In The Eyes of Us People (Trump x Biden)

2

(Warning: this chapter contains Trump x Pence, is somewhat heated (they make out) — they do not do the nasty nasty, but, they talk about doing it. Read with caution.)

     Trump heard a sharp, high pitched 'DING' noise come out of his phone. He grumbled incoherently, wiped his eyes, sat up, grabbed the mobile, and checked it to see what the notification was.

Pencey-Poo ;3
Heyyy baby

Trump inhaled deeply. Right, him and Pence had that whole thing going on. He thought for a moment on what he should reply with (or if he should even reply at all for that matter), and then a strangely harsh wave of realization hit him.

"Maybe this can help me get my mind off of him..." Trump muttered to himself. He opened up his chat with Pence and started typing up a reply.

Trumpykins <3
Hayyyyyy hotsttuf ;)

Pencey-Poo ;3
What r u doing

Trumpykins <3
sexing u stupid
*teximg
*textng
*TEXTING
lolololololol

Pencey-Poo ;3
I mean
we could
u know

Trumpykins <3
wut

Pencey-Poo ;3
We could be sexing õwõ

Trumpykins <3
oh
yea sre come ovwr

Pencey-Poo
bet im omw

    Trump turned his phone off, set it aside, and quickly hopped up to go and unlock his door so that Pence could just walk in on him. Once that was done he plopped back onto the bed and just lied there for a while. Every now and then he would squiggle and wiggle around, adjusting his position to try and make himself look as sexy as possible for the moment that Pence walks in the room.

Suddenly, the image of Biden popped back up into his head. His eyes, his smile, his receding hairline, his shoulders, his buttocks... God, Trump had it so bad for him. Once Trump realized he was daydreaming about Biden again he internally cursed at himself.

    "I'm sure that this will work... it has to..." he whispered to himself and sighed heavily.

    Moments later he heard a knock at his door, and at the sound of that he flinched and his body flooded with a feeling of panic, but he quickly calmed down as he realized it was just Pence.

     The door swung open and, just as expected, there he was, his Pencey-Poo, wearing a loose t-shirt, shorts, and... ehm, well, sandals... because, God, the both of them knew that he wouldn't be wearing anything for very long (winky face winky face winky face), so, there really was no point in him making an effort to dress nicely.

    Just moments after Pence had opened the door he shut and locked it, and, hardly anytime at all after that Pence had spotted Trump lying sexily on his bed and jumped over, pinning him down against the bed and— oh, oh God, what the Hell?— oh, Jesus Christ, they were making out like it was the end of the freaking world. Oh boy. Okay. That's... no, no. No. I need to look away. I feel like I'm intruding on a very private moment here. Can I leave? I need to leave. This is too much, Jesus. This is disgusting. But- oh boy, nope, I'm the narrator. I have to carry on. I hate this. I hate this so damn much. Anyways, anyways, haha, ehm...