Coffee (Lams)

Chapter 23 (The Wedding Reception Where It Happens)

(I don't like this, but I actually wrote this during intermediate music theory, rest hour, and the void where orchestra used to be, all without the usual luxury of editing. "Ffffuh...amily camp pacing!"- MithRou) (Edit: still hate this. Still didn't edit it. Still don't really want to post this. Doing it anyway. Sorry.)

Laurens was decidedly not drunk. He'd thought it over, and realized that it'd be better if he stayed sober for the entire reception. It was hard, though. He was currently sitting in a chair around the first table with Hercules, Lafayette, Burr, Jefferson, and by extension, Madison, and... Alexander Hamilton himself. Laurens had tried to make small talk with him, and they'd talked for a while, but they'd run out of material fairly quickly, and had trailed off. Laurens rested his elbows on the table, placing his head in his hands. He was tired, and he needed a freaking drink.

A drink was placed in front of him. He looked up.
"Hamilton? How'd you know that I wanted a drink?"
"You've been... you've been talking to yourself." Hamilton answers, sitting back down.
Oops.
Laurens takes a sizable swig of beer, sighing contentedly.
"Thanks, man." He says finally, after downing half the glass.
"So, now that you're done brooding, why don't you tell me something?" Hamilton asks, voice barely above a whisper as he leans closer to Laurens, "Why'd you kiss me and then just ignore me for two months?"
There it was, the question Laurens had been dreading.
"Well, I guess I avoided you because I was scared of the consequences, but the first part was because... because... you know what? Heartfelt confessions just aren't my forte. Because this, Alex."
Laurens grabbed Hamilton by the lapels of his suit jacket, yanking him forward off of his chair. Hamilton was able to let out a yelp of surprise before Laurens kissed him, which attracted the attention of  their table. Laurens thought he heard Jefferson's trademark scandalized gasp in the distance, but most of his senses were gone. He could feel the softness of Hamilton's lips and the smooth fabric of his suit jacket, and he could smell a combination of dry shampoo and sandalwood cologne, but all other senses were unneeded, and therefore, useless.
Although Laurens wished that this moment would last forever, he reluctantly loosened his grip on Hamilton's lapels, and pulled back. Hamilton stared back down at him, a smile creeping onto his face as he raised a tentative hand to his lips.
"Jeez, who's wedding is it, right!" Hercules joked, making Lafayette giggle.
"You're not drink this time, right?" Hamilton whispered.
"One, you were drunk too, asshole; and two, you really think a half a glass of beer is gonna get me drunk? What do you take me for, a fucking lightweight? Please." Laurens answered, matching Hamilton's volume.
A door slammed in the distance, which made Hamilton and Laurens look up. Jefferson and Madison were gone.
"Well; Jefferson claimed that you guys were making him sick, and said that he felt like he was going to vomit up a couple hours worth of hors d'oeuvres, and left. Madison ran after him. Didn't even give an excuse. Ten bucks says they're-" Lafayette explained.
"We are not betting on that." Hercules cut him off. Lafayette looked clearly disappointed, although he put away his money.
Laurens and Hamilton looked at each other while Hercules and Lafayette bickered on the other side of the table.
"So, what are we?" Hamilton asked.
"I think we might have to see." Laurens answered, lacing fingers with Hamilton and surveying the scene. This wasn't the place to make important decisions, they were here for Hercules and Lafayette, after all.