John's day had been spent filling out applications for various summer internships at a collection of hospitals and medical research facilities across the city; he had probably filled out over a dozen applications, wanting to guarantee he would get one. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand sitting around all summer.

John was sprawled out on his couch watching a program on the History Channel about World War II, John loved educational programs, the thunderstorm outside his windows causing him to slightly dozing off when he was startled to reality by a series of rapid knocks on his door. He jumped so badly that his lap desk with applications resting on fell of its place on his stomach, he had been too lazy to set it down, and tumbled to the floor. After quickly picking up the desk and a few of the fallen papers, he trotted over to the door, eager to silence the knocks. To say he was shocked to see the person standing opposite him when he opened the door would be an understatement.

"Oh! Alexander?" John tried to keep his tone from seeming too bewildered, but failed miserably; he also knew his eyes were wide and his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, Alexander," John said once more, this time his voice filled with pity, after he had taken in the boy's appearance. His soaked hair was plastered to his face and dripping water onto his shoulders; like his hair, his clothes were drenched to the point where they hung heavy on his frame and stuck to his skin; there was dried blood around his nose, which looked slightly broken to John's semi-trained eye, and more evidence of a nosebleed manifested itself in the splatters of blood going down the front of his shirt and the small drops on his shoes; and his eyes were red-rimmed, dismal, and filled with tears that threatened to overflow at any moment. In that moment, John wanted nothing more than to wrap Alexander up in his arms and never let go.

"I'm really sorry," Alexander began, his arms hanging slack at his sides, "I had no where else to go and home was so faraway," he offered John what he intended to be a friendly grin, but it ended up being a heartbreaking smile as a tear slipped down his face.

"It's fine, Alexander, it really is," John tried to assure the boy as he grabbed his arm, pulling him into his apartment and closing the door. "Do you need anything?" John asked as he turned to grab Alexander a towel, after the words escaped his mouth he realized what a stupid question it was - of course he needed something. John tried to walk quickly to the closet and back, not wanting to leave Alexander alone, even it was just for a second.

Alexander hadn't moved a muscle in John's short absence, letting the water drip off him and form small puddles at his feet. "Could I have some water?" Alexander spoke, barely above a whisper as John handed him one towel and laid another on the floor, motioning for Alex to stand on it to soak up the dripping water. John noticed Alexander's balance was slightly off as he swayed a bit and he smelled the alcohol on his breath, and John wondered how much the boy had drank.

"Of course," John smiled warmly and walked to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. With Alexander's back now to him, he eyed the boy not necessarily suspiciously, but weary nonetheless. He had no clue what his problem was, yet he found himself wanting to know, no matter how burdening it might be. He made a promise with himself to not let Alexander slip through his fingers again. "Here," John handed Alexander the glass of water, who practically threw his head back and chugged the drink. John shot him an amused look and stifled a laugh.

"Sorry," Alexander tentatively flashed a small smile as he placed the cup back into John's hand.

The two boys stood in awkward silence for a few moments before John quickly spun around and placed the cup on the counter and, spinning back around, grabbed Alexander's towel-wrapped arm. "Let's go get you cleaned up," he started to pull Alexander towards the bathroom while holding his arm to make sure he was steady, not really caring what the other boy wanted and, thankfully, Alexander obediently followed.

Now in John's bathroom, a place Alexander was starting to become familiar with, John sat Alexander down on the side of the tub. While John ran a washcloth under warm water to clean the blood off Alexander, Alex took his shoes and socks off, relieved to have his feet out of the pool they had been swimming in. He dumped the excess water out of his shoes into the tub and set them aside to dry.

"Tell me if this hurts," John knelt down in front of Alexander, a position that almost could have been intimate but neither boy thought anything of it, and went to wipe his nose with the damp cloth, very lightly as to not cause the boy too much pain. John could see bruising starting to form on Alexander's nose and the bridge of the boy's nose was slightly askew. When John made contact, Alexander instantly recoiled, a few tears spilling over and running down his cheeks. "Okay, so it hurts," John couldn't help but chuckle at the unfortunate boy as he dramatically nodded his head. "Do you want to do it?" John asked, offering him the cloth. Alexander simply shook his head. "I'll try to be gentle then," John promised. He brought the washcloth back up to Alexander's nose, noticing how tightly shut Alexander's eyes were and how his knuckles were whitening as he clinched his hands into fists to take the pain.

After one stroke, Alexander pulled his head back, and John was forced to place his empty hand on the back of Alex's head to get the job done. As he went on, removing the dried blood from Alexander's face, John's fingers wove their way throughout Alexander's messy hair. Alexander took notice of course, but said nothing, focusing on the concentrated look on John's face. Alexander also noticed how John's fingers lingered for a stray second after John had finished and set the washcloth down. The boys made eye contact, John's murky hazel eyes searching into Alexander's swirling dark brown ones, trying to find something other than sadness and self-pity.

Thankfully, the storm outside had calmed since Alexander arrived at John's; there was no more lightening and the thunder came sporadically ever several minutes or so. Alexander was able to calm himself down internally, not letting the anxiety spill over anymore, and the shutters at the thunder he was able to pass off as shutters of pain from his nose. He was extremely glad that his nervous breakdowns were not something John had to deal with right now too.

"So are you going to tell me what happened or just leave me hanging?" John said after a moment, deciding he should get Alexander talking.

"I'd rather just not talk about it," Alexander tried to stand up, but John, still kneeling in front of him, pushed him back onto the edge of the bathtub.

"Then, I'll talk for you," John announced. "Your nose looks broken and it obviously bled, so I'm assuming you got punched pretty hard. Your knuckled are slightly discolored, so I'd say you punched back, and you smell like alcohol, so I'm gonna go with bar fight," John offered Hamilton his explanation. Alexander nodded, impressed with John, not realizing until now how smart the boy must be. "Okay, well, bar fights are bad, but it's alright. And I don't need to know how you ended up here, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to," John told him, figuring out pretty quickly that Alexander wasn't in the mood for answering questions.

"I hate to ask but, do you think I could maybe borrow some clothes? Mine are all, well," Alexander used his hands to gesture to his drenched clothing; it was pretty self explanatory why he was asking.

"Of course, Alexander. You don't need to think you are a burden, I really am happy to help. I'm glad you're here," John smiled warmly, but instantly toned it down to just a friendly grin. Thankfully, Alex smiled back, and John swore he saw a rosy tint creep into Alexander's cheeks.

"I just feel really weird about this whole thing because we actually know nothing about each other, yet here I am, in your apartment for the second time asking for clothes..." Alexander trailed off, deciding to not embark on the rant he felt coming. John didn't answer right away, instead standing up and walking the short distance to the bedroom; not wanting to be alone in the bathroom, Alexander followed John, leaning up against the wall and watching as John pulled open various drawers, throwing the items he retrieved from them onto the bed behind him.

"Honestly, Hamilton, stop the whole self-pity thing, I see right through it," John smiled knowingly at the other boy while tossing him the clothes, first a gray t-shirt, then blue pants, and, last, a pair of black socks, which Alex caught between his outstretched fingers, earning an impressed look from John.

"What'd you mean?" Alexander straighten his back and organized the items in his hands, narrowing his eyes at John.

"You're not weak, Alexander, we both know that, so stop pretending to be. You don't need to worry if I will still like you if you are yourself, no matter how stubborn or abrasive you can be. I assure you whatever you throw my way, I can launch back at you," John may have been a little to revealing in his intentions than he meant to be, but he didn't realize what he was saying until the words were already out in the air.

Thankfully Alexander didn't miss a beat, either not noticing how forward John had just been or being pleased by it. "Be carefully what you wish for, Laurens," Alexander retorted, pursing his lips slightly and cocking one eyebrow as if to say "try me."

John laughed and shook his head, picking up on Alexander's very obvious playfulness and wondered if it was the boy flirting with him. "Go get changed, man," John told Alexander, still laughing while pointing to the bathroom. Alexander complied and shut himself in the bathroom, peeling off his soiled garments and tugging on the borrowed ones, taking care not to bump his nose too much with the shirt as he pulled it over his head. Bending over to put the socks on his cold feet, Alexander fully realized that the pants that had been loaned to him were flannel pajama pants; putting two and two together, he felt his face flush, John intended for him to stay for the night. While he highly doubted John had any intentions for the night that would not fall under the platonic category, the fact he was going to sleep in John's apartment made Alexander fidget with his hands anxiously, but Alexander could not suppress the feeling on excitement that rose with the unease.

When he reached down to retrieve his pants and shirt from their position on the hardwood floor of the bedroom, he saw something fall through the air and land with a small click in the place vacated by the clothing. Bending over to pick in up Alexander found it was his elusive MetroCard that he failed to find in his pocket earlier that night. Some higher power was definitely toying with him, Alexander concluded; the only reason he was at John's now was the chain of events that happened after he couldn't find his MetroCard. Then, of course, it decides to makes it grand appearance when he is already stuck at John's for the night. He shot the card an annoyed glare, while silently thanking it for its untimely disappearance, and slipped it into the pocket of the loaned pajama pants, which Alexander was pleased to find had pockets.

John was forced to stifle a giggle as Alexander walked out to join him in front of the TV due to the fact that the ends of the pants Alexander was clad in dragged the floor slightly; John had longer legs than Alexander, their height difference being around three inches, and while it wasn't much, it was enough to make the sight a bit comical. Shooting John a playful glare, Alexander took a seat at the far end of the couch from John. After a while of lazily watching a brainless conspiracy show, John spoke, "Alexander, come here," the command exiting his mouth just barely above a whisper. Something inside Alex was slightly stirred at John uttered those words, though Alexander stuffed the feeling down quickly before he could even think of acting on it. Instead, he scooted down the couch until he was sitting next to John. "Do you want me to try to realign your nose?" John inquired, "It's not that bad, I could do it, I'm sure," he was trying to assure himself as much as he was trying to assure Alexander.

"Sure, Mr. I-wanna-be-a-doctor, fix me right up," Alexander smiled, his tone showed his confidence in John.

"Okay, here, face me," John instructed and Alexander complied. "I'm not gonna tell you this won't hurt because it's gonna hurt like hell," John didn't sugarcoat it as he brought his hands up to the other boy's face, gingerly placing his fingertips on either side of the bridge of Alexander's nose. He was grateful there was minimal swelling, or he would be taking Alex to the ER at the moment instead. John ever so slightly increased the pressure, just to test the other boy's resolve, and instantly there were two tanned hands grasping John's, jerking them away. John scoffed and shook his head, "Hold on to this pillow, it might help," John shoved a pillow into Alexander's hands to keep them occupied.

"If you had just done it quick, there wouldn't be a problem," Alexander practically whined. John chose to ignore him, putting his focus back on the crooked nose. His fingertips found their place on the bridge again, and Alexander's eyes squeezed shut. With one swift movement, John applied ample pressure, hearing the satisfying pop that signified he had done the job correctly. "Fuck!" Alex swore, his fists full of pillow and tears streaking down his cheeks in the same paths that had been forged earlier. "Oh my sweet fuck," Alexander continued to swear, making up different combinations of as many vulgar words he could conjure up.

"My real first patient," John tried not to sound excited. He could only imagine the pain Alexander felt, but at least one of the boys had somewhat enjoyed that. "Bless your heart," John couldn't help but let the Southern expression slip from his mouth, poking fun at Alexander's reaction.

"Don't even," Alexander huffed, quickly wiping away his tears.

"Only joking, Alexander, do calm down," John chuckled at the older boy. They went back to watching TV in silence, side by side. Eventually the throbbing radiating across Alexander's face subsided slightly, and he sunk into the couch a bit, fighting to keep his eyes open and his head off John's shoulder, something he dreadfully wanted to do but shook the thought away because of what the action might entail.

John, noticing his dreariness, broke the silence, and Alexander's earlier realization was confirmed when John said, "I figured you could just sleep here for tonight, I have an extra bedroom, so its no trouble, really. Just tell me when you want to go to sleep and I'll show you to it."

"I think now would be a good time," Alexander smiled through a yawn, it was almost one in the morning after all.

"Come on, then," John stood up, tugging the sleeve of Alexander's t-shirt. John internally patted himself on the back for the choice of the shirt he gave Alex, the boy looked amazing in gray, somehow making it seem like a bright, happy color. After leaning over to turn off the lamp beside the couch, John began to tread to the spare bedroom, Alexander in tow. "Here you go," John flicked on the lights as Alexander entered the room. It was nicely decorated with a deep blue bedspread, the same light gray walls as the apartment, black wooden furniture, and airy white curtains. Alexander turned on a lamp that sat on the night stand and sat down on the bed, his legs hanging over the side, while John shut the blinds and pulled the curtains together to keep out the sun that would try to stream into the room come morning time. As he began to walk out of the room, John spoke to Alexander, "You can sleep as long as you want, don't think you need to be up and out of here at the crack of dawn."

"Wait, John," Alexander called out before he knew what he was doing as John's finger lingered over the light switch. What Alex said next, he can only think to blame on the slight high he was still riding from his alcohol consumption, "Do I make you feel the same way that you make me feel?" he asked his eyes finding John's widening ones as he spun around the face Alexander. John, who looked absolutely lost for words, could only manage a short, quick nod that was almost impossible to catch.

"Alexander, I-" John started, not really knowing what he was going to say.

"No, I'm sorry, that was weird. We don't have to talk about it," Alexander felt like banging his head against the wall repeatedly at his stupidity. The poor boy hadn't picked up on John's nod, so he was thinking he had thrown himself over a cliff to see if he would fly only to get shot down. Before he registered what John was doing, he was at his side, sitting on the bed, his hand over Alexander's.

"You do, Alexander," John's were simple, but they made Alexander go crazy inside, his cheeks heating up, and his heart thumping against his rib cage. Outside, his body relaxed, shoulders falling, and he let out a breathy sigh. "All I know is that I have to have you in my life. I don't understand it, but its the only thought my mind can focus on," John continued, seeing the reaction his previous words had on the boy.

"The feeling is mutual," Alexander's face broke out into a smile, observing the way John's freckles now stood out against his flushed face. The two boy's shared a sweet moment, learning the depths of each other's eyes, Hamilton's thin, long fingers still in the grasp of Laurens' strong ones. Letting the moment wash over him, John leaned over, his other hand finding a place on Alexander's thigh, as he pressed his lips to the boy's temple, deciding it was a more suitable place than the older boy's lips at the current time. When he pulled away he found Alexander regarding him with a surprised look on his face, his lips slightly parted and his eyes resembling that of a young fawn. Their faces were only a few inches apart, Alexander could feel John's hot, shaking breath on his face as John cast his eyes down, only slightly embarrassed more just waiting for Alexander to make the next move.

Alexander pulled his unoccupied hand up to John's curls, running his fingers through them until he reached the boy's jawline; placing his forefinger on the soft underside of John's chin, he pushed his face up until they were making eye contact again, John's soft hazel eyes full of hope. "Thank you," Alexander whispered, using the two short words to encompass everything John had done since they met, Alexander even grateful for the coffee incident that had ruined his favorite shirt.

John matched the grin Alexander was flashing at him, "Sleep well, Alexander," he tore himself away, deciding in that moment that he did not want to have to leave Alexander at night instead of climbing into bed beside him again, longing to fall asleep holding the boy's hand and feeling his body warm against his.