Work Text:
Hey, Charlie.. do you believe in love? "
Erdmann asked hesitatanly. He looked to his side where his best friend, and love of his life, sat. Their fingers were entwined between them. They sat on the pavement right outside the school Erdmann worked at. Everyone else had gone home but he stayed behind. He wasn't ready to go home yet, so he called Charlie over and here they were.
Charlie seemed taken aback by the question. Of course he loved his husband Trump, but when he awoke at night to his lover texting someone else late at night he didn't know anymore.
"I don't know, " he said, "I'm not some liberal sissy who thinks about that stuff. " Charlie chuckled at the thought of him being a submissive leftist.
"What about you and Trump? " Erdmann leaned in close as he asked. His eyes filling with something Charlie couldn't comprehend.
"Don't ask such things, our relationship is of course perfect. " he replied heated. How dare Erdmann question his love for Trump. It didn't matter if he wasn't the only one, they were married that made him more important than any Elon Musk or Putin.. he hoped.
"Right, sorry.. " Erdmann said. He spoke softly like he felt bad about pressing Charlie into snapping at him.
Neither said anything after that.
Just when the silence was edging into awkward territory Charlie's phone went off. It was a notification from Twitter.
Dean Withers commented under his new tweet.
• "Why won't you debate me Charlie?? "
He sighed loudly.
"Look at the time! I got a debate tomorrow I should turn in for the night. " he said. He started stretching and faked yawn to emphasize his point.
"Oh!.. Right well, goodnight Charlie. " Erdmann replied.
Charlie stood up and started heading to his cybertruck. Erdmann watched him go with longing. He knew his friend would go home to a empty house. Trump didn't see how good he had it, could never appreciate the gummy smile Charlie always gave him.
He could.
Only he could see Charlie for what he really was. Not dean, not Trump. Erdmann. If it was him in Trumps place, they would watch star wars every night, go on debate dates, ai generate love letters to each other, they would do everything together.
But he wasn't Trump, he wasn't next to Charlie in bed, he wasn't even his beloved rival. Dean Withers.
That liberal phony probably only joined the opposite side so he could talk to Charlie! The thought made Erdmann want to vomit.
He watched as Charlie's car got smaller and smaller in the distance. He vowed to himself that he would get these feelings off his chest. Even if the man didn't feel the same way at least he would know there was always a shoulder to cry on when Trump cancelled a date to golf with Biden, or a woman aborted a life.
He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, it was 6:54 September 9th.
He would confess tomorrow after work. Erdmann resolved as he finally decided to head home himself.
But the time never came, and the very next day the headline dropped.
Charlie was shot and in critical condition. And in the next few hours he was pronounced dead.
Erdmann never even got to tell him how he felt.