The War is Over But We're Just Beginning: A Lams Fanfiction

23 Risk and Memories

"Mr. Secretary!" Burr greets Alexander, holding out a hand to shake. Alexander grins confidently. He's well-rested and back on the political battlefield.

"Mr. Burr, sir!" He exclaims. He sees Burr stiffen with annoyance at the nickname, but he keeps his smile pasted on his face.

"Did you hear about the new street named after old General Mercer?" Burr continues. "Used to be Clermont Street, now it's Mercer."

Alexander grins. "Nice that the old man's legacy's intact after death."

"If that's all you need to achieve recognition, we've ought to give it a shot." Burr smirks.

The two men begin walking toward the political office. "Any new ideas about your debt plan?" The elder man asks.

"I suppose I'm going to have to listen the words a dear friend once told me." Alexander smirks.

"Talk less, smile more."

Burr stifles a barking laugh at the naive man. It'll take only a miracle to get his ridiculous plan through Congress.

As they approach the large doors, a tall man with dark caramel skin and curly hair steps outside.

"Hamilton!" He barks.

Alexander grins at Burr one last time. "I apologize, Mr. Burr, I must go." He turns to the tall man. "Hello Thomas."

With a last dirty look at Alexander's back, Thomas closes the door, not bothering to keep it open for Burr.

Burr enters by himself, his mind racing. Dear god, what the hell is Hamilton going to do in there with those southerners?

Burr has never trusted him...and yet, here he is with the fate of the Capital and the country's financial future in his hands.

He's got to be in the room where Hamilton make that deal.

Meanwhile, Laurens is at home, taking a break from tending to the children. Taking out a blank book, he begins to sketch.

Of course, a turtle is what comes to him. The charcoal he is using traces the image of the turtle in his mind. He outlines the rounded shell, long neck, and protruding tail. Such a pretty animal. At the thought of natural beauty, his mind drifts to Alexander.

He had been so busy these days, Laurens barely had time to talk to him.

Yeah, "talk" to him.

As he sketches the turtle, a memory from a long time ago floats back to him.

"Alexander!" Laurens calls, trying to find the man through the halls of his large house.

Slipping into a room to see if Alexander is there, he stops.

There he is.

The young man is sitting upside down on a chair, his eyes closed. His long, dark hair hangs down, untied.

"Philip?" His eyes snap open.

"It's John." Laurens says quietly.

"John!" Alexander flips off the chair gracefully, rising and smoothing down his shirt. Laurens is surprised that he can still flip off a chair with that much ease.

"Alexander, I just wanted to–"

Before he can finish his sentence, Alexander presses his lips to Laurens's, backing him into the wall.

Alexander's hands run through Laurens's hair roughly, taking a muffled groan from the man.

Passion like this had not been shared between the two men since before the wedding. Laurens's thin fingers pull Alexander closer to him, his hands gripping the slender small of his back.

"Alexander!" Laurens gasps harshly.

Alexander digs his nails into Laurens's back, earning another throaty moan from him. His lips detach from Laurens's and plants kisses and nips along the base of his jawline, the slight pain causing Laurens to enjoy it more.

Furiously unbuttoning Laurens's shirt, Alexander strokes his lover's chest up and down, feeling the many scars from various battle wounds, most of which almost killed him.

"You're reckless." Alexander mutters hotly.

"You're handsome." Laurens murmurs back, taking control and pulling Alexander even closer to him. He grinds his hipbones against Alexander's roughly, gripping his waist.

"J-Jacky-!" Alexander moans, using the flirty nickname he had assigned to Laurens a few years ago.

He tugs at Laurens's curly mess of hair, winding the brown locks around his fingers. Laurens growls, pressing his lips back to Alexander's. He kisses the younger man hungrily, each taste of his skin the sweetest of banished chocolates.

Alexander gasps, pulling away. His cheeks are flushed and sweaty. Laurens's hair is tousled beyond belief and his hands shake with anticipation.

"John–"

"Talk less." Laurens breathes, pulling Alexander close to his body again, willing to sacrifice everything to taste his sweet lips.

"Laurens?" Angie pops out of the of doorway, startling Laurens into dropping his charcoal.

"Good afternoon, Angie." Laurens smiles, pink rising to his cheeks.

Angie steps over to see what he's drawing. "Turtles!" She grins. Although she is older than most of the children in the house, Angie finds a great joy in the childlike things that Laurens draws.

He looks at her in the light. The girl's figure is painfully thin and Laurens suppresses a wince. "Angie, want to go for a walk with me? Maybe we can go to the patisserie around the corner," he offers. "My treat."

Angie's smile broadens. "Of course, Jacky!" Laurens blushes at the name, the memory of Alexander calling it out lustily still branded on his mind.

"Let me just get my shoes." The oldest Hamilton daughter skips off to find her boots.