aka Lolitics is my 6th sense

[lolitics_meme]

Welcome to our glorious sixth post.

That's right: 6! But let's move on to not bore you with interesting facts ;)

All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
Otherwise it will get very chaotic.

Places of interest:
1) Unfilled prompts can be found on

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FILL: Lord, I'm Suffering [4a/5]

[mordentlore]

Although his life had not exactly been predictable since coming out, since meeting David and James, Crispin found himself surprised by the reception the lobbyist had when he opened the door. “Hey Cris -” James cut off mid sentence and turned around. “David!” He shouted, his voice tenser, curter than Crispin had ever heard it. “You have visitors.”

“Uh huh.” David emerged from the kitchen, scrunching a packet of crisps in his hand. It wasn’t the first time Crispin had seen him in casual clothes, but he noticed - for the millionth time - how good David looked in jeans. It was a pointless observation. The younger man looked distracted. “Crispin, can you show Mr Hague into the study?” He didn’t want for a response and disappeared after James, who’d retreated to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” William asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Sit down.” Crispin took uncertain steps towards the doorway. The door was ever so slightly open, and he watched.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” David’s voice was softer than it was when Crispin normally heard it.

“I don’t like that man in my house.” James’ voice was still tense and curt, with an edge like breaking glass.

“Crispin?”

“Don’t be a prick.” James snapped, slamming the plate he’d been washing up down on the side. “Hague.”

“I don’t -”

“Were you affected by Section 28?” The lobbyist rounded on his partner. “You went to university in fucking 1983! I put up with fucking Thatcher and her cronies - like your charming friend in there - claiming that the support group that I went to every week was promoting unhealthy lifestyles, to see it closed down - this didn’t affect you, but it affected me!”

“William wasn’t -”

“He supported it though.” The look on James’ face was ugly. Something smashed - Crispin couldn’t see what. “Go ahead, play the supporter, Laws. But I’m not going to join in, not with - him.” He put the dish cloth down on the side and left the room.

“Alright, Blunt.” David said roughly, rubbing his eyes. “I know you watched.”

“Sorry.”

---

“What’s the problem?” David leant forward on his elbows. He looked tired, old before his time.

“I -” William bit his lip.

Crispin would have smacked his head against the desk, but he was sitting next to a corner, and James wouldn’t be best impressed if he had to clean up blood again. David and William, he thought absentmindedly, suited each other. And he was a little glad he wasn’t James or Ffion.

“Right.” David’s face was pale, his lips drawn thinner. There was a brief flash, the memory of a haunted face looking at a camera, and Crispin pushed that memory back. “Can we get one thing straight?”

“What?” The Foreign Secretary asked in a subdued tone.

“My partner is upstairs. He won’t come down until after you’ve gone because, quite frankly, your presence is offensive to him. And I’ve put him through enough shit, and if I’d realised how he felt I wouldn’t have told Crispin to bring you here.” David ran a hand through his hair. “So please don’t waste my time.”