Warning: Mild(ish) smut ahead.
The end was coming.
By this time next week, it would all be over.
The war would be over, for better or for worse.
The Battle of Yorktown was upon them. A few short hours, and they would be leaping into the fray to put their lives in the line for their fledgling nation.
They would either win their independence or have their revolution squashed by the cruel hands of the British Empire.
This battle would decide it all.
Would decide whether all the men who died had died winning their fellow Americans their freedom or if their deaths had all been in vain.
Alex would either live to help create the nation he had fought so hard for or die on the battlefield in the name of freedom.
Just a few more hours, and all Hell would break loose.
Just a few more hours, and they would be making history.
Alex sat at his desk chair, his pouring over the plans for tomorrow's battle even as the light waned and his eyes grew increasingly strained trying to make out the small dark lettering on the page.
He knew the plans by heart, could recite them the way children could recite their letters, knew those plans like the back of his hand.
And yet there he sat, pouring over them like a student who had spent all term procrastinating trying to force immense amounts of information into their memory the night before an exam.
Rereading the plans brought him comfort, calmed his nerves which had grown increasingly frayed the closer the battle drew. It soothed him to know that he at least had a somewhat of an idea how things were going to play out when dawn broke.
His thoughts were inturrupted when the door to his tent opened and a tall figure slipped through the door.
At first Alex couldn't discern who it was, but when he stepped into the light cast by Alex's lamp, he instantly recogonized those piercing blue eyes and incredibly thick fair hair.
John Laurens sat down at the foot of Alex's chair, like a child begging a busy parent for attention.
Alex turned away from the pile of papers and smiled at John.
"Good evening, my dearest, Laurens." Alex said with a smirk, taking one of John's hands in his.
"Good evening, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton."
Alex brought John's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
Over the years the two men had known each other, it had grown increasingly clear that their affections for one another extended well beyond friendship, that the love they felt for each other went far deeper than the bond formed by two men who fought side by side in the Continental Army.
Though they did everything they could to ensure that their feelings for one another remained hidden, that to the outside world they appeared as nothing more than two friends, they were both aware of how they felt about one another, and that each returned the other's feelings with perhaps even more intensity.
Wordlessly, John stood up and pulled Alex out of his chair, taking a quick glance around to ensure that nobody would see and pressed a kiss to Alex's lips.
Alex gasped before enthusiastically returning the kiss, wrapping his arms around John's waist and tilting his head back to deepen the kiss.
They had only kissed once before, in the dark alley behind a tavern. The kiss had been rough and hungry and desparate, being as they had just finished downing one (or ten) too many drinks and were so intoxicated that they could barely tell which way was up.
This kiss was different. It was slower and less hasty, sweeter and less rough. Like two lovers kissing in the back of a carriage rather than a half-starved predator desparately devouring his pray.
Alex felt one of John's hands slip under his shirt, his fingers gently stroking the soft skin beneath. The other slipped a little bit lower.
Alex started and pulled away, his heart racing.
They had never discussed the possibility of engaging in the most private and sacred act of intimacy. They both wanted to (perhaps much more desparately than either of them cared to admit), but they knew that it was risky, especially in a setting such as this one. If they were caught, they would be kicked out of the Continental Army and hanged or left in prision to rot.
"Alex, please." John whispered, dropping his voice as though he too feared that someone would hear them. "We go into battle tomorrow. Who knows if we'll survive? For all we know, this is our last night together. Please, Alex. Please."
Alex sighed. "You know I want to, John, but... I'm afraid. If we get caught, we'll be thrown out of the Army. And then who knows what they'll do to us?"
"We won't get caught." John said. "Everybody's getting so drunk they probably won't even remember what sex is. Please, Alex."
John started kissing down Alex's neck. It too everything in him not to scream.
It felt so good. Alex had to bite his lip until it bled to remain silent as John palmed him through his pants with one hand and ran the other throug his unbound hair.
"J-John, please." Alex said, struggling to speak. "What if they hear us? What if someone comes in here looking for me and they see us? It's too dangerous, John. It's too dangerous."
"I promise, no one will hear us. No one will see us. We won't get caught. I promise."
"Promise?"
"Promise." John smiled. "So what do you say, Alexander?"
"You promise we won't get caught."
"Promise."
"Then yes. A million times yes!"
John shoved Alex down onto the makeshift bed, kissing his neck with such zeal that Alex feared it would be covered in marks by morning.
John unbuttoned Alex's shirt with a gentleness that offset the urgency with which he peppered his neck with kisses. He helped Alex shrug the shirt off and pulled away to admire his handiwork.
Alex's cheeks flushed with embarassment and he quickly crossed his arms over his chest. John grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms away.
"You're beautiful, Alexander Hamilton. Don't you dare try to cover yourself up."
Alex's face went as red as his hair.
John unbuttoned his own shirt and tossed it onto the floor beside Alex's.
"Come on, my love. It is time that we move undercover and we move as one."
On the morning of the Battle of Yorktown, the battle that would decide the fate of the American Revolution, Alexander Hamilton woke up next to John Laurens.
The two men lay beside each other for a little while, enjoying the comfortable silence and the warmth of each other's bodies.
"I love you, Alexander Hamilton."
"I love you too, John Laurens."
