Work Text:
1780.
Lafayette was in a particular clingy mood that day.
He didn't understand why—but he woke up wanting to specifically cling to one of his best friends, Alexander Hamilton. He didn't want it to be John Laurens or Hercules Mulligan, his other friends, purely his little Lion.
So, he did.
Lafayette sat up from his cot, wiping the tiredness from his eyes before standing up. He was on a mission. A very important one. He couldn't waste time. He needed to find his Lion.
He walked out of his tent and started heading towards Alexander’s. Each step he took was filled with quiet determination of the need for emergency cuddles.
Lafayette figured Alexander would be in his tent. It was dawn, after all. Almost every other soldier was. If not there, probably with Washington somewhere. (Though, he obviously wouldn't disturb him if he was with the General).
When the Frenchman reached his friend's tent, he called out,
"Alex, can I come in?"
Alexander perked up from inside the room. He had just woken up a few minutes ago. He recognized that thick French accent anywhere; it was one of his favorite people along with John and Hercules.
Alexander smiled warmly to himself. "Yes, Laf. You can come in." He responded softly. That gentle tone was instinctive—only reserved for his wife, Eliza, and his friends.
Lafayette's heart fluttered at the yes. He pushed the tent flap open with one hand, stepping inside.
Without a word, the Frenchman walked over to Alexander—his sweet Lion—and hugged him gently yet firmly, not giving him the option to pull away if he wanted to.
Alexander chuckled awkwardly—not uncomfortable, just surprised. It wasn't every day Lafayette hugged him first thing in the morning out of the blue.
Nonetheless, he patted Lafayette's back, not embracing back yet, though. "Laf, you okay?" He asked, only half concerned while his tone was mostly playful amusement.
Lafayette nodded, burying his face in Alexander’s shoulder. "Mhm." He hummed in response before pressing a kiss—a platonic one—on his cheek.
The aide-de-camp's heart swelled at the kiss. He involuntarily grinned a tad bit wider. "Just wanted a hug?" He teased, finally returning the embrace.
Again, the other man didn't bother responding verbally. He just nodded again against Alexander’s shoulder.
A beat.
Then another.
Lafayette was still latched onto him like a child with a stuffed animal, clearly having no intention of letting go any time soon.
Alexander’s smile morphed into one of uncomfortablility. He didn't expect this—Lafayette clinging to him way longer than he should've for a simple hug.
"You know, you can let go." He broke the silence, not unkindly.
A pout formed on the Major General's lips. He only tightened his grip on his friend—not enough to hurt—but as a silent protest. "Mmmh... Non."
Alexander momentarily paused. No?
"No?" He repeated, confused.
"Non." Lafayette said stubbornly without hesitation.
Alexander blinked, still perplexed. "Why, 'no'?"
"Because I want to keep hugging you." Lafayette explained as if that were obvious. (Judging by his smothering behavior, it was).
Alexander forced a chuckle. "You sure you're alright? You've never hugged me this long before."
"Yes, mon ami, I'm fine. Now keep hugging me." He spoke.
Alexander rolled his eyes at Lafayette's demand. Lord, what was up with him today?
Needless to say, he didn't complain further and just kept his arms around the Major General's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.
"Why didn't you go to John or Hercules?" Alexander asked in curiosity, not judging.
"I wanted to only hug mon petite Lion right now." The Frenchman said, leaning his head up from Alexander’s shoulder and kissing his forehead.
The aide-de-camp giggled at the kiss. "Awe,"
"I love you, mon Lion."
"I love you too, Laf."