The food is on a little tray, which I was counting on. They even included cutlery.
I sit, positioning the tray next to me on the sofa. I put Elliot back into position between my legs, and then I proceed to cut the sandwich into bite-sized pieces. Once I open the chips and lay a napkin over my slacks to protect them, I pick up a piece of the sandwich.
“Head up, boy.”
He lifts his head and, when he sees what I’m holding, his mouth automatically opens.
“Good boy.” I return one hand to his head so I can rub it for him.
His eyes drop closed as he chews.
I watch him. As always, since it’s late in the day, there’s a dark shadow of stubble along his jaw. I hadn’t noticed earlier, because the whole he-had-my-cock-down-his-throat thing sort of distracted me a little.
Note to self, make sure we always pack an electric razor for late-day touch-ups, even on day trips. And the charger cord.
Otherwise, he’ll start looking like shit during appearances late in the day.
Actually, I’ll need to put together a kit that will automatically go everywhere with us, including spare clothes, makeup for on-camera appearances, and other things I’ll need for him, and for Duck. He won’t be able to go-go-go as hard as he’ll need to for a presidential campaign without some personal logistics prep. The spotlight wasn’t on him quite as brightly before. If he had to disappear into a bathroom or behind a closed door for a few minutes to adjust things, it wasn’t noticed.
Now, it will be, and questions will no doubt be lobbed at him by his opponents that it speaks to fitness to perform the duties of his office.
The truth is, this man is harder and tougher than nearly everyone I know, including Leo. I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone run him down.
Elliot is now my world. I’ll throw one hundred percent of my efforts into getting him elected and keeping him vertical.
Honestly?
Whether or not I end up with Leo is moot at this point.
Elliotneedsa dedicated keeper if he’s going to survive the election and be POTUS. Me or Leo. But until President Samuels’ second term is over, it’s got to be me by default.
The greater good, and all that.
Means at least I’ll get laid regularly, right?
Even if my heart ends up shredded in the process. Because at some point, this can’t keep working.
Can it?
If it even works to start with. Leo might put an end to it when he returns to DC and finds out what’s going on.
I really hope this doesn’t put me and Leo at odds with each other. I don’t want to defy him, but it’s obvious Elliot is hurting, maybe even worse than I was.
At least I had the freedom to grieve.
Elliot can’t. Worse, it’s a slow decline by infinite degrees, at this point, not a sudden relationship death. It makes me a little angry on Elliot’s behalf, too.
I know he and Leo love each other. I’ll do this as much for Leo, to keep his pet happy and healthy, as I’ll do it for Elliot.
I alternate feeding him bites of sandwich and chips with giving him sips of water, until he’s finished his meal. Then I pull his head close again, the way he was sitting before. One thing I noticed about him before is if he doesn’t eat enough by late in the day, he gets snappy and cranky, loses focus, has trouble immediately remembering things. Misspeaks.
Not exactly things you want captured on cellphone footage, much less by reporters.
Andaaallllof it is now my job to keep track of.
It really does feel like I was adopted by a puppy.
A lost, adrift puppy.
