Our Little Secret ||Historical Lams Oneshots||

I Love You

as requested by Detentionforme
I'M RUNNING OUT OF PICTURES HELP

I still remember when Alexander first confessed he loved me. We were at a tavern one night with Lafayette, Tilghman, and Meade. Sometimes I forget it really happened, and it feels rather like a fading dream I had just woken up from.

The tavern hummed with the sound of drunken rambles and metal clinking. I had barely touched my drink, but most of my companions were on their second pint.

"Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide!" Alexander was reciting, one foot on the round table we occupied and the other on his chair, his cup raised high above his head. "The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! Here's to my love!" He looked me straight in the eye as he took a swig from his beer and swooned; fell backwards as though dying. The four of them roared with laughter and scattered applause.

"Aye, my friend, you of all people could quote Shakespeare drunk!" Tench exclaimed, laying an arm across Alex's shoulders. The latter's cheeks were flushed as he took the praise, but his eyes were still on mine, shining.

Lafayette nudged my shoulder with his. "Our friend Alexander is quite the thing, is he not?" he asked. I nodded and looked down, face burning. I took a small sip from my glass.

They laughed again, but at what I was oblivious to. "As much as I would like to continue our escapade, I have some business I must conduct with our dear Laurens here," Alex said, face pink and still crinkled from humor. "If you would pardon us for a moment." He stood and motioned for me to come with him.

He led me outside and around the corner of the brick building, the voices fading and becoming a low murmur on the wind. "What did you need, Alexander?" I asked, my tone oddly formal.

His eyes dulled and I immediately felt regret on my words. "John, I need to tell you something..." he started. "I just don't know how."

This is what took me by surprise: Alexander Hamilton being at a loss for words.

"It doesn't matter how you say it," I tried to reassure him. "Just tell me."

"Oh, God, but I- I can't just tell you, I-"  He cut himself off by taking a sharp inhale. "I love you, John Laurens."

I panicked. "Alex, you're like a brother, I l-"

"No," he huffed. "I love you. More than a friend, more than a brother, even. By God, I've loved you ever since I first saw you. You and your quiet strength, your piercing eyes that always seem to be watching everything, and your recklessness and willingness to fight, no matter the cost. I love it, all of it... and I love you."

My mouth opens, closes. I had figured this, but it still shocked me, hearing him say it aloud. We already share a bed, holding each other through the night. We've looked at each other in ways no two friends ever should, but it's in lust, desire, not love. At least, I haven't noticed any flickers of love.

But, then again, how had I not noticed? How had I not taken his lingering touches, his uncharacteristic silences, his blushing, into consideration? How had I thought them to be only in jest?

"John? Say something, please."

But I can't. I stand there, stupidly gaping at what he had just told me. His face falls. "I'm sorry, Laurens, just forget I said anything." he mutters. I hate hearing the dejected hint to his voice.

So I do the only logical thing I can think of.

I kiss him.

He makes a soft sound of surprise before melting into it, his beer-tinged lips moving gently against mine.

We've kissed before, once, but it was rash and after the heat of battle, the both of us desiring any contact. This was different. This was slow, tender, sweet. Genuine affection behind the forbidden act.

That was when I realized I, too, had fallen in love.

And now I lay next to Alexander, gazing longingly at him as he sleeps, the blankets rising and falling with each breath he takes. I touch the side of his face gently and brush a ginger wave out of it so I have a clearer view of him, continuing to stroke his cheek and along his jawline.

The moonlight filtering through the canvas softens his sharp features, making him appear even younger than he is. He's like an ethereal presence, a bright thing in this dark, dark world.

"Alex, I know this is probably stupid of me, considering you're asleep," I find myself saying, my voice barely above a whisper, sitting up slowly. "But you should know this. You are my dearest friend, and in saying so, you know what I imply. You mean more to me than you should, you know this as well. And it scares me to know that I care about you in a way I should a woman," I hesitate. "I don't have anything near your eloquence for words, so I'm just going to say it outright.

"I love you."

And—I don't know how I didn't notice it before—Alexander's eyes are opened, big, sparkling, and staring up at me like two sapphires. "I love you too." he says, smiling and with a tear rolling down the side of his face.

My face goes red. "You- you heard all of that, didn't you." It's not question; I know he did. He launches himself onto me, his arms wrapped around my neck and his face in my shoulder. I return the embrace tentatively, still in shock that he heard my confession.

"John, you needn't be ashamed of how you feel," he says, voice muffled, as if sensing my discomfort. "You're perfect."

And I don't even remember it being initiated, but his mouth is suddenly on mine and I'm melting into its sweet touch, forgetting about the wrongness of the endearment. We fall back onto the pillows, still latched onto each other and whispering three words into the darkness every time we break for air.

"I love you."

i almost rewrote this because i had another idea but i decided to just screw it, this is fine