Chapters: 001 Word Count: 1764
Character(s): Toby Ziegler, CJ Cregg, Sam Seaborn
Category(ies): Pre-White House, Romance
Crossover Shows: - No Show -
Summary: They never touched in a room full of people, it was against the rules.
Author Notes: Written for the Toby/Sam ficathon on livejournal. Written for crushing83's prompt of Toby and Sam during the campaign. Thanks to raedbard for actually making me believe I could do it.
It was raining the first time they kissed. November in New Hampshire was cold and so was the back room of the Bartlet for America storefront. They were alone, Sam shivering on a loveseat as he and Toby bounced ideas off each other for a speech in Nashua. The Brooklyn native was already sick of the cold, damp weather and though Sam had been gone from California for many years, this made him want to return.
“I can't think anymore.” he said. “It’s freezing in here. Can we please go back to the hotel?”
Sam stood, pacing as he wrapped his arms around himself. It didn’t help a bit just as the heater in the corner did not. Toby stood too. He stopped Sam from moving and began to rub the younger man’s arms.
“You have to think Sam. Governor Bartlet just declared…this is not a test. I don’t care if I strip you naked and throw you into Lake Winnipesaukee; you have to be able to think.”
Thinking of Toby stripping him naked did not stop the trembling. He was in a dream like state as Toby’s hands moved up and down from his shoulders to his wrists. He leaned over and pressed his mouth over Toby’s. It had been a long time since he kissed a man with a beard. What he was thinking, Sam would never know.
He expected to be pushed away, possibly punched very hard, but that didn’t happen. Toby deepened the kiss, pulling him close until their stomachs pressed together. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few moments. A few moments that felt like a lifetime. It warmed Sam Seaborn enough to write a speech. A smile crossed his lips thinking of the even colder nights soon to come.
“Don't you dare break his heart.”
“Are you talking to the TV again?”
They were in Florida in March, not tropical but at least there was no snow. CJ Cregg sat in Toby Ziegler’s hotel room with the television on. He was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. He was also debating whether to throw her out or ask her to stay.
“I'm talking to you.” she said.
“I don’t know what you're talking about.” he poked his head out of the doorway. “Its not the first time you know.”
“I'm talking about Sam Seaborn.”
“What about him?”
“Oh c'mon Tobus, we've known each other for how long? He clearly has feelings for you. You clearly…OK, you never do anything clearly. Campaign flings end badly.”
“Are you speaking from experience? We are not having a fling.”
“Sam is having a fling; I don’t know what you're having.”
Toby didn’t answer. He didn’t need to justify his behavior to anyone. He also had no idea what was going on. It had been too long to recall feeling like this. Sam always made him giddy. What was the matter with him? This was not the time or the place, and it definitely was not the person. But the way Sam looked at him when he spoke or touched his hand when no one else was in the room; those things meant something to Toby. He would never say, could not say, but they did.
“I need to go to bed.” He came out of the bathroom dressed in pajamas. “Tomorrow is a big day.”
“Everyday is a big day.”
“You better get some beauty rest so you can be peppy enough to flirt with Danny Concannon in the morning.”
“Don’t make this about me. And I do not flirt with Danny Concannon.”
“Goodnight, Claudia Jean.”
There were parts of Toby incredibly soft to the touch. His lips, his earlobes, his wrists, his belly; Sam could not get enough. The way he would moan, always if in pain or against his will, took some getting used to. He didn’t mind being fucked, he liked being fucked, and he never had to say a word. Sam just knew. Sam knew when to come to his hotel room, undress him, and fuck him. He knew when to hold him as he slept or to give him space. He even knew when to leave in the middle of the night or stay until five when Toby woke up. The man was like an alarm clock; it was always five o’clock.
Sam knew Toby was surprised by how in tune they were to each other’s wants and needs. Words, the very thing that brought them to the same universe, were something they never needed. A look in Sam’s eyes could get his cock sucked. A simple smile could get him pressed into a wall or thrown over a chair. Rough or soft were as easy as a glance or a touch. Toby touching him was a dead giveaway. They never touched in a room full of people, it was against the rules. Again unspoken, there were things they didn’t do, never did. Never made it to be something more than what it was. Not that Sam could ever say what it was. He certainly wasn’t going to ask, because words would be the enemy that day.
In Illinois, they knew it was theirs and Toby knew what he had to do. After the news of Josh’s father and the acceptance speech, weary Bartlet staffers each found their own hole and disappeared in it. The roller coaster ride had been non-stop and Toby was content to sit in his room drinking bourbon. He needed to get with CJ and work on the press schedule; the nominee would be wanted everywhere. Leo and Josh would have to be in that meeting too.
Sam showed up late, still elated. He threw himself into Toby’s arms but felt the change. There would be no tender kisses tonight. Toby opened his mouth to speak but Sam held up his hand.
“Please…” the older man almost pleaded.
“No.” Sam shook his head.
“I have to…”
“No. I’ll leave you to your work; sorry to disturb you.”
“We both knew this couldn’t last…”
The outburst caught Toby off guard and the words of his best friend rang in his ear. Don’t you dare break his heart. How could he do anything but? It’s what he had always done when someone decided to love him. He should have warned Sam beforehand but he would have run away. Toby didn’t want him to go, he wanted him to stay. But this was not a love story because guys like him didn’t star in love stories. He wasn’t Richard Gere; never beat anyone off with a stick. Who was he to expect someone like Sam Seaborn to fall in love with him?
Toby would watch him walk away. It was for the best; Sam would bounce back. He was young, passionate, and someday the right person would love him as strong as he thought he loved Toby. He touched Sam’s wrist…so precious and attached to those beautiful hands.
Sam’s hand slipped away and he walked out of the hotel door. He was just next door, Toby thought of him all night since sleep never came to him.
Five o’clock came and went. Then five ten, five fifteen, and five twenty. Finally, at five thirty Sam could take no more. He leaned in close, nibbling the shoulder of the sleeping man next to him. One never knew what they were in store for when waking Toby Ziegler from sleep…Sam was willing to take his chances. The older man grumbled then turned over and looked at his companion. Sam did not wait for words; he just kissed him. Toby moaned and pulled Sam close to him. The bed creaked from the sudden movement but neither cared.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” Sam mumbled between kisses.
“Yes you did.”
“You're usually awake. I was waiting.”
“I thought I was the impatient one.” Toby replied, stroking Sam’s naked body.
Sam just closed his eyes and smiled. He loved the way Toby touched him and he thought he would never feel it again. To live without that euphoria would be a life of emptiness. Not to feel his beard scratching perfect skin, the way he would murmur before he tasted Sam’s nipples, the wetness of his tongue and his nimble, exploring fingers…Sam would rather die.
He felt alive when Toby pushed him back on the mattress and made love to him with his mouth. Sam loved to run his fingers through those dark curls, whimpering Toby’s name and arching his back against the assault. He wanted to kiss afterwards, tasting his cum on Toby’s lips and in his mouth. He wanted Toby’s body to rub against his and make him hard and hungry all over again.
“I'm in a lot of trouble.” Sam said, shivering as Toby turned him on his stomach. He knew what was coming and he was so eager.
“I’ll only hurt you if you ask, Sam.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He tensed as Toby’s fingers teased his rim.
“Nothing, nothing, just fuck me Toby…please.”
He chuckled, low in his throat, his lips pressed into the nape of Sam’s neck.
“I will, and you’ll like it.”
“I’ll love it; I love you.” Sam gasped when it came out, also groaning as the length of Toby Ziegler invaded his body. He loved the sound Toby made when he could go no further. He felt Toby’s hips press against his ass and thought he would black out.
“Oh my sweet, sweet Sam. You are so damn sweet. I hope I don’t break your heart.”
He already had. Sam had experienced every high and low almost a year on the campaign trail. He knew what might be coming, maybe something extraordinary or perhaps something that would destroy him. These feelings were worth what might be around the corner. They were so good together, with words and in deeds, nothing was going to change that. If years from now the acts of this rainy September morning in Philadelphia were nothing but a distant memory, Sam would never regret following his heart. It led him to the campaign, it led him to the man, and it could take him anywhere. Bumps, bruises, and wounds were worth it when you let yourself live.