Discover Top Posts Tagged with #petite ville

Quartier Latin

Hi, so I got a request on AO3 by BeanieBaby667 to write the scene where Alex and John meet from John’s POV and so I delivered! I’m posting it here as it’s pretty short but I’ll probably regroup all the drabble for this verse on AO3 at some point. In the meantime, enjoy ❤️

Original work here

May was nice that year, John thought absently as he walked down the Parisian streets. It was still a little chilly in this midmorning and John was only wearing a denim jacket. But that was fine, he’d gone out last night with his friends to celebrate the end of the school year and had spend the night at Hercules’ place.

Well that was an understatement. He had plumped himself on the very comfortable sofa and closed his eyes for four hours more exactly. But that was ok, he was used to getting only a few – and sometimes none – hours of sleep and then disappear under his blankets for an entire weekend. This was an improvement from his usual bad habits, really.

He was walking aimlessly in the fifth arrondissement, thinking that he should probably eat something and get coffee before making any plans for the day.

Not that he needed to make plans since he was on vacations! Even more so since Anna told him not to come back to work until next week.

That was a weird thing. He was twenty-three and he had only finished his first year of art school. He knew that his circumstances were responsible for that and that in no case he was to blame for being several years behind his classmates. He shook his head to make the thoughts go away.

A few streets down, he spotted a small coffee shop and figured it’d do just as well as Starbucks.

He entered and ordered a Choco chip muffin with a caramel latte. He claimed one of the small tables and waited for his food to arrive.

John took a look around, he spotted a couple sharing a plate of waffles, a hipster reading Garcia Lorca and a man sighing loudly into his phone. His fingers were tapping the table impatiently and his face was growing more and more annoyed.

When John got his food, the guy was positively growling. John hid a chuckle behind his mug.

Then when he finally got a hold of someone, he started to half-shout in a mix of English and French. The patrons and staff shot him a few looks to which the guy remained totally indifferent. From what John gathered between the insults and the scowling was that the guy was having problems with his flight.

Now John could totally understand being angry with the transportation personnel and he had adopted the French tradition to loudly complain pretty easily. But even though sometimes they deserved to be yelled at, they were definitively not to blame for some volcano activities in fucking Iceland!

By the time the guy hung up, John had finished his muffin and coffee.

He stood up to leave. When he walked past the man’s table, he heard him groan loudly, his head in his hands.

“You alright there?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

The man raised his head up fast, it reminded John of a cartoon character. He bit back a smile.

“Uh,” the stranger said. “I’m fine.”

“You know,” John continued, not really sure why, “Paris is not the worst place to be stuck in.”

The other’s man eyes widen comically. They were dark and with a spark of something John couldn’t deny was absurdly attractive even if he couldn’t identify it.

“How do you know…?”

“Dude!” John laughed goodheartedly. “Everybody here heard that phone call! If you wanted privacy, you shouldn’t have screamed at that poor phone operator!” Deciding to be bold – because eh, what did he have to lose? – John pulled out the second chair and sat in front of the man. He knew he was gambling dangerously but he had never been one to make calculated decisions.

“So what do you need to come back to so ardently? Family?” John asked when he realized the guy was too flustered to respond. It was endearing.

“Just work,” he shrugged.

“Dude!” John exclaimed, almost outraged. “You’re telling me you get bonus holiday time in Paris and you’re complaining?” John couldn’t believe his own ears. Who was this guy? “Who are you?”

“Alexander Hamilton,” he replied. He offered his hand and John shook it, never breaking eye contact. And it was not because otherwise, seeing a perfect stranger biting his lips would have distracted him. Nope.

“John Laurens,” John said. “So what brings you to Paris?”

“I was here for a conference at the beginning of the week,” Alexander explained. “Was supposed to fly back this afternoon.”

“Wait so you haven’t seen the city since you arrived?” John was incredulous. At Alexander’s shrug, he said firmly but with enthusiasm: “No way! We’re changing that! You got a couple of days left right?”

Alexander nodded timidly and John thought for a second that he would tell him to get lost but he just gathered his stuff and left money for his coffee on the table.

“Let’s go!” he shot to John with a bright smile and oh John was in trouble.

#Lams #Lams AU #Lams fic #John Laurens #Alexander Hamilton #Always hopeful #Petite ville #Drabble