Nick was used to being the last to arrive at the Quad meeting. He'd had hopes, back in the heady early days, that when the Deputy Prime Minister's office and staff were - finally - fully organised and functioning as a genuine organ of government - well, he'd actually thought that his days might become a little less frantic, his hours a little less long, and that he might - the thought seemed impossibly naive now - he might even, occasionally, get to a meeting on time.
But it hadn't turned out that way, and as he hastened down the corridor to No. 10 with long, ground-eating strides, Nick wondered resignedly why he'd ever had such expectations. It was, he decided, the Liberal in him - eternal optimism unaffected by experience... The always-punctual Osborne would be irritated, no doubt Cameron would crack some joke about LibDems forever playing catch-up, and Danny would do his best to cover for his fellow LibDem without quite managing to hide his annoyance.
Nick gave a mental shrug as he reached the door to the Quad meeting room. Tough. Useful and productive as these meetings were, he had recently noticed that the LibDem negotiating position seemed to do better if the Tory side was suffering from slightly ruffled feathers when they started their discussions. Otherwise David simply charmed his way past Nick, Danny got blindsided by Osborne's undeniable personal warmth, and -
His thoughts were abruptly derailed when he opened the door to find only the Treasury duo sitting at the round table, piles of folders in front of them and mugs of tea and coffee to hand while they chatted easily. No sign of the third member of their little group.
“Where's the PM?”
Osborne glanced round as Nick carefully closed the door on any aides or PPS's who might be lingering in the corridor and settled down in his seat, placing his own mug of milky tea on the coaster placed ready for it.
“Only five minutes late this time, Clegg?” he commented. “That'll confuse David, he's taken to assuming that you'll always arrive at least twenty minutes after everyone else. I know we say that you LibDems march to a different drum, but really -!”
Nick simply grinned as he pulled his red folder out of his briefcase and set it in front of him. “Bored, Osborne? Surely you've plenty of Treasury business to talk over with Danny while you wait? At least, that's what you keep telling everyone!
“Seriously, though,” he looked round at his colleagues, “Didn't Cameron text you? It's really not like him to be -”
The door behind Nick burst open and a distinctly flustered Prime Minister charged into the room. “Sorry, sorry, I know, I'm most terribly late!”
Dumping his briefcase by his chair Cameron turned back to the corridor and they heard him saying to someone out of sight, “Could somebody please get me a good strong cup of coffee? Just a smidgeon of milk, no sugar? Thank you...”
Collapsing into his chair with a very obvious sigh of relief, Cameron pushed one hand through his hair, irritatedly rearranging the one vagrant lock which persisted in falling across his forehead before looking apologetically around the table.
“I am, genuinely, most terribly sorry,” he repeated. Nick had never seen him looking so hot and bothered. Then David did something which showed his disorganised state of mind more clearly than anything else could have - he absentmindedly unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves back, apologising profusely all the while. “I slept through my alarm this morning, and Sam's away so I couldn't even rely on her to kick me out of bed at my usual time. Nancy had a bad dream last night...” He shook his head, finally beginning to relax, and Danny chuckled.
“Kids never pick a convenient time to keep you awake all night, do they?” he said cheerfully, in his soft Scottish tones, and Nick nodded emphatic agreement.
“If any of the boys are going to cause night-time ructions at my house, you can almost guarantee that it'll be when Miriam's away and I've a particularly important meeting early the next morning,” he commented, as an aide arrived with the Prime Minister's coffee.
The young man left, closing the door softly behind him, and the Chancellor said firmly, “Well, now that we're all - finally - here, shall we get down to business...?”
It was most peculiar, Nick decided a little later. After the brief flurry of excitement engendered by half of the Quad turning up late things had, outwardly at least, returned to normal with reassuring rapidity. Topics were being raised and discussed, differences were being highlighted and either reconciled or noted for further discussion with their respective teams before being brought back to another Quad meeting... but all the same Nick was conscious of an undercurrent of - excitement, tension, something around the table.
Or perhaps it was just him. Danny and Osborne seemed relaxed enough, joking with each other and Cameron in their usual manner, and David... Nick swallowed as he found his eyes following David's slender, long-fingered hands as they gestured emphatically, chopping the air as he made a vigorous point about one of the bullet points listed on the Treasury notepaper in front of him. He really does have the most beautiful hands -
Shocked, Nick cut off the thought before it could go any further, but he couldn't wipe it from hs brain altogether. Nor could he deny the path that his eyes were taking as he began to breathe a little faster, along those long, slim fingers with their carefully-manicured nails, across the smoothly-tanned skin and up to those strong, yet slender, oddly vulnerable-looking wrists, usually hidden under crisp white Egyptian cotton, but this morning, uniquely, revealed and emphasised by neatly-rolled-back shirt sleeves...
He felt hot. Why did he feel so hot? Unconsciously Nick tugged at his collar, loosening his tie, his eyes following every gesture of the man sitting so close to him. His cheekbones felt warm... absently he reached for his mug and gulped a mouthful of lukewarm, cooling tea, knowing that he was blushing.
“... don't you agree, Nick? Nick? Earth calling Clegg, are you in there?”
“Er... what?”
Abruptly Nick was jolted back to attention by Cameron's voice. He jerked his gaze away from those oddly-fascinating wrists and up to meet David's enquiring, dark-blue gaze, biting his lip as he frantically scrabbled for something to say.
“I-I, I... erm, that is, I...” He swallowed hard and consciously made himself relax. This was ridiculous. Pull yourself together, Nikje boy! You're a politician - act like one!
“I, I'm sorry, Prime Minister, I, er... I lost... concentration for a moment. Please, um... Please continue?”
Cameron studied him a moment or two longer, until Nick, behind his carefully-affable mask, was beginning to panic - then David seemed to relent. Looking down at his briefing papers he said, “Look, George, I know the OBR said that this model was too inexact, but really....”
Leaning back in his chair, Nick let out a long, silent breath of relief - then tensed as David slanted a quick glance his way, only to look hastily back at George when he saw that Nick had seen that brief flick of the eyes.
David had noticed.
Quite what David had noticed, Nick wasn't willing to admit to himself - not yet. But his eyes were drawn, once again, to those hands, and those elegant wrists... And then - a sudden mental image behind his eyelids... Those wrists bound tightly in the very blue silk tie currently gracing their owner's neck while that same owner, flushed and sweating and desperate, begged to be bent over his own desk and fucked into the middle of next week. .. - No! Where had that come from?
Nick very nearly moaned out loud, biting his lip fiercely to prevent the sound escaping. What was he thinking!
Was he insane?
Deliberately, carefully, pretending an outward calm which was the exact opposite of the way he was truly feeling, Nick leaned back in his chair, making himself breathe slowly and calmly, working on suppressing the excitement thrumming along his nerves as that - undeniably attractive - mental picture persisted in thrusting itself into his mind's eye yet again. Cameron - David - red-faced, desperately aroused, open and writhing and needy, completely at Nick's mercy...
... Nick's mouth watered and he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. His cock twitched and began to fill, and he shifted uncomfortably, unable to deny it any longer. Ah, Godverdomme!
It was definitely no good denying it any longer.
The thoroughly Liberal Deputy Prime Minister had the hots for his boss. His very, very Tory boss...
Or at least, his boss's wrists.
And hands.
And eyes, and hair, and... All right, dammit! Nick told himself, trying to ignore the warmth glowing within him as he watched David bantering easily back and forth with George and Danny. You fancy the fuck out of David bloody Cameron! And no matter how much you've tried not to think about it, you know very well that you have done for - for ages! It's high time you admitted it to yourself, and then maybe you can forget about it and get on with business. Like - he glanced down at the document in front of him and saw with a distinct sense of relief that the next item on the agenda was going to require his complete concentration if Cameron and Osborne weren't going to run rings around Danny and himself, and with a carefully-unacknowledged sigh of relief Nick settled to the familiar task of fighting the LibDem corner against two wily and experienced Tory negotiators.
The Quad meeting continued on its routine way, and gradually Nick found himself returning to a more even keel while carefully not thinking about what had inspired his loss of composure in the first place. He knew he was avoiding Dave's gaze, even though the man was trying to catch his eye - No. I'm not, not going there! Mustn't succumb - not again -
And then, finally, the Chancellor wound up the meeting. Nick decided to accompany Danny for part of the way back to the Treasury, to give the two LibDems a chance to discuss one or two Party matters - but even as he turned towards his friend another voice said,
“Ah, Clegg? Would you come back to my office with me, please? I would value your input on something Heywood's put to me.”
Nick opened his mouth, shut it, shrugged a little helplessly at Danny and turned to the man waiting by the door.
“Of course, Prime Minister,” he said formally, his stomach plummeting into his shoes. uh-oh. David never calls me to his office after a Quad meeting, our schedules are far too crowded. He's seen something, or guessed something... what am I going to tell him? What do I say?
Ferociously biting his lip, Nick followed Dave silently along the corridor, up the stairs, through the lobby and the outer office to the well-appointed - if somewhat cosy - office of the Prime Minister.
Where David Cameron closed the door, flipped the lock and turned to face the man standing so uncertainly in the centre of the room. His large blue eyes, dark and intent, held an expression that Nick had never seen before and which set his heart thumping almost painfully in his chest.
Wetting lips which had somehow, unaccountably, gone dry, Nick said, "You... er... you wanted to, to discuss something with me, Prime Minister?"
Slowly Dave walked towards him, his eyes fixed on Nick's face. "Well well well," he said, a tinge of amusement softening the edges of his cut-glass Etonian drawl. "Who would have believed it? The prim and proper, politically correct Deputy Prime Minister swings both ways... Or maybe you're just gay for me? Is that it, Clegg?"
Nick flushed, hunting desperately for the right thing to stay, wondering confusedly how he was going to get out of this one. Words scurrying around his head like rats in a trap, but nothing that made any kind of sense. How to explain that yes, he was bisexual, and yes, he was happily married - but that yes, he ... wanted... David 'One Nation Tory' Cameron? "I -"
Dave was standing right in front of him now, barely inches away, and through his confusion and embarrassment Nick suddenly realised that there was no anger or mockery in the gaze meeting his. But there was heat, of a similar kind to the warmth rising in him...
Suddenly the words were there.
"Yes," Nick said quietly. "I think - I've wanted you for a long time, David. But I've only just admitted it..."
David smiled slowly, the wide warm smile which had always made Nick's heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest even when he'd refused to acknowledge that he had any such reaction. "Finally!" he murmured, placing one hand against Nick's cheek and carding his fingers through the hair above Nick's temple, "I've been waiting for so - bloody - long..."
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips softly against Nick's until with a murmur of pleasure Nick let his own lips part and felt David's mouth against his. Shifting forward, Nick's arms found their way around the man kissing him so gently, palms sliding over smooth cotton, one hand slipping up to tangle itself in soft hair, the other moving down to find the tight muscular curves of David's arse and curling round it to pull their two bodies together.
Feeling Dave's hum of approval echo through his own chest, and the wonderful sensation of ardent hands caressing his back before hooking round his waist and pulling him even closer - close enough to feel the heat of the other man's groin, its growing hardness a mirror image of his own - Nick pushed Dave back until he was up against the impressive polished mahogany of the Prime Ministerial desk with Nick plastered against him, legs entangled, bodies pressed close together and breath mingling as they kissed and kissed again, passion building to near overwhelming need.
Dave whimpered deep in his throat, lips and tongue devouring Nick's - then suddenly he relaxed, his body easing under Nick's touch as he lifted his chin, allowing Nick's tongue to suck and lick at the close-shaved skin of his vulnerable throat. Nick's mouth moved across Dave's face, feeling the slight roughness under his lips and tongue, knowing his teeth were grazing Dave's skin and then nipping at the sensitive spot below the ear... He sucked at the juncture of neck and shoulder as Dave moaned again, louder, dropping his head back and whispering,
"God, yes - please -"
The sound of the panting, frantic, aroused voice abruptly returned Nick to reality. Fighting for control, he somehow managed to lift his head to gasp,
"Dave, we can't - we haven't time, not now -"
"- What?"
Blinking, Dave opened eyes that were all pupil to stare at the man holding him. Seeing Dave flushed, dazed, almost stupid with desire and arousal, Nick bit back a groan of his own and made himself remember where they were. To be sure, there were no CCTV cameras inside the office, but the lobby just outside the door was crowded and busy with SpAds and private secretaries, not to mention aides, activists and ministers, and any one of them could come knocking on the door at any moment - and then start to wonder why it was locked...
"Dave," Nick repeated gently, desperately fighting his own arousal and cursing his caution, "We, we daren't risk this. Not here, not now..."
Taking a deep breath, Dave was visibly grabbing for the rags of his own self-control, and in an attempt to make it a little easier for him Nick forced himself to stand back, dropping his arms and putting some distance between them.
Still leaning against his desk, Dave watched this retreat with a wry expression. "Can't wait to scurry back into your box, Clegg, can you. Well. You are right, of course - but is that really why you're being so quick to back off?"
Nick set his teeth, his frustration and anger at the need for discretion fraying at the edges of his self-control. "If we weren't standing in the PM's office at No 10 Downing St, you'd soon find out how eager I am!" he snapped. "Believe you me, Cameron, if we weren't where we are and who we are, you'd be bent over that desk right now... And that tie," he added, hearing the sudden huskiness in his voice and not caring, "Would not be round your neck, either! It would be tied somewhere far more useful..."
Dave's eyes darkened again, and he breathed in sharply, his eyes holding Nick's. He wet his lips. "I... um... I have some free time this afternoon," he offered tentatively. "With Sam away..."
Nick raised an eyebrow at the mention of Sam, and Dave smiled a little, visibly regaining his composure. "Don't worry, you're not the 'other woman'. Sam and I understand one another."
"I'm glad to hear it," Nick responded drily. "Miriam's a politician's wife - and I never ask what she gets up to at all those business conferences she jets off to. We decided long ago that what happened away from home - stayed away from home..."
"And is this 'Away from home'?"
Nick's face heated at Dave's soft question. "Oh yes," he breathed, and the two of them grinned idiotically at each other for a full ten seconds before a tentative tap on the door roused them.
"Er... Prime Minister? Are you free? The Education Secretary is waiting."
Dave groaned. "Bugger it. Michael's always so damn punctual - it's infuriating!" he raised his voice. "Five minutes, Libby. Get Mr Gove a coffee and tell him I'll see him very shortly, would you?"
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Um... This afternoon? Here, after five?"
Nick considered. After a moment's contemplation of David's hopeful, uncertain face, he nodded agreement and watched that wonderful, warm smile reappear. Then, unable to quite suppress a sigh of regret at his own common sense - or cowardice - Nick bent to retrieve his briefcase. Even before he'd fully straightened up again he heard Dave clear his throat, and looked his own enquiry.
"Did you, um, mean what you said? About - you know," Dave indicated his desk.
He was blushing again, Nick noted with interest, and bit his lip to stop himself smiling at the suppressed eagerness of the question. Sudden anticipation tingled through him as he realised exactly how the afternoon's encounter was going to go.
"Of course I did," he stated firmly. He stepped closer, into Dave's personal space, holding the other's eyes and watching his breathing elevate, the flush growing quickly under that smooth, soft skin. "I also meant what I said about your tie... And what I was going to use it for.
"Of course, if you'd rather, there are plenty of other things I can use as, as... restraints," he added, keeping his voice as firm and authoritative as he could in the face of Dave's clear and growing excitement, and was rewarded with a low moan.
"You sod, Clegg, I'm never going to be able to concentrate now!"
"Anticipation is half the fun," was the retort as Nick finally headed for the door. Behind him he heard Dave snort agreement, then chuckle to himself. He glanced round.
"What?"
"Just thinking," was the response. "I've been sending out signals for months! I'd virtually decided that you were totally and irredeemably straight, in spite of all those come-hither looks you kept giving me. If only I'd known the way to get you to bite, I'd have been attending Quad meetings in my shirt-sleeves long ago!"
Nick slanted a smile over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. "All the best things come to those who wait," he said. "As you"ll find out this afternoon."
Then he stuck his head back round the door before he disappeared back to his own office. "Oh, and David?
"Bring a spare tie!"