FIC: Liberal Democratia is a Foreign Country

[zaubra]

Fandom: UK Politics
Title: Liberal Democratia is a Foreign Country; or, Michael Gove and the Baker's Dozen
Ship(s): Michael Gove/Sarah Teather, Michael Gove/Michael Moore, Michael Gove/Vince Cable, Michael Gove/James Lundie/David Laws, James Lundie/David Laws, Michael Gove/Lynne Featherstone, Michael Gove/Danny Alexander, Michael Gove/Simon Hughes, Michael Gove/Jeremy Browne, Michael Gove/Duncan Hames/Jo Swinson, Duncan Hames/Jo Swinson, Michael Gove/Chris Huhne, Michael Gove/Tim Farron, David Cameron/Nick Clegg, Michael Gove/David Cameron, Michael Gove/Sarah Vine
Word Count: 1,864
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Michael Gove is a coalition man. 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.



Liberal Democratia is a Foreign Country
or, Michael Gove and the Baker’s Dozen

“"Liberal Democratia is a foreign country. I am getting to understand the language Liberal Democrats speak and their eating habits and their culture and their history and folk heroes.” ~ Michael Gove, 30 September 2011

“…it is not just a transactional and business-like relationship…It is not quite that you finish each other's sentences, but you can both be enthusiastic about working towards a particular goal. It is on the whole a healthy and productive relationship." ~ Michael Gove, 30 September 2011

one

Michael has many ways of training himself to be a better parliamentarian, a parliamentarian who will make Bercow beam instead of glower. He’s begun developing a portfolio of sarcastic retorts; he’s read all of his own reports; he’s even started to agitate behind the scenes to get Andy Burnham moved to Health (because Everton is simply too tempting of a target).

His best weapon, however, is his right-hand woman, all 4 feet and 10 inches of her.

“Again,” Sarah says. “Without quite as much snark this time.”

Michael wriggles a little, trying to hide his grin.

Sarah brings the tawse down. “Again,” she says, her voice friendly but stern.

Michael surreptitiously adjusts his hips against the hard edges of the despatch box, and tries again.

Of all the ways of training himself, this is the most effective.

He sends her champagne and flowers to celebrate her speech at the Liberal Democrat conference.

Two weeks later, he faces the House – and his new Shadow, Stephen Twigg (backstage agitation rewarded) – a whole new man.

“As ever, I am grateful for the constructive tone taken by the hon. Gentleman,” Michael says, to a particularly abusive opponent. “I have long admired his bipartisanship.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sarah’s smile.

~//~

Sarah, of course, is not the first Liberal Democrat to fall into line with Michael’s plan. Like all of his plans, it is devilishly cunning. Quite simply, when David decided to form a coalition with the Liberal Democrats, Michael decided to do all that was in his power to make that coalition work.

And quite a lot is in his power.

After all, these are the Liberals.

two

Michael Moore is pretty, and Scottish, and solid under Michael’s hands.

Michael nips along his well-defined jaw, and smirks at the gasp that brings.

The hands on his arse grip more tightly, and Michael turns his mouth into the kiss.

three

Vince Cable is numbers, numbers, business and numbers, but he’s feeling neglected by George, and a Tory taking interest in him is enough to get Michael an in.

“I saw you on Strictly,” Michael says, perched on a hard BIS chair, after a long discussion on how Education can coordinate with BIS to develop innovation and skills in the nation’s youth. “I was impressed – I have the proverbial two left feet.”

Twenty minutes later, he’s in Vince’s arms – trying helplessly to follow Vince’s lead, the both of them laughing at his hopelessness – stumbling “accidentally” into his partner, two breaths catching.

It progresses from there.

four

He telephones to express his regrets in person.

“We saw your comments,” James says, slowly. “Did you really say that you were ‘incredibly sad’ that David had to resign?”

“I am incredibly sad,” Michael says. “David was an important asset to the government. I’ve always admired him.”

James makes a sceptical noise.

Michael lets a little indignation into his tone. “When we were planning the coalition, I offered to let David have Education! I offered to let him have my own Cabinet post. If that doesn’t tell you something about how much I esteem your partner, I don’t know what would.”

Later – much later – as James slides into him, long hard slide, achingly warm and tight, and David gasps at the feeling of his partner’s cock alongside his own, and Michael keens, full and high and satisfied – Michael thinks that that had been exactly the right thing to say.

five

Michael would be more worried about poaching on Theresa’s territory – she scares him – but Theresa and Lynne aren’t getting along at the moment, so he thinks he’s safe.

“She just won’t listen,” Lynne says, and the hand in his hair tugs with irritation.

Michael lifts his head from its current occupation. “A word of advice?”

“Yes?” Lynne says, narrowing her eyes.

Michael grins, tasting the wetness on his lips. “You don’t have to convince Theresa on same-sex marriage.”

“I don’t?” Lynne says.

Michael presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “David’s already convinced, and he’ll go over her head.”

Lynne’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you sure?”

“Completely,” Michael says. He’s seen the speech. “So save your fight for the Human Rights Act.”

Lynne smiles at him, her eyes already going a bit distant at the prospect.

He ducks his head again, determined to recall her to the present.

six

Danny is the biggest person he’s ever had in his bed. The long length of him makes Michael’s mouth water, and he clambers over it, determined to explore every inch.

Danny’s laughing, pulling him down, warm hands coming up over his shoulderblades. He says something in Michael’s ear, incoherent. When Michael closes his eyes, the Scottish burr slides behind them, conjuring almost-forgotten memories of youthful summer kisses, Angus and Aberdeen and an hour until his parents return.

They have their differences, and the relationship between the Treasury and the rest of the departments is a strained one in any government, but here in his bed they are two men taking their pleasure in each other, and that is all.

Michael kisses him, and lets a little Aberdeen back into his own voice.

seven

Michael really wants to blow Simon in The Yellow Taxi, but Simon points out that they’d be risking discovery. It’s not like The Yellow Taxi is inconspicuous.

This is why it’s good to have contacts. Michael sneaks into David and James’s in the afternoon, and Simon arrives for dinner. To the media, it’s one Liberal Democrat visiting another; to the principals, it’s David and James watching Newsnight while Simon and Michael slip away.

If the Taxi rocks, David and James know not to come a-knocking.

eight

Jeremy is a maudlin drunk. In one pub evening, Michael hears the entire story of Jeremy’s hopeless crush on Hague, including just how fit Hague is and how much Jeremy wants to make his voice break.

Michael keeps an eye out for reporters, and makes appropriate noises at appropriate times. While he doesn’t particularly fancy Hague himself, he knows the feeling of wanting someone you can’t have, and the value of a shoulder to cry on.

At the end, Jeremy takes a sudden slide into complete incoherence, to the point where Michael can’t even get his address out of him. So he hauls him home and puts him to bed in the guest room; Sarah rolls her eyes when he slips into bed and tells her of their houseguest, but he knows she doesn’t really mind.

The next day, after Jeremy has recovered from his astonishing hangover, Michael does some more consoling. Because he isn’t Hague, but he’s willing to wager that he gives a better blowjob.

And he’s completely shameless about role-playing.

nine and ten

The thing that Michael has to remember is that while they’re newlyweds, they’re still Liberals.

So having Duncan’s cock in his arse and Jo’s quim under his tongue is perhaps not as unlikely as it might have first appeared.

He grins.

eleven

Michael knows better than to make any assumptions about a man’s prowess in bed from the size of his dick. So he gives Chris Huhne a chance – and he’s glad he did.

Chris may not be blessed down under, but he’s kept a wife and a mistress, and Michael can see why. He’s wickedly funny and devastatingly good with his tongue, and he teases Michael until Michael begs.

Then he brings out the e-stim, and Michael can’t make the obvious joke about electricity and the Minister for Energy and Climate Change, because he’s thrashing and moaning, and perfectly, gloriously, happy.

twelve

Michael leaves Tim until relatively late in the Liberal Democrat project, as he’s calling it to himself. He’s not in the government, after all, and he has a prickly relationship with his Tory bedfellows, evidenced by his tendency to abuse them in public and in the press.

But while Tim may want the coalition to end in divorce, he’s surprisingly amenable to a liaison.

Michael blows him in a pub bathroom after a karaoke night, both of them laughing and breathless, the strange attractive lines of Tim’s face relaxing in the bad light. Michael doesn’t normally take this much of a risk, but tonight he just feels like it, reckless and free.

Tim throws his head back and moans, Liberal in his lack of inhibition, and Michael relaxes his jaw and swallows him down.

After all, no one would ever believe the story anyway. Tim hates Tories.

and thirteen

Nick Clegg turns him down.

Turns him down.

Michael’s surprised, and a bit hurt, and still nursing his grievances later that afternoon when David calls and asks him to come over to Number 10.

When David asks him bluntly what the hell he thought he was doing, Michael gapes for a moment, completely lost for words. (Which is worrying, because it’s not something he’s used to experiencing.)

He finally finds his voice. “He told you?”

David blinks. “Yes, he told me.”

“And we’re talking about Nick?” Michael asks, just to be sure.

David’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who else would we be talking about?”

Michael shifts. “None of your business.”

“I’m Prime Minister,” David says. “That makes it my business.”

Diversion time. “Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to be mean, David.”

“What?” David’s face is a picture. “I’m not jealous!”

“You’ve had more than a year,” Michael says, warming to his subject. “If you don’t want him, you can’t complain if I make a move.”

“Nick? You think I want Nick?”

Michael puts a finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

“I don’t want Nick!”

“Your lips say one thing, but the way you look at him says another,” Michael observes.

David splutters.

“Anyway, you don’t have to worry about the competition,” Michael says, sitting on the desk next to him. “Nick’s made it clear that he doesn’t fancy me.”

“I don’t…” David starts.

“I wonder,” Michael continues, over him, “if that’s because he fancies someone else?”

David falls silent.

Michael feels the edges of a smile beginning. David has been successfully distracted from the bollocking he meant to issue, the long-running sexual tension between Prime Minister and Deputy may finally be resolved, and if he’s lucky he’ll get an invitation to a threesome in a month or so. The coalition is humming along more strongly than it had before – Michael gets secret smiles directed at him in corridors and stolen moments in cupboards – and the prospect that he may eventually get to shag the man he’s always wanted is looking better all the time.

In the meantime, there are still forty-four Liberal Democrat MPs left.

Never let it be said that Michael Gove doesn’t love his country.

(And himself.)

~//~