Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Clark decides to liven up a slow time at work.
Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Web Pages: The Unholy Trinity, at:
http://www.strangeplaces.net/trinity/main.htm and http://www.freespeech.org/gem/work/main.html
Disclaimer: The JAG characters belong to DPB and Belisarius Productions and CBS, and the West Wing characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and NBC and John Wells Productions.
This is yet another PWP (#10) 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. To read how this happened, please go to one of the above sites. This would take place sometime after part 10.
I can't believe that a West Wing episode (The War at Home) jumped into this one, but it did, and that's that. I don't argue with my characters. That's the way to disaster.
I wrote this for Tinnean, then Athea needed an Eclipse fix, so she got it, and Alex wonderfully beta'd it for me.
Eclipse_Position paper
by Gail
"Clay, come on."
Clayton Webb gave his partner the sternest look he could manage. "You know my position on this matter, and it hasn't changed since the last time we discussed it."
Clark Palmer just smiled. "I could make you change your position. Just give me a chance."
"No." The glare Clay gave him would have stopped most men, but Clark Palmer wasn't most men.
"I've been good, Clay. Let me have some fun. I swear it'll be worth your time." Clark let the tip of his tongue flick out over his lips. "Don't you want me? No one will ever know but us."
Clay wasn't glaring at him any longer. "Clark, this isn't about wanting you. You know that I do. It's about appropriate behavior."
"It's ten-thirty." Clark gave him an exasperated look. "The door's closed. You want me to lock it?"
"I don't lock my door when I'm in."
"Pretend you're not in. You can do it if you try."
"The reason we're still here is that I need to be in. Until we hear that the DEA agents are safely back from Colombia, we need to be here. We might need to send out operatives to get them."
"Bartlet won't do it." Clark's voice was certain. "He's not that kind of guy."
"You almost sound as though you approve."
Clark shrugged. "I'd have the bastard killed in the cell and thrown out to the dogs to be eaten, but that's not his style. And yes, I do approve. He knows what he is and what he would be if he did that. And I know that you're trying to distract me." He gave Clay a mocking look. "It's not working. It's late, no one's going to walk in, and I'm going to have some fun. Deal with it."
"You used to do what I said," Clay said quickly, watching Clark get up and head toward his desk. Truth was, he didn't want Clark to listen to him. He knew that it was better that they didn't push it, but he was bored and tired, and the gleam in Clark's eyes was getting him hard, as always.
"If you meant what you said, I'd do it," Clark countered and put his hands on the arms of Clay's chair, moving it just enough out of the way for him to get down under the desk, then swiveling it back. "But you don't."
His hands were sure on the zipper of Clay's pants, and Clay decided to give in. "You really do like dangerous games."
Clark laughed softly. "So do you, Clay. So sit back and enjoy this one."
Clark's mouth was taking in his cock before Clay could answer, and yes, he was going to enjoy this one. Clark was so damned good at this, loved doing it so much, and why the hell had he deprived himself of this? Clark was right; it was safe here.
He reached down and grabbed his cock, squeezing firmly. He knew that Clark would get that he didn't want to come yet, and Clark changed his action down from the fierce devouring to a more leisurely sucking.
Then there was a knock on the door, and before Clay could say anything, it opened. He put his hand on Clark's head to keep him there. It was one of the agents he supervised, with a file folder in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Webb, but I was told to bring this to you." The young man held out the folder and looked nervous.
"Next time, Newkirk, wait for me to tell you you can enter." They never seemed to know that when they started at the Company, but they did learn. It just took time.
"Yes, Mr. Webb." Now Newkirk looked even more nervous. "I'm sorry, sir."
To his amazement, Clark was still sucking him. Didn't he know when to stop? Clay tugged at his hair, but Clark didn't move, and he knew that to get him to stop, he'd have to do more and risk being discovered. Damn Clark. He was probably enjoying the hell out of this. They were definitely going to have a talk later, and Clark was not going to enjoy that.
"Give me the folder," he said quickly, seeing how Newkirk was shifting back and forth in place.
Newkirk let out an audible sigh of relief and walked toward the desk. Clay felt Clark chuckle around his cock and gave him a quick yank on his hair before taking his hand away. In return, he felt Clark's teeth close very gently around his shaft, and he had to hold in a moan. Clark was too damned good.
He reached out for the folder, taking it from Newkirk over the desk. "That will be all," he said and hoped that his voice sounded normal. Clark had taken him in even deeper than before, and his cock was throbbing, signaling that orgasm was only seconds away. He put down the folder, but Newkirk didn't move. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry for not knocking, Mr. Webb. I'll remember."
"See that you do." He held in a moan as Clark's tongue started lapping at the head. How the hell did he do that with the whole of Clay's shaft buried in his throat? Did he care? If Newkirk didn't get the fuck out, he was going to see his boss come, and there was no way that was going to happen. "Now go."
"Yes, sir." Newkirk was out the door in a flash, closing it behind him, thank god.
"You fucking idiot," Clay snapped and felt Clark's laugh, then moaned instead of continuing. Clark was working on him with his previous fierceness, and soon he was coming into his lover's mouth.
Clark finally drew off him. "Fucking idiot? Clay, I thought I did very well. But if you'd like to analyze it, I'll be happy to listen for as long as you want, then I'll try it again and see if I can do better."
Clay batted Clark's hands away and got his limp cock back into his pants by himself. "We are not running through it again here, and you are a fucking idiot to pull this stunt."
Clark reached up and pushed back Clay's chair. "You don't know how to have fun, Clay, but I'll teach you." His eyes had mischief in them. "Next time, I'm locking the door."
Clay was going to tell him that there wouldn't be a next time, then he saw something in Clark's eyes that made him stop. This was his partner, his lover, his friend. He didn't need to get on him for finally relaxing and acting like he belonged here, and he wouldn't.
"Next time, you might be the one trying to keep from making any noise," he said and saw Clark's eyes widen. "Think about that, Palmer."
"I will be thinking about it." Clark drew a shaky breath. "Bastard."
Clay laughed. "Go back to your own office. I'm going to see if I can get any more work done."
"Whatever you say, boss." The impish note was back in Clark's voice, and he gave Clay a grin as he left.
Clay pulled the file to him and opened it just as the phone rang. He picked it up. "Webb." He listened. "Good. I'll tell my people." The hostages were free, and there was no chance of any kind of operation needing to be run. It was over.
Clay closed the file and stood. He'd get Clark and go home, passing the word along the way. Time to see about getting to bed. After all, Clark hadn't come yet.
The End