Chapter Text
Thank the lord for spring.
The sun was finally breaking through the thick cover of clouds that had been pouring down snow for seemingly all of winter. The ever present cold could even be somewhat avoided if one found themselves standing in one of these beams of sunlight. Spring had quickly become one of Alexander's favourite seasons.
As it where he had found one of the ever so sought over beams of sunlight to stand in as he took in his three seconds of calm that he could allow himself a day before he was back to his frantic brain, always racing from place to place.
He'd written his hand sore already and John had practically wrestled him into taking a break and, in John's words: eat something, even if it has come out the rear end of a horse.
Alexander had obeyed on the break part, even if it had not come without resistance, the subject of eating was a different manner however. One of the things he hated about winter was that they were hard-pressed to find any food in the environment and therefore needed to rely on supply routes, out here they were also hard-pressed to find supply routes.
They had some food, enough to give the men ratios each day but he fears that is not to last, nevertheless, Hamilton shall obey Laurence's word and eat what he has.
He'd put his own rations away in his tent prefering to snack on them all throughout the day rather than eat it all at once so he made his way to the tent he shared with Laurence and sat down.
It was rather messy, both of them had neglected to clean anything as they'd both been busy with work, they could both still find what they were looking for in here. Each of their styles of chaos apparently blended together perfectly after living in such close quarters for what felt like forever.
Hamilton would not lie and say he did not enjoy staying so close to Laurence, they were good friends, personally he'd say Laurence was the closest friend he's ever had and he'd hope Laurence thought the same.
There were things Alexander knew for certain Laurence could not reciprocate, the thoughts Hamilton still entertained late at night were a great source of shame and pain for him. He could not get over how pathetic it were to wish for a man who would never be able to reciprocate but still when he was too restless to sleep and it was far too dark to write he'd lay in his cot and stare up at his sleeping friend, he'd imagine that they were next to each other, his mind having decided that the miniscule tent was suddenly too large.
Laurence would be awake in these thoughts, he'd hold onto Hamilton's waist, he'd whisper his name into his ear along with soft encourages to come closer, do this do that and Alexander would obey his every word, he'd put his hands where John asked, he'd kiss him when asked and where, he would do whatever John requested without questions or hesitation, it was bitter to remember that Laurence was far too godly of a man to ever even come close to wanting that of him.
There was nothing to be said against Laurence's character, he was good in every sense of the word, Hamilton held no doubt that his sinful thoughts would be as swiftly rejected as they would be forgiven for if there was anything Laurence held in his heart it was compassion.
There was no hope for Alexander to find these thoughts put to rest, he could distract himself all he wanted but the minute he took even a second to himself they would be back and as persistent as ever.
He could not act them out definitely not with Laurence, the only way Alexander could ever come close to touching Laurence like that is if his friend were asleep or simply unable to push back verbally or physically and he would not be able to live with himself if he were to force anything from John in such a state nor would it work with the nature of the thoughts, Hamilton was not enough of a man to make himself the clear sinner, the initiator, no, he had to dream Laurence would handle him like a puppet to use to his will.
He had tried acting it out with other people but that seemed a hopeless endeavour too and only seemed to make his lust sew deeper rots in his soul.
He had even prayed in an attempt to rid himself of them, he'd tried to make it clear to the lord that these thoughts were all but wanted, that he had already resisted the temptation to sully a good man, that no matter how through, persistent or vivid these thoughts became he would never act on them for he would never do such a thing to such an unwilling man as Laurence no matter how he desires him.
His prayers fell on deaf ears as they seem to always do, the thoughts persisted and Hamilton decided it was simply up to him to never give in. Laurence did not desire him so he would never lay a finger on his friend, it was the bare minimum he could possibly do.
When he returned to the tent in which he and the other aides sat to do their work Laurence was bent over a desk, writing as fast as he possibly could. His hair had started to fall away from the ponytail he had tied it up in, a few strands were caught in the light and they illuminated like a halo around his head. Alexander's heart leapt up in his chest, elated over just the sight of such a beautiful man, he was truly hopeless.