Kieran nodded. His hands were steady, but all he could think was don't be Jude. If it was Jude, the scrutiny would be too much — it would be too risky to keep on sleeping with each other. The knowledge that Jude wanted him, loved him, would be torturous when they were not allowed to touch each other.

But he hadn't opened the paper yet. And there were worse options — Picardy, Maxime, even Lupin or Crouch may end up being disastrous for werewolves. He unfolded the paper, and felt a wash of relief at the headlines. Kieran scanned the content of the article before speaking.

"You came in second," he said, awestruck. He offered Jude the paper. "It's Dempsey."

Thank Merlin.

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   Jude Wright

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set by MJ!

He was scanning Kieran’s face, intent and urgent and afraid, waiting for the tension to come in between his eyebrows or tug at the corner of his mouth – but if there was a change to his expression, Jude could only think it was surprise.

“I thought I came first,” Jude replied dryly, deadpan and kneejerk, thinking of last night – and not quite conscious of what he was saying in the moment, let alone what he had heard yet. Because the words filtered in shakily, as if amidst white noise: he digested them in separate syllables, starting with Dempsey. There was Dempsey, his name in bold.

He understood Kieran’s relief now, and gave a hefty exhale at it, a dazed look of overwhelming relief of his own. “Merlin. Dempsey. This is good,” Jude breathed: this was shockingly good, better than expected. Dempsey was progressive; he was different. People had voted in the right direction, then. Jude had hoped people would, but knowing was a different matter altogether; months’ worth of pent-up worry unravelling, a heady kind of satisfaction. Even if Dempsey accomplished nothing, or went back on all he had said – it was proof that people had supported suffrage, campaigned for change, wanted better.

Calm enough to concentrate now, Jude started on the small print of the front page, and startled at how soon his name appeared. He blinked. Kieran had been serious? Second? Jude read the whole thing through twice more: Dempsey, Minister; the full order of the candidates; the Wizengamot baffled by the closeness; Jude even more baffled by it, himself.

“And I came second?” He looked at Kieran, a disbelieving smile dawning on his face. He was struck by a wild urge to laugh. The country had lost its mind, then.

(Jude could believe – one thing or the other, he thought. That last night had happened with Kieran. That this morning’s front page was real. It was almost too much to think that both could be true.)

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   August Echelon-Arnost

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Kieran's hands were shaking where he was holding the paper. And maybe it was because of the lack of drink, but he rather thought it was sheer disbelief — that something good had happened for Britain, that people outside of their little gang of friends had voted for Jude, that he was going to spend the next few years more hopeful than he was afraid. Dempsey would be fine. Maybe he would get suffrage, maybe (more likely) he would not — but he wasn't evil, and Kieran had thought that so many of the other candidates that were evil.

"First last night," Kieran said; his eyes were crinkled up in the corners. "But second in the election, yes."

He reached out to grab Jude's hand, and squeezed it. Beyond the results, Dempsey winning, Jude in second — their lives would not have to change too significantly for Kieran to have him, to have this.

  

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set by MJ!

Kieran had clasped his hand. Jude grinned at him, indulgent. We did it, Jude almost wanted to say, no matter that he had just lost the election. I can’t believe it. More people had voted for him than for the most conservative candidates. There was an almost tangible appetite for progress. This was more than a win to them; he hadn’t expected half as much.

“Thank you,” Jude said suddenly, still beaming. He loosed their hands to take Kieran’s face between his instead, careening across the bed to kiss him. It was the elation of it or the sheer delirious gratitude, a resurgence of everything he had felt last night and this morning. (It was a little bit just because he could.) But, in all earnest – he pulled back a fraction to look at him – “Thank you for letting me do this.” Anything for you, Kieran might have said, but Jude knew what he had risked by it. And he couldn’t have done it without him.

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The force of Jude's gratitude was almost too much for Kieran to take; he ducked his head a little, sheepish. He did not know what to say. He leaned forward to press a kiss to Jude's mouth.

  

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set by MJ!