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Winning the election was the second best day of Chris’ life.
It wasn’t hugely auspicious, not technically—watching numbers tick away on a computer never really was.
But what the numbers meant, that was what mattered. The thought of we won pervaded the consciousness of everyone in the room.
Chris sat down, hand over his mouth.
“We won,” he said numbly.
“Yes sir,” Sam said promptly, smiling broadly. “We did.”
“He’s gonna give his speech in fifteen minutes,” Leo informed Chris. “So if you want some… alone time, you better move fast.” Chris chuckled as he got to his feat unsteadily.
“Is this what it’s gonna be like from now on, Leo?” Chris asked. “Are you gonna schedule me in around him?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Leo said with a straight face. “Your husband just became the President of the United States, do you think he’s gonna have free time?”
“I knew there was a catch,” Chris called over his shoulder as he rushed out the door. The campaign staff, most of whom were soon to be senior presidential staff, laughed in his wake.
_____
“Do they actually have a name for your position?” Josh asked Chris curiously as they walked towards the President’s office for the morning briefing.
“It’s been debated a couple of times,” Chris replied, swerving around a cart laden with what appeared to be annual reports. “Are those the annual reports? Did they mention the census data? Are we going to discuss statistical—"
“No, they don’t, and don’t bring it up around any congressmen because we’re trying to avoid that issue,” Sam interrupted. “Also I heard there was some talk about ‘First Lord’.”
“I’m not the First Lord, that sounds ridiculous,” Chris said. “Though, you know, I could’ve had Mandy’s job.”
“We’ve been over this, sir,” Josh replied with a sigh, dodging around a harried looking secretary. “You can’t have Mandy’s job, the spouse of the President has their own set of public duties—"
“They are kept idle, Josh, don’t pander to me. They pick a pet project and they tote it around and they meet people and they look busy. I could’ve had a real job, I could’ve had Mandy’s job, I could’ve had Leo’s job—”
“Oh, that would’ve looked great to the nation,” Toby remarked sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Toby?” Chris raised an eyebrow, stopping to let what looked like an envoy of diplomats scurry past. “Are you making a remark about my professionalism?”
“I’m making a remark, sir, about the fact that the President fucking his Chief of Staff would’ve looked a bit like a conflict of interest to the American people, even if you are a strict professional.”
“Toby,” Chris began, putting his hand on the door that led to the Oval Office. “Firstly, I should have you fired based solely on the premise of the lovely image you conjured in my brain of my husband having sex with Leo McGarry, which was wonderful, thanks. Secondly, never refer to my relationship with the President in such a manner ever again, and thirdly, I know that, you don’t need to remind me, I’m just whining because I have to meet with Hilary in an hour and a half and the woman is insufferable.”
“She’s in our party, sir,” Sam replied.
“So is her husband, and look how well that turned out,” Chris said, opening the door and leading the four of them into the Oval Office.
“Fair point, sir.”
“Chris! Wonderful,” Sean looked up, smiling. “You’ve found Toby and Sam and Josh, I see.”
“I believe they kidnapped me here.”
“I do know what a constant chore it is for you to see me in the morning,” Sean replied, getting up and reaching out to catch Chris’ hand.
“I have a meeting with Hilary in an hour and a half,” Chris said with a grin, twining their fingers together.
“I don’t envy you one bit,” Sean said, “and I have a meeting with the Joint Chiefs.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Chris said dryly. “They’ll definitely enjoy and respect your absolutely no years of military service whatsoever.”
“Thank you for reminding me of that, I’m definitely not panicking over here.”
“You’ll be fine, Sean,” Chris replied. “Go, run your meeting, let the senior staff do their very vital, busy, and important jobs.”
“Conflict of interest, sir,” Toby called as Chris walked back towards the door. “The American people, sir!” Chris waved him off.
“I think, technically, it would have to be First Man,” Sam mused, as Chris left.
“That makes him sound like Adam,” Josh replied.
“Does that make me Steve?” Sean asked.
“Don’t even joke about that, Mr President,” CJ said, arriving. “We definitely do not want to start our White House tenure with ‘Adam And Steve Take Presidency’ headlines.
“We really do need to figure out the title, Sam’s right, though,” Josh said, as Leo entered from his office. “He almost single-handedly ran our online campaign, he deserves more than ‘the President’s husband’.”
“Getting away from the ‘First Something’ debate, what about giving him an actual staff position? What about Media Consultant?” CJ asked. “It was basically what he did for us during the campaign.”
“That’s Mandy’s job,” Leo said.
“He’d be good at Mandy’s job,” Sean remarked.
“Conflict of interest, Mr President,” Toby repeated.
“For whom, Toby? I’m pretty sure that, media consultant or not, we’d still have the same political views.”
“You’re married to him, Mr President, it’s a bit different than being a member of the campaign, he’s a member of your family. It’d be seen as nepotism.”
“He’s a brilliant politician and consultant, and he knows what he’s doing.”
“There’s no denying that, but he’s the First Husband, so that’s just tough, Mr President,” Toby replied.
“First Husband.”
“First Husband.”
“Yes, First Husband, and you two chuckleheads should learn these things, for godsakes.”
“Chris didn’t know.”
“He did know, actually, it just amuses him to see you act like idiots.”
“It amuses me too, though sometimes I ask myself why I put you in a position of power,” Sean said.
“Well, at least I didn’t refer to the President and the First Husband’s relationship in a vulgar manner,” Sam said.
“Sam,” Toby said warningly.
“Excuse me?” Sean asked.
“Well, technically he referred to the President’s and the Chief of Staff’s relationship in a vulgar manner,” Josh said with a smirk.
“Excuse me?” Leo asked.
“Toby!” Sean said.
“Sir, in context—“
“I don’t care about your context, Toby, I do not want you referring to my relationship with my husband in any way whatsoever unless it’s ‘they are a loving and caring couple that are united in bringing peace and justice to our country’, do you understand me?”
“How the hell was I even involved?” Leo asked.
“You really do not want to know,” Sam said.
“Doubtless,” Leo said. “You’re gonna tell me anyway after this meeting.”
“You’re all a PR disaster waiting to happen, so I’m telling you now I hate you all pre-emptively,” CJ announced.
“And with that, I think we should get this meeting started,” Sean said cheerfully.
______
“Are we doing this again?” Chris asked with a sigh.
“Absolutely, sir,” Josh said with unholy glee.
“You take secret pleasure in my pain, Josh,” Chris said.
“I would never, sir,” Josh said. “I do, however, enjoy making your staff feel colossally uncomfortable.”
“I like my staff, you know,” Chris replied. “They’re good people. And the Secret Service is vetted by the CIA. Several times. The security upon our arrival tightened ten-fold, and it was already pretty fucking tight what with the fact the previous guy our party had here was black.”
“We conduct our own investigations, you know that, sir.”
“I know you enjoy tormenting my people,” Chris said. “I’m not so sure about the investigations part.”
“You wound me, sir. I’m a professional.”
“Your clipboard says ‘Make one of them cry’,” Chris said dryly.
“That’s a regrettable typo, sir.”
“Of course it is,” Chris replied. “People!” he added, turning and addressing the room outside of his office at large. “Valued and trusted members of my staff. I want you all to know that I’m quite sure that you’re not homophobic bigots, and the fact that you have to prove that to Mr Lyman here today is both regrettable and insulting. If you are, at any point, offended by his investigation, I assure you that punching him in the face will not make you lose your job.” There was a scattering of chuckles from the people working in the neighbouring offices.
“Thanks for that, sir,” Josh said.
“You’re a bully and a braggart, Josh,” Chris said.
“Yes sir.”
“Being smug about that is not helping you, Josh.”
“Yes sir.”
“Go bully my staff, I’m going to go flirt with my husband now, Josh.”
“Do you feel absolutely comfortable saying that in front of every single member of your staff without fear of retribution or condemnation, sir?”
“Yes I do, Josh, and you wanna know why?”
“Why, sir?”
“I pay their salaries. If nothing else, I pay their salaries and I am married to their president, so I couldn’t care less if they’re uncomfortable with the idea that I’m gay. Which they’re not, because we have an extensive vetting process that you yourself are making gratuitous misuse of.”
“It’s Thursday, sir.”
“I hate you.”
_____
“You could always ask your friend Mark Zuckerberg for some money,” Toby said, referring to Chris’ musings on the deficit as they flew over Wyoming, off to yet another gala. Chris wasn’t technically supposed to be on the plane, but he was there because he hadn’t seen the President for practically two months, and the entire staff was meeting Sean at the event. Chris had threatened to fire every last one of them unless he had been allowed to come with.
Unfortunately, that meant Toby Zeigler and Chris Hughes in a small, enclosed space for six hours.
“Toby, do you take pleasure out of referring to my past in a snide tone?” Chris asked without looking up from the stack of paperwork in front of him.
“Absolutely not, sir,” Toby said.
“You know what I think, Toby?” Chris said, looking up. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“That would be categorically untrue, sir.”
“I think you like mentioning the fact that I helped create Facebook with my friend Mark Zuckerberg when I was 20. And do you know why I think that, Toby? Because you’re jealous.”
“Why would I be jealous of that, sir?”
“Because you dislike that it made us rich and famous and—how did he describe it, CJ?”
“It’s a place where all people do is talk about inane things, misspell everything, and play Farmville,” CJ replied.
“Yes, that’s it,” Chris said. “I think you view me in contempt, Mr. Ziegler.”
“I don’t view you in contempt, sir,” Toby said. “I just view your website in contempt.”
“My website revolutionised social media.”
“Actually, Myspace did that.”
“You wound me, Tobias.”
“Well, I’m not a multi-millionaire because I got drunk and bored and dropped out of Harvard.”
“Neither am I, but since we both know that Mark funded a large chunk of our campaign, I’m going to assume you weren’t talking about him, either.”
“It’s like watching cats fight,” Josh commented from two rows ahead of them, and Sam nodded.
“I’m sure they love each other, really,” Sam said.
“Shut up, Sam,” Chris and Toby said at the same time.
_____
Despite his argument with Toby about Mark, of his three former best friends from college, it was actually Eduardo that he saw the most.
“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m stalking you,” Eduardo said when he ran into Chris at the fourth high-level conference they both attended. “I’m just…” he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
“Trying to revitalise literacy and education for the lower class?” Chris said, nodding at the conference header. Eduardo laughed quietly.
“Actually, yes. My company does a lot of charity work in an attempt to bring our expensive technological media revolution to people who can’t necessarily afford it.”
“And they send you because you’re good when it comes to social media,” Chris finished with a smile. “So am I, as it turns out.”
Eduardo smiled back. “Yeah, I guess.” He bit his lip for a moment and then asked, “How’s… everything?”
“If you mean to ask how I am, well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m the First Husband. Of, you know, America. If you actually want to know how he is, I’m not actually the best person to ask anymore,” Chris said with a shrug. “He was fine the last time we spoke, though. He sounded tired, but he usually does.”
Eduardo looked away. “He never does get enough sleep.”
Chris sighed. “Wardo,” he said, and the nickname made Eduardo jump and snap back to paying attention to Chris. “Just go see him. Go to one of the meetings; I know you’re thinking about selling your stock, but see him first. Talk to him, and stop asking everyone else about him.”
“I,” Eduardo started, before looking down. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Chris said firmly. “If I have to fly you there myself. I totally have access to Air Force One, you know.”
Eduardo cracked a smile at that, but he still sighed. “He doesn’t want to see me,” he said.
Chris held back his immediate retort—that Mark asked about Eduardo just as much as Eduardo asked about him—and instead said, “Well, you don’t know that until you try, do you?”
“You sound like my mother,” Eduardo complained, but Chris just raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” Eduardo said. “I’ll… call him, or something. Even though I don’t have his number anymore.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I do, then, isn’t it?” Chris said, as he grabbed his phone.
Honestly, those two seriously needed to work out their goddamn issues.
Chris better be getting an invite to the wedding.
_____
“Chris!”
“Hello, Dustin,” Chris said, laughing as Dustin hugged him in the middle of the dinner party.
“I haven’t seen you in ages, man, it’s so lame,” Dustin said. “I can’t just walk into your house anymore, you have like, a million guards.”
“I’m married to the President of the United States, Dustin, it’s a bit more of a high security position than ‘Mark Zuckerberg’s press secretary’.” Dustin snorted.
“I know,” he said. “But I miss you man. You never call.”
“Well,” Chris said, “I could—”
“Yo! Dustin!”
“Josh!” Dustin said, laughing as Josh slapped him on the back. “Dude, how are you?”
“I’m great man, I’m great. Well, I could be better, because I just had to stand around and listen to that asshole Collins blather on about gun control and his civil rights, and I started contemplating my own civil rights and whether I could shoot him in the balls, but other than that I’m great.”
“I am constantly amazed they let you work here,” Dustin said.
“Yeah, so are the rest of us,” Chris said.
“Hello, Mr Hughes, sir, did not see you there. I’m just gonna, um, flee, now,” Josh said, and he strode away slightly unsteady and obviously drunk.
“…He’s still a better PR disaster than Mark,” Dustin remarked.
“Yeah, try telling that to CJ,” Chris said. “She never actually worked for Mark.”
“Ah,” Dustin said dreamily, “the naïve.” Chris snorted indelicately. “Is he dating Donna yet?” Dustin asked abruptly.
“Who?” Chris asked.
“Donna? Blonde chick, his assistant, hilarious, super attractive if you’re into that, which I know you’re not but still, and completely in love with him?” Dustin said.
“Um,” Chris said. “If he is, I would have absolutely no comment about unprofessional behaviour or dating your boss.”
“Weren’t you technically dating your boss when you worked on the campaign?” Dustin asked.
“No, because we worked together on the campaign, it was a team effort,” Chris said. “Also, we were married.”
“Uh huh. But don’t you do Mandy’s job now? I heard about how she quit, by the way, ouch.”
Chris shrugged. “I don’t officially have Mandy’s job. I just, you know, do her job.”
“Yeah whatever, all I’m saying is, you’re totally sleeping with America’s bossman.”
Chris grinned, glancing at where Sean was standing across the room, feeling the happy surprise and elation and wonder every time he realised I love that man, and he loves me back.
“Yeah,” he said. “I totally am.”
Marrying Sean Eldridge was, of course, the best day of Chris’ life.