First Monday ficlet, caps, poll

[trinityofone]

First Monday the show keeps getting worse and worse; Joe Flanigan's role in it, however, just gets better and better and better. siriaeve posted a review in screencaps of Julian Lodge's most recently posted antics; I adore John Sheppard, but The Flan has forever earned my devotion for giving the world this character as well. I love his pretentious little bowtied self! So does Siria, and as we have this—AND OUR HETEROSEXUALITY—in common, I wrote her some Julian!fic.

Julian Lodge Is Not Gay

Getting your dick sucked by a man didn’t make you gay. Julian knew this. A quick blowjob in an alley or in a dirty bathroom stall, fucking into an anonymous mouth while you closed your eyes and your fingers scrambled against the brick or the tile—that was just a way to relieve tension, reduce stress. It was worth it; anything that made him better at his job was worth it.

But it didn’t make him gay. Men were easier than women, that was all. They didn’t need to be romanced. The queers—the real ones, the ones on their knees—they sucked dick because they liked it. If you did the courteous thing—and that didn’t make you gay either, because it was just that, simple courtesy; if you did the courteous thing and jerked them off after, or let them rub off hard and fast against your thigh—well, that was all they needed to make them happy.

And Julian himself was happy enough with the whole arrangement. After all, a mouth was a mouth, and in the course of his work he’d gotten his hands dirty with far fouler things. What was another man’s come, splattering across the legs of the pair of trousers that just that morning he’d had carefully pressed? Or his quick, clever hands (he’d gotten where he was, head clerk, because he had always been the most efficient) quick and clever to another purpose, moving slickly up the shaft. Or a mouth on his neck, starched shirt collar shoved carelessly aside, licking and sucking and biting at the hollow of his throat. The scrape of stubble against the inside of his thigh.

It didn’t make him gay.

(Not like—not like that one time, drunk, head spinning. He’d taken the man back to his apartment and sunk to his knees on the hardwood floor, just inside the front door. He could remember gripping the man’s strong thighs and mouthing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He’d wanted— and then he’d had it, free of all restraint, kissing up the side from hilt to tip, then sucking it slowly into his mouth, nearly sobbing from relief and rock hard, dick straining against his fly, thrusting his hips in time with those of the man whose cock he was sucking—oh God, the cock he was sucking—and it was so good, so good; and thank God the man came, came right in Julian’s mouth, and he swallowed it all down, thank God: because otherwise Julian might have asked him to fuck him.)

It wasn’t like that. Julian wasn’t...like that.

His back ached from standing straight all day.

---

There needs to be more fic about Julian! For example, I want to write the story where he opens up about his gayness a bit and goes to work for the Log Cabin Republicans and is mostly very disheartened and discouraged, except for when he's having sex with his hot boyfriend who looks like David Hewlett. Um, and eventually he gives it up and becomes a Democrat, because this story is a fantasy, okay? A fantasy with bowties. Work with me here. But! Who should Julian's hot sex-giving boyfriend be?

[Poll #728623]

ETA: OMG! notpoetry wrote me Julian/Josh! My life is joyful now! *happy sigh*

Comments

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

*UNCONTROLLABLE ARM-FLAILING*

If you don't write the story where Julian starts working for the Log Cabin Republicans and then Josh Lyman shows up at Julian's office to do his political attack-dog thing, and they wind up doing a slow, awkward, confused courtship dance for months in the guise of political negotiations, and then Julian sleeps with Sam Seaborn, who he thought was just going to be an anonymous fuck in a bar, and the Josh finds out somehow and Julian realizes that Sam is the one Josh is after in the end, and meanwhile political relationships are becoming tense and strained and there's so much at stake now, and Julian is torn between using this information to take down Josh, because earning a victory for the Republicans is what his job is, in the end, and who cares how he accomplishes it -- but he genuinely likes Josh, even if he is a Democrat who keeps talking about Social Security in bed.

And so Josh goes after Sam, and leaves Julian, and just as Julian is coming to the decision to play old-school dirty politics against Josh, he meets David Hewlett, who's a very sweet Canadian actor working stage shows in D.C. to raise money for Doctors Without Borders, and these goddamn Democrats just won't leave him alone but Julian is starting to like them, maybe, just a little.

[trinityofone.livejournal.com]

Oh, man. I wish I had watched The West Wing more closely, because Josh/Julian would be EPIC. Someone should write it FOR me! *hints unsubtly, at you and flist in general*

*cuddles fundraiser!Hewlett*

this is all your fault, pt 1/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

Man. I'm just. See, I watched First Monday when it aired, because I'm a giant fucking dork like that, and I thought that it could crossover really well with The West Wing at the time, and -- and --

"Donna, you would've warned me if today was Big Block of Cheese Day, right?"

"Eight months three weeks five days," Donna says, without looking up from the planner in front of her.

"Just checking." Josh slaps the doorframe and turns back to his office. "And yet, there's still a crazy person in my office." The aide sitting in the chair in front of Josh's desk just smiles at him tightly. "Okay, Mr. Lodge. Run this by me just one more time."

"I work for Congressman Skinner," he says slowly, like Josh is a stupid child. "He wants to negotiate with you about HR-362."

"Not on the table," Josh says, and swings into his seat. He folds his hands on the desk and leans forward. "Skinner's pretty aware of that, I'm sure, considering the phone conversation I had with him, oh, three hours ago."

The aide grimaces at Josh, and Josh gives him a bright, sunny smile right back. "Wait a second, I know you," he says. "Julian Lodge, right? The lawyer."

"Ex-lawyer," Julian says through gritted teeth, and Josh never loses his grin.

"Right, right," and he flips through his day-planner like the life and times of Julian Lodge is written in indelible ink there. "Ex-Supreme Court clerk, ex-right wing whackjob --" and Julian stiffens in the seat across from him. Josh lifts his head and laughs through his teeth at the man, then looks back down at the planner. "Current Log Cabin Republican and, if the rumors are true, the current champion of self-loathing." He flicks the planner shut and leans back in his chair. "HR-362, huh?"

"Yes," Julian says through gritted teeth. His hands are curled into fists on top of the chair's arms. God, he's so green -- Josh could whip him at poker, at croquet, at politics. Josh is whipping him. The man couldn't bluff to save his life.

Josh has law school friends who clerked with Lodge at the Court, and he remembers the buzz when Lodge took the aide job with Skinner's office; everyone considered it his official "coming out" announcement, or as close as he would ever come to one. Congressman Matthew Skinner, R-OH, is a dedicated spokesman to the cause of gay rights, and Josh respects that, while simultaneously wishing the man would clam up and make his job a little easier. Josh has his suspicions about why Lodge would leave such a cushy job, one likely to catapult him straight to the top of whatever private-sector law firm he let wrap its tentacles around him, and those suspicions have everything to do with the fact that it's a-okay to be gay in Washington, so long as it's not a secret. Josh knows that rule by heart.

this is all your fault, pt 2/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

"Listen." Josh leans forward and spreads his hands out flat on the desk. "I don't like HR-362 any more than you do, or Skinner does. I think it's a sick proposal and if I had more faith in the current Court lineup I'd say we'd get it declared unconstitutional approximately four minutes after it was passed into law." Josh sees Julian's eyes flicker to the side at the mention of the Court, and makes a mental note of it, to pry and twist and use that later. The man is so disgustingly easy.

"It shouldn't even be on the floor," Julian says. "Congress has no business legislating --"

"The personal lives of American people, yadda yadda." Josh flaps a hand, then slaps it to the desk. "It's the same song and dance, okay? Matt Skinner knows that -- they did this two years ago, they're doing it again, it's like the House's version of Prom or something: put on a pretty dress, make a lot of noise, get a bunch of pictures of you taken, and then everybody forgets about it two weeks later."

"Why isn't the White House stepping in?"

"Politics doesn't work that way." Josh pokes a finger at his temple. "You're smart. I know people who know you, and they say you're smart. But you've got the IQ of a deck chair if you think showing up here in some official capacity is going to make the White House agree to be the Log Cabin crew's standard-bearer. Not last time, not this time, not next time. And absolutely not in an election year."

Julian's mouth twists to one side -- and Jesus but it's a pretty mouth, and Josh's mind veers off down the hall, around the corner, down another hall, and into the Communications bullpen where Sam is sitting at his desk, chewing his pen and shredding another legal pad. Josh drags himself back to the situation at hand, but there's a look on Julian's face that makes it clear he's been caught -- even if Julian isn't sure at what, yet. Josh's fingers clench on the edge of his desk. He will not be messed with by a Congressman's daschund pretending to be a political pitbull.

Julian opens his mouth to say something and Josh lifts his hand. "Stop. No. Let it go. If you fight this, you'll have to fight the next one, and the one after that, and then you're like the lone Athenian soldier chucking spears at the Spartans, and that's just not going to end well."

"I'm picking our battles," Julian says stubbornly. "I picked this one."

Josh exhales, closes his eyes, thinks about Sam again, don't tread on me, and then opens his eyes and looks at Julian, really look at him, ramrod spine and houndstooth jacket and a slightly-crooked bowtie, underneath that stern expression that's really only playing at being sure of anything. Josh knows it too well. "Julian," he says, standing up and holding out his hand, "let it go. Really. Thanks for coming by."

this is all your fault, pt 3/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

Julian stands up and shakes Josh's hand, then tightens his grip and leans in. "This is a dangerous one," he says softly. "It's different. The language is broad, unclear -- it'll castrate any political power the Stonewall Dems and the Log Cabin crowd have gained in the past twenty years. Why should we let them have this fight?"

"Because there are more of them than us," Josh says, and Julian's face splits into a grin. He lets go of Josh's hand.

"Thanks for the meeting, Mister Lyman," he says, and picks up his briefcase. He casts a glance over his shoulder as he goes through the door, and Josh catches a smile crinkling the corner of Julian's eyes, and then he's calling out a good afternoon to Donna and his footsteps are fading away.

And that's when Josh realizes it: he's been played like a tin horn. Julian Lodge, the greenie, the weiner dog to Josh's Doberman, has schooled Josh at his own game. He barks out a surprised laugh, then drums his knuckles on his desk, laughs again. "Donna," he shouts. She rolls her chair to the doorway. "Get me Congressman Skinner on the phone, would you?"

this is all your fault, pt 4/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

===

"Nice of you to meet me," Julian says, and pulls out Josh's chair for him. Josh stops, looks down at the chair, then back up at Julian. He shrugs, then sits down.

"It got me out of the office. And I firmly believe that there is such a thing as a free lunch."

Julian grins again -- every waitress in a thirty-foot radius suddenly swoons -- and sits down across from Josh. "Really? I thought everything had its price."

Josh twists his mouth to the side and picks up his fork, levers it back and forth with his thumb over his index finger. "And your clumsy attempts at metaphor end … now."

"Right." The waitress appears as if summoned via magnets and flirts with Julian outrageously, but it takes Josh a moment to notice the fact that she's almost sitting in his lap, because he's so used to Sam and his uncanny ability to attract anything with two legs. They order sandwiches and the waitress sashays away with only one longing glance thrown over her shoulder. Julian arranges his napkin in his lap, then props his elbows on the table and leans forward. "So what would you say if I told you I lied on the phone?"

"This is a privileged conversation," Josh says immediately, and Julian nods. Josh's mind flips through the rolodex of reasons why Julian might have lied on the phone -- when on the phone, half an hour ago when he invited Josh out to lunch to further discuss HR-362? or earlier, yesterday, the day before, the half-dozen times they've spoke on the telephone in the past week. "What did you lie about?"

"This isn't a political lunch," Julian says.

Josh relaxes. "Jesus, you get my hackles up so fast."

Julian grins at him, and Josh suddenly understands how those waitresses felt. "That all I get up?" he says softly. Josh's jaw spasms.

"Julian --"

He holds up a hand. "I know. I'm sorry. But …" He wraps his fingers around the water glass and Josh watches the condensation slide under his knuckles. "Really, Josh," he says quietly. "There are more of them than us, hmm?"

Josh closes his eyes. "This is bush league," he says to the insides of his eyelids. "This is dirty, back room, double-A farm-team-for-the-Kansas-City-Royals down-and-out bush league." He's gotten played, and now he's getting stabbed in the back for it. He can't believe he let himself stumble right into it. "What do you want?" He opens his eyes at looks at Julian, who actually looks … surprised.

"What?"

Josh gestures. "Let's get it over with. I slipped, then I'm assuming you went and dug up some dirt, probably something from college, maybe law school if you worked really hard, and now you're going to hand over some evidence you're carrying in your briefcase and lay down your terms. I want to hear them before I laugh at them."

this is all your fault, pt 5/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

The waitress reappears, sets down their sandwiches and looks like she's about to invite herself to eat with them, but Josh levels a glare at her and she scoots off.

"Josh." Julian sets down the fork he'd been playing with. "I don't have any dirt. Nothing from college, law school -- I didn't even look. I'm a Republican, not Richard Nixon. I don't have blackmail, or evidence, or terms -- or, well." He glances down to the side, then looks up and meets Josh's eyes. "Not unless you count me planning on asking you out to dinner."

Josh's brain hits the skids, hauls itself into a u-turn, and catches up with Josh's mouth two seconds too late for Josh to reconsider saying, "Friday at six?"

Julian looks shocked for a moment, but he recovers quickly and says, "The vote's at five."

"It'll be over by six." Josh takes a swallow of water and uses the pause to berate himself inside his head. "Trust me. It'll pass, and it'll pass fast."

"I know," Julian says, and slumps his shoulders, resting his head on the heel of his hand. "I hate this town."

"I don't know," Josh says, and picks up his sandwich. "It's not so bad."

They stick to lighter topics during lunch, and Josh finds out where Julian went to school, that he hates Dupont Circle, and that he'd rather chew broken glass than practice law again. Josh, for his part, only reveals whatever an anecdote about losing his White House ID four times in the first two weeks might say about him. He's just pleased that Julian laughed -- irrationally pleased. He's supposed to be immune to dark-haired lawyer-boy charm by now.

Julian pays for lunch, just as he'd promised, and walks Josh back to the White House. "It's on my way," he says dismissively. Josh stops walking, looks around at all the tourists telling each other the urban legend about the electrified White House fence, glances up Pennsylvania at the Capitol building, a fair hike away, then raises an eyebrow at Julian. "Maybe a little out of the way," he admits.

Josh shoves his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat to restrain himself from ruffling Julian's hair. The man is only a few years younger than Sam, but looks at least a decade younger -- the bow ties might have something to do with it. He's like a kid dressing up in his dad's clothes. Josh keeps wanting to treat him like a college kid. A college kid he kind of desperately wants to have sex with. "This isn't going to happen if you're this unsubtle all the time," he tells Julian.

Julian mirrors the eyebrow-raise back at him. "Hey, we're not currently making out in the middle of Pennsylvania Ave, I consider that subtle."

Josh tilts his head back and laughs. "Oh, very good, very honest. We'll make a Democrat out of you yet."

"Thanks, I'll pass." But Julian ducks his head and grins at him. "No kissing in the park, huh?"

"Not in broad daylight, anyway." Josh bumps his shoulder against Julian's, then makes for the entrance. "Thanks for lunch," he calls over his shoulder.

Julian waves and shouts back, "Friday at six." Josh shakes his head, laughing behind his teeth, and goes back to work.

this is all your fault, pt 6/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

(And then they go out for dinner after the vote, which was lost and HR-362 passes, and they make out a lot in the cab back to Josh's apartment, and Josh blows Julian up against the door, and Julian clutches at his hair a lot and mumbles things like, "god right yes just like that," and "fuck me, I want you to fuck me," and Josh takes Julian at his word and they stagger into Josh's bedroom and have age-defying athletic sex, and Julian spends the night only to be woken up at seven the next morning when Josh gets simultaneously paged and telephoned, and then someone's knocking at the door. Josh jumps out of bed and hauls on his pants and tells Julian to stay put, for the love of all that's holy, and Julian gets out of bed and is buttoning up his shirt and half-listening to the conversation Josh is having with a male someone in the living room. He starts really listening when he hears "HR-362," and when the male someone says, "Danny Concannon is running the story on Sunday. He's giving us the heads-up. There's probably more, but all they've found right now is that it looks like Whitfield, Homer, Lacey, and Dunbar," and then Josh says, "They were all bribed to pass it?" and Julian yelps, "What?" and the male someone says, "What the fuck --" and Josh yells, "Julian, you idiot," and Julian grabs his bow tie off the floor and drapes it around his neck, trying to tie it while walking out to the living room and saying, "I told you there was shady dealings --"

And the vaguely-familiar male someone says, "Who the hell is this?" and Josh slams his hand to his forehead and grits out, "I'm going to kill both of you, and then myself, and then maybe that'll be the lead news story instead of another fucking congressional scandal," and Julian introduces himself because he figures it's all shot to hell anyway, and finds out that the male someone is named Sam, and then it clicks in Julian's head that he picked this guy up once, two years ago or more, while he was still clerking, and he sees Sam's head jerk back and his eyes widen the instant he realizes it, but he thankfully stays silent. And Josh is yanking out his hair and trying to tie his shoes at the same time, and then Sam drives Josh and Julian out to the Hill in what is the most uncomfortable car ride of Julian's life.

this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

And then it's six days straight of work and work and work and trying to fix whatever disasters his boss causes, on accident or on purpose, and a week after they slept together Julian calls Josh and says, "So it's probably not a good idea to keep seeing each other, huh."

There's a long pause, and then Josh says, "Ah, no, but the part where you outed me to my best friend, that part will remain with me forever."

"At least you'll never forget me," Julian says, and Josh laughs, and Julian hangs up and goes back to work.

And about a month later he's at a fundraising shindig and meets a nice gentleman in a tuxedo, who shakes his hand and introduces himself as David, an actor, and would Julian maybe like to donate some money to Doctors Without Borders, and twenty minutes later Julian is blowing David in the men's room.

And Sam jumped Josh about two days later, when nine Republican congressmen simultaneously announced their resignations after being implicated in a bribe-taking scandal.

David and Julian moved to Canada, where Julian opened a pro-bono law practice and started writing a novel, and Sam and Josh had pretty good lives too, though not nearly as far north.
And they all lived happily ever after.)

WHY AM I ALWAYS DOING THIS IN YOUR JOURNAL, JEEZ. I'd blame you, but really, it's all my fault. Thanks for being so crack-tastically inspirational. Hee.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[trinityofone.livejournal.com]

OMG YOU ARE MY FAVORITE FAVORITE PERSON EVER EVER EVER *pant* EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER, and you make me want to be inspirational always, and also, buy you a pony. I love this story. I love it forever and ever. *happy sigh*

You should totally post this to sga_6degrees, and people should read it, and bask in the rightness of it, and write more more Julian, omgyay.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[notpoetry.livejournal.com]

Ahahaha. I will never say no to people buying me ponies!

I might post it to sga_6degrees. I'm currently beating my kink/cliche challenge with a two-by-four, so maybe that'll be my reward for, you know, writing something I'm supposed to as opposed to CRACK FIC THAT IS ALL TRIN'S FAULT. <3 <3 I say it with love, but you are some kind of crack dealer, that is all I am saying.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[randomeliza.livejournal.com]

YOU ARE TOTALLY MY NEW FAVOURITE PERSON EVER.

Seriously, how are you so awesome? That's just... perfect. Gah.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[sarren.livejournal.com]

Wow, that's totally how it should happen! So cool.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[dancinguniverse.livejournal.com]

You are so adorable, this was wonderful. yay for spontaneous comment fic.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[cathexys.livejournal.com]

This was utterly brilliant!!! Especially with my OTP endings :-)

I loved this Josh and the way he contantly misjudged Julian and if there's anything wrong with the fic it's that we didn't get the sex and the Sam discovery scene in all its gory details...but I'm so happy with what you did give us!

Thank you so much!!!

And thank you, Trin, for giving us denial!julian and encouraging great Xover pairings!!!!!

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[busarewski.livejournal.com]

What a comment fic! So much love for Julian and Josh and the outing of Josh to Sam and just everything. Loved this.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[charlidos.livejournal.com]

Ahhh! Bless you! This is great. :D

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[wickedrabbit.livejournal.com]

oh huzzah. This reminds that I need to be watching West Wing and is also FANTASTIC fun.

Re: this is all your fault, pt 7/7

[sage]

This was wonderful!!! :D