Hamilton One-Shots DISCONTINUED

Laurette

John flinched as a car swooped past, narrowly missing him. "Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered under his breath, glaring after the driver as he lay on the pavement, panting.

A passing tourist gave him a concerned look and helped him up, asking him a question in Spanish. John silently thanked God that he had taken Spanish in high school. The usual burning smell started to flood his nostrils and he nearly gagged.

John barely managed to keep it together until he had politely assured the tourist that he was alright. Seemingly satisfied, the man walked away. John doubled over and nearly retched.

After a while, the smell started to fade and John continued on his way to work. Thinking he had plenty of time, John checked his watch only to see that he was going to be late.

"Shit," he swore aloud. Breaking into a sprint, John swore that he could feel the wind at his feet, pushing him to be faster. He burst into his work just in time, doubling over and panting, dry-heaving when the burning smell filled his nose.

John's best friend Alex looked over and giggled. "You ok down there Johnny?" he teased. John just gave him the finger as their boss walked in.

"Ah, John. Just the person I wanted to see. Why don't you step into my office and we can, ah, talk?" Washington asked. Gulping, John stood up and followed his boss.

"Sit down, John. Sit," Washington insisted, gesturing at the seat opposite him. John sat down carefully, nervously looking at his boss.

"You wanted to speak with me?" he asked nervously. "Am I in trouble sir?"

George's eyes widened. "Oh no, God no. I just wanted to ask you, ahem, uh, how would you ask Alexander out?" he started mumbling towards the end, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt but John heard him.

"You want to ask Alex out?" he asked, obviously too loud because Washington nearly jumped across the table to put his hand over his mouth.

"Yes, I do. How would you do it?" he asked again, bright red and fumbling with his hands. John laughed and looked down at the desk.

"Well, I wouldn't," he joked. "But if I had to pick a way to ask out Alexander, I probably just wouldn't. I'd just move in with him and see if he noticed. And then, whenever he did, just say, 'Oh, I moved in weeks ago when we started dating.' and watch his panicked expression."

Washington gave him a shocked look. "But-but that's mean," he protested. John sent him a look.

"How old are you, five? Of course, it's mean, that's what Alex and I do. And you did ask how I would ask him out. For you, I'd recommend flowers and dinner in the office, after everyone else has gone home and he's staying behind to work. Perfect time cause yall'd be alone," he explained.

George nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, John, you've been a real help," he thanked him. John gave an awkward fake salute and left, only to be pounced on by Alex.

"What did he want? Did he say anything about me? Please, John, you gotta tell me," he whined. John laughed and pushed his best friend off.

"Chill, he just wanted some advice and I gave it to him," he explained lightly. Alex sent him a pleading look that said loads. "He wanted advice on," John paused, "He wanted advice on asking someone out."

It hurt John to see his best friend deflate like that, the passionate spark leaving his eyes for once. "Oh. Okay then," he said dully, all traces of curiosity and excitement leaving his voice. "I hope it goes well for him. Could, could you maybe tell him that I'm gonna be working late tonight and ask him to just leave me the keys? I'll lock up after," Alex promised.