Lyrical Abstraction (Hamilton) [on hiatus]

Chapter 1

John Laurens had never been happier in his life than right at this moment. He'd been on about it for months now and never in his life had he expected any of this. The ten year anniversary for him and his husband, Alexander. He could barely focus on finishing his surprise for Alex with all the excitement buzzing through his veins. His fingers were tingling and his cheeks were flushing. He stuck out his tongue in concentration, dragging his brush across the the almost filled out canvas, the picture coming together stroke by stroke. He'd worked on it for days, it had to be amazing for this occasion, and despite knowing his husband would be happy no matter how much he slaved over getting it right, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect to the T.

It was a painting of them.

Them, at their wedding. They never got any pictures, they couldn't, so now John would have to paint one for them. It had been a small and secret ceremony, only their closest friends had been invited and they'd hired a priest that was willing to wed them. They had to be so low-key about the wedding that it was held at their house. It had been a mess in the start but they had gotten it together in the end and it was the best day of their lives. At least John though so. Their wedding had been the only day competing to this one but nevertheless, John was mostly excited about tomorrow. Ten whole years they'd spent waking up in each other's arms, ten whole years spent always by each other's side. Tomorrow would be special. Tomorrow be would good.

John smiled at himself as he finished the last few details. All this hard work was going to pay off, he knew it. He imagined Alexander's smiling face, his shining eyes, the kiss they'd share. He felt warm inside at the thought, to think it had really been ten years already. He put the finishing touch on his painting and giggled to himself at it. It brought back so many wonderful memories. He looked down at his hand and smiled at the ring there. He quickly wiped his eyes from gathering tears and took a last glance at the painting. Tomorrow.

He got up from his chair and put the painting away in case Alex would walk into his studio. He sighed to himself and looked at the time. It was nearing midnight, no wonder he was getting tired. He broke into another smile. Tomorrow he'd wake up and he'd show Alex the painting and everything would be good for them.

-

Today was the day. John had told Alex he'd be out shopping for a bit when in reality he was in his studio, preparing himself. Different scenarios flew through his mind. Alex would be happy, Alex would be disappointed, Alex, Alex, Alex. In the end, he thought, Alex would be happy, he knew that. Alex had always loved John's paintings and had saved every single one he was gifted and treasured it, even when John was just starting out and his paintings weren't the best. He was giddy, absolutely ecstatic and he couldn't stop fidgeting as he sat impatiently in his studio, waiting for the right moment. Everything had to be perfect including the timing and if he was impatient with the painting, waiting to give it to Alex was even worse. He tapped his foot repeatedly looking around for what would have been the sixteenth time before finally deciding that now was the perfect moment. He took a breath to relax himself before grabbing the painting and making his way to their bedroom.

The small trip to their bedroom felt crudely long and John shivered with anticipation.

Why was he still nervous? They'd been married for ten years, knew everything about each other, and still Alexander managed to get him flustered and god did John love that man. Alex was something different, always moving in all directions, always doing something, yet always took a break for John's sake, always calmed down and took time. John had never been this happy with someone before. Alex  felt like safety, like love, like home, and if this painting didn't express that then John didn't know what else would.

The bedroom door was open. A little off, John thought, he was sure he closed it, but whatever. Alex could as well have opened it. There were noises from the bedroom, and fine, John thought, Alex had woken up and was probably reading aloud to himself as he typed on his computer. Nothing new, nothing strange. But then he started to listen in on the noises. They weren't furious typing. They weren't mumbling. They were moans. And while it wasn't exactly what John had expected for a surprise, who was he to complain?

The sight that met him though, was not what he expected. At all. No, instead, he found another man, Thomas fucking Jefferson of all people, in bed with his husband. John's eyes widened before filling with tears. He clutched the painting tightly.

"Alex..?"

And now it was Alexander who was in for a surprise. He stared horrified at John before scrambling to cover himself.

"J-John- I-I thought you went shopping?" he tried lamely, stumbling over his words and himself as he made his way to John, covered in only the duvet.

"I-I was preparing your surprise... Alex what is this..?" John asked, his voice quivering as tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

"John, it's not what it looks like, I was just-" Alexander couldn't even finish his sentence. The look of pure betrayal on John's face was more than enough to shut him up. John began to really take in how Alex looked. He was a mess. His hair was a birds nest, his face was flushed, he was wearing nothing but that stupid duvet that John would now have to burn, he had purple marks littering his neck and chest, and looking behind Alex, John could see the case was the same for Jefferson.

"Are you- are you... cheating on me..?" John whimpered in almost a whisper and Alex's eyes went wider.

"No, no, no, this- I-I can explain, John!" he tried, putting his hand on John's shoulder, but John slapped it away.

"Ten years, Alexander!" John sobbed, the tears coming faster, his body trembling with them. "Did any of them even mean something to you? Because they meant the world to me!" he shouted, choking on his tears as he clutched the painting tighter. He wanted to throw it away, to burn it, wanted to have never made it, because god did Alexander not deserve any of this. Alexander didn't deserve a painting, didn't deserve his tears, didn't deserve anything from John.

How could he do this?

"I... I'm sorry John I just- I thought you'd be gone for longer I-"

"So you what? Could have kept this little thing a secret and continue to play me like some I'm some board game? I thought you loved me Alexander." john wiped his eyes while Alex watched him in silence, his mind working to think of a way to fix this.

"John, I do love you, I just-"

"Just what? Am I not enough for you? Was I ever enough?"

By now, Jefferson had copied Alex and stood behind said man covered in only a duvet. He shot a pitying look John's way before making Alexander face him.

"You told me you'd break it off with him." Jefferson said, surprise and shock painted on his face. Alex shook his head.

"I was just-"

"You told him what?" John intruded. He'd never been more hurt in his entire life. "So you were gonna break it off with me on our ten year anniversary or what? Or did you lie to Jefferson too?" John's crying had eased but cold tears still rolled down his cheek. He couldn't tell if he'd rather live in ignorant bliss or if it was better that he found out. Right now the former seemed like the nicest option. He took a shaky breath.

"I hate you."

And he left.