[AN] It's my breakup spiral and I get to choose the coping method.

P.S. Cope, seeth, mald.

Pat was an everyman with a sincere love for his country, but he had a deep dark secret that not even his wife knew about, he was in love with his fellow congressman, Bob. His infatuation went beyond just looks, but also to Bob's demeanor. Pat admired his passion for government and remaining true to his platform. He was Pat's democrat counterpart and, in turn, his enemy in congress, but he couldn't shake the feelings he had for him. Pat knew of Bob's stance on gay marriage, which only encouraged him to admit his feelings. Not to mention their agreeing views on abortion rights. Pat simply drooled at the thought of oppressing women with Bob. Day after day the passion burned deep in his soul and all he could do was wait for the day that Bob might recognize his love. On nights when his family sat down for dinner, he fell silent, thinking about his colleague and what his life would be like, had he chosen a different path. 

On a day like any other, Pat noticed something different about Bob. Bob was sitting a lot closer than normal, almost touching Pat's shoulder. Bob remained at that distance for most of the time they were there, brushing each other every so often. This trend continued for several weeks, without explanation, but Pat came to feel that he really didn't mind.

Pat did have to wonder, though. What had changed? Had Bob simply shifted his chair without regard? Had the desks been shifted by the insurrection at the capital?

Or was there something more?

When the Senate was trapped by the Trumpie mob, had the time they spent cowering drawn them closer? Maybe, just maybe, Bob had taken solace in the warmth radiating from Pat. Maybe the insurrection had changed him, made him more vulnerable than he once was. On edge, with the only protection being Pat's touch.

But Pat had been thinking too hard about it, there were much more important matters at hand. The new budget must be made and the Senate was gonna make bank. Speaker Pelosi prattled on about military spending and salaries, occasionally taking time to breathe. The senate floor echoed with the sounds of shifting paper and scribbling pens. The rare snore could be heard from across the room, followed by snickers and whispers. Pelosi's droning almost began to burrow it's way into Pat's brain, leaving little tunnels of bureaucracy in it's wake. 

Suddenly Pat heard a whisper come from his left, he turned his head to see Bob leaning towards him.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen? Mine just ran out of ink," said the thick eyebrowed man.

Pat froze for a second, but quickly caught up, "Oh, for sure. You can have this one."

As Pat handed over the writing utensil, Bob overshot his reach and grazed Pat's hand. Bob didn't seem to notice, but Pat had a flurry of emotions the moment they touched. Pat's mind was flooded with imagery of the two holding hands under the senate desks, sharing secrets and tender moments. 

Pat was shocked back into attention by a gentle pat on the back from Bob.

"Thanks, Pat," Bob said in a sort of assuring way.

Pat nodded lazily in response, still reeling from the rush of feelings through his body. Pat had never really felt this way, not even with his wife. His head was filling with images of him and Bob together. They would gather flowers in a field; have quaint little picnics in the park; a romantic date at a fancy restaurant; just lying together in bed, holding one another. With every little scene playing in his head he sunk further into his daydreams. Nothing else in the world could be more right, he had to be with Bob. In his fervor, he vowed to no longer be passive, he decided to begin his quest for Bob's love.

Senators began to stand and move about as their meeting has come to an end. Pat, still fantasizing, absentmindedly organized his papers and pens.

Bob set Pat's pen on top of the stack of papers, "Thanks, Pat, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Pat grinned and he sparked an idea, "You're welcome, Bob. Say, why don't we have lunch tomorrow, I'd like to discuss some concerns our Pennsylvanian constituents have."

Bob gave a little smile, "Sure. I'm always a fan of bipartisan discussion about our shared constituents. Communication is best to solve shared problems."

Pat beamed, "How about we stop by that sub shop on the corner?"

"Sounds like a plan," Bob said with a wink, "See you tomorrow, buddy."

They parted ways and Pat felt a tension lift from him, finally he had his opportunity. He was going to get this man by any means. Any doubts Pat had were washed away by the playful wink shared between them, things were certainly looking up for their relationship.

Now all he had to do was think of some concerns from Pennsylvania. It's not like he payed attention to the memos painstakingly put together by his unpayed intern every week. Pat was simply too busy to read them. A crumbling infrastructure? Racial discrimination? Rampant poverty? Direct primaries?

No that couldn't be it.

Looser gun laws, that'll do it. Everyone knows all Pennsylvanian's LOVE their guns. The application process to acquire a conceal carry permit is far too bloated and inefficient. So, rather than improving communication in our government buildings and optimizing the process, we'll just hand that shit out for free! Everyone will finally have their god given right to gun a person down out of the slightest suspicion that they may have ill intent.

Previously this exclusive right was reserved for police officers, but now your 70 year old grandma can do it!

What a truly American idea, sprouted from a truly American brain. Bob would love it. That will be his plan, this certainly won't have major repercussions in the future.