Hamilton One Shots

Drunken

Requested by: hustlecat

Caught in the middle of a swarm of soldiers who were slightly drunk, the Marquis de Lafayette squirmed uncomfortably. He wasn't the type of man to drink, much less flaunt it to everyone around him. To see his comrades in such a different manner was both a pleasing feeling as a disgusting one.

Just as he grabbed the arm of one man who had become quite rowdy, he felt a pair of laughs approach him from behind him. Oh no, he thought silently. Forcing a firm smile on his face, the Marquis turned to the two soldiers he knew very well.

"Monsieur Hamilton and Laurens." Bowing his head, each of them received a greeting from the man. But neither of them took it to heart much, for their hearts were filled with the lingering scent and reminder of alcohol.

Clinging to one another in a manner that would be considered inappropriate under any other circumstances. Clearly moved by their closeness, Lafayette reached forward to separate them, not wanting them to get hurt.

The second he did so, both men sniffed the air and recognized how clean the Marquis smelled, giving them a hint of how little he had to drink that night. Alexander gave his partner a look and practically shouted, "Y-you-you'd like a drink?" He grabbed the other man's arm.

Gilbert swallowed down a lump that was forming in his throat. "No, Alexander. I-I would not." Shaken up by the drunken grip on his body, he tried to calm the both of them down. But of course they cut him off before he could even say something.

"Pour a-another for our friend here!" Laurens raised his hand in the direction of someone who had control over the liquor. Gilbert wondered how they even managed to get their hands on such alcohol and such an amount.

"That's not necessary, John. Now-" Before he could try to convince them to ditch the drinking celebration, the two men pulled him over the makeshift bar, jeering for him to take the fully poured glass of alcohol. Pale faced, Gilbert gave them uncertain looks. "But-"

Alexander slammed his hand down on the taller man, sending a shockwave to ripple through his body. He didn't like being intimidated by a person barely his size, but there wasn't much control for him to have.

Surrounded by swearing and sweating soldiers, he had no choice but to bring the glass to his lips. Washington was asleep in his tent somewhere, completely oblivious to the activity happening. He'll find out about this from me, the Marquis thought as he downed the drink.

Sick to the stomach almost immediately, Gilbert buckled over and stumbled away from the crowd. But they only followed him. Laurens leaned on his distressed figure, shouting about more drinks for all. About ready to vomit, knowing that whatever had been in the drink hadn't been pleasant, Gilbert turned away from the faces of his fellow comrades.

His vision faded in and out, just as he felt someone slap his shoulder. He half expected to puke the remains of his dinner and the drink, but nothing but a gasp of air came out. On his shoulder, Alexander grinned. Breath reeking of alcohol, he shouted, "How's it f-feel?!"

"You've had enough to drink, Hamilton." He took the smaller man by the arm, dragging him weakly across the field. On the way, he picked up Laurens in the other arm. "General Washington will be disappointed in all your behavior!" Without receiving any responses, he shoved towards one of the tents.

Throwing the two of them on their beds, Gilbert fumed to himself. Not only was his mouth filled with the taste of his own oncoming vomit, but he could taste his own betrayal to Washington. You were supposed to not give into their games, he scolded himself.

Meanwhile, Alexander had his head back against his pillow, in a fit of laughter. On the other side of the tent, John was ripping off his shirt, but managed to get stuck. If the General had seen their behavior right then and there, it would have not have ended well.

Lafayette finally shouted at them, "Calm yourselves! And get your damn shirt off all the way, Laurens!" Grabbing the top of the shirt, he pried the rest of it from the southern man's sweat stained chest. He tossed it to the side with a flick of his wrist.

"A-a-nother drink can't hurt," mumbled Alexander as he reached for the side of his bed, for what was nothing but air. He let out an exhausted sigh and moaned for more something else to drink.

"You're not getting another drink, you hear me, Hamilton? Nor are you, John. I can't let you both go to waste in one night." All he wanted was for them to go to sleep and wake up and realize their mistake. However, Lafayette was dealing with two of the most feisty and independent souls in the continental army.

It was unlikely they'd cooperate.

John tripped across the tent to him, chuckling under his breath. "W-we're just thirsty, frenchie. Tha-t's all," he stammered. His hands suddenly felt awfully too friendly, slipping in and out of the jacket he wore. Gilbert pressed his lips together, watching his friend.

"Find some other way to satisfy your thirst, you two. Washington won't be pleased to here of any of this tomorrow morning. He'll expect you to be ready to discuss battle plans, and where will he find you instead? Experiencing a hangover." Gilbert narrowed his eyes.

Laurens's hands fell from the folds of his jacket, as he backed up and collapsed on his bed. Smacking the headboard with the back of his neck, the man groaned in agony. It must have struck a nerve inside him, for his eyes fluttered shut seconds after. And then he let out a snore and it was a relief to know one of them had fallen asleep.

Stepping over some scattered papers, Lafayette turned back to the other man. Alexander crossed his arms and let out an alcohol scented breath. "I-I'm not going to sleep. You can't make me, even if you tried." He gave his friend a determined look.

"You're able to outsmart me? Go ahead and try, Hamilton." This will be humoring, Lafayette thought, chuckling out loud. He stared down the drunk lieutenant, keeping a firm gaze in his eyes. Much to his surprise, Alexander seemed to be staying awake.

That only lasted for a minute or two, because it wasn't long before his eyes also slid shut. He didn't snore, like Laurens, but he became restless the second sleep hit him. Gilbert smirked to himself, thankful to see them finally silent and asleep.

Anything could happen the next morning, but Lafayette promised to remind them how he had been the one to warn them of the consequences of their drunk behavior.

There were times he wondered if those two men would still be alive if wasn't beside them at all times. Probably not, he always told himself, trying not to think about it.

Either way, at the end of the day, he was always the one to pick them up the floor and save their asses every single time.

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A/N: Thank you hustlecat for the request! I really liked writing this, haven't written much of these three in a while! And of course, drunk Hamilton and Laurens is a lot of excitement.