Title: Special dirty things
Fandom: JAG/the West Wing crossover
Pairing: Josh Lyman/Clark Palmer, Josh Lyman/Clayton Webb, all three together, sort of
Summary: Josh Lyman struggles with the temptation to call Clark Palmer and have sex again with him.
Archive: Yes to Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB, LauraS's West Wing Slash Archive. All others, Please ask.
Sequel to Sent, which was an AU sequel to Faded by Isilzha.
Web Pages: http://members.freespeech.org/gem/work/main.html http://www.angelfire.com/ma4/gem/work/main.html http://www.strangeplaces.net/trinity/
Disclaimer: Palmer and Webb belong to DPB, or as Page used to call him, the Emperor Belisarius, and Josh belongs to the almighty Sorkin, as Isilzha used to call him.
Spoilers: In the Shadow of Two Gunmen (West Wing).
The title is from Orgy's 'Stitches', on their CD Candyass. The applicable lyrics are: If it stayed I'd never leave it If that turned around I'd grieve the special dirty things that we used to talk about I mean that loving you is strange and adored by me throughout oh no it's you again
Isilzha read this before she died and said it was very hot and introduced me to the song from which the title came, Tinnean read it as well and said wonderfully nice things, and Scarlet beta'd with speed, intelligence, and joy.
Special dirty things by Gail
Josh sat at his desk, staring at the piece of paper. Donna had gone, and most of the senior staff, but he couldn't seem to get up and go. He picked up his mug and took an absent gulp, barely noticing that he was drinking very cold and bitter coffee. The number on the message took all his attention. He knew exactly who it would reach, and all the reasons he shouldn't call, and he also knew if he didn't get up now and leave, he would pick up the phone, punch in the digits, and find out if he was right.
He tried to get himself to stand, but he couldn't. He tried to get himself to take out his wallet and get the other number that might help him deal with this, but that was just as impossible. Hell, why couldn't he remember that other number? He'd called it enough, but it never stuck in his mind.
Finally he closed his eyes and reached for the phone, as though not seeing his hand do that would make it all right. He opened them only long enough to see the number as he dialed, then closed them again.
Josh felt the blood rush to his cock at the cool greeting. "How the hell did you know it was me?"
"You're the only one I gave the number to," the man he now knew as Clark Palmer and not Dave pointed out. "Of course it's you. Or it would be Webb, since you gave him the number," Josh heard how the smooth voice hardened at that, "but I doubt he'd call. He's got you; why would he want me?"
Josh wondered for a moment if Palmer was jealous that Clay wanted him and not Palmer, if that was part of the reason Clark Palmer was doing this, but that didn't really make sense. If Palmer wanted Clay, Palmer could go after Clay. There was no need to put him in the middle. "I don't want anything to do with you, Palmer. Don't call again."
"Funny, but you called me, Josh. Why is that? Webb's in town; you could call him. If you've forgotten his number, I can give it to you. Want it?"
Damn him. Josh wished he could hang up. What the fuck was it about Palmer that he wanted? He had Clay. He knew Clay would be there for him, but he also knew that Clay had come after him because Leo had asked him to. Josh had this nagging feeling that Clay only slept with him because he owed Leo something or other. If he could just see Clay, that feeling would go away, but he knew that Palmer wanted him to get back at Clay. And that Palmer wanted him. How he had both of those in his head, he didn't know. But he did.
"Josh? You there? Webb's still at Langley, you can catch him there. I'll even call him for you if you like." A breath of laughter came to him over the phone. "He won't like hearing from me, but what the hell. Anything for you."
Shit. It had to be that voice. It promised all kinds of special dirty things without even saying them. He didn't want Clay. He wanted Palmer. Damn him. "I can call Clay myself." He would. He'd hang up and call Clay. But his hand wasn't moving.
"Of course you can, Josh," that voice murmured. God, he was so hard from hearing it. It would be so good to reach down and stroke his cock through his pants, but he wasn't going to do that here, in his office in the West Wing of the White House. "But you don't want to, do you? Clay doesn't do anything for you tonight. You want me. That's why you called."
Josh licked his lips. Yes. He would not say that, though.
"Come on, Josh. Clay and some talk and maybe a fuck, or me?" That voice. That promise. All those special dirty things. And damn, he'd only been with the guy once. "Or the bars? You know I'll find you if you go to the bars. I always do."
Josh was silent. He did know that. He'd tried once or twice when Clay had been out of town, and Palmer had been there, watching him. Never making a move, but something about how his eyes followed Josh's every move made Josh end up leaving alone every time.
"This is a boring conversation," Palmer said after a long moment. "I'm hanging up if you don't say something soon. Then I'll find something else to do. You want that?"
Damn him. "I'm here."
"So you are. I was beginning to wonder. So what's your pleasure?"
"I'm going home." He knew he shouldn't say that, knew it as surely as he knew his name, but it was too late.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Yes." Just one stupid word, and he was totally fucked. He wanted to be totally fucked. He had something wrong with him. He should want Clay. He did want Clay, dammit, and he ought to trust that Clay was telling him the truth about wanting him. It was a hell of a lot easier to believe that when he was with Clay. But it was always easy to believe that Clark wanted him. Damn.
"That's better. I was beginning to wonder what I was going to have to do to get to you, baby. But I don't want to have you at your place." Palmer laughed again. "Mine's better. I'll come for you in about an hour. Take a shower and change into something sexy for me. We've got all night; hell, we've got all weekend."
"Fine." What was with him? He'd just agreed to go away for the weekend with this man he didn't even know? He'd lost it.
"That's a good boy." The voice was so damned caressing and right. "See you soon, baby. I'm glad you called."
Josh put down the phone after he heard Palmer end his side of the call, then picked it up. His head was clear now. He couldn't do this, and he wasn't going to call Palmer back to say that. It would be disaster, he knew. Clay. Clay would understand him being this kind of idiot. He dialed and listened to the phone at the other end ring.
"Webb," he heard the familiar brisk voice say, then found he couldn't talk. What was with him? "Yes?" Then the voice gentled. "Josh."
How did he know? Right, caller ID, like everyone in DC had. Josh made himself speak. "Hi."
"It's good to hear from you."
"I," he shouldn't say this, he'd just agreed to go away with Palmer, and he should just handle this on his own, stay the hell away from Clay, but he couldn't, "want to see you. Tonight. Please."
"Of course." Clay's voice was quiet and calm. "Your place or mine?"
"Yours." He didn't want Clay to have to deal with Palmer. Hell, he'd called because *he* didn't want to deal with Palmer. He wouldn't even mention the guy. He'd spend some time with Clay, then go home, and Palmer would have left. Maybe this was best. Palmer would get pissed when he didn't show up, and then he'd move on to some other plan of his, find someone else to torture. To fuck. God, he still wanted Palmer. He had to get over this. He would get over it.
"Have you eaten dinner?"
Josh had to smile at that. Clay sounded as though he wouldn't mind food himself. "I had a doughnut."
"I think I'd better pick something up." Clay's voice was amused now. "Unless spaghetti is all right."
"If you've got some hamburger or sausage to put in the sauce, sure." Josh felt himself relaxing. Why hadn't he been smart enough to just call Clay? Well, he'd been smart enough now, and that's what counted. "Want me to pick something up?"
"I'll take care of it." Clay was laughing now. "Will you eat salad if I get some?"
Josh rolled his eyes. Salad. No, thanks. "No. I'm tired of healthy stuff," he said bluntly, and heard Clay laugh some more.
"Got it. Nothing healthy for you."
"How about some garlic bread?" Hell, why not?
"I don't think so. Not if you expect to do anything more than just eat dinner with me."
Something about Clay's voice changed then, and Josh took a breath. His hard-on had gone away after he'd hung up from Palmer's call, but it was certainly willing to come back for that tone of voice from Clay.
"No garlic bread," he managed. "I'll live."
"All right. Josh, can you tell me what's wrong?"
So he hadn't fooled Clay. He sighed. He should know better. "Yeah, Palmer." He couldn't say anything more, but that should do it.
"Did he call you?" Clay still sounded calm, but he had a tense note in his voice now.
Josh swallowed. "No." Palmer hadn't, he argued to himself. He'd left a message with Donna, but that didn't count as a call.
There was a pause, and Josh wondered just how much Clay had gotten from what he'd said. "All right," he said finally. "I should be there in forty-five minutes with a stop at the store. Maybe an hour."
An hour. That was when Palmer had said he'd be there to get him. Josh found his fingers drumming on his desk and stopped them. "Sure. An hour's fine."
"I'll see you then."
Josh hung up and closed his eyes, then opened them. Should he go to his place and change? Yeah, he could do that, get into something that didn't look like he'd slept in it. Clay wouldn't care what he wore, but he had time, and he didn't feel like trying to get anything more done. He'd go home. He'd ignore Palmer if he was there. Plus, he wouldn't be there.
He was more nervous by the time he got to his apartment, but he got in and out without seeing any sign of Palmer, and was whistling when he slid back into his car. Palmer had just been fucking with him, he told himself. Just playing with his head, like Clay had said he liked to do. Good thing he hadn't counted on Palmer being there.
There was a part of him that wished he *had* been there, but he stomped on it. He was going to see Clay, and that was the big thing. Clay would give him friendship and companionship and sex, and that would be really good.
"I guess you liked it." Clay was smiling as Josh mopped up the last of the sauce with a piece of plain bread.
"Love spaghetti," Josh assured him after he'd swallowed. "You make a great sauce."
Clay took the dishes over to the sink and ran water over them. Josh knew he should get up and help, but it was too much fun sitting and watching Clay. Friday night, he realized. He didn't have to be anywhere in the morning, although he'd probably end up at the West Wing for some of the day. Maybe he and Clay could stay in bed all morning. He grinned again. Yeah.
Clay gave Josh a smile. "Back in a minute."
Clay headed out of the kitchen, and Josh made himself get up. The couch would be more comfortable, and then maybe Clay would watch a movie with him. He was too stuffed for anything else.
He sprawled on the couch and shut his eyes. This was more like it.
"Wake up, baby." His eyes snapped open at the familiar voice, and there was Palmer standing over him. "I don't appreciate being stood up." Palmer had a gun, he realized after a stunned moment, and that gun was aimed at him. Palmer's free hand grabbed his arm and pulled him up. "Hands behind you, baby; I don't have time to fuck around. Don't worry; be a good boy and you won't get hurt." Palmer's voice was low, but Josh could hear he meant it, and before he could really fight, his wrists were cuffed together. "That is a good boy. Now sit and be quiet." He was shoved down on the couch. "Now we wait for Webb. Shouldn't be long."
Just then Josh heard the bathroom door open. Shit. He tried to get to his feet, but he couldn't manage. He was just enough off-balance with his hands behind him and the couch being so deep. He opened his mouth to yell, but then Palmer glanced at him.
"Don't be stupid, Josh, unless you want to get shot again." The words were breathed, and Josh hoped he hadn't heard what he thought he had. Yes, he had. Palmer's eyes told him as much in the brief moment they'd been fixed on him.
"You want to pick out a movie?" Clay sounded happy, and Josh could tell he was coming to the living room. He should warn Clay, but before he could get himself to call out, Clay was in the room.
"Hey, Webb." Palmer had the gun trained on Clay. "I know you're smart enough not to fuck with me."
"Get out of my house." Clay didn't seem scared at all. Good thing someone wasn't. "You're not welcome here."
Palmer laughed. "For god's sake, Clay, I know that. But I'm here. Now don't make a move I don't like, or I shoot."
"I'm not moving."
"Yet," Palmer added. "You want to. All right, Clay, we both know how this works. Get down on the floor and wait. I'll get the cuffs on you, and then nobody's going to have to get shot."
"Like hell I'm letting you restrain me." Clay was angry now. "You should know better than to fuck with me, Palmer. Get out now, before you don't have a choice."
"All right, Clay, then we'll do this the hard way." Josh saw the gun swing toward him again and froze. It was bad enough getting shot once, and that time he hadn't seen the gun. Seeing the gun pointed at him was bad. "You know I will shoot, don't you, Clay? And you don't want me to shoot Josh. I know you don't. Josh, tell him to cooperate."
Josh shook his head. No. He wasn't going to say that.
Palmer laughed. "You're both so cute. Come on, Clay," there was a metallic scary sound, and Josh knew it was the sound of the gun being cocked, "it would be pretty fucking hard to explain to everybody how this happened. And Josh is so pretty. Too pretty to end up in the hospital." Pause. "Or the morgue."
Josh bit down the plea that wanted to come out.
"You can stop this, Clay. And no one will get hurt. Just get down on the floor and let me cuff you." Josh knew if he was the one being addressed, he'd probably do what that smooth, persuasive voice said. "I swear it, Clay. You know I keep my word."
"Fuck you, Palmer. Shoot, don't shoot. But don't try and fuck with me in my own house."
"You don't think I will?" Josh could see Palmer's face, and the intensity and the glee on it scared him. "You know better than that."
"Clay," Josh really couldn't help himself, "please."
Clay looked at him for a second, less than that, but that was enough. Palmer was across the room and slamming Clay against the wall. Josh watched and cursed himself. He should have shut the fuck up. He'd betrayed Clay, helped Palmer.
Clay fought back, but too soon Palmer had Clay's hands behind him. "That's better. God, Clay, you're better than I thought."
He actually sounded like he meant it, Josh thought bitterly. He couldn't meet Clay's eyes as Palmer got Clay over to the couch. At least the gun was gone, but he was sure it was somewhere Palmer could get to it quickly.
"Josh." Clay's voice was quiet still, and Josh looked at him. The left side of his face was red and scraped, and Josh swallowed. Clay was hurt, and it was his fault. "It's all right. Palmer's not going to hurt us. He could have done that without all this show." His eyes went over to Palmer, who was standing in front of them both. Palmer had taken off his jacket after the fight with Clay, and Josh could see he had a shoulder holster like cops on TV for his gun. "Isn't that right, Clark?"
"First name, nice tactic. Don't worry, Clay; I'm not in the mood to kill anyone. But I did get stood up by pretty boy here, and I think I'd like him to make that up to me. And I want you to watch. I get the feeling you don't believe that Josh and I had a really good time that night."
"I believe you. Josh told me how good you were." The calm in Clay's voice made Josh want to vanish. He'd told Clay too much, one night when he'd gotten drunk and called him, and he'd almost forgotten how he'd gone on about 'Dave', as Palmer had called himself that night. Damn. When the fuck would he learn to keep his mouth shut?
"You'd say that no matter what," Palmer said pleasantly and leaned over to Josh. "You'll be a good boy, won't you, Josh? You know you'll enjoy it." With that Palmer's mouth was on his neck, and Josh felt the rush that gave him. He stayed still, screwing his eyes closed. He was not going to let Palmer know he was enjoying this. He was not. "Josh, come on. You're no fun like this."
"Go along with him, Josh." Josh opened his eyes to see Clay's resolute face. "It's all right. Do what he wants."
"Nice to hear you being sensible, Clay," Palmer drawled. "Listen to him, Josh. He's right." His voice dropped. "We can do this easy, or we can do this hard. You won't like hard, unless I've got you pegged all wrong."
Josh saw Clay nod and swallowed. "All right." He damned his voice for being so shaky.
Palmer went back to kissing his neck, and Josh kept his eyes on Clay as long as he could. Then he had to close them. It was too much, seeing Clay while Palmer got him hot. It felt wrong.
"You going to need a bed?" Clay, to Palmer. At least he hoped he was talking to Palmer. If that calm voice was directed at him, he didn't have any words for it.
"No, I can manage here, Clay." Palmer's voice had that purr that made Josh harden and squirm. "Just relax. I want you to see how your boy looks when he's hot. I want you to remember this next time he comes to you to get fucked."
"Sure you don't want to watch instead?" Josh blinked. What the fuck? Clay suddenly sounded a lot like Palmer. He snuck a look at Clay and found cool eyes that weren't even looking at him.
Palmer laughed. "Sure, if I could trust you. I can't. Stop trying to be DSD, Clay; we both know you're not. You're a Company guy."
"But he's coming to *me*, Clark. That has to tell you something."
Clay was trying to play Palmer, Josh realized and shut his eyes again and told himself to shut up. He wasn't going to screw this up, too.
Palmer's fingers were pulling up Josh's t-shirt, stroking his chest, making him shiver. He shouldn't want this, but Palmer was so good, and Clay had said it was all right.
"All it tells me is that you're decent. But then I was sure of that, Clay. You've never had problems finding someone to share your bed, just finding the time and energy to do it." A finger ran over Josh's right nipple, making him gasp. "You want in on the action? Sure, Clay, I'll get you off, too, but you'll have to wait. Josh comes first." He laughed softly. "Josh is a much better boy than you could ever be. Now shut up and pay attention. You might learn something."
Josh felt a wet tongue lapping at his other nipple and moaned. Oh, god, too damned good, and he was bound, and Palmer wanted him... God, no, he wasn't doing this, it wasn't happening.
"Please," he heard someone say, and knew that it was his own voice. He was begging now.
"That's my good boy," he heard Clark breathe as his now-wet nipple was stroked, and his other one pinched. "Tell me you're going to be good, baby. Good boys get all the fun; bad boys have to wait. You don't want to wait, do you? You called because you didn't feel like waiting any more."
"Clark -" And when the hell did he start thinking of him by his first name? All those nights he'd jerked off in his bed, that's when, the answer shot through him. All those fucking nights alone. He moaned and tried to move away, but the hands were too good, too right. "Please, no..."
"No? You don't mean I should stop, do you?"
"No, don't stop, don't." He didn't have a choice, didn't have any choice at all, and why did that feel good? Hell, he'd deal with that later. He couldn't now. He was here now, lost in his body, and it was all too intense to stop.
"Does he beg like this for you, Clay?" Clark's hand pushed him back into the couch, then the other hand was down between his legs, spreading them. He moaned again. Everything but what those hands were doing was so far away. "Ever tied him up?"
"I can talk now?"
Clark chuckled. "If I ask you a direct question, of course, Clay. I'm not a bastard like I've heard the instructors at your Farm are."
"You're getting confused, Clark, but then I'm not surprised. The Farm's not a bad place to train. It's the Yard that's a bad place."
"You know the name? Not bad, Clay." Josh felt those fingers on his cock and moaned again. Oh, god, this was too much. Clay and Clark were talking about something he couldn't really follow and didn't care that he couldn't. He was going crazy, so hard he could feel every pulse of blood. "Time to put this on," he heard Clark murmur, then the fingers were down at the base of his cock, and something cool and supple was there and being drawn tightly. He moaned yet again. "There, baby. Now you don't have to worry about coming too soon." There was a lick to the head of his cock, then it was gone, and the air that blew across was enough to make him squirm. "You wouldn't want the fun to be over, would you?"
No, he never wanted this to be over, and he wanted to come so much. He was glad he couldn't talk, glad he was so excited. Let them handle everything.
"You didn't answer my question, Clay." He heard a sudden sharp intake of breath and tried to get his eyes open. When he did, he saw that Clark still had one hand on him, but the other was up pinching Clay's nipple through his shirt. Clay's face was tight. "You like that, Clay? Hope so. I've wanted to get you helpless like this. I'm going to enjoy both of you. You'll see. I'll get you begging me, too. That could be fun." He laughed, and Josh saw his fingers twist Clay's flesh again. Clay just tensed more. "Come on, Clay, Josh makes noises for me. Don't feel you have to be a stoic. Didn't they teach you to go with the flow? Give in when you don't have any choice? That's what I learned, and it's a good thing to know."
Palmer's fingers were down stroking Josh's balls, the light touch making him shiver. His balls were drawn up, the skin almost painfully sensitive. He knew if it weren't for the band around his cock, he'd have come by now.
"Come on, Clay. Answer the question. Does Josh beg like that with you?"
"Yes." The answer was short, and Josh shut his eyes again. He didn't want to see Clay's face like that, didn't want him to have to know he'd been seen so desperate. He knew that Clay wouldn't want that. "No, I've never tied him up, and yes, the Company teaches us to," there was a quick breath, and Josh wondered what Palmer had done to Clay, "go with the inevitable. I'm not sure that's what you are yet."
"I am inevitable," Clark's purr came. "But that's all right. You fight all you want. Isn't Josh cute like this? Don't you want to fuck him? And remember, Clay, there are no wrong answers any more. Just tell me the truth, and you'll be fine. I want you to tell me the truth. You can try and lie, but I'll know. You know I will. Remember that time in Istanbul? I got the truth out of you then, and it wasn't half as much fun as this is being, but then I was short on time."
Istanbul? Josh thought for a moment he'd misheard. It sounded like something out of a James Bond movie. But Clay was answering, and his voice was ragged. What the hell was Clark doing to him? No, he didn't want to know. He did want to know. He was not going to look. He wasn't.
"Istanbul was business. This is not business."
"True. Answer my questions, Clay, or I'm going to have to conclude that you like being treated rough. Do you, Clay? Is that the whole problem?"
"No to the last two questions. Yes to the others."
Clay wanted to fuck him, liked him like this. Jesus. Clay wanted him bound? He'd never said anything about that. But maybe Clay was lying to Clark. He didn't want to think now. He wanted more, and he arched into Clark's touch to show him that.
"Your body likes it." This time Clay's gasp was louder, and Josh was glad his eyes were still closed. He was still hard, Clark's fingers stroking his cock now, and god, he wished Clark would let Clay be. Wished Clark would focus on him, giving him more than this idle teasing. "You are interesting, Clayton Webb. I'll have to stop in more often to see you. And Josh, too, don't want you to think I'm ignoring you, baby." Clark's voice was suddenly intimate and for him, and it made Josh feel better. Shit, he was losing it. He was held captive, and he was softening because his captor was paying attention to *him*. "Never that; you're the one I wanted first, still want." The fingers tightened around him, and oh, god, he needed to come so much. "I want to fuck you, Josh. Tell me you want that, too. You know I'll make it good for you."
He knew that. Clark had made it good for him both times that night, so damned good that he had dreams about it.
"Please fuck me, Clark. Please." His mouth was not attached to his brain any more, that was clear. He should not have said that. Not in front of Clay, not ever.
Clark's mouth found his, and god, he was lost. That skilled tongue, sliding in and making him moan, making him even harder, making him want to get fucked even more.
"First you do something for me, baby." The intimate whisper in his ear, and the hand tugging him forward, along with the arm around him. "On your knees. You show me how good that mouth of yours is, and you show Clay, too. Poor guy, he wants you, and he can only get what I let him have." The laugh in his ear had so much glee that it made him shiver, even though it was such a quiet laugh. "But I'll make sure you're both happy at the end."
Josh found that he was on his knees, his hands still cuffed behind him. He opened his eyes and saw that both Clay and Clark had their cocks out. Clay's eyes were on him, and there was a hunger and an anger that he'd never seen before. A hunger for whom? Him, or Clark? Didn't matter. He didn't know what the hell was on his own face, but it probably looked just as strange and wild. He looked at Clark, whose face was full of that glee he'd heard.
"Good boy, Josh. Clay first."
Josh nodded and bent over to take in the head of Clay's cock.
"No. Not like this."
"You don't get a say in it, Clay, and in a minute or two you won't feel that way, anyway," Clark said pleasantly. "Josh, do what you're told."
Josh looked up at Clay. "I'm sorry," he whispered, then opened his mouth and got Clay's cock in. He didn't suck cock that often, preferring to get fucked, but he'd done it a few times for Clay. He closed his eyes and let himself focus on what he knew Clay liked, how Clay tasted. He listened, but Clay made no sounds other than some harsh breathing.
Then there was a hand tangled in his hair, pulling him back. "My turn, baby," and that was Clark.
He went with the hand, and his mouth was full then of Clark's cock, and he sucked that for a while, working even harder. They were captives. It was important that he go along. That much of his mind was there now, but it wasn't difficult to keep going, even without that. He *wanted* Clark to be satisfied, wanted Clark to fuck him, wanted all of this in a way that was really going to make him nervous when he could think again, but that time was not now, and he was glad of that.
His mouth was empty, and there was a hand on his cheek. "Open your eyes, Josh." He did and saw Clark's face. "Tell me you still want me to fuck you."
"Please." He did want it. His cock was throbbing, and when he glanced down, finally, he saw that what was wrapped around his cock was a black leather band, and it was digging into his shaft. It felt so good, and it was torture at the same time. He had to come. "Please fuck me, Clark."
"You got it, Josh. You get to watch, Clay."
"You want me to thank you for that?"
"No, don't expect it at all." Clark was laughing. "You're welcome, though." He leaned over and took hold of Josh's arm, pulling him up when he stood. "Listen to me, Josh," he whispered, holding Josh against his body. "I'm going to uncuff you, just for a moment, and you're not going to fight me, because Clay will get hurt if you do. Do you understand?" Josh nodded. "Good boy." His other hand slipped down to stroke Josh's cock. "Good boys get the best rewards, and you know I give very good rewards."
Josh knew that very well. He closed his eyes and let Clark do what he wanted, which consisted of undoing his pants and having him step out of them, undoing the left cuff, then shoving him down on his hands and knees and fastening the free cuff somewhere else. He felt a pat on his back, and only then did he open his eyes. Clark had him tethered to the leg of the couch. There was no way to get free of that.
"He looks good like that, doesn't he, Clay?"
Clark was stripping, Josh could see just enough to know that, and what he couldn't see, he heard. God, Clark was going to fuck him in front of Clay. This was insane, but his cock was still hard, and he knew he was awake. Clay didn't say anything, and Clark's voice was mocking when he spoke again.
"Come on, Clay; don't be like that. You were doing so well before, playing the brave agent, even trying to fuck with my head. Get tired of it, or are you sulking because Josh is getting all the attention?"
"Trying to figure out how I'm going to take you down," Clay's answer came after a moment. "You did still want the truth, right?"
"Always, from you. Your truths are more interesting than most people's lies." Clark laughed. "Wish I could trust you, Clay. What the two of us could do with Josh would be something else. Want to give me your word?"
Josh froze. No, he thought, please, Clay, don't. Don't. He didn't even know why he knew that was wrong, but it was.
"So I can have to live with myself when I go ahead and break it, Clark? Or so you can laugh at me when I promise, and you tell me you know it's worthless? Forget it. You'll do what you want. You always do. You want me to help you with Josh? Do it or don't."
"You're just too smart for me," Clark's mocking reply came as Josh shivered from his position on the floor. "You stay there and watch. I'll show you how it's done. But maybe next time, Clay. I think you could be someone I could trust. We'll see. The Company's too fucking small a pond for you." Josh shook and thrust his hips into the air as cool fingers stroked his ass, then spread his cheeks. "I can make your world a hell of a lot more interesting."
"I thought you were fucking Josh. Josh, didn't you think so?"
Josh didn't know if he could answer Clay, but he finally did. "Yeah."
"So why don't you?" Josh heard the smooth taunt in Clay's voice. Good. Clay was all right. That helped.
"Didn't know you liked watching *that* much, Clay. But sure, if that's what you both want, and I know Josh wants it. Don't you, baby?"
Josh licked his lips at the assurance in Clark's voice and whimpered, all the sound he seemed to be able to make. His cock was throbbing, and he needed to come so much, but that band was there, stopping him, and anyway, Clark would control that. Clark was controlling everything. God. This was too much. He didn't know if he could take it.
The fingers on him were coated with what had to be lube now, and one was probing into him. He spread his legs even more, begging for it with his actions. He couldn't speak; all he could do was make sounds, desperate, helpless sounds.
"Yeah, baby, I like you like this," he heard Clark's low voice. "You need it bad, don't you? Been too long? Next time don't wait so long. You don't have to wait, you can get it when you need it, fuck what everybody says. You can always come to me."
There were kisses pressed to his back while another finger was worked into him, and god, it was so right. He needed this so much, didn't care that Clay was there bound and watching, maybe even liked that. He needed this. He'd give anything to get this.
Anything? Yes, anything. Wait. Problem. Not good.
Clark wanted him dependent on him for fucking. Wanted him bound to him, wanted him coming to him. This was a first step, not everything. The clarity of that realization surprised the hell out of him. Clark would get him hooked, then start asking for favors, and yeah, if he was that hooked, he might even give in. No, would give in.
He would not get hooked. He'd find a way. He would never call Palmer again. Somehow he knew that he was being honest with himself, that he would find a way to kick the habit that Palmer could easily be for him.
He made himself relax. He had to deal with this now, make sure neither he nor Clay got hurt, and then he'd deal with the rest. The next thrust of Palmer's fingers made him moan and push it all away. Not now. Later. God, it was too good now.
"Good boy," Palmer whispered and added a third finger and hitting his prostate this time. "Good, good boy. Tell me you want it. Say you want me to fuck you again, Josh, or I'll just use my fingers, and we both know that won't be enough for you, will it?"
No, he needed a cock in him. "Fuck me, please, Clark, fuck me."
"Take the band off him, too." Clay's voice wasn't as calm as it usually was, but it was a hell of a lot calmer than his. Well, yeah, he was just sitting on the couch with his hands bound. "I want to see him come."
"A direct request from you? Sure, Clay. Whatever you want. Maybe I should put it on you?"
"I'm not into that, but I know you, Clark. You'll do what you want."
Clark laughed, his fingers still stretching and probing Josh. "You can't come from just watching, and I'd hate to piss you off even more, so no, you won't have to wear this. You want to come, baby?" This was softer and to him. "Tell me."
"Yeah, I want to come." The words were so hard to say. Not because he didn't want to, but because it was just so damned hard to talk at all.
"Sure thing, baby."
He felt the band being undone, and then his cock was free, but then, too, he was empty. He didn't want to be empty. He moaned, but then Clark's cock was pushing into him, and yes, he was going to be filled, going to be fucked. He pushed back to get more, but then Clark grabbed his hips and held him in place.
"No, Josh, you wait for what I give you." Clark's voice was a growl now. "I'm showing Clay how good we are together. You want to give Clay a good show, don't you?"
"You're both doing fine." Clay's voice was cool, and Josh wondered for a moment if Clay and he would be able to look at each other again. No, Clay had told him to go along with Clark, told him it was all right. Then Clark was pushing into him more, and it was so good. "It's all right, Josh." Now Clay's voice was gentle. "Enjoy it. It's all right."
"Encouragement? Thanks, Clay, but I can handle this myself." Clark shoved farther into Josh, and Josh cried out, because that had hit his prostate, white-hot pleasure shooting through him, his cock so hard a touch would make him come, but he knew he wouldn't get that touch, not yet. "You'll get your turn."
"I'm sure I will."
There was a darkness in Clay's voice, and Josh understood that Clay was enjoying watching Palmer fuck him, that this was something Clay was going to have to deal with, and he was glad to know he wasn't the only one who was enjoying it, although, god, he wanted more, he wanted to come.
"Fuck him, Clark. Show me how good you are. That is the point, isn't it? You want me to know you're that good? Want *my* approval? You can have it if you're good enough."
Clark didn't answer; instead, he pulled out and thrust back into Josh, and with that Josh didn't care what the point was, as long as he got to come soon; he had to come; he had to.
Clark kept fucking him as Josh moaned and made low cries and took it. Finally Clark reached around and grabbed his cock and jerked hard, once, twice, three times while Clark's cock was buried all the way in him, small thrusts jabbing his prostate, and the two stimulations were more than enough to get him to come over Clark's hand.
Clark pulled out as Josh tried to stay in place. He was so shaky, but he had to stay there. There was a reason, even if he couldn't find it now. He tried to pull his right hand closer, and that reminded him. The cuff. He was chained there. He didn't want to be chained, but Clark had to let him go soon.
Clark was wiping him off, low voice in his ear. "That's my good boy; now I've got to take care of Webb, but you'll get more soon. I promise. You want him to fuck you?" Josh let out a small moan, and Clark laughed softly. "Maybe so. I'll think about it. Now remember, you're my good boy, and you're going to behave for me."
Josh nodded and kept his eyes closed as Clark undid the cuff from the leg of the couch, stood him up, then redid his wrists behind him.
"Back on the couch, baby. I want Clay to have you right there with him. You want him there, right, Clay?" He pushed Josh back down on the couch.
Clay didn't answer Clark. "Josh, you all right?"
Josh opened his eyes to find Clay looking at him. "Yeah, sure." Was he all right? Sort of. Fucked into next week, and getting hard again from the closeness to Clay, but all right, sure.
"Good. He can't keep us here forever."
Clark laughed but didn't answer that as he settled on the floor. On his knees, Josh saw. He blinked. Yes, on his knees. He was going to suck off Clay?
Then Clark was leaning forward and taking Clay into his mouth. Oh, god. Josh hardened even more. This was insane, but it was so hot. Clay turned his head and looked right at Josh, and Josh could see the exact moment when it got too much for Clay. His head fell back, and his eyes closed. Still, he said nothing.
There was a muffled laugh from below, then words. "Like that, don't you? Just think how good it could be for you if I was *trying* to make it good. I'm just doing it now, Clay, this is nothing to what I *can* do."
Josh saw Clark take Clay's cock back in and suck, and then he heard Clay gasp. He shifted, trying to get closer, and finally he got his shoulder against Clay's. Clay's eyes flickered open, and, glazed as they were, there was a spark of recognition, then Clay's mouth moved, and Josh could tell that he was trying to thank him. He pressed his shoulder against Clay's harder, trying to give him strength. He knew Clay didn't want to make noises for Clark, just wanted to get through it and be made to come, nothing more. Clay shouldn't have to get all twisted up over this. He needed Clay not to do that.
Then Clay gasped again and turned his head, burying it in Josh's neck, and it felt so good to have Clay turn to him, need him, that for a moment Josh felt light and free. He was helping Clay get through this. It would be all right.
"So cute." Clark was laughing. "All right, Clay, bury your head in the sand. Or Josh's neck, fine with me. I'm the one with his fingers around your cock, jerking you off, since you obviously don't appreciate my mouth. Too bad."
Clay twisted away from Josh. "Just finish, if you're going to, or let us go and get the hell out of here." There were pauses between the words, and Clay sounded breathless and hot, but the determination in his voice came through to Josh, and, Josh was sure, to Clark.
"Temper, Clay." Clark was still laughing. "All right, then I won't get you off." Clark let go of Clay's cock and stood. "Josh will. Come on, Josh, you want to get fucked again, right? And I'd love to see you two do it."
"No." Who said that? Clark was staring at him, and so was Clay. He'd said it. He meant it, too. He wasn't going to give Clark that. All right, he'd wanted Clark to fuck him, liked going down on both Clay and Clark, liked being bound, seeing Clay hot, but this was too much. "No."
"I get your drift." Clark looked amused. "You don't want to. But Josh, it's not like you have a choice." The voice was soft and caressing again, and it would be so easy to fall into it and agree, but that was wrong. He *did* have a choice, even if that choice was one that wouldn't be honored.
"No," he said one more time and looked at Clay, whose face was still tense, but whose eyes had a smile for him. He was doing the right thing, maybe for the first time tonight.
Clark let out a short laugh. "Well, you're no fun. Fine, then Clay can just not come. I don't care." He stood. "If you won't play, guess I'll leave. Hmm. Can't leave you both here like this, but... let me think."
He was quiet a minute, and Josh felt Clay press against him. He swallowed. His mind was coming back to him. He'd been fucked, begged for it, gone along with Clay's enemy and probably his own, but maybe they were going to get free, and Clay's eyes were so happy when they found his. Maybe it would be all right.
"All right." Clark grabbed Josh and pulled him up. "Here's the deal." The gun was out again, Josh saw and tensed. "Josh here gets uncuffed. He stays put, I go for the door, and I drop the key there. Then you let him go, and you two," Clark laughed, "can comfort each other."
"Fine with me," Clay said steadily. "Josh, what about you?"
"Fine." He tried to keep his voice as calm, but he couldn't. It didn't matter. Clark was going to go, and this was going to be over.
Clark pulled him against his body. "Next time, pretty boy, don't fuck with me," he heard murmured in his ear. "And remember me when Clay's fucking you. I will be back."
He would be, Josh knew it. But maybe when he did return, Josh would be able to say no again and say it earlier.
Clark undid the cuffs, took them off, shoved them in his pocket, then trained the gun on Josh. "Sit back down. Yeah, right there with Clay. Nice picture the two of you make."
Then he was over at the door, hand opening to drop the key, and then he was out.
Josh got up as soon as the door shut and brought the key back. Clay was already twisting around to give him access.
Once the cuffs were off, Clay grimaced and rubbed first one wrist, then the other, then sighed and reached down to put his still partly erect cock away. Josh looked away. He should go. He'd fucked up everything.
"Josh." Clay's hand was on his face, turning it toward him. "Are you all right?"
Was he all right? He blinked. "Sure. Fine."
"Dammit, Josh," Clay started, then he just made an angry sound. "Josh, I have to make some calls. I need to get someone on Palmer's trail now. Don't leave, please. We need to talk."
Sure. Talk. But Clay wasn't moving, was staring at him, and he realized that Clay wasn't going to make his calls until he'd gotten the answer he wanted. "I'll be here."
With that, Clay stood. "It won't take long."
When Josh was alone, he just sat for a few minutes, then a draft reminded him that he had nothing on the lower half of his body, and he reached for his pants. That showed him how stiff he was, and he decided that he needed a shower. It could only help. He pulled on the pants anyway and walked slowly toward the bathroom. He glanced into the kitchen, where Clay had his phone up to his ear and was talking in a low voice.
Clay wanted him here still. Clay had believed in him. They'd helped each other. He was at the bathroom now and stripping out of his clothes, the hot water already running. Clay didn't hate him. Palmer was gone. He had to find a way to fight that pull toward him. He could find a way. He got in the shower and adjusted the water. He would find a way.
When he got out, Clay was there, handing him a towel. Josh took it and started to dry off, waiting to hear what Clay would say.
"Don't blame yourself, Josh. He does things."
"I called him. I was going to meet him. I came here instead."
"You're not that hard to read, Josh." There was a faint smile on Clay's face. "I even knew there was a good chance Palmer would show up. He's more predictable than he likes to admit."
"You knew?" He had to stop that, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He made himself keep drying.
Clay nodded. "I'm sorry. I should have pushed you to talk more, should have warned you. Hell, I should have just gotten us out of here." He ran his hand through his hair, then shoved both hands in his pockets. "I thought I'd hear him, thought it wouldn't be a problem." There was a moment of silence, and Josh stood there, the damp towel around him, watching. "I fucked up. I wanted to be the one to bring him in." That last was said in a voice almost too low to hear, but Josh got right over to Clay. He couldn't think that.
"I fucked up. I led him here. Don't blame yourself."
Clay sighed. "Thank you. I'll try. We're probably safe here, since I doubt he'll come back tonight, but if you want to leave, I'm going to ask you to go to a hotel."
"I'm not leaving you," Josh said quietly. If they were going to have anything, and he hoped they would, they had to get through this together. "How about you take a shower now? Then we can go to bed." Then he thought of something. "No, wait a minute." He pushed Clay gently back against the tiled wall. "I want to do this, O.K.? So just let me."
He pulled the towel tighter, undid Clay's zipper, then dropped to his knees on the mat and had Clay's soft cock in his mouth before the other man could do more than breathe. He sucked, wanting Clay hard again. Wanting to do this because *he* had decided to, not Palmer. Wanting Clay to remember him on his knees out of his own volition.
"Josh, god..." Clay was hard now, and Josh sucked harder. This was for Clay; this was for him. This was about the fact that they were something, could be something, were good together. This was right.
Clay gasped, then stilled, and there was come in Josh's mouth. He swallowed as much as he could, then pulled his head away, stood, and spat the rest into the basin. He saw some mouthwash and reached for it.
Clay was watching him from against the wall still when he turned back around after rinsing out his mouth, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Clay broke the look. "Thank you."
After another moment, Clay sighed. "I think we should get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."
Clay abruptly turned and left, and Josh sighed. This wasn't going to be easy for either of them. In their own ways both of them had screwed up, but there was a chance, and that was going to have to be enough. Tonight they'd sleep in the same bed if he got his way, and maybe Clay would hold him, or he'd hold Clay, and they'd talk tomorrow. If one of Palmer's goals had been to break them up, that was too bad. Josh wasn't going to let that happen.
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