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Mitt had heard that the White House was in chaos as the new administration started to move in, but even the various news reports that had been floating about failed to capture just how insane everything was. Realistically speaking, he was probably the only run of the mill Republican who had joined the cabinet, leaving him to work with a team of folks who edged on the kind of extremism that made his stomach churn a little.
This wasn’t the way he had hoped to end up with a full time job at the White House. Not initially, that’s for sure, but even with his two presidential runs, he ended up missing the end of the rainbow. But still, it left him with time to spend with his family. To take the stress off of them. And then, even beyond that, it gave him time to think about the past few years.
The screaming crowds. The tears in the eyes of supporters who honestly had so much belief in him. And then, in the midst of all of that, he would turn to Paul Ryan, his vice presidential pick. And the craziest thing, Paul would always look back at him with stars in his eyes. It was as if Paul wanted to stay by his side forever, and that he found something to support and fight for, and it had changed everything. That’s how Mitt felt from the first time that they had met: everything had changed. And it was there, in the heat of those campaign events, that Mitt would take Paul’s hand in his, and raise their hands up into the air, grinning until his face hurt. Paul would turn his head to look at him, smiling wide, and Mitt would try and keep his eyes on the crowd, but sometimes he would look at Paul and just like that the world would slow down. It gave him confidence like never before.
Of course, in the end, those days didn’t last. As the campaign tired on, things got that much more serious as his lead started to wan. The days ticked on full of stress and endless media scrutiny which would be softly amended by Paul resting a reassuring hand on Mitt’s shoulder. The night that stuck with Mitt the most, however, was election night.
They had watched the election results come in as a team, the mood gradually dissipating into pure defeat as the night went on. The polls had been leaning to this result for weeks, but to see it unravel in front of their eyes really packed a punch. As the results poured in he could feel Ryan’s eyes on him. They were worried, but there was nothing to be done.
Obama’s electors had risen to a point that left no hope for them, and there was a whole group of people waiting anxiously. They all had hoped he could have made it too.
His team rose from their couches in the hotel room, and everyone started to file out, ready to make their way downstairs.
“Mitt, can you wait a second?” Paul said, standing in front of the coffee table.
Ann looked back at Mitt expectantly but Mitt waved her off. “I’ll be down in a sec.”
Paul looked at his shoes for a couple seconds before meeting Mitt’s eyes again. “I really thought we could make it to the top.”
“Well,” Mitt forced a chuckle. “Sometimes you can never really tell how things will end up.”
Paul smiled at that. “You’re right.” He let a silence float over them before laughing quietly. “Do you ever think about what it would have been like?”
“Of course. Half of this campaign that was the only thing on my mind.”
Paul’s cheeks began to redden. “I really was thinking that that would be our future.”
Mitt nodded and took Paul’s hand, earning an expression of surprise from Paul. “Just because we won’t make it to the presidency doesn’t mean that we won’t make it there.”
And then, the most incredible thing of all, Paul leaned in to kiss him, lacing his fingers into Mitt’s salt and pepper hair. The kiss was soft and pure and full of everything beautiful thing that that campaign was. It was them, getting to know each other, sharing laughs, and sticking together every step of the way. They parted, their hands still together.
“Thank you Paul,” Mitt whispered.
Paul kissed Mitt’s forehead gently. “We should probably join everyone.” And so they did.
That was the last night for a while that Mitt saw Paul. He was there to congratulate him on attaining the Speakership but beyond that, the distance was grating. And then, out of nowhere, the President Elect, whom Mitt had criticised rightfully and consistently, was asking him to be the Secretary of State. He should have said no on principle, but there was something that held him back from that. Aside from the political opportunities, the nonstop replay of 2012 in his head was haunting him, and it was absolutely crazy, but in that moment, in Trump’s cartoonishly golden office in Trump Tower, Mitt thought about what Paul would want for him. He would want only the best, for sure. And maybe this wasn’t going to be the best. But Mitt was sure of one thing, it would bring him closer to someone he had been missing too much over these last four years, so he said yes.
In the bustle of the White House halls came Paul, in that moment, walking confidently towards him, wearing his typical light blue tie that brought out his eyes.
“Mitt!” He exclaimed, pulling Mitt into a tight hug and burying his face into Mitt’s neck for a brief moment. “How are you feeling?”
Mitt nodded to himself, trying to hide his flushed face. “I’m well, and the family is doing good. And you?”
“Basically the same. Things have really been looking up, especially with you joining things here,” He set his hand on Mitt’s shoulder.
Mitt smiled. “I’m really happy to be working with you again.”
“Me too,” Paul returned the smile and they looked at each other for a moment. “Also-- before I forget-- I’ve gotta say I was surprised you took this role.”
Mitt chucked. “I’m in the same boat, trust me.”
“So, what drove you to say yes?”
Mitt smiled softly, looking into Paul’s eyes. “I guess you could say that I followed my heart.”
Paul nodded with a loving smile at that, and the two of them disappeared into the bustling bodies of the halls, ready to start a new chapter.