Chapter Text
Bernie Sanders had taken a lot of calculated risks in his life. Hell, even running for president as an openly socialist and radically left candidate was a calculated risk. He had always stood up for what he believed in, even when it made himself vulnerable to hate crimes and state violence. And boy did he believe that Joe Biden was a pain in the ass.
Aside from being a total creep and low-key enabling fascists, Biden also – if that was even still possible at this point, after the disaster of an election in 2016 – had a tendency to make Democrats look worse than they were. Bernie wouldn’t just stand on the sidelines as another centrist let Trump win another election, and if that meant he had to take a very calculated risk, then it was so. Despite what Republicans thought, socialist were good at math, too.
Bernie Sanders would never admit working together with Donald Trump, of course. What a ridiculous idea; they despised each other. The enemy of my enemy is my friend didn’t apply to fascists. But Bill Clinton got impeached for lying about a blow-job, and Trump was already looking for dirt on Biden. What better way to eliminate a political candidate, at least a Democratic political candidate, than a good old-fashioned sex scandal. Republicans loved those. And if #CreepyUncleJoe hadn’t worked before, maybe he could at least get #GayUncleJoe to trend. His whole campaign was to appeal to centrists and liberals. What was so wrong with showing him how his target audience liked gay people?
Not that Joe Biden was gay, of course. A perfectly good, straight Christian centrist, except for the little fact that he liked to suck Barack Obama’s cock.
“Maybe we can help each other.” Bernie Sanders had said, and of course he had lied. He would never help Donald Trump. He was just a tool to eliminate Joe Biden, and the scapegoat for when this whole disaster was over.
Trump had been rightly suspicious. “Help each other?” He had asked. “You want to help me?”
“No.” Bernie had said, because pretending like he did would seem a bit far-fetched even for someone like Trump. “But I want you to help me, and since my end goal will ultimately further your agenda more than mine, why not involve you in it?”
Trump had squinted, obvious that he hadn’t understood. But he would never admit that anyway, so it was basically settled. Except for Trump’s tendency to unnecessarily complicate simple things. “And what is your end goal, exactly?”
“Look.” Bernie had said, sighing. “You don’t like Joe Biden? That’s great. I don’t like Joe Biden either. So, I will help you eliminate him.”
“And you need me for that, because you could never let the public know that you would do that to someone on the same team as you.” Trump had said, because sometimes, he wasn’t as dumb as everyone else thought. “So why should I pass up the opportunity to eliminate you both with that knowledge?”
Bernie had chuckled, because he had planned for that very threat. “You can try, of course. But I’m not like Biden, my target audience is a little different than his. The people voting for me would think it rather unlikely that I sold information regarding Joe Biden’s sex life to a fascist. Even if they could believe I had such information in the first place.”
Trump’s eyes had widened at the prospect of being handed material like that, and of course he had taken the bait. “Well, do you have such information?”
Bernie had smiled, because he had known at this moment that he had a deal. Republicans, they were never able to resist a good old Democratic sex scandal. “That depends.” He had said with a smile, and despite his disgust, he had offered Trump his hand.
Trump had taken it.
Surprisingly, Trump waited for the next press conference to break it to the public. Bernie had expected it in his next tweet. The corrupt media continues to attack me but completely glosses over the fact that Joe Biden is gay. Fake news! Or something like that, anyway.
Not that Joe Biden was gay, of course, but it was close to a miracle that Trump acknowledged that fact. He did complain about fake news, and about the media being too focused on his corruption. And casually, like it was nothing, he said: “Besides, a little birdie told me that Biden has more to hide than hundreds of sexual assault allegations. Apparently, he has also had an affair with Barack Obama.” And that was that.
Of course he got ridiculed, that had been part of the plan, and part of why Bernie had involved him instead of any other Republican. Donald Trump could afford being ridiculed, and accused of being a liar and a homophobe just trying to make his political opponents look bad. Which he was. But on the few occasions when Donald Trump told the truth, he made sure that everyone knew it was the truth. Even if it hadn’t been the truth, it was trending on twitter only minutes after anyway. And neither Barack Obama nor Joe Biden tweeted anything that day.
“So.” Trump said, sipping on his water. “Do you want to tell me how you knew about Biden’s little affair?”
Bernie smiled. He wouldn’t be baited that easily into giving a fascist valuable information. He wasn’t as easily manipulated. “A little birdie told me, you could say.” He said instead, using Trump’s words.
Trump leaned back and just looked at his opponent for a few seconds, reading his expression and deciding on what to do next. “Are we going to get something similar to the Starr report?” He asked.
Of course, Bernie hadn’t been the only one to draw parallels. It would have been too much to say that he was surprised that Trump brought it up, or that he knew what was in the Starr report, anyway. “Neither Biden nor Obama have lied about it in a court of law yet.” He said. “I’m pretty sure they’re meeting up with their lawyers as we speak.”
“Hasn’t helped Bill Clinton much.” Trump commented. For him, it seemed to be a done deal. For the sake of not showing weakness, Bernie pretended to agree with him on that.
“Have you ever read the Starr report?” He asked instead, trying to change the topic. To be quite honest, he had been wanting to get out of this situation for five minutes now, and he hadn’t even been in this situation for five minutes. Trying to have a normal conversation with Donald Trump was beyond exhausting.
Trump dismissed his question with a shrug. “You know.” He said. “A few days ago, if I had had to bet money on either Biden or you being a faggot, I’m pretty sure my bet would’ve been on you.”
Bernie looked at him, then closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them again, Trump was grinning at him. A planned provocation, as it seemed. “You know.” Bernie said, trying out the same tone Trump had used. “This is why no one likes you.” He got up, ready to leave. He had a more than valid excuse now, after all. He would be an idiot if he didn’t use it.
“Because in some hypothetical scenario, I bet money on you sucking dick?” Trump asked.
Bernie gave him a sarcastic smile. Two could play this game. “Because you’re a fucking fascist.” And with that, he stormed out.
Looking back at it, sure, he shouldn’t have let this pathetic idiot make him angry. On the other hand, he just hoped he never had to have a private conversation with him again, not regarding this topic, at least. He had realized it gave Trump protection to say whatever he wanted, of course. He wasn’t dumb. They both knew that Bernie couldn’t use anything in these conversations publicly against Trump, or else he would have to admit to using a fascist to out a fellow Democrat as gay to the public. Not that Joe Biden was gay, of course.
Bernie Sanders hadn’t been there for this part, but Trump promised that it had happened this way, which, of course, meant absolutely nothing. A promise from Donald Trump wasn’t a promise at all, and even every breath he took should be taken with a grain of salt. That didn’t mean Bernie wasn’t curious, though, so he reluctantly agreed to have Trump tell him the surely completely exaggerated story.
Allegedly, Obama and Biden had both stood on his doorstep earlier today, practically begging to talk to him. They had both been visibly shaken, and clearly angry.
“What can I do for you two gentlemen?” Trump had asked.
Obama and Biden had entered without being invited. “How did you know about our affair?” Obama had asked, while Biden had stared at Trump like he wanted to kill him.
“I’m afraid that’s confidential.” Trump had answered. “But do I understand it correctly that you two admit to having had an affair?”
“I wouldn’t call it an affair.” Obama had said. “We’ve been in love for a while.”
At this point, Biden shed a tear, and it was also at this point that Bernie called the whole story bullshit. “Have you even met Obama and Biden today?” He asked, trying his best to hide his annoyance.
Trump scoffed. “I have.” He said. “And even if it may not have happened exactly like that, I know it felt to them like that.”
“Sure.” Bernie said. He didn’t really have time, or more accurate, patience for this shit.
“They asked me how I knew about their affair, and I told them it’s confidential. And they tried to pressure me and shit, and I asked them whether they would admit to their affair or follow in Clinton’s footsteps.”
Bernie raised his eyebrows. “And?” He asked. God, he hated that Trump made him do this.
Trump shrugged. “They left without answering. Pretty rude, if you ask me.”
Bernie really wanted to make a sarcastic comment about Trump using homophobic slurs and calling other people rude at the same time, but he stopped himself. If he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, he couldn’t let himself be provoked. “So, why did you deem this important enough to actually call me? Did you just want to brag with your version of events?”
Trump chuckled at that. “I just wanted to let you know they’re investigating where I got my information from.”
Bernie nodded. “Well, thanks.” He said, not really bothering to pretend like he meant it. Then, for good measure, he added: “Your phone is unsafe. So, you know, don’t ever call me again. Don’t wanna make it too easy for them.”
Not that he wouldn’t have asked Trump to never call him again even if his phone was safe.
Bernie hung up. But he couldn’t help trying to imagine Obama and Biden desperate enough to try and get information from Donald Trump. Maybe Trump had been right in thinking it was a done deal already. Even with everyone involved keeping silent for now, the supposed fake news were still busy coming up with theories of what happened between Obama and Biden, and how Trump could possibly have known, speculating about what would happen next. A nice, old-fashioned Democratic sex scandal for the media to latch onto and suck dry for clickbait news headlines.