Hamilton One Shots

Heated

"Sir, actions need to be taken. There's not another moment to lose and you must move forward on the field or-"

Cutting himself short, the young lieutenant, Alexander, watched in surprise as his commander strolled out of the tent. He felt his throat tighten up and all he wanted to do was punch something.

He had spent hours planning that and it just went to waste with a swish of the General's glorious cape.

"Dammit," he whispered under his breath. His hands curled up into fists, as he muttered the profanity. Washington spoke of how swearing wasn't appropriate in his army. Isn't walking out on someone just as inappropriate, he thought to himself, as he bit his lip tightly.

No one ever listened. Everything he threw out in the open like a scarlet letter in the wind was just snatched from his reach. Torn apart like his entire life. Clutching his chest with one hand, Alexander let out a growl and slammed his body against a shelf.

Please, he begged silently, feeling the side of his face beginning to throb uncontrollably.

Only droplets of blood appeared on his cheekbone. But it wasn't enough for the soldier. He began to heave himself to his feet when the sound of crunching footsteps neared the tent.

Sunlight streamed in and blinded him briefly before he recognized the visitor. "John," he cried in relief. His friend paused in the opening of the tent, looking around to find the voice and it's body.

The moment he spotted Alexander curled up by the shelf, his eyes widened instinctively.

Without speaking, Laurens practically sprinted across the tent and collapsed beside the other man. Uncomfortably shifting around, he let his friend exclaim all that happened.

"I'm useless here, aren't I? All that comes out of my mouth is taken as an insult against this entire army and I-"

John placed his hand over his friend's mouth, letting him shrink down at the touch. "You know that's not true. Washington values your information and word just as much as any other person. You're getting awfully worked up over something so pointless."

"Pointless?" Muffled by the sweaty palm on his mouth, Alexander tried to say anything to bring himself higher on the invisible podium he always challenged himself with. He tried scrambling to his feet, feeling too close to Laurens, who hadn't let go yet.

But the second he backed up, someone outside the tent laughed loudly. Threatened by the sound of someone being so close to finding them in such a position, Alexander pushed himself further across the grass covered floor.

John chuckled, clearing pleasing himself with the amount of control he had. Not bothered by the noises of protest his friend made, he kept his hand pressed against the mouth, as well as the upper thigh.

Alexander gave him a helpless look, face turning a blossoming red. With Laurens in control, the situation could be taken in any possible direction.

"You need to learn how to not be such a fool all the time. Washington could have ignored your speech because he's tired of you throwing yourself into the open. Bite your tongue, if you must." Laurens taunted his significant other by tracing a finger down the front of his jacket.

No, please. Alexander let out an involuntary moan, praying that no one decided to walk in at that moment. He couldn't be caught plastered to the floor of his tent, breathless, and in the clutches of another lieutenant.