Not My Congressman (ManxMan)

Chapter 11

Finn groaned as he trudged himself up the steps that led up to Wyatt's front doorstep. Though working for Wyatt hadn't been the torturous experience that he had originally anticipated it to be, it didn't help that he was constantly being dragged around to do random ass things for him. Everything from errands, taking his dry cleaning, going to the supermarket to get odds and ends he'd forgotten. At first Finn thought this was the norm for a personal assistant; but soon learnt from the twins that that indeed wasn't the case.

Wyatt's previous PA was an older man who had been a veteran PA for his grandfather; having watched young Wyatt grow up, he thought it was his duty to Wyatt's grandfather to help guide the next generation Montgomery through the crucial first few months of his term as a sitting Congressman. Wyatt relied on him for advice, helping him navigate through the lawmaking process, navigate through the cutthroat and inhospitable world that was Capitol Hill. But what the poor old man thankfully didn't have to endure, was the honor of being Wyatt's errand bitch like Finn had done for the past month.

He rang the door bell and waited patiently for Wyatt to answer; folding his arms over his chest and impatiently tapping his sneakers against the brick he was standing on. He let out an impatient huff as the seconds turn to minutes; wondering where the hell Wyatt could be or what the fuck he was doing. Finally, much to Finn's relief he saw the faint silhouette of a tall man though the frosted glass pane on the front door. The door creaked open slightly, while Wyatt stood behind the door and out of the view and sunlight.

"Fina-fucking-ly. Took you fucking long enough." Finn rolled his eyes playfully; Finn had a way of being bitchy in a playful way that, especially as he got comfortable with someone. Needless to say after a good three weeks of interning with Wyatt, he'd slowly and surely gotten more comfortable with the handsome blond. Lucky for Finn, Wyatt never seemed to complain about his sassy comebacks that often traipsed the fine line between sarcasm and being a downright bitch.

"Okay, chop chop, let's get this over with, I have shit to do." Finn clapped his hands like a suburban soccer-mom trying to wrangle her children into a minivan. "Where all do we need to go, what all do we need. And try not to forget anything this time because I don't wanna have to go get it for you later."

Finn continued on his little rant, walking straight through Wyatt's foyer and into his kitchen; not even paying a single mind to Wyatt who groaned in agony as his eyes tried to avoid the excruciating sunlight coming from the frosted glass on the front door. He stood silently in the corner suppressing the groans as he quietly and patiently waited for Finn's usual tirade to end. He was used to it at this point; the usual 'Why am I here?' "Can't you do your own shopping?" "This is not exactly what I intended to do with my afternoon" "Can we get this over with".

"Finn." Wyatt muttered softly, hoping to God that Finn would get the hint that he was not okay. "Finn." He tried a second time, though the boy's chattering continued; sending shooting and throbbing bouts of pain through Wyatt's cranium. "FINN! SHUT UP!" He screamed sharply, finally getting the boy to stop talking. "JUST PLEASE. SHUT UP FOR JUST A MINUTE."

"Jesus, you don't have to yell, I'm not fucking deaf." Finn scowled at him, his eyes softening only as he noticed the visible discomfort in Wyatt's body language. He was hunched over slightly, his eyes closed and his manly hands gripping at his blond hair in a mix of pain and frustration. "Wy... Are you... Are you okay?" he asked as concern washed over his priorly disinterested expression.

"Y-yeah." Wyatt forced a smile though his eyes were glazed over from a mix of pain and muddled confusion. "Just a headache, it happens sometimes."

"What kind of headache?" Pried Finn, though he didn't know why; it wasn't really any of his business but somehow seeing Wyatt in physical pain, tears pooling in his eyes as he glanced up at him, squinting in discomfort form the sunlight.