Work Text:
Keith Wolahan stumbled into the apartment, grime caking his liberal loafers.
“Honey! I’m home!”
Peter Dutton beamed, the sun glinting off of his pearly whites from the kitchen.
“Hard day today, sweetheart?” Dutton mumbled, a sickly drawl embedded in his inflection.
Wolahan sighed, dragging a hand down his sweaty left-winged face.
“Those fucking labors…slippin’ out of my fingers like a kangaroo.”
“...don’t fret, baby boy. We can cuddle on the couch whilst you complete your liberal labours, heh…see what I did there?” Dutton smirked, chin rested in the junction of his index and thumb.
A beat, before Wolahan collapsed into Dutton’s baby-soft beefy liberal arms. Mutual understanding occurred, a systematic ritual between the liberal pair, a pattern ingrained in their liberal lifestyles.
Wolahan sobbed into Dutton’s non-existent collarbone, wetting his starchy off-white polo shirt.
“I- I can’t handle it…the pressure, the greens- oh, the greens. How they make me green, not grin! Take the pain away, pumpkin…”
Dutton exhaled softly, a painting of sorrow and pity.
“Life ain’t all cookies and cream, li’l fella. It takes time and effort to…inosculate with your understanding of the world…to truly come to terms with your destiny. I never knew what I wanted…” Dutton trailed off.
Wolohan sniffed, “Until when?”
“...until I met you.”
fin.