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Laurens was single and Thomas hadn’t let Alexander out of his sight around the man all night. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Alexander’s judgement, but Thomas had found that he liked to be in the room where decisions happened, particularly those involving his boyfriend’s continuous (and if Thomas had his way, permanent) involvement in his romantic life.
From across the room, Thomas watched them, chatting mindlessly into Madison’s ear as he meticulously documented the conversation going on. Lauren’s eyes wandered slowly from Alex’s eyes to his mouth to his throat. Thomas felt his own throat close tightly as Laurens draped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, laughing uproariously at– Thomas can’t fathom to guess at what, he was so involved with the action and the motivation behind it.
Thomas inhaled—so sharply that it drew Madison’s attention away from the brunette he had been eying with open appreciation.
“Why don’t you go over there and size up the competition?” Madison snarked at Thomas, and the implication set Thomas off.
“As if that little shit could stand a chance against me,” he shot back, the tense hand on his drink giving away his unease. “Going over would be like admitting that Hamilton was right about the national debt.”
Madison shivered. “Regardless of that mess, the bad plan was the one that stuck around, wasn’t it? Despite the opposition of the South?”
The two watched Laurens grab Alexander’s arm as they laughed.
“Despite the opposition of the incredibly handsome, talented, intelligent South,” Thomas agreed softly, eyes focusing on the hand that briefly sat on the back of Alexander’s neck.
“While I have all of the faith in the world in Hamilton’s ability to keep it in his pants,” Madison said incredibly dryly, “you’re making me nervous. Go over there and say something before I do it myself to be rid of you.”
Madison clapped a warm hand over Jefferson’s shoulder and pushed him away from the table they were leaning on. Thomas recovered marvelously from a stumble by dancing to the melody, a grin growing on his face when Alexander noticed and the chuckles that were dying down within him roared back to life. Thomas moved with the music towards the two, laughing at Alexander’s laugh, smiling at his smile. He noted with great satisfaction that Laurens sobered immensely when he came near them.
“Enjoying yourself, Alexander?” he asked, preening when his boyfriend turned and leaned on him. Jefferson easily wrapped an arm around Alexander’s side and turned his attention to Laurens.
“Not nearly as much as you are,” Alexander said, still giggling.
“It would only be better if you were in my arms,” Thomas grumbled, leaning his chin on Alexander’s head and pointedly looking down at Laurens.
“You gigantic sap! Let go of me so I can laugh at you properly!” Alexander squirmed and pulled away, eyes dancing playfully when they met Thomas’s.
There was a moment of silence, and Alexander—always, Alexander—filled it.
“Have you had a chance to talk to John tonight?” he asked, pulling Laurens back into the conversation.
“Not yet,” Thomas admitted, reluctantly offering out his hand. Laurens took it after only a moment’s hesitation and they shook, a little too firm to be considered friendly.
“John’s been off in the Carolinas recently,” Alexander said, turning slightly to face Laurens. “He’s heading a huge civil rights movement and he’s been looking for an extra pair of hands to help out.”
“And I’m sure you directed him immediately to Angelica Schuyler,” Thomas said, eyes on the party while speaking to Alexander. “She’s always looking for something to stand for. In fact, I know for a fact that all of the Schuylers would love to hear about it!”
Jefferson met eyes with Eliza (perfect!) and beckoned her over. After a quick apology to her date, the woman Madison had been watching earlier, Eliza made her way towards the small group.
“Good evening, Thomas,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Alexander, as always, good to see you. And—John Laurens! It’s certainly been quite some time, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” John said, taking the hand she offered out and kissing it.
“Laurens was interested in telling you about his civil rights work in the Carolinas,” Thomas said quickly, moving behind Alexander and resting his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. “He wants your help.”
“John’s only just gotten back, I’m sure he’s tired,” Alexander tried, but both Eliza and John waved him off.
“I love to talk about my work,” John said, smiling warmly at Alexander. “I find that when you’re passionate about something, it’s always on the tip of the tongue. And when you’re passionate about someone, that’s where you want them the most.”
Thomas took in Laurens playful eyes, his smile, the way his chin jutted out and how the low lights made his skin glow.
He short circuited.
“Just the tip?” Thomas asked rudely, and, kneeling for better access, he grabbed Alexander’s legs and pulled them up, his other arm catching his surprised boyfriend and lifting him up to Thomas’s chest.
Alex squeaked in protest but in a fluid motion Thomas had picked him up and turned to the dance floor, where a slow dance had begun. He sashayed to the center, far from the conversation, ignoring eyes both annoyed and amused.
“Put me down you asshole!” Alexander complained. “Just because you’re tall doesn’t make you less of an asshole, in my book! In fact, it triples your asshole factor! Quadruples it!”
“Let’s dance,” Thomas said leaning his forehead against Alex’s, who huffed. Thomas laughed, a warm, rich thing that riled up Alexander in more ways than one.
“Put me down and I’ll think about it!” Alex said. “And what is this even all about? Why can’t I have a single conversation with an old friend without you stepping in and sweeping me off my feet? And I mean that literally!”
Thomas hummed. “I like holding you. John Laurens wasn’t going to keep me from doing it.”
And maybe it was the way he said it, or the tone, or the way he turned his head so Alex couldn’t see his eyes, but Alexander softened.
“Oh, Thomas,” Alexander whispered, running a hand over Thomas’s cheek, pushing softly so that Thomas was looking at him again.
“I thought about going out with John a few years ago,” Alex said, and Thomas tensed. “He was cute, and nice, and he put up with me better than most.”
“He isn’t good enough for you,” Thomas said bitterly.
“He would have gotten tired of my bullshit, and I would have gotten tired of him, too,” Alexander agreed, hooking his arms around Thomas’s neck. “I don’t know why he suddenly seems interested, but I don’t want you to think that even for a second I would give you up for what would ultimately be a caricature of what we have to be with someone else.”
Thomas stayed quiet, swaying gently to the music. Alexander smiled up at him before resting his head on Thomas’s chest, right over his heart.
“Before you, I didn’t think I would ever be satisfied,” Alexander said. “And now, I know that without you I’ll never be satisfied again.”
Thomas held Alexander close to him and let the music wash over them, ignoring the dull strain in his arms, ignoring the end of the song and the shifting of partners.
“Have I told you that I love you?” he asked softly, and Alexander startled in his arms. “Well, I’m long overdue then, aren’t I?”
Thomas made sure that Alexander’s eyes locked onto his, that his words couldn’t possibly be construed as a joke.
“I love you, Alexander,” Thomas said. “Even if you’re wrong about everything, I love you.”
“And even though every plan you have ever suggested would have brought this country to its knees if I hadn’t stepped in, I love you too,” Alexander said, smiling sweetly.
The music slowed, stopped, and they looked at each other.
“First of all, my debt plan saved this country before you could have delivered us stillborn right back on George’s doorstep!” Alexander shouted, and Thomas let his legs drop so that Alex could stand again. “And you honestly think that we could have helped France in the state we were in?”
“Your debt plan abused half the country in order to keep the fat cats you love so much at Wallstreet happy!” Jefferson shouted back. “And we could have done something to repay French aid!”
“Like what? What money did we have to send, Jefferson? Did your debt plan include sending money we didn’t have to the French? Oh, that’s right! You didn’t even have a debt plan!”
“Gentlemen, if you’re going to argue, do it somewhere—”
“Fuck you, Burr!”
“Yeah, fuck you, Burr!”
Madison watched from across the room the two idiots get kicked out of the party, and he watched people’s reactions. Burr was relieved, Angelica, amused. Mulligan and Lafayette were openly laughing at them while Washington looked on, a cross between pleased and annoyed.
And Laurens, watching the couple yelling back and forth at an overwhelming intensity as they were escorted out, watching them intertwine fingers with one hand as they simultaneously jabbed fingers at each other with the other, watching as they both turned and absolutely roasted Burr from across the room as they were ejected from the premise—
Laurens looked like he finally understood that he didn’t stand a chance at Hamilton’s heart, not when Jefferson stood guard over it so thoroughly. Not when each of them had found someone who could match them, who could best them, who could take everything that they had to give and cherish every moment of it. Not when they were finally satisfied.