Hamilton Oneshots

Lams: Cheater

A/N: More gay angst. I know, I suck.

-Angie

Last night. Last night. Last night. The words thrum in my veins, awakening unwelcome feelings.

For a second, a brief blissful second, I had woken up this morning and forgotten everything. Forgotten how when I got home I heard you and her in our bedroom. Forgotten the way your name slipped off her tongue, the way it was laced it with seduction, the way it sounded so wrong. Forgotten how I had walked through the hallways silently like a ghost in my own home, refusing to believe what my senses told me was true. Forgotten how you smiled down at her as she pleased you like I never could when I had opened the door. Forgotten her dark red garments strewn across the floor. Forgotten your look. That look like you thought I was dumb enough to believe that this wasn't coming. That look of failure, not regret, but pity for yourself. Forgotten how you smashed that bottle nearly missing me after she had left.

But it all came back and hit me like a bullet to the heart, striking up the feelings of last night. I toss the blankets off me, restless from these emotions I can't escape. A deep pit has settled in my stomach. I barely got any sleep last night after I had run to our bedroom and locked the door. You had sat outside of it a while, whimpering about how you still loved me. I had laid on the bed that you had touched her on, that you had loved her on, listening to your pleas. And you know what I felt? Nothing. I was completely numb, staring at that water stain on the ceiling until you stopped.

The tears hit me now, welling up and spilling down as I sit on this bed that you betrayed me on. A sob escapes my mouth and I quickly put a hand over it. Tears are weakness. I brush at them impatiently but he's already heard me.

"John!" he shouts. I hear the floorboards creak and his palm hit the door. "John... John, baby." His knees hit the floor outside my door with a soft thump.

I take a deep shaky breath. Who gave him the right to call me baby? Anger seeps into my thoughts, replacing the sadness. I stand up and yank the door open. He looks up at me, a smile appearing on his lips, and scrambles to his feet. "Jacky-"

"Don't call me that," I growl. "I'm not your baby. I'm not your Jacky. I'm not yours!"

His face falls. I go to the dresser and jerk his drawer out of it. It falls to the floor with a large thud, scattering clothes across the floor. Violently, I pull off my engagement ring, whipping it to the floor with the rest of his belongings. "Leave."

"John-"

"Leave!" My voice breaks.

I push the drawer towards him but he doesn't make a move towards it. Instead, he moves to sit on the bed. I'm unsure what to do. I was expecting him to leave. We lapse into a tension-filled silence before Alex sniffles. I turn to him, he shouldn't be crying. He did this to himself.

"You know, it's kinda funny," he says with a dry laugh. I frown. "I ruined the one thing I protected the most- I forgot that I needed to protect it from myself."

I open my mouth to interrupt but he continues, "I- I thought, actually I don't know what I thought. I wasn't thinking... at all. And that's not an excuse because there are no excuses. And I'm not sure why I'm sitting here, rambling to you. I should leave. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this." He fiddles with his hands, standing up then sitting immediately back down.

"B-but I want this so bad. I've dreamt and dreamt of raising kids with you. Buying a nice house in the suburbs. Throwing barbeques in the backyard. Watching our kids grow up and knowing we did one thing right in this world." Tears stream down his cheeks now. "We'd grow old and move to a retirement home together where we send our kids sweaters. And mine are terrible, just awful, but your sweaters are great." His voice is uneven and shaky. "I die first so I don't have to live in a world without you for one day."

"A-and it wouldn't be perfect but it would be enough. We'd be happy."

Tears fall down for the future we'll never have. I want so badly to be mad at him. I want so badly to feel such hate for him that it overcomes me. But I don't.

"I want that too," I say and it comes out like a breath. He looks up, hope returning to his eyes.

"But it's gone."