Work Text:
Michael Stevens supposed that the consequences of working with someone for over a year was unintentionally growing close to them.
...No, that didn't seem quite right. The Prime Minister had worked with plenty of people in his career. Yet he had always been able to keep his distance. The only change in the equation was Sebastian Love.
The Prime Minister didn't particularly like him, at first. Sebastian was strange; overprotective and ridiculously affectionate, and Michael found it more than a little grating.
But with time he grew to appreciate Sebastian's passion and dedication. Hell, the Prime Minister even became fond of him and his little quirks.
Michael hadn't been looking for any friends. But somehow, Sebastian had melted the Prime Minister's icy diposition, revealing someone more soft. They even began to hang out outside of work two or 3 months ago.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Michael wanted to discuss their upcoming buisness trip, though they wound up getting sidetracked about an hour ago. But they had gone over most of their plans, so Michael wasn't particularly bothered. They were currently chatting over drinks.
"Who's your celebrity crush?" Michael suddenly asked. He wondered what kind of men his aide found attractive.
"Anthony Head." Sebastian answered, without even the slightest moment of hesitation.
"Anthony Head?" Michael blinked, a little thrown by how quickly he answered. The Prime Minister didn't recognize the name but it sounded distantly familar...
"He's an English actor who's in this American TV show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He the main girl's mentor, teaching her how to slay demons and all that." Sebastian surmised with a wave of his hand.
Michael raised a brow. "I never took you for a horror fan."
"You know me too well. " Sebastian mused, observing the older man with a fond little smile.
The moment felt strangely intimate, causing Michael to look away. The Prime Minister's face warmed as he took a sip from his drink.
The aide blinked, seeming to realize that he was staring. "Erm... Anyways, yeah. You're right. I definitley don't like horror, I only watch Buffy for... him." He admitted with a dreamy little sigh, taking a sip of his fruity cocktail.
Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. "Though he's always wearing these hideous little grandfather sweater vests and tweed jackets with elbow patches." He revealed, his face tinged with disgust.
Michael squinted at the younger man. "...Why do you like him, then?" He didn't sound very alluring.
Sebastian giggled at his superior's confusion. "Only his character wears those monstrosities. But Anthony's properly sexy..." Sebastian admitted slyly, making the Prime Minister frown.
Sebastian smiled as he stirred his drink with a teeny tiny straw, swishing the berries and melting ice cubes. "But I only fancy him because he looks like-" The Aide glanced back at the Prime Minister, before suddenly freezing up.
Michael waited for him to continue, but the younger man remained quiet. "...Looks like what?..." The Prime Minister prompted after a beat of awkward silence.
Sebastian blinked. "Um. He looks like. Erm..." The aide fidgeted with his tie, cursing when he spilt some of his drink. "What I meant to say is..." he mumured a quick thanks when the Prime Minister offered him a tissue. "...well he looks like..." Sebastian laughed nervously as he dried his hand.
"...?"
"A very..." There was a long moment of hesitation. "... very dilfy man." Sebastian took a dainty sip from his drink, averting his eyes from Michael's curious gaze.
"'Dilfy'?" Michael repeated, sounding confused. "What is a 'Dilfy' man?" He imagined it was some new slang that he was horribly out of the loop on.
"A dilf is a Dad I'd like to Fuck" Sebastian explained, making the Prime Minister choke on his drink. The aide cleared his throat, before abrubtly rising from his seat. "Anyways, I need to get going. I have to finish packing my suitcase." He smoothed over his trousers, almost nervously.
"Oh?" Michael blinked. He glanced down at Sebastian's half full glass. "But you haven't finished your-?"
Sebastian quickly downed the rest of his drink, cringing at the sharp rush of alcohol. "Thanks for the drink, darling!" he beamed, placing the empty glass back on it's coaster. "Bye!" He gave Michael a little wave.
"Goodnight?" The Prime Minister told his office rather than his Aide, as the man had scurried away before the words even left Michael.
...
...
...
What the fuck?
Michael knew Sebastian liked to take his sweet time when he drank with the Prime Minister. Why would he run off like that? Michael couldn't think of anything that had happened, except-
Oh...right. Sebastian began acting strangly after talking about that actor. Did he really fancy the man that much? The Prime Minister frowned at the thought.
Maybe calling it an early night wasn't the worst idea Michael mused, as he finished the remanents of his drink. He and Sebastian had an early flight to catch.
~
"And then- are you even fucking paying attention?" The American snapped.
"Hm?" Michael blinked, yanking his attention from beyond the windows of the White House. The President glared at him, having finally stopped pacing in his Oval office.
"Oh...Sorry. I zoned out..." Michael admitted sheepishly. He was thinking about Sebastian, again. His strange behaviour from the previous night bled into their flight to the US. So much so that Sebastian didn't even offer to hold Michael's hand during take off, and he knew about the Prime Minister's anxiety about flying!
...
...
...
Not that he wanted to hold Sebastian's hand! It was moreso the principle of the matter. It was just so unusual for Sebastian to be withdrawn. What kind of man could affect his aide so intensley?
"Well I was telling you about how the new Japanese PM is a stuck up dickhole-"
"Do you know who Anthony Head is, by chance?" Michael cut the President off. He couldn't even pretend to care about whatever the fuck he was going on about.
The American frowned, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "And what? This is more important than my hot gossip?" He grumbled.
"..."
"Fine!" The President scowled at the Prime Minister's silence. "-I'll answer your stupid question...Erm..." he seemed thoughtful; an incredibly rare occurence. "Nah, can't say that I know him." The American shrugged. "Why, is he some new guy that you're fucking?"
Michael sighed. Ever since he ended their friends with benefits fling, the American had become even bitchier than usual. The Prime Minister vowed to never hook up with another world leader again. It was just way too fucking messy.
"No..." Michael gave him an unimpressed look. "I don't know Anthony personally, but Sebastian said that he's a very 'dilfy' actor" the Prime Minister explained, clicking his pen with a frown.
"Who the fuck is Sebastian??" The President's face scrunched in confusion.
Michael raised a brow. "My Senior Aide, Sebastian?" He tried to clarify. When the President's face remained blank, Michael added, "...He usually acompanies me wherever I go?" If the President said he never noticed a 6 foot tall man strutting by the Prime Minster's side then Michael was going to scream because how was that even fucking possible???
"Ohh Sebastian's your fruity assitant!" The President snapped his fingers in recognition.
"Yes, Sebastian's my fru- wait, how did you know that's he's gay?" Michael asked, completley caught off guard. He only knew because Sebastian confided in him during one of their sleepovers. The Prime Minister was honoured that Sebastian trusted him with something so deeply personal.
"Well, I figured he was gay because I have eyes that work." The President said flatly.
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning he's always checking out your ass when he thinks no one's watching." The President snorted.
"WHAT!?" Michael choked, feeling blood rush to his face. "Why on earth would you say that?!"
"Because it's true?"
The Prime Minister scoffed, crossing his arms. "Just because Sebastian's gay it doesn't mean that he fancies me. Besides, he's only attracted to dilfs named Anthony Head." He added with a scowl. "I just wanted to know if his supposed 'dilf status' was accurate." He continued clicking his pen, seeming disappointed.
The American watched Michael's fidgeting, raising a brow. It was unusual for him to be so distracted. Even when they used to fool around, it was always the Prime Minister who made a point to get at least some work done.
Then the President remembered the computer on his desk. "But now that you mention it..." He trailed off, walking back around his big office desk.
"...Are we going back to work?" Michael blinked in surprise. He knew how much the American hated doing buisness. The President would much rather get drunk and have fun and eat macaroni and cheese.
"Fuck no." The President snorted as he powered on his desktop.
"But then why-?"
"Because shush and look away! I don't want you peeking at my password." He looked over at the Prime Minister with a sneer.
Michael's gawked."I wasn't going to peek!" He sputtered out; indignant.
"And I'm pretty sure that being quiet and looking away doesn't sound like that!" The American snapped.
Michael stared at the other man. He wondered if it was worth putting up with such an incorrigible bitch just to see whatever he had planned. He wanted leave for England and never return to this stupid office again.
But Michael didn't want to further jepeordise Anglo-American relations. So he heaved a resigned sigh. "Fine." He acquiesed, turning his body away.
The President eyed him suspiciously, before quickly typing : Michael <3 (What?! The President changed it when they were still fucking around!)
"Okay, I finished." The President announced, opening up his search engine.
"Finally." Michael rolled his eyes, swiveling back around in his office chair.
"So, what's the name of the dude Sebastian likes?" The President asked, looking up expectantly.
"Anthony Head?..." Michael supplied impatiently, trying to keep the agitation out of his voice. The Prime Minister had mentioned it three times by now!
"Alright...Anthony... Head.." The President mumured, typing the characters painfully slow on his clunky keyboard.
"Could you type any slower?" Michael snapped.
"Alright! Yeesh." The President grumbled, hitting the final few letters before clicking search. "Why are you so antsy about the guy, Princess?" He scoffed, watching Michael suspiciously.
"I'm not antsy!" Michael lied. "I just want to see if he's sexy! And I thought I told you to stop calling me Princess!" The President gifted Michael the horrendous nickname back when they were still shagging. It was so irritating it made Michael's teeth hurt.
"Mmm you did, I just chose to ignore you." The President admitted with a cackle.
"I can't believe I ever found you attractive!" Michael seethed.
"...Really? Obviously it's cause I'm hot as fuck, man-" The President glanced back at his screen, his eyes widening. "What the fuck?" He glanced from his computer to the now confused looking Prime Minister. "How is this even possible?" He whispered, looking completely astonished.
"What? What is it?" Michael asked, a horrible dread sinking in his stomach. Was that Anthony bloke really that attractive???
"I just...you...he..." The President stammered, apparently ceasing to function.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" The Prime Minister snapped, rising from his chair and storming behind the President's desk. Michael couldn't take any more suspense!
"Hey!" The American barked. "Don't come behind my desk without my permission, bitch!"
"Too late." The Prime Minister smirked, though it faded as his eyes focused on the screen. "...Why are you looking at pictures of me?"
"I'm not! The guy's your fucking twin!" The President explained.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course Anthony Head just happens to look exactly like me." He uttered sarcastically, glaring at the other World Leader. "Honestly, I don't know why you insist that Sebastian fancies m-"
"Look! At! The name! Of the fucking guy! Read his fucking name!" The President yelled, imapatiently jabbing the monitor with his finger.
Michael scowled at being cut off but decided to humour his
stupid request. "Anthony Head..." The Prime Minister read aloud. "What..." he stared at the screen, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. "Click on another image." Michael demanded. He needed proof that the American wasn't just fucking with him.
The President rolled his eyes. "Fine, but don't boss me around, Princess." He warned, before clicking onto the next image. And then the next. And the next few after that.
Michael simply stared, ignoring the childish man. The Prime Minister's shock mounted with each passing image. He would have assumed there was a mistake if Anthony didn't dress in a different style. Or attend events that the Prime Minister wouldn't have been anywhere near.
Plus, Anthony seemed to have an ear piercing in some images, something Michael never had.
"Actually... I think I remember a few people telling me I look strikingly similar to an actor. I just never paid them any mind..." He recounted faintly, watching the man behind the screen in disbelief.
"Damn...you think he would be down for threesome with you and me?" The President wondered, looking hopeful.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Can you fuck off!" He swat at the American's arm. He was truly fucking insufferable.
"OW! What?! I'm only human!" He defended, rubbing at his now sore arm. "Ouchie... That really hurted." He whined, frowning at Michael.
The Prime Minister ignored him. "Wait...isn't it odd that Sebastian likes him? I mean Anthony resembles me almost perfectly..." Michael realized, as he continued to stare at the actor's image.
The President slowly looked up from his screen, staring at the Prime Minister in disbelief. The American's mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he asked, "...Are you fucking stupid?"
"Hey!" Michael exclaimed, throughly offended.
"WAIT!" The President gasped.
"What?!" The Prime Minister demanded.
"I fucking told you, didn't I?"
"Told me what?!"
"That Sebastian was fruity for you!" The President cackled, pointing his finger at Michael's face.
Michael deflated with a frown. "Can you stop calling him that?" He felt his agitation building.
"What?," The President snorted. "Fruity? What would would you call him, then? A ladies man?" He snickered.
"We've literally had sex!" The Prime Minister gestured between himself and the other man. "If he's fruity, then so are you and I!" He exclaimed incredulously. Talk about hypocrisy...
"Yeah, I like dudes sometimes," The President shrugged, before shooting the Prime Minister a wink. The British man struggled not to audibly gag. "But I am nowhere near as fruity as he is." He sneered.
"I told you to stop calling him that!" Michael snapped.
The President scowled, as if Michael had rained all over his parade. "Why do you even care about the kid? He's just the help." His face scrunched in disgust.
Michael's jaw clenched in anger; how dare he speak about Sebastian that way! "You know what? I really don't have the patience for this anymore." Michael snapped, walking away from the American.
"Wait, are you leaving?" The President did a double take as the Englishman picked up his briefcase, haphazardly shoving his papers inside.
"If we're not going to discuss buisness then, yes! I am leaving!" Michael snapped, his voice sharp like static.
The President scoffed. "Oh come on, Princess. Don't be like that." He smirked, rising from his seat. "Forget the twink." He waved his hand dismissively, before walking towards the Prime Minister. "Look...If you apologize for being annoying I'll let you take me out for a nice, fancy dinner. Pretty fucking great, right?" He chuckled, taking Michael's hand in both of his.
The Prime Minister stared at him. "Are you...are you asking me on a date?" Michael asked slowly, watching the President caress his hand in disbelief.
"Well... maybe a little more than a date..." he chuckled lustfully. "But yeah. I want you, Princess. For real this time. I don't think I've wanted a man this bad since the first time I saw Al Pacino." He sighed wistfully.
Michael's jaw hit the floor; What the actual fuck?? "Is this why you're being so nasty about Sebastian? Are you jealous??"
The President glowered. "God, can you shut up about him, already? As if I'd ever be jealous of that little shit." He sneered.
"Fuck you!" Michael snapped, yanking his hand back and putting some much needed distance. "I'd much rather be with Sebastian over someone as horrible as you!"
The President's jaw dropped, a wave of hurt crashing over his face, before anger quickly washed it away. "Don't even joke like that..." he growled.
"I wasn't joking. I told you to stop berating him!." The Prime Minister snarled.
The President smiled cruelly. "Sweetheart, you might be good at sucking my dick-" he moved closer to the Englishman, invading his space once more. "- but don't you ever EVER tell me what to do. Least of all on my fucking territory." He spat, puffing out his chest like an orrangutan.
Michael seethed, his face flushed with anger. "Go fuck yourself." Michael glowered, speeding off to the door.
The President watched him go; a mixture of hurt and rage swirling in his head.
"Oh, and Stevens?" The American called out impulsively.
Michael paused; eyeing him warily.
"I was wrong."
The Prime Minister looked suspicious. "...About what?"
"Anthony Head isn't your twin; He's like a jillion times hotter than you." He sneered, before slamming a button on his desk.
Michael let out a horrified gasp as the American laughed, numerous Secret Service men bursting into the room. "Get him!" The President barked.
"Of course Sir!" They nodded, swarming him immediately.
"Let go of me!" Michael yelled, thrashing against his guards. It was no use; The Prime Minister was outnumbered.
"Prime Minister? Are you alright, sir?!" Sebastian's voice sounded from behind the door. "What's going on!!"
The President froze; the aide's frightened voice bringing him back to reality.
"What should we do, Sir?" The guards asked, holding the restless Prime Minister in their grip.
The American hesitated; clearly wanting to unleash havoc.
"OPEN THE DOOR!!" Sebastian wailed, pounding the door desperatley. "MICHAEEELLLL!!" He sobbed.
"Are you mad enough to cause an international incident!" Michael shouted, his heart thumping in his throat. He was more fearful of what the American might do to Sebastian rather than to himself.
The President crumbled. "God Damnit!" He snapped, raking his fingers roughly through his hair. "Look, you've got less than hour to get you and your Parliament of Spice Girls the fuck out of my country, Stevens or I'll send you to the fucking moon!" The President spat, before shoving the Prime Minister harshly.