Chapter Text
General Washington had requested an early morning meeting in order to best prepare for the upcoming week. To that end, the Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton, and John Laurens were standing bleary-eyed in their general’s tent as new battle tactics were shared and old debates were analyzed. Alexander stood in between Lafayette and John, his head just grazing the top of both men’s shoulders, his eyes fervently fixated above to the older general in front of him. He either did not notice or did not care about this difference as he engaged in discussion with more fervor than the remaining three men combined.
John was quieter than usual this morning, Lafayette noted. He occasionally shot Lafayette an amused glance when Alexander stuttered over his words in his haste to get them out, but apart from that, he seemed to lack his usual virility. Perhaps the troubles of revolution were finally starting to take their toll, John being their first casualty.
“Surely you do not propose that we continue westwards?” Washington asked.
“Your Excellency! On the contrary, we know that-,” Alexander was abruptly cut off as John let out a sudden cough that rattled deep within his chest. Washington gave John an appraising look as Lafayette and Alexander turned to him, startled.
“I apologize for my disruptive disposition today,” said John, waving aside their concerned looks with a hand and a smile. “It seems that some clever condition has taken advantage of my unrested body.”
Perhaps that was the root of his quiet demeanor, Lafayette pondered. Could it be as simple as a troublesome cough? Alexander’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at John’s seemingly flippant attitude, but his face betrayed no other emotion as he finished his sentence.
To the regular acquaintance, Alexander’s response (or lack thereof) might have come across as callous, almost cruel. But of course, as a true observer and close friend of both men, Lafayette had long since arrived to the belief that despite any attempts to the contrary, Alexander actually cared a great deal for one Mister John Laurens. In fact, Lafayette would posit, their relationship extended beyond mere affectionate fraternity. He would even go so far as to swear on both his life and the life of his dear mère that Alexander and John were deeply in love – although of course, they had never admitted to such a relationship nor he would never dare say such a provocative idea out loud.
But spending countless hours with dear friends will eventually reveal certain idiosyncrasies about said friends, and Lafayette had deduced that there was some deeper connection between the two men. He could not point out when their friendship evolved to romance, but once he had noticed how they acted with each other, how they responded to each other, he knew that there were underlying ripples.
When Alexander would spend the greater part of an hour deconstructing the arguments and strategy of one Charles Lee to the detriment of his neighbors’ suppertime, John could simply rest a large hand on Alexander’s slender wrist and give him a small closed smile. Alexander would snap his jaw shut and finally begin to examine his cold meal, John would remove his hand and continue eating as if nothing had occurred, and Lafayette and their forth companion, Mister Hercules Mulligan, would steadily refuse to glance at each other. When John would start on a third pint and begin to extrapolate on the merits of a fully black battalion, Lafayette did not miss the flush that came over Alexander’s face and his inability to remove his dark gaze from the passionate young Southerner. And every evening, John would be the one to cajole Alexander into leaving behind his makeshift desk to their shared tent (and was that simple luck, pondered Lafayette, or the result of one convincing aide-de-camp). “Our little lion needs rest to sharpen his claws for tomorrow’s fight,” he would jokingly claim to the fellow aides, and Lafayette could not help but notice how John would lock a possessive hand on the nape of Alexander’s neck, effectively steering him to their shared quarters.
The trials of war were many. Although they never dared speak aloud about their suspicions, Lafayette knew that he and Hercules shared a silent agreement, that with the harsh realities that war brought, the revolutionaries needed to find joy when possible. And as long as John and Alexander could keep…whatever was happening between them just like that – between them. Lafayette knew that he could hold this unnamed secret in confidence.
Of course, Lafayette was drawn to these two men prior to any hidden revelations on illicit romance. Alexander had endeared himself to the Marquis immediately upon first meeting; he had never before met such a proud and ambitious man, an intellectual equal, so intent on making impact. And John – the noble, young Southerner determined to correct society’s ills. Their romantic predilections were not for his judgment – their intellectual abilities and zest for life were what attracted Lafayette to them in the first place. Let them follow their passions, thought Lafayette, for only God can pass final judgment.
The meeting with Washington continued on, pausing only with increasingly deep coughs from John and Alexander quickly glancing over in concern. By the fifth rattling cough, Lafayette shot John a look – it was surely a trick of the light, but it seemed that John’s skin was growing paler with each passing second. After the seventh coughing eruption, Washington again paused his analysis of upcoming army movements. “Laurens, I do not seek to offend you, but perhaps I would be better served for now with you in your own bed.”
“Sir, I would ordinarily fight for my honor as a man, but it seems that in this case, I would be better served in admitting defeat.” John shrugged and then grinned lasciviously at Lafayette. “I have never suggested I am anything more than a humble mortal although some stories might say otherwise.”
Lafayette chortled as he caught Alexander rolling his eyes behind John. “Mon ami, you have described your godlike abilities before, but I do not think Jupiter and Mars sounded like you do now.”
John began to laugh, which quickly transformed into a deep wheeze.
Washington stepped forward. “You two may take your leave as well. Bring him to his quarters and let him rest,” Washington nodded to Lafayette and Alexander. “Return here this afternoon for a final recommendation of this week’s activities.”
As the three men exited Washington’s tent, John let out another rattling cough and paused, hand thumping his chest. Lafayette and Alexander shared a quick glance before Alexander raised a hand to softly tap John’s shoulder. “My dear friend, it would not due to have you fall ill,” he softly said.
“Our little lion is once again correct, mon ami,” agreed Lafayette, “Our revolution can wait for one day if your health would be the price of immediacy.”
“I pray, dear friends, do not spend your time concerned for my health!” John smiled, winking extravagantly at Alexander, his eyes bright against his chalky complexion. “I will, however, heed your advice. Washington requests for us to return this evening? Then I will rest now.”
John started in the direction of his tent. Alexander automatically moved to follow him, but John halted him by raising a hand. “Do not worry yourself needlessly, my friend! I will take a quick rest and be ready for our next meeting with His Excellency before even you, dear Ham!”
Alexander’s brow furrowed, but just as he opened his mouth (to, Lafayette did not doubt, present eleven arguments as to why he should follow John back to their quarters), John pressed a forefinger against his lips, quieting him.
“You complete your duties for the day,” he quietly said, lowering his hand from Alexander’s face. Alexander nodded, and John stepped back. Giving Alexander a friendly smack on his upper arm, John turned to Lafayette, smiling. “Take good care of this little one today, my dear Marquis! It would be a true shame to lose him after all that he has put us through!”
Lafayette responded with an extravagant bow - both to John’s obvious delight and Alexander’s embarrassment. “Mon ami, do not worry! I will protect our friend from anyone who seeks him harm, whether it be from quill or sword or bullet!”
“John,” grumbled Alexander “Just promise us you will recover, so that I may have the opportunity to murder you in your sleep.”
“Alexander,” John said softly, quickly glancing around to spot any potential witnesses. Apparently, he did not consider Lafayette to be too much a threat because he continued, “Do not trouble that brilliant head with concerns of my health. I am a Laurens! Hardy and strong! I need rest, but I will be unable to do so if I can feel you so close to me.”
That was a risky statement, even if just in front of Lafayette – even John seemed to sense that he had overstepped because he quickly stepped further away from Alexander who suddenly looked very small and helpless. Lafayette stepped forward, hoping to break the growing tension. “You will tell us if you feel like your condition worsens, yes, mon ami?”
After John nodded, Lafayette continued, “I will send Mulligan to retrieve you if we are unable to before our next discussion with Washington.”
John gave a final salute, and turned and retreated to the tent, Alexander giving him a lingering look of concern.
“Do you truly think he tells the truth,” muttered Alexander as he sidled up to Lafayette, the two men turning towards the main camp.
“I am sure our friend will be fine,” assured Lafayette. But he did wonder – didn’t John seem so pale?