Disclaimer: I don't make any money off this. The characters are the creation of Aaron Sorkin.

Rating: R, and a major SLASH warning

Note: Oh, the pain of deciding what to do with our dynamic duo of Josh and Sam. Do you go for angst, pure smut, mushiness, or something like realism? I think maybe I went for all of those to varying degrees. I hope you enjoy. Please review: I don't have a beta, and I don't get a lot of feedback on my slash stuff.

Refined

Josh thought it would be easy, the admitting things part. Because that was the problem, wasn't it? If he could get Sam to say it, to make the words come out, those words could never be taken back and everything would slide into place. It might take a little time to work out the hows and whens and wheres, but all the problems would burn out and all that would be left was a perfect picture of how he wanted their lives to be.

"I am not supposed to be alone," he said to himself, to his apartment. "He said he loved me, so I am not supposed to be alone."

The physical need was one thing—and he was a master at dealing with that frustration. Living with not touching Sam was such a natural thing to him that he almost didn't miss it. Except he had felt it now, felt himself sink into Sam's arms, felt a slow-building passionate kiss, felt his body react to Sam's as he knew it would. He had even felt Sam harden, so there was no denying it any more. But he told himself he could do without that.

The loneliness was terrifying. It was just as bad as he had always feared it would be. That fear had kept him silent for a very long time, so that a part of him cursed himself for speaking, for forcing the issue. It had torn things irrevocably.

"But I couldn't stand it anymore."

The moral high ground—whatever the hell it was, he thought—was not enough. So it had to be said. So what? That didn't stop it from hurting. He just wanted a chance to talk to Sam, that's all. To explain himself.

"Don't you think I'm scared too, Sam. Dammit, do you think I know how to do this? Don't you think some part of my brain is still telling me I'm not really feeling this way? All the women I've been with, I was lying then. Or I'm lying now."

But neither was the case, really. Josh saw women everyday that turned him on. He was also starting to see a lot of men that made him smile, made him struggle against his own skin and moan inwardly, thinking of what that touch could be like. A big part of him always rebelled at that, mainly because it was completely foreign to him. But it had started long before he felt that way about Sam, he acknowledged.

"But you are the only one that I thought was worth it, worth being scared out of my fucking mind, worth finding out if those feelings really are what I think and not just some…God, I don't know."

But he was no longer scared about that. Hearing the words from Sam, feeling Sam harden against his thigh, didn't seem so strange. It seemed right and inevitable, as if that were what was always supposed to happen. He had bounced through his life like a rubber ball—unhappy, unfulfilled, unwilling to stop—until that moment when Sam Seaborn's lips touched his and the world just stopped.

He pulled himself from the floor and began to pace. The rejection was too much. The only thing to do was drink—just a little, just enough. That would be the only way he slept at all.

A knock at the door woke him sometime in the night, his head still a little fuzzy. He hadn't really had that much to drink before he was so worn out and forlorn and fell asleep, and now the alcohol seemed to have dissipated into a headache and the remembrance of what he had escaped for a few hours. The knock sent him into a panic. What would he say to him?

But it was Donna at the door.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"I knew you'd be up."

"How? Do you have ESP now?"

"You're not mad at me, Josh, so don't treat me like shit because I want to help you."

"What makes you think I need you?"

"I know you're fighting with Sam."

"Big deal. We fight a lot. And last time I checked I don't need my mommy to clean up my wounds. I was asleep, Donna."

"Sam came to see me."

Donna was standing near the kitchen, looking motherly and concerned, and it made him want to hit something. She didn't know the half of what was going on. So he said, "So what."

"He told me why you're fighting."

"Did he? Well, that's funny. I'm sure he didn't tell you the truth. Whatever he said, he lied. He always lies. He always lies about what we're fighting about. Because the fight is never about what we pretend it is."

"Josh, he told me."

"What did he tell you this time? We disagree on the healthcare initiative?" Josh began to pace again, and he laughed bitterly. "Maybe we're fighting over Amy this time."

"He told me he's in love with you."

Josh shouted, then. Uncontrollably. "Fuck him! I don't care. So he finally decided we should come out of the closet. I don't care how many people he repeats it to. He'll never really believe it. He doesn't even fucking understand it."

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Do you understand it?"

"No, Donna, I don't. But I know I'd understand it a lot better with him than without him. Because it's about both of us. Does he think by avoiding me he can avoid it?"

"I think…and I might be wrong…but I think he's afraid."

"To have sex with a man. I know."

"No, Josh. He's afraid of you."

The blood drained from his face, and that hollowness, the hollowness all but displaced by the anger, settled in his stomach again.

"Why?"

"He's afraid of what sex will do to your relationship."

"That's bullshit. He told you that? If he does love me—if he does—that shouldn't scare him."

Donna stood and moved within a pace of him. "Can you stop being hurt and angry long enough to really see what's going on? You're a very intense person. I don't know all the details of what happened, but I can guess. You come to him, all passionate and severe, declaring your love, a love you probably told him you've known about for years, and he's confused. And he knows you expect something in return. But he's nowhere near as sure as you are of his feelings. He's afraid that you'll be disappointed in him. He knows you want him to be able to shout it from the rooftops, but he's nowhere near that point."

"He doesn't love me?"

"Are you this stupid? He's trying to be worthy of your love, Josh. He's trying to be what you want him to be. As unfair as it may seem to you, cut him some slack. Go over there and give him some reassurance. I've been at his house all night, and I can guarantee he does want to face this, he does want to understand this, and he does want to be with you. He's just confused and scared. It's such a huge thing to happen this fast."

"You're sure that's why he's freaked out?"

"We can't be sure of any of it, really. But that's what CJ seems to think, too."

"She's there?"

Donna smiled. "We decided to tag-team you two. One of us for each pacing, distraught man. We didn't know what was wrong, but we suspected."

"All along?"

"For a while, anyway. We're pretty observant."

"I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"A lot better if you would go talk to him."

"I need to sit down for a minute."

"Okay."

Josh sank into the couch as Donna perched herself on the armrest.

Josh asked her, "You really think he loves me?"

"If not, he's a remarkable actor."

Before the tears started rolling down his face, he reached up and put his arms around Donna. She smelled like Sam.

Donna drove him over, because his hands were shaking.

He was staring out the window, not really looking at anything. There was too much swirling around in his head, his heart.

Donna said, "You're awfully quiet. You okay?"

"Sure. I'm feeling like a sack of shit right about now."

"I thought I recognized your pensive and contrite face."

"I'm glad this amuses you."

"Josh, watching you try not to flirt with Sam and watching him flirt back without knowing it—that was funny. For a while. Now, it makes me a little heartsick to watch this whole mess."

"Once upon a time, everyone told me you had a thing for me."

"Well, this is a new Josh Lyman mood. Painfully blunt. Yes, I believe I did have a thing for you for a while."

"And?"

"And it's softened into admiration and a comfortable friendship."

"You're not jealous?"

"Of Sam getting you? No. I'm actually a little jealous that you get Sam."

"He is wonderful, isn't he?"

"Not to mention sexier than hell."

Josh could see what she was doing, plainly. She was trying to take his mind off things. So he said, "Uh huh."

Things were quiet for a moment, and as much as Josh wanted to break up the silence and prevent that fear from overtaking him, he couldn't think of a thing to say. He had to trust Donna's propensity for chatter.

He turned to Donna and she was smiling. She said, "I gotta know…see, I'm being really cool with this whole new Josh and Sam are gay thing—"

"Bisexual."

"Okay, the whole Josh and Sam are hot for each other thing. I was just wondering…well, all the girls pretty much agree on Sam's best asset."

"All the girls?"

"Me and CJ and all the assistants. Anyway, we think—"

"It's his ass, Donna. And you can tell CJ it's almost as nice as hers."

"You can tell her yourself. We're almost there."

Josh was startled to look up and see Sam's block.

"I can't go in."

"Oh my God, don't tell me you're scared, too."

"Is that so out of the question?"

"Yes. You can look Toby in the eyes on a bad day, you have a couple of the interns so scared they won't come into the bullpen, and I've actually seen you throw a report at the senate majority leader."

"It was the DNC guy, and he was a prick. This is different."

"I know."

Donna pulled up to the building and turned off the car, although she didn't get out, probably because Josh remained frozen in his seat.

"I don't how to reassure him. I don't even know how to reassure myself."

"It's easy. Just—"

Suddenly Josh's door was being pulled open. CJ was yanking him out of the car.

"Ow!"

"Damn right 'Ow!' He's breaking my heart up there because his heart is breaking, and if his heart breaks, Josh, I'm breaking something of yours. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Donna said, "CJ, he's scared."

"I don't give a fuck." She turned to him and said, "The man you claim to love is upstairs, and if you're too stupid to wrap him up in your skinny little arms and tell him he's the best thing you've got going in your sorry life, then you don't deserve him."

"CJ, I…"

She rolled her eyes, then her face softened considerably. "I know you have a big enough heart that you can swallow your pride and hurt. After all, you've had a lot longer to think this through than he has."

"Sure."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…Sam needs you be strong now. You have to be the hero for once, even if Sam would look so much more convincing as the knight in shining armor."

Josh smiled so big it almost hurt him, and he hugged CJ tightly.

"You're a good woman."

She pulled out of his embrace and said, "Will you just get the hell up there."

Donna squeezed his hand, and he opened the door and began the climb to the fourth floor.

As he rounded the last flight of stairs, he saw Sam waiting for him, sitting at the top of the landing. He didn't stand as Josh approached, but he kept his eyes on him until Josh was on the step below him.

Sam said, "I'm sorry. I just—"

"No. You don't get to feel bad about this. This is not about feeling bad, Sam." Josh reached out his hands. "Come here. Please."

They stood in an embrace for a very long time, and Josh wasn't sure whose heart he felt hammering. He moved off the stairs and toward Sam's apartment, pulling him by both hands.

When they were inside, Josh pulled Sam onto the couch so that the two were facing each other. Each hand slid over one of Sam's knees.

"Please look at me, because I have something to say to you," Josh said.

"I'm sorry."

"Dammit, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you felt like you weren't good enough for me. You are the only thing I've ever known in my life that's good and pure. I've been very selfish, taking for granted that you fit into my life without wondering if I fit into yours. I'm this egocentric freak. I'm not much to look at. I'm insufferable when I'm upset. I always fuck things up. I'm starting to wonder why you'd even want me."

"Josh."

"Shh," he replied, holding his fingers over Sam's mouth. "Know this: I am very glad you love me, whatever that means to you right now. I will let you set the terms and the pace and the definitions. I will do anything to make you a part of my life, if you can be brave enough to try this."

Sam pulled Josh's hand into his lap, stopping to kiss it first. "I was scared. I'm not as scared with you here. If you can manage patience—quite a feat for you—I can trust you."

Josh was so happy he was in danger of breaking down, so he mustered all the self-deprecating humor he had and said, "It looks like you're making me the boss here, and I gotta tell you…Did I mention I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean"—he looked down at their bodies—"the logistics of it all…"

"The way you put it, it's so romantic," Sam said, laughing.

"It's just that…" He finally played at frustrated indignation. "Okay, I know you've never made love to a man either."

"Well, I think if I stay this close to you, my imagination will do the thinking for us."

"Good. I mean, are you sure? Is it really good?"

"Let's see."

Sam held Josh's face in his hands and kissed him eagerly. Before long, he was leaning back and pulling Josh on top of him. When they broke the kiss, both panting and grinning, Sam said, "I don't think either of us has any real objection to being with a man."

"I have an objection."

"Oh?"

"You stopped."

Josh waited for Sam's reaction, and it was the one he wanted. He pressed himself a little closer to Sam, sliding his hand between their bodies, cutting off a moan—his or Sam's or both, he couldn't tell—with a kiss. It was something like burning; it was almost too much. But it seemed to banish the hurt he'd felt before, so that now all that was left was the clearest feeling he'd ever had.