gay one shots | ✔️

shot two: other consequence (lams)

John's POV

"But with the Reynolds girl! Did you have to do that with her, Alex!?" I cried as I slammed the door that Alexander had opened behind me as we entered the house we shared.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I promise it won't happen again! I wasn't even thinking of her. I accidentally said your name instead of hers. She got pissed at me and left after we finished."

I looked at him, his red eyes staring at me and pleading for my forgiveness. He was too cute, I was too helpless. But I turned away. He was going to win me over if I didn't, I couldn't bear to look in his eyes.

So I let the silence deafen us.

"It was one thing to sleep with her, and another to write a fucking pamphlet about it and publish it to all of the colonies," I whispered. Barely audible.

"I—you know why I did it," he replied quietly, undertones of malice scraping past his throat.

"It didn't exactly save your case though. Did it?" I replied, my tone as wintry as it was, not two seconds ago.

"John."

"No, Alex."

"John, please listen to me!"

"What more do you expect me to learn from it!?" I snapped, turning around to face him, and seeing his eyes not pleading anymore.

"John, I love you. I missed you. She was the one who initiated it, and she just looked too much like you, and I needed you, and I just wanted you by my side. But no, you'd gone and almost gotten yourself killed in the goddamn war!" He was shouting, not suppressing his tone, approaching me bravely.

"Alex, you broke my heart. You know how hard it is to find another person who's gay, and who you find attractive!? I need you to need me! I love you, but you just go and cheat on me as if I weren't real!" I was yelling gibberish at him at this point, and our faces were getting closer by the moment, and I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter as I stared into his tired, red eyes, begging for forgiveness. Begging, pleading. It almost looked as if he actually meant what he was saying. As if he didn't mean to do what he'd done.

As if he hadn't broken my goddamn heart. I sighed.

"John," I said, rubbing my temples. "How am I supposed to forgive you?!"

"I'm sorry." He whispered, looking down at his feet, and I noticed how irrevocably close we were to each other. He continued. "I love you. I don't love Mrs Reynolds. I never did. She means nothing to me. Nothing."

"Like I believe you."

His hand came up to touch my face, running across the trace of stubble that had accumulated since the morning. His hand felt good on my cheek. Natural. I wanted to kiss him, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it to be like before our spirits and minds were firmly sewn together. But it couldn't be after what he'd done. I moved out of the way.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hissed maliciously and walked out of the room, heading to the bedroom, where I locked myself in.

I heard him sniff, and I heard his footsteps following me to the bedroom, lean on the door and slide down it, huddled in a ball—most likely. I sighed.

"John, please," he begged.

"What!?" I yelled, pulling open he door swiftly and making him fall to the floor. He quickly regained his dignity and stood up.

"Please. I love you. I'm in love with you."

"And so am I, but you broke my heart! Do you think I'm going to trust you again?"

"No. I don't, and that's why I'm begging you, please. At least listen to me?"

"I don't want to listen to you. All you do is write all day like you're running out of time. You can't spare one moment to spend with me except for in the evening. For two hours a day. Two hours every day I get to spend with my dearest boyfriend. My love. For two hours instead of what could be four or five! Look, Alexander, I love you, but it seems like you don't give two shits about me!" As my voice raised, I strode nearer and nearer to him, our noses almost touching. "And you, you Alexander Hamilton, the one that I value so much in the world, more than anyone, you would go and cheat on me as if I don't matter?!"

He swallowed and looked down at his hands, and in my eyes, at my lips, and I watched as tears began to crawl down his cheeks, drop off of his chin, I watched as his lips parted as if to say something, then closed again, and I watched as he didn't try to hide his tears from me.

"John. I don't give two shits about you."

My jaw dropped and my eyebrows creased.

"I give all of the shits. I'd die for you, I'd lie for you, I'd do anything to win back your affections," his eyes flicked up to mine and lingered on my lips as he spoke again. "You've stolen into my affections without my consent, and I wouldn't ever dream of letting you go."

My eyes flitted to his lips as well, and I felt an intense tension gather in my chest. My lips collided with his, and I felt him kiss back. I smiled as his arms found their familiar place around my neck, and mine found their place on the wall on either sides of his head.

As I opened my mouth, I let my hands cup his cheek, one hand slowly and gently settling on his waist. I let my kisses linger away from his lips onto his cheek, and put my lips up to his ear.

"Were you really thinking of me," I whispered as he breathed heavily, "when you were busy with the Reynolds lady?"

"Every moment of it, John."

I grinned, and kissed him again, adamantly admiring the way that he looked when he was flustered like this.

And later when we were done making out, and he was curled up next to me, head on my chest, I heard him whisper my name, and when I answered, he looked up at me, his grey eyes shining with legitimacy and honesty, but mostly love and he whispered again.

"I love you."

I would be lying if I said that I thought that he didn't mean it.