Chapter Text
The house felt too empty. As Alex dipped his weathered quill in the pot of ink, he could hear the steady tick of the clock as it marked the countless hours he had sat at his desk, writing his proposal. It was slightly unnerving, as the sound of his rambunctious children would have usually filled the silence. He missed them, and most of all, he missed his wife Eliza and her steady presence. He stared ruefully at his papers, regretting his decision to stay. He could almost imagine her standing over him with a faint smile on her face.
Working again, Alex? Come back to bed , she would say.
Just a minute, my love, he would reply, and continue working as if she had not been there.
Ever since Eliza and their children left to go upstate, he was nowhere closer to convincing the Democratic-Republicans of doing anything . It seemed that their sole goal was to make sure nothing he proposed passed the Senate. No one hated him more than Thomas Jefferson, his political rival. He felt increasingly isolated at his new hostile work environment, and John Laurens, his dearest friend and-
No.
Just his friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
John, his dearest friend, was the only person keeping him sane there. If John had decided not to run, he most likely would have resigned.
Perhaps Eliza was right; he should have taken a break.
Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. He looked up. He had hardly noticed that hours had passed while writing, and it was well after ten o’clock now. Alex got up and opened the door. In front of him stood a lovely young woman, with rich brown eyes and wavy blond hair which cascaded down her shoulders. Strangely, she wore a black pelisse over her scarlet red dress even though it was fairly warm outside.
“Good evening,” he said. “To what do I owe you the pleasure of?”
“I, uh….I just wanted...um...” she stammered, not meeting him in the eye. “It’s a long story. Do you mind if I come in?”
“ Sure," Alex agreed, stepping back to let her in. He held out his hand, offering to take her pelisse. She hesitated before slowly removing it, revealing multiple bruises covering her arms. As he led the woman to his sitting room, he had thousands of questions just waiting to burst from his mouth. Most importantly, who was she, and what did she want with him?
Once they were seated with a cup of tea in their hands, the lady began talking.
“I am so sorry for bothering you at home, especially at this time,” she apologized. “My name is Maria Reynolds. Ever since I married my husband James Reynolds eight years ago, he has been abusing me.” She gestured to her bruises. “Two days ago, he left me alone to fend for myself. I recently moved here to New York, and I don’t know anyone. I heard from someone that you live around this area, and I was hoping you would let me stay here for a while. I just don’t know where to go or what to do….” She pulled out her handkerchief and started wiped away the tears that had escaped her eyes.
Alex felt anger and pity well up inside him. If he ever had the chance to meet James Reynolds, he knew he would challenge him to a duel for slighting her honour in a heartbeat. For now, he felt that the least he could do was offer her a place to stay. After reassuring her and telling her that everything would be alright, he guided her to his guest bedroom, where his sister-in-law Angelica had occupied a week ago.
“I will send you a doctor tomorrow,” he promised. “In the meantime, make yourself at home, and don’t hesitate to stay as long as you need.”
“You’re too kind, sir,” he responded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he responded, holding her hand and bending down to kiss it. He moved to withdraw his hand, but she grabbed it back.
“Please sir, I know I’m being bold in asking you of this, but…” she trailed off, slowly rubbing his hand with her warm fingers. “I would appreciate it if you slept with me tonight. As a repayment for your kindness”
"I am afraid I cannot,” he replied firmly. “It would be inappropriate to do so, considering that we are both married.”
“No one needs to know,” she countered, stepping closer to him. Up close, he could smell her vanilla and jasmine perfume. If he was a moth, the perfume would be a flame, luring him into his doom. He could not help but notice she was undeniably beautiful, and it was a shame a nasty man like James was married to her. He thought about how easy it would be to give in and say yes. Sensing his hesitation, Maria cupped her hand over his cheek and leaned in for a kiss.
Resist, one voice whispered. Say no to this.
No one needs to know, another whispered louder. It’ll be fine.
He thought of what would happen if he was caught in the act, picturing Angelica’s rage and Eliza’s pain. Is this what you want?
Maria’s lips grazed his. Reluctantly, he let her kiss him on the lips, but he didn’t move his lips to reciprocate the action.
Imagine she is someone you actually love, his brain whispered. At least this will make the experience better.
When he pulled back, Maria wasn’t standing in front of him. Instead, a man with blond hair and sparkling blue eyes stood there. John. John leaned in to kiss him, and this time, he returned his affections. When he pulled away, he saw Maria again.
“No!” he cried, horrified at his actions.
“What’s wrong, sir?” Maria asked, looking worried.
“Everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “Good night.”
As he went to sleep, he couldn’t figure out which sin was mostly responsible for the burning sense of shame he felt: allowing Maria to kiss him or kissing Maria under the pretense that she was John.
“No way!” John interjected. “She really did that?”
“You have to stop interrupting me,” Alex chided. “And yes, she did.”
The two men were in a bar after a long day of work. Although they worked in the same building, with John as the senator of South Carolina and Alex as the Secretary of the Treasury, they never seemed to have time to get together to relax and talk outside a professional setting due to their busy work schedules. Alex inwardly admitted that it was nice to take a break, but he couldn’t seem to silence the voice in his head that told him to get back to work. He had told John what had happened last night. Well, everything but the last part where he...
He couldn't bring himself to say it, even in his head.
“And you kissed her back?”
“Not really.” He felt heat creep into his cheeks, and he struggled to keep in down.
John gave him a rather serious look. “Not really?”
“John, I promise, I love no one but Eliza,” he said with as much sincerity he could muster. He placed his hand on top of John’s in what he hoped was a reassuring way, but as soon as their skin made contact, he realized he made a huge faux pas. Now he was hyper-aware of John’s hand, from the smoothness yet firmness of his hand.
Stop it , his brain scolded. He retracted his hand after leaving it on for perhaps a second too long to be considered friendly.
“Anyhow, this whole incident’s crazy,” John commented, taking a gulp of whiskey. “So what happens now?”
“I do not know,” Alex responded. “Right now, she has been living at my place for about three days. She has not suggested sleeping with me again, which is good. The only problem is that I don’t know what to do when James comes home. Can I really send her home knowing that she’ll probably be abused by him? I do not have the power to interfere with her marriage, as terrible as it is.”
“Don’t you find it strange that she knows where you live?” he mused. Alex paused, mulling over this observation. Indeed, now that he thought of it, it was strange.
“Does Eliza know?” John asked. “Not yet,” he answered. “I have not gotten around to telling her. Additionally, I do not know how long she will stay, or what she will plan to do when James returns.”
“Or what will happen if he doesn’t,” John added. “You can’t rule out that possibility.”
“True,” he agreed. Changing the subject, he asked, “So how is your relationship between you and Martha?”
His mood turned somber. “She refuses to leave London. Instead, she wants me to move across the ocean to her. You know I can’t do that,” he said, signaling the bartender to refill his glass. “I love my job and America too much.”
“What does your father want you to do?” he questioned.
“He thinks I should go. After all, it’s my fault I impregnated her. I just think it’s an excuse to get rid of me so I can’t quote-unquote, ‘implement those fucking abolition laws’.”
John downed his glass in one gulp, but before he could order another one, Alex slapped his hand down.
“That’s enough,” he ordered. “You’ve already had three glasses.”
“You’re no fun,” he grumbled, but he got up to leave anyway.
A shower of rain greeted them once they left the bar. He heard Alex curse under his breath. His house was too far to walk there without being thoroughly drenched, yet too close to call for a coach, and staying in a bar full of drunk men wasn’t a pleasant alternative.
Alex looked at him with a sly grin and yelled, “Race you to my house!”
Startled, he watched as he ran ahead before chasing after him. He wasn’t used to him being spontaneous, especially since he became a respectable politician who maintained his formality even when drinking with friends. Despite it being years since they fought in the Revolution, Alex maintained his superb athleticism. It took John a while before he caught up with Alex.
“How are you so fast?” John huffed, struggling to run and talk simultaneously.
“I just am,” Alex replied with ease.
They reached his house in a matter of minutes, ignoring the strange looks they received from others. Although Alex did beat John to the door by a split second, he graciously called it a tie. John didn’t care. Running with Alex at his side made him feel youthful again, reminding him of the time he was carefree.
“Come inside,” Alex said. “ It’s not like you’re in a hurry to go.” That was true. He lived alone in a small house three blocks away, and he often missed having company around. He bought the house in hopes of convincing Martha that he was serious about staying in America and becoming a proper family man, but now, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Heck, he didn’t even know what to do with his life other than continue his job as Senator of South Carolina.
Leaving their sopping wet shoes and coats in the front entrance, Alex and John went to the master bedroom. Alex threw him some night clothes before undressing himself, turning his back to John. He too undressed and slipped into the night clothes before turning around and catching Alex staring at him. Alex did not seem embarrassed that he was caught staring at him. In fact, he seemed to almost challenge him with his gaze that read, You want to call me out for staring at you? Go ahead.
“So if Maria is occupying the guest bedroom, shall I sleep in one of the children’s?” John questioned.
“You could share my bed,” he suggested.
John laughed, but upon the realization that he was serious, his face turned red.
“W-Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” he stammered.
“No, if we’re just two close friends sharing a bed,” Alex replied.
“Uh..I.. okay,” he agreed, mentally kicking himself for being a tongue-tied fool.
He slid into bed, leaving a decent amount of space between them. John felt Alex move closer, closing the gap. He stiffened. No one is watching, he reminded himself, but he still couldn’t sleep.
He turned his back to Alex, staring at the bedroom door that allowed a cool breeze in. After a moment, he turning back to face him. He lay there, studying every aspect of Alex’s face, from his sharp nose to his defined chin. He reached out to touch his face, but then withdrew his hand. God, if anyone knew about what he truly thought of Alex…..
Everything would be easier if he could bury his desire for him.
“I know that you are awake,” Alex mumbled, opening his brilliant azure eyes.
“I couldn’t sleep,” John admitted.
“Is something wrong?” Alex asked, his eyebrows scrunching up with worry. He reached out his hand to touch him.
“Don’t touch me!” he snapped. Alex lowered his hand, hurt flashing across his face.
“What is wrong?” he repeated.
“Nothing!” he yelled, moving away from him.
“That is a lie,” Alex accused
“Well maybe it is!” he retorted. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Silence. John feared that he crossed the line, but he stubbornly refused to make the first move to apologize. Still, he hoped he hadn’t ruined their friendship.
After a moment in which John dealt with internal conflict, a raging war inside his brain, Alex started speaking.
“Ever since the day we met as Washington’s aide-de-camp, I have been thinking of you as more than a friend,” Alex said, looking at the ceiling. John looked at him with surprise. “At first, I thought it was just an infatuation, but then it realized that it was love. I know I shouldn’t be having these feelings about you, but I do and I cannot stop it.” He looked at John. “You do too right? Is that why you keep pulling away from me when I get close to you or are you disgusted by my affections?”
Silence settled in the room.
Come on , his brain urged. Say it already.
But it felt that a jump across a chasm with no point of return. Too risky, too dangerous, too much.
But he loved Alex.
And he was worth the jump.
“Yes, I do have these feelings for you,” he acknowledged with a deep breath. And just like that, an invisible weight was lifted off his chest.
“For real?” Alex breathed. “I thought I was the only one who felt this way.”
“I love you, Alex,” John confessed. “I really do.”
“My dearest Laurens,” Alex said softly. “It might be in my power, by actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you.”
“You just quoted your own letter,” John told him with a smile.
“I meant every word I said then,” Alex responded. “And I still do now.”
Alex moved into a kneeling position, straddling John’s legs with his own, and John sat up. John held Alex’s face in his hands as he kissed him tenderly. They kissed slowly and softly, savouring every movement. Knowing that their love was forbidden made John cherish this moment even more. After minutes of kissing, John moved his hands to unbutton his shirt while staring at his handsome face, which was illuminated by candlelight. He paused. He hadn’t remembered Alex bringing a candle, and neither had he.
John felt his hands go cold as he turning his head to confirm his worst fear.
At the doorway, which they foolishly had left ajar, stood Maria Reynolds. She had the decency to look embarrassed, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
Alex followed his gaze. His face turned pale. Getting off the bed, he grabbed his purse and shoved it in her hands.
“Take it,” he ordered. “Never speak of the incident to anyone.” She nodded. “Now go.”
They both stared after her retreating figure before looking at each other.
"I should go," John said quietly.
"Stay,” Alex insisted. “ We can work this out together.”
John swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his clothes. "We shouldn't have done this," he muttered. "What the hell were we thinking?" He headed for the door, but Alex blocked him.
"John, please stay. We can-"
"Let me go!" he screamed. Alex looked at him with a pained expression but refused to budge. In a desperate attempt, he shoved Alex out of the way. Alex stumbled, which allowed his time to run down the stairs, grab his coat and shoes, and leave his house. Luckily, it was still raining, so his tears were masked by raindrops. He barely traveled a block he collapsed under a sheltered alley and wept. At that moment, he felt that death would be better than living.
He could already feel the flames of hell licking his heels.
maria stepped inside her house silently, looking around for any signs of her husband. sure enough, he was in the sitting room, smoking from his pipe. she contemplated what to do next. would it be safer to greet him or sneak into their bedroom, pretending to be asleep? unfortunately, she didn't have to make that decision because he just had to look up at that moment. great. "so did you seduce hamilton?" james asked gruffly.
“no,” she admitted quietly.
he got up and walked towards her, his face filled with rage. he threw her against the cold ground and began kicking her. she curled up in a ball, shielding her face with her arms. she knew that fighting back would be useless. james made sure to give her everlasting scars for that one time she did. after a minute or two of abuse, she sensed him stepping back as if he got bored of kicking her.
“get up, you little slut,” james spat. she obeyed him, wincing at the bruises that were forming and wiping away her tears. he stepped so close to her that she could smell his breath. to her dismay, he could only smell smoke, meaning that he had beaten her up sober the time.
“you had one fucking job,” he snarled. he looked around. “where is susan? perhaps beating her up for your mistakes will fucking teach you a lesson to do better next time.”
“please,” she begged, getting down on her knees and clinging on to his arms. “beat me a thousand times if you must, but please don’t hurt our daughter.” remembering what happened at hamilton’s house, she had an idea. she knew that they would hate her forever if they found out, but it would be the only way susan would be spared from harm. “i learned something from hamilton’s house,” she said. “it involves him, senator john laurens and a forbidden affair.”
he narrowed his eyes. “go on.”
Alex felt an arm wrap securely around his body from behind him and a warm body press against his back. He sensed warm, languid breaths blow on his neck. He turned around, expecting to see John but-
He woke up, letting out a sigh of frustration.
It had been days since he last saw John and Maria, and he was getting increasingly concerned and paranoid. He could not properly concentrate at debates, allowing Jefferson to get in a few jabs and insults. According to Adams, the reason John had not shown up to work was that he called in sick. Alex tried to visit his house every day, but every day he showed up, it seemed devoid of life.
Unable to sleep, Alex got up and reread the last letter Eliza had sent him. He had not yet drafted a response. Every time he picked up a quill, he felt shame rise in him, knowing that he would have to hide his affair from her.
Hearing someone knock on his door, he went to open it. In front of him stood a man he had never seen before.
“Hamilton,” he addressed him curtly. “You don’t know me, but it doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”