Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Harmon Rabb
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A. J. Chegwidden gets a tape in the mail and is very surprised when he watches it.
Archive: yes to Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Sequel to Proving it
Web Pages: http://members.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. But I love them a lot, and they like me enough to talk to me.
Lyrica kindly gave me the idea for this story. Tinnean cheered me on, as she always does. Scarlet and Elizabeth beta'd, and both of them had some fine ideas that improved my story. I thank all of them.
Proving It: Showtime
by Gail
*****
A. J. Chegwidden, home from the Judge Advocate General Corps, out of his uniform and into a casual shirt and pants, headed back to his kitchen to get some water and to go through the mail that he'd grabbed on his way in earlier. He sorted through the pile of bills and junk mail and found a small package as well. There was no return address on the package, and A. J. frowned. He couldn't remember ordering anything. This was suspicious.
He checked out the package, and, satisfied that it had no hidden traps or explosives, opened it to find a videotape, with a computer-printed label that read: Commander Rabb's Recent Activities. This was about Rabb? He didn't need any more problems, and he certainly didn't need any that involved Harmon Rabb. His lips set in a grimace as he put down the empty glass, then strode into the living room. He had to watch this tape and see if it required further action on his part. Funny that it had been sent to his home and not his office. But then a lot of funny things happened with Commander Harmon Rabb under his command.
He turned on the TV and VCR and inserted the tape, then sat down on his couch and hit the play button. There were a few moments of snow, and he wondered if this was all a practical joke. Then there was a picture, a closeup of a man on his knees, his bare back shining with sweat, and his mouth open, with a hard cock at his lips. Harmon Rabb on his knees with a hard cock at his lips. What the hell? Rabb and some man? Rabb knew it was against the Navy's regulations to engage in homosexual activities. But he was engaging in them. That much was clear from the tape.
He would have sworn on a witness stand that Rabb was only interested in women. But he looked damned interested in getting that cock into his mouth. Who was the lucky man?
He leaned forward as the action rolled. Rabb was taking in the head, his eyes closed, and a man's hand was resting on Rabb's cheek. A. J. tensed as the fingers of that hand moved, caressing Rabb. He didn't like seeing that, and he didn't like that he didn't like it.
"Take it slow. But take it all, Harm. You know I like it when you do that."
He recognized the voice, but he couldn't place it. He frowned, then rewound the tape to hear it again, then again. On the third play, he saw the ring on the caressing hand, a ring that he knew, and that with the voice gave him the name. It was Clayton Webb's voice saying that. That was Clayton Webb's cock in Rabb's mouth. But they hated each other, A. J. thought. Well, whatever their previous feelings, they didn't seem to hate each other at the time the tape was made, or the hatred was overcome by the need. And there was what Webb had said: "You know I like it when you do that." As though Rabb had done this before. How long had this been going on? No wonder Rabb had been so broken up when Webb had been reported dead, although Rabb had had a girlfriend then, he thought. Rabb's business. Not his.
"More," Webb ordered, and A. J. saw Rabb lean forward and take more of Webb's cock into his mouth. Rabb on his knees, sucking cock. A. J. shifted, his cock stirring. Harmon Rabb on his knees. Although he'd tried his best to suppress them, he'd had thoughts about Harmon Rabb on his knees in front of him. In his office, in his bedroom, hell, in the bullpen with everyone watching.
How had Webb gotten Rabb on his knees? How good was Rabb?
His hand moved from the remote to his thigh.
"Good job, Harm."
Webb sounded breathless. Rabb must have done all right. A. J. watched Webb's fingers stroke Rabb's cheek again before he pulled out of Rabb's mouth. The camera zoomed in on Webb's cock, showing how wet his cock was, how hard, how reddened, how ready. Webb had a nice cock. Good size, not too big, not too small.
Had Webb sent him the tape? Didn't make sense. Webb wouldn't want anyone to know about this; as far as he could tell, Webb hated people knowing what kind of suits he preferred. Webb was as private as all hell.
But someone had sent it to him.
"Get up. Get out of your pants." Webb's voice was cool and clear.
A. J. swallowed. He'd figure that out later. It didn't matter. What mattered was finding out what happened next, although he had a good idea. Someone was going to get fucked, if not now, then at some point. He could see a strip of condoms on the table by them, and a small opaque bottle that had to be lubricant.
Rabb stood and stared at Webb, his hands going to his belt but nothing more. He could see Webb's face for the first time, and it was full of command and passion and focused on Rabb. He was as sexy as hell. Clayton Webb, sexy. The world was full of surprises.
Would Webb get on his knees for Rabb now? That would be something to see, but somehow he doubted it. Webb was in charge. It was obvious. And that Rabb was loving it, that was obvious too.
"Take off your pants."
This time Rabb's hands moved, getting his pants undone, then pushing them down. Webb was right there, and A. J. stared as Webb's hand took Rabb's cock and stroked it with no hesitation.
"Mine," Webb whispered, and A. J. could tell he meant it.
They were lovers. They had to be. Clayton Webb and Harmon Rabb were lovers. Rabb seemed a little nervous, but that could have been because of the taping. He couldn't imagine Webb getting into a situation where he'd be taped without knowing it. Not Webb. No, Webb and Rabb knew they were being taped. But why had he gotten a copy? Had someone stolen this from Webb or Rabb? Was someone trying to get Rabb in trouble? That made sense. But he didn't want to think about that now. He wanted to see more. Didn't want to think at all, just see and feel and want.
A. J.'s fingers were resting on his crotch now, and his cock was hard, wanting more than just that passive presence. He wet his lips. What was going to happen now? Was Webb going to get on his knees after all? He wouldn't mind seeing that. He'd had some fantasies about Clayton Webb, too. Webb had been trouble for him, and thinking about having Webb make up for being that trouble had gotten him off and to sleep some nights.
"You like when I fuck you," Webb murmured next, and A. J. saw Rabb's face go slack. Webb's hand was tight around Rabb's cock. "You know you do." There was silence, then Webb took his hand away, showing A. J. how damned hard Rabb was, too. "Get them off, Harm."
A. J. undid his zipper and slipped his fingers in to stroke his cock, then eased it out. Rabb was going to take Webb's cock in his ass. Rabb looked like he wanted that more than anything. A. J. let go of himself, jamming the fingers of his right hand into his mouth to suck on them hard, getting them wet, then wrapping the spit-wet fingers around his cock. Oh, yes. That was what A. J. wanted, but not all he wanted. A. J. wanted to be Clayton Webb, whose eyes were gleaming as he got out of his clothes and watched Harmon Rabb strip off his jeans with a frenzy that made A. J. breathe harder as he stroked his cock.
As soon as they were both naked, Webb reached for Rabb, Rabb bending his head so that Webb could kiss him, Webb's hands on Rabb's back and ass. Webb and Rabb glued together, grinding against each other, together. Rabb with Webb. Webb. Not him.
Damn this. A. J. groaned and made himself close his fingers around his erection, holding off the orgasm he could feel building. It was too soon to come. He had to get his control back. Fine, he had sexual fantasies about Harmon Rabb, but he could deal with that. He had to deal with that.
"You want more, don't you, Harm? I know you do. You always want more." Webb's voice was so damned smooth and certain, and Rabb was staring at him like he was everything he wanted. Damn Rabb for that.
A. J.'s fingers tightened around his cock as he watched Webb take Rabb's cock in his hand again. Rabb wanted to be fucked so much, was so lost in his desire for Webb that it was driving A. J. crazy.
"Hands on the table, Harm, and spread your legs."
A. J. stared as Harm obeyed, then as Webb got behind him. The camera had changed angles and was now showing them both from the side instead of the front, so A. J. could see how Webb's fingers caressed Rabb's ass, sliding over each inch of his skin, taking his time, Rabb all the while grinding against the table, his head bent submissively, waiting, taking whatever Webb gave him. Taking it and wanting more.
A. J. couldn't stop watching, didn't want to, wanted to see more. What was Webb waiting for? Rabb to beg? Maybe Rabb would beg.
"Fuck me."
So Rabb had begged. Webb's smile was satisfied as he answered, and A. J. moved his fingers down to his balls just as Webb did the same with Rabb.
"I'll fuck you, Harm."
Rabb shifted and spread his legs more, bending his head even more, and A. J. gritted his teeth. If he were there, he'd get his cock into Rabb's ass so fast Rabb's head would spin. Rabb wanted to be fucked, dammit. Rabb was begging for Clayton Webb to fuck him.
"Good."
Webb took his hands away and reached for the strip of condoms, tearing one open and rolling it over his cock, then he opened the small bottle and squeezed some of the contents on his fingers. Rabb was trembling and waiting. This was nothing like the Rabb he knew. He liked this Rabb, but he wanted this Rabb waiting for him, not Webb.
A. J. brought his hand back up to his mouth and wet it again, then grabbed his cock and stroked. Webb was smoothing the lubricant on Rabb, getting Rabb ready, and all the while his face showed how much he wanted to get his cock in Rabb's ass. It almost looked to A. J. as though this was the first time for them, but that couldn't be true. Webb was too certain, and Rabb too willing, for that.
Rabb willing. A. J. groaned and pulled hard at his cock, then squeezed again to hold off the orgasm. He wanted to see how willing Rabb could be. There was a part of him that really didn't believe that Rabb was going to take it. He had to see it for himself.
He stared at the screen as Rabb made sounds that made his cock leap and pulse. Begging, pleading, broken sounds of passion, and those sounds for Webb. And Webb was panting himself, glancing up once at something A. J. couldn't see, then back at Rabb. Not at the camera, though. Curious. So someone else was there, taping them. Hard to believe. But then Webb's fingers were in Rabb, and Rabb was taking them, his body begging for more as much as his sounds were, and A. J. moaned. Goddamn Rabb, goddamn Webb, goddamn whomever had sent him this tape for this torture. He should be there, making Rabb moan, and if he had his way, he'd get Clayton Webb desperate to be fucked, too. He wanted to come so much, but he wanted to wait, and his iron will won.
Rabb cried out and shook, and moaned as though he wasn't ever going to stop, and Webb's smile was avid. Webb knew what he was doing to Rabb, A. J. could tell, and he liked doing it to Rabb. Damn, he wished he knew how the two of them had gotten together. When? How? Who had made the first move? And how long had it been going on?
Webb's fingers were out of Rabb now, but his cock was at Rabb's hole and pushing in, and Rabb was clinging to the table and A. J. could only imagine how it felt for him. He let his fingers move on his cock, trying to imagine more what it felt like for Webb. He'd slept with a couple of men, more out of experimentation than anything else, and it had been no problem to give that up as part of his devotion to his career, but he remembered what it was like to sink his cock into a hot, tight ass. From the look of intense passion on Webb's face, Rabb's ass was damned hot and tight. He wanted to be in Rabb's ass, goddammit, and Webb was there.
A. J. licked his lips and kept stroking. Webb was fucking Rabb, long, slow strokes, and Rabb kept taking it, his face screwed up into a grimace. Then the strokes got shorter and harder, and A. J. imitated them, keeping time with Webb. Rabb's body was tense and strained as Webb slammed into him.
"So good. Always this good with you." Webb's voice was rough, but who could blame him? He was getting to fuck Rabb.
A. J. saw Rabb push back against Webb, saw Webb's hips thrust his cock deeper into Rabb. He groaned. Webb fucking Rabb. Rabb taking it. Rabb loving it.
He couldn't wait any longer to come. His fingers sped up and found the rhythm he needed to come as he watched Rabb shuddering, gasping, coming for Clayton Webb. Coming being fucked.
Right after that, the tape went to snow. It took him a few moments to reach for the remote and stop it, then get up and wash himself off. All the time there were the same thoughts running through his head.
Harmon Rabb had begged to be fucked, had liked being fucked, had come being fucked. And he, A. J. Chegwidden, wanted more than anything to be the one who had fucked him. Rabb taking orders from Webb? Rabb was under his command, not some damned spook's. If Rabb was going to be fucked, it should be by him - but no, he couldn't think that way. It would be wrong for him to use his position to make an officer under his command serve him sexually.
He had a problem. And he was going to have to find a way to deal with it that did not involve going after Rabb, or Webb, no matter how much he wanted to.
He rewound the tape, took it out, and put it back in the case, then stored the case in a locked drawer of his desk. Whatever someone had wanted by sending him this, that person was not going to get it, unless that person wanted silence. He would keep Rabb and Webb's secret. He would say nothing to either of them.
And he would watch that tape again. That much he was sure of. That much he knew he couldn't resist doing. And the next time Rabb was in his office, he was going to make sure he kept it short, or he might just break his promise to himself and take those steps over to Rabb and order Rabb down on his knees. He could not allow himself that.
Damn, it was going to be hell at JAG for a while.
The End