Chapter Text
For nearly the first time in his life, Alexander Hamilton realizes what’s happening a moment too late.
John Laurens has a hand rested, feather-light, on Alex’s waist as their lips touch.
The unexpected, sudden kiss is everything Alex could imagine about kissing the other boy and more- it’s sweet, and soft, with no underhanded intents. Passionate, yes, but on an emotional level, rather than a physical level, conveying the things they’ve been too afraid to say. In short, it’s like nothing Alexander has ever once experienced, and maybe that’s why, for the second time that night, the world falls away from him. The only thing that could ever matter was that Laurens stayed at his side.
And then it shatters.
John pulls away fast, face contorted into a pained, mortified expression that makes Alex’s stomach twist. “Shit, shit, shit, sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-” He dashes off in the direction of the dressing room- their dressing room- and he’s still wearing that amazing colonial outfit that fits him so perfectly, makes him seem like a warrior rather than the teenager he looks (John Laurens is a warrior, though; Alex has learned that much). Alexander glances around- nobody’s noticed the scene, except for maybe Peggy, who’s staring him right in the face and mouthing something. He doesn’t need a cue for this, though: he knows exactly what he has to do.
Racing after Laurens, Alex stumbles down the stairs from and twists sideways into the B hallway, before slamming open the door, perhaps louder than he should, to Room 21. “John!” he gasps, out of breath. The other boys spins around, face full of guilt and immeasurable pain.
“Alexander, I-” John’s voice is miserable, and his head droops. Pain lances through Alex at his expression- he wants to fix this so much it’s an actual physical agony. He wants to make sure Laurens never feels this way ever again. He wants the kiss to happen again.
“We should talk,” Alexander whispers, and for once, he doesn’t really want to; he’s not proud of it, but he wants to just kiss John again, answer the question that way. But he’s still not sure if the other boy would be okay with that, and besides, Alex still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t like going into situations blind.
John’s face drops. “I- of course. We should.” He flops down on the dilapidated couch, closely followed by Alex, who clams up (that’s a first- he’d normally be the one initiating a conversation like this). “So, I suppose you probably don’t want to come near me again.” Alexander, heart flipping over, opens his mouth to speak, but Laurens just holds up a hand and continues. “I understand. I just… I’ve felt this way about you all summer, basically since I met you. I know what I did was a serious violation of yourself, and you most certainly don’t reciprocate, so I’m going to back off, and-”
Alexander can’t take this anymore. “Laurens,” he cuts in, staring the other boy right in the eye. “I love you.”
John doesn’t speak for a while.
“You what?” He finally asks, and it comes out sharper than he probably meant, Alex hopes.
Alex takes a deep breath. “I am in love… with you. I most certainly do reciprocate.” Laurens lets out a breathy, relieved laugh, and drops his head into his hands.
“Oh my God.”
“Neither of us noticed, either,” Alexander speculates, a tiny smile spreading on his face. “Looks like I need to step up my game.” It’s a weak joke, a weary joke, Alex knows, but John chuckles a little anyway, and lifts his head.
His voice is hesitant and a little awkward when he speaks once more. “Can I kiss you again?”
“Hell yes,” Alex responds, probably far too eagerly, but he can’t bring himself to care, because John’s arms are wrapped around his waist, and their lips are pressed together again. It’s like waking up again, a sweet, innocent, hesitant kiss, and Alexander vaguely notices that they fit together perfectly like this.
When they break apart, Laurens speaks again, and it’s even more broken up. “I… What now? I mean, I know you, and you’re definitely not ace, and I know you value… you know... that…”
“Wait, what?” Alex interjects, but John is already pressing on, turning his face away from him.
“... So when you find another, and you will, so don’t lie, please just tell me. I’ll… try… to move on.” The tears are back in his eyes, though he’s trying to hide his face from Alexander.
Alex curls his fingers around the other boy’s larger hand, which is trembling.“No- Laurens. John. Look me in the eyes. Please.” John looks back at him, his face shaking like he’s trying not to let it fall apart. “You of all people know that sex doesn’t equal love at all. I swear, John, there is no other. Hopefully it’s not a surprise when I say that I like you a lot, but that’s a hell of an understatement. I’m trying so much not to be cheesy right now, but it’s hard.”
“Alexander…” Laurens’s voice is weak, and the name is forced out, like it hurts him so much to say it, and that’s when Alexander knows exactly how damaged John is.
In his eyes, Alex can see nearly two decades of pain all mixed up, clear as day, years on end of invalidation and abuse and fear of unacceptance, rejection.
“I love you. More than I’ve loved anyone else, I swear it. I don’t make promises, John, because they are so easily broken, but for you, I am willing to take the chance. Every time. And that… That is a promise.”
John reaches out and hugs him, and only then does Alexander feel the other boy’s tears dripping down his neck. Laurens is the strongest person he’s ever known, an anchor in the most perilous of waters, a calm in the middle of the worst storms, a ray of moonlight breaking through the dark branches of trees, and he’s falling apart.
“I swear it,” Alexander whispers again. “I’ll keep you safe.”
xxx
It’s the morning after Opening Night, and the morning after his own act dropped.
Strangely enough, John Laurens feels lighter than air, although he’d spent a considerable amount of time sobbing the night before. Though perhaps that has more to do with Alexander wrapped around him in his bunk than anything else.
They’d finally talked it out- that was good. It’s hard to know what to do after months on end of pining after your closest friend, then suddenly getting together with them. Laurens knows it’s insane and completely irrational, being so deeply in love with somebody after such a short time, but it’s the truest thing he’s ever felt, and it’s natural- the two broken boys finding solace in each other in their even more broken world. Perhaps the greatest relief had been not the revelation that Alexander loved him back (though, granted, he’s really not over that at all, either), but Alex’s acceptance of John’s sexuality. He’d just been so damn afraid that he’d just be rejected, thrown away, because, if he’s being honest with himself, a part of him knows that Alexander is the actual polar opposite of asexual, and always knew that. But knowing that he’ll be loved just the same… That makes a world of difference for him.
For a while, the pair had just stayed on the couch, instead talking about much lighter topics; Laurens is sure he laughed and smiled more in those two hours than he ever has in his entire life. There’d been a lot more PDA than he’d bargained for (well, not public, but still: physical displays of romantic affection), but thankfully, Alexander actually respected his boundaries and truly cared for him. That was new, and normally Laurens wasn’t all too keen on novelties, but this one… This one he could get used to. Briefly, he had fallen asleep there, on that age-old couch, arms still wrapped around his boyfriend (Boyfriend, John thinks, relishing the word) and head resting on the other’s shoulder. It had been about one in the morning when Alex woke him back up again; Laurens smiled slightly at the memory of opening his eyes to meet Alexander’s softly grinning face. They’d walked, hand in hand (like always, but it was different this time) back to Cabin Five, where they’d thankfully found Lafayette and Mulligan already asleep. The two had collapsed down into John’s bunk and drifted off almost immediately.
Now, John is awake, and he’s holding the boy he loves more than anyone else close to his chest, never letting go, because he knows, more than anything, that they need each other to survive.
In his arms, Alexander stirs and turns around so that they’re nose to nose, and John smiles involuntarily. “Hey, love,” Alex whispers softly, lightly kissing his nose.
“Hey,” Laurens murmurs back.
xxx
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Epilogue
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The final weeks of Camp Forge are spent in a whirlwind of sunlight interchangable with the flickering spotlight, laughter mixing together in song, cheers of the audience blurred with the sarcastic clapping of his friends, unscripted words merging with long-practiced sentences. The only thing that doesn’t change is the camaraderie and love that floats in the air like the softest of summer breezes, weaving the kids who have found their home in the darkness of the theater together. It’s home.
And they won’t be returning for the next summer, or the one after that, or the one after that.
Before anybody can even realize what’s happened, it’s the last day of camp. Cars are screeching to a halt into parking places just outside the camp entrance, but this time not to see one of the shows that have been running since the 10th of August till the 20th. The free five days seem to have flown by just as quickly, filled with the brightest of smiles and ribbings from friends and soft kisses exchanged in private (John’s still not comfortable with that sort of thing in public, not sure if he ever will be, but both are okay with that- it’s enough).
“Hey, Laurens!” Alexander calls out on the morning of the 25th in the middle of breakfast. The other boy is midway through his second shovel talk with Angelica (it’s the fifth he’s received so far; for some reason the oldest Schuyler waited for the others to take their turn before she started in and freaked John out), and he looks up a little desperately.
“Alexander!” he exclaims, scrambling away from where he’s seated. Angelica looks like she’s not sure whether to be amused or annoyed, settling on a little half-smirk as she stabs at her barely picked at scrambled eggs. “What’s up?” John asks, a relieved grin settling on his face. Alex still isn’t at all over that sun-glow smile, the one that makes him feel like somebody’s lit a candle up inside him, makes him flicker with light and warmth.
“Oh- just, we’ve been dating for 15 days, have known each other for about 2 months, and I still don’t have your number.”
Laurens laughs, eyes crinkling up around the edges, as he pulls a pen out of his pocket and scribbles down a phone number on Alexander’s arm. “Wow, if you put it like that, it seems like we really escalated quickly,” he teases, poking at Alex’s shoulder. Behind John’s back, Peggy mimes throwing up, and Alex rolls his eyes at them.
“Just thought I’d save you from the terrifying preemptive wrath of the formidable Angelica Schuyler,” Alexander replies, grinning and leading John back over to their spot at the table.
“Well, then I thank you for that.”
Suddenly, Laurens’s face goes slack and he leans against Alex, as if for support.
“What’s up?” Alexander whispers, instinctively grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and entwining their fingers carefully. John looks up at him, eyes wide once more.
“My family. They sent me here to… eradicate my orientations. Both of them. Remember?”
Alex nods slowly, thoughtfully, heart sinking at the tempered panic in John’s eyes. “You’re going to college in, like, a week, right?”
“...Yeah.”
“I swear to you that they won’t even come near you. If they lay even a single finger on you, try to send you to an actual reform camp, then I’m going down to South Carolina to… talk… some sense into them, okay? You’ll be alright. You’ve got me, remember?” Alexander has been making promises far more often over the last week. Perhaps it’s because he’s finally certain he’ll keep them.
Laurens smiles a little and squeezes his hand tightly. “Always.”
