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Alex Hamilton is on a walk with John Laurens. Okay, okay, he can handle this. He’s not going to die.
Oh wait, scratch that. He is going to die due to spontaneous combustion, because he is on a walk through New York with his best friend, roommate, and hopeless crush. Also known as John Laurens.
He doesn’t even know why he suggested it. Hey, John, do you want to… go for a walk? Or something? John’s smile had nearly blinded him. Hey, at least he’d agreed.
He’s leading John to a small coffee shop not far from Times Square where Eliza works. She’s a friend of his (or a partner in crime - she likes both.)
The two are talking about why Les Miserables is one of the best musicals ever written. Alex is distracted, ordering a coffee and replying with “yes” when Eliza asks for the size. John orders an iced mocha (why? It’s winter, John) and slings an arm over Alex’s shoulders. Alexander quiets, heart beating in his throat.
John is warm. When Alex leans into his side, hunching his shoulders to fit better under John’s arm, it feels like telling stories around the fireside, leaves crackling under your feet, like coffee on rainy days, like an A chord strummed in the middle of the night. Alex leans his head on John’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed. He feels home.
He feels John sigh, and hears a quiet “yeah…”. It’s the voice that John uses late at night, the cotton-on-silk voice that sends Alex to sleep within seconds. He makes no note of it.
They get their coffees and Alex grudgingly moves from under John’s arm to get sugar. They sit at a table for two, and Alex is hyper-aware of every time their legs brush under the table.
A waitress brings the check and Alex moves to pay, but John beats him to it, sliding a ten-dollar bill into the book. They bring it to the register and Eliza beams at them.
“Nice date?”
The blood drains from Alex’s face. “I- we- no, just-” he scrambles for an excuse, when John’s hand settles in the small of his back and his face reddens. “I, uh, yeah, I guess?”
Shit. Alex just screwed up, big time. What if John was just friendly like that?
Alex manages to say “Thanks for the coffee, Eliza” before turning and trying to get out of there as quickly as possible before Eliza embarrassed him any further. John catches up with him when he reaches the door and gets him to slow down. Eliza clears her throat behind the pair. Loudly.
When Alex looks at her in confusion, eyebrows raised, she points up with one slender finger. Alex and John look up in unison to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the door frame.
Alex glances at John nervously to see his usually fairytale-hazel eyes darkened, pupils blown. John smiles crookedly, shrugging.
“Well, it is tradition,” he says, before pulling Alex in by the back of the neck and connecting their lips. Alex’s hands move along his arms, to his shoulders, locking behind his neck. John puts one hand on Alex’s hip and Alex is on fire. He offers little to no resistance, seeing how his lips slip and slide against John’s. John’s left hand alights on his waist like a butterfly and the hand on his hip draws light patterns into his skin. Eliza wolf-whistles in the background, and the two pull away, faces flushed and lips red.
Eliza sets her hands against the counter, and with a small smirk, says, “Well, glad to see that you two sorted out that sexual tension, but now you’ve gotta get out of here.”
Alex smiles at her, taking John by the hand and whisking him out the door.
Eliza sighs, rolling her eyes. “Lovebirds.”
She calls out to Angelica in the back, leaving her position behind the register to stand in front of the door. “Help me get this mistletoe down before anyone else comes in, would ya?”