FIC: Chamber Games
Oct. 15th, 2011 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFandom: UK Politics
Title: Chamber Games
Ship(s): Peter Mandelson/George Osborne
Word Count: 719
Rating: R
Summary: George, you see, has forgotten that his partner is a magician. Set in the In Another Life universe. For my 50-fic 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.
Chamber Games
Front bench, Yvette, she told herself. Pay attention to the front bench. Cameron was flanked by Clegg and Osborne, as always – the three musketeers. Clegg was stiff and indrawn, as physically distant from Cameron as it was possible to be while sitting next to him, while Osborne had no such disdain of physical proximity. Indeed, Osborne seemed to have no sense of personal dignity, either, judging by the faces he was making. She’d thought her world’s Osborne had had an expressive face, but this one put him to shame. - from In Another Life
~//~
George sucks in a breath, as Peter works the cold silicone into his arse.
“Don’t be a baby,” Peter says, the reprimand belied by the kiss he presses to George’s spine. “You can take it for me. Relax.”
George tries, he really does. He feels the plug edging up past his prostate, causing his spent cock to make a feeble attempt at life. He feels it filling him, filling up the emptiness left after Peter pulled out. He feels – or imagines he feels – it pushing Peter’s come up into him, sealing it in and holding it inside.
He’s breathing hard by the time Peter finishes nudging it into place and lets go.
Peter drops down beside him on the bed, tilts his face up. “Beautiful,” he says, simply, and leans down to kiss him.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” George says a few minutes later, emerging from the kiss. The plug is secure – it doesn’t feel as if it’s going to fall out – but it moves with him, lighting up nerves and overloading his senses.
“Of course you can,” Peter says, and smiles that smile, the one that makes George want to do anything he asks. “You don’t have questions today. Just go into the Chamber and sit next to Cameron, with my plug and my come inside you.”
“Nnngh,” George says, or tries to say.
“It’s a quiet, normal day,” Peter continues, warming to his topic. “Nothing’s going to happen. Just sit there and watch Cameron try not to embarrass himself, and I’ll be watching you on my cameras.” He nips at George’s jaw, lightly, careful not to leave a mark for the cameras to see. “And you’ll know I’m watching.”
~//~
It turns out, of course, to be anything but a quiet, normal day.
But even before Peter Bone turns out to be an evil wizard intent on overthrowing Parliament and seizing control of the country – and really, Bone, what an excellent way to play into stereotypes about Tories, George thinks – George’s own Peter has twisted the terms of the bargain.
George, you see, has forgotten that his partner is a magician.
He realises the depth of his mistake when the Speaker calls the House to Order, and the plug in his arse begins to warm and tingle.
Shit buggety fuck shit, he thinks, and tries not to squirm.
He doesn’t know where Peter’s cameras are – perhaps they hover in the air like little magical Tinkerbells – but he glowers in all directions, just to communicate the extent of his Disapproval. (Cooper, across the despatch box, looks unnerved.)
The plug twists.
George manages not to yelp, but only just. He is slowly awakening to the full horror of the situation. If Peter wants, he could probably turn the plug into a dildo and fuck George right there on the front bench. He could probably turn it into a vibrator, and hone it in on George’s prostate until George comes in his pants, right there in front of everyone. (And what would the Speaker say to that?) Peter is not a particularly moral person.
Please, Peter, he begs shamelessly, even though he knows that Peter can’t hear him.
As if by magic, the plug settles down, with a last lingering caress.
George spends the rest of PMQs inclined to startle at the least sound, eyes whipping around the Chamber like a fox at bay.
If Peter hadn’t defeated an evil wizard’s apprentice - untrained, in his shirt sleeves - it might have gone very badly for him indeed, once George bolted out of the Chamber at the end of PMQs and to the nearest men’s loo, where he extracted the plug with shaking hands and shaking legs.
But he does.
And so George kisses him, instead.
~//~
Title: Chamber Games
Ship(s): Peter Mandelson/George Osborne
Word Count: 719
Rating: R
Summary: George, you see, has forgotten that his partner is a magician. Set in the In Another Life universe. For my 50-fic 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.
Chamber Games
Front bench, Yvette, she told herself. Pay attention to the front bench. Cameron was flanked by Clegg and Osborne, as always – the three musketeers. Clegg was stiff and indrawn, as physically distant from Cameron as it was possible to be while sitting next to him, while Osborne had no such disdain of physical proximity. Indeed, Osborne seemed to have no sense of personal dignity, either, judging by the faces he was making. She’d thought her world’s Osborne had had an expressive face, but this one put him to shame. - from In Another Life
~//~
George sucks in a breath, as Peter works the cold silicone into his arse.
“Don’t be a baby,” Peter says, the reprimand belied by the kiss he presses to George’s spine. “You can take it for me. Relax.”
George tries, he really does. He feels the plug edging up past his prostate, causing his spent cock to make a feeble attempt at life. He feels it filling him, filling up the emptiness left after Peter pulled out. He feels – or imagines he feels – it pushing Peter’s come up into him, sealing it in and holding it inside.
He’s breathing hard by the time Peter finishes nudging it into place and lets go.
Peter drops down beside him on the bed, tilts his face up. “Beautiful,” he says, simply, and leans down to kiss him.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” George says a few minutes later, emerging from the kiss. The plug is secure – it doesn’t feel as if it’s going to fall out – but it moves with him, lighting up nerves and overloading his senses.
“Of course you can,” Peter says, and smiles that smile, the one that makes George want to do anything he asks. “You don’t have questions today. Just go into the Chamber and sit next to Cameron, with my plug and my come inside you.”
“Nnngh,” George says, or tries to say.
“It’s a quiet, normal day,” Peter continues, warming to his topic. “Nothing’s going to happen. Just sit there and watch Cameron try not to embarrass himself, and I’ll be watching you on my cameras.” He nips at George’s jaw, lightly, careful not to leave a mark for the cameras to see. “And you’ll know I’m watching.”
~//~
It turns out, of course, to be anything but a quiet, normal day.
But even before Peter Bone turns out to be an evil wizard intent on overthrowing Parliament and seizing control of the country – and really, Bone, what an excellent way to play into stereotypes about Tories, George thinks – George’s own Peter has twisted the terms of the bargain.
George, you see, has forgotten that his partner is a magician.
He realises the depth of his mistake when the Speaker calls the House to Order, and the plug in his arse begins to warm and tingle.
Shit buggety fuck shit, he thinks, and tries not to squirm.
He doesn’t know where Peter’s cameras are – perhaps they hover in the air like little magical Tinkerbells – but he glowers in all directions, just to communicate the extent of his Disapproval. (Cooper, across the despatch box, looks unnerved.)
The plug twists.
George manages not to yelp, but only just. He is slowly awakening to the full horror of the situation. If Peter wants, he could probably turn the plug into a dildo and fuck George right there on the front bench. He could probably turn it into a vibrator, and hone it in on George’s prostate until George comes in his pants, right there in front of everyone. (And what would the Speaker say to that?) Peter is not a particularly moral person.
Please, Peter, he begs shamelessly, even though he knows that Peter can’t hear him.
As if by magic, the plug settles down, with a last lingering caress.
George spends the rest of PMQs inclined to startle at the least sound, eyes whipping around the Chamber like a fox at bay.
If Peter hadn’t defeated an evil wizard’s apprentice - untrained, in his shirt sleeves - it might have gone very badly for him indeed, once George bolted out of the Chamber at the end of PMQs and to the nearest men’s loo, where he extracted the plug with shaking hands and shaking legs.
But he does.
And so George kisses him, instead.
~//~
