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Ever since they’d graduated college, anytime Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette hung out around alcohol ended badly.
There was the time they ended up almost being arrested after Hamilton had convinced everyone that toilet-papering Aaron Burr’s house was a great idea. And the time they had all fallen asleep on George Washington’s front lawn because Laurens really, really wanted to pet Alexander Hamilton (the cat). Possibly the best was the time when Mulligan had accidentally sewn Lafayette to Eliza’s new sofa because the whole room was in agreement that his pants were looking a little loose. But even though things like this happened every time, Hamilton kept inviting everyone over for drinks.
Lafayette arrived on his cross-bike at around 6:30pm with Mulligan, who was riding a stylish pink beach cruiser, and Laurens, on a bright green mountain bike which was much too small for him, in tow. The two Americans were both complaining loudly as they rode down the hill to the house where Alexander and Eliza had recently moved with their newborn son, Phillip.
“Lafayette, why are you making us do this?” Laurens panted. “You’re the only one with a proper bike.”
“Yeah, man. I had to borrow my mom’s bike and it has this weird seat because-“ Mulligan was cut off.
“Boys, we are aging quickly, we need to keep in shape if we want to continue attracting the attention of such beautiful women as our dear Eliza here.” He said in a thick French accent as he dismounted to kiss Eliza’s hand.
“Laf, I appreciate the attention but we’re all married. Everyone here has been married for years.” Eliza said with a smile.
“Pssh,” Lafayette said, “Being attractive is about a lot more than just earning romantic attention. It’s about painting yourself as a gentleman in the public eye.”
“You’re starting to sound a lot like Jefferson.” Laurens said, dumping his bike on the patchy but still green lawn.
Hamilton appeared behind Eliza, holding Phillip. “Aw guys, did you get Lafayette drunk without me?”
“Nah, man it’s just this new health kick he’s on. Thinks it’ll make him a gentleman or something.” Laurens said, hugging Hamilton, careful to not crush Phillip.
“Yeah I think he just tried to smoke some kale again, it’ll wear off soon.” Mulligan said, provoking a round of obnoxious laughter from everyone.
This went on for quite a while, Lafayette’s bored looks and the occasional tapping of his wrist only spurring them on.
Finally, gasping for breath, Eliza managed, “Guys, guys,” she broke down laughing again, “we’ve really gotta stop now, really, we’re gonna wake Phillip.”
Still grinning, the group made their way inside to the living room where A Christmas Story was playing on a loop and a few bottles of liquor waited unopened on a side table, where Lafayette placed three more from Mulligan, Laurens, and himself.
“So you’re still having a love affair with A Christmas Story, eh Alexander?” Lafayette said, subconsciously trying to get everyone back on his side.
“Bro, why are you shitting on A Christmas Story? It’s a quality family movie, are you trying to get back at us for before? It was just a joke man, chill.” Mulligan said.
“No, I love A Christmas Story, Alexander just watches it so much, wait, it’s July!” Lafayette floundered as Mulligan made his way toward the kitchen where everyone was getting food. Giving up, he followed the smell of food.
The kitchen was tiny and filled with people all trying to get one of Hamilton’s famous bacon cheeseburgers at once. Laurens cheered as he held up a plate and when Eliza and Mulligan stepped aside Lafayette was able to catch a glimpse of Hamilton in his Bush Did 9/11 apron. Eliza was served next, then Mulligan, and then it was his turn.
“Actually, Alex,” Lafayette drawled, “do you have any fruit or anything? I’m trying to be healthy.”
“Nope.” Hamilton said, plopping a paper plate almost dripping with grease into his hands. “You can take a break for one night. Besides, alcohol isn’t exactly low in calories and we’re all getting smashed tonight.”
“But-“ Lafayette said trying to place the plate back onto the messy counter.
“You’re eating, you look great.” Hamilton turned Lafayette around and pushed him toward the door.
~~~
Halfway through the first run through of A Christmas Story, everyone was done eating and Hamilton decided it was time for shots. As he was handed a glass, Laurens realized that Eliza was the only one left without one.
“Eliza, won’t you be joining us?” he asked.
“Well, I think you’ve all proven that you can’t take it easy and someone needs to be responsible here. Besides, we’ve got Phillip now and Alexander sucks at keeping him quiet when I have headaches, but that’s probably because he can’t even be quiet himself.”
“Ohhhhhh!” Laurens yelled. “She dragged you and it was so real! Have you been talking to Jefferson, Eliza? Damn!”
This induced another room-wide fit of laughter because it was really accurate. By the time they actually got drunk enough to begin to lose their grip on reality, it was 9:30 and Eliza had gotten out a video camera to show them how ridiculous they had been in the morning.
The four men were all packed onto the couch, with Laurens on the end, Hamilton next to him with Lafayette in the middle, and Mulligan next to him on the other end. Eliza was standing off to the side, trying to adjust the flash setting on the camera.
“Laurens,” Hamilton said in a groggy voice, “Laurens…”
“What?” Laurens asked.
“Thomas Jefferson eats ass.”
This caused the men to giggle uncontrollably for several minutes before Mulligan said, “Wait. Wait what are we laughing about?”
Lafayette gasped. “I don’t know. I don’t know man.”
They lapsed back into silence for several more minutes. “Laurens…” Hamilton said again.
“What?”
“William Maclay looks like a freaking alien.”
Laurens and Hamilton started laughing so loud that Eliza had to shush them because they were on the verge of waking Phillip. Mulligan and Lafayette, the less drunk half of the group, weren’t laughing. Partly because they had never seen the Pennsylvania Senator, partly because they were both thinking that they should get going before A Christmas Story started again.
“Well,” Lafayette said, “we should get going before Washington gets involved again.” He used Mulligan to push himself up off the couch before trying to help the others up. He stumbled to the front door and made his way out onto the lawn to leave when Hamilton called from the front door.
“Wait! I’ll ride you home.” Hamilton started laughing. “’Ride you home.’ But really I’ll go get my bike.”
“Wait, honey you haven’t ridden a bike in years it’s probably not working right.” Eliza tried to stop him as he turned to go back inside.
“Listen, son, these are my friends and I can’t just leave them out in the cold.”
“It’s 85 degrees out!”
“Shhhhhh…” Hamilton kissed her sloppily as he wheeled his bike out of the house into the front yard where everyone was ready to go. “Come on, boys! I’ll lead us.” He swung his leg over the top-tube and pushed off, which was when he fell onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Laurens thought this was so funny that he too fell over and simply laid in the grass with Hamilton, laughing his head off.
“Uh, Eliza, do you want us to take Hamilton inside? We can probably find a ride home for Laurens too if he’s going to cause trouble tomorrow or something.” Mulligan asked, staring at his two idiot friends lying drunk on the lawn of the suburban neighborhood.
“No, that’s all right. It’s a warm night out, it’s a nice neighborhood, they’ll be alright. Good luck getting home. Call me if you need anything.” Eliza said, turning to go back inside with Phillip.
“Thanks, goodnight, Eliza.” Mulligan called.
“Sweet dreams, ma cherie!” Lafayette yelled a little too loudly.
“Sweet dreams, Laf.”
~~~
Mulligan and Lafayette had been gone for several hours before Hamilton woke up.
“Laurens!” he said in an over-exaggerated whisper.
“What?” Laurens asked in a muffled voice from his face-down position in the grass.
“Where are we?”
“Your front lawn. We got drunk and fell off our bikes and now we’re here.”
“Oh. Do you want to go inside and sleep on the couch or something?”
“Yeah, I don’t really think I could make it that far.”
“Well at least turn over so you don’t swallow a bug or something.”
Hamilton apparently functioned better hung-over than Laurens did, as he was already lying on his back with his head resting on his arms, star-gazing. Laurens rolled over and managed to maneuver himself enough so that he was lying with his head resting on Hamilton’s arm and shoulder, curled into his side. He looked up to meet Hamilton’s eyes.
“So what’s up with those stars?” he said in a hushed voice, trusting that Hamilton would know that he wanted him to talk about the constellations.
“Well that one’s the big dipper, it looks like a big spoon, apparently me, even though you’re much taller. And the one next to it is the little dipper. And I have too much of a headache to remember where the rest of them are.”
“Nice. Are you sure you don’t want to go inside? I can sleep out here by myself.”
“No, I love being out here with you. It reminds me of the nights we used to share in college.”
“That’s pretty gay.” Laurens said, looking up to meet Hamilton’s eyes again before kissing him. It was short, innocent, but it was by far the best moment of the night.
“Actually, I think it was more bisexual than gay.” Hamilton laughed quietly.
Hamilton removed one of his hands from underneath his head and wrapped it around Laurens, who had already wrapped his arms around Hamilton’s chest. They fell asleep like that, surrounded by the scent of grass and the sound of summer, happy and at rest together for the first time in a long time.