Good Night, My president

“Good morning, Mr. President." A man walked into the president's office without knocking, a tray in his left hand carrying two cups of coffee. The tall, lean man sitting behind the president’s desk looked up and accepted the warm coffee from the man standing across from him—a little shorter, a little broader, and, today, a little smug. The temperature was perfect. Elric Wagner downed it in one go, then set the mug aside onto his crowded desk. "Darling, just because we barely slept last night doesn't mean I didn't hear what you called me just now." He reached across the desk and pulled the man over, away from the spinning globe he seemed to love playing with every morning. Elric still didn’t understand why he was so fascinated by that thing. "Sweetheart, if I remember correctly, you really enjoyed—" "Shut up." Andz like always, Elric smiled and leaned in to kiss Cael’s soft but not quite full lips. He always liked to savor their texture first—then, they parted slowly, lips brushing, before Elric’s tongue slipped in with practiced ease. He s*ck*d hard, then withdrew suddenly. When he opened his eyes again, Cael’s were still closed, long lashes fluttering, mouth slightly open. He looked beautiful like that. His eyes—God, his eyes. That thought alone made Elric grin uncontrollably. "Mr. Advisor, how much sugar did your trembling hand put in my coffee this morning, can you even tell?" "It’s not that sweet," Cael said, refusing to admit anything—though he was still tasting Elric on his lips. It was sweet, alright. Too sweet. "I just thought, since your schedule's packed and you won’t have time for lunch, I better keep your blood sugar up." "Oh, is that so? Well then—thank you." Elric took the mug from the table as he spoke. Cael said to his back “See you in a bit.” “See you, love.” Elric didn’t look back—but if he had, he would’ve seen the smirk Cael failed to suppress. The first meeting of the day was with Education Minister Soraya Malric. Along with academic experts, child psychologists, and social media executives, they were here to discuss future educational directions—particularly the growing concern of juvenile crime across Europe. “Honestly,” said one of the psychologists, dark-skinned and impeccably dressed, “when I found out the suspect in that horrific teen murder case in Germany wasn’t a person of color, I was—relieved.” “And what do you think, Madame Minister?” Elric asked, his tone calm, pen twirling between his fingers. Occasionally, his eyes flicked toward the man standing by the wall—his senior advisor Cael Morrow—watching like he was waiting for an assignment. Cael met his eyes. They smiled. Quietly. Only the two of them understood the language of that smile. Cael, officially, was Elric’s Senior Policy Advisor. But unofficially? He was so much more. Though the actual paperwork and routine tasks were left to the secretarial team, Cael’s core duties were strategic and emotional. He provided counsel on sensitive policy matters, filtered intelligence reports, advised on public perception—and most importantly, calmed the nerves of a president constantly under siege from both the dogmatic right and the chaotic left. Last week, the leftists threw a fit in the parliamentary hearing over Elric’s nominee for Minister of Finance—Niklas Varent. The complaints were endless: that no citizen would trust a guy who wore bespoke Italian suits and bragged about his private wine cellar on Twitter; that as the heir to an old industrial fortune, he probably never studied a day in his life; that his degrees were “bought” and his brains borrowed. Elric nearly lost it. He paced his office like a caged animal, muttering loudly: “The last guy was a bookworm genius with autism and they said he was out of touch. So what do they want? A dog?” Cael said nothing, just gently ruffled Elric’s absurdly soft hair. When the president’s body finally stopped radiating stress like a power plant, Cael lowered his hands to Elric’s cheeks and kissed his forehead—slow, damp, grounding. “Don’t insult dogs. Dogs are adorable.” His fingers traced circles on Elric’s hand—this man was a purebred political hound, no question. “You know no matter what you do, someone will always object,” Cael murmured. “So let’s just do what we believe is right.” “I think it's time we introduce formal restrictions on social media access for minors,” Soraya said. “I agree,” Elric nodded, signaling for her to continue. “Apps like t****k and i********: encourage impressionable kids to imitate dangerous behavior. I suggest we ban access for anyone under 13 unless explicitly approved by a guardian—with registration at a designated office and signed waivers.” The group discussed and revised the details together. Once the policy was refined, Elric slowly loosened his tie and called the meeting to a close. When everyone had filed out, only he and Cael remained in the conference room. Cael walked over and pressed a kiss to Elric’s messy hair. At that exact moment, they both heard footsteps growing louder. Cael’s head snapped up just in time to see the child psychologist from earlier poke his head into the room. His face betrayed nothing. “Sorry, Mr. President—I forgot my phone.” He gestured toward the black slab sitting obviously on the table. “Thought I had it in my pocket the whole time,” he said with a sheepish smile. Elric suppressed a sigh and waved him off. As the man picked up the phone and turned to leave, Cael could’ve sworn he shot him a look—just for a second. That close call was way too much for two men pushing forty. Back in the office, door locked, Cael cupped his hands over his face. “Sh*t.” Cael spoke as he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “So hot.” Elric thought absently. “You think he saw?” “I am not sure…” Elric pulled him close. “Even if he did, it’s fine. He’s not an official. Doesn’t matter. Let it go—we’ve got another meeting.” Usually, Cael was the one soothing Elric’s frayed nerves, especially after debates with stubborn conservatives or radical leftists. But today’s threat wasn’t political—it was personal. Still, Cael forced himself to calm down. What’s done is done. And besides, maybe they weren’t caught after all. He hugged Elric back—softly. That was all the permission Elric needed to let go.