Hamilton is purring by the time Burr wraps around him, and it only grows more regular, smooth, content, once Burr is in his arms.

"I'd told you, you were welcome," murmurs Hamilton. "Didn't I?" He feels used, he feels good. The wetness has him flushing, again; what alpha takes such pleasure in this? But his embarrassment is interrupted:

"And he was good," comes Laurens' murmur, as he stirs. "You were good to him, too," to Burr.