STARLINKED • An Elon Musk x Donald Trump Fanfiction

Chapter 1 - Mars is Cancelled

The waves of realization had left lingering damage on Elon's mind. He stared at the coffee cup before him, slightly colder than when Donald had first poured it for him. The orange man had been unable to sleep with excitement in the last few days, much less on the last night of his weekend getaway with his lover. He had gotten up early to cook Elon breakfast. Unfortunately, his lack of education extended to homely activities, resulting in salty eggs and burnt toast - only the coffee had survived, even if slightly watered down. He had instead Doordashed some Denny's.

"Sugar?" Donald called out from behind Elon, who was sitting in his kitchen's island.

Donald's voice interrupted his trance bitterly. He looked over his shoulder, his reddish-pink forehead creasing. "I thought we agreed no more nicknames now that..."

"I was asking if you wanted sugar, for the..." Donald clarified, setting down the sugar container before Elon and motioning to his drink. Now with a mug of his own, he added fourteen spoonfuls to his creamer-diluted coffee.

Elon shook his head, returning to the overanalyzing of the beverage. The bright lights that adorned the kitchen helped to make his face visible in the liquid, reflecting the face that just a few days ago had been rejoicing his partner's national victory. Nothing overjoyed Elon more than seeing Donald so happy, especially knowing he had been able to contribute to the success of the campaign. Whether or not those methods were legal was another conversation - regardless of the risk, Elon would do anything to make his Donny happy.

Even if it meant going back to secrecy as he took office once more.

Their friendship had taken a turn after Elon's initial speech during one of Donald's rallies. He had found Trump crying alone in his dressing trailer while searching for his Cybertruck (it had a habit of driving off nowadays). Behind a locked door, Donald had sobbed into Elon's shoulder as he expressed how he couldn't understand how stars like Megan Thee Stallion and Bryan Cranston were attending Kamala Harris' rallies while he was stuck with supporters like Bryce Hall.

"I thought we were getting Nicki Nicole," he wailed, his tears ruining the tan of that morning, "not Nicky Jam! I wanted her to perform Super Bass."

"That's Nicki Minaj," Elon corrected gently.

"I just don't get it, Elon. I'm so smart. I can outrun Sleepy Joe. I even went on Ozempic for this! Why can't anyone see how great I am?" he sighed, lips trembling.

Elon withdrew from Donald just enough to wipe his tears with his thumbs. "I do, Donald," he assured softly, "I see how great you are."

For the next two weeks, they were inseparable. By the third, their affair had begun.

Every second they spent together, the harder they fell for eachother. They both were wealthy. They both were serial cheaters. They both neglected their children. It was like looking in the mirror.

Donald was the one who had introduced Elon to religion. Sure, he had never read the Bible entirely (much less understood it) but he taught Elon what verses he could misinterpret and weaponize against queer people and women who wanted to live peacefully. Elon absorbed it all, hanging onto every word that came out of that small mouth that always looked like it had just sucked on a lemon.

It wasn't easy to hide their relationship, as they were so recognizable. Both of their families were accustomed to their absence, which allowed for more frecuent dates. Elon had found success by making a clone of himself with the money he made off of David Dobrik in the 2010s and once Donald removed his toupee and tan he was practically transparent.

With their friendship being public, things had become easier. Now established as one of Donald's good friends and coworkers, he saw the future with him more comfortably. A miniscule part of him even wished Donald would lose so they could extend their press together - even if out of denial on the results.

But Donald won, and while he was filled with admiration for the 78 year old, he couldn't shake the fact that their responsibilities would pull them apart and spotlight them more than ever. Elon was willing to go through six bankruptcies to keep his partner all to himself.

Sadly, that was Donald's reality, not his.

They had the "talk", deciding that while they could occassionally see eachother, the best course of action was to cut the intimacy. That included nicknames, which was what had taken Elon by surprise when Donald had mentioned the sugar. No reason for concern though - just a painful reminder of what this election had costed him.

"You okay, Musky?" Donald ask, pecking his cheek as he stirred his coffee.

Elon took a second, wondering if his mourning was worth spoiling their last morning together. He met Donald's eyes, giving him a nod.

"Just fine," Elon assured. He would have four years to be devastated. Today, at least, he had his Donald.