More Hamilton drabbles

Hamlee: Hotheaded

Charles Lee was already worked up enough.

That morning, he slept through his alarm clock. Why didn't Alex wake him up? How did he sleep through the alarm? And the snooze alarm? Whatever. Charles shrugged it off and got dressed.

He found a hole in his brand new trench coat. When he went to ask Alex about it, he found that his boyfriend wasn't here. No note? No texts or calls? Charles tried to shake that off and continue his day.

He got to work at subway late, which pissed his co-workers off since it was brunch rush. Charles never heard the end of it for all of work. Adding into that, he had to deal with some white bitchy soccer mom complain to his manager about his hair and make up was "unsettling to her children" and "would give them bad ideas". What like expressing yourself? Charles was starting to get snappy.

His manager let him leave work early. That's how he phrased it, but Charles knew it really meant "your dark glare and snarl are scaring customers". But, nonetheless, Charles went home.

Traffic. Awful, awful traffic. Charles knew he should have taken his motorcycle. He waited and waited, no radio to listen to since it was broken. When would Alex call the repair man? Has he even thought about it?

Traffic took two hours. Charles finally got home to find Alex on the couch with John. They were sitting so fucking close. Their arms were touching. John was looking at Alex the way Charles looks at him. Alex seemed oblivious, but Charles saw it as flirty.

"Out." Lee snapped, dropping his bag and taking off his trench coat. Alex turned and smiled.

"Hey babe!"
"I want him out."

John smirked. He sighed, "New record. He just got home and already wants me gone." Charles turned the lights on and marched over.

"I'm not fucking kidding, shit head!" He shouted, "Get the fuck out of my house before I throw you out the fucking window!" John's eyes went wide and he quickly left the two alone. Alex paused the movie and glares at Charles.

"What is your problem, Charles? We were just watching a movie-"
"Why the fuck were you two so close?"
"Am I not allowed to have friends anymore?"

Charles rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen. He got a can of coca cola and opened it. He was smart enough to drink this instead of alcohol. God, what if he hurt Alex?

Lee snapped, "That's not what I meant, Alex. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The second I'm gone he's trying to get in your pants!" Alex scoffed.

"Look, Lee, I get you're jealous but you really shouldn't be. John's not even gay." Alex laughed nervously. Charles glared.

He snarled at Alexander, "John is gayer than a fucking rainbow, you twat." Alex huffed and glared. He had the same anger problems as Charles except his didn't build up, it had a fast on and off switch.

He shouted, "Me and John are just friends! Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you can just fucking yell at me, okay?!" Charles huffed. He got out a frozen pizza. Lee needed something to busy himself with.

Alex shook his head and said, "Of course you're like this right now. All you do is get angry at me!! When the fuck was the last time we were happy huh?!" Charles opened his mouth to shout but Alex cut him off. "Why do you think I've been leaving early every fucking morning?!" Lee stopped for a second.

His face got red. Charles slammed his hands on the counter and screamed at him. "WELL SORRY YOU'RE SO OBSESSED WITH OVERWORKING YOURSELF TO DEAL WITH YOUR INDECURITIES AND PTSD THAT YOU THINK YOUR JOB IS BETTER THAN A RELATIONSHIP YOU FUCKING PRICK!!" Alex slapped him across the face.

He marched to the door and shouted, "I'm fucking leaving! In fact maybe I'll go to Johns place so I CAN CHEAT ON YOU LIKE YOU ALREADY THINK I'M DOING!!!" Charles grabbed the glass at threw it at the wall.

"CAN'T CHEAT ON ME IF I DUMP YOU, ASSHOLE!"
"FINE! I WAS GONNA DO IT LATER ANYWAY!"
"GREAT!"

Alex huffed and slammed the door shut after he left. Charles panted. Why was he so out of breath and shaky? He went to the door and locked it, and then he shut the TV off and sat down.

Charles blinked, glancing at the door. There was a broken cup on the ground, shards of glass. He looked away and ran a hand through his hair. Alex was probably in his car by now, no reason to go after him, no way to go after him. They were broken up now, and Charles didn't have the energy to follow him.

He got up and went to the bedroom. Alrxander would be back for his things tomorrow. Charles moved Alex's dirty clothes to a corner of the room before opening the night stand and looking through Alex's stuff.

He grabbed an empty cardboard box and started putting the stuff inside. Alex could get his nasty clothes himself. But Charles wanted to do this so Alex could leave faster.

Notebooks. Pencils. Picture frame. Loose change. A fidgit cube. Alex just had normal, random stuff in here. Lee's eyes landed on a photograph. Polaroid camera kind. He picked it up and frowned.

He remembered that photo of him. Lee had been so tired that day, and when he was doing college homework he fell asleep. Alex got a photo before waking him up.

Charles slowly out the photo on the bed rather than the cardboard box. There was another photo, once again from a polaroid. It was of Alex and Charles at the beach. Senior year was a class trip to California. They were holding hands, hair all wet and matted down, and Alex had an arm around Lee's waist.

"What have I done," Lee sighed, setting the photo on the bed. He finished putting things away in the box. Next he grabbed the photos and put them in his wallet, tucking them away.

Charles changed out of his work clothes and into some sweats and a shirt. He was Alexander's coat on the ground and carefully picked it up. Lee was so scared, as if it were a sacred item that just one wrong touch could cause it to shatter. He held it, feeling the soft fur on the inside.

Charles crawled into bed and held the coat close, staring at the wall. The bed was too big for him now, too big without another body next to him. Lee held the coat tighter. He curled up in a ball under the thick blankets. Why was it so cold?

Why am I so cold? Charles thought. Why am I so mean? He closed his eyes, thinking about work that day. His entire day in general really.

"Why do you think I've been leaving early every fucking morning?!" Charles doesn't blame him too much. He let out a shaky sigh, rubbing his own hand with his thumb. Alex did that when he was upset. He didn't do that this time obviously. Charles just had to count to ten and everything would have been fine, but instead he lost control.

Just like he always does.

Charles slowly dozed off, clutching the jacket. His only life line at that point.