Title: They’re Having a Heat Wave
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: not
mine, never will be, Belisarius owns them, but
the
pairing is Gail's. And I'm not making a dime on this!!!
Status: New/complete
Date: 11/00
Series/Sequel:
this is a PWP that happens
after the end of the
Eclipse series by Gail, but the series isn't over
yet.
Summary: There's a heat wave in D.C.
and the air conditioning at
the Company is not working. Things get a trifle
sweaty.
Warnings: m/m, language
Notes: Clark has been released from
Leavenworth and become a
Company man who works under (in more ways than one)
Clayton Webb.
He has used blackmail as a means to get into
Clayton's life (and
bed). This takes up after there is no need for any
more
blackmail.
And this is for Gail, by way of a small thanks for
all her help. Who knows
what lurks in the mind of my computer? Gail do!
They’re Having a Heat Wave
Clayton Webb hated Washington during this time of year. The
city was like a steam bath! To make matters worse, the Company’s air
conditioning had broken down. Again.
He was swamped with paperwork, which needed to be completed
in triplicate and filed. Some hotshot agent surpassed his authority and the
result was major embarrassment to the country, and the company he worked for.
God! It was hot in here! He could feel the sweat pooling at
the base of his spine, and scowled. It was much too hot to keep his suit jacket
on. Well, it was after hours, no one was around. He’d just take it off and try
to find some relief.
Webb was irritable. The heat always did that to him. He
tossed the jacket over the back of the visitor’s chair and went back to his
computer. Before long he was immersed in the screen before him.
The man who watched him silently knew there was no chance
he would be caught. Clark Palmer, former DSD agent, and now a part of the CIA,
was an expert at planting bugs that were impossible to find. He had done it
before, when his masters at the DSD had required it.
And at other times.
He did it now, for his own pleasure. Webb was his, and
there was nothing he liked better than watching the man who meant so much to him
when he was unaware of the surveillance.
Of course, he fully intended to get all that intense energy
focused back on himself, but there was no rush. It was Friday night, Washington
was in the middle of a massive heat wave, and no one wanted to hang out in this
building any longer than they needed to.
Clark settled himself in his chair and watched the mini
screen. The resolution was amazingly good. He could see a drop of sweat bead at
Webb’s temple, then start to trickle down over the curve of his cheekbone. It
stopped at the corner of his mouth, and Palmer watched as the other man absently
caught it with the tip of his tongue.
Palmer groaned. The sight of his lover, all flushed and
sweaty, was such a rarity that he found it vastly arousing. His cock grew hard,
and he opened his trousers, unzipping the fly and freeing his hard length.
Already a drop of precome was seeping from the tip, and he rubbed it in broad
circles with his thumb.
He licked his lips and leaned his head back, unable to tear
his eyes off the man on the screen.
Webb blotted at the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve
of his right arm, and Clark could see the damp patch under his arm, could almost
see the fine hairs that grew there.
Clayton Webb had a thing for expensive shirts, and Clark
had never been able to understand the attraction. Now he could. But white was so
unimaginative. Sky blue, now that was more like it. Or maybe pale green. Or
lilac.
Clark laughed softly at the thought of his lover in
pastels, and then groaned as the material of Clayton’s shirt became almost
transparent as the intense heat of his office caused the other man to perspire
profusely. If he looked really hard, Clark could see his nipples, could see they
were pebble hard, could see…
Why would Clayton’s nipples be hard in such hot weather?
Clark paused in the pleasuring of himself, managing to drag his eyes from the
mesmerizing sight of Clay’s chest. He looked into the face on the screen and
felt a jolt of excitement.
Clayton appeared to be looking directly into the mini
camera Clark had been at such pains to securely conceal. He ran a hand through
his hair, dissheveling the normally never- a- hair- out- of- place style he
favored. His eyes grew sultry, and he pushed his chair back from his desk.
Clark’s mouth went dry as he wondered if he had been
caught, and then his mind went blank. Clayton was seating himself on the edge of
his desk, making himself comfortable, in full view of that all-seeing eye. He
spread his legs and began fondling the bulge between his legs.
The former DSD agent sat up abruptly. When had Clayton
gotten hard?
Clay let his head fall back as he balanced his weight with
one hand while the other traced the outline of his erection. There was no sound
to this bug, and Clark cursed himself for being so frugal. Clayton’s lips were
parted, and he wanted to hear the moans he was sure were spilling from that
oh-so-fuckable mouth.
He began to rub himself harder, although what he really
wanted to do was burst into Clayton’s office, unzip Clayton’s trousers, and
go down on him for all he was worth, taking that glorious cock deep into his
throat, suckling and nibbling until Clay had no choice but to come.
Webb stopped caressing himself, although Clark could see it
was an effort; Clay did not want to stop. But he reached over toward
something that his body blocked from the eye of the minicam.
And Clark’s intercomm buzzed. Ah, shit! Who else was in
the building who needed him at this time of night? Was he ever going to be
allowed to enjoy the sight of his lover pleasuring himself?
“This had better be fucking good!” he snarled into the
unit.
There was a beat, and then a cool voice sounded in his ear.
“In my office, now Palmer! If you value your ass, you won’t make me
wait!”
“Clay! I mean, Webb!”
“*Now*!”
Clark Palmer was not for nothing the coldest of the cold
operatives that the DSD had ever produced. His hands were steady as he righted
his clothing. In a matter of moments he had himself presentable, and no one
would have guessed that just seconds before he had been on the brink of
climaxing.
His mouth was dry, but if anything, he was even harder than
he had been. When his superior summoned him anywhere in that tone of voice,
Clark Palmer always knew something was up. That something being about six inches
below Clayton’s waist.
He tapped lightly on the door with the neat placard reading
Clayton Webb. Below his name were the words ‘Assistant Director in Charge of
Changes to be Made’. Clark had made that up and placed it there, and Clay still
had not read it clearly.
Palmer had learned in Paris, a number of years ago, that a
person only sees what he wants or expects to see. Clay had no clue what was on
his door!
“Come.”
Clark swallowed hard. Oh, he sincerely hoped he’d be
allowed to!
“You sent for me, Webb?” As always on Company property
he addressed his lover solely by his last name.
And then he froze. Dangling from Clayton Webb’s fingers,
the minicam swayed gently.
“Clay! Um, I
can explain this?”
“Can you, Clark? Can you explain to my satisfaction why
you’ve planted this contraption here in my office? Were you spying on me,
Clark?”
For once, Clark was at a loss. How could he explain that he
had invaded his lover’s privacy because he needed to, needed to see him,
needed to know he was still a part of his life, that even if they had parted
moments before, Clayton was still a part of his world?
Oh, God, Clark groaned to himself! Have I got it bad!
“Clay, it’s not what you think!”
“It’s not?” Clayton sounded curiously disappointed. “Then you were watching me because you still consider yourself DSD, not because you care about me? I see.” He turned away, somehow seeming to have deflated.
”What?” Clark was across the room so fast Clay didn’t
have time to react. “You see nothing, Webb!” The Company man was
slammed up against a wall and Clark was rubbing himself frantically against the
arousal he could feel swelling against him. “I’ve got to have you, Clay!
Right here, right now! I know you don’t want me during Company time but…”
Clay leaned his head away from his partner, denying him his
lips. “Did anyone ever tell you you talk too much, Clark? Can’t you think of
anything more constructive to do with that mouth of yours?”
Palmer was trembling with desire that he could barely keep
leashed. He stepped back and his hands dropped to Clayton’s waist. A snap and
the hiss of a zipper being lowered, and then Clark dropped to his knees before
the other man.
His eyes closed, he savored the velvety feel of Webb’s
arousal against his cheek and then he pulled back enough to lick at his
lover’s weeping cock before swallowing it. For long minutes he worshipped the
man he loved, but then, just when Clayton was about to come in his mouth, he
stopped.
“I’m sorry, Clay, I have to have you in me! I need that
so badly!”
Smiling, that sultry look back in his eyes, Webb dropped
his gaze to his partner’s very prominent erection. “Very well,” he agreed,
“strip off all your clothes!”
Clark’s hands went to his tie and he began to tug it
free. A glance shot to the door, and he walked toward it, intending to secure
the lock.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Clark,” the other man
said smoothly. “No one else is in this building tonight. And even if someone
was, and they walked in on us, that would be no concern of yours!”
Palmer’s hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and
it seemed an eternity before he had them undone, but he was actually moving
rapidly. When he was naked, he looked to Clayton for further directions.
Clay had peeled off his trousers and had tossed his shirt
aside. He settled himself comfortably in his chair and nodded toward the lower
left hand drawer of his desk. “There’s a private compartment in that
drawer,” he told Clark. “Open it!”
Inside the tiny drawer, Clark found a tube of lubrication,
and he felt a stab of jealousy. “You’re prepared for every contingency,
aren’t you, Mr. Webb?”
“Only since you came into my life, Clark. I put that in
there, hoping one day you’d push me too far and we’d have occasion to use
it! Now put that on me!”
Clark’s hands were trembling so much he dropped the cap
of the tube and it rolled somewhere under the desk, but that didn’t concern
him just then. He coated his lover’s cock with the lubricant, smoothing it
over the hard flesh. Palmer cast an inquiring look at the other man. How did he
want to take him?
“Now I want you to slick your ass for me. That’s right,
turn around and bend over so I can watch you prepare yourself. I’m going to
fuck you so hard you’ll never be able to come into this room again without
thinking about this!”
Clay was stroking himself as he watched Clark Palmer obey
his orders. He could see how excited the other man was getting. “Don’t come
yet, Clark. If you do, I’ll have to punish you! And you don’t want that, do
you?”
“No sir!” Clark could barely get the words out of his
mouth.
“Very good! Now come here and straddle me.”
Clark knew what was coming now and hastened to where Clay
sat. His legs positioned on either side of his lover’s, he lowered himself
until he was just above Clayton’s cock.
Breathe, Clay was forced to remind himself. He
exhaled slowly and then spoke again. “Hold yourself open and slide all the way
down onto me!”
Palmer spread his cheeks and obeyed his lover’s orders,
taking him in an inch at a time, drawing out the process with excruciating
languor. By the time he had engulfed his lover completely, his breath was
sobbing out of his lungs.
“Now ride me, Clark! Let me feel how much you want
this!”
His cock pressed tight against Clayton’s abdomen, his ass
filled with Clayton’s cock, Clark began to move, striving for a long leisurely
canter in the park, but within moments galloping headlong to the winning line.
His loss of control excited Clayton so much that he filled
Clark’s passage with his hot semen as the other man poured himself all over
his stomach, coating them both.
For long seconds only the sound of their ragged breaths
filled the room.
“God, that was good, Clay!”
Clayton smiled. It was good. It almost made up for
the discomfort of this heat!
Clark smiled also, although his smile was hidden in his
lover’s neck. He licked the beads of perspiration that rolled down Clayton’s
throat, sucking gently at his adam’s apple, and then settled his head on his
shoulder.
I love you Clay.
Clark froze. Had he just admitted that aloud? No, he
couldn’t have, Clayton would have said something. He sighed and relaxed for
the few short moments they had left before they would need to dress and go home
for the night.
Don’t let him know you heard him. Clay continued
stroking the line of Clark’s back, a silly smile on his face. His arms
tightened.
A faint hum came from the vents. The air conditioning was working again.
~End~