FIC: It's Now or Never
Oct. 10th, 2011 01:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFandom: UK Politics
Title: It's Now or Never
Ship(s): Michael Gove/George Osborne, David Cameron/Michael Gove/George Osborne
Word Count: 517
Rating: PG-13
Summary: David walks in on a compromising situation. Written for the Gove rare!pair party at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
It's Now or Never
The first inkling of trouble that Michael has is the sound of the door opening and the clear, distracted voice of their boss. “George?”
George jumps, pushing with his knees, and Michael obediently makes himself as small as he can in the small space beneath the desk, while still minding his teeth.
“Yes?” George says, with a distinct wobble in his voice. Michael rolls his eyes.
A moment of silence.
“Oh my god,” David says, no longer sounding distracted, “do you have a hooker under your desk?”
Michael regretfully lets George’s cock drop from his mouth, and starts to try to tuck him back in. George shoves his hands away and does it himself.
“Because I stood by you over the Natalie thing,” David is saying, his voice going higher by the moment, “and you said it hadn’t happened since, and now you’ve brought a prostitute into Number Eleven…”
Michael thumps his head on the desk trying to extricate himself. “Calm down, dear,” he says, shoving at George’s legs. “I’m not a prostitute.”
He emerges, feeling distinctly rumpled, to see David gaping like a fish.
Michael crosses his arms and waits.
“Michael,” David finally gets out.
“Just because you’re Prime Minister,” Michael says, “doesn’t mean that you don’t have to knock.”
“You were…”
“Sucking his cock, yes,” Michael says. He feels a smirk pulling at his mouth.
David gapes at him.
Michael continues. “Now, you have three options. One, give us both the sack. Which would probably bring down the government.”
George makes a distressed noise. Michael ignores him.
“Two,” he says, and uncrosses his arms so he can tick off his fingers, “you can walk back out that door and try to forget about us. And knock next time.”
“And three?” David says, after a moment.
Michael lets the smirk come through. “Three, you can join us.” The smirk turns into a bit of a leer. He won’t apologise for being who he is. David can lump it.
David closes his eyes. Michael turns to grin down at George, who looks a bit ill.
George’s eyes widen. “David,” he says.
Michael turns around again, only to find himself being kissed, quite determinedly, by the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
He laughs against David’s mouth; opens his own, letting David taste George on his tongue; reaches for David’s hips and pulls him in.
George stands up behind them, and after a minute Michael releases David into his arms. As much as Michael’s always fantasised about David, he knows that George has been much worse off. And what is growing up, if not learning to share one’s toys?
“You know,” he says, as he watches the Prime Minister and the Chancellor kissing, all teeth and hands and pent-up desire, “this may just be the most dysfunctional government of all time.”
Michael doesn’t think they’ve heard him, intent as they are, but after a moment David breaks the clinch. He’s breathing hard. “We’ll never take that title from the last government,” he says, grinning, eyes dancing. “Now get in here.”
Michael grins back, and dives in.
~//~
Title: It's Now or Never
Ship(s): Michael Gove/George Osborne, David Cameron/Michael Gove/George Osborne
Word Count: 517
Rating: PG-13
Summary: David walks in on a compromising situation. Written for the Gove rare!pair party at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
It's Now or Never
The first inkling of trouble that Michael has is the sound of the door opening and the clear, distracted voice of their boss. “George?”
George jumps, pushing with his knees, and Michael obediently makes himself as small as he can in the small space beneath the desk, while still minding his teeth.
“Yes?” George says, with a distinct wobble in his voice. Michael rolls his eyes.
A moment of silence.
“Oh my god,” David says, no longer sounding distracted, “do you have a hooker under your desk?”
Michael regretfully lets George’s cock drop from his mouth, and starts to try to tuck him back in. George shoves his hands away and does it himself.
“Because I stood by you over the Natalie thing,” David is saying, his voice going higher by the moment, “and you said it hadn’t happened since, and now you’ve brought a prostitute into Number Eleven…”
Michael thumps his head on the desk trying to extricate himself. “Calm down, dear,” he says, shoving at George’s legs. “I’m not a prostitute.”
He emerges, feeling distinctly rumpled, to see David gaping like a fish.
Michael crosses his arms and waits.
“Michael,” David finally gets out.
“Just because you’re Prime Minister,” Michael says, “doesn’t mean that you don’t have to knock.”
“You were…”
“Sucking his cock, yes,” Michael says. He feels a smirk pulling at his mouth.
David gapes at him.
Michael continues. “Now, you have three options. One, give us both the sack. Which would probably bring down the government.”
George makes a distressed noise. Michael ignores him.
“Two,” he says, and uncrosses his arms so he can tick off his fingers, “you can walk back out that door and try to forget about us. And knock next time.”
“And three?” David says, after a moment.
Michael lets the smirk come through. “Three, you can join us.” The smirk turns into a bit of a leer. He won’t apologise for being who he is. David can lump it.
David closes his eyes. Michael turns to grin down at George, who looks a bit ill.
George’s eyes widen. “David,” he says.
Michael turns around again, only to find himself being kissed, quite determinedly, by the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
He laughs against David’s mouth; opens his own, letting David taste George on his tongue; reaches for David’s hips and pulls him in.
George stands up behind them, and after a minute Michael releases David into his arms. As much as Michael’s always fantasised about David, he knows that George has been much worse off. And what is growing up, if not learning to share one’s toys?
“You know,” he says, as he watches the Prime Minister and the Chancellor kissing, all teeth and hands and pent-up desire, “this may just be the most dysfunctional government of all time.”
Michael doesn’t think they’ve heard him, intent as they are, but after a moment David breaks the clinch. He’s breathing hard. “We’ll never take that title from the last government,” he says, grinning, eyes dancing. “Now get in here.”
Michael grins back, and dives in.
~//~
