Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Webb learns about one of the ways Palmer has been coping with life at the CIA.
Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Web Page: Mareen's Den, at: http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm making no money off this story.
This is a PWP set in my Eclipse universe, where Clayton Webb and Clark Palmer became lovers when Clark blackmailed Clayton into bed. Over time the whole blackmail issue was resolved, and now they're together because they want to be. If anyone wishes to read how they got here, the multi-part Eclipse series is (will be) at Mareen's Den as well as other places, locations available upon request. This would take place sometime after part 10.
This is for Alex, who keeps putting story ideas in my head; for Kita, who knows how evil I can get; and for Scarlet, who loves Clayton Webb.
Eclipse10b_Acceptable behavior
by Gail
*****
Palmer stood. "Excuse me, please, Webb."
"Just a minute. Where are you going?"
Clark paused and glanced back at his partner, Clayton Webb. "Bathroom, Webb. Is that all right?" He thought about icebergs and glaciers once again, unsurprised that they didn't work. Every damned time he ended up alone with Webb, he got a hard-on that wouldn't quit, and the only reliable cure, other than having Webb take care of it any damned way he wanted to, was to find a bathroom with a good lock and no bugs and take care of it himself.
Webb's eyes were steel. "It is not all right. Why do you need to use the bathroom so much? If there's some kind of problem, we have physicians here. You should go and see one."
Clark let a smile play on his face. If Webb wanted to know, he'd tell him. The door was closed. "I can't pay enough attention to you when all I want is for you to fuck me," he drawled in his best come-on voice. There was always the chance that Clay would give in. He'd done it before.
"And how does this pertain to your request?"
Clark blinked. That didn't sound too good. But he didn't lie to Webb, not unless it was to protect him. "I go there to jerk off." He leaned back against his chair and waited.
"You what?" Webb's voice was harsh. "For god's sake, Palmer, that is not how the Company works. You're lucky no one's come to me about this."
Really? Clark thought. The CIA suddenly didn't seem so different from the DSD after all.
Webb was still talking. "You will not use the bathroom for that purpose again. Any of them. Or your office, or anyone else's office, or the hallways," shit, Webb was covering all the bases, "or the stairwells, or the broom closets. You will not jerk off," he gave the words a scornful twist, "in this building. Is that clear, Palmer?"
"Yes, sir," Clark said softly. If Clayton was going to act DSD, he was going to give him the DSD reply, and fuck him if he didn't like it. But Clay liked it, he could see that in his eyes. "So you have never jerked off here in Langley, sir? I ask only for information and instruction."
Webb's eyes narrowed. This was fun. "We are discussing your conduct, not mine. However, before you get some idea that I'm hiding something, no, Palmer. I have never and would never do that."
But you'll have me give you a blowjob in a conference room and fuck me in your office. O.K. As long as I know the rules. You get to take me; I don't get to take anything. Not a problem. I like it that way. "You know, my superior gave me this same speech my first month at the DSD."
"And why did he do that, Palmer?" Webb thought he was honing in for the kill, but he was falling into the trap.
"He caught me doing it." He watched Webb's eyes widen. Got you, Clay. Now you're thinking about doing the same. "You want to know what he did then, Webb? Just ask."
Webb stared at him, and Clark felt a stab of regret at how tired and lost Clay's eyes suddenly were. He knew Clay worried he wasn't fitting in; he knew Clay was scared this wasn't enough to keep him content and out of trouble; but he still went and provoked him. Shit. He was going to have to make this one right, and he didn't know how. He hoped a way would come to him, but the only thing that he could think of was an abject apology, and Clay wasn't going to want him to do that here. All right, he'd have to settle for a humble apology. He opened his mouth to start.
Then Webb's eyes flickered down to his crotch, and he smiled. "I'm not interested in what he did, Palmer." He stood. "I'm interested in what I'll do."
"Sir?" The honorific came out automatically, as did Clark's quick rise to his feet.
"Go to your office, Palmer. I'm sure you know what I expect to find when I get there." Cool and fucking calm and too sexy for words with that gleam in his eyes. Oh, he knew damned well what Clay expected to find, and he'd give it to him. It was after six, and fairly safe, and if anyone walked in on them, his gun was loaded and in his desk.
"Thank you, Mr. Webb." He stood and made sure to meet his partner's and lover's eyes one more time. Yes, Clay wanted this. Good. "And thank you for your time."
He waited for Webb's slow nod, then turned and left. As he walked down the hall, he was smiling. Clay was wasted here, but he wasn't going to complain. All the talents and brilliance that he didn't get to put into the country, he put into Clark, and that was not a problem.
Clay wouldn't give him too long. He'd better get started. He shut his door behind him, knowing that he couldn't lock it or he'd ruin the game before it got started.
He settled down into his chair and reached for his zipper, then groaned as he eased out his very hard cock. He had to take it slow. Clay wanted to walk in on him, so he was going to make sure Clay had the chance. He stroked himself, biting down on his lower lip to help keep himself under control. When he did this at work, he always made it fast and hard, but this wasn't about him. This was about him and Clayton Webb. That thought made it even harder to keep his strokes slow and teasing. What would Clay do? He hoped the other man wouldn't make him wait to long to find out.
The door opened as he thought that, then shut with a firmness that made Clark breathe harder and stroke harder, too. He heard the lock click with relief. It was Clay; he knew that from the glance he'd taken. Everything was fine.
"Palmer, what the hell is going on here?" Clark made himself stay just as he was. This was a game, he reminded himself as Clay came close enough to see over the desk. "Well, it looks like you're having fun." The note of cool insinuation made Clark's cock throb even more. He made himself stop and squeeze around the base, dulling the need to come just enough. "Don't stop on my account."
"I thought you said I couldn't do this at the Company," Clark gasped.
"But you are. I can handle this." God, Clay could do DSD without much trouble at all, Clark thought dimly. A much nicer DSD than he was used to, but that command and assurance, yes, that was perfect. "You keep jerking yourself off. I'll watch." He picked up the visitors' chair and brought it around to face Clark, then sat down with a smile. He was close enough to touch Clark, and Clark was sure that was on purpose. "Come on, Palmer. I want to see how much you want this. You must want it a hell of a lot to disregard a direct order. Who got you this hot?"
If Clay really had been just a boss, this would have been incredibly humiliating. But he was more than that, and so it was fine. "You did, sir," he managed and started sliding his hand up and down his shaft again. Clay didn't even look at what he was doing, keeping his eyes on Clark's face instead.
"I did? Palmer, I had no idea."
Shit, he was good at this. Clark held in a moan. Amused, interested, and absolutely lying through his teeth. Clay, I am going to get you for this, he vowed to himself. And it is going to be soon. How does getting fucked in a restaurant bathroom sound to you? Or you can get on your knees for me. Yeah, that sounds better, faster, and a lot safer. I know just the place, and the headwaiter owes me for helping his mother stay in the country. I know how to get you submissive by now, and I'll do it.
"Yes, sir." It was the only safe answer.
"You want me to help you with that, then, Palmer?" Clay's eyes were sparkling. "Seems the least I can do, since it is for me." And then Clay was wrapping his fingers around Clark's cock, and god, it felt so good. "Let go, Clark. I'll get you off. Isn't that what you want?"
More than he could say. "Yes," he moaned, spreading his legs even more as Clay's other hand stroked his balls through his pants. "God, yes. Please, Webb."
He heard Clay's low laugh. "I like having you like this, Palmer. Maybe I spoke too soon." He was jerking him off with an expert touch, and Clark knew he was about to come. He opened his mouth to warn Clay, but then Clay pulled out a handkerchief and had it ready, and Clark let himself go, staring into the face of the man he loved. A long moan escaped him, and his eyes closed, even though he didn't want them to.
When he got them open again, Clay was sitting back in his chair, smiling. "Thank you," Clark said quietly.
"You're welcome." Clay was still smiling, then his expression got more serious. "I meant what I said, Palmer. This is not acceptable behavior."
"I understand." And he did. If Clayton didn't want him to jerk off here, he wouldn't. It was that simple. No fun, but then this was work.
"But make sure you tell me when you feel as though you need to," Clayton added, and Clark gave him a look of disbelief.
"You want me to tell you?"
"I shouldn't be the only one waiting to get the hell out of here," Clayton said dryly, and Clark got it. So he got Clay hot at work. Great news. He'd hoped, but he hadn't been sure, even now. Clay was too good at hiding his reactions to everything.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Webb." He couldn't help grinning. "So did you want me to do something for you?"
"I can wait." He glanced at his watch. "At least until we get to your place. I'll meet you there."
"I can leave now." Clark zipped himself up and stood as Clayton did.
"What a coincidence; so can I."
Clark laughed at the gleam in Clayton's eyes. "I'll be there in half an hour. Can you wait that long?"
Clayton smiled. "I'll manage." He went to the door and unlocked it, then left.
Clark took a long breath. It was so damned good to have the blackmail over, so damned good to have Clayton in his life, and so goddamned good to know he could keep him there.
He could get to his place in less than half an hour, he knew, giving himself time to change. Clay liked how he looked in worn jeans, and if he turned up the heat, he wouldn't need to bother with the shirt. His mouth stretched in a grin as he shrugged on his overcoat. He'd just be taking it off anyway.
He locked the door behind him and headed for the elevator. Work was fine, but home and Clay were much better.
The End