Title: Uniforms
Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
A crossover between JAG and The West Wing
Sequel to "A hell of a long way from Harvard", sort of, or an extension of it, or a missing scene...something like that.
Clayton Webb/Danny Concannon
Rated NC-17
Summary: Danny finds out one of Clayton's turn-ons when they're in college together and tries to help Clayton deal with it.
Disclaimer: Clayton Webb still belongs to CBS and Belisarius Productions, and Danny Concannon still belongs to Aaron Sorkin and NBC and John Wells Productions.

From my story "A hell of a long way from Harvard":

"Just tell me you're staying away from the uniforms..." Danny's face dropped as Clayton looked down. "Oh, shit, Clay, no."

And there's the impetus for this story. Just why does Danny say that? Well, they finally told me, so I'm telling anyone else who'd care to read. I know that Alex wants to know. :-)

It has been pointed out to me that in the episode "The Portland Trip" Danny said that he went to Notre Dame. Well, I wrote my story "A hell of a long way from Harvard" before that episode was aired, so I didn't know, and in my universe, Clay and Danny went to Harvard. Please think of it an AU, if you'd be so kind.

Bartley's and the Harvard Book Store are real and right next to each other.

Alex beta'd this with her usual grace, style, and wonderful joy. She and Tinnean and Page are wonderful friends and writers, so thanks go to all of them.

Uniforms by Gail

"Hey, Clay." Danny looked up from the pad of paper he was writing furiously on. Great idea, and he was getting it down. "How'd class go?"

"Class was fine." Clayton Webb dropped his briefcase down by his desk, then sat down on his bed and put his hands over his eyes. Danny stared at him. "Just fine."

Danny put the cap back on the pen and put it and the pad on his desk, then stood and went over to sit next to Clayton after glancing at the door to be sure it was shut. The idea was going to have to wait. Clay needed him. "Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, Concannon," the muffled voice came in reply. "I'm thinking. You familiar with the concept?"

Danny couldn't help grinning, although the grin faded rapidly. "Sure. You explained it to me last week." He put his hand on Clayton's knee. "Come on, Clay. You know you can't lie to me. Tell me what's the matter."

Clayton took his hands away from his eyes then. "So you're going to use sex to get information? I always knew reporters were slime. And I can lie to you just fine."

"All right, all right, I'll stop touching you." Danny had already lifted his hand. "But come on, Clay; you walk in here, drop your briefcase, and sit on the bed? You never do any of that. Even without the hands-over-the-eyes thing, I'm going to be worried."

Clayton was silent a long moment while Danny waited; then he sighed. "I needed a book for my English class, so I decided to go over to the Harvard Book Store and see if I could find it used."

"Right," Danny said with what he hoped was the right amount of encouragement and not too much. It was hard to get Clay to talk, but he wanted to find out what had gotten his friend so upset.

"And then I was hungry, so I decided to get a burger."

Danny couldn't help grinning at that. Clayton Webb was a sucker for a good burger, and Bartley's was right next to the Harvard Book Store. He should have known. "And fries, and a frappe?" he teased.

"No fries, and a coke," Clayton retorted, then sighed. "And...oh, never mind. You'll laugh at me."

He wasn't even looking at Danny any more.

"I won't laugh." Danny's voice was gentle. "Who was he?"

"What?" Clayton was looking at Danny now.

"You saw someone you wanted to get to know better, but didn't think you ought to try." Danny hoped his compassion for his friend was coming through in his voice. "And you get nervous around women, but you still talk to them if you're interested."

"I don't talk to anyone, Concannon. Remember?" The bitterness Danny remembered from back when they first shared the room was back in Clayton's voice, and Danny took a breath.

"Sure you do. You don't talk to as many people as me, but who does? I talk to people on the subway: old ladies who want to pinch my cheeks and bums who want my money and street musicians. I'm strange."

"You're outgoing. I'm a damned recluse. A neurotic. Classic manifestation of an overprotective mother and a distant father. Just like that professor said."

"Clay. Stop putting yourself down. You know better. That professor thought Freud was right about everything. You can't believe him." Danny put his arm around his friend this time, and Clay just sighed and let him. "Just tell me. I won't get mad at you. Maybe between the two of us we can figure this out, find a way for you to get to know this person." He made sure to use the more neutral word this time.

"I don't even know who he is," Clay said after a moment and turned his head to look at Danny. "I couldn't even describe his face for you."

Danny frowned. "I don't get it."

"You know I grew up in Virginia."

"I know."

"And my father worked for," this took Clayton a minute to say, "the Central Intelligence Agency."

"I haven't told anyone anything," was Danny's immediate response. Clay was about as secretive about his family, especially his dead father, as he was about his and Danny's sexual experimentation. If Clay thought he'd told anyone about his father, he would be furious, and Danny knew that he'd be even more hurt, and Clay hurt was something Danny didn't want. Clay had been hurt enough already. "I never will."

Clayton let out a long breath. "Thank you. But this isn't about him."

Danny waited, but Clay just shook his head and tightened his mouth. "Clay. Just tell me. What was it about this guy that made you want to get to know him better?"

Clay's laugh was short. "Let me finish. Our house in Virginia wasn't that far from D.C. And D.C. is full of people. All kinds of people. Military people," he finished with a tone in his voice that told Danny he did not want to say this, wished more than anything he could shut up, but was now at the point of needing to talk. "Fit, confident, tanned, military," there was a pause, "men. Who smiled and looked so damned sexy..."

"You wanted them." Clay nodded. "You saw a guy in uniform today." It was the logical jump, and Clay nodded again. "And you wanted to talk to him?"

"Talk, my ass. I wanted him. I didn't even care that I didn't know him, Danny. I didn't want to know him. I wanted his hands on me, his mouth, his cock..."

Danny tightened his grip, heartened when Clay let him. "All right. So you're attracted to uniforms. It's something to know about yourself, nothing to worry about."

"I'm going into the Company, Danny! I'll have to work with them sometimes. How well am I going to keep the proper distance if all I can think about is how I want some guy with the right kind of smile and a crisp uniform on his knees in front of me? Or how much I want to get his uniform off and fuck him? It's insanity. I'll end up screwing something up, and people might die. I can't take that chance. I'll have to go into another line of work, but I've wanted to do this forever. It's what my family does, Danny. I can't be the one to break that tradition. I can't." He stopped, breathing hard.

Danny was silent. It was that bad for Clay? Something had to be done, but he didn't have the faintest idea what. His eyes roamed the room in search of something, anything...and then he saw one of the posters he'd put up and knew what to do. He squeezed Clay's shoulders again, then eased his arm away.

"Lie down, Clay. It'll be all right. I've got an idea." He stood. "I'll be back in an hour or so. Try and rest, all right? Don't study. You're not getting enough sleep."

"Lie down? What are you going to do, go find the guy?"

"I'm not that stupid, Clay. Trust me. I wouldn't hurt you."

Clayton sighed, then bent over and started untying his shoes. "All right." His voice was muffled again, and Danny knew that Clay probably wouldn't lie down for long, but that was all right. "I'll try."

"Great." He grabbed his jacket and glanced down at his sneakers. Good. They were tied. "Back as soon as I can."

"I'll be here," Clayton returned wryly, but his face had the glimmer of a smile, and Danny grinned back before opening the door.

He loped down the hall. Damned good thing he did talk to so many people. That was going to help him get just what Clay needed, he hoped. No, he knew. He knew Clayton Webb. He had to believe that.


He got back in less than an hour and dug into his pocket for his key, then rolled his eyes. Of course he'd forgotten it in his hurry. He knocked. "Webb? Come on, Webb, I know you're there!"

He shifted the bag he was carrying behind his back. Couldn't have Clay seeing that.

The door opened after a few seconds. "Concannon, you don't have to shout," Clay snapped, and Danny grinned. Clay was doing better. Probably had napped, but it would be stupid to ask.

"What have you got?"

Figures. "Listen, Bond," he brushed by his friend, "it's a surprise." He glanced over at Clay's desk, surprised to see no textbooks or papers out, just a paperback which actually looked like it was from this century. Maybe Clay had spent the time relaxing. Great. "Now sit down and let me blindfold you."

Clayton backed away. "Oh, no, Concannon. I don't know what you've got in mind, but I'm not into anything weird."

Danny laughed. "It's so I can get ready without you seeing me." He put the bag down on his bed, holding Clayton's eyes with his own. "Come on, Clay, it'll be fun. Hey, Bond would do it in a heartbeat."

"Bond again. Trust me, I'm not going to be like him."

"I know. He's English. And you hate martinis."

Clay smiled at that. "A blindfold? What if I kept my eyes closed?"

Danny snorted. "Right. You'll have them open as soon as you think it's safe. I know you, Clay. Now sit down and take it like a man." He got in front of Clay and pushed him down on his bed. "Good." He took the bandanna he usually carried and folded it into a long band, then snaked it around Clayton's head, relieved when his friend didn't lift his hands to get it off. "I won't take long."

"Hope not. This smells sweaty. When was the last time you washed it?"

Danny choked back a laugh. "Sorry, Clay. Want me to get something clean?"

"Just hurry up." Clayton shifted in place, and Danny knew that he had some idea what was going to happen. Fine. Just as long as he didn't know everything.

Danny unzipped the suit bag and took a quick look at the contents, then glanced at the windows. He crossed and quickly closed the blinds. That would have been a disaster. Clay would have blown up at him for taking that kind of chance. Then he stripped off his clothes and put on the Army uniform he'd borrowed from a girl he knew in the Drama Club. He'd told her his girlfriend wanted him to dress up as an officer and interrogate her, and the girl had thought he was just so sweet.

He grinned. Interrogating Clay could be fun, but that would have to be another time. Clay had made it very clear what he wanted. He got the clothes on and jammed his feet into the shiny hard shoes, then swallowed. How would this officer think? Not that he was doing his friend a favor, but that he wanted something from this CIA agent. Was that the way to play it? Or should he be desperate for Clay? Oh, hell. He'd just do it. Clay would give him the clues he needed. All he had to do was be there.

He crossed to Clay and reached up to undo the bandanna and drop it on the floor. "Mr. Webb," he said crisply and waited, standing at what he hoped was attention. He was glad that his hair hadn't grown out that much since the last time Clay had insisted he get his hair cut, before Clay's mother had come up. Wonderful woman. He was pretty sure she knew that he and Clay were more than just friends, but she'd only told him that she was glad her son knew someone as kind as he was, and he'd thanked her.

Clay was staring at him, eyes wider than Danny had seen them in a while. He kept still, waiting. If Clay didn't do something soon, he'd make a move, but he wanted his friend to get the chance to make this what he wanted.

Then Clay moistened his lips and stood, going over to sit at his desk. "Captain Concannon," he said just as crisply, and Danny knew he'd been addressed. He shifted to face Clay.

"Yes, sir."

"You had a reason for wanting to see me?"

So it was his turn. "Yes, sir. My C.O. said I was assigned to assist you." He hoped that was vague enough to let Clay do what he wanted.

"Did he." It wasn't a question. "Did he tell you anything more?"

"No, sir."

"So you're here to assist me." Clay stood and came closer. "And I can do what I want with you, Captain. That is correct?"

There was a note of glee in Clay's voice that made Danny shiver. He knew that Clay had fun in bed with him, but god, he was really into this. Clay really did like uniforms. He was going to have to find a way to get one he could keep. This could be good. "Whatever you want, sir." His heart was pounding. What would Clay do with him?

Clay sat down on the corner of the desk. "I've always wanted to do whatever I wanted with an officer, Captain," he said in a thoughtful voice that still had that glee behind it. "Come here."

Danny took two steps and was in front of Clay. "Yes, sir." He couldn't help himself. "It's still me, Clay," he said in a whisper.

"I know, Danny." Clay's hand rose to touch his hand, and he was smiling. "But you can do this. You started this. And I'm going to do whatever I want with you. You'll like it. I promise you that."

Danny could only nod. Clay was a hell of a lot more commanding this way. Yeah, he'd do just fine in D.C. Clay's hand dropped, and Danny knew that they were back in the game. He stood straighter.

Then Clay's hand was on his crotch, and he gasped. "Don't move, Captain." Clay's voice was low, but definite. "That's an order." Clay's fingers squeezed his bulge, then moved down to cup his balls through the light fabric. "You're hard, Captain. Does that mean you like this?"

"Yes, sir." He tried to stay still, but he couldn't, and what he got in return for his shift was a squeeze that didn't hurt, but did have the potential for pain.

"Not very good at following orders, are you, Captain? Well, let's see if you're any better with this one." The hand withdrew, and Clay stood, bringing him up against Danny's body. "Take a step back, Captain."

Danny obeyed, feeling his tongue lick his lips. A very real game. "Yes, sir." He tried to make his voice crisp and sure, but he knew it wasn't.

Clay laughed. "It's all right, Captain. I'm glad you like what I'm doing." Danny watched as Clay walked over to the bed and sat. "Come here and kneel in front of me."

//Some guy with the right kind of smile and a crisp uniform on his knees in front of me.// Clay's earlier words were back in his mind as he pulled over one of the throw rugs Clay's mother had brought up for them. Too strange to think about that now. He pulled his mind back to Clay, who was unzipping his pants and taking out his cock. Danny wet his lips. This he could do. He leaned forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his cheek.

"In a hurry, Captain? Wait for your next order." Clay's eyes were gleaming; Danny didn't even have to look to know that. The hand dropped. "All right. Suck my cock."

"You give strange orders," Danny couldn't help saying.

"Doesn't matter, Captain. You still have to carry them out. And this isn't all I'll want from you," he ended in a low, fierce voice that made Danny shiver and take Clay's cock all the way in.

Clay cried out at that, and Danny sucked. He'd never done that before Clay, but now he loved it, and he knew he was good at it. Clay's cock grew in his mouth, and he slid his mouth up and down the shaft, licking the head, then taking it all in again. He wasn't surprised to hear Clay say in a strained voice, "Stop, Captain. Now."

He pulled his mouth off and stayed where he was. //Get his uniform off and fuck him.// That had to be next. He could do that. They'd tried once, but then they'd both been too nervous, and they'd ended up jerking each other off and agreeing to try another time. This was clearly going to be that time.

"Stand, Captain." He did and found Clay standing, too. "I'm going to fuck you," Clay whispered, his voice dark. "You have to do what I say."

He knew Clay had fucked and been fucked by his prep school roommate a couple of times, and right now he was glad of that. At least Clay would know what he was doing. "I'm under your orders, Mr. Webb."

For a long moment Clay stared at him. "Yes, you are," he finally murmured and smiled again. "Take off your pants. Shoes and socks, too."

Danny pulled off his shoes, hearing Clay's quickly suppressed laugh when he showed he had no socks on, then reached for the button of his pants and undid that, then the zipper, and stepped out of them, pulling the pair of Clay's boxers that he'd borrowed that morning off as well. This time Clay's laugh wasn't suppressed.

"Jesus, Concannon, is nothing sacred?"

Danny grinned. "I'll do laundry tomorrow. I'll do yours if you want."

"No, I'll do both of ours. You mix everything up. Just don't worry now." Clay's fingers touched his cock. "You're so hard. You like being this officer?"

"Yeah, I like it." He did. It was strange, but it made Clay happy, and he knew he wouldn't have to do anything he didn't want to. It was just a game, an intense one, but still just that. "Come on, Clay. You wanted to fuck the captain, right?"

"I'm going to fuck the captain." Clay's voice was dark again. "Get on the bed. Hands and knees. And don't worry, really," he added softly. "It's going to be good."

It was easy to believe Clay when he was like this. Maybe he should be around uniforms all the time, although the chances of him finding a guy who he could do this with were probably slim. But then maybe this would help Clay get over it. Maybe it could be something he and Clay did.

He climbed on the bed, positioning himself as ordered. There was a pause, then the bed moved, and Danny knew that Clay was there behind him. There were cool hands on his legs, parting them, then the sound of a top being unscrewed, then something cool and thick being spread over his hole, and he let out a small sound.

"Really good," Clay's voice came again, and then a finger was worked into him, and he tried to relax. Another finger was added, and that felt good somehow. He kept breathing and seeing Clay's face as he was giving orders and having them obeyed. He found himself pushing back to get more in. "Easy, Danny," Clay breathed. "Don't rush. We've got time."

"Okay." He made himself wait as a third finger penetrated him and was glad he had. This was almost too much, but Clay worked him, and soon it felt as good as it had before. The fingers kept thrusting in and out of him, and he angled his head and upper body down so that he could brace himself on his now-folded arms. He felt as though he'd need it.

The fingers pulled out, and Danny kept breathing. He knew what was going to happen next. There was more of the thick substance spread over him, then something blunt and hard pressing against his anus, and he breathed and pushed back against it. He'd done research, and this was what the books had said to do. He gasped as the head popped through the tight ring, then pushed further in. Soon it would feel better. He was sure of that.

Clay's fingers wrapped around his cock and brought it back up to full hardness as the cock inside him pushed in farther. He felt a rush of pleasure and knew Clay had hit his prostate. Good. It would be getting much better soon, and it was good now. He moaned as Clay pulled back, then thrust again, this time harder. Oh, yes.

"Again," he gasped, and Clay pulled out and thrust in again, and kept doing that, still pumping his cock. He hoped Clay was close, because he wasn't going to last with this kind of heat inside him. Clay's cock stretched and burned and made him feel so incredibly hot that he wanted it both to go on forever and get him off now.

Clay made a harsh sound. "You'd better be close, because I can't," he panted, "hold back that long."

"I'm close. Fuck me, Clay. Fuck me and make me come." He knew he should have said something like 'Mr. Webb', but he couldn't. Clay was fucking him, god, and he hoped this wouldn't be the only time.

Clay thrust in harder than he had, then again and again, and then Danny was coming, his ass tensing around Clay's cock, and he could hear Clay's sound as he came. After a long moment, Clay pulled out.

"Thanks." He felt Clay pull at his arm. "You don't want to stay there. Get out of the uniform and put on your bathrobe. You need a shower."

Danny got himself off the bed. Yeah, a shower would be good. His ass was throbbing, and he was sweaty. He looked at the uniform and winced. There was come on it. "This is going to be hell to explain," he muttered.

"You borrowed it?"


"You'll offer to pay for it if the dry cleaning doesn't get the spots out," Clay said calmly as he blotted the stains. "I'll give you the money. You did this for me, after all." His voice was still calm, but there was a strain underneath it.

"I'll do it again." Danny nodded when he saw Clay was looking at him. "It was good for me, and I can tell it was good for you."

"It wouldn't be that way in the real world." Clay's eyes were sad. "We both know that."

"This isn't about the real world, Clay. We've got this. Each other. Don't blow it."

Clay smiled at the phrasing. "All right. I'll try not to." He tossed the tissues away. "You're a real friend, Danny. Thanks."

Danny smiled back at him. "You're welcome. It will be all right. You'll see."

"Yes, sir, Captain."

Clay laughed at the same moment as Danny, and all was well.

The End

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