#historicalsecretsanta

This is for @littlewritingrabbit who I was a secret santa to. I know its a day late but I made sure it was good enough for you. I hope you enjoy it!! Happy holidays!!

genre: fluff! 

Alexander hesitantly peered down at the fresh corpse, grimacing at the exposed bones and intestines of the canon’s victim. He tried not to stare, but his eyes seemed to possess a magnetic pull towards the body. Flies would soon surround the body and the rest of nature would take over; the smell would become unbearable as it decayed. The face had no recognition to him, though he knew the man’s former family and friends could not say the same. The eyes attached to the body remained open, staring out into nothing but the smoky atmosphere surrounding them. He did not have a reason for this or for why he was so interested in this corpse when hundreds of others lay either dead or dying amoung the vast hill and cradling valley, dispersed throughout but mostly grouped at the front lines. He thought of his Laurens, miles away in South Carolina, hoping that he was not in the same state of the man he looked upon. “Mon ami.” The soft voice of his foreign friend jerked him away from the trance he was entrapped in. He blinked, not noticing the open stare he was giving before. He felt water brim his dry eyes with the pleasuring sting of his eyes regaining moisture. He felt the warm, gloved hand on his shoulder, a sudden shock of heat coursing through his body and fighting the chill within his bones. For a moment he thought it was John. “I feel it may be respectful to pray to God for his soul and family,” Lafayette spoke, the melancholy and guilt he felt for the stranger evident in his voice. The was a deep moment of silence as Lafayette prayed, though Alex could not bring himself to do the same. There was no God present when his mother died, nor when the brutal hurricane destroyed his town and killing everything in its path, like the flood in the story of Noah. Perhaps he was Noah; perhaps he was meant to survive so that he would live to see an olive branch like Noah. Perhaps this opportunity of war was his olive branch, or maybe it was luck that protected him and that would counsel him through the rest of life, however long that may be. “Mon ami, the General wishes to see you. It is of urgent circumstances.” The sentence quickly processed, and it was only a moment before Alexander turned around and walked. The spontaneous spin of his body caught the Marquis off guard. He instinctively side-stepped to prevent a collision between the two of them. The calm but conflicted soldiers--Lafayette more sprightly--make no sound as they hastily trod through the vermilion mud. The silence was understood, and Alexander only hoped it wouldn’t be interrupted with the jeering banter of irritated men surrounding a fire or a reprimand from his superiors that was still audible behind closed doors. However, Alex had noticed—that victory or not—the men and women surrounding him continually seemed somber as their population diminished each day with no telling or precaution. Or perhaps it was guilt that pinched each man’s skin for the acts of slaughter they performed on peaceful land. The camp as a whole seemed to be in a managing state, though not content or jovial. Alexander thought himself lucky to be in rank that receives more benefits than tense regulars and aching women. Relieving enough, only the clattering of pots and pans with the occasional crackle of the daylight fire could be heard as he walked while preparing himself for the conversation that was about to occur. “In there, mon ami,” Lafayette spoke up,  directing his hand perpendicular to the direction of the General’s quarters. Alex stopped and looked up the younger but taller soldier. He wouldn’t imagine the General wanting to meet him outside his quarters, let alone a barn. “The General summoned me here?” He inquired. Lafayette shrugged, not giving the satisfaction in an answer as Alexander had hoped. “I suppose so.” Seeing his job had been accomplished, Lafayette turned and walked away, leaving Alexander standing in front of a barn door in the middle of the day. He felt as if this was some sort of prank being played on him and took a hesitant advance towards the latch. Carefully he undid the latch, the wooden door creaking as it was displayed outwards.  The ground switched from dirt to hay as he entered, closing the door behind him.

As Alexander glanced from the latch to the open space of the dusty barn, his eyes widened. Before him was a familiar face, unlike the lifeless one he stared at earlier. Except for this time, his face was the one that seemed lifeless. John Laurens sat against a stack of hay, one leg bent up to his chest. He sat picking at a straw of golden wheat, smiling as he looked up to meet his lover’s gaze. His hair flowed back through a phantom of wind while the slivers of light shone on his face. He was truly a magnificent sight, unharmed and in good health. Alex didn’t think twice before he ran towards him, not even questioning if he was real or not. Laurens flattened his leg before Alex flung his body on him, wrapping his arms around his torso.

Alexander couldn’t notice the drops escaping his eyes as he squeezed his lover. He moved his legs over John’s waist, straddling him. He felt the warmth of John’s frame and melted like butter over a fire. Alex moved his face and looked into John’s light blue eyes. They held the passion he used to see each time they looked at each other. There was something within their intense gazes that pulled them closer. When John was gone, the gaze had turned into a void.

He felt John’s thumbs wipe the tears from his freckled cheeks and fingers bring his face closer to his, kissing him deeply. Their lips moved in perfect unison while Alexander’s hands went up to clasp around John’s neck. They continued the kiss until they were both in need of oxygen.

“Jack,” Alexander whispered as they separated their lips. His eyes fluttered as he searched for something else to say. John chuckled as he knew the trouble Alex had forming words despite his gabbing personality.

“W-when did you get here?” he settled on saying. He dove for another quick kiss.

“Just today,” John responded, running a hand through the shorter ends of Alexander's soft, red hair. The light that was on John’s face now highlighted each strand on Alex’s head, illuminating the red and orange hues that John cherished with his hands.

“How long will you be staying?” Alex asked. John smiled and brought Alexander’s face down, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“It doesn’t matter, along as I spend every moment of it with you.”