The Presidential Erection

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞 (𝐩𝐭 𝟏)

AUTHORS NOTE; sorry that it's been like... 3 years. i'm now a senior in high school lol (for perspective , i originally wrote this horrid fanfic as a project for my 9th grade writing class.)
so for everyone in my life who periodically reminds me that this exists , this is for you !
and for all fans ( if there is any ... ?) expect this to be finished in 2-3 parts. you will not have to wait too long. thank you :)) .

(oh! and for plot context, donald and joe soon had a very messy falling out after they killed off that one reporter who was trying to reveal their relationship. this story now takes place a couple years after that...)

Donald fought against his air-sickness as the rickety plane glider toward the private airship on the outskirts of New Orleans.
He looked up to the pilot's seat where Mitch McConnel sat, flying the plane gingerly.
His turtle-like voice called out to Donald,
"Sleepy Joe isn't getting out of the race this easy!"
It had been nearly a year and four months since Joe Biden disappeared while in Louisiana, his campaign bus vanishing without a trace.
Kamala Harris stepped up to the presidency, originally temporarily, but she settled into the role permanently when it became clear that Joe wasn't returning.
Everyone assumed the Vermont politician was dead, but Donald couldn't accept that. Their love couldn't end like this, with so much left unsaid and unheard.
Donald stumbled over his response,
"Y-Yeah, yeah that's right Mitch."
Donald had told Mitch the hunt was to get Joe Biden back into the campaign, so Trump could beat him properly. That wasn't true. It wasn't hatred and competition that drove Donald into his frantic hunt, but love.

The plane landed, and a nondescript car sat to the side, just as intended. Mitch opened the exit to the plane and he and Donald stepped out.
McConnell spoke up,
"We're here. Donald, looks like we're finally gonna' end this."
Donald nervously fidgeted, touching the snub-nosed revolver in his jacket pocket.
"We will Mitch. One way or another..."
Mitch couldn't know. Donald's love for Joe was too shameful, too personal. Too important to be revealed after everything that was done to cover it.

Donald withdrew the gun, and fired a single round into McConnell's chest. Mitch collapsed onto the runway, looking up in silent confusion and horror.
Without another word, Fired another bullet into the senators head. Ending his misery.

He callously bent down and took the blood splattered keys to the car from Mitch's pocket.
He could find the airboat docks on his own, and from there he knew where to go. He checked the small slip of paper he had brought with him. Scribbled in Joes handwriting was a simple message:

Come back.

I still need you

29.4483, -90.0524

-Joseph 🤍

Donald revived the engine of the tahoe, and sped off on his venture into the muddy, humid, pothole filled louisiana trails.
Imputing the coordinates into the GPS did not show a town, or even a shack on the outskirts, but rather a location stranded out in the middle of the bayou. Quite an odd place really, but I suppose it would be pretty nice for someone who wishes not to be found.

His heart was racing with thoughts of Joe. The memories of his tender loving hands, the way they used to jitter across his orange body as Joe had a mild case of Parkinson's...
His beautiful piercing blue eyes...
And his rough, sexy voice...
But also memories of pain, fear, anguish, and horrid experiences.
Decisions and words that he regretted flooded his mind, even more than the hoards of mosquitoes that flooded and splattered outside the car windows.

Should he even be doing this? The few people who knew about their relationship disapproved of it, telling him that Joe was no good for him... but now his one true friend was left for dead by his hands... he's made his choice, there's no going back now.

He deserves closure.