Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Agent Paul Candella/Clark Palmer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Palmer makes sure of Candella.
Archive: yes to WWOMB.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Series: Flashback/interlude in the Eclipse series, after Part 6
Note: This is a flashback, which would be placed in time after "Straight and narrow" and before "Dark yearnings,"
Web Page: Mareen's Den, at:
http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm
Disclaimer: These characters belong to CBS and Belisarius Productions.
This is a present for Mareen, who finally got to see "Webb of Lies" and loved it and suggested this slash pairing. And yes, for Katja, because it does tie into her Eclipse series.
Greg betaed this without complaint, since it had no Rabb in it. I'm very grateful. Mareen made me post this and said it was perfect.
This is a flashback, set some time before "Webb of Lies".
Eclipse: Source
by Gail
*****
Having my own source is worth the trouble it takes to keep him. I keep telling myself that.
He insists that we meet at his place, so I go there, making sure no one sees me who shouldn't, and hope that he's smart enough to sweep his living room for bugs. It's a nice enough room, if you like modern and uncomfortable. I wonder whether he had a decorator or did this himself. Probably himself. Candella's cheap. Cheap suits, cheap shoes, cheap cigarettes. He has no class.
We go through the greetings, I sit where he indicates and take the folder he offers. I make him wait while I look through it. It's good information. I can tell that. But Candella's not someone to trust on a regular basis. I have to watch him. He'd sell me out in a minute if he thought he could get a better offer.
It's time to play the card to get this game going my way.
I wait until he finishes smoking that damned cigarette to make my play. He stubs it out and I'm glad that he's got that machine on to eat up the stench. It's a dirty habit. He's going to die of lung cancer, if I let him live that long.
I close the file and put it in my briefcase without a word. He'll say something. He always does. He has no patience at all.
"That was what you wanted, Palmer. Don't try and tell me it wasn't."
"Exactly what I wanted," I agree and smile. "Thank you, Candella." I don't say that very often. He should have taped it.
He glances at me, and his eyes are easy to read. He thinks he's being so smooth, but I've noticed how Paul Candella looks at my body, and even if I hadn't, I have information on him. I know a lot about what he likes, how he likes it, and how much he pays when he decides to give in to his craving to fuck a guy. He's about to get very lucky.
I lick my lips. Show time.
"I was thinking it would be nice to have a drink," I say very casually and let my legs spread. I wore this outfit on purpose. Oh, yes. The eyes go right there. God, I wish I could play everyone this easily. But then Candella's a Company man, and definitely not in Webb's class. Webb wouldn't fall. He might want to, but he'd see the trap as soon as I set it. But Candella's as stupid as most of the CIA.
"Sure. What will you have?" He's still staring. It's pathetic. I shift just a little, bringing my crotch forward, and he can't take his eyes off me. I love playing games.
"Whatever you're drinking." What does it matter? I'm not going to drink that much. I know enough not to do that. I don't get drunk when I'm working.
He finally tears his eyes away from my crotch and heads for his prominent bar. I'd better make sure he doesn't drink too much. This has to be good for him.
He comes back with two glasses and hands me the one with the higher level of fluid. I smile to myself. He's getting into the spirit of it, but this is not his game. He also sits closer to me this time. Nice to know he knows something.
He keeps watching me as I take sips, his eyes now on my throat as I swallow. I'm wearing tight jeans and a loose, open shirt, and he's loving it. I knew he would. I always make sure to set the scene.
I see that all he's going to do is look after about half the glass for me, all for him. Well, I do have a reputation for a reason, and Candella knows about it. Nice to know he's a little cautious. Maybe this will be a little more interesting than I thought.
Talking isn't going to get to him. I know that already. So I shift closer to him and put my hand on his thigh. He jumps, then stares at it. I leave it there and wait. That ought to be clear enough to him.
"I didn't think you were into guys, Palmer," he says and manages to get his glass down on the coffee table. I was worried for a moment.
I smile. "You thought wrong, Candella. Am I wrong about you?"
He's smiling and so happy to think he's got me. He really, really needs to get some brains somewhere. "You should have said something sooner. We've wasted all this time."
I let my fingers start stroking. I don't want to talk. "You're wasting time now."
I know he gets the idea because the next thing he does is to lean over and kiss me. Paul Candella does nothing for me, but I respond with my best act, parting my lips so that he can push his tongue in and then kissing him back. God. I've had better kisses from women who were about to pass out. He's lucky I've decided to go through with this, because if I were wavering, I'd bail now. Instead I slide my hand from his thigh up to his crotch and start massaging that. Hmm. Hard. I don't know if I should be flattered or not. I know he wants me, but I also know very well that Candella hasn't gotten laid for a while. I've been studying him.
He's broken the kiss, thank god, and is running his hands all over me, possessive and rough. Now that's a little better. I can stand that. I close my eyes and let my head fall back, but make sure I get him unzipped so that I can work on him. His cock is good and hard and not so big that I'm worried about taking it.
He's going to get to my crotch, so I do what I was afraid I'd have to, fantasize. I can't afford to get too far away from this game, but it's going to be pretty damned impossible to convince Candella that I'm interested if I'm limp, and that's just about what I am. I summon up the one guy that I know will work: Clayton Webb. Ah, yes. The blood's rushing in with each heartbeat. Webb would know what the hell to do with me, and I'd have to work my ass off to keep up with him. It's pretty unlikely that I'll ever get the chance, but I would love to try. If I were with him on this couch, I'd be taking the lead until he stopped me. And I'm sure he would. Webb needs to be in control.
Candella breaks into my thoughts. "God, you're hot." He's got his hand in my pants now, and it does feel good. I give him a moan to keep him happy. He likes loud ones. "You want a blow job?"
It's tempting, but I know what he wants to hear. "I want you to fuck me."
His eyes widen. You're mine now, Candella. For the price of some faked passion and a few minutes of discomfort, I'm going to own you. You'll do whatever I say now, because you think that I'm your puppet.
"I can do that," he says, then stands up, dragging me with him. I'm glad I got my hand out of his pants in time. This guy has no finesse, but I didn't expect any.
Now we're in his bedroom, which is nothing much, and he starts taking off his clothes. I do the same, amusing myself by making a production of it, running my hands over my body, easing myself out of my jeans, then taking my cock in my hand and pumping it. Yeah, Webb would like this. But Webb's not here. I turn my attention back to Candella. Not a bad build to go along with the decent face, but none of that matters. I remember something and lean down to the floor to reach into my jeans. Candella's eyes widen when I show it to him.
"You carry a cock ring with you?"
"I knew I'd be trying to get you to fuck me," I murmur and come close enough for him to smell me. My erection brushes against his leg. "This way I won't shoot too soon. I want it to last."
He answers by yanking it out of my hand and strapping it around my shaft. What I didn't tell him is that it will help me stay hard. I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get.
"You want it that much, I'll give it to you," he boasts with a grin and pushes me backwards on to the bed. I let him, although I can't say I'm enjoying this caveman exhibition. He's a fast one, no staying power. Just a little longer, and he's getting out the lube now.
I turn over and get up on my hands and knees. I ought to keep my eye on him, but this way is supposed to be better, and it is his thing.
"Yeah," I hear him growl, then his fingers, cool with lube, are in me. They still hurt. I make myself relax. Webb, I think. Webb doing this. And I'm moaning again.
The fingers come out, then a pause, and then he's pushing into me. I remind myself to breathe and remember what I'm here for. Control. A new puppet. Another victory over the fucking CIA.
He's pumping, not a thought for me, but I can take care of that later. This isn't about me. Too many things in my life aren't about me any more, but I'm not in Leavenworth and no one's looking for me. I'll be fine. This is nothing.
I hear Candella panting and make some more noise and squeeze my muscles to see if that will help him along. He lets out a moan and pumps harder, and yeah, that feels good. I push back against him. I don't mind enjoying the ride or rather, being ridden. He keeps fucking me and it's getting better. I'm going to come if he keeps this up, cock ring or not.
Of course that's when he comes and it's all over. Candella is an inconsiderate idiot, but he's my idiot now and that's what counts. He pulls out, heads for the bathroom, and I grab some tissues from the box on the dresser and wipe myself off, then slide into my clothes. He doesn't get a repeat performance tonight. Maybe next time. I leave the cock ring on. It amuses me, and I could use some amusement.
He comes back out with a towel wrapped around him. "Hey, where are you going?"
I give him an easy smile. "Play time's over, Candella. Thanks."
He looks puzzled. "But you didn't come."
Very good. You noticed. But I don't want to come with you.
"I'm fine." I walk over to him and kiss him. At least he's brushed his teeth. It does make a difference. Mint tastes much better than smoke and booze. "Next time, if I get one," I murmur.
"Yeah, next time," he agrees and steps back, and I'm free.
The thing that Candella doesn't know is that next time, he's going to have to do more to earn my ass. But he'll learn, and he'll do it.
I smile as I leave, even though it's not that much fun to walk. I'll go home, think about Webb and jerk off, shower, see what I can do with that information, and relax. I've got my Company source, and I am keeping him.
As long he doesn't try to lie to me.
The End