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Schlatt didn’t fuck him until after the election. Not many people know that. He talked a big game about Quackity’s ass, but that’s all it ever was. Just talk. More bullshit from a guy who was always full of it.
They were drunk by the time they got back to the White House. Schlatt as a matter of course, and Quackity to obliterate the memory of the day. In the morning, he’ll need to be reminded that Tommy and Wilbur are gone.
In the morning, he’s sticky and sore and naked in a strange bed, the sheets cool beside him.