Title: Proving it

Author: Gail

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Clayton Webb/Harmon Rabb

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Palmer makes trouble for Rabb and Webb, and slash ensues.

Archive: yes to the usual places: Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.

Email: gem225@hotmail.com

Web Pages: http://free.freespeech.org/gem/work/main.html and the
Unholy Trinity, http://www.strangeplaces.net/trinity/main.htm

Disclaimer: The characters herein portrayed belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS, not me, except for Tom Stone and Jack Kelleher, both of whom are mine.

Warning: coercion with guns involved. Please don't read this if that squicks you.

Spoilers: Imposter

This story would come sometime after "Webb of Lies", but I don't know if it's before "Wilderness of Mirrors" or if "Wilderness of Mirrors" never happened in this universe. I suspect the latter.

I read Lyrica's Proof of Ownership, an X-Files slash, and got inspired to write this after Scarlet encouraged me to imagine what would happen if something similar happened with JAG characters. I changed it around, of course. Lyrica's wonderful story can be found at her site, https://www.squidge.org/~theforest/lyrica/lyrica.html .

This was beta'd by Tinnean, Lyrica, Scarlet, and Elizabeth. They're great people to do so much to help me fix my story.

Proving it
By Gail
*****

Like hell Palmer's going to fuck me.

"Come on, Harm, it'll be good. I promise."

Palmer's smile is too damned amused and cocky for my taste, and I glare at him, then glance at Clayton Webb. How the hell did Palmer get him to come here? Probably at gunpoint. Palmer's just that kind of guy. I got lured to this building by the promise of information about a case that's been driving me crazy. When I walked in the lobby, expecting to meet the person who'd sent me the message, Palmer and a friend were waiting for me. They brought me up to this room, and Clay was already there with a couple more of Palmer's men. Now we're all in here together, making three of them, plus Palmer, to watch two of us.

I hate getting tricked by Palmer, and I hate it when he starts those damned mind games he loves to play on me.

"No way, Palmer."

Palmer's still smiling. "Fine. The guys will hold you down so that I can fuck you. No problem. Maybe I'll let them have you first, loosen you up for me. Bet you've always wanted to get fucked, Harm."

I'm not answering that or looking at any of the assholes standing around. They're three Palmer- clones in their gray suits, with their shiny guns and cold eyes trained on us. Looks like this used to be an office building and this an office, but there's no desk, nothing but a small file cabinet against the wall on my left, a folding chair by the file cabinet, and a long metal table in front of Clay and me. No windows and a couple of fluorescent lights in the ceiling.

Palmer turns to smile at Clay. "But then there's you to fuck, too. What a dilemma."

Clay's staying calm, and I'm glad of that. Somebody needs to be calm.

"I'm sure you'll work it out," is all he says.

Maybe Palmer's idea doesn't bother him; it sure as hell bothers me.

We're not bound, but Palmer's got that psychotic look in his eyes, and the guys with the guns look ready to use them. I'm good, and I know that Clay is, too, but I'm not suicidal. Palmer already told us he doesn't want us dead, but he's still Palmer; he could do anything. He's got a gun, too. He showed it to us first thing, just what I'd expect from him.

"It's going to be fun introducing you to sex with a guy. I'm sure you've never done that before." Palmer walks around us as he talks, slowly, coming too close. "You're too repressed to have a guy in your bed."

He laughs. Fucking bastard. I want to go for his throat, but I hold myself back. Can't let him win, and that would do it. He'd love to watch me die.

Palmer moves away, but stays on our side of the table, and Clay looks at me. I can't read his smile, but I know he's got a plan. Good that he's thinking; I'm not coming up with anything. I can't seem to think that well.

Clay clears his throat.

"Problem, Clay?" Palmer's voice still has that laugh in it.

"Harm's not repressed. Your information's out of date."

"You mean you and Rabb - ?"

What? Clay wants Palmer to think I like guys? He's crazy. Palmer will never buy that. But maybe we can do it. Hell, I'm smarter than Palmer, always have been, and Clay's pretty smart. Why not?

Clay nods, and Palmer laughs again. "You're just saying that to get you both out of this."

"Am I? Ask Harm."

"Fine. Rabb, you sleeping with Webb?"

If this will get Palmer to stop, I can say it, even though it's a lie. No need to worry about lying to Clark Palmer. Palmer taunted me about my high-school theater classes when he was making the mask of my face, but I can act well enough to fool him. I wait a breath, then look down and answer. "I am." Good, I got that embarrassed tone I was going for. He'd expect it. He must be expecting anger, too. I can do anger. "Not that it's any of your business."

Palmer stares at me, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful, then he gives me that mocking smile he's so good at and turns to Clay. "He's lying. So are you. Harmon Rabb would never sleep with a guy. Not even you, Clay."

"I know what I know," Clay says softly and smiles. "Harm's mine."

Shit, hearing him say that, I believe him, and I know it's not true.

Palmer gives Clay a long look. "Well, that is interesting. But it doesn't matter. I'm still going to fuck both of you."

He takes a few steps over to me, and I tense. I want to stop him, and I think I could take him if I got a good jump, but there's still a guy with a gun on me, one on Clay, too. They'd shoot.

"You're not going to touch him." Clay's voice is sharp.

Palmer stops. "Why not? Oh, you want me to fuck you first? Fine, Clay. No problem."

"If you touch him, I'll hunt you down and kill you."

I don't think I've seen Clay this cold before, but it doesn't seem to throw Palmer.

"For this? Clay, we both know the rules, and taking someone captive and having sex with them doesn't get you killed. It's one of the risks of our line of work."

"Touching what's mine gets you killed."

"Well, well, well." Palmer's eyes are so damned bright. "That sounds like you mean it, Clay."

"I do."

Clay's doing a good job lying to Palmer. Maybe he'll convince Palmer to leave us alone and let us go.

"But this is Harmon Rabb." Palmer's smile is mocking when he turns it on me. "Hard to believe he'd let even you put your cock in his ass."

Palmer's an asshole. He would have to put it so crudely. I fucking hate him. I try to stop my scowl, but I can't. I'd never want a guy to do that.

Palmer's laugh has too much joy in it for my taste. "Look at his face, Clay. You're lying, I knew it. Harm's not yours."

Clay just stares at Palmer for a moment, then he turns to me. "Tell him."

I didn't know Clay had that kind of voice, so commanding. I swallow, but before I can say that I'm his again, Palmer's talking.

"I'm tired of hearing you two talk. If Harm's yours, show me."

Show him? How? He thinks I'm going to kiss Clay or something? Or even...no, he can't mean... Like hell I'm going to let that happen. I'm sweating, and the damned fluorescent lights are giving me a headache. But I can handle this if Clay can.

Clay doesn't even look at me before he answers. Just like him to be that sure I'll go along.

"If that's what it takes, fine. You agree to let us go after I'm through with him?"

*After I'm through with him.* That's colder than I've heard Clayton Webb talk in a long time. I don't like hearing it, but that doesn't matter. He's doing a better job of acting than I thought he would.

"Sure thing, Clay."

"Tell your friends to leave. We're not stupid enough to try anything. It's not a public exhibition."

"Not yet. Show me something first."

Clay nods, then looks at me. "Harm, come over here."

I don't take orders from Clayton Webb. But I want to get the hell out of here, and there's no way Clay's going to do anything too terrible in front of Palmer. He's still Clayton Webb. I can't even imagine him having sex. So I walk over to him, and he slings an arm around my waist and pulls me against his side. All right, I can handle this. I take a deep breath. Nice spicy smell coming off Clay, and he's warm. Didn't know I was that cold. I press against his warmth, and his arm tightens.

"More." Palmer's eyes are even brighter now, and he licks his lips as he stares at me. He's getting off on this, damn him. "Come on, Clay. Kiss him."

"Not with them here."

"Stone, Kelleher, if Mr. Webb doesn't kiss Commander Rabb in the next five seconds, separate and restrain them, using whatever force is necessary."

"Yes, Mr. Palmer," they answer in unison.

They'll do it. The DSD is full of thugs.

Clay turns to face me, and his face is tight. Then he blows out a breath, reaches up, pulls down my head, and presses his lips against mine. He's kissing me, his tongue stroking my closed lips. I never thought I'd let a guy kiss me.

"Very good," Palmer drawls. "Mr. Webb has seen sense. Out, but stay by the door."

Clay's hand leaves my neck. Good. I pull away to see the assholes file out of the room. We could take Palmer now, but there's still his gun, and that door is the only way out.

When the door shuts, Palmer picks up a folding chair and opens it, then sits down.

"Get going, Clay. Show me more. And if Harm's yours, he'd better show me that, too, not just stand there and take it like a robot. Make him work."

He sounds so damned cool, even though I know he's loving this. Fucking Palmer.

Clay doesn't answer him. He looks up at me, and I think that's compassion I see in his eyes. Hard to think of him being compassionate.

"I know you can't want to do this in front of him, but I'll make it good for you." Clay reaches up to my chest, and my nipple hardens as his finger rubs it through my shirt. "You know I always do."

I swallow as his finger moves to my other nipple and gets it hard, too. I'm doing this to get out of here, I remind myself. I have to lie as well as Clay does.

"Yeah. You do." That came out all right. Can't show Palmer anything like fear. He'll jump on it.

Clay smiles at me, and I wonder how this is for him. He can't want this any more than I do. He turns his head to where Palmer's standing, watching everything. Watching Clay touch me, watching me like it.

"I didn't come equipped for sex." Clay's voice is cool now. "I assume you've got lubricant and condoms?"

Clay takes his hands away, and I make myself stay near him. I'm not going to screw this up.

"Tell me you're not going to let Rabb fuck you, Clay. I don't want to see that."

"Who's been giving the orders, Clark?"

I don't like how certain of me Clay sounds, but he's handling Palmer, so I keep my mouth shut. I'm only taking orders because it's the smart thing to do, because it's fooling Palmer. I know that, and so what if Palmer doesn't? I don't give a damn what he thinks.

"Good point." Palmer gets up and rummages through the file cabinet. "Here you go. It's a full bottle." He puts it on the table by the wall, then tosses a strip of condoms next to it. "Enjoy."

Condoms. So that Clay can... fuck me. I want to tell Clay I've never done this before. That I can't do it. That this has to stop. But I can't tell him that, not in front of Palmer, and it would only make things worse for both of us.

Clay uses both hands to pull my head down this time. His lips go to my ear. "Play along, Harm," he murmurs, then he's sucking my lobe into his mouth.

He's right. I've got to play along. I can play along. I get my arms around him, feeling the soft wool of his suit jacket and his solid body, hard where I'm used to soft, but I can't get myself to do anything else. This is too weird.

"Nice show, but it looks to me like Harm's just letting you do this."

Palmer's too damned smart. He's coming over. I don't want Clark Palmer touching me. I stiffen, but Clay's arms don't let me go.

"I'll help you out. You need it."

"I told you, I'll kill you if you touch him." Clay's glaring at Palmer, who's standing beside us.

"Sure, but I don't believe Harm's yours; I think you're both lying. Make me believe this, Clay, or you can watch while I shove my dick all the way up Harm's ass and make him like it."

Palmer's smile and words gives me chills. He'd really fuck me. He'd really fuck Clay. He'd give me to the guys with the guns, Clay, too, and he'd enjoy it all. I knew that, but it's really sinking in now. No matter how well I think I know Palmer, I never really do. He's insane.

Clay doesn't answer Palmer. He surprises me by letting go of me and stepping back, then he stares at me with cool, expressionless eyes. "Take off your shirt." He's already reaching for his jacket.

At least I'm not in my uniform. Palmer would enjoy that too much. I get some buttons of my shirt undone, but my fingers don't want to move, don't want to do this. They're shaking, dammit. Have to hide this from Palmer.

Clay's already got his jacket and tie off, and he's unbuttoning his shirt. How can he be so cool?

"You're slow, Harm," Palmer's mocking voice comes. At least he went back to his chair before we started undressing. "That your idea of a strip-tease? Could be better."

"Stay out of this," Clay snaps at him.

"Oh, sorry, Clay."

I know Palmer's not sorry, and Clay has to know, too, but Clay doesn't say anything. He steps closer to me and pushes my hands out of the way. "I'll do it."

His fingers get my shirt undone in a few moments, and then he's got his warm hands on my ribs, fingertips caressing the skin. I'm breathing faster. This is Clayton Webb. I don't want him, don't want any guy. But I have to convince Palmer I do, so it's good that I'm reacting this way, good that I feel my cock hardening. It doesn't mean anything.

Clay takes his hands off me, and I wish he hadn't. No. I didn't think that.

"Take off my shirt," he says quietly, and I nod.

This is just because Palmer's being an asshole, I tell myself again. Nothing else. There's no way this would happen otherwise. I have to remember that.

I get my hands up and take hold of the edges and push the shirt back over his shoulders and arms. He's watching me, a look I can't read on his face. I used to be able to read him.

"Can't say you look like you're having fun either, Clay." Palmer just can't shut up, nothing new.

"I am."

I flinch at the confidence in Clay's voice. He sounds like he wants this. Does he? I look at him, and he gives me a look of annoyance back. Yeah, that's Clayton Webb, playing the part. He's responding for the same reason I am, because we have to make this look good. I draw Clay's shirt off and put it with mine on the table. He reaches down and pulls up his undershirt, then off. Clay's got muscles. Never knew that. I keep my eyes on his face. I'm not going to check out Clay's body like I've never seen it before.

Clay tosses the undershirt on the table, then smiles reassuringly at me and pulls me against him in almost the same movement. He's kissing me again. This time his tongue pushes against my lips more insistently, and after a moment I open them. His tongue darts in. It's not as strange as I thought, having a guy's tongue in my mouth. I could kiss him back. No, don't need to do that. But I could do it. I'm supposed to act like I'm Clay's lover. Won't hurt to try.

I flick my tongue against his, and he deepens the kiss. That's even better. He tastes like peppermint. I like it.

"Nice."

That comment from Palmer breaks the mood. I try to pull away, but Clay won't let me. His arms tighten, and one hand is down on my ass. Jesus, it feels weird to have Clayton Webb stroking my ass. He pulls me in closer, and I can feel he's hard. I'm hard, too, and he has to be able to feel that. All right, weird isn't the right word for all this. Try unreal. I hope Clay doesn't come around JAG for a long time. It's going to be embarrassing as hell to face him.

Clay finally pulls his mouth off mine. I'm breathing hard, and it takes me a moment to take in what he says next.

"I want you on your knees."

On my knees? I open my mouth to tell him he's out of his mind, then I remember what's going on. I don't get to do that. We're convincing Palmer that we're lovers, and Palmer wants Clay in charge. Not a surprise. Palmer hates me, just like I hate him. I shut my eyes and bend my knees. I hear Palmer's soft laugh as I hit the floor.

There are hands on my head for a moment, then they're gone. I wait. Maybe this will be enough, and Clay will tell me to get back up. But then there's the sound of a zipper, then something nudging at my mouth.

"Good. Make him suck you." Palmer's voice has a fierce joy in it.

I hate when he's happy. But I open my mouth and take in the head, and Clay's hand comes down to rest on my right cheek. His hand is soft, but his cock is hard. Hard for me? Couldn't be. I wonder who he's thinking of to keep it up in front of Palmer.

"Take it slow," Clay murmurs, his fingers moving over my stubble. "But take it all, Harm. You know I like it when you do that."

I don't know anything of the sort, but he knows that. Palmer's the one that we're fooling, and we're going to fool him, no matter that means. Strange taste, bitter, but sweet underneath. Do I taste like that?

I feel Clay's fingers tighten. "More," he breathes, and dammit, I know I have to do what he says. Only because Palmer's fucking with us both. That's the only reason I take more of Clay's cock into my mouth, the only reason he's hard, the only reason I'm so incredibly hard.

"Maybe Harm is yours." Palmer's got that damned laugh in his voice again. "I like this a lot."

"He -" Clay takes a breath, and I know that it's because of something I did, because of my mouth, my tongue, and I like that, "- is mine, Palmer."

"Hey, as long as he's sucking your cock or taking it up his ass, I won't touch him."

Palmer is enjoying this. Damn him. I have to ignore him enough to do this. He has to believe that Clay and I are lovers.

"Good job, Harm," Clay whispers and strokes my cheek again. The gentleness feels good. I wonder if he's always like this in bed. Now why the hell would I care how he is in bed?

He pulls his cock out of my mouth, and I'm relieved. It was weird sucking cock, weird wanting Clay to like what I did, and my cheek muscles are tight. I'll have to remember this the next time a woman goes down on me.

"Get up." Clay gives me a long, cool look when I stand, and Palmer's smiling again. "Get out of your pants."

No. He's not going to do that. There's no way I can let that happen. What would it feel like to have a cock in my ass? I'm not thinking that. I don't want it. But if it's going to happen, better Clay than Palmer.

Clay moistens his lips, and I remember how that tongue felt in my mouth. "Take off your pants, Harm."

He's staring into my eyes, and there's something there, a heat, a command, that makes me do as he says. My hands go down to my waist, and I'm undoing the button and unzipping my zipper and pushing the jeans down. As soon as they clear my crotch, Clay's hand is there to hold and stroke my erection.

"Mine," he whispers, those eyes still full on mine, and I'm lost.

I want it. I don't care that Palmer's here. I don't care that it's against the Navy's rules. I don't care that I've never thought about this before in my life. I want Clayton Webb to make me come, even if it means him fucking me.

This is insane. I'm insane. It's Palmer's fault.

"You like when I fuck you," Clay murmurs and squeezes my cock with those warm fingers, and I hear myself moan. "You know you do."

"Yeah, fuck him, Clay," Palmer mutters, and there's a dark, happy note in his voice.

I don't even care this is making Palmer happy. Clayton Webb's going to fuck me, and I want him to.

Clay takes his hand away, and I want it back. "Get them off, Harm."

I kick off my sneakers and get out of my jeans as he gets out of his pants, and he takes them and puts them with the rest of the clothes, then pulls me against him again. His mouth takes mine, and one hand goes down to stroke my ass, while the other one stays up on my back. Want this so much. Want him so much. My cock's so hard, and it's up against his warm, smooth skin. I move against him as best I can without breaking the kiss. He kisses damned well.

When he pulls back, I'm panting even harder than before.

"You want more, don't you, Harm? I know you do. You always want more."

"Jesus," I hear someone whisper, and it takes me a moment to know who that is. Clark Palmer. I tense, but then Clay's hand goes to my cock, and that wipes out everything else. Yes, I want more. I want it now.

"Hands on the table, Harm, and spread your legs."

Clay's low whisper makes me shiver, but I do what he says. Then there are hands on my ass, warm hands that keep moving, getting me hotter. Clay's hands. My cock's hard as hell, and it throbs against the table. I move my hips so that it rubs against the smooth coolness, but that doesn't help. I could get myself off, just reach down and grab my cock and stroke it the way I know how and come, but then I'd never find out what it was like to get fucked. And then Palmer would do what he wanted. I still don't want *him*.

I open my eyes and stare at Palmer, who's still in the chair and leaning forward with his elbows on the edge of the table and his chin resting on his hands. He's getting off on seeing me like this. I know it from the brightness in his eyes. I know Palmer.

He grins at me. "You're pretty hot like that, Harm. Tell me you like having Clay fuck you."

"I want him to fuck me." It comes out rough and desperate, but I don't care.

"I'll fuck you, Harm." Clay's voice is full of dark promise, and his fingers are caressing my crack and balls. I spread my legs farther apart to get more. "Good," he whispers, and the fingers leave.

I moan. I want them back.

Next I feel something cool being spread over my hole. I wait for a finger to enter me, but that doesn't happen. Why not? Hell, I know what getting fucked by a guy means, and I'm the one who's going to be taking it. Makes sense for him to start with a finger. Clay wouldn't just shove his cock in me. The fingers keep stroking, and I hear myself making noises I've never heard from me, begging noises. I take a deep breath, and there's a finger pushing into me, but there are fingers on my balls, getting me to open for it. Another finger pushes in, and Clay's fucking me with them, in and out. Not bad. I can take this. Then I cry out from one thrust. What the hell did he do that made it so good?

He does it again, and I'm glad I've got the table to hold me up. My body's shaking. I want to come, and I want his cock in me now. I want it. I can't stop moaning.

The fingers are gone, but there's something pressing against my hole, and it pushes in smoothly, stretching me so damned much. The pain is harsh, burning, but then it gets less as I breathe, and the burning turns into something I could like. Something a hell of a lot like pleasure.

I know that it's Clay's cock in me. He's fucking me. I want him to fuck me. I wish he'd say something, but he doesn't, and I'm not going to open my eyes and see whatever the hell Palmer's doing. That won't help me relax.

"So good." Clay's voice is strained as he thrusts into me, and then that feeling comes back, that flash of excitement, and I'm harder than ever. "Always this good with you."

He's still making sure Palmer thinks we're lovers, even when he's fucking me. That makes me hotter, along with the way he keeps hitting that spot that drives me crazy. I push back against him to get more.

Clay's fucking me harder. I love it. I can't believe I love it. His fingers come around my cock, warm and certain, driving me over the edge. I'm coming, hard and long, so hard and long and right. There's a moment that I feel him stop, then he makes a harsh sound, and I know he's coming, too.

He pulls out of me, slowly, but it makes me wince with the pain. Christ, I just got fucked. I liked getting fucked. I came getting fucked.

I open my eyes, and it gets worse. Palmer's staring right at me, one of his damned smiles on his face, and I know he's going to say something.

"Well?" Clay's voice is calm. Never know he'd just come. How does he do it?

"He's yours, all right. No question about that."

Palmer sounds amused, but he has to be pissed. We beat him at his own game.

I blink and try to push myself off the table, but I can't manage. Clay's hands are there, helping me up. They're still so warm, and I'm glad of the help.

"Then we can go?" I want to get out of here.

"Might want to get dressed first, Harm, but yeah, you can go. You, too, Clay."

He watches us get dressed. Clay has to help me get my shirt buttoned again. I can't manage it with how my fingers are shaking again. Can't stop thinking about how hot I got. Have to stop. It's over. We fooled Palmer. It'll never happen again. Clay has to know that.

Palmer's standing now. "Thanks for the show." His grin flashes, and I fight the urge to hit him.

Clay's hand comes on my arm, and even though the shirt, it tingles. I really need to get out of here. I need to get myself back to normal.

"Come on, Harm." Clay tugs on my arm.

I look at Clay, who's back to his normal spook self. His suit's a little wrinkled, but I've seen him like that before.

Palmer opens the door, and I pull away from Clay and go out. It's over. It's really over. I'm glad.

I am glad, dammit.

Next time I see Clayton Webb, everything will be back to normal. We both know why this happened, and we both know there's no way it will ever happen again.

No way at all.

*****

"Mr. Webb is here, Mr. Palmer."

"Show him in." He's right on time, but I didn't expect anything else. I just got here myself. It's good to be out of that dump.

Deals that benefit both sides are best, and this one got us both what we wanted. I got Harm made to do what he'd never do without pressure, a nice revenge for his screwing with me, and Clay got Harm where he's wanted him for a while now. Webb and I don't trust each other, but we don't have to. We keep our word to each other. That's what counts.

Clay walks in and sits down in the chair opposite mine.

"So you had Harmon Rabb. Was it worth it, Clay?"

He gives me a cool smile. "I enjoyed myself."

"He liked it." He sure as hell did. I got to watch his face as he got fucked and as he came. I lick my lips. Harm looked good getting fucked, but I knew he would.

"He knows where to find me if he wants it again."

Sounds like Clay wants Harm to come and beg. Can't say I blame him. He sounded pretty good begging. Might be fun to have him begging me. "We can always make another deal if you don't want to wait. I don't mind being the bad guy." Hell, it's fun.

"I'll think about it."

Clay leaves, and I stand. Time for me to fuck someone. I've waited long enough. That show was hot.

"Stone? Get in here."

He walks in, see my smile, and bows his head. I like a man who gets the situation. Would have been nice to fuck Clay or Harm, but this will do for now. Maybe Clay will want my help again. I know he'll want to take another run at Harm. Hell, maybe I'll take a run at Harm myself. Clay shouldn't mind, now that he's gotten his.

And we both know that Harmon Rabb's hooked.

The End