The characters are fictional and any resemblance to real life people is purely coincidental. >:)
Pat sunk into his office couch to replay what had occurred during his meeting with Mike. The sullen face of John Adams, eyes slanted down and bulbous nose upturned, judged him from the portrait above his desk. The intoxicating mix of Mike's body odor mixed with a cool water aftershave still lingered in Pat's nose. The taste of corn and melon lingered in his mouth. He felt dirty and gleeful at the same time. The explosion of excitement in Pat's gut from reliving the encounter was strong enough to get him half hard.
Pat stood in Mike's office, leaning over him at his computer, helping him figure out how to set up his new personal email. The man had an incredible knack for remembering faces and facts, but he could not work a computer to save his life.
"I'm a simple mid-western guy, just trying to protect our country's values," Mike said with a hint of sarcasm.
Pat let out a guffaw, and Mike chuckled at the awkward outburst. Pat placed his hand on Mike's arm to gently give him a squeeze of jest. Mike stiffened in his chair below him, which made his bicep bulge through his shirt. Pat let his hand linger, so that his fingers outlined the curvature of his muscle. What a manly body sat below him, especially compared to his own, he thought. An Adonis.
Pat started down at Mike's perfectly coiffed silver helmet. The helmet of a hero. Not a hair was out of place. He was clean and his grooming was impeccable. Pat knew his own head was too large, in comparison to his body, particularly because his dainty shoulders slunk and gave him a woman's silhouette. His own hair had thinned around his forehead, and he was forever trying different parts to give the illusion he wasn't balding. His children never failed to point out how little hair he had remained. But not this beautiful specimen in front of him. He embodied the all-American, God-fearing man. His hand remained on Mike's arm, and he could feel Mike's heartbeat thumping from his armpit. Mike sat frozen and quiet during the shared moment that felt like an infinity.
The two had become closer in the last few weeks preparing for the inevitable departure of their chief. Mike had been busy on his task force before that, but now he was situated in his West Wing office almost every day. Pat was too nervous to approach the VP in his office at first, but after he learned that Mike drank tea and not coffee, he started to bring a brewed pot and tea set on a tray every morning to share with the humble hero in his office. Their daily chats became the most exciting part of Pat's day. They talked about their families. They talked about their faith. They talked about horses -- they both had ridden when they were younger. They talked about where they shopped, and Mike had helped pick out an ankle-length, wool coat for the winter months. Mike had convinced Pat that he could pull off a long coat -- and indeed a did. Nothing was too small or inane to share with one another.
While Pat's hand remained on Mike's arm, both of their breaths quickened. Pat felt as if he was frozen in time. Why was he holding Mike's arm, and why didn't Mike pull away? A dead silence hung in the air and the tension grew. Mike lifted his other arm, and Pat assumed he was about to remove his hand, but instead he placed his large hand over Pat's and comforted it like a weighted blanket. It was warm and dewy. The heat of their touching skin and image of their entwined hands sent shivers down his body and into his groin, and he felt himself swell in anticipation of what might come next.
This was Pat's chance - he had to seize the day. He firmly pushed against Mike's arm to swivel him around to face Pat. Mike looked up at Pat with doe eyes. The sunlight caught his brown eyes and golden highlights flickered as he batted his lashes. His mouth had turned into a grin. His lips parted as if to whisper something, but no sound came out. Pat stared down at him, and Mike did not turn away. Before any words could be spoken to ruin the magical encounter, Pat lowered to a kneeling pose and placed his hands firmly on Mike's knees. From his new perspective, Pat could tell that Mike's already impressive bulge had grown in size.