Hamilton Oneshots

angst lol // Leebury

"I-I can't believe you!" Charles said, through tears. Samuel was also in tears as he reached out to his boyfriend. Charles stepped away, not letting Samuel touch him.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to find out like this!" Samuel said. Charles' face held nothing but disbelief.

"Get out of my house, you fucking liar," Charles cried out.

"Can we talk this out? Please?" Samuel pleaded. Charles softened a little before going ridged again.

"No, how can I trust you?" Charles asked, stepped further away. Samuel frowned a little, taking a step closer.

"I never lied when I said I love you... If I didn't, why would I remember that you love watching the rain, but hate chunky peanut butter. Or how you can fall asleep on the porch under the stars, but can't sleep through me trying to carry you in?" Samuel said.

"...But you fucking told the plans given to me to the British army. That just threw my trust out the goddamn window and ran it over," Charles said, letting anger fill his betrayal.

"...If it makes anything better, here's the letter I was supposed to send about your Yorktown plans..." Samuel muttered, placing an envelope on the coffee table. Charles raised an eyebrow as he carefully opened it. He read it over, growing more upset by the word.

"Oh my God, is this why you asked what I thought the weak points were?! I can't fucking believe you!!" Charles said, ripping the letter.

"...Was ripping it needed?" Samuel asked, slightly scared.

"Yes! I can't just let years of my life go to waste because my 'boyfriend' was a spy! I don't even know if you're really named Samuel! For all I know, you can be called Horatio or something weird!" Charles said. He dropped the paper and let his hand fly up to his hair.

"...I'm really named Samuel, I didn't lie about that..." Samuel said, feeling ashamed of himself.

"Just get the hell out, I can't fucking stand to see you after this," Charles said, pointing back to the door.

"...Can I kiss you? Just once? I want to remember the feeling forever," Samuel said, looking slightly hopeful.

"No. Get out," Charles said coldly. Samuel felt his heart shatter more than it did 2 hours ago when Charles found his letters. That led down to the path of what he lied to Charles about. How he was no longer a loyalist. How he only asked questions to hear Charles talk. How he was writing to his mother in Connecticut. How he went to church every Sunday.

Every one of those was a lie. He was paid to find the plans to give to British militia. He asked questions for more details for his letters. His mother was dead and he sent every letter to a general who would live close to the battle. He met up with other loyalists every Sunday to discuss what was happening.

Everything seemed to speed by and happen too slowly at the same time. The cold stare from Charles, the walk to his friend's apartment. Even the entire night, dreams, hopes of Charles running to him, forgiving him, and everything returning to normal, minus the part where he sold the plans. The slow, romantic kisses they would share while half asleep. The light touches Charles would give when Samuel had woken up and made breakfast for the two.

But between the tears and final cold stare Charles gave, there was no way Samuel gain his trust again. Charles had admitted that he had trust issues, mostly stemming from when he was younger. And now Samuel must've added to that. That was what made Samuel feel bad, he knew that if he were to be found out, he'd add to the cracks and tears that Charles had.

Now, he was laying in a guest bedroom bed, tightly clinging to the shirt he had taken from Charles. It was all he had left. All that he would ever have.