"Crap," John mumbled to himself as he spilled a bit of his caramel latte down the side of his cup and onto his hand. He was comfortably seated at his favorite table in his favorite coffee shop in Manhattan; he had decided he was going to stick to this shop for a while, and not venture too far out anymore. He rose from his seat and walked to the self service station to grab a couple of napkins and wiped down his cup and hands. As he made his way back to his table, his eyes wandered, as they usually did, around his fellow customers. "Crap," he heard himself mumbled once again. In the short time he had spent away from his table, someone had sat down at the neighboring table, and that person was none other than the boy John had had the embarrassing run-in with the previous day: Hamilton. 'Just my luck,' John sighed as he walked past Hamilton, he sipped his coffee, praying Hamilton wouldn't notice him; he was sure Hamilton would waste no opportunity to deck him in the face.

Now seated at his table, he eyed Hamilton from his new vantage point. The boy had his eyes fixed on his laptop as his hand feverishly moved over the keys. However, John was startled when he realized the boy was wearing the exact outfit he had been wearing the previous day, coffee stain and all. John was entranced with the boy, staring at him intently, trying to figure him out. Then, Hamilton looked up to take a sip from his coffee, and made eye contact with John. 'The universe must really hate me,' John thought, mentally slapping his forehead, as he heard the other boy say, "The universe must really love me."

"I have been really regretting what happened yesterday, how I acted. I had accepted the fact that I wouldn't be able to apologize, but here you are. What are the odds! So I'm sorry. I'm not usually like that. I hope I can make it up to you," Hamilton was speaking a million words a minute, obviously caught up in a caffeine-induced firestorm. Now, Hamilton was the one offering his hand to John.

John slowly took his hand and lightly shook it, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He read Hamilton's eyes, which were a dark, swirling brown and accented by massive bags, showing Hamilton's exhausted state; John could find nothing malevolent there, only hopeful kindness, so he said, "It's fine," so soft it was almost a whisper.

"Great! My name is Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton," he flashed a goofy smile and, to John's slight annoyance, pulled his chair over to join John at his table, bring his laptop and crinkled papers with him.

"I'm, uh," John really didn't know how to answer. He decided his name was a good start. "I'm John Laurens."

"I'm sorry. For my lack of boundaries, I mean. I've been up all night, and this is my fifth double espresso since about nine last night," Alexander gestured to his cup. "But, I am also sorry for what happened yesterday."

"I said it was fine," to say John was confused would be a understatement. He was still a little weary of the disheveled boy that was sitting across from him.

"No, no, it's not fine. Please, let me explain," Alexander looked ready to launch on a tirade. John gestured with his hand, giving his permission. "I like to think I am actually a fairly alright person. Those guys I hang out with are vicious, they jump at the opportunity to tear people up. So, naturally, I had to go along with that act when you knocked me down yesterday. You see, I have to try my hardest to fit in with them because I'm different, and it helps me to be in with them. Hard to explain and it doesn't really matter, actually. I hope you don't think I'm one of those 'easily influenced' or 'fake' people. Really, I did it for you," Hamilton had been ranting to the table, not making eye contact with the boy across the table from him, but with his last sentence, he raised his head and offered John a soft smile.

John couldn't explain why, but when Alexander smiled at him, his walls crumbled. His eyebrows knitted together as he gave Alexander a quizzical look. "For me?" he asked, trying to sound more doubtful than hopeful.

"Yes, for you. I knew that if I didn't do something rude, those guys I was with would have done something ten times worse. You seem nice and all, that's it," Hamilton's excuse may have been a little lackluster, but John fell for every bit of it.

"Oh, well, thank you, I suppose," John had to raise his coffee cup to his lips and take a sip to mask the smile that was tugging at his lips. Setting his cup back onto the table, John's eyes fell onto the coffee splatter plastered on Alexanders wrinkled green button up. "And, I'm sorry for that.".

"For wha-?" Alexander's eyebrows knitted in confusion for a moment. "Oh, this!" he exclaimed after John nodded towards the stain. He pulled the bottom of his shirt to get a better look at the blotch. "It's really not bad, I just couldn't get the stain out with water and cheap coffee shop napkins."

"I assume you didn't go home last night then?" John prompted the other boy.

"No, I didn't," a small, embarrassed blush began to creep into Alexander's cheeks. "I, uh, lost the key to my apartment, and my landlord was actually out of town last night, so I couldn't get a replacement key. I'm sorry if I smell or something like that," he turned his face and raised his arm to check if he did smell. He scrunched his face up and recoiled, earning a soft laugh from Laurens. Alexander seemed taken back for a second at the fact he actually garnered a laugh from John, but his face quickly shifted into a small, but warm, smile.

The two boys shared a few moments of humorous eye contact before John broke it with a proposition. "If you wanted, I would be open to letting you use my shower, and maybe you could borrow a shirt," John couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. "Ya know, only if you wanted," he added in attempt to not sound so bold. As an afterthought, he added a smile to his offer, as well.

"No, no, I didn't mean to impose. I am fine, really," something seemed to have instantly shifted in the air as Hamilton suddenly seemed more guarded. The light that had been glowing in his eyes dimmed, and there was something that bordered on sadness in his face, John thought.

"Actually, I need to get going. I really need to finish this paper, and you are a very distracting person," Alexander began to gather his papers and pushed back in his chair to stand up. John felt himself blushing; he internally laughed at himself for being so silly, he highly doubted Alexander had meant that last comment the way John's brain wanted to take it.

"Hamilton," John semi-pleaded, catching the other boy's attention before he took off. "You said you don't have a key to your apartment, so where are you going to go? Looking like that no less," Laurens joking scoffed at Alexander's unkempt appearance.

Alexander froze at the sound of his name. As John commented on the state of his appearance, he smiled at the ground, chuckling lightly to himself. He decided to give in, as he had been trapped by his own comments. "I guess I will have to take you up on your offer, Laurens, lead the way," He gestured with his hand towards the door as John finished up his coffee. John felt a tiny surge within him as he noticed the light has reignited itself in Alexander's eyes. Hamilton tucked his laptop and papers under his arm and followed John, who was making a beeline for the door. As they past the trashcan, both boys dropped their coffee cups in.

"That went a lot smoother than last time I did that," John joked as him and Alexander stepped out into the street. Alexander laughed, this time more openly than he had in the coffee shop. John decided he really liked the sound of Hamilton's laugh and would try to hear it as often as he could.

They walked down the busy Manhattan street, side by side, a comfortable silence falling over them. It was broken when Alexander turned his head towards Laurens and softly spoke, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Laurens almost stopped dead in his tracks when those words came out of his mouth, but, to avoid not being trampled by the traffic, he kept pace with Alexander. He focused on his footsteps for a moment, left, right, left, right, while his brain tried to grasp a suitable answer. The fact was, John had no clue. In two short encounters, Alexander had humiliated him and puzzled him, yet he had managed to grip of John's mind and didn't seem to be relinquishing any of his hold. Still fixated on his shoes, John's eyes drifted for a second to Alexander's scuffed loafers. 'Scuffed-shoe boy,' John internally laughed at the nickname he had given Alexander the previous day. He realized, as odd as it may sound, his shoes were the reason he was being so nice to him, but he couldn't exactly say that to him. John also fought the sudden, and surprising, urge to take Alexander's hand in his; just something about the tone of the boy's voice had tugged at John's heartstrings.

"Honestly, I don't know," Laurens decided to reply.

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Author's Note

ok few things:

-i don't know why i keep talking about shoes?

-i can't really find a good way of explaining john's attraction to alexander. it's just, like, one of those love at first sight sort of things, john just hasn't figured the love part out yet.

-i know i keep switching back and forth between alexander & hamilton and john & laurens deal with it