Prison Break!!!! [BidenxTrump] [Triden]

prison break innit

Joe had felt the black cloud of depression and hopelessness hover over him ever since he got the news. His beloved Donald, hardened and furious mugshot broadcast for all to see, imprisoned for his crimes for most likely the rest of their lives. It was as good as over between them; conjugal visits would be on the headlines of CNN in a heartbeat.

It was hell for him to have fallen for the political enemy, yet here he was.

That's why he'd just wrapped up a meeting with a couple of his most trusted guards, men who would back him through thick and thin. Men who knew how to keep their mouths shut. Because Joe and Donald had a plan, a brilliant plan, the best plan of all plans in history. Call him Wentworth Miller, because he was about to execute a prison break so great that it will go down in legend.

Of course, he had to spin some conspiracy over it. Hardcore MAGA folks will be helping him bust out and go into hiding, not Sleepy Joe and his closest confidantes. He'd hide out in a purpose-built basement of Joe's spare house –– the one that wasn't the White House –– funded by some leftover Mexico money. Though it lacked windows, it replicated them with the latest Muskian AI crypto-technology, completely untraceable and with the bonus of scrambling radars and surveillance signals on command. Their own sci-fi love nest, complete with tentacles fitted into their special room for special activities (Don's idea).

Joe smiled again, excited to enact his plan. Now he just had to wait for the all-clear. That arrived a few days later, thankfully, since the author couldn't be arsed to write out the actual mission plan since she hasn't played Metal Gear in a while. Anyway, here Joe was, decked out in a sneaking suit and thermal goggles, holding the key which unlocked Don's room.

"Hey Giuliani [authors note: no relation], I'm in position," he whispered, crouched in position in a slick manner unbefitting of a geriatric man who falls over on the steps to Air Force One and lives on nothing but ice cream.

"Copied," replied Nameless Guard #1. "Operation Hamburglar commence!"

It was extremely anti-climactic. Having rendered the guards unconscious with the clap of his old man asscheeks (and the noxious gas thrown into the ventilation system), Joe turned the key in the lock and came face to face with the beautiful though un-orange face he'd come to love over the course of the 2020 election run-up.

"Donnie..." he gasped. "Your tan..."

"I-I know Joe," Donald said through tears, "They won't let me use my beloved St. Tropez in here. It's tragic."

"I know my darling Donnie-chan, but we're here to save you now," Joe replied, himself too on the verge of crying. Wiping the single tear from the corner of his eye, he swooped forward to straddle his love and kissed him. The taste of Big Macs and fries with ketchup was missing, making Joe shed another tear. Though he wasn't upset enough to not snog the face off of Don until his button mushroom was poking into his thigh. With his presidential pistol also easily visible through his military-strength lycra, he couldn't help but grind against him for 28 seconds until Don let out a choked cry and Nameless Guard #2 cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We need to go," Joe whispered breathlessly. "The guards will wake up again soon, and also I need to leave a deposit in your offshore bank account ASAP."

"Let's move out," Nameless Guard #1 insisted. "Also, Mr. Trump, sir... you have a stain on your prison overalls."

Donald flushed bright red, a sight not usually seen underneath all of the spray tan. "I, uh, smuggled a mayonnaise packet in here. The best mayonnaise in the country. It must have ruptured."

"Sure, Jan," Nameless Guard #2, obviously a filthy liberal, snarked in response.

After a wild prison break that I'm sure would be very interesting if this wasn't just a lazy joke fic, Joe and Donald were fucking in their special room. It was very hot, and Joe even went along with Don's desire to call him Onii-chan and plunder his cave with the tentacle dildo to make up for all of the lost opportunities from his 4 days in prison.

In the aftermath, Donald plaited Joe's chest hair, rubbing off even more of his freshly-applied tan onto his pale body.

"I missed you so much, Donnie baby," Joe sighed. "I can't live without you any longer. I'm quitting the presidency."

"B-But Joe..." Donald replied, "You worked so hard for it against me in 2020."

"True, but I don't want it if it means I can't desecrate your memorial 5 times a day."

With that, Joe took another Cialis and got to work all over again and they shagged each other happily ever after until they both got a heart attack and died like old people do in The Sims. God fucking Bless.