, then regretted it as his friend's expression morphed into one of guilt. He rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down. "I'm sorry. I just- I don't like talking about it, you know?" Herc nodded.
"I get it, dude, I swear- and I don't have to measure you if you don't want, I can do it by sight pretty easily." Alex shook his head.
"Just don't make me a suit, Herc, it's fine. I have one I can wear."
"Alex- "
"It's fine." He got to his feet quickly and went to help the others with dinner, leaving a troubled looking Hercules to his own devices. Later, he winced as he thought of the worry in his friend's eyes- but he didn't need Hercules' pity. How he felt about his body was none of his concern.
John POV
The next Thursday was bright and cold, the sky a pale grey that made his breath fog in front of him, and John made his way down to the Grind-Stone with a smile on his lips, listening to the way the frosted leaved crunched underfoot. He'd been sketching Alexander, cute little doodles of him in a chunky hoodie and John's own turtle pyjama trousers- hey, he'd lookedadorable in them- and just thinking about it was enough to make him grin. He was a little late, but he was taking over from Madison that day, and knew he wouldn't mind too much, so took a nicer route along the river- lined with trees and sparkling in the icy sun- and watched the geese that glided along it. When he did reach the coffee shop, pink-cheeked and shivering slightly, he found Alexander, slumped over, asleep, in front of his computer. James Madison was standing behind him and tapping his shoulder gently, and looked hopelessly up at John as he entered.
"Help me wake him, John, he's going to kill his neck." Shaking his head with a small chuckle, John made his way over, dropping his bag on the counter, and put a hand on Alex's back. He shook him slightly, a little harder than James had been doing, and Alex gave a muffled sort of whine that made his heart speed up.
"Alex…" he murmured. "Alex, you need to wake up." Alexander whined again, rubbing his face further into the table. With a sigh, John took both of his shoulders and gently pulled him upright. "Alex, wake up, you're going to hurt yourself." Alex groaned, screwing his eyes closed more tightly as he was pulled into consciousness. Madison shook his head looking Alex over.
"John, take him home, ok?" he said. "He needs to sleep, and he really shouldn't do it here." John frowned.
"But what about- "
"I'll cover your shift." James waved his words away dismissively. "I've got nothing to do anyway, it's fine."
"Really? I mean, I- "
"John. Make sure he rests?" Sighing, John nodded, and closed Alex's computer, putting it carefully back into his bag.
"Alright. Alex? Alex, we need to go home so you can sleep." Alex frowned, rubbing his eyes.
"M'not tired." he muttered.
"Alex, you're literally nodding off. Come on, my place isn't far." He guided the man to his feet, smiling despite himself when he leaned into his chest and put his arms around his waist, using him for support. "Alright. Can you get your bag, or do you need me to carry it?" Alex just made a noncommittal snuffling sound against his chest, so John shouldered both of their bags- with some difficulty because of Alex's position, and gave a half-wave to Madison as he walked him out of the door.
"Thanks again, James- I'll pay you back, I promise."
"No need, Laurens, I don't mind. Have fun." With the last words, he winked and held up his hands in the shape of a heart, apparently encasing him and Alex in it, and John groaned and flipped him off, praying that Alex hadn't noticed. Madison laughed, and started clearing the coffee cups away from Alex's place.
He got Alex home without much of a hitch- he seemed to wake up a little during the walk, but was mostly silent, speaking only to complain about the cold. As they passed the ice-cream parlour on the corner, however, Alex made to walk inside. John stopped him with the arms around his shoulders, frowning, amused.
"Woah, where are you going?" Alex pouted up at him- god, his eyes were dark- chin against his chest.
"Said you'd take me…" he said, over a yawn. John rolled his eyes, running a hand through Alex's hair without really thinking.
"I did, but not when you're literally sleep-walking." When he only stuck his bottom lip out further, John chuckled. "Okay, tell you what- if you come home and sleep now, we'll come back here and have some ice-cream as soon as you wake up. That sound good?" Alex seemed to consider for a second, his heavy-lidded eyes drifting over John's face.
"You promise?" he mumbled
"Yes, I promise." Apparently satisfied, Alex tucked his face back into the crook of John's neck and let him steer them onwards, closing his eyes. He got more than a few funny looks as people watched him all but carry the near-unconscious man through the streets, but with Alex's warm weight against him, his breath tickling the back of his neck as it stirred his curls, John found he didn't have it in him to care.
When they reached the apartment, Alexander practically fell through the door and collapsed heavily onto John's bed- and John stifled his fond chuckle as he reluctantly pulled him upright.
"Come on." he said. "If you're going to sleep, you're going to do it properly- you'll feel awful if you wake up in jeans." Feeling oddly reminiscent of their first night out, John grabbed his pyjamas from a drawer while Alex grumbled and pulled off his hoodie, and then his shirt (John resolutely kept his eyes on the expensive slippers positioned next to Jefferson's bed). He handed him the clothes and turned his back, knowing he wasn't going to be able to resist staring, but was caught off-guard a couple of minutes later when a muffled "John…" came from behind him. He turned, and stifled a laugh as he saw that Alex had managed to become hopelessly tangled in the pyjama shirt- with one arm through the head-hole and the whole thing twisted in the centre, trapping his head inside. He couldn't see Alexander's face at all.
"You need some help?" he asked. Alex's disgruntled whine was answer enough. Feeling his heart beat a little faster as he approached- come on, John, what are you- twelve?- he took the hem of the shirt between his fingers and pulled it off, thanking the stars that Alex was probably too out of it to notice the way his breath hitched when he removed the fabric. He untangled it as quickly as he could, and pulled it over Alex's head, helping him out when his arm got stuck. He'd already got the trousers on, so crawled into John's bed a second later, pulling the duvet over himself and wriggling around adorably, trying to get comfy. John sighed, ran a hand through Alexander's hair again, and sat down at his desk, pulling out the sketches he'd started earlier. Wanting to ink them in, he rummaged for a liner for a minute or two (he really needed to organize his art supplies) before Alex's voice distracted him.
"John." he moaned quietly "I'm cold."
"You're always cold, Alex." John muttered, getting up and grabbing Alexander's hoodie from the floor. "Arms out." Alex pushed himself upright and held his arms up, letting John guide the sweater over his head and scrunching back down as soon as it was on.
"Thanks." he mumbled.
"I'm going to get some blankets." John told him. "You know that won't be enough for you, mister human popsicle." Alexander's giggle was muffled in John's pillow.
"M'kay." John gritted his teeth against the entirely goofy grin that threatened to burst across his face- really? Just from looking at him?- and grabbed a few thick blankets from the cupboard in the hall. Once back, he spread them over Alex, now half asleep, on top of the duvet and watched as he mumbled happily and snuggled down under the blankets.
He sat back down at his desk, and had managed to almost entirely finish one of the small pictures when Alex's voice roused him again.
"John?" he murmured, not opening his eyes.
"Yes, Alex?"
"Will you sing?" The question caught John off-guard. Sure- he sang all the time, with Laf and Herc as well as by himself, and he knew he could carry a tune- but no one had ever asked him to sing before, much less in a situation like this. He laughed, a little giddily. Alexander Hamilton wanted him to sing him a lullaby. In all his life, he could never have predicted something like that.
"Please?" Alex's voice almost made him jump- he'd been lost in thought- and he hastened to clear his throat and nod, forgetting for a second that Alex couldn't see him.
"Y- Yeah." he managed. "Yeah, of course."
Why had every song he'd ever heard suddenly flown out of his head- and what did you sing when the most incredible person you knew asked for a lullaby? After a minute of frantic thinking, he grasped the threads of an old melody from his childhood. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it, but the memory made his chest warm in a way that he could only associate with his mother. She must have sung it to him, then, he thought- and swallowed down the sudden lump that built in his throat at the thought. He fought to keep his breathing steady- this was for Alex. When he started, his voice was a little unstable, but he found the tune quickly and felt his heart melt at the look of contentment that spread over Alexander's face as he sang. Slowly, he lowered himself back into his chair and pulled the drawing back into his lap, letting the words flow out more easily as he reached the second verse.
"The forests of April awaken from sleep and flowers unfold through the snow… and the wind rushes high, and the river runs deep, and it sings what you already know… You already know…"
Alex had started to snore, and John smiled to himself as he turned his attention to the paper in front of him. He felt warm. As he drew, he continued to sing, letting the lilting chorus slip from his throat and willing his cheeks not to heat up at the words- this was for Alex. And he meant every word.
"Evermore I will love you," he sang, "Evermore I will stay, ever right here to hold you, never so far away- and though I know sometimes you go to find your way alone, Evermore I will love you, you are ever my own."
He stayed like that for most of the day, sketching or reading at his desk and watching Alexander's sleeping form, almost entirely hidden from sight, with his heart in his throat.
As the afternoon wore on, he looked up from his gulp of cold tea when he heard movement from the bed- Alex was waking up.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." John smiled, watching as the dozy-looking man emerged from the blanket pile, his hair obscuring a lot of his face, his eyelids drooping. Alexander rubbed his eyes with one knuckle, yawning into his sweater, and peered blearily over at him.
"What time is it?" he mumbled- the words slurred together in his drowsy state. It was gettingvery difficult for John not to throw his arms around him and bury his face in his hair- it looked so soft- but he managed to resist, forcing out a "4 o'clock." Alex shut his eyes again, giving a short "Hmm" that could have meant anything, and flopped back down. John smiled and went back to his drawing. Evidently, it was going to be a while before his friend actually woke up.
With the new position, he could see Alex's form pretty well, so flipped to a new page and started to sketch. He formed the shapes gently, filling the space with soft, rounded curves, translating the curled form in front of him onto the paper with a comfortable ease. It was about an hour (and three sketches at different angles) later that Alex grunted and opened his eyes again. He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking blearily up at John where he sat, and yawned hugely.
"What time is it?" he asked, again.
"Almost 5." John told him. Alex screwed up his eyes, blinked a few times, hard, and then shook his head sharply, apparently trying to wake himself up. "You sleep well?" Nodding, Alexander yawned again, stretching his arms up to the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, smiling over at John, he looked properly awake for the first time. Then, he frowned, as if trying to remember something.
"Were you singing?" he asked softly, looking across at him with curious eyes. John felt his cheeks flush a little.
"Uh- yeah, you… you asked me to." It was Alex's turn to blush, and his eyes widened in something akin to horror.
"I did?" he croaked. "I… shit, I'm sorry, that must have seemed really-"
"Alex, it's fine, I didn't mind." John assured him. And then, before he could stop himself- "It was cute." Alex's face turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. John felt a flush creeping further up his own neck too as he realized what he'd said, and ducked his head to his drawing, the adorable form of the sleeping Alexander that he was met with hardly helping matters. There was an uncomfortable pause as Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed and John desperately tried to force the blood away from his ears- but Alexander broke it, of course.
"I do believe I was promised an ice-cream trip…" he said lightly, grinning toothily at John as he looked up at him. Glad of the distraction, John mock-groaned.
"I was hoping you'd forget about that." he muttered. Alexander stuck out his bottom lip and folded his arms, pouting. Alexander's pout was going to John in deep trouble one day, he decided.
Hell- it wasn't like he was complaining.
*Thanks for reading! Next chap will probs be the Burr child doin some shit and Jefferson's fancy lame-ass party so that should be fun*
