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celebration, of a sort

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“you know,” sam says, slipping into his bush voice with ease. “there’s a bit of a ritual to be done when a new president and his vp win the election.”

“oh, really?” christian says, following along in his own american accent. he smirks. “and what is that?”

“president fucks his vp,” sam says. “it’s a celebration sort of thing.”

“and you knew this going in?”

“mmhmm.”

“that why you picked me?”

sam shrugs, nonchalant. “maybe, maybe not.”

“alright,” christian says. “so, should i make myself comfortable on the bed? get myself all ready for ya?”

“actually,” sam says, leaning forward in his seat. His gaze flicks downward, just for a moment. christian’s eyebrows go up. “i was thinkin’ we could switch things up a little.”

oh,” christian says. “the most powerful man on the plant wants to be under me . boy, does that feel rewarding.”

sam laughs. “so, is that a yes?”

christian smiles. “get on the bed.”

 

the weight of christian on top of him should be uncomfortable but sam doesn’t mind. in fact, he just about loves the feel of being pinned down by christian’s weight. he silently thanks whatever beings above got christian to choose to go method again with his whole weight-gaining thing for this film, because the feel of his gut against sam’s own is glorious. even if he weren’t already holding him down by the wrists, sam feels as though he’s completely at christian’s mercy.

yes,” sam breathes out as christian hits just the right spot. he doesn’t even know if he’s in character anymore, if either of them are still in character, so lost in the pleasure of it all that he’s barely even thinking about it. christian ducks his head to suck at a spot on his neck, and sam groans. it’s like christian knows exactly what he likes. he must be some sort of magical mind reader or something.

“i-i’m close,” sam says a little while later. he can almost feel christian grin against his skin, wondering if that’s really him or if cheney’s slipping out again. not that it matters.

sam’s short nails dig into the soft skin of christian’s back as he feels himself reaching his peak. he opens his mouth to cry out christian’s name when, in the haze of orgasm, he finds his lips suddenly occupied.

he starts to come down from the high of it all long after christian’s finished too, tying up the condom and tossing it in the wastebasket before collapsing onto the bed next to sam.

“you wanna talk about it?” sam asks, panting, just having enough sense to remember what happened.

“talk about what?” christian asks, back in his british tongue.

“you kissed me,” sam says simply. there’s no anger in his voice, even if they had established a rule against it beforehand. he just states it as a fact. even so, christian is silent for a few moments.

“sorry,” he says. “i guess i got caught up in the moment.”

“don’t be,” sam says. “that was, like, the best damn orgasm i’ve had in a long time.”

christian can’t help but smile.

“in fact,” sam says, rolling into his side. “i think it was so good that i barely even remember that kiss. think we can try that again?” christian turns his head, smiling.

“anything for you, mr. president,” he says. sam grins and christian kisses him again.