Title: Storm

Author: Gail

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Clayton Webb and Clark Palmer go for a walk and get caught in a rainstorm.

Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.

Web Page: The Unholy Trinity, at: http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS.

This is yet another 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 at The Unholy Trinity as well as other places, locations available upon request. This would take place sometime after part 10.

For Athea, who came up with the idea; for Tinnean, who beta'd most kindly and happily; for Page, because she wrote me an Eclipse story; and for Alex, who will be surprised as all hell that I posted without asking for a beta from her for the first time in months.

Eclipse_Storm
by Gail
*****

I want to tell him this was *his* bright idea to go for a walk instead of staying home, taking a nap, and making love when we woke up, but I keep quiet. All right, it's raining; we're out in
it; there's no shelter in sight except some trees and bushes that aren't going to keep out the rain, but what the hell. I'm with him.

"Damn," he mutters, and I'm really glad I kept my mouth shut. He doesn't need me being a smart-ass. "I can't believe this. The weather report in the paper said nothing about rain." He turns to face me and sighs. "We'd better head back."

"Oh, I don't think so." We've been out walking for an hour or so, and I know it'll take at least twenty minutes to get back to the car if we go straight back. Too long to be out in the rain. "I'd rather wait it out. At least we're out of the worst of it here."

"All right."

He wraps his arms around himself, and I take a good look at him. Shit. Clay's shivering. I'm going to have to do something about that. Why the hell didn't I think about bringing something like an umbrella? We don't even have jackets, just sweaters, and they're soaked through. I'm the one with DSD training, not him. I know that the unexpected can come and bite you in the ass any time. Simple walk, my ass. Nothing is simple.

"You all right?" Stupid question. Of course he's not all right.

"Fine." He leans against the same tree as me. "Just wet."

Just wet. I have to watch him all the time. I give him an exasperated look, which he doesn't see because he's hunched in on himself and staring at the ground, then look around one more time. No, nothing for cover. Damn. Only one thing to do, not that I mind. I pull him into my arms.

"What the hell?"

"You're shivering," I breathe against his cheek, which is too damned cold. "Can't have that." I know I'm warmer than he is, and it'll have to help to have us combining our body temperatures.

"Should have stayed home," he mutters. "Stupid idea."

"No, come on, Clay, it was fun until the rain hit."

It was fun. He was telling me about some of his favorite places to eat, and I got him to agree to let me take him some week night to one of mine. He even told me some about his college days at Harvard. Wish I'd known him then. But then I wish we'd grown up together. God. That's how bad I am about him. I want to go backand be with him from the moment he was born. I sigh and hold him closer. I've really got it bad, but that's not news.

"That's not what you said when I came up with the idea." His voice is a little better now, a note of teasing in it. Good.

"I've learned my lesson," I say solemnly, and he laughs. "All right, I don't usually get into walks. But they're fine with you."

I move him so that he's out of the drips from the branches, right up against the bark. It has to be rough against his back, but he just lets me. Clay trusts me; god, that's even harder to believe. Trusts *me*.

He's quiet for while, and so am I, but then damn, it happens. I'm up against his body, and I get hard, and I want more. I find myself grinding into him, and he licks his lips and fastens them on my neck. Yes, marks, please, more marks. I moan to get him to keep going. There's no one around; we can do it here. Why not?

"You sound like you want me." Yes, Clay's feeling better. "Do you?"

"I fucking always want you, drives me crazy," I whisper. "Yeah, I want you now. Please, Clay."

"What if someone comes?"

"They can watch or leave." I don't give a damn who sees us. "Please, Clay. Please."

"I should make you wait," he says, but he's hard now, too, and I know he doesn't want to wait.

"No waiting. Now."

I get my head down and take his mouth, and yeah, that should do it. His tongue goes right into my mouth, taking everything from me. Come on, Clay, get me off or let me get you off; I don't care which; just let me have something. I'm trying to get my hands on his cock, but he's right up against me, and I'm not going to complain about that. I'm the one who won't move away from him.

"Not much we can do here." He's panting, his head back against the tree, and I get my mouth down to his neck and kiss and lick it. I won't leave marks; that's not his thing. "Is there?"

"You can let me suck you, or I can jerk you off, or you can fuck me if you want to." So we don't have any lube. No problem. I'll get his cock in my mouth, get it all wet, then he can fuck me. I don't care.

"Not that. It would hurt you."

He doesn't get that I don't care about that. All right. Don't want to upset Clay. "So what do you want? Tell me."

Rain drips on my neck, startling me, and making Clay laugh. I like hearing him laugh.

"Your pants will get all muddy if you get on your knees, so that leaves just one choice."

I just stare at him. I care? There's only one way to show him, and I go ahead and do it, get on my knees and reach up for his zipper.

"Clark, get up."

"No." I've got the zipper down now, and I don't care that I'm getting hit by more raindrops, because I've got Clay's cock in my fingers, and it'll be in my mouth soon. "I want this. Let me have it."

That works on him, and it does this time, because he just lets out a long breath and lets me do what I want, and I do. God, he tastes so good. I don't know how the rest of the world survives without this, except that they don't have a fucking choice. Clay's mine, and nobody else gets to do this but me. Yeah, just me. I suck harder, make it good for him, which makes it even better for me. My cock's so damned hard, and he's getting close, I can feel it, yeah. Then he's moaning and spurting into my mouth, and I swallow every drop. Better than anything else in the world.

I'm wet as all hell now and cold and hard as a fucking rock, and happy. Clay's mine, and he let me suck him off outside.

"Stand up." He's smiling at me, and I do. "You just won't listen to me."

"I listened." I know I'm grinning. "We're not at Langley, so I don't have to do it."

"Your turn," he says in a suddenly low voice, and then, fuck, he's not going to do that, forget it. I grab him by the arms before he can get in the mud. "Clark, let go of me."

"I want you to jerk me off, please, Clay, want you where I can see you when I come," and I do, god, I do. Let him listen to me.

He smiles. "All right. You have some tissues or something?" I fish in my pocket and come up with a handkerchief. "When did you start this?"

"Made sense to me. Wastes less trees." I don't give a damn about trees; Clay carries a handkerchief, so I carry one, but I don't need to tell him that. He'll probably get it anyway. He's so damned smart.

He gives me a look that tells me he's on to me, but of course he doesn't say anything. Clay's a nice guy. "Get back against the tree."

Oh, yes, he's taking over. Good. I swallow and taste him again, then do what he says. His eyes are gleaming as he reaches for my zipper, and then he's got my cock in his hand, and god, yes, I'm so close. "Please, Clay."

"I'll get you off, don't worry," he breathes, and he's pumping it good and hard, the way I like it, no teasing, and I'm gasping. Can't help it, don't want to, then I'm moaning and pushing into his grip. "I want you to come for me, Clark."

That does it. I groan and shoot over his hand, and damn, I can't keep my eyes open when I come. Hate that. I want to see his face, see if he's as happy as I am. But when I do get my eyes open, he's smiling, so I guess he is.

He finishes wiping off me and his hand, then puts the handkerchief in his pocket. "Looks like the rain stopped," he says, and I nod and get my cock back in my pants. Yeah, I'm all muddy. Fine. That's what a washing machine's for.

"Want to start back?"

"All right." He's still smiling. I like seeing him smile more than just about anything.

"So, can we go for more walks?" I say when we're in sight of the car, and he just laughs. I think that's a yes.

The End