By IceCreamEmpress, who wrote this back in 2004!
Kerry could still hear the crowds cheering as the limousine pulled away from the stadium. It was an incredible feeling—he had never inspired that level of passion before. And he owed it all to the man by his side.
He looked at the boyish face, still glowing from excitement…at the tousled hair he longed to run his fingers through. Everything came so easily to this man, this golden boy. He was charm personified. Kerry felt like a moth drawn to a flame.
“What are you thinking, John?” Edwards asked. Kerry was startled, and didn’t know what to say. I was thinking about what your mouth tasted like, he realized. Oh, God. How could he have let this happen?
“Let me show you what I was thinking,” Edwards went on, and Kerry realized that his running mate had slid across the broad leather seat until his muscular thigh was pressing deliciously, deliriously against his.
Kerry held his breath—what was happening?—as Edwards’s strong arm encircled his neck. He felt the warmth, the incredible softness of this kiss, this incredible kiss, like a revelation. Like the fireworks above the Mall on the Fourth of July.
As they broke apart, finally, for air, Kerry looked at the sculpted, perfect face so near to his own, this marvelous, magical man who was offering himself so tenderly.
“Bring it on,” Kerry said, in a husky whisper. “Bring it on.”