From Part One: ‘Why does he hate me?’ ‘Who?’ ‘Onorato.’ ‘He doesn’t hate you Sam. He just tried to use you to get what he wants. Well, what his boss wants.’ ‘Does Toby hate me?’ ‘No Sammy, Toby doesn’t hate you.’ Sam looks devastated. Hair all mussed, beer drips on his white shirt, his tie coming undone. And hurt in his eyes. Blue eyes. I never noticed Sam’s eyes before. Note to self: Josh is a colleague, nothing more. Seeing me naked in the shower is not going to make him jump me in the men’s room. I mean, he’s dated plenty of women. He just happens to have a nice smile. From Part Two: ‘Sam, what the Hell is this about?’ ‘You always do this!’ ‘Do what?’ Sam’s as angry as I’ve ever seen him. ‘Take over. I do all the work, then you take all the credit. Or avoid any of the blame.’ ‘When did that ever happen?’ ‘Onorato? It was your thing, and he used me. And he insulted me. And you knew that he was gonna use Laurie, but did you tell me? No! You let me set myself up, then you and Toby laughed at me.’ From Part Three: ‘I stopped seeing Mallory because she couldn’t cope with the idea that I was attracted to other people.’ ‘You’re…’ Sam smiles sadly. ‘I’m not sure what I am Josh. I mean, the girls in the coffee shop do it for me, but so does the guy in the UPS ad.’ ‘You’re bisexual.’ ‘I guess that’s as good as any other word.’ ‘Josh, have you really never, ever, seen a man and not even wondered what it would be like..?’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘Any time you wanna find out, just let me know.’ ‘We work together.’ ‘We’re not the first gays in the White House.’ ‘I’m not gay.’ ‘Neither am I.’ From Part Four: ‘Josh!’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Your cell’s ringing.’ ‘Tell whoever it is I’ll call ‘em back. I gotta fix this tap.’ ‘Josh Lyman’s phone.’ ‘Who the Hell is this?’ ‘Leo?’ ‘Sam, what the Hell are you doing with Josh’s cell?’ ‘He’s fixing a tap and I’m using his power.’ ‘You two made up then, huh?’ ‘Leo?’ ‘You and Sam. He was round at your place.’ ‘Yeah. He had no power and I had…’ ‘A dripping tap. Yeah, I heard. Now, did you read the report?’ ’Josh, nothing is going to happen between us unless we both want it, okay. You’re safe in my apartment.’ ‘What?!’ ‘Forget it. D’you wanna leave your stuff here or not?’ ‘I’m not gay.’ ‘I know, Josh. You told me.’ ‘So why do you assume I’d wanna sleep with you?’ ‘I don’t.’ From Part Five: ‘Okay, let’s do it.’ ‘Er, I’m…’ ‘Josh, go to bed.’ ‘Josh, wake up! Josh, come on. Josh!’ ‘Josh, you were having a nightmare.’ I had to touch him. I couldn’t have just woken him then walked away. Oh no. I had to unwrap him from the bedclothes. Then tidy his hair. ‘Hey, Sam? The pipes are fixed in my apartment.’ ‘So you’ll be moving out?’ ‘Er, yeah. Thanks.’ ‘Any time.’ From part Six: ‘Josh, this is a big step. For both of us.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Josh, either I walk out of here now, or tomorrow morning you make an appointment for an HIV test.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘I’m starting a relationship.’ ‘Okay. You know your partner will need to be tested too.’ ‘He has been.’ ‘And his test was negative?’ ‘Yeah.’. ‘Yours is too.’ Sexual Politics - the conclusion - All mouth and no trousers Sam pauses as he reaches for the wine bottle. ‘You get your result?’ ‘Yeah. Negative.’ He smiles, obviously relieved. ‘I came prepared, just in case.’ Looking at him, I pull a face. ‘Boy Scout.‘ ‘Erm, Josh, I don’t think they like Boy Scouts to do this.’ We both laugh at the terrible joke and somehow the tension is broken. ‘Josh, in the future, if you have something important which concerns us like that, you share it with me, okay? I shouldn’t have to ask.’ ‘Okay.’ There are a lot of things to remember. Hell, I’m a fast learner. ‘I’ll let you off this one time. Next time…’ His hand is on my thigh. I can feel the warmth of his palm and the slight pressure of his grip on my pants. ‘Josh, you gotta relax. Have some more wine.’ ‘You trying to get me drunk?’ ‘I’m trying to get you to relax.’ As he’s speaking, his fingers have undone a couple of my shirt buttons, and his hand is stroking my chest. He reaches down and sets his wine glass on the table. Now with both hands free, he can unhook my tie. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, if anything, so I do nothing. In fact, I’m so nervous, I don’t think I actually could do anything. His fingers rub my nipple and I’m shocked at how quickly I feel myself respond. It doesn’t take much pressure in the centre of my chest for me to lie back, my head resting on the arm of the couch. Sam’s mouth moves towards mine, and his first kiss is gentle, hardly moving my lips at all. I can feel myself responding to his mouth and hands, and it’s like someone set off a firework inside me, and I can see the bright pinpoints of light and feel the heat from the sparks. He is straddling me now, his knees digging into my thighs as his mouth moves down, his lips brushing my neck. It won’t be until I look in the mirror in the morning that I will see the result of the non-pain I feel as his teeth graze my collar bone. His lips close on my nipples, first one, his fingers scissoring the other to hardness, then the other, his fingers struggling to grip the slick flesh, damp with his saliva. Too soon, his mouth and hands are moving downwards As they urgently work on the button and zip of my pants, he pulls me to my feet. ‘Let’s go to bed.’ I’m half-tempted to shake off his hand. Not because I don’t want to do this. Because if I hold his much longer, he’ll feel how much I’m shaking. I’m not a sporting person. Aside from the occasional jogging meeting with Hoynes, I actually play very little sport. Well, none. I work out at a gym, but with the long hours we work, its usually either really early or really late, so it’s usually a solitary activity. And there are rarely any other people around when I shower, either at the gym or at home. So Sam is actually the first man I’ve seen naked for…a long time. Or he will be, when he takes his clothes off. I have a head start, in that I’m only wearing my boxers. My shirt and pants are lying in a heap on the sitting room floor. While I wait as Sam undresses, I wonder what he will look like. I mean, Sam and I aren’t that far apart in age. And, as far as I know, he doesn’t play any sports either. I was wrong, it’s bad. Really, really bad. How does he look like that? Perhaps if I keep my…okay, we’re going for totally naked. Right… ‘It’s okay Josh. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just relax.’ Relax. Yeah right. With a naked Sam Seaborn straddling me. Relax. I try breathing deeply but his thighs are constricting my ribcage and I can’t. Kissing, okay. Touching, okay. But this is different. I’ve done the first two. Well, I’ve done this too, but not with Sam. Until a few minutes ago. Who is way too confident. I thought we’d both be nervous. But Sam is calm, confident, relaxed. And I’m still shaking so much I’m surprised my teeth aren’t chattering. Apparently aware of my slight uncertainty, Sam is smiling. ‘Josh, I mean it. You’re perfectly safe. I know what I’m doing, okay?’ I nod. It’s all I’m capable of. If I say anything, he’s going to notice my nervousness. Like he hasn’t already. As he leans down, I can feel my heart beating in my chest. Oh please don’t let me have a heart attack. ‘White House Deputy Chief of Staff dies in White House Deputy Communications Director’s bed’. Full story pages 1, 2, and 3… It would make Marilyn Monroe’s death look like a non-event. ‘Trust me?’ ‘Yeah.’ As his mouth closes on my willing flesh, I realise there are probably worse ways to go. Many, many worse ways…And as I climax, the earlier lone firework joining its friends in a huge display, I realise I don’t care if I die right now. Actually, I think I do. I’d like to do this at least one more time before I go. And listening to Sam’s scream, I’m guessing he feels more or less the same. ‘How was it…for you?’ Sam’s voice is a little breathless. Well, he did do all the work. ‘Why…did we wait…so long?’ I am more than a little breathless. He smiles, staring down at me. ‘Because you’re Josh.’ I can’t help it. I know it’s pathetic. I’m crying. And Sam’s kissing away my tears. ‘Shhh. It’s okay. Did I hurt you?’ He’s suddenly concerned, frowning as he watches me. I shake my head. ‘No, it’s just…’ He smiles, his fingers brushing my cheek. ‘I know.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘My pleasure.’ He climbs off me and I watch as he fetches a washcloth from the bathroom and rubs my legs. I didn’t even notice I needed cleaning off. When he comes back, he lies next to me, our fingers entwining ‘I heard it hurts the first time.’ ‘It can do.’ Suddenly, he realises what I mean. ‘Josh, I don’t think we wanna rush anything. We’ve got forever. Let’s go slow, okay?’ Rolling so I’m lying on my side, facing him, I wait until he’s looking at me. ‘Okay.’ ‘Trust me, we’re gonna do this. But we’ve got a long day tomorrow, with FEC and everything. We need to be ready.’ ‘Okay.’ The following day… If I thought I would be less nervous this evening, just because Sam and I have already done it once, I’m wrong. This is worse. We’ve just spent some time discussing exactly what we’re going to do. Which in my case is, apparently, very little. But Sam at least knows what it’s like. I have only locker-room gossip and a couple of bad late-night TV movies to work from, and I’m nervous as Hell. But, at least I am prepared. I drove quite some distance from the White House to buy what I guessed we’d need for tonight. And I don’t think the pharmacist recognised me. And if he did, that he would get much money from a story that Joshua Lyman, White House Deputy Chief of Staff bought KY jelly. The ‘colon cleansing kit’ might make the guy a few bucks though. If a reporter could find someone to interpret his language, whatever it was. If I hadn’t seen the amount on the cash register, I might have been ripped off and never known it. I had no idea of the likely cost of a tube of lubricant and a thing that looks like an icing bag, but with a longer nozzle. I do now. I never imagined I’d standing in my boxers, Sam’s hands opening my shirt buttons, the strains of George Michael’s new album just making it into the bathroom with us. I decide not to point out that if we don’t close the door, the condensation from the shower will make the couch damp. I don’t think we’ll be spending a lot of time on it this evening, and it will have dried out by the morning. The sound of the water drowns out the music, but not the sounds we both make as Sam joins me under the scaldingly-hot water. At least this time, Sam doesn’t have to go to the effort of getting a washcloth. But I’ve realised that Sam is as good with his hands as he is with his mouth. I’m showering with a multi-talented man. Who writes fairly good speeches too. Turning the water off, reaching for the towels, Sam jerks his head towards the bedroom. ‘You wanna?’ Honestly? No. But as Sam has no idea of the amount of preparation that I went through before he came, I guess I shouldn’t waste the effort. So I take his hand and follow him into the bedroom. I’m still shaking a little, and Sam’s already dry, while I’m working with fingers that don’t seem to want to help out. ‘Let me.’ ‘I bought some stuff.’ ‘Stuff?’ ‘KY.’ I reach into my nightstand and pull out the bag. ‘Okay.’ Twisting off the lid, Sam turns it and pierces the metal seal over the end of the tube, then replaces the lid, giving it only a couple of twists. Then he reaches over me and puts it next to my elbow. Teasingly, he asks: ‘Now who’s the Boy Scout?’ After a few minutes during which I experience no discomfort whatsoever, the sore spot on my collar bone is an easy, reddened target for Sam’s mouth, and he laughs as he finally gives in to my pleas for him to stop. ‘Next one will be in a much more tender place.’ Sam pulls a pillow into the middle of the bed and rolls me gently onto my stomach, so that the pillow lifts my butt. Pulling a handful of Kleenex from the box on my nightstand, he reaches a hand into the gap between the sheet and my warm, still damp flesh, and I feel myself responding to the slight touch of his fingers as his hand is pulled back. He straddles my thighs, and I know he feels my muscles tense as his hands rest on my lower back. He leans forward, and I hear his reassuring whisper: ‘Relax. I’ll be gentle. Shhh.’ As he speaks, his hands are moving up and down my back, his fingers moving separately, massaging my warm skin. I’m only dimly aware that he’s moved, one thigh now between mine, parting them, and his fingers have moved from my back to my buttocks, the fingers still continuing to move in small circles. I’m suddenly aware that the pleasant sensation of his massaging hands has been replaced by the shockingly cold sensation of his finger, coated in the lubricant, inside me. ‘Shhh. Relax. There…’ I jerk as his finger, deeply inside me now, finds my prostate, and he laughs softly as he stimulates me again. The discomfort of a second finger stretching me is minimised by the almost immediate stimulation, and after what feels like hours, I feel his weight shift, his hands moving to my waist, and there’s a brief moment of intense pain then, we’re both completely still. I can feel him inside me, and hear our breathing. And George Michael. ‘Okay?’ ‘Mmmm.’ Apparently I lost the ability to form words when Sam entered me. Slowly and very gently, he pulls out a little way. Then pushes back in. As he repeats the gentle thrusts several times, one of us begins making a sound I’ve never heard before. And as the thrusts increase in speed and force, and the sound becomes hoarse, I realise it’s me. We both climax together, and lay, breathless on the bed, both looking at each other. As my muscles contract, I flinch. He seems concerned. ‘Josh, did I hurt you?’ I shake my head. ‘No. Well, yeah, but in a good way.’ ‘You okay?’ I manage a smile, although my mouth feels dry, and my jaw aches. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Next time, bring paper towels. It’s more absorbent. And put the KY in a cup of warm water.’ Like I care, right now. ‘Okay.’ Not about the paper towels, but the KY I’ll definitely remember. ‘Now, I think I remember promising you something to remember tonight by.’ This isn’t enough? Does Sam think I’m gonna forget this. Like, ever? But he’s leaning over me, and I close my eyes, my head back as his mouth closes on my chest, his tongue bringing my nipple to instant hardness. My eyes snap open as his teeth close on the skin around it. ‘Ow!’ He sits back on his heels, surveying the reddened flesh surrounding my nipple. ‘Want a matching pair?’ Ignoring the glint in his eye, I put a hand up to my chest, protectively covering my sore skin. ‘No!’ ‘Wanna have a go?’ ‘Try and stop me.’ I push Sam backwards and he watches me as I make my decision. ‘Think happy thoughts.’ My eyes roam down his body, starting so our eyes meet, then moving slowly downwards, stopping at his midriff. ‘I will be.’ As my mouth closes on his belly button, his body tenses. When my teeth nip the rim, he squeals and tries to buck under me, but my hands go to his arms, holding him down. After a few seconds, I release the small piece of skin I’ve been gripping in my teeth, and he looks at me. Smiling, I say: ‘Stings a little, huh?’ Rubbing the reddened skin, Sam hisses his reply through clenched teeth. ‘Just a bit.’ I remove his hand and hold it as I bend over and gently kiss the hot flesh. ‘Better?’ ‘Getting there.’ After a few more brushes of my lips on his stomach, I look up. ‘We must do this again.’ Sam scowls, looking down his body. ‘Not this.’ ‘Aww. That was my favourite part.’ I don’t move quickly enough and a pillow hits the side of my head. But his heart isn’t in it, and Sam quickly lowers the pillow. ‘I need some fresh air. Wanna come for a walk?’ It’s only just ten o’clock, and I nod. ‘Okay.’ Epilogue I had no idea that it would be very soon in our relationship that, almost without either of us noticing, I would start to lose the lead in the ‘us’ we would become. Josh was older, wiser, probably smarter, politically and intellectually, although I’d debate that if anyone asked. But slowly, over weeks and months, JayEll – my idea of a nickname based on his initials and because I used to be a fan of the TV programme Dallas - would become the dominant one. I would settle into a quieter role in our lives. Josh’s idea of a nickname connected with what I do – Lit – would stick too, and it would become hard to remember a time when we weren’t together. Or remember a time when the balance of our relationship was different. Sometimes, triggered by something Josh said or did that made me angry, I’d remember. I honestly doubt Josh ever did. Occasionally, I wonder what our lives would be like now if the balance of power had stayed with me. But I don’t really care. I have Josh. Oh, and he has me. End Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index