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“Geralt what happens if he wins?”
It was nearly three in the morning and Dandelion was still awake, staring at his phone screen with huge eyes. Geralt, who was actually trying to sleep, groaned and rubbed his face.
“Dandelion, we don’t live in the United States.”
“But-”
“Dandelion, we don’t even live on the same continent.” Sure it would probably affect the rest of the world, but Geralt had lived through a dozen dictators, two world wars, and multiple presidential assassinations.
Not to mention, his house was in the middle of nowhere and everyone, even the authorities, tended to give him a wide berth. Hell, the pizza delivery man had to be bribed to come to the house, there was no way the government of another country was going to bother them. He really couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, particularly not at three in the morning.
“But-“
“There is nothing you can do, so put away your phone and go to sleep.”
For a moment, it seemed Dandelion was going to do as he’d told him, the light from his phone winking out. Then, just as Geralt was starting to get comfortable, a quiet voice asked, “What if he doesn’t win?”
“Then he’ll throw a fit on twitter.”
“Do you think he’ll start a war?”
“He’s on another goddamn continent, I really don’t care.”
“It’s a global issue-”
“It’s three in the morning. Nothing is a global issue in my house at three in the morning.”
Dandelion whined and Geralt could hear him shifting around. With a sigh he rolled over and wrapped his arm around his lover, pulling him closer. The singer curled into him happily. For a moment, it seemed that he was going to be content to cuddle against the Witcher and - hopefully - go to sleep.
Then he asked, “Geralt, what’s the electoral college?”
The Witcher moaned and pushed a pillow over his face.