Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Clark Palmer gets a houseboy.
Archive: yes to Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Web Page: http://free.freespeech.org/gem/work/main.html and the
Unholy Trinity, http://www.strangeplaces.net/trinity/main.htm
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wish they were. Belisarius Productions and CBS have the distinct pleasure of owning the rights to Mr. Clayton Webb and Mr. Clark Palmer.
This is yet another PWP (#15) set in my Eclipse universe, where Clayton Webb and Clark Palmer became lovers when Clark blackmailed Clayton into bed while at the same time Clayton was trying to have an affair with Harmon Rabb. Over time the whole blackmail issue was resolved, and now they're together because they want to be. This would take place sometime after part 10.
Athea, Tinnean, and Alexandra read this and approved. What more could a writer ask for? Well, one thing more: wonderful Elizabeth to beta, and now she has. Thank you, Elizabeth.
Houseboy
by Gail
*****
Too damned long a day. It's all I've been thinking all the way home. Hate this apartment. Wish I could live with Clay, but he hasn't said anything about it, and hell, we're two adults. It makes sense for us to have our own places. I can handle this. I will handle this.
He told me to leave work, I remind myself. Said I needed to go home and rest. So he was thinking of me, and that's what's important.
I strip out of my suit and hang it up, toss the dirty shirt and underwear into the basket, then grab a pair of jeans and an old shirt of Clay's that I took once and never gave back. I've washed it, so it doesn't smell like him, but it's still his. I don't put them on, just take them with me to put on afterwards. I need a shower. No, a bath for a change. A long, leisurely bath with a book. I've got one I've been meaning to read, a nice, light mystery, and I'm not hungry. I'll have a salad or something later. What does it matter what I eat when I'm not having to worry about Clay getting a decent meal?
I get the book from the small bookcase in my room, then go to the bathroom and start the water. The bathtub isn't deep enough to really lounge in, but I'll keep putting more hot water in until I'm ready to get out. Damn. Got to get the cell phone. If Clay needs me, I don't want to miss the call.
I get the cell and put it near the tub, then climb in. Oh, yeah. This is more like it. I might get through the rest of the fucking week. Just two more days, then the weekend. Hate the CIA. Fucking hate them. But that's the price I pay for my freedom: working for the enemy. No, not the enemy. Have to stop that. I work for Clay. All right. I can do that. I want to do that.
I make myself stop thinking, close my eyes, and sink further down into the water. I'll read later. This feels too good to stop.
*****
"Clark."
What? I open my eyes and see Clay smiling at me. How the hell... Oh, yeah. I gave him a key. Almost forgot that. I must have dozed. Smart. Good thing it is a shallow tub. Not much chance of me slipping down into the water.
"You all right there?"
"Fine." He's here. He came to *me*.
He dips a finger into the water. "Feels a little cool. Want it warmed up?"
"Sure." He's never done this. He used to come over sometimes when I was holding Stoner over his head, but he always got here mad, and I had to play the game right so that he didn't catch on that I wanted him here, had set it up so that he'd come. Later on, I got him to come over a few times, but I always had to invite him. I like this.
He turns on the water and adjusts it, and I lift my feet out of the water so that I won't get burned.
"Like being waited on, Clark?"
"I could get used to it. You want a job as houseboy? Good pay." Hell, I'd give him anything and everything.
"I'll think about it." He's out of his suit jacket, and he reaches up and loosens his tie as the steam rises. Rumpled's a nice look on him. "It would have to be better than Langley some days."
"Leave Langley." Damn, I shouldn't have said that. He's looking at me with eyes that see more than I want. "Joke, Clay."
I ease my feet back into the water. Just right now. Clay as my houseboy. Now that would be a change. I feel more like I'm his, not that I'm complaining. Not at all.
"Is it?"
Why the hell can't I lie to him any more? I need to be able to lie sometimes. I plunge my hands into the water and dash it over my face to give myself time.
"I don't think it is," he answers himself. "You hate it there. I hate it there sometimes. But it's where I need to be to do what I want," he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt while he talks, "and I need you there with me. So we both stay."
He needs me. I stare at him as his face relaxes.
"You don't know I need you, Clark? I have to see about making sure you get that."
I finally get some words out. "Yeah, that would be nice." He needs me. I knew he did; I mean, yeah, he has to. I've made sure he does. But he said it. Out loud. To me. I know I've got that smile only he brings out in me. I'm too happy not to.
"Yes," he echoes, smiling. "I think that now would be a good time to start."
"Everything all right with the world?" He was there late because there was a situation, so it must be over, but it's only right that I ask.
"This is the world. Fuck the rest of it." He tests the water, then shuts it off.
Is this really Clay? I hope so. I like it. "Fine with me." I bend my knees and let myself slip down more into the water. "So now what?"
His eyes are gleaming. "You offered me a position. How about I show you tonight if I'd qualify or not? A trial run."
Hey, I'm not going to argue with that. I pretend to think about it, even though I've made up my mind, and he knows it. "All right. Show me what you've got."
He stands and goes over to the closet where I keep my spare towels and stuff and comes back with a washcloth. "Good."
He kneels back down on the mat, then picks up the bar of soap. I'm sure he can tell that it's the same kind he uses, but he doesn't say anything, just smiles at me again, wets the washcloth, then the soap, and starts rubbing the soap on the washcloth. Is Clay going to wash me? Hell, this is turning out to be a great evening. Then I think of something and grin. If he's my houseboy, I get to boss him around. Yeah, I'm going to enjoy this a lot. He's not in his submissive mood, but he has to know what being a houseboy means. I'll let him go ahead his own way for a while before I try any orders. He's doing just fine now. Would be nice if he took off some more clothes, though.
I grin and splash some water on him. He looks at me in surprise, and I just grin wider and splash some more. He shakes his head, but he's still smiling.
"You want me to get all wet? Is this a hint?"
"Didn't say a word, Clay." I splash him again, and this time he laughs.
"Keep this up, and I'll decide to go work for someone else."
"Try it." There's no way in hell I'm going to let him leave. I know he's only kidding, but dammit, I'm still fucked about the whole Rabb thing. Me jealous, who wouldn't hesitate to sleep with anyone if the job required it. God in hell, how I've changed.
"I'm not leaving."
That's damned good to hear. I shouldn't need to hear things like that, but I do.
He puts the soap back in the dish and hands the washcloth to me. I make him wait a minute before I take it. Then he rinses his hands off in the water, dries them on the towel, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Yeah. That's more like it. I stare. Why the hell not? It's my place. He's my houseboy.
He gets the shirt and the undershirt off, then stops and looks at me. "More?" he asks very softly, and I can feel myself getting hard. He's asking me what to do. This is going to be fun.
"More."
He undoes the belt, then his hands are undoing his pants. Yeah. Stripping for me. Belonging to me. I don't give a damn about how long the day was now, except that it might make the night shorter. Maybe we can go in late.
He's out of the pants now, totally bare, and getting hard himself. I'm glad he shut the door. Don't want him to get cold. He holds out his hand, and it takes me a moment to get that he wants the washcloth back. I hand it to him.
"Thank you," he murmurs. "Sit up, please."
He said please, so of course. I sit right up, and, back on his knees, he put the washcloth on my chest and starts rubbing it in circles. Damn, it never feels this good when I do it, that soft scratchiness of the nap waking up all my nerve endings. When he rubs it over my left nipple, I can't help moaning. He smiles then and moves to the right one.
"You like that?"
My cock's thrusting right up out of the water, and he has to ask. "Yeah, I like that. You know that a houseboy's supposed to do everything his master wants, right?"
"Everything," he echoes and keeps rubbing. "I can do that. Up on your knees, please."
I do what he asks. He's so much more confident now, and I love it. Clayton Webb should be confident. He's got so much to offer.
He's finally down to my crotch, and I know he's going to do something soon, but shit, he just passes by my erection and starts working on my thighs. "You're forgetting something."
"Wait. First I need to get you washed, then..." His voice trails off, and there is a mischievous smile on his face. Yeah, I like that, too. All right, Clay's got a plan in that brilliant head of his. Works for me. "Turn around. I need to get your back."
I do, and he starts from the top again. When he gets to my ass, I want anything so badly, and he surprises me by washing my crack and my balls. I don't even try not to moan.
"It feels good?"
He knows it does. I can tell from his voice. He's almost at my cock. Almost. So damned close I could shift and make him stroke it. I could make him. If I gave him an order, he'd obey it. Or would he? I don't know. He's certainly not a traditional houseboy. No, Clayton Webb's playing, but he's not giving up himself. But that's fine with me.
"You ever going to finish?" And get to the next thing, whatever that is? He knows what he's doing to me. But he came to me, wanted to play this, and I'm not going to stop him.
"I have to do a good job, or you won't want to hire me," he points out, like this is real. He's having fun, that's for sure. He frowns suddenly when my stomach makes a growling noise. "Did you eat dinner, Clark?"
Back to the real world. "Wasn't hungry."
"I'll make you something. You do have food in the house?"
"That's your job." I don't want to go back to the real world. "You're the houseboy."
He smiles again. "Right. I've got a lot to learn. But then I'm new at this."
He starts scrubbing again, now down to the backs of my legs, and I resist the urge to reach down and start stroking my cock. I want him to take care of it. I want to find out what he thinks a houseboy is good for.
He dips the washcloth in the water and wrings it out, then turns on the water again. "Now to get you rinsed off."
I get down into the water and let him use the washcloth again, and soon I'm soap-free. He smiles then and shuts off the water. "A good houseboy takes care of everything, right?"
"Yes." Clay's a goddamned tease, but as long as he gets his hand or his mouth on my cock soon, I'll forgive him.
"I want to be a very good houseboy," he murmurs, then yeah, he's bending over, and I can feel his breath on the head. It's all I can do not to grab his head and force him down on my cock, but this is Clay, and I never want to hurt Clay. He won't tease forever.
And then his mouth is taking me in, and yeah, this is worth waiting for. He's using every bit of that skill of his to lick and suck and mouth me, and I just hope that I can last longer. He's so good, so hot, so mine. Bent over my body, sucking my cock, playing a game that he went into eyes open. Wanting me, needing me.
He stops, and I groan, then get out words. "Finish, dammit."
"Of course, unless you want to fuck me." His mouth is still there, so close I can feel the breath, and my cock is throbbing, but he's offering me more. I never turn down a chance to fuck Clay.
"Lube in the cabinet."
He gets to his feet and goes over to get it. "Been fucking other guys, Clark?"
"You know better than that."
He smiles. "Good. I want you all to myself."
My god. I think the world is ending. I know he feels that way, but that he's saying it... I don't care about the game any more. "Hurry up." I've got my hand around the base of my cock, squeezing, and I think I'm going to be able to last long enough to come in him.
His face is tight as he works his fingers into his ass. It's too hot seeing that. Clay's getting himself ready for me to fuck him, and yeah, he just hit his prostate, because his face isn't tight any more. "Don't come without me, Clay."
"I won't. I need this too much." He hands the tube to me. "You know I need you to fuck me, right?"
"Yeah." I'm coating my cock with lube, making sure I don't sink back down in the water and wash it off. He reaches over and opens the drain to let some water out. I flash him a grin, and he smiles back. We both want this. Both need it. How the hell did I get so lucky?
"I do need you, Clark," he says in a low voice as he closes the drain and gets carefully into the tub, then lowers himself, facing me, his knees on either side of my body. It takes a moment for my cock to get through the ring of tight muscle, but he relaxes enough so that I can, and then I'm in that heat I love so much.
"Need you, too," I whisper. Maybe I'm dreaming. I've had dreams like this, where Clay comes to me and says what I want to hear, but this feels so real, and I want it to be real.
He's staring at me. "I know."
He takes a breath, then starts moving, rising up, then lowering himself again. It's too much of a tease, and I grab his hips, then thrust up into him, good and hard. He moans and lets me. A few of those, and I can see he's ready to come.
"Stroke yourself." My voice is harsher than I'd want it to be with him, but he just licks his lips and does it. I keep fucking him and get off watching him jerk off with my cock taking his ass. His eyes screw tight and he moans again as he stiffens and comes. His come is warm against my skin, and I keep my hands on his hips, holding him to me.
This is one hell of a bath.
He lifts himself off me after a minute and smiles. "Do I get the job?"
"Yeah," I say and smile back. No question about that.
The End