by Clancy Nacht
Lance wasn’t sure he could handle a fight with Elliot right now, knowing he’d have to capitulate.
When Elliot finally let up, Lance gave him a weary smile. “An emergency came up in Austin. I didn’t think I’d be long.”
“You took all of your stuff.”
“In case I was long enough that the primary was over. I didn’t want to leave things behind. I figured at worst I’d have to meet you in Nevada.”
Elliot frowned but squeezed Lance tight. “Call me next time. You were just mugged, and I was so worried something really terrible happened.”
Right. Lance averted his gaze. Maybe he wasn’t being entirely fair with Elliot. He hadn’t been honest about the mugging, and it probably did seem very scary from Elliot’s perspective.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking beyond what I needed to get done.”
Maybe Elliot wouldn’t ask for details. Lance could offer a variety of paper thin excuses, but he was so exhausted it was more tempting to tell Elliot the truth: that the election was being swung in his favor by Lance’s mobster father.
As much as Lance and Elliot had fucked, he didn’t really know him. Would Elliot think of that as a bad thing? If Elliot didn’t, Lance wasn’t sure he could respect him enough to go on. Maybe it was better to say nothing.
As Lance looked at Elliot, he saw how red his eyes were and he realized that the man must have been crying. Lance touched the puffy skin. “Shit, I’m really sorry, Elliot.”
Elliot gave an awkward chuckle. “Don’t be. You know how long I’ve waited to feel anything like this? It’s terrible and wonderful at the same time. I was worried.”
He sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “I know that I’m pretty intense, and I can tell you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not comfortable with it.”
Taking Lance’s hands, he kissed the knuckles. “But Lance, I was really worried. It’s one thing if you’ve had enough and want to leave. I desperately want you to stay, but I don’t want this to be a weird one-sided affair.”
If you only knew.
“It’s not, Elliot.” Not even Lance believed his delivery, but it wasn’t altogether untrue. He had feelings for Elliot, but now they were complicated and sabotaged by circumstance. “I’m not good at relationships.”
Elliot nodded. “This is a pretty strange relationship. There are a lot of demands on my time, and hell, I’m married. I get that. It’s not an easy situation. If you need a break occasionally, I understand. I just need to know that’s what you’re doing. I can’t express how worried for you I was after that mugging. The thought of anything bad happening to you... I even asked someone to watch you. Couldn’t find him either. It was so scary, Lance.”
Lance closed his eyes, utterly ashamed for the assumptions he’d made. It had been supremely self-absorbed, taking Gideon with him. Elliot had tried to reach his guy, and his guy hadn’t been in a position to answer his phone.
In fact, they’d been in several positions not to answer phones.
“You’re right. I’ll let you know when I take off from now on. I had to go on business, I promise you. I wasn’t trying to get away from you.”
Elliot leaned in to press their lips together. It was a soft, sensual kiss, just the light brush of lips.
Though Lance leaned back to allow Elliot on top of him, he didn’t follow.
“Susan will be here soon. With the kids.”
With the kids. Lance scanned the room for a means of escape. He’d promised Susan that he wouldn’t get friendly with them. “I should go.”
And he would have if Elliot hadn’t grabbed his hands. “No. I want you to meet them. I think you’ll love them. Ricky is eight, and Natalie is only four.”
Lance nodded but all he could think about was the promise he’d made Susan. She didn’t ask much from him and though they had a hot and cold friendship, he was going to honor that to the best of his ability.
However, his intentions were moot as he heard the door lock beep.
Like something out of a greeting card commercial, Elliot and Susan’s two perfect children dashed into the room ahead of their mother.
From the hall, Susan called, “I don’t think I messed that up too much, honey, but the kids really wanted to see you.”
After Susan turned and saw Lance on the couch, her lips pressed into a line as she glared. Lance stared down at the patterned floor while the kids climbed all over their dad and explained to him all they’d seen. “One lady, she called you a RINO. I laughed at her and told her you weren’t a rhino, you were my dad!”
At that ice breaker Susan allowed herself a tight smile. “They stole the show, Elliot, but it didn’t matter. The people are here to see you, and you weren’t there.”
Elliot stood after giving each child a squeeze. “Lance is back; we’re on track. I’ll give my speech in,” he checked his watch. “Two hours. The numbers look good, Sus. Don’t worry. I’m sure they were thrilled to see you. All of us are.”
While they hugged, Lance sat on the edge of the couch trying to shrink enough that maybe no one would notice he was still there.
However, Natalie noticed him. She ambled over and touched his face with a clammy little hand that smelled of cookies and crayons. “Who are you?”
Lance smiled, trying to be kind. He couldn’t exactly flee in terror.
She climbed up his leg with surprising grace and smiled up at him. “You’re so pretty. You work for daddy?”
“I do.” Lance stayed very still, wishing he could vanish into the couch. He wasn’t sure what to do short of pushing the girl off and running, which seemed like a weird thing to do.
“What are you doing?” Susan glared at Lance, then crossed the room to grab Natalie from his lap. “No. Oh no, no, no.”
She shook her head as she clung to Natalie. “Not the children. Elliot, the children are mine.”
Lance held up his hand as he looked between them. “I’m sorry, she just—”
Elliot walked to him, his hands out to touch Lance and de-escalate the situation. “Susan’s just tired.”
“I’m not tired. It’s our deal, El. The kids are mine. I will have someone love me better than him.” She grabbed her son by the arm. “Come on, we need to get dressed.”
Lance stood, not sure what else he should do. “I should go.”
Elliot gave him a weak smile. “Maybe it would be a good time for you to get your stuff situated downstairs. Take a shower and then join me in the ballroom for what I hope is going to be a victory speech.”
Lance smiled pleasantly and then let himself out.
Once again he was reminded of just how fucked up this situation was. He had no great longing to be around children, but he was worried about how well Susan was dealing with everything.
Being responsible for the kids would have to be very stressful in this situation with the press alone, but doing it while their daddy was fucking some guy seemed beyond the pale.
Hopefully the kids were young enough that they didn’t notice.
Lance went to his room and unpacked. This time the room was slightly bigger. He hoped he had time to put together a final package for his choices for Vice President to send to Elliot before the evening party-slash-meeting of volunteers and contributors. Knowing the outcome of the primary results left Lance feeling empty instead of excited and reminded him of the bargain he’d made.
Bargain. As if there were any negotiations.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Lance’s heart skipped a beat wondering if it was Gideon. But no, it couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. If there was anyone in the mess who could get away, it should be Gideon. He didn’t deserve to be dragged into the middle of everything, though selfishly Lance wished he’d stay close.
What good would it do for Gideon to stay, though? He’d just have to watch Lance with Elliot. It was better that they’d said goodbye, bittersweet as it had been. The sex had been scary but thrilling. There were such strange power dynamics between
them, such understanding, and yet, because of the sins of their fathers, an immovable blockade to real trust. Just as Schrader could use Gideon as leverage with Lance, Gideon could use Lance against Schrader.
Lance went to the door and peered out to see Jeff.
Letting out a long sigh, Lance mentally prepared himself to deal with the young man. Yet another person in the middle of a storm he couldn’t fathom. Lance opened the door.
Jeff eyed Lance. “So you’re back.”
“This campaign isn’t my only client.” Lance stepped from the door to allow Jeff in.
“You could’ve told someone.” Jeff walked in, all youthful hostility and righteous indignation. “Mr. Swardson was beside himself.”
“He’s been tended to. Do you need tending to?” Lance smirked as he shut the door.
“What? No. What does that mean?” Jeff spun around far too quickly; his blush was furious and telling.
Lance scratched his chin. There was a little stubble; he hadn’t done a thorough job shaving before he took off. He raised a brow as he took a seat. This suite had a bigger table than the last, for all the good it would do him overnight. He pulled his laptop from its bag and hooked it up. “You just come here to lecture me, or did you need something?”
Jeff sat on the bed, then seemed to think better of it and moved to one of the plush chairs by the window. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for the other day. My unscheduled nap.”
Lance returned his attention to his laptop. He wasn’t sure he could look Jeff in the eye and continue to lie about that, even if it was in everyone’s best interest. “No need. Already forgotten.”
“It was really unprofessional. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Didn’t seem to do much damage to the campaign. But since you mention it, did you have time to look over what I sent you?” Having hopefully diverted the conversation, Lance smiled at Jeff.
“Um.” Jeff shifted nervously. “Things were really out of hand while you were away…”
“Right.” Lance opened his computer and opened the files, then checked the time. “We could discuss it now, but if you haven’t even looked at the files, there’s not much point.”
“I’m so sorry.” Jeff stood and bit his lip, scanning the room as if he could absorb the information spontaneously. “Do you want to talk through your thoughts?”
“No.” Lance opened his email and fished out the one he’d originally sent to Jeff. Five names were on it, but now he wondered if everyone on the list would be doomed by this scandal if it broke. Or worse, if they’d be just as trapped as Lance was, complicit in stealing the election.
Four names needed to go to oppo research: Felicia Brooks—a Baptist Governor from Georgia; Renetta Fox—an Episcopalian California state senator; Jordan Diaz— a Catholic governor of Texas; and Oswald Norton—an Evangelical Lt. Governor from Oklahoma. The last one he liked the least, as not only was Norton a white man but also from a state the party would likely carry without effort. Not to mention, he was radically Evangelical.
No one should be speaking tongues in the White House.
“Any of them white?” Jeff smiled and leaned forward, apparently trying to join in.
Lance needed to excise Jeff from the situation, speaking of people this could ruin.
“Yes.” He left it brusque, hoping Jeff would take the hint and leave. Felicia was black, as was Renetta. Jordan was Latino, but was in a state that wasn’t in contention.
Jeff laughed. “Any men?”
“Yes.” Lance copied and pasted his personal thoughts on each person, attaching it to their files. He sent the information on in the order of his preference.
It didn’t really matter. Elliot was destined to win.
“Any white men?” Jeff still seemed game, but there wasn’t time for this.
“Yes.” Lance sent the email to Corey and Elliot but pointedly left Jeff off the email chain.
“Wow. Thinking outside the box. Good job!” Jeff stood as Lance locked his laptop and then closed it. “Time to go?”
Lance nodded. He’d hoped to change from the suit he’d traveled in, but it probably didn’t matter. He wasn’t the main attraction; Elliot was. He checked his face in the mirror and wished he had time for a quick shave, but he didn’t want to show up late and upset Elliot again. After smoothing his hair down, Lance headed for the door and opened it. He let Jeff go out ahead of him and then followed.
Not even two steps outside the room, Lance saw Elliot heading down the hall toward them, flanked by guards. Elliot’s jaw tightened as his gaze landed on Jeff. Lance turned his back to Elliot to pull shut the door and double check it. The lock was automatic, but Lance felt compelled. As if Schrader couldn’t get a key.
“Gentlemen.” Elliot stood before them, so Lance turned to acknowledge Elliot’s smile. Then Elliot offered his hand regally for each to shake. “I just wanted to make sure you were on your way, Lance.”
“I am, thank you.” Lance gave him a strained smile. “I thought you’d be with your family.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Elliot’s expression hardened. “I bet.”
Lance sighed, looked at Jeff, and shook his head. “I sent you the picks for VP. We’ll talk about that later.”
Elliot nodded. “Good, good.” They received a tight smile, and then Elliot turned for the elevator. Lance and Jeff followed.
Awkward silence filled the ride to the lobby. The mirrored cabin reflected Elliot’s grimace to each passenger, but when the doors rolled open, he was all smiles greeting supporters and volunteers. He thanked each of them for their hard work and posed for selfies on his way to one of the hotel’s ballrooms.
Without much else to do, Lance headed to the cash bar and bought a glass of wine. As he drank, he lost himself in conversations with Elliot’s supporters, mostly about their family, their lives, little things that were important to them. It was nice. Not all of humanity was locked in a shadow war for the White House. That bore remembering.
Somehow during conversation, the crowd herded Lance imperceptibly back toward the door. That was where he found himself when Elliot took the stage. His speech was fluffy, mostly thanking donors and supporters, but then he threw some red meat to the base about guns and not backing down from terrorists. He delivered brilliance and sincerity. His cadence was on point, and the supporters ate it up.
If left to his own devices, maybe Elliot could pull it off. But the world would never know.
As the speech wound down and people returned to their conversations, someone tapped Lance’s shoulder. He turned, smiling and slightly dreamy from seeing Elliot nail his speech, only for those precious good vibes to ebb away at Gideon’s smirk.
“You were supposed to leave.” Lance clutched his wine glass for security as he scanned the room. Elliot was chatting intensely with the Mercers’ people and probably would be for a while. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” Gideon shifted closer and gazed at Lance, enough to make Lance glance around to check for onlookers.
“No.” Lance set his wineglass on a caterer’s empty tray as Lance swiftly exited the ballroom.
No. Lance couldn’t deal with this, not here. Lance was doing this for Schrader, but not in front of Gideon.
Breathless, chest tight, Lance stalked away down the hall, passing empty conference rooms. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to get out.
Behind him, Gideon gave chase, footsteps hard and fast only goading Lance to greater speed.
No. No. No. This wasn’t real. Lance couldn’t do this.
Just seeing Gideon had Lance’s heart in his throat. What made this deal tenable was the notion Gideon would be gone. Lance wouldn’t have to look at him, wouldn’t have to think of the perfect fit of their bodies, their backgrounds, or the way that Gideon held him. They couldn’t work as a couple—there was just no way—but if Gideon escaped, it would be worth this sacrifice.
At the end of the hall, Lance finally halted,
gripping the generic metal doorframe. The door was open. Gideon’s footsteps were near. Lance took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and walked inside.
It was empty but for a folding table. Neatly stacked chairs filled the corner. Ivory damask striped wallpaper and dark carpeting adorned with wildly patterned lilies surrounded him.
And Gideon stood behind him, breathing quietly. Every breath brushed Lance’s nape. Lance tilted his head to the side, and Gideon surged forward, grabbing Lance’s arms and kissing his throat as he guided Lance to the table. There Lance mustered willpower to make his stand, turning around to glare at Gideon.
“You can’t be here. This is your last chance to leave. Whatever you think is going on between us…” Lance swallowed hard. He couldn’t lie like this, not about something so important. But he had to. “It’s not. I’m going to be with Elliot, do what Schrader says. Be a good boy.”
Gideon seized Lance by his chin, squeezing his lips against his teeth. He held him like that for a moment, staring into Lance’s eyes, and then leaned in to kiss Lance deeply.
Lance didn’t want to resist. His mouth opened, and he took Gideon’s tongue, shivering at its cool touch, its taste of scotch on the rocks. Gideon rubbed his cock against Lance’s, pinning him against the table, and made a soft needy sound against Lance’s lips.
Lance’s resolve ebbed away. But this would be complicated, far too complicated.
It was all Lance wanted. Just this once. One more time.
Gideon opened their pants and freed their cocks. He stroked Lance’s as he gazed into his eyes, expression warped into that terrible smirk. It said, “I own you,” and Lance couldn’t argue.
Lance took Gideon’s cock in hand and toyed with it, watching Gideon’s expression change from blissful to almost pained. He felt so good in Lance’s hand. Solid, warm, so beautiful. The perfect size. It was all Lance could do not to drop to his knees, but that didn’t fit the game they were playing.
“Keep your shirt up so it doesn’t get on your clothes.” Gideon gave a sultry smile, then concentrated on finding what Lance liked. Gideon’s grip was immaculate from the ridge of his fingers to the tease of his thumb over Lance’s tip.