HAMILTON ONESHOTS!!!

#Born sick (part 1)

Summary:
a drafty dorm room and two broke university students during an icy winter. (bonus! hinted polyamorous hijinks!!)

Type: #fluff# (mild)

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens

Chapter 1/?

Title: boys workin on empty

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On the precipice of absolute destruction and fulfilling completion, Alexander Hamilton's life teeters on the resilient edge of dumb luck. And strong coffee.

Make no mistake, while to others he may appear to be an impressive albeit chaotic tightrope walker, in his own mind his life is currently free falling off a cliff. Stumbling full force into a hurricane, a storm to end all storms.

But he lives off of the chaos. The uncertainty. The destruction, completion.

Alexander's eyes sting with the need of sleep, but he rubs them awake anyway. The laptop in front of him washes his face in a bright glow and gives him an excruciating headache, but he wills it to work anyway. His entire body gives a shiver as he adjusts his blanket to hug him tighter, finding solace in its embrace. It's cold. It's always cold. Especially during early November-when the leaves have already shriveled up and died, when frost is beginning to kiss pavements and creep across cars, misty whispers twinkling in the air.

Apart from being a full-time law student, working two shitty paying part-time jobs, and volunteering twice a week as a high school tutor, Alexander is also conducting his own research. Reading books, writing essays, interviewing the willing participant. He has big dreams, afterall. And a foolish sense of confidence. The two things that'll take men far in this world. He wants to start his own law firm. An establishment that'll do things differently, address and work toward abolishing all the corruption and prejudice currently rampant in the business. A task simply too large for one man to handle alone. And too idealistic. But what is life if not a collection of ideals we hold as law, as object?

"Alex." The groggy voice comes from the pile of pillows on the bed parallel to his. "Go to bed." His tone is assertive and a little exasperated, no doubt tired of the constant click of laptop keys. "Soon." Alexander responds dismissively. The pile twists and wriggles some until John Laurens pops out from underneath. "You already said that the last twenty times!" His cheeks and nose are dusted pink and he clings to his sheets. Cold, always cold. His wild, curly hair is tied back into a sleep-mused bun and his freckle-ridden countenance is one of annoyance. "Go. To. Bed." It's a demand now, challenge sparks across the room, flaring in the silence, the only source of imaginary heat to be found in this damn cheap dorm. The eye contact they share is electrically dull, like an almost fused bulb, an almost dead fire. Heat tempered by exhaustion. Alexander sighs, giving in. It is two am and he does have an early start tomorrow.

"Fine." He concedes, saving the document he was scrawling away at and shutting his laptop down.

Alexander wakes up at six am, a whole thirty minutes, he realizes triumphantly, before his alarm. He turns it off so it doesn't bother John and gathers his cleanest looking clothes off the floor before making his way to the bathroom. The dorm he currently shares with three of his closest friends is surprisingly decent for its price; two small bedrooms, one cramped bathroom, and an adequate living room/kitchenette hybrid. The only major downside that this place has is how devastatingly cold it gets during the winter. The walls are paper thin and drafty as hell. And so are the only cheap clothes and blankets Hamilton can afford.

He steps out of the (cold) shower and races the icy air to throw on his hoodie and sweatpants. In no universe would Alexander be able to afford a hairdryer let alone have enough money to cover the bill using it every day would cost, so the black locks that he pulls up into a ponytail will have to air dry. He sighs as he squeezes out the last bit of toothpaste the poor contorted tube is able to provide before tossing it into the trash, adding toothpaste onto the mental list of amenities he needs to buy once his paychecks roll in. (He should also get a new toothbrush, how long has he had this one? One month-two-three?)