He knots, he does, and it almost hurts as it swells. Something compels him to twitch forward, grind himself deeper into Burr as he knots him tight, bearing his weight down and pressing, pressing. He can't go far, though, because Laurens has him, entirely has him.

A tangle of limbs. He is tucked against Burr, cradled in Burr's body, spread and held on Laurens. He can't help but purr, strong and content, eyes closed, as Laurens pets him and murmurs something inaudible against his shoulderblade. Surely Heaven would look down in dismay on such debauchery, but Hamilton cannot deny his bliss, here and now. There is no happier place to be than this, a satisfied-omega smell and claiming-alpha both.