Chapter Text
Biden feels himself pushed against the office wall, the cinderbrick digging into his back. He stares into those burning eyes of one Donald Trump. Trump pushes him further back into the wall, lips meeting his as they share another fevered kiss.
"Trump," Biden whines, captivated by that intense orange glare.
"Please, i need more-" the president silences him with his lips, tounge exploring his mouth. The two politicians sloppily make out in that position, Trump's arms drifting down the length of Biden's back.
Everywhere he feels Trump's touch, Biden feels a burning heat.
Trump has just started to fidget with the band of Biden's belt, when a knock sounds at the door and its shoved open without warning.
"Oh Donnie!~ Look who dug up some more Files-" the voice cut off eith a sharp gasp. Trump turned around, cheeks burning red. Oh no. The worst possible person. His boyfriend. Kim Jong Un.
"Kim, please, its not what it looks like-"
" I know EXACTLY what it looks like. How could you do this to me? Especially you." He turns to the writer.
"You wrote this story, MAKE HIM NOT CHEAT ON ME!!!" The writer responds in a low, rumbling voice.
"Sorry, but is good dra-" the writer starts coughing.
"Damn it, should practice doing that more." Their voice has shifted up about an octave, and sounds more like a teenager.
"Anyway, the whole cheating plotline is good drama. So im keeping that." Kim Jong Un flips the writer off, then duct tapes the fourth wall back together and goes back to the story.
"Donnie, i thought we had something. I thought this love was strong enough for you." Trump at least has the dignity to look guilty.
"Listen, i- i never see you. And i needed to confess my feelings for Biden before the next election, otherwise it will be too late!" Biden speaks up, saying his words of the fic that werent about Trump.
"Fuck this, Kim, i had a crush on you from the start!" He pulls Trump and Kim Jong Un into a hug.
"How about its a threesome, us together!"
"Sure, Biden, whatever you say so long as i can control the country."
"Whatever. Anything to stay with my boyfriend."
So they make out together until midnight, when the Fourth of July fireworks come on and a very well placed rocket blows Kim Jong Un up. The author laughs from behing the hastily-repaired fourth wall.
"Dont think i forgot about that middle finger, Kim Jong Un."