Title: Musical Chairs
Author: Baked Goldfish
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made, don't sue me. Include in archive: Sure, wherever.
Summary: Leo and Jed take the 'hands off' rule a little too literally, and Toby gets screwed with his pants on (but not actually, and he doesn't know it). Response to the Jed/Leo lists September challenge, and this is more for humor value than anything else (even though it's not a spoof fic).


Musical Chairs by Baked Goldfish

"Remember what we said, before you got elected?" Leo warned as he saw Jed's hands coming towards him.

Jed scowled. "I can't even give you a shoulder massage?" he asked, perturbed.

"Hands off, Mr. President," Leo stated dismissively, glasses perched at the tip of his nose as he peered at papers on his desk and in his hands. "Hands off."

"I can't even give you a handshake, then?" Bartlet growled sarcastically, pacing behind the high-backed chair in which Leo sat.

"Don't be flippant," Leo replied, barely even looking up from his work. It was late, past midnight, and it was a Friday; he wanted to get out of the office, and Jed was being a little distracting. "Can you please stop pacing??"

"Fine," Jed huffed. He stopped right behind Leo's chair, watching him work in the soft, late light. His frown turned from one of perturbance to one of thoughtfulness to one of wicked impishness. "Hands off, Leo. You'll get what you want."


Pulling the curtains closed as surreptitiously as possible, Bartlet kept glancing at Leo every now and again to make sure he was still involved in his work. The offices were empty, he knew, except for the custodial staff and the Secret Service, and he knew that his agents would not let the custodians into a room that the President was currently occupying. He supressed an evil laugh as he pulled Leo's chair from under his desk in one quick jolt.

"What the-" Leo almost jerked out of his seat, and grabbed onto the arm rests as the chair was swiveled around and backed up against his desk again. "Mr. President, what on earth-"

"You said hands off, right?"

"Exactly, so what-"

His hands on the leather arm rests and well-away from Leo's own hands, Jed dove in for a kiss, his lips pressed hard onto Leo's and his tongue forcing its way into his mouth. Releasing him, Jed growled, "You want hands off, you got it."

Leo stared at him in confusion, which quickly changed to an odd mixture of panic and excitement. "You've gotta be kidding me, Jed, there's no way--oh." He stopped when he felt teeth at the lobe of his ear, and soon found himself fully unable to speak.

"Think your rule sucks now?" Jed growled around the bit of skin in his mouth.

Leo maneuvered his way out of Jed's grasp, and caught the President's lips with his own. "Actually, I quite like it," he replied, pushing out of the chair. Jed stumbled back, against a desk, and Leo pinned him there by putting his hands around Jed's waist and bracing them on the surface. No touching whatsoever.

"What're you gonna do now?" Jed breathed, an impish smirk on his lips. "Can't touch me."

"Yeah I can," Leo retorted, forcing Jed's legs apart and dipping down to his jawline. "See this?" he growled, his breath hot on Jed's skin.

It took all his self-control to fight the dizzying urge to just grab Leo right there and have him over his desk, but somehow Jed managed to keep his hands braced behind him on the wood surface. But, he fought, and instead of grabbing he pushed back.

"Ah, see, that's not fair," Leo gasped as the pressure increased between them. "Stop that . . . "

"You sure?" Jed asked, sliding to his knees. "How long do you think you can hold out with me not even touching you?"

Leo's mind was swimming as Jed undid his belt with his teeth. "What're you plannin' to do?"

Jed stared at the boxers before him, and wondered how he would get around them. "What a conundrum. What a bugaboo. What a-"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Leo muttered right before tugging his shorts down. "Problem solved."

Jed stared up at him, and said, "Well, I'll need something to hang on to, and you've got that ridiculous hands-off rule, so-"

Leo scrambled and brought his chair up to them. Sitting down, he stated, "Support, here. Suck now."

"You always were industrious," Jed muttered as he kneeled and braced his hands on the edge of the seat. A second later, he was swirling his tongue around the head of Leo's cock, feeling his own straining through his trousers at the gasps that Leo was making.

Leo grabbed onto the armrests, knuckles going white, as Jed swallowed him whole. "Give a guy a little warning, wouldja?" he breathed, dizzy.

"Mmphg," Jed replied. He kept pumping, right until he thought Leo was about to come. Pulling away, he said, "I wanna be in you."

Leo stared at him, stunned. "I really don't see how that's possible, so please, go back to what you were just doing."

"No, I think we can do it," he said eagerly. "Take your pants off."

For a moment, it looked like he wouldn't do anything; then, Leo stood up and stepped out of his trousers. "Now what?"

"What do you think?" Jed sputtered. "Turn around, you goof."

He did just that, and glanced behind him nervously as he braced himself on the desk. "Wait a minute," he said suddenly, pulling a drawer open and taking out a small bottle.

Jed looked at the bottle Leo was handing him. "Jergen's?" he asked incredulously.

"It gets dry in here, my hands chap," Leo protested. "Now hurry it up!"

Shrugging, Jed popped the top open and squeezed out a generous amount. "Thank god for chapping hands," he muttered as he lubed up. Putting his hands next to Leo's, he pushed until he was inside him, grinning at both the welcoming tightness, and the appreciative grunt that Leo made.

"Now what do you think of that damnable 'hands off' rule?" he grunted, barely able to concentrate on words and speaking by that point.

Finding some inner strength to speak, Leo gasped out, "Technically . . . we've followed that rule . . . "

"Oh, fuck you," Jed growled, accentuating each word with a thrust.

"I thought you already were," Leo replied as sarcastically as possible, dizzy and breathless. "Speaking of which--Christ!" He came, spilling onto his desk and a little on the chair; a scant second later, he felt Jed shooting hot into him.

"I knew it," Jed panted, a triumphant grin on his face. "I knew . . . you'd learn to hate . . . the hands-off rule."

Catching his breath, Leo pushed Jed off him and went off in search of his pants. "Technically, we didn't break it."

Pulling his own pants back up, Jed scowled. "Lawyer."

"You know you like it," he replied with a peck on the cheek.

"And *you* know I deserve a little more than a kiss on the cheek," Jed stated, giving him a kiss full on the lips.

"Fine, yeah, and I bet next you'll want me to tell you that I love you," Leo mocked, kissing him back.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare . . . " It was about that point that they both turned their attention to the desk, as if some tiny voices in their heads told them to do so. "Uh, Leo?"

"I see it," he replied, pulling out his hankerchief. Wiping his desk clean, he crushed the cloth and muttered, "And people wonder why I still carry around real hankerchiefs."

"You missed a spot, there," Jed stated, pointing to the chair.

Nodding, Leo wiped the armrest. It came off, but left a slight stain. "Come on," he muttered, wiping it again. The stain remained.

"You're kidding me," Jed scoffed, taking the hankerchief. "It won't come out . . . "

"I don't want a chair with a . . . a . . . " Leo's voice trailed off, and he motioned helplessly at the armrest.

"How'd it even *get* there?" Jed asked, rubbing at it furiously.

"I don't know!" he sputtered, pacing.

"Well, it's *your* . . . stuff," Jed muttered. "Who's supposed to know, the pope??"

Leo glared at him for a moment. "Look. All I know is I won't be able to work with . . . "

Giving up, Jed stood and said, "For chrissake, it came out of your body. You're telling me you can't-"

"I really can't, Jed," Leo replied, exasperated. "This is all your fault, you know."

"My fault?!"

"You wooed me."

Jed laughed. "I *what*?" Shaking his head, he added, "Never mind. Look, we'll just . . . I dunno, we'll switch it with someone else's."

"Yeah, and they're not gonna notice they got a new chair that looks suspiciously like mine?" Leo retorted.

"You'll make up a reason, don't worry," Jed hushed. "Now tuck your shirt in, we're going to switch your chair out with someone else's."

[The next morning]

"Is that it?" Leo asked of the staff. They mumbled their consent that it was, indeed the end of the meeting, and filed out. Only one remained.

"Leo," Toby began. "I, uh, got a question."


A little perplexed, he said, "I seem to have your chair."

"No you don't," Leo replied innocently.

"Well, it looks like yours," Toby stated, confused. "And yours kinda looks like mine."

"Oh!" Taking a deep breath, Leo said, "I called the maintenance guys about that. It, um, seems as if we were due for . . . new chairs."

"New chairs?"

"Yeah," he said ernestly. "Uh, apparently, ours were . . . old." He smiled innocently, and swallowed nervously.

"Old?" Toby repeated, dubious.


Nodding, he turned to leave. Abruptly, he turned back around. "See, my new chair's got this stain on the armrest, though . . . "

"Well," Leo began, taking another deep breath. "You should talk to the, um, maintenance guys about getting another chair, then."

"Yeah," Toby mumbled, a little more confused than before. "I think I'll do that."

"Good," Leo stated as the communications director left. Letting out a sigh, he slumped into his "new" chair; he sat up again, hearing a muffled laughter. Scowling, he got up and went to the door connecting his office to the President's.

In the small hallway, Jed was red in the face from trying to keep his laughter at bay. "A new chair, Leo?" he guffawed.

"It's all your fault, you know," Leo growled.

"Why, because I 'wooed' you?" Jed replied, chuckling.


"I love you."

"You're a dweeb."

"But I love you."

"I love you too. But you're still a dweeb."

"This coming from Mr. 'New Chairs'?"

Leo glared at him. "Your fault."

Jed kissed him. "You're the one with the dumb rule."

"Which," Leo began, "we have found we can get around."

"Then why have it at all?" Jed wheedled.

"Because I kinda like the look on Toby's face when we switch out chairs."