You're mine, Hamilton says, and Burr comes hard--legs giving out, so that instead of resting his weight on his knees, on the log beneath them, he falls wholly into Hamilton's lap, clinging. His eyes close, and he rocks with it--waves of pleasure, keening as his cock shoots between their bodies.

"Alexander--" he says, a desperate, high-pitched thing. Doesn't know what he is asking for, perhaps nothing, but it feels right to say, as if in the throws of pleasure he could more fully contain him. He wants him to come inside, to knot, even here, in the middle of camp, where anyone might see. And perhaps that is what makes the orgasm harder, causing him to fuzz out, clenching down what must be painfully, and trying to drive the knot into him. He knows Hamilton needs this--needs to bring them together, needs them to be one.

"I'm yours," Burr says. "I need you," wanton, desperate.