Chapter Text
John Laurens misses his ex.
Sorely. Hopelessly. Painfully.
But Alex had better things in his life. A girl. Maria Reynolds walked into their lives, and suddenly the auburn haired boy that he dedicated his heart to had slipped through his fingers. Alex and Maria broke up less than a month later, but John never chased him. The fear of rejection was more powerful than his helpless devotion.
Here John was, 3:26 am, scrolling through twitter with a bored frown painted over his features as he glanced at the politics of the world, feeling a sharp pang of loneliness as he studied the headlines. Alex loved talking about politics. Even though John found it to be the dullest subject on earth, he was more than content to let his boyfriend sit in his lap and ramble for hours about whatever scandal was circling at the time.
John dropped his phone on the bed in surprise as a loud thud echoed around his apartment-someone was banging on his door.
“Who the fuck-“ he muttered, staggering out of bed, rubbing his eyes. John trudged out to the door, flinging it open to reveal none other than Thomas Jefferson, holding in his arms the tiny frame of Alexander Hamilton, teary eyed and pressed against Jefferson’s chest.
“Jefferson? What the fuck, it’s like three am? What the hell-“ Jefferson shushed him, lifting Alex slightly in his arms to indicate that John had to be quiet.
“He’s wasted. Reckon someone spiked his drink, cause he never usually drinks that much. And I dunno anything for sure, but there was a blunt being passed around, and some white powder that I don’t exactly think was sugar. He started whimpering and shit, saying it was too loud, and then he started crying. I fucking hate the dude, but I’m not totally heartless. He was crying for you. Kept saying ‘I want John, where’s John-‘ and when I said you guys had been broken up a few months now, he just got worse.” Jefferson explains in a hushed whisper. “I believe this is your property.” He says, shifting Alex into John’s open arms, the smaller boy squeaking at the movement.
Alex looked up blearily, pupils blown wide and teary. After a second, he seemed to recognise John’s face and his eyes went wide. Alex flung his arms around John’s neck, pushing into his chest.
“John, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry-“ the ginger boy choked on a stream of apologies, tears staining John’s shirt as the blonde desperately tried to shush him.
“Hey, baby, no, it’s ok. Let’s go inside, yeah? I think you need some water. Cmon, darling, deep breaths. John glanced up at Jefferson, giving him a nod of acknowledgment. His voice dropped to a murmur. “Thank you for bringing him here. Don’t use it against him too much.” Jefferson smirked, and then he was gone.
John turned back into his apartment, Alex still clinging to him like a baby koala. John set him down gently on the bed, brushing ginger hair out of his watery eyes. “Ok, cariño, you wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, cupping Alex’s jaw. Alex hiccuped, taking one of John’s hands and squeezing, as if checking the boy in front of him was actually real.
“I-I don’t know. I only had two shots of whiskey, honest. I didn’t- I wouldn’t-“ Alex takes another shuddering breath and John wraps his arms around him.
“It’s ok, love. Deep breaths, ok, breathe with me, doll.” John took deep, exaggerated breaths, rubbing crescents over Alex’s hands with his thumbs. He reached for the bottle of water he kept on his bedside table, handing it to the trembling redhead, who took it gratefully.
“You wanna go to bed now? It’s really late, and we have a lot to talk about in the morning.” John said softly, brushing Alex’s cheek with the back of his fingers.
Alex blinked up at John, clumsily pulling himself onto the larger man’s lap. “Want you t’ fuck me.” Alex slurs. John freezes, heat rushing to his cheeks. He rubs his hands up and down Alex’s sides, up to his jaw, over his lips.
“Darling, no. You’re drunk, I’m not taking advantage of you like that. Not when you’ll regret it in the morning.” Alex whined, pressing his forehead against John’s unhappily.
“Can you kiss me, at least?” He sighs, caressing John’s jaw. The blonde hesitates before holding Alex’s waist and kissing him gently. It’s soft, light, and innocent, and Alex pulls back a satisfied little smile.
“Bed. Now.” John says firmly, tracing Alex’s jaw.
Alex groans, falling onto the pillows. John curls up around him, one arm draped over his front, the other carding through his hair.
“I wish you’d sing our song again.” Alex whispers wistfully, remembering the lighthearted strum of John’s guitar and the smooth, silky sound of John’s voice telling the story of them.
John sighs, pressing his mouth against Alex’s ear. “Tomorrow, my love. I’ll do it all tomorrow.”