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Prompt # 86 - (West Wing: Toby Ziegler/Sam Seaborn) [Mar. 6th, 2006|08:53 am]
The Ultimate FanFic Challenge!
fanfic100
[writeslikeyoda]
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This was my very first Sylum fic written back in September 2005.  It seemed fitting to repost it as a way of kicking off the Toby/Sam 100 fic challenge.

As per usual please read all the notes first!

Thank you kindly!!

Title: Nothing Else Matters

Fandom: The West Wing

Characters: Toby Ziegler/Sam Seaborn

Prompt: 86 - Choices

Word Count: 6361

Rating: FRAO, m/m slash, some swearing…if the concept of a m/m relationship or m/m slash squiks you out or causes you any kind of offence then please do not read this any further!!

Author’s Notes: Written in the first person from Toby’s PoV. This is a SONG FIC and an AU set in bjjones’s Sylum Clan, which is a multi fandom crossover universe based around the concept that Vampire exist not as demons but as a derivation of the human genome. Toby and Sam are basically the same characters working at the White House, but they are Vampires, and as such are bondmates…souls destined to be together. This fic is considered to be Sylum Canon.

Notes #2: Sam’s losing his race for Congress, and his friends are just making things worse. Toby finds reunion with his bond mate isn’t easy, and Sam discovers some fears can be hard to overcome, when you’ve been carrying them with you for centuries. This fic is set in and around the West Wing Season 4 episodes ‘The California 47th’ and ‘Red Haven’s on Fire’

Song Notes: ‘Nothing Else Matters’, written by Hetfield/Ulrich, published by Creeping Death Music, performed by Lucie Silvas from the album ‘Breathe In’, 2004.

So close no matter how far
Couldn’t be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
Cause nothing else matters…

We’ve been apart for too long, separated by a decision I’d had no part in making, and events I can do nothing more to control. I feel Sam’s exhaustion, depression and anxiety. The bond between us is so much stronger now we’re together once more, so I know he can feel the anger that fills me when I see how this is all falling apart for him.

The frustration roils in waves from my mate, and I long to be near him, to hold him, to put right this whole mess and keep him from the vultures already circling his campaign.

CJ said Sam was looking youthful and energetic. “Do we have anything he can jump over?” she asked, with a smirk on her face, and it was all I could do to keep from grabbing Sam right there on the beach and fucking him into the sand in front of the press. To be this close to him and yet not be with him is slowly driving me insane. Its like some form of ancient torture, not being able get a moment alone, but Sam is every inch the professional political operative not showing any outward sign of the desperate need I’m certain he’s feeling.

Six hours later, and I swear to God there’s still sand in my shoes, and if CJ sings me that damn song one more time, I’m gonna box her up personally and see to it the 82nd Airborne drops her over Havana, right in Castro’s lap! I hate the outdoors; I wasn’t exactly built for it, but on the plus side, the California sunshine has given Sam a healthy tan. It’s a good look for him, one I’ve only seen on him once before when he went yacht racing…and nearly drowned himself falling overboard…

But, I’d rather not dwell on what I went through the day I heard that particular story…

I can’t stop Sam from blaming himself for all mistakes we’ve made here since coming out to help his campaign, and I can’t bear the self-doubt he’s enduring.

He’s trying to hide it from the rest of us, but I sense it anyway. Its even worse than struggling to write a ‘State of the Union’ together, or questioning the grammar and syntax for a policy speech. We’ve come through those crises side by side, better, wiser, sharper, yet still no matter how hard I try to get us a little time alone, events conspire against us…

…Holcombe’s self-interest
…hostages in Kundu
…finance meetings with Amy Gardner
…breakfast with the press
…calls from Will Bailey

I blame Will Bailey for getting a dead Democrat elected in Orange County to begin with, then walking away from it to leave Sam fending for himself with strangers; none of whom could find their own asses with both hands and a flashlight!

I should have never agreed to letting my mate do this. I should have argued the insanity of running a ‘live’ Democrat in Orange County, but then again, Sam’s not exactly ‘living’ any more either. Its irony like that, makes me reach for the scotch.

I blame Congresswoman Wyatt too, for showing up on Air Force One and demanding more of my time than I could reasonably give. She’s using the twins for political capital, knowing that as a vampire the instinct to protect my own flesh and blood is that much stronger now, and will drive me to protect her too, even from herself.

She understands what I’ve become, and she knows about Sylum. After all, there was just no way to keep that big a secret from the mother of my children, but she barely even blinked the night I sat her down to explain it. “Just be a father to your kids,” was all she said.

Its Sam she can’t yet accept, but she can’t keep the two of us apart, no matter how hard she schemes, or how many drunken Republicans throw misplaced punches at me in defence of their own peculiar moral code!

I never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we do it our way
All these words I just don’t say
Cause nothing else matters…

Finally we had only the Chamber of Commerce Banquet to get through, then Sam and I could have nine hours to ourselves; nine whole hours to renew our bond, to be together as one, to remember who we are, and why we are.

But yet again there’s frustration trying to divide us; anger sparks so quickly, like firecrackers on the fourth of July, and we’re at each other’s throats…only not in a good way. I couldn’t let him into the banquet like that.

Sam was lost, scared, confused, no longer in control, but drowning in denial. I felt it all as he stormed on ahead of me to the hotel bar. He was letting loose, and I couldn’t stop him. Can’t he feel how much I love him, how much I want to protect him from the self-serving interests of Orange County Democrats?

Nick and Tony had both said it would be a mistake for us to be apart for so long, and they were right, ‘cause I can’t take Sam’s pain any longer.

I pulled open the door, bracing myself for another onslaught, and a tightly wound

“Hey!” greeted me.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that last part. You were walking all fast.”

“You packed the Office Park with bodies from Labor. AFL, Teamsters…” He cut straight through what I was trying to say. “It was like the cast of a James Cagney movie!”

I slipped my jacket off, just so I’d have something to do with my hands. Our bond only seemed to amplify Sam’s anxiety at that moment, and I could barely look him in the eye as he went on.

“The reason for the event was to talk to wired workers!”

“Didn’t want a half empty rally, and the wired workers are wired to Webb,” I replied sourly, brushing imaginary lint from my jacket, trying not to snap back at him and make matters worse. I sat down, but Sam wasn’t done.

“I’ve spend a third of the day in one-on-one’s with Planned Parenthood, Families America, AARP. You think those people are gonna vote for Webb on election day?”

“My bigger concern is that those people are gonna stay at home and do laundry on election day,” I said bluntly.

I couldn’t help thinking that Sam’s face really ought to be flushed with something other than extreme agitation, but I couldn’t decide whether to hit him or kiss him at that point.

“And now I’m supposed to go in to the Chamber of Commerce and do a chorus and two verses on ‘Titans of Corporate Greed’?”

His whole tone went up in pitch.

“Problem?” I quipped.

“It’s the Chamber of Commerce! The titans are the ones in the room!”

I blinked. Sam had said that with such timidity it was like watching a schoolboy about to get caned by his headmaster. Dear God, but that brought an image to mind I certainly couldn’t carry into the banquet next door…at least not without drawing considerable attention to the front of my trousers…

I gestured to the girl behind the bar. “Can we get a couple of shots and a glass of beer?”

“Yeah,” she replied smoothly.

Sam still wouldn’t sit down with me. I sucked in my lower lip and stared pointedly at my hands, hoping he’d realise I wasn’t prepared to take this conversation any further.

Finally pulling out a stool, he sighed heavily and sat down, shrugging in weary resignation. “I’m preaching to the choir,” he said sadly.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m saying you have me preaching to the choir.”

I nodded, watching him gesticulate. Oh Lord, but he can do such things with those hands… “Yeah,” I muttered.

“Why?”

“Because that’s how you get ‘em to sing,” I answered honestly.

“I can’t just cut any chance I might have for victory. The story’ll be ‘It’s over’!!”

He was desperate, yet so was I. I knew how calm him down, but doing that in a public bar would only get me arrested again, and I’ve already got a rap sheet in this county.

“No,” I said softly, “The story’s going to be that you had the guts to stick up for what you believe, and you didn’t cut and run.”

‘Like Will Bailey’ I thought bitterly.

Sam’s eye were boring into me fiercely, but I had to get the words out before he could interrupt me again.

“And people are gonna remember that. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

If my mate couldn’t hear the sincerity in what I’d said, then surely he must’ve felt it.

“I’m gonna lose.”

He didn’t ask it, he said it like statement of fact.

“Yeah,” I replied, unable to look for too long at the terrible hurt on Sam’s face.

“There’s no chance of a miracle?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

I couldn’t believe he even had to ask me that question! It lanced straight through me like lightning, more agonising than any physical blow could ever be. Didn’t he feel it too?

I had to remember that what I heard was his rage talking, not his soul. The campaign to get Sam into Congress was consuming him, and the walls he’d thrown up to protect himself were almost blocking me out too. That would explain why he couldn’t feel me through our bond, when I was sat right at his shoulder.

I stared down at the bar, knowing I had to choose my next words carefully. I couldn’t hurt my bond mate, but I knew I would, no matter what I said. I needed him to know he wasn’t alone any more. I needed him to know how much I love him. I needed him to know I was his, forever, and politics wasn’t going to keep us apart any longer.

“You’re gonna lose, and you’re gonna lose huge. They’re gonna throw rocks at you next week. And I wanted to be standing next to you when they did.”

Sam chuckled dryly, still not accepting the inevitability of the vote. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

In the silence that followed, it felt as though Sam finally heard me, and the truth suddenly hit him. He couldn’t deny it any more. The walls crumbled away.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” and when our eyes met once more I saw not the Democrat, not the politician, not the lawyer, not the speechwriter. I saw the brave young man who’d saved me from the slave markets; the scared young man I’d taken in the garden all those centuries before; the trusting young man Sam Seaborn truly was; my love, my life, my reason, my bond mate.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Really,” I replied.

His heart was breaking right there. I couldn’t just sit beside him and watch it happen, so I took him by the shoulder and pulled him into my arms, hugging him tight, holding him close, never wanting to let go. He was shaking, but having him there again, his hands on my back, his head buried against my neck made me whole…made us whole. I never knew a hug could be so potent.

Sam sighed. “I’m just getting creamed,” he muttered, “I’m just getting worked.”

“I know,” I replied, patting him gently on the back, “You’re not imagining it.”

We both managed a weak smile at that.

Neither of us wanted to pull away, or release the other and break that fragile physical contact, but the bartender was approaching with our drinks.

“Thanks,” Sam said to me softly, and I felt a surge of love so incredibly powerful pulse through our bond from him, it nearly knocked me to the floor.

“I don’t know if you guys heard,” the bar lady said, “It was just on the news. There was a terrorist bombing in Africa at an army base.”

“Yeah, we heard,” Sam said quietly.

I clutched at my glass. Words failed me. All I wanted then was to bask a while longer in Sam’s affection, but there were politics in the way again, clammering for our attention, when we should have been focusing solely on each other.

“We should get back to work,” Sam said carefully.

I raised my drink. “God save the President of the United States…and Sam Seaborn.”

I clinked his glass and we drank together solemnly. We’d feed later on to get the alcohol out of our blood, but for that moment in time, we both needed a little fortifying.

I glanced up at my bond mate. His hair was slightly tousled from our embrace, just as it gets when I run my hands through it making love with him, and I wanted nothing more than to take him upstairs, strip him of that tuxedo, and ravage him into forgetting everything else in the world but me. The trouble was that I couldn’t do it, not yet. There was still a an official banquet to attend, a speech to give, expectations to exceed.

“Lets go,” I said quietly, and Sam smiled at me, albeit a grim and weary kind of

smile, but at least his eyes were brighter, clearer, with a new sense of purpose.

I threw a few bills on the bar as payment, then followed him out the door, pulling on my jacket as I went.

“We’ll have nine hours Sam,” I whispered, on our way to the function room.

He didn’t want to go in, so I squeezed his hands for comfort and reassurance, then gently brushed his wayward hair back from his eyes.

“You can do this Sam. Don’t be scared.”

Never cared for that they do
Never cared for what they know…but I know…

I’m so very proud of him. A lesser man would’ve thrown up his hands and walked away after the conversation we’d had in the bar, but not Sam. He radiated confidence, authority, dynamism, courage and charm. Jed Bartlett was right, one day Sam Seaborn will be President of the United States, and I’ll be right there with him, giving him my love, my support, my strength; all the way.

A vampire in the Oval Office…now there’s an intriguing notion. I wonder if its ever been a viable possibility before? I’ll have to talk to Tim Speedle. If anyone’s going know, it’ll be him. Sam and I have a standing invitation to explore his library. I think when this California nightmare is over, we should take a vacation; head to New Orleans for a few days…stay at the Manor…put this whole Republican stronghold disaster behind us…

As he took the podium, Sam gave me a rakish smile that flipped my stomach over. I couldn’t wait much longer to be alone with him. Every fibre of who and what I am ached so much for his touch, it hurt.

I’d crafted Sam’s speech with him. It would be a hard one to deliver, we both knew that. We’d fought over it for most of the afternoon, but he spoke clearly and with conviction, espousing the policies we’d helped write, and the views of the White House we serve; carrying to Orange County Chamber of Commerce the full weight of the Bartlett economic tax plan, all the while knowing full well that every word was only alienating him further from winning the race for Congress.

Sam’s loyalty is amazingly fierce; it fires his belief in the work he does, and shines through every word he writes.

Part way through his speech he stopped unexpectedly at a pause not marked in the text. His eyes rapidly scanned the room for me in desperation, as though to reassure himself I was still there. A flicker of fear and dread reached me through our bond. I sent him back all the strength I possessed, but couldn’t tell what had cause him to falter.

When it was done and Sam stepped down, all I wanted was to take him away from there, but I got sidetracked by a fat CEO in a $2000 suit and a bad toupee, who stood in front of me waving a chubby finger, while ranting about Bartlett’s inability to abolish capital gains. Trouble was, I stopped listening after the first 3 seconds. My sole concern was for Sam, and the fat CEO was simply going to get knocked on his ass if he didn’t get out of my way!

So close no matter how far
Couldn’t be much more from the heart
Forever trust in who we are
Cause nothing else matters…

By the time I could turn my attention to the one place it belonged, Sam was no longer in room. I panicked. Not caring any longer what people thought about my behaviour or appearance, I raced out of the banquet, screaming for my mate through our bond. The elevator was agonisingly slow. Sam’s room was empty.

The only thing I knew for sure was that Sam was still scared, and when I stopped to focus on the emotions he was sending me, they lead me to him like following a beacon of light on a dark night.

He was in my room.

“Sam? Your absence was conspicuous.”

He stood with his back to me, staring out the window at the lights of the beachfront.

“I don’t care.”

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer me, so I approached him slowly, no longer able to stay away.

“Sam? Come on baby…talk to me…what’s wrong? What happened back there?”

When I touched him, the tension across his shoulders made him flinch, and his spine was so rigid it felt like steel.

“I realised what I’d said to you in the bar…when I questioned why you were here…how much that hurt you…”

Half sobs punctuated his words. His soul was in pain. I slipped his jacket from his shoulders, and threw it over the nearest chair. His bow tie was already loose.

“Sam, its okay.” I rubbed small circles over his back to try and relax him a little.

“Its okay.”

“No, no its not. I can’t live like this…without you…I forced you away so I could come here…its all my fault…”

“Sam?”

“Tobias,” he whispered, and then I understood. Hearing my full name, I knew he was having flashbacks to the past.

“Silius,” I replied, “please talk to me. Tell me why you’re scared.”

“I lost you…in the garden…I lost you…it was my fault…I should’ve made you stay…but I didn’t…I can’t lost you again because I said something so hateful…please Tobias…don’t leave me alone again…I can’t stand it…”

He was crying openly. There was no way I could let this continue by just watching his reflection in the glass, so I took him in my arms and held him close, letting his tears fall onto my jacket.

“I had to leave then…I could never live as another man’s slave. But I’m here now.

Right here Silius, and I swear to you I’m never leaving you…never. We’re bonded now…you and I, forever…remember? How could I leave you, you’re my life Silius, my heart. You complete me.”

I stroked his hair softly, and he snuggled against me, clutching at my shirt with desperate fingers.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry for everything…” he wept, “Please, please forgive me…”

“Sh…baby…its okay…there’s nothing to forgive. I love you…always…forever…and nothing can change that…nothing. We’re mated Silius…we’ll always be together, but we’ve got to renew that bond…”

Never cared for they do
Never cared for what they know
Never cared for they do no…but I know…

I made sure there’d be no interruptions, no phone calls, no disturbances. I can rely on Charlie to keep our privacy.

Stripping Sam out of his clothes, I could feel him tremble with every new patch of skin I uncovered. I think I was shaking too, not wanting to rush this, but at the same time overwhelmed by the need to claim my mate without hesitation or delay.

Kissing him was like finding the sweetest water after months of drought. His lips were warm against mine, parting freely to let me in, our tongues meeting through sighs and soft moans. Had I the need for breath, Sam would have left me gasping for air.

Still he was tense. I ran my hands up his back, caressing his flesh, trying to be gentle but almost tearing off his shirt in my eagerness to touch him. He pressed forward against me, his fingers scrabbling to pull away my jacket and tie. Simply from reflex he was breathing hard, panting with eager anticipation as he ripped at my collar, sending the small pearl buttons every which way across the room.

To feel his breath puffing out warm against my bare neck, nearly had my knees buckling. I knew what he wanted. Though his bite was fierce, rough, to have his fangs sink into my flesh sent me over the edge too soon, and I came hard, with a hoarse shout that was ripped from my soul.

My knees did buckle then, but Sam held me up, licking softly at my neck to heal the bite he had made, and somewhere in the erotic daze my mate had induced, I remember wondering how I’d explain the stain on my pants to my dry cleaner.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered shyly in my ear, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh God Sam! You don’t ever have to apologise for doing that,” I replied, pulling back to find a sweetly innocent smile on his lips and the purest light in his eyes that shone from the vampire within.

I could feel the bond between us getting stronger, more powerful. It was like a tangible presence in the room with us and I knew that with each passing second

Sam was feeling it too.

“How did I ever lose sight of this?” Sam asked, guilt threatening to consume him again.

I kissed him by way of an answer, letting my hands roam through his hair and over his shoulders. He groaned, deepening the kiss, holding me so tightly I knew I’d have bruises by the morning. His hardness ground provocatively against my hip.

“I swear to you right now, I’m never gonna let it happen again Sam, never,” I murmured, when he turned his attention to my pants and belt.

He frowned, fumbling with the buckle. “I’ve missed you…I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered, finally freeing my zipper.

Somehow we managed to shed what remained of our clothing, though it was nothing short of a miracle that we eventually made it through into the bedroom.

I pushed him down on the spread, knowing I’d never be able to get enough of the man laying sprawled out before me. Truly he was a feast for the eyes, but I was going to do much more than just look at him.

I started with a kiss, sucking his lower lip between my teeth, pinning him to the bed with my body. He squirmed, but I wound my legs around his to keep him still.

He was mine.

I was doing the claiming now. He moaned into my mouth as I slipped my tongue against his. It would be so easy to lose all control, to hold him down and brutally fuck him senseless, but he deserved something better, tender,
more precious…

I licked slowly down his neck, stopping to explore his collar bone, while his hands ran over my flesh, tantalising me, scorching every nerve ending. Those clever fingers brushed my hips, gripping my buttocks, urging me to greater haste, pulling my body weight down against his throbbing hardness to give him the friction he sought.

I nipped at his earlobe, making him gasp.

“Not yet baby,” I whispered, “slow it down…we’ve got all night now…”

The sweat that glistened in a sheen on his skin only mirrored the heat burning through my own body. I lapped at his nipples, sucking each hardened peak into my mouth, gently at first, but with increasing urgency, and he bucked beneath me, whimpering in response.

His hands swept up my back, kneading at my shoulders for a moment. When he tried to push me back and roll me over, I wouldn’t let him take control, and with more speed and alacrity than I knew I could possess, I reached down onto the floor for my belt, swiftly tying those wandering hands of his to the top rail of the bed frame. I hadn’t planned to subdue him that way, yet he didn’t fight it. Instead, his whole body shook, and he cried out my name with something that sounded halfway between a prayer and a curse.

“Easy Sam,” I soothed, “let me take care of you.”

He responded to my kisses with the fiercest passion. I never knew anyone, or anything, could taste so good until my senses were heightened by the vampire nature. I could smell his lust, his need for me, his desire to mate, so potent and powerful it overwhelmed all logic and reason, drawing me into him until I lost sight of the boundaries that defined us as two separate men. We were one. We always were. We always would be.

He closed his eyes as I worked my way down his body with hands, lips and tongue. He hissed sharply when I traced a path over his stomach, and his muscles grew tight as I focused on his navel, licking away the beads of sweat that gathered there. The heat that rose from his skin was incredible.

I grabbed his hips, but there was no way to keep him still a moment longer, so I wrapped my fingers around his leaking cock and started to stroke the hot, hard flesh.

“Yes…oh Toby…yes…” he panted, “yes…”

His climax was close, so very close; I dared not tease or frustrate him another second. Straddling his legs, I bent low, wet my lips, and guided him into my mouth. That was all it took for him to come. He thrust upward sharply, giving a low trembling moan, and I swallowed hard, refusing to let him go until he softened on my tongue.

I glanced up to find his head thrown back, his throat exposed. He looked so very beautiful, lost in perfect sensual abandon, and I was the one responsible for doing that to him. It was overwhelming, and yet another irony in my life that I could only feel so truly alive, once I’d died…

“You okay?” I asked, and Sam sighed happily, snuggling down onto the spread, purring like well contented cat, but if he thought I was going to let him fall sleep just yet, he was definitely mistaken.

I was hard again, painfully, deliciously hard, desperate to fill my mate, to sink into his body and fully claim what was mine.

Stretching over to the nightstand I felt around for the items I needed; for with what constitutes remarkable foresight for someone like myself, I’d remembered to pack Sam’s favourite massage oil. It was something CJ once brought back from a trip to Italy with POTUS.

I’d found it on my desk the morning she got back. It wasn’t the small gift bag that caused the problem, it was the note attached to it, that spelt out in no uncertain terms just what the contents of said bag were to be used for. I mean, what exactly do you say to the President of the United States and his Chief of Staff when they interrupt you in the middle of reading something cleverly titled ‘The Vampire Karma Sutra’ and demand to know why you’re red faced and breathing hard at 8 in the morning when all you’ve done is walk from your car to the office?

Embarrassments aside however, it soon transpired that Sam adored the oil. He said it reminded him of our first time in that fragrant herb garden in Rome.

Trust I seek but I find in you
Everyday for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

Even with his eyes closed he knew what I was going to do the moment I unstoppered the bottle, and his slow, sexy smile said everything I needed to hear.

I kissed him then, swiping my tongue over his lips in a possessive gesture that allowed Sam to taste himself on me.

“You know what I want,” I murmured, hardly recognising my own voice, so thick with lust.

A tremor ran through my mate, soul deep.

“Yes Toby,” he replied, breathing out each word with hardly a sound. No mortal ear would ever have heard him.

He arched up off the bed to let me slip a pillow under his hips, then I warmed some oil in my hands as he settled back.

I couldn’t stop myself from literally pouncing on him, and he gasped at my first caress, his eyes fluttering open to watch me as I stroked firmly over his thighs, moving in and down, pressing on the smooth, soft skin, urging his legs to open for me, giving me access.

Sam soon understood, but still me made me work for it, until I had no choice but to grasp the crook of each knee and force his legs up around my waist. Sam could never make anything easy for me, in all the years I’ve known him, but still I adore him.

Our eyes locked on each other as with a little more oil I gently explored his most private places, teasing at that tight puckered opening until my fingers could ease past the muscle and slide inside.

Sam screamed my name at that first invasion, tightening around me fiercely, but I could give him no more than a fleeting moment to adjust before I pressed a second finger deeply into his body. I thrust back and forth to ease the way, all the while whispering urgent pleas for him to trust me.

“Toby…please…untie me,” he mewled, pulling desperately against my leather belt, already losing himself in the rhythm of my hand, “…I need to touch you…I want to hold you…Toby…please!”

His tugs at the bed frame grew more frantic.

I pulled away from him, to reach up and release his restraints, and to my horror, faint bruises were showing around his wrists.

“God! Sam! I’m sorry. I never meant for that to hurt you.”

“Sh, I’m fine,” he gasped, his hands already around my neck, pulling me down, sealing our lips in a deep, powerful kiss, cutting off anything else I might want to say.

But words began to fail me anyway.

When he finally allowed me to move again, I felt such passion thrumming through our bond, it was almost too much.

“Fill me,” he whispered, the head of my cock pressing at his entrance, “please…”

His words too began to fail as I thrust inside him, reducing him to grunts of pleasure and half formed syllables that meant everything and nothing at the same time.

The whole world constricted then, until nothing else remained but us. Sam was my world. His arms and legs wrapped around me, his body pressing tightly to mine, I took up a strong steady rhythm, all the while murmuring vows
of love and moaning his name.

He shuddered, whimpering when I found his prostate, my cock stroking that one small spot over and over, hard enough to give him pleasure, deep enough to make him beg for more.

I could feel his own erection starting to throb in the friction that built up between us. With oil still on my hands, I slipped my fingers around his already abused flesh and pumped him almost fiercely, knowing it wouldn’t take much for him to climax again.

“Look at me Sam,” I whispered urgently, “open your eyes baby…” and for once he actually obeyed me without question, letting me drown in the shimmering azure blue that reflected his vampire temperament.

His fingers were bruising my shoulders, but I didn’t care.

He opened his mouth to cry out, and I sealed his lips with my own, swallowing the scream that came from his release into my hand.

It tore a growl from deep in my chest to feel his warmth flood over me, and I sank my fangs into the soft curve of his throat, biting down, marking him, falling endlessly with him over the precipice…

So close no matter how far
Couldn’t be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
Cause nothing else matters

I’d fallen asleep with Sam in my arms, holding him safe from the world, his head on my shoulder, our legs entwined. I’d wanted to stay awake and watch over him; he just looks so young, so innocent when the cares of the day are swept away…but exhaustion crept up on me and I drifted off, quite content with my Sha-ul, my longed for one, resting at my side.

It was a soft, slow, sloppy kiss that woke me a little while later.

“Oh God…” I groaned painfully, “tell me we don’t have to get up yet…”

Sam smiled a warm, drowsy smile. “Hi,” he said quietly, his voice still laced with sleep. His eyes however, spoke only of lust.

“You’re staring,” I replied, cupping his face in my hands as his fingers splayed out over my chest.

“I can’t help it.”

“My face mashed into a pillow, I must look like a schlemiel,” I grumbled, self conscious and uncomfortable.

“No.” His answer was firm.

“So what d’you find so fascinating about this tired old man?” I asked carefully, struggling briefly with a sudden sense of inadequacy.

Sam felt it instantly. “Everything,” he answered, and just one kiss was all it took to sweep away my childish concerns.

“I love you Toby,” he murmured, “you do know that, right?”

I nodded, shivering as his tongue flicked repeatedly at my ear.

“Tell me you know that,” he demanded, “tell me Toby!”

“I know…I know you do…”

His fangs grazed the sensitised skin, making me gasp.

“Good, ‘cause now its my turn…roll over.”

Hearing only the husky passion in his voice, I obeyed, and for the longest time allowed myself to wallow without the slightest shame in his patient ministrations, as with the oil I’d left out from earlier, he caressed every inch of my back and shoulders.

I might easily have fallen asleep again, had it not been for his erection pressing firmly at my thigh.

“Sam…please don’t make me beg.”

His throaty chuckle was truly wicked, as with oil slicked fingers he slowly broached my body, stretching me, making me with quiver with anticipation.

“Oh God! Sam!”

He hovered over me, so very close, smelling of sex, and burning with hunger.

“Sam!”

“Its alright,” he muttered, turning me onto my side and spooning up behind me, “trust me…trust me to love you.”

He bent my leg over at the knee, and his left arm slid up my chest for support, holding me tightly to him, refusing to let go as the head of his cock pressed slowly inside me.

All I could do was hold on, and let him to take me, each thrust so incredibly tender.

“Don’t stop! Sam,” I gasped, “please don’t stop!”

Again with the low wicked chuckle. “Never,” he replied, but all to quickly the same need that first bound us in Rome drove him to greater urgency and he thrust harder, deeper each stroke hammering at the one spot inside me that would drive me crazy.

Dear God, was that really me making those sounds? Only Sam could draw such cries from my soul.

I reached for his hand at my chest, linking our fingers together, guiding him down to my now desperately hard cock, showing him what I needed.

“I love you,” Sam whispered and together we pumped my aching flesh in time with his thrusts, matching his every plunge inside me. “Let go my love…let it all go.”

He was panting once more, his breath warm on my neck. “Come for me Toby…come now!”

He moaned my name with a soft sob before biting down into my neck, pinning me there beneath him, and as I felt him come deep in my body, so I followed him to climax with a spiralling rush.

Sweating, limp, dazed, we lay there for a while, feeling the bond between us flex and grow. No words were needed after that. Our bond made the connection to innate understanding, without effort.

I know I must’ve protested when Sam pulled away, but he soothed me, gently lapping at my skin to heal the bite…

Cause nothing else matters

Sam snuggled up against me as though looking for warmth, and I could easily sense his anxiety at what he would be facing when the sun came up.

He didn’t know what his future was going to hold. He only saw his political credibility fading away and any chance at being taken seriously evaporating fast.

“We have more time than you can imagine Sam. You don’t have to do everything right this minute. If it takes a couple of hundred years to get this right, then you’ll be the best prepared and most experienced Democrat in history.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled that little boy smile, and nuzzled up to me, kissing my neck.

“One day Samuel Norman Seaborn, you’re gonna run for the Presidency,” I said, stroking his hair, trying to get him off to sleep, “and the day you take up residence behind the Resolute Desk, I’m still gonna to be right beside you. I expect to be made Chief of Staff, you do know that, right?”

He giggled. He actually giggled when I spoke!

I frowned. “Problem?”

“If I make it that far…”

I cut through his words quickly, “When Sam…when you make it that far.”

“Okay, when I’m inaugurated as President of the United States…” he giggled again, giving me a sweetly innocent look, “wouldn’t that make you the First Lady?”
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