this interview oh my god the interviewer keeps congratulating kate on not being a stereotypical lesbian because he hates stereotypes and she just has this look on her face like get me out of here but remains polite
A little canon!verse Burrens for @crowbalt who was sad b/c of @perhaps-im-indecisive‘s inability to write happy endings. Good job, you made our child sad! But as usual, I’m here to write the good stuff, so I hope y’all like it!!!
Alexander Hamilton’s scream rang through the air, over the sound of cannon fire and gunshots, over the screams of the dead and dying, reaching the ears of one John Laurens, who lay on the ground, bayonet pointed at his throat.
The red coat stood above him, equally battered and bloodied, but with a smug, shit eating grin on his face.
“John?” the soldier asked, his voice cruel, “That your name, colonist? Well, John, be sure to say hello to the devil for me on your way to hell-”
John would be embarrassed to say he shrieked when the man jolted forward, but he heard no gunshot, nor felt the cold steel go through his chest. When he looked up at the british soldier however, his breath caught in his throat.
A long silver blade stuck out from the man’s chest, and Laurens watched as his eyes went blank and he went limp. The blade was pulled out roughly and he fell to the ground, revealing behind him Laurens’ savior.
“You talk too much, soldier.”
Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Burr stood over him, his eyes on the body at his feet and his lips formed into a tight scowl. Laurens saw that his arm had been ripped to shreds, the sleeve destroyed and blood pouring from the wound there.
That being said, John wondered if Burr had always looked so impressive in his uniform, or if it was just the lighting.
“Are you wounded, Laurens?” he asked, his voice hard but John heard the distinct shake in his words.
“Then on your feet, soldier.” and John swore he saw the ghost of a smile grace the man’s lips, “We’ve got a war to win.”
And just like that he was gone, and Alexander was at his side, fussing over him like a mother hen as Laurens stared off in the direction Burr had gone.
“John, jesus are you alright!?”
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice slightly wistful, “yeah I’m fine.”
The next evening found Laurens in the medical tent, standing at its opening, staring at the pacing figure of Aaron Burr, his arm heavily bandaged while his other hand laid gently on the hilt of his sword.
His jacket was lying haphazardly on the bed beside him and his blouse was unbuttoned, revealing a perfectly chiseled, but scared chest. Laurens felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks as he stood there, silently observing the man who had saved his life.
That is, until Burr noticed him.
“Laurens.” he said suddenly, rounding on the man with a small, almost relieved smile on his face.
“You should be resting, Lieutenant Colonel.” John returned the smile, strutting into the tent.
“Please, I’m about to go mad if I have to stay in this tent one more minute.”
“It’s for your own good, Burr.” Laurens sat on the bed, patting it gently to beckon Aaron over. “That arm looks terrible.”
“It’s fine.” he huffed, “I’ve had worse.”
They were quiet for a moment, Burr moving his hand to scratch at the bandages only to have Laurens slap it away.
“Don’t scratch it.” he chided, “I came here to thank you for…well for saving my life.”
“I couldn’t very well let you die, could I?” Aaron quipped, “Who would be there to share the burden that is Hamilton?”
“I guess you’re right-stop scratching it-but I know we haven’t exactly gotten along in the past.”
“You’re usually a jackass.”
“…..yeah, that’s true-GODDAMN IT BURR!”
Laurens grabbed Aaron’s hand, holding it up and away from his bandaged arm and close to his chest. Aaron looked surprised for a moment, before rolling his eyes and tugging at his hand.
“Let go, Laurens.” he sighed.
But John wasn’t exactly listening anymore. He held Burr’s hand tightly in his own, and his eyes fell on the man’s lips, moving slightly, but Laurens couldn’t hear the words. He scooched closer and Aaron blinked in surprise.
“Are you even listening, Laurens?”
“No,” he shrugged, “you talk too much Burr.”
“Excuse me?” Aaron said, exasperated and seemingly unaware of how close Laurens was, “I talk just the right amount for a man in my position!”
“And what position is that, Burr?”
“Going mad trapped in a medical tent with a useless arm and you-”
He was cut off by the feeling of chapped lips pressing gently against his.
It was a kiss; Laurens was kissing him! It was chaste and quick, but a kiss none the less. And as soon as Aaron’s brain wrapped around the concept, John was pulling away, a light blush on his freckled face, and wearing a smirk.
“I’m not so bad.”
“C’mon Burr, say something.” John whined, but he couldn’t help the grin that climbed up his lips when he saw the light tinge in the man’s cheeks, “I’m starting to feel self conscious.”
“We…we shouldn’t.” but Burr didn’t sound so sure.
“Why not?” Laurens was already placing a quick succession of kisses on his lips.
“Because this isn’t about you and me.”
That made Laurens pause, and he sat back, looking at the man across from him, confused.
“What do you mean.”
“I mean,” Aaron fidgeted, “this is about me saving you. It’s caused some sort of infatuation. I don’t want your hero worship, Laurens.”
John blinked, but smiled slowly.
“I don’t think that’s what this is.”
“You can’t know that.” Aaron responded, giving the man a hard look, before standing up and taking a few steps away, leaving his back to Laurens.
John quirked an eyebrow, getting up from the bed himself and walking to stand behind Aaron. He rested his chin on the man’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist.
“Well, why don’t we find out together?”
He felt Burr stiffen slightly before sighing and leaning into the hold.
“What if someone sees us?”
“No one will see us.”
Both men froze, their heads snapping to the source of the noise. Alexander stood at the entrance of the tent, arms crossed and eyebrows raised expectantly. Lafayette and Hercules were at his side, both looking at him with suggestive grins.
“I think you’ve kept the Lieutenant Colonel from resting long enough, Laurens.”
“Jealous, Hamilton?” John smirked, tightening his hold on Aaron’s waist slightly as the other man groaned in embarrassment.
Alexander sputtered, a blush of his own colouring his face. Lafayette and Hercules both broke out into laughter and Laurens’ smirk only grew.
“Just…come on.” Hamilton bit out, waving John over.
“Fine.” he said finally, but not before placing a kiss to Aaron’s neck, “Rest well, Lieutenant Colonel. We’re not finished here.”
“I thought not.” Burr sighed.
Laurens slipped his hands from around Aaron’s waist and followed the three men out of the tent, letting the flap drift closed behind him. Aaron watched them go, and, blinking slowly, he wondered to himself.
Had Laurens always looked so striking in his uniform?