Being Loyal To Evil Is Easy, Young Man; Revolting Against It Is Harder.

Chapter 6

"Found them," Alexander said wryly. The group turned and saw King, immediately pointing their guns at the British brat.

"Oh~ No no no. I have the gun pointed at your leader, so put the guns down or I shoot." King said this in such a sickly sweet manner that it took all of Alexander's might not to dry heave.

The Revolutionaries were not that stupid and, as previously stated, were actually quite brilliant. So they shot the single most dangerous man in the town, and alerted the Loyalists that they had found their leader.

"Ta ta~" Alexander spat in the teen's face. John cried out after the noise emitted from one of the soldier's guns died down. They found John moments later hidden behind a pole. With that, Alexander and his army scurried out of the sewer, Alexander slowed by John's weight.

***

John was thankfully unharmed, meaning all of the revolutionaries were free to go home.

"Get home safe, everybody." The others thanked Alexander for the sentiment, and left. John stayed.

"Thanks for saving me, Alexander." John drew out the name for an unnecessarily long time before blowing him a kiss and saying his goodbyes.

"See you later, Laurens," Alexander called to the freckled teen. Laurens mumbled something inaudible back before turning into the next block.

Alexandrr, who was very happy to have rescued his friend, excitedly drove home and, idiotically, not thinking of the consequences.

***

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING," roared Washington. He took in a deep breath and forced himself to refrain from yelling at his only, and secretly fragile, son. "Sorry, but you were a on a motorcycle with a gun. Do you understand how dangerous that sounds... And you went back to those sewers? Oh, don't look at me like that, one of my friends was there and texted me that my son had just gone into a manhole with a gun. Not a very common sight for him."

A blush was still covering Alexander's gace when he decided to speak up.

"I'm... I'm really sorry, dad. They- The Loyalists- had John! And don't suggest police again, as we shot their leader because," Alexander realized how frightened George would be if he found out the reason. "You know what, nevermind. Um... Anyway, police and me and all my friends get arrested. I know you're an ex-senator and ex-governor, but can you break the rules for me? Just once?" Alexander showed Washington the puppy eyes.

"Fine."

Alexander's momentarily sad eyes almost immediately became filled with joy at the single spoken word.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, tHANK YOU!" Towards the end, when Alexander started yelling, George cringed and sat on the couch.
After he hugged and kissed his father, Alexander got a call. It was from Laurens.

"Sorry dad, gotta take this," he shouted as he ran over to his room.

The door was slammed, and then the call was answered.

"Alexander," John sobbed. The phone clattered to the floor and Alexander raced to pick it up.

"John? John, what's wrong?" Though he had little reason to, Alexander Hamilton was freaking out.

"I'm lonely, c-come get a drink with me at the bar."

Alexander's face of realization was priceless. John, who drank a lot more than he should for an underage teen, was a sad drunk. He would feel lonely even if he was surrounded by the Revolutionaries.

The teen shook his head at the phone, which essentially did nothing as his correspondent could not see him.

"Pleaaaaaaaaase," John dragged out the word as if that would help.

"Fine." Alexander had a tendency to act similarly to his father when agreeing to something he didn't want to do, and it was showing.

Alexander told Laurens that he would be there in ten minutes, as their favorite bar, The Yorktown Battle, was only five minutes away from his house on foot.

***

Five minutes of getting dressed later, Alexander exited his room in style. He was sporting a tight green shirt, a beanie, and a pair of leather pants that hugged his ass very nicely. Alexander carefully made sure to stop by his father's room as to tell him that he was leaving.

"Where're you going in that outfit," George asked.

"John's, daddy." Washington rolled his eyes at the nickname.

"Don't call me that, son-"

"I'm notcha son," Alexander replied swiftly. It was a routine joke between the two of them. However, it wasn't too funny for Washington this time.

"That joke isn't funny when you're trying to talk dirty to your father."

"You're thirteen years older than me. It would make more sense if we were siblings, and adopted sibs can date."

"Enough," George said, disregarding Alexander's argument completely. "Just go to John's. Now." Alexander, who had only experienced Washington's wrath once before, scurried out of the room and through the front door without a backward glance.

Once the door was shut and locked, Alexander laughed. He had always felt that Washington was attractive, and though George did act fatherly towards him, Alexander didn't really consider Washington his father. Alexander's father was a dick that deserved to be dead, and George did not deserve to be dead.

He nearly walked into someone because of the thoughts he was contemplating, and when he looked up to apologize, Alexander saw that he had reached his destination.

The Yorktown Battle shone in bright letters above where Alexander stood.

"Sorry," he mumbled to the drunk he'd bumped into. The man's response was a bunch of jumbled up curse words, but Alexander decided to ignore the man and go straight inside. When the bouncer gave Alexander his fake ID back, he was met with a terrible sight.

There, in the middle of the room, was Thomas Jefferson. The man was also scantily clad; wearing snug magenta pants, a crop top with a phrase reading "IF YOU DON'T KNOW NOW YOU KNOW" on it, Converse, and a smirk. He was also wearing James Madison on his hips and his lips.

"John," Alexander called out, voice breaking. "J-John, wHERE ARE YOU!"

Burr, who was wearing his school clothing, appeared out of nowhere and greeted Alexander. He was, fortunately, not drunk.

"Being designated driver sucks," Burr mumbled as he dragged Alexander by the arm. He was led into a corner where the illusive Laurens was plastered on the booth like a teenage girl on her boyfriend.

"Aleeeeeex," he whined out, beckoning for the man to come sit with him. Alexander sat down, only then noticing that he had tear stains on his face.

"Let's get mOTHERFUCKING WASTED!!!"

AN:
NOOOO ALEXANDER MY CHILD YOUR THOUGHTS ARE IMPURE, AND ABOUT THYNE FATHER!!!! ok but tbh i ship jamilton/jeffilton highkey and i ship whamilton/hamilwash lowkey