Title: Midnight Snacks
Author: Baked Goldfish
Pairing: Leo/Jed (surprise, surprise!)
Summary: Chocolate syrup & whipped cream ain't just for sundaes.
Rated: A nice, low-calorie NC-17
Notes & Warnings: Be sure to use only one free-range Dominant!Jed and only one free-range WantonSlut!Leo in your recipe, as they will blend together. . . add half a cup of eating-off-someone-else's-body before mixing. . . a teaspoon of bondage will help the batter stiffen. . . add a dash of spanking, to flavor. . . also, olive oil should be utilised liberally for its viscous, lubricating qualities. Pour into an 8x11x3 inch pan, bake in a pre-heated 275 degree oven, cool, slice, enjoy. Clean up with a cloth dishtowel. That said, this is just a stupid little fic, an excuse to see two guys have sex. Don't expect art. . .
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. No money being made here. Also, no foods were harmed in the production of this PWP.
Archive: Sure. Right next to your mom's brownie recipe. Just let me know.
PS: Unbeta'd work ahead. Beware.


Midnight Snacks by Baked Goldfish

He peeked around the corner, and tightened his robe around his body some more. Nobody there. Cautiously, he tip-toed down the stairs to the-


Wincing, he froze where he stood, waiting for the longest moment to see if any of his agents were coming. Seconds ticked past in the quiet late hours of the night, and he resumed his slow journey, with nary another creak disturbing the peace of darkness again.

At last, the President of the United States of America, the single most powerful person in the free world, the man with a vast military at his fingertips, slipped into the deserted White House kitchen. Grinning like a schoolboy, he scurried over to the fridge. With a cackle, he opened the freezer and grabbed a two-quart ice cream carton; then he opened the fridge and took the chocolate syrup and whipped cream. He snuck the stuff over to the nearest counter, and grabbed a bowl out of a nearby cupboard.

He looked the bowl over, then put it back. In its place, he grabbed a big pot, dumping the contents of the ice cream carton into it. Taking a long wooden spoon, he scraped the last bits of ice cream out before chucking the now spent cardboard carton into a trashcan.

He was about to grab the chocolate syrup when he heard the big double doors swoosh open. Panicking, he ducked under the counter, reaching up a moment later to snatch the pot of ice-creamy goodness.

He heard the click-click-click of men's Italian shoes on the linoleum floor, and his panic levels went down some. He knew that gait too well, even by sound alone. Still, he held his ice cream close to him, fearful that even this man would think to steal it away from him.

Leo McGarry walked through the lines of massive ovens, mixers, and sinks, making his way to the fridge. Working late at night tended to make a man hungry, and there was nothing he wanted more right now than a corned beef sandwich. Opening the fridge, he noticed in the corner of his eye that the chocolate syrup and whipped cream were sitting out on the counter. Shrugging, he took his sandwich ingredients out and set them beside the syrup and whipped cream.

McGarry glared at the chocolate and whipped cream for a moment; then he glanced in the trashcan, and saw the empty carton. With an exasperated sigh, he started glancing around the kitchen.

"Mr. President," he called as he set about making his sandwich. "You know you're not supposed to have ice cream after ten, sir." When he got no response, glanced around some more. "It's not good for you, sir. And Abbey'll kill me if she knew I'd let you have it."

"Then don't tell her," Jed shot back, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.

Leo finished making his snack, and a smile twitched its way onto his lips. Leaning down against the counter, he took a bite of the corned beef sandwich. "Now why would I go and lie to her?"

Hesitantly, Jed crawled out from under the counter. "I'll share it with ya," he answered petulantly, offering the bowl to Leo.

McGarry could feel Bartlet's eyes on him, and he decided to make the most out of it. He leaned on the counter further, elbows on the tabletop, feet spread just a bit, ass in the air. "You know," he sighed, "I don't think I want this sandwich anymore. . ." Leo placed the sandwich on the counter and started playing with the bottle of chocolate syrup.

Jed was too busy enjoying the view to notice. "Well, what do you want?" he asked, his voice a little higher than usual, his throat a little drier.

Leo took the cap off the chocolate syrup bottle with his lips as he turned around languorously. Tossing the cap to the ground, he started to form droplets of chocolate on the back of one of his hands. He leaned back against the counter, feet crossed, shoulders back, chest and hips jutting forward.

Slowly, he lapped up each and every dot of dark sweetness from his skin save one. "Chocolate," he answered afterwards. Offering his hand to Jed, he murmured, "Want some?"

Jed leaned forward to lick the last bit of chocolate away, only to have the hand taken away from him at the last possible moment. Pouting, he watched as Leo suckled the bit of skin where that chocolate once was.

Looking up from his hand, Leo turned his gaze on the ice cream Jed was holding. "What kind is that?" Before Jed could answer, McGarry snatched the long-handled wooden spoon out of the other man's hand and dipped it into the stainless steel pot.

He walked back to the counter. Putting the shallow bowl of the spoon in his mouth, Leo closed his eyes. "Mmm," he moaned as he sucked every bit of ice cream off, thrusting the spoon in and out of his mouth slowly. "Vanilla. . . you can never go wrong with vanilla," he murmured huskily after running his tongue over the wood one last time.

By this time, Jed had long since forgotten the ice cream in his hands. His breathing shallow and short, he stared at the top of the spoon, eyes wide.

Leo smirked at him, put the spoon down, and took off his jacket. "A bit warm in here," he commented as he undid his tie. "You know what might cool me off a bit?"

Swallowing hard, Jed's eyes followed Leo's fingers as they undid the chief of staff's shirt buttons. "Um, what would that be?"

"Whipped cream," Leo answered nonchalantly. Leaving the shirt half undone, he reached behind him and grabbed the spray can of whipped cream. He grabbed Jed's right hand and took the president's index finger between his own index and thumb. He squirted a small dollop of white fluff on the tip of the other man's outstretched digit; tongue first, eyes locked on Jed's, he suckled just the very tip of Jed's finger, swirling his tongue around to get all the whipped cream up.

Jed bit his lower lip, unable to avert his eyes. Despite his best efforts, a groan escaped his lips.

Releasing the captive finger, Leo stood straight up. "Wanna taste?" he asked, grinning impishly. Jed's nearly unfocused eyes and slack jaw were answer enough for him, and he tilted his head back, stuck his tongue out, and sprayed a little whipped cream on the tip.

With his forearms on the walls on either side of the other man, Leo leaned forward, slipping his tongue into Jed's open mouth. Bartlet sucked on him, suckling off every last bit of the sweet stuff.

Leo pulled his tongue out of Jed's mouth. "Know why I let you have that?" he asked, voice low and rough.


"Zero calories." He pressed his lips against Jed's, forcing his mouth open again. Once more, their tongues intermingled, and both of them could still taste sugary traces of the whipped cream. . . then it was gone, and all they could taste was each other.

Leo pushed Jed harder against the wall, and he could feel the other man stiff against his own hard cock. "Whatcha got under this robe?" he growled into Bartlet's open mouth. The hand that wasn't still holding the whipped cream can dropped down between them to undo Jed's belt.

"Sweats," he gasped out as Leo broke away to look at the fabric. "Just. . . sweats."

"You must be burning up," Leo cooed as he softly ran his hands between Jed's legs.

The now-forgotten pot of ice cream landed on the floor with a clang.

Deftly, Leo undid the drawstrings to Jed's pants. "I'll bet you would really like to cool off, wouldn't you, Mr. President." He used the title as if it were a dirty word, and slipped his free hand inside Bartlet's slackened waistband, running a fingernail up and down the sensitive underside of the other man's hard member. He ran the cold can of whipped cream under Jed's shirt, grinning when he shivered in response.

It wasn't hard to slip the sweatshirt off Jed's body. Grin still in place, Leo sprayed the whipped cream across Jed's chest and stomach in no particular pattern, looking hungrier and hungrier with every jerk and shudder that Jed made. Resting his hands on the other man's hips, he slowly dragged his tongue hot against Jed's skin, concentrating on lapping up all the sugary fluff diligently and assiduously.

All Jed could do was grab hard onto Leo's shoulders and stare off unfocused into the distance. He jerked as he felt Leo pass his tongue over a hardened nipple, and jerked again when that same nipple was bitten lightly.

When Leo was finished, he looked up at his commander-in-chief. "Done," he stated quietly, a smile in his voice. "What's next?"

A smile crept onto Jed's face. Slowly, pushed Leo towards one of the sinks. "Turn around," he ordered, so that Leo faced the stainless steel basin. "Now undo your belt."

"Yes, sir," Leo complied quickly, whipping the belt off his trousers with a flourish. Jed snatched it out of his hands and bent him over, quickly tying McGarry's wrist to the jutting faucet.

Jed picked up the wooden spoon. Grasping the handle in his mouth, he yanked Leo's trousers and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles. Taking the spoon in his hand, he asked, "Leo, you know what I'm gonna do now?"

McGarry craned his neck, trying to get a better view of what was going on behind him. He gasped when he felt something sting his right ass-cheek.

"That's for not letting me have any chocolate syrup," Bartlet muttered, before slapping Leo's other cheek, smiling at the other man's gasp. "That's for making me waste all that ice cream." He slapped him again, and again Leo gasped.

"What was that for?" Leo asked, breathing heavier than before.

"That was for having an adorable ass." He pushed himself against Leo, feeling the other man shudder at his touch. "You want this?"

Leo nodded enthusiastically, giving Jed a half-grin. Jed slapped his ass one more time before backing off, his grin growing wide as Leo's faltered.

"Relax, Leo, I'm just trying to figure out what we can use for lubricant," he stated, chuckling.

"It's a kitchen, for chrissake, there's bound to be *some*thing," Leo snapped impatiently.

Jed cast him a glare and opened up a cabinet. "Aha!" he announced triumphantly, pulling out a stout glass container. "Olive oil!" Reading the label more closely, he chuckled. "Extra virgin. How utterly ironic."

"Har har har," Leo said, rolling his eyes. "Just bring the stuff over here, huh?"

Laughing heartily, Jed walked up to the sink Leo was tied to, uncapping the bottle at the same time. Pouring a little onto his fingers, he rumbled, "Revenge is a dish best served cold, Leo. This is what you get for that stupid whipped-cream-on-the-finger crap." He slid one finger inside Leo, and wriggled it around a bit; his other hand rested on Leo's hip, to keep him from moving much.

Thrusting back against the lone digit, Leo let out an exasperated sigh. "Come *on*, Jed," he urged. Of course, Jed did not listen; squirming and wiggling was doing nothing but getting Leo more and more frustrated. Every now and again, Jed's finger dragged across just the right places, and Leo became more and more frantic in his attempts at fidgeting.

"You want two now?" Jed asked, pulling his finger out.

Leo gasped at the emptiness. "God, yes," he panted, nodding fervently. He damn near screamed when he felt two fingers enter him, moving inside him slowly. "Jesus, Jed," he gasped, trying to thrust back.

Leaning forward, Jed used his free hand to tilt Leo's face towards his. In a flash, he had his tongue in Leo's mouth, tasting every surface, and the chief of staff could do nothing but moan softly while he tried to counterthrust. Jed broke the kiss and stood up again, slipping his fingers out again. Leo jerked against the faucet, unable to break free.

"Three?" The wanton way Leo spread his legs a little wider was his answer, and he slipped three fingers inside him, smiling at the groan it caused. He moved his free hand around to grip Leo's painfully hard cock, and Jed's smile widened as McGarry thrust himself against his palm. Again, he leaned forward, this time taking the lobe of Leo's ear between his teeth, nipping and sucking at it, driving the other man right to the edge.

And then he stopped nipping, let go, and pulled his fingers out. The whimper Leo gave almost made him laugh. Leaning back next to the sink, Jed pulled his own cock out of his pants and poured some olive oil into the palm of his hand. He glanced at Leo; he was staring in rapt attention. Leisurely, Jed started rubbing the oil over his sensitive skin, pausing at the head for a small groan.

"Josiah," Leo pleaded, trying to break free of the belt that tied him to the faucet. His eyes were still glued on Jed's hand as it moved up and down his shaft.

"Almost ready there, Leo," Jed announced, placing a hand on the inside of Leo's thigh. His eyes twinkled as McGarry wantonly twisted and bucked to try and get that hand higher up. "Just hold your-" He glanced at Leo's hands. "-faucet." He walked away from the sink, looking around the vicinity.

Leo let his head drop, hips and cock both twitching involuntarily. "Where," he gasped, unable to complete a coherent sentence.

"It's a kitchen, Leo," Jed answered from behind him. "We don't want to make *that* much of a mess." He returned with a towel, which he dangled in front of Leo's face. "Makes for easy cleanup."

Leo felt Jed parting his cheeks; a moment later, he yelped as Jed buried himself deep. The towel wrapped around Leo's cock, while an arm wrapped around his stomach. Jed thrust into him hard, and Leo thrust back harder, begging for him to go faster and harder still. Jed bucked into him one final time before they both came.

Leo's knees gave out from under him, and he slumped against the sink, his still-tied arms the only thing keeping him in any semblance of upright. Jed fell with him, but wasn't as supported; he landed on his back with a somewhat satisfied "oomph".

"Wow," was all Jed could utter moments later, still lying on the floor.

"Ungh," was Leo's reply. He twitched slightly, banging his belt against the faucet. His face was flush against the counter, the edge boring into his cheek. Eyes dull, jaw slack, he did not seem to care about the edge.

It took a few seconds for Jed to come to his senses, but he did, and he got up and undid Leo's belt. "Whoa, there," he muttered, catching him as Leo slumped backwards. "You okay?" he asked, laying him down on the floor and pulling his pants back up.

"M'fine," he answered with a dazed grin plastered on his face. "I'm just gonna lay here for a little while. . ."

With a nod, Jed got up, washed his hands, and fixed his own pants. Picking up the used towel, he chuckled softly before stuffing it in his pocket for later disposal. When he glanced back at Leo, the other man's eyes were shut, his head was lolled to the side, and a little drool was coming out of the corner of his slightly open mouth.

Jed grinned and tip-toed over to the pot of ice cream. It would be half-melted and partially spilled, but it would be salvageable. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he bent over to pick it up.

"Don't even think about it, Jed."

With a pout, he stood back up and shuffled to the door. Once there, he asked petulantly, "Can I have your sandwich?"

"Not a chance in hell. Goodnight, sir."

"I want some ice cream, Leo."

"Whatever. Goodnight, sir."

A pause. Then: "You have to admit that was good. Really, really good."

"I'm lying on the floor unable to move. It was great. But you're not getting any damn ice cream."

"Damn. Between you and Mrs. Landingham-"

"And on that note, I'm heading back to the office," Leo stated, shuffling to his feet. Putting on his tie, belt, and jacket, he started heading out the door.

Jed watched the double doors swish back and forth after Leo's exit. Then, he watched it swish again as Leo came back into the kitchen. He watched as the chief of staff bent down to pick up the pot of half-melted ice cream, and admired the view for a moment. He watched as McGarry picked up the sandwich. He watched as he got a spoon from a drawer.

He watched as Leo walked over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Shrugging, his chief of staff said, "Well, I'm even hungrier now." And then he left.