The air of the city was unfamiliar, yet enticing. It brought excitement, liveliness, the bustling business of the streets bringing a rush of adrenaline. It was nothing like the calm of South Carolina, and Geneva and London held a different kind of business. People simply going about their days, masses heading to and from work. New York was different, here, there was a flare of rebellion, a patriotic spark of action in the midst of chaos.

John Laurens had only just arrived, and already he felt it. He wished to be a part of that rebellion, to fight for the freedom of the country he loved. That's what he was here to do, to join the Continental Army and give his life to America.

Though a bit disappointed at his father interfering so he couldn't be on the front lines, John still had hope to get there someday. For now, he would work directly with the General, something he wouldn't necessarily mind for the time being.

Stepping into the camp was somewhat surreal for the new soldier, John felt as if he must be dreaming. The scattered bunkers and men in uniform brought a smile to his face. He knew that war wasn't pretty, that he could die in an instant if attacked by a brit, but he couldn't help but have a childish view of it. In his young mind, this was the best thing that could happen to him. He had finally been able to go through with what he wanted, against his old man's wishes.

The camp appeared more organized than John had expected, but then again, this wasn't the front lines, they were practically behind the scenes, merely training and planning for now. The soldiers were going about their days, some moving through the camp with a clear goal, as others lounged around, presumably taking a break. The overwhelming amount of red, white and blue from the uniforms left John with a feeling of inferiority; he didn't have his uniform yet.

John decided to approach one of the soldiers who didn't look busy; he was simply assembling his gun. The man was sat on a log, haunched over as he focused on his task. The brunet had his hair tied back, looking sleek and well kept, and though he had powdered his hair to appear white, John could still spot hints of brown. He appeared a bit frail, but it was difficult to tell how strong a man really was by just looking at him.

"Excuse me sir, sorry to bother, but do you by any chance know where General Washington is?" John asked, doing his best not to sound nervous. He was used to talking to scholars, to the wealthy and noble, and although some may find that more nerve wracking, that's what was normal for him- but he had no experience acting in a military setting.

"Non, I 'aven't seen the General zhis morning. You're new?" The man asked, his voice laced with a heavy french accent.

John held back a sigh of relief at how casual this was, he was being spoken to as an equal. He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes, I'm new... my father's acquainted with the General, I've come to be one of his aides-de-camp."

The frenchman's expression brightened, and he set his gun down, stepping closer to John. "Ah, you must be John Laurens, Washington said you'd be arriving soon." He offered his hand, a smile accompanying it.

"Yes, that's me." John took his hand, giving a firm shake as he returned the man's smile. "And you?"

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert de Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." The man replied, leaving John dumbfounded. He had never met someone with such a long name, and wasn't sure what to even call this man. He must have noticed John's blank expression, as he let out a chuckle. "Just Lafayette is fine."

"Ah, okay, well it's a pleasure meeting you, Lafayette." John said, pulling his hand back. He could only hope that the rest of the soldiers were friendly like him, but John knew that wasn't likely.

"The pleasure's mine, Monsiour Laurens." Lafayette stepped back, a thoughtful expression on his lightly freckled face. "The General may be training the troops to the west, but I'm not sure."

"I see, I'll look there, thank y-"

"Lafayette!" John was cut off by a new voice, and not any later than he saw the short, fiery redhead, was he already right there, flinging his arms around Lafayette from behind in an overly affectionate greeting.

"Washington wants you, he's training the troops to the west. You have to write a letter or something, he wanted me to do it but I reminded him of my full schedule." The boy spoke, his words spilling out faster than John could comprehend them. He released the frenchman, who turned to face him.

"Alright, alright. While I'm gone, why don't you 'elp out Monsiour Laurens?" Lafayette suggested, clearly amused as he gestured to John.

"Laurens?" The redhead now turned his attention to John, and the blond immediately regretted looking into those captivating violet eyes. The man was undeniably young, and short as well, John had quite a bit of height on him. His bright ginger hair was haphazardly thrown into a ponytail, many flyaway strands not complying with his demands. His cheeks were littered with an array of freckles, clear against his pale skin. John hadn't even noticed Lafayette leaving with some words of encouragement, he was too focused on the perfect looking human being in front of him.

"So you're John Laurens." John was snapped out of his daze by the young man's voice. That voice drew him in as well, it was smooth and held an air of superiority, and his accent wasn't quite American, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Before he could respond, he was prematurely cut off. "You're cuter than I expected. I'm Alexander Hamilton."

John brushed off the 'cute' comment as friendly teasing, as Alexander had a slight smirk on his face. He took the hand he was offered, and as soon as their skin was touching, John almost forgot what to do. Alexander's hand was soft against his, almost dainty, though his grip was strong. He felt a soft fluttering in his chest as he looked down at their hands, and this was when he started internally cursing himself.

He's a man, stop it! Not again, not after last time. John pulled his hand back, although reluctantly. He only just noticed how warm his cheeks were, and over practically nothing.
Sure, he's attractive, but get ahold of yourself!

"You're really quiet, can you even talk?" Alexander asked, taking a step closer, though that only made him have to look up more. "I expected the son of a slave trader to be more arrogant."

"Don't compare me to my father." The words just slipped out without John thinking, but he didn't take them back. Normally, he would keep his mouth shut in these situations, cast his own beliefs aside; if it was a noble, that was.

"Ah, he speaks." Alexander chuckled, slowly shaking his head as his expression turned mischievous. "Why shouldn't I, though? From what I've heard, you do whatever your father wants. The most rebellious thing you've done is come here, but even now you're taking the job he got for you. I assume you have all the same beliefs." He stated it matter-of-factly, his eyes holding a challenging glint.

This was a challenge John was going to take.

"I do not support slavery, it is cruel and inhumane and I hardly agree with my father on anything." John responded with a small, childish huff. "Haven't you heard of parental pressure? I just don't want to be disowned."

Alexander seemed to process that for a moment, slowly nodding. "I see... I suppose I've never had to worry about that with having no parents." He said nonchalantly. "But you seem rather upset over a simple statement. Are you that sensitive? Seems childish to me."

John felt a surge of annoyance bubbling up inside him, though unfortunately that wasn't enough to completely mask how attracted he felt to this young man. "Whatever, I'm probably older than you. You're the one acting childish."

"Really now? You look young." Alexander trailed his eyes over John, seemingly studying him. "I'm nineteen."

"Twenty two." John replied, crossing his arms. He felt a bit of pride that he was right, though he knew it didn't really matter.

"Whatever, that's only three years." Alexander blew a stray strand of hair out if his face, before looking up into John's eyes. "You don't seem as bad as I expected, at least you don't support slavery." His air of superiority faded, and instead he offered a friendly smile. "Come on, I'll show you around."

John was surprised; Alexander's hostility had simply disappeared. Was it an act? Was he testing him? Either way, he couldn't stop the fluttering in his chest when Alex smiled like that, no matter how much he wanted to. He offered a slight smile back, deciding it would be best to drop the hostility as well- at least for now.

"That'd be nice." He said, only hoping that he would be able to stop himself from getting too close to this man. He could simply avoid him after today, for his own sake.