"I'm the big, open oak tree, spreading its boughs, offering respite for your weary, tiny wings."
This is wrong. This is wrong on every level of wrong. But I couldn't help myself. And also, cienna made me do it. She forced me.
Inspired by this beautiful fic, I present to you a pornographic interpretation of current coalition negotiations. To be fair, it's also the fault of the press for going ON AND ON about how everyone is "flirting" and "courting" Nick Clegg. No writer such as myself could resist such blatant slashing.
BEFORE YOU READ THIS, PLEASE TAKE HEED OF THE WARNINGS.
Untitled
Rating: 15+
Words: 678
Summary: David Cameron/Nick Clegg dirty dirty political RPS. David comes to Nick with an offer.
THESE ARE YOUR WARNINGS. PLEASE TAKE NOTE: SLIGHTLY DUBCON POLITICAL RPS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I mean no offense to the parties involved, or to any readers, of any political persuasion (unless you vote BNP. Then I feel I have free reign to mock you to the end of time).
THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. SERIOUSLY. DON'T READ IT UNLESS YOU'RE SURE.
Untitled
David closed the heavy oak door behind him, sounding a loud slamming noise and a click like a lock snapping shut.
"Nick," he said. "We have a lot to talk about."
Slowly, the would-be Prime minister made his way across the plush, red carpet towards Nick, who stood still, surprised and wary. It was a dull London afternoon, and there was no warmth in the light that fell into the room from the tall windows.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, he knew. He should have been with Gordon. He should have been by himself, like he had always hoped. Like he had always wanted.
But David was coming closer, and there was a dangerous grin on his face and a cold look in his eyes. "I've offered you everything, Nick," he said. "I've offered you more than your puny little party could ever hope for. And this is how you repay me."
David stopped just close enough that if he reached out with those long, pale fingers he could touch Nick. David kept his arms loosely to his side and Nick suppressed the urge to take a step backwards. "I hear you've been talking to Gordon. Without me."
Nick gathered his strength, remembering how he had stood firm and confident in the face of the two more powerful men during those long debates on TV. Now, in an antiquated shadowy backroom in Westminster, with ceilings too high and windows too low, Nick felt trapped.
"I can speak to whomever I want," he said firmly
There was a flash of anger in David's eyes. "No, Nick," he said coolly, evenly. "You can't."
Suddenly, David shoved at Nick, crowding him back against the ancient panelled walls.
Nick tried to move to his right, out of David's space, away from the insistent Conservative’s body, but David threw up an arm, slamming it against the wood right beside Nick’s head.
Nick had never seen David like this; so furious and serious and homoerotic.
He found himself afraid, but was determined not to be cowed. He was leader of the third party, and he was well liked, and David Cameron was a Tory.
"Let me go, David," he insisted. "I've made you no promises. You won't get what you want like this."
David's grin widened, turned unfriendly in a way that made Nick uneasy.
"I won't?" He leaned in, bringing his other arm up to trap Nick completely. David leaned so close their noses were almost touching. "I could just take what I want."
David pushed his body flush against Nick's, ground down into him and Nick could smell the scent of expensive mouthwash and plastic, and could feel David, hard and heavy pushing against him.
David bent his head closer, his lips skimming across Nick's cheek to his ear, and whispered, hot and low, "A referendum, Nick. Doesn't that sound good?"
He pushed their hips together in emphasis, and, God, Nick had to admit that he wanted that.
They'd worked for so long, so hard, to get this close. He could feel it, taste it. He could touch it.
But this was David, Nick reminded himself sternly. There was no way it could be that easy. No way it would ever be that simple.
Nick didn't know what to say, had no idea how to answer, and lost any train of thought when David nibbled teasingly at his ear.
"You just think about it, Nick," he said, and with one last, long breath, David pushed himself back, letting his arms fall to his sides, smirking. "It could be good," he said, watching Nick's eyes and then his lips before looking him up and down in one slow slide of focus, assessing and plotting.
And then he turned away from Nick like nothing had ever happened. Like any other day in parliament. David turned away and walked back towards the tall oak doors and Nick was left standing, his legs weak, stunned and confused.
He had to make a decision, he knew, and it wasn't going to be easy.
THE END
I can't quite believe I wrote that... Err. Back to sanity now?
Inspired by this beautiful fic, I present to you a pornographic interpretation of current coalition negotiations. To be fair, it's also the fault of the press for going ON AND ON about how everyone is "flirting" and "courting" Nick Clegg. No writer such as myself could resist such blatant slashing.
BEFORE YOU READ THIS, PLEASE TAKE HEED OF THE WARNINGS.
Untitled
Rating: 15+
Words: 678
Summary: David Cameron/Nick Clegg dirty dirty political RPS. David comes to Nick with an offer.
THESE ARE YOUR WARNINGS. PLEASE TAKE NOTE: SLIGHTLY DUBCON POLITICAL RPS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I mean no offense to the parties involved, or to any readers, of any political persuasion (unless you vote BNP. Then I feel I have free reign to mock you to the end of time).
THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. SERIOUSLY. DON'T READ IT UNLESS YOU'RE SURE.
Untitled
David closed the heavy oak door behind him, sounding a loud slamming noise and a click like a lock snapping shut.
"Nick," he said. "We have a lot to talk about."
Slowly, the would-be Prime minister made his way across the plush, red carpet towards Nick, who stood still, surprised and wary. It was a dull London afternoon, and there was no warmth in the light that fell into the room from the tall windows.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, he knew. He should have been with Gordon. He should have been by himself, like he had always hoped. Like he had always wanted.
But David was coming closer, and there was a dangerous grin on his face and a cold look in his eyes. "I've offered you everything, Nick," he said. "I've offered you more than your puny little party could ever hope for. And this is how you repay me."
David stopped just close enough that if he reached out with those long, pale fingers he could touch Nick. David kept his arms loosely to his side and Nick suppressed the urge to take a step backwards. "I hear you've been talking to Gordon. Without me."
Nick gathered his strength, remembering how he had stood firm and confident in the face of the two more powerful men during those long debates on TV. Now, in an antiquated shadowy backroom in Westminster, with ceilings too high and windows too low, Nick felt trapped.
"I can speak to whomever I want," he said firmly
There was a flash of anger in David's eyes. "No, Nick," he said coolly, evenly. "You can't."
Suddenly, David shoved at Nick, crowding him back against the ancient panelled walls.
Nick tried to move to his right, out of David's space, away from the insistent Conservative’s body, but David threw up an arm, slamming it against the wood right beside Nick’s head.
Nick had never seen David like this; so furious and serious and homoerotic.
He found himself afraid, but was determined not to be cowed. He was leader of the third party, and he was well liked, and David Cameron was a Tory.
"Let me go, David," he insisted. "I've made you no promises. You won't get what you want like this."
David's grin widened, turned unfriendly in a way that made Nick uneasy.
"I won't?" He leaned in, bringing his other arm up to trap Nick completely. David leaned so close their noses were almost touching. "I could just take what I want."
David pushed his body flush against Nick's, ground down into him and Nick could smell the scent of expensive mouthwash and plastic, and could feel David, hard and heavy pushing against him.
David bent his head closer, his lips skimming across Nick's cheek to his ear, and whispered, hot and low, "A referendum, Nick. Doesn't that sound good?"
He pushed their hips together in emphasis, and, God, Nick had to admit that he wanted that.
They'd worked for so long, so hard, to get this close. He could feel it, taste it. He could touch it.
But this was David, Nick reminded himself sternly. There was no way it could be that easy. No way it would ever be that simple.
Nick didn't know what to say, had no idea how to answer, and lost any train of thought when David nibbled teasingly at his ear.
"You just think about it, Nick," he said, and with one last, long breath, David pushed himself back, letting his arms fall to his sides, smirking. "It could be good," he said, watching Nick's eyes and then his lips before looking him up and down in one slow slide of focus, assessing and plotting.
And then he turned away from Nick like nothing had ever happened. Like any other day in parliament. David turned away and walked back towards the tall oak doors and Nick was left standing, his legs weak, stunned and confused.
He had to make a decision, he knew, and it wasn't going to be easy.
THE END
I can't quite believe I wrote that... Err. Back to sanity now?