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1.
Large amounts of strangers were perhaps one of Alex’s biggest fears, Hercules mused as he felt small hands grasp tighter into the fabric of his shirt, twisting the softened cotton around anxious fingers which plucked nervously at loose threads. In all honestly, the crowds of people pushing and shoving around them wasn’t exactly Hercules idea of a good day either, but there was an embroiderers stall visiting the market again for the first time in years, and after relentless begging, Alex had finally agreed to accompany him, in the name of being a good boyfriend (And there was another stall Alex had disappeared off too earlier, but the long-haired boy refused to disclose his location.)
“Almost there now ‘Lex, you’ll be fine.”
Hitching Alex up back higher on his hips, he felt the curls escaping Alexander’s bun on the side of his face, a short warning before Alex took advantage of the piggy-back to nuzzle gently into the dip between Hercules’ shoulder and neck, gently bobbing in time with each step.
Craning his head to kiss the boy softly on his cheek, Hercules released his grip on Alex’s thighs and slid him down slowly till he was standing on the ground, before gently tugging him towards a brightly coloured stall with swaths of fabric that seemed to grow and twist like bright-coloured roots.
Gently dropping piles of neatly-folded fabric onto the counter, Hercules beamed at Alexander as the cost was being calculated, pulling out his wallet in eager anticipation of working with the embroidered patterns and heavy weight of beaded-designs that draped so well.
“$700.”
A startled laugh burst out of Hercules as he gaped incredulously at the women behind the counter, ready to formulate some sort of apology, before a harsh voice piped up from next to him.
”If your ego is even half as inflated as the price you charge, I’m surprised your head even fit through the doorway. How badly is the incense smothering your ability to think for you to believe that anybo… ”
Staring at the spitting mad boy next to him, Hercules could only smother giggles as Alex threw harsh words across the counter – Not that he understood them though, the lady’s indignant expression his only indictor of whatever Turkish? Arabic? Alex was sprouting. Eventually the women conceded, a triumphant Hamilton curled against his hip as he walked away with the discounted fabrics.
“I didn’t know you were trilingual babe?”
Murmuring something about “not’ j’st three, Alexander clutched tighter to Hercules, mindful of their combined packages, and rested his head against the broad shoulder, but definitely not sleeping (Or so he insisted) as they walked home.
2.
It was no secret that Lafayette was the dancing queen of the universe – There was always some noise coming from his speaker, the sleek pieces of modern stechnology never more than 10 feet away from the Frenchman. It was something all his boyfriends bore with practiced patience, a mutual agreement: He could dance all he wanted, as long as he left everyone else out of it.
“It was a mutual agreement you ignominious Frenchman, I rEFUSE!”
“Mes Amie, why do you not dance? It is not something to be embarrassed about, it is to have fun”
Alexanders protests that he could dance thank-you-very-much, went unheeded as Lafayette dragged him up, pulling on the extra few inches of sweater sleeve that Alexander had bundled himself in,
“You need to practise for my Ball, so you may- how you say? Take the socks of the feet of all who attend.”
John piped in from his slumped position next to Hercules on the sofa;
“Knock, you maniacal immigrant, its ‘Knock your socks off,’ and leave Hammy alone.”
Alexander grumbled at the nickname, scrunching closer into himself as Lafayette tried to pull him into an infantile and over-simplified version of the waltz, trying to coax a response out of the smaller figure.
“I could out-dance you,, in that medieval garb Hercules has made each of us,, and with those shoes you’re forcing us to wear,,”
snapped Alex, pulling away from Lafayette’s warm grasp, his hair loose and wild, framing his face as he glared half-heartedly from the dancing man, who grinned amusedly at the smaller student,
“Of course, My little lion -- I cannot wait to see you on the night.”
__________
As the symphony orchestra Lafayette had requested (read: bullied) his parents into hiring for his ostentatious, over-dramatic and 1800s themed birthday ball, started into a familiar tune, Alex threw a challenging look in Lafayette’s direction striding confidently into the centre of dancefloor, curling into position as the Frenchman joined him, pulling Alex into his chest;
I remember the days, of just keeping time
As the music trickled down to the pair, they slowly spun into action, Lafayette leading as their bodies seem to melt together, their steps light, yet still gliding effortlessly, avoiding fumblingly couples as they mirrored each other perfectly.
The other party goers stared as they both leaned into the music, Alex’s smaller figure arching backwards as they counter-balanced each other ever-so-slightly – turning steps where as one person turned, the other would replace where they left immediately, Alex’s head laying lightly on Lafayette’s collar-bones as they spun, a seamless figure hitting each-step of the music.
As the music began to dwindle again, slowly the dancers began to cease turning, their spins morphing into a sway as they lost momentum, standing up straight as the last note caught, tantalisingly in the air, before fading away.
Amidst the newly formed crowed, Alex grinned smugly, the edges softening into something fond as Lafayette leant in to murmur in his ear;
“Ahh, mon petite lion, you surpassed all expectation.”
3.
“Why do you never draw yourself?”
John Laurens looked up from the book he was reading, casting his gaze upon Alex, who was lying on his stomach, feet in the air, wearing a shirt that was long enough to be a dress, draping over his shoulders and extending past his hands, flicking through a familiar, worn sketch book.
“I don’t know, Alexander, it’s just easier to draw you guys, and I’m not, easily to draw? Like my eyes are hooded and weird, and my chin is flat but still pointed somehow and wonky and my cheek-bones make less appearances than sun in Britain?”
Cocking his head thoughtfully, Alex dragged himself up to John, who placed his book facedown a distance away, an intrigued glint in his eye as he stared warily back at Alex.
Slowly beginning to trace the valleys of John’s face lightly, Alex started whispering so softy, crooning almost;
“I love, the colour of your eyes, they are golden yet still hold the green of spring in them,, I wish I could paint every wall in my life, that colour.”
“What?”
“I love your freckles – I have never seen someone as tan as you have freckles, and they melt into your skin, fading just near your brilliant, bright eyes.
I love your chin, and the way it’s just a little longer and thinner than the jaw so when you smile, it literally takes up your whole face, but most of all”
“Oh?” Johns breathed hitched in a heartbreaking hopefully expression
“I love this head, because it protects the purest, most intelligent and kindest brain, which holds a stunning, loving mind within it.”
Drawing away from John’s molten heat, Alexander left the room, running a reassuring hand through John’s wild ringlets as he babbled about returning in a second, leaving a slightly breathless John Laurens in his wake, a gently hand curling around his own jaw which he just knew had the very same smile Alex gushed about, spread across it.
Stumbling footsteps drew John’s attention as Alex halted bashfully at the door, hand behind him holding something.
“’Lex, darling, what do you have there?”
Drawing the boy forward slowly, he closed his hand around the notebook? Clutched in Alex’s hands, and gently pulled it out of anxious fingers, not even looking at the item until he was sat back down, this time with Alex cradled in his lap, the strands escaping his braid gently brushing the bottom of John’s chin.
Opening the first page of the sketchbook, John shuffled through powder covered pages, graphite puffing up as he went through parks and gardens and cities until he stopped dead on the picture of a man.
It had been done with more detail than the others, but it wasn’t the extra care taken that so shocked him, more so than the stunning nature of the man, a crooked jaw, locks of hair curling and framing his face, sloped eyes that seemed to share the brightness of his grin - him, he realised.
“Did.. did you do these, ‘Lex darling? They’re stunning.”
Alex’s nose traced a line down John’s arm in a soft, singular nod,
“You’re th’t pretty Jo’n”
“and you’re, just, kind of incredible,, Alex”
The whispered praise fell in a blanket of pure warmth onto the 2 men, who entwined further as they drifted off to sleep.
4.
It was no secret that Alexander Hamilton refused to take care of himself, not eating, sleeping, or y’know, interacting in general, however whatever was happening how, George Washington confessed to himself, seemed to be a brutal mixture of all three that were really not agreeing with Alexander.
Dark circles draped under the boy’s eyes as he wrote fervently in one of the multiple books surrounding him. The TA had already single-handedly completed marking over 40K words of written essays for his class, and was now onto some form of accounting, if the gridded books and scattered equations were anything to go by. Sighing lightly, George grabbed his phone, keeping an eye on Alex as he began to text.
Gwash : Boys, you might need to collect Hamilton – He’s not looking good.
Cowardly Lion : I thought he’d almost finished those essays last night?
Antoinette : S a m e
Gwash: Yea he did, but now he’s still working and I didn’t know he was doing accounting?
Antoinette : s A M E ?
Mr Scribbles : o H No
Cowardly Lion : JOhn do you think
Mr Scribbles : yes I do
Cowardly Lion : o shit
Cowardly Lion : We’ll be there in 10.
7 minutes later Hercules Mulligan strode into the office, John Laurens smiling apologetically at the departing George as he and Lafayette swept in behind the man. In a flawlessly executed movement, John snatched out Alex’s book from under his hand, Lafayette grabbing the pen from tired fingers as Hercules swept the boy up from his office chair.
“oUR TAXES? Alex, you knew we were going to sit down and do these together?” scolded Laurens in indignant shock, waving the note-filled book around.
“Yea, but, I can do them, and you have st’ff to do?”
Lauren’s stiff posture softened as he looked Alex, the boy unsure in his weariness. Momentarily relenting, he sighed, deciding to give Alex a momentary reprieve.
“C’mon, let’s go home.”
Hauling the boy up into his arms, Hercules walked slower out of the room, sharing a commiserating glance with Angelica as she looked up from her desk, gliding over as she fondly stroked through Alex’s hair.
“He’ll be going home now?”
“Oui,” cut in Lafayette softly, nodding in farewell to Angelica as the boys sombrely made their way home.
_______________
Furrowing his brows in concern, Hercules gently soothed Hamilton awake, John and Lafayette sending reassuring glances in his direction as the fumbling boy sprawled across him rubbed at his mouth anxiously, slowly blinking awake.
“Hey Sweetpea, we just want to ask some questions,”
John hated the fact they’d had to disturb one of Alex’s rare moments of sleep, but he had no filter in this state, and they needed answers.
“Shush, it’s okay, yeah, you’re okay – We just wanted to know why you were doing all those Taxes by yourself darling, we were planning to do them together.”
“B’t, I knoooow th’ taxes ‘n stuff” Alex slurred adorably, a tiny scowl set in his face as Hercules interrupted with more insistent questioning,
“Yeah but you were so tired, you could’ve rested with us babe,”
“bUT th’ taxes wouldn’t wait for my sleep, ‘n you guys w’r right without me, right?”
3 incredulous stares were shot down to Alex as he arch he head backward at the absence of a response.
“I’m jus’ a mess and it’s easier wh’n I’m not crawling all ov’r you, right?”
As Alex started to resurface, Lafayette startled back into action, carding his hands through Alex’s mane until he fell back asleep.
“We’ll fix this, mes amies, non, we will not let his insecurities catch us unware anymore.”
5.
As Alex rubbed at his eyes sleepily, a flapping sound make him startle awake, a thick piece of card now laying on the floor drawing his attention as stretched across the bed to curiously open it.
Dear Alexander Hamilton,
It has come to our attention that your opinion of yourself is lower than that of an acceptable standard, however as is the duty, of Boyfriends1 , we have prepared a series of short verses defending your worth as member This Relationship2
From their spot outside the partially - opened door, Lafayette, Hercules and John peeked out, anxious of the boy swaddled by sheets and too-large sweaters.
“You guys can write?!” called Alex, not at all unaware of their presence, before drawing his lips through his teeth and resuming the letter.
When you smile, the sun itself burns in envy of your brightness. Your enthusiasm is like that of a 2 year-old – More genuine than the purest of crystals, however 2 hundred year olds would crave the wisdom that your incredible mind holds.
Your hair, notre amour, is silk of a higher quality than the most expensive coat, and your eyes hleam so bright they dull the surrounding stars. Your gaze, which you lay upon us, is more expensive than swaths of satin, and the joy you gain from our presence is reciprocated ten-fold when we are in yours.
Your hands move with the speed and delicacy of which a hummingbird would flit with jealously, and your mouth blesses the words it speaks. Even when clumsy and tripping over syllables, your mouth savours each consonant and vowel, drawing them out until they are richer than the finest of wines.
Your presence, however, is a gift greater than that which god could bestow upon us. Your absence a missing instrument in an orchestra. You are the soil, the sun, the earth and the flowers of this relationship. We only hope to keep you in as vibrant a condition as you insist keeping us to.
Waiting until he finished, the boys smiled at their drowsy companion until the sound of Alex’s hitched breaths reached them. Leaping into action, they sprung onto to the bed, curling around him and drawing him into their midst.
“I’m sorry guys, I get it, I get it,”
Murmuring reassurance, they shushed Alex into silence, grinning at eachother, reading the last few lines in a harmony between each voices melodies;
You are our counterweight, and our balance. The sun to our moon, and the final link in the chain of us