Title: Tripping
Author: Baked Goldfish
Pairing: Leo/POTUS
Rated: NC-17
Summary: It's a well known fact that Jed Bartlet is a complete and utter klutz. However, that's not always a bad thing.
NOTE: There really isn't a plot here. Just random sex in the woods.
Disclaimer: If anyone related to the show "The West Wing" is reading this, please don't sue me. I'm really not worth it. In fact, instead of suing me, send me reviews/critiques. For instance, do I keep them in character when they're screwing each other's brains out? I'd really like to know. Thanks.
Archive: Sure, just let me know.

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Tripping by Baked Goldfish

"If we don't get Akelman on this bill, we won't get it passed."

"Is that cedar?"

Leo stopped walking and looked incredulously at his president. They

had been travelling a path in the woods of Camp David that fine spring

afternoon, discussing politics, much to the president's chagrin.

"Sir, this is serious. If we don't get this bill passed-"

"Leo, do you know why we're here?" President Bartlet turned his

attention from the tree-that-was-not-cedar to his best friend.

"I'm not big on metaphysics, Mr. President," McGarry quipped dryly.

"We're on vacation, Leo," Jed answered, ignoring Leo's remark. "Say

it with me: vacation. Va-*caaa*-tion."

Rolling his eyes, Leo started walking along the path again. "Mr.

President, this is an important bill, and while *you* may be on

vacation, *I've* still got a country to run."

Bartlet started walking after him, looking at Leo with mock

indignation. "Leo, you don't even know what the word vacation means,

do you."

"No, sir." He glanced semi-fearfully at Jed. "You don't have a

lecture planned, do you?"

With a chuckle, the president answered, "Relax, Leo, I--hey!"

Leo watched, startled, as Jed tripped on something on the ground and

fell. The path sloped down drastically on the side, and turned into a

ravine. Stunned, McGarry watched as Jed disappeared over the edge.

It took him less than a second to gather himself together, and he

peered over the edge of the path. The president lay on his side,

still, in a bed of pine needles and twigs and dirt at the base of the

slope. Leo scrambled down the hill, skidding on the dry soil in his

haste.

He half-ran, half-slid into a prone position beside the unconcious

man. "Mr. President?" Trying not to let his panic rise, he pulled a

hankerchief out of his pocket and started dabbing at the thin trail of

blood that was forming by Bartlet's temple. //Think, Leo, think. . .

check for responsiveness, check for breathing, check for bleeding,

broken bones. . .// Quickly, McGarry went down the checklist,

glancing up nervously to see if any Secret Service agents had

miraculously shown up. //Just like him to order them to stay away. .

. dammit.// "Jed? C'mon, wake up."

With a small groan, Jed rolled onto his back and opened his eyes

slowly. "Wha. . . what happened?" He looked at Leo's worried face.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay," he half-whispered, dabbing at the smudge of blood,

occasionally brushing bits of dust and stray hair away from Bartlet's

forehead. "You, on the other hand. . . you need to learn to curb your

clutziness."

Blushing a bit, Jed looked up at his friend. He could tell that Leo

was hiding something behind that sarcastic comment. "I'm sorry," he

mumbled by way of apology. "Where are we?"

"Out in the middle of nowhere," Leo grumbled good-naturedly. He had

given up wiping blood and started brushing dirt and hair off the

President's face. "And no Secret Service agents around for miles.

Just our luck," he huffed.

"Yeah, just our luck," Jed murmured absently, smiling lopsidedly.

Suddenly, he grabbed the hair on the back of Leo's head with both

hands and pulled him down into a fierce kiss. "Just our luck," he

growled onto Leo's lips.

With a sputter, Leo tore away from Jed and pushed himself into a

kneeling position. "Mr. President-"

"C'mon, call me Jed."

"*Mr. President*, " Leo repeated, ignoring Bartlet's request. "First

off, we're in the open woods. Second, you've got a head wound, a

concussion for all I know. Third, we're in the open woods. I make it

a point not to make out with concussed men in the open woods."

Sitting up, Jed passed his fingers over his slightly reddened temple.

"It's not that bad, Leo. And, besides, you wouldn't be making out

with a concussed man in the open woods. Camp David is decidedly

*closed* woods." He brushed his fingers through Leo's hair. "Now,

c'mon. I'm tired of talking politics." Grabbing the other man by his

collar, Jed pulled them both back down onto the ground. His lips met

Leo's once more; this time, it took longer for Leo to pull back.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," the chief of staff warned,

pushing Jed onto his back. "If someone sees us. . . not to mention,

you just fell into a ravine. . ."

"Shut up. C'mere." He pulled Leo down on top of him before rolling

them both so that he was on top, pinning Leo below him. "You see,"

Jed started in between kisses, "we're alone. We haven't been *alone*

since before the election."

Leo was finding it harder and harder to object to Jed's argument. "We

should. . ." His voice trailed off as Jed worked the top button of

his shirt open with his mouth. "Open areas. . ."

"Nngh." Jed's head snapped back suddenly as the button popped off

Leo's shirt. He spat the offending piece of plastic to the ground and

muttered, "Damn. I broke your shirt." By way of apology, he nipped

at the hollow where Leo's neck met his chest, knowing full well the

effect it had on the other man.

Leo lay on his back, breathing getting more shallow by the moment as

Jed hands moved under the flannel of Leo's shirt until they came to a

rest on his waistband. "Look, we. . ." His thoughts melted into

nothingness, and it was all he could do to just stare, wide-eyed and

dizzy, at the treetops that towered above them.

Jed moved his hands to the button of Leo's jeans, and took the pull of

the other man's zipper between his teeth. As he undid McGarry's fly,

he heard a gasp. Nuzzling the hardness that was straining through

black boxers resulted in another gasp, and Jed gave him a kiss that

warranted just one more gasp before he crawled up to give his lover a

kiss on the mouth. He exhaled sharply himself as his own painfully

throbbing cock made contact with Leo's.

Finally, Leo's mind cleared just enough for him to figure out what to

do with his hands. Sucking and nipping lightly on the crook of Jed's

neck, he slipped his hands under his Notre Dame sweatshirt. He was

rewarded with a distracted pause in Bartlet's assault, and he took the

opportunity to lift the shirt up even more and latch onto a hard,

round nipple, growling and tugging and suckling just enough to bring

Jed to the edge. Keeping his mouth firmly in place, he slid his

fingers inside Jed's waistband. With a pop, the button fly snapped

open, and there was one less layer of clothing separating them.

"Leo," Jed managed to gasp out. "Could you be a dear and suck me

off?"

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Leo shook his head. "Nope." He

pushed Jed to the ground, and rolled over to straddle his hips. "I'm

gonna fuck ya."

Jed slapped Leo's chest playfully. "Don't be crude."

"I thought you liked it," he retorted, tugging away at Jed's pants.

He paused for a moment to pull a tube of lube out of his pocket. At

Jed's amused glance, he muttered, "Used to be a Boy Scout. 'Semper

Paratus', and all that crap."

With a sudden heave, Jed shoved Leo off him and to the ground. Before

the chief of staff had time to react, Bartlet was on top of him,

grabbing the tube out of his hand. "I've got a bad back," Jed stated,

holding the tube in the corner of his mouth while working Leo's pants

off. "Can't exactly get into those acrobatic positions anymore, you

know. Now roll over."

"But-"

"That's an executive order, Leo. Roll over, and get on your damn

knees." It didn't take much more prompting before Leo was on his

hands and knees, ass facing Jed. He could feel the coolness of the

lube being rubbed, massaged into him, and suddenly there was a cock

being rammed deep into him, hot, wet and hard. He couldn't help but

gasp at the abrupt intrusion, but it was only a moment before he

started bucking backwards to match Jed's rhythm. A hand grabbed his

cock, started pumping him hard, and it wasn't too long before he came

with a yell. He heard a low growl behind him as the stars danced and

exploded before his eyes, and he felt Jed shooting his hot seed deep

within him.

But instead of the weight of Jed collapsing onto Leo's back, he felt a

sudden emptiness as his love withdrew. He looked behind him while at

the same time getting off his hands and settling on his knees. "What

gives?" he complained, looking cross as Jed pulled his pants back on.

"Get your clothes back on. We're sitting in a pile of pine needles,"

Jed instructed, buttoning his fly.

Obediently, Leo started to pull his jeans back up. "But I'm all

sticky."

"Would you rather be sticky, or get a tick on your dick?"

Leo pulled his pants up quickly. As soon as they were back on, he

crawled over to where Jed was leaning up against a wide-trunked tree.

Sidling up beside him, he said, "That's pretty damn funny."

"What is?"

"'A tick on your dick'. It rhymes."

Bartlet looked at McGarry incredulously for a moment before chuckling

a bit. "C'mere," he ordered, pulling Leo to him. Nestling his face

in Leo's hair, he murmured, "Love you."

"Mmm," Leo concurred, resting his head on Jed's shoulder, eyes

drifting shut, one hand on the President's thigh. "Jed?"

"Yeah?"

"What, exactly, did you trip on, anyway?"

"Dunno. Tree root, I guess."

"Mmm. 'Kay. We need to give it a Medal of Honor." Within moments,

Leo was asleep, curled up next to Jed.

Surveying the wooded and mountain-enclosed surroundings, Bartlet

leaned his head against the tree trunk and smiled to himself. He was

on the verge of drifting off when he heard what he thought were

voices. Looking around, he saw Agent Ron Butterfield on the trail

above them. He waved at the agent to get his attention, then put his

finger to his lips to signal them to be quiet.

Ron came skidding down the slope much in the same fashion that Leo had

come down. "When you didn't come back on time, sir, we started a

search," Butterfield explained quietly, conscious of the sleeping

chief of staff. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Licking his lips, Jed nodded at Leo. "He tripped."

-end-

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