Fic: Absence of Reason (JAG, Rabb/Webb, NC17)
Title: Absence of Reason
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Rabb/Webb
Rating: NC17
Summary: Part 4 of the Train series.
Clay scowled at the traffic in downtown Washington DC and glanced at the clock on his dashboard again. The only thing he hated more than having to spend his entire afternoon in meetings with nosy Senatorial committees was the traffic in DC. The place was an eternal gridlock, it seemed as though even in the dead of night there would be traffic lining the streets. He sighed as he rolled to a stop at yet another red light and dug his cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and glancing at the screen to see if he'd missed any calls while he was in his meeting.
There were three calls listed, but when he scrolled through the numbers he realized they were all work-related. Two from his own office, most likely his secretary calling to give him 'urgent' messages, and one from the governor's office calling in yet another favor, no doubt. He rolled his eyes and flipped the phone shut with a loud click, telling himself to stop being ridiculous. Harm wasn't going to call him, he'd as much as thrown the man out of his home the last time they saw one another and it was never going to happen again. It couldn't, it shouldn't have happened the first two times and it was his fault for letting Harm work his way under his skin this much.
He sighed as he caught himself repeating the mantra he'd created after New Year's Eve. He'd repeated those same words over to himself more times than he could count: It can never happen again. Even he was getting tired of the sound of his own voice saying those words, whether it was aloud in the privacy of his home or his car or that nagging, annoying voice in his head that shouted it whenever he was in a meeting and let his mind wander to Harm. The problem was that as soon as he heard himself say it he'd hear Harm's voice in his head repeating the words he'd said the last time they were together: What does it matter? It's already done.
The finality of the words was what made Clay's heart skip a beat every time he remembered them, the way Harm sounded almost callous about it, as though it didn't matter that it was Clay he was about to sleep with. He had to believe that Harm didn't care who it was he was having sex with, because he couldn't afford to let himself think that Rabb actually cared about him. There was no way they could have a relationship, he'd known that since he met the man. It was fine before when it was just an attraction that he never thought he'd act on, just a fantasy of a man that would never be attracted to him. Then Harm had followed him into that train car and ruined everything with one look. Clay had never had a prayer of resisting him when Harm had followed him the first time, and he had even less chance of saying no when Harm showed up at his door.
What was he thinking, showing up at Clay's door like they weren't both risking everything just being together? Of course Harm had a lot more to lose than he did, but that just made it more confusing. He didn't understand why the man was willing to risk his career for a few moments of pleasure with someone that could cost him everything. The strange thing was that Harm actually trusted him not to say anything, he'd looked Clay right in the eye and said that he trusted him in so many words. Everything Harm said, the way he looked at Clay right before he leaned in to kiss him, even the way the man kissed made Clay want him more. When Harmon Rabb kissed he kissed like there was nothing and no one else in the world, like he'd been waiting his entire life just for the chance to kiss Clay. By the time a week had passed Clay was so distracted from talking himself out of calling Harm that he could barely think about anything else except kissing the man again.
If he'd known that finally giving in to his attraction to Harm would make his feelings even stronger he never would have gone through with it, he had a hard enough time keeping Rabb at arm's length as it was. When Harm turned that slightly reproachful disappointed look on him and tried to convince Clay of his own humanity it was all he could do not to grab Harm and show him exactly how human he could be, but now that he'd done just that it was even worse. He'd reacted in exactly the wrong way when Harm tried to make things okay between them, but it was the only way he could react. He couldn't ask Harm to stay for dinner, talk out what happened and try to 'clear the air', as Harm had suggested. He couldn't because he knew if he did he'd end up telling Rabb that he wanted more, he wanted to see him again and not just a few stolen moments here and there.
He'd been avoiding JAG, not that he had much reason to deal with them that often but sometimes in the past he'd thought up reasons to go over there just to catch a glimpse of Harm. It was too dangerous to do that now, if he showed up there Harm would know exactly what he was thinking and he might show up on Clay's doorstep again. That was exactly what happened the last time he'd gone there on business, and he wasn't fooling Harm or himself by trying to pretend he'd needed to see Mac that day. Still, a week had passed with no contact from Harm so maybe it was safe to start easing back into a routine. Maybe he could show his face at JAG again without completely humiliating himself…as soon as he caught himself entertaining the possibility he shook his head forcefully, turning his car onto the highway and heading for his condo before he got any dumb ideas.
He couldn't see Harm, he couldn't call him with some lame excuse relating to one of Harm's cases. He couldn't pretend to need a member of JAG to help him with one of his cases, and he definitely couldn't ask Harm to come over again. They weren't speaking and it was for the best - it was exactly what he wanted. So it didn't matter that Harm hadn't called him because even if he did nothing more could happen between them. Not that Harm probably even had his cell phone number, there were very few people that had that number for a good reason. He had Harm's number, though, he'd had it for a long time and even thought up a reasonable excuse to use it on occasion. Maybe if he called Harm wouldn't even answer, maybe he was in court and Clay could just listen to that voice on his voicemail message and then hang up. Harm would never have to know, and if he actually answered Clay didn't have to say anything. He could just hang up, people did it all the time.
Sure, fifteen-year-old girls, a voice in the back of his head whispered in a suspiciously mocking tone. He groaned and told the voice to mind its own damn business before he fished his phone out of his pocket again and pressed the speed dial that was programmed with Harm's number. He breathed a sigh of relief when it rang straight into voicemail, allowing himself the briefest of instants to smile as the other man's rich, velvety voice sounded in his ear. There was definitely something to be said for personalized voicemail messages, and Clay found himself thanking whoever was listening that Harm was an old-fashioned guy at heart.
When he realized the message was about to end he clicked the end button on his phone and dropped it back in his pocket with a sigh, telling himself that he needed to get a grip. He was truly losing it, calling cell phones in the middle of the afternoon and listening to voicemail messages went beyond even the loosest definition of rational behavior for a high-ranking CIA agent. The things Harm did to him were bad, they were distracting and probably unhealthy and damn if he couldn't stop thinking about the way he felt whenever the man walked into a room. Even now - especially now, he corrected himself -
now that he knew what it felt like to touch Harm and be touched by him he'd never be able to stand in the same room with the other man and not feel his presence in every vein.
He sighed as he pulled off the highway and turned his car in the direction of his condo, deciding against going back to the office to check in. Whatever had happened in his absence could wait until tomorrow, and if it couldn't he was sure there would be a message or two on his machine about it. As if it could read his thoughts his cell phone chose that moment to ring, and he scowled and briefly considered ignoring it before reaching into his pocket and flipping it open. "Webb," he barked into the receiver without bothering to look at the number on the display.
Instead of his secretary's voice he heard a low, familiar chuckle on the other end of the line, followed by that same voice he'd been thinking about all afternoon, softer than usual and full of amusement. "I thought it might have been you that called and didn't leave a message."
"Rabb?" Clay breathed, remembering too late to try to sound irritated that the other man was bothering him. "How did you get this number?"
"It was on my cell phone display when I got out of court," Harm answered as though Clay should have thought of that. Which he should have, he reminded himself as he struggled to come up with an excuse for calling in the first place. "I have to admit, I was hoping it was you."
Clay's heart skipped a beat at the admission and he promptly told it to stay out of his conversation, throwing in a reminder that Harm was only interested in one thing from them before his heart got any ideas. "I don't know why, Rabb. I was only calling to check on the McCort case and find out if Mac's going to stop nosing around about her witness. If she won't listen to me maybe she'll listen to you."
"We settled that case out of court almost a week ago," Harm answered, and Clay could just picture the self-satisfied smirk on the man's face. He swallowed a groan and considered hanging up on Harm, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. Rabb had his number now, so unless he got a new cell number he wasn't getting out of this one. "You don't have to make up excuses to call, considering," Harm added when Clay didn't say anything.
"It wasn't an excuse," Clay muttered, but even he could hear how unconvincing that sounded. They both knew damn well that it was an excuse, although Harm seemed to be more sure than Clay of the reason he'd called in the first place. He didn't know what he wanted, whether he'd been hoping to see Harm again or if he really had just wanted to hear his voice.
Harm seemed determined to ignore his lies, however, either that or he hadn't even heard the denial. "I'm on my way home," Harm said as Clay registered the sound of a car door closing on the other end of the line. "Meet me there."
Clay swallowed hard as he tried to convince himself that he'd just heard Harm right. He hadn't just suggested…no, they'd agreed. They'd agreed this was a bad idea and it had to stop. Hadn't they? Harm had never actually said the words, Clay realized as he listened to the sound of the other man's car engine starting. He'd said them, over and over again until he thought he might scream if he heard himself say them again, but Harm never had. "Rabb, be serious."
"I am serious, Clay. I'll see you in fifteen minutes." The line clicked and went dead before Clay had time to react, and he closed his cell phone and dropped it back in his pocket without even registering the action. He could just go home and ignore Harm's request - no, demand - but the truth was he didn't want to. The last thing he wanted to do right now was go home alone when Harmon Rabb was on his way to his loft and expecting Clay to follow him. He sighed and drove past his street, shaking his head at his own weakness.
By the time he got to Harm's building and parked in a discreet spot near the back of the lot the other man's car was already in its space, and he swallowed the surge of nervousness he felt as he made his way up the stairs to Harm's door. He hesitated a moment before knocking, willing himself to calm down enough to actually enjoy this. It was just sex, the best sex he'd ever had despite the fact that it could never be anything else. Maybe because of that fact, he wasn't even sure anymore. He knew he felt something for Harm other than lust, though, and as much as he wanted to be with him again he knew it would hurt even worse when he went home to his empty condo.
Harm answered the door almost as soon as he knocked, a warm smile brightening his already perfect features as he stood aside to let Clay in. He'd already changed out of his uniform, and Clay might have been disappointed if he didn't look so damn good in his Navy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The sweatpants rode low on his hips, dipping just enough when he reached to shut the door that Clay caught a flash of perfect skin stretched across a flat stomach. A memory of kneeling in front of that perfect body passed through his brain and he shut it down quickly, not wanting to get ahead of himself before he even knew why Harm had invited him over. For all he knew the other man had decided they really did need to clear the air, that he was going to lay to rest any hope that anything else could happen between them.
All those thoughts flew out of his mind as soon as he felt strong hands land on his shoulders and sliding his wool trench coat down his arms. "I'm glad you decided to come over," Harm whispered in his ear, his chest pressing against Clay's back and erasing the sudden chill he felt as his coat was pulled off him. He tried and failed to suppress a shiver at the feeling of Harm's hot breath on his ear, earning him the low, throaty chuckle that at once irritated the hell out of him and turned him on. He knew he could listen to Harm talk for hours on end about anything and never get tired of the sound of that voice, that was the main reason he never let Harm talk to him if he could help it. He was never one to put himself in the path of temptation, it was dangerous to his career and the people that depended on him to remain in control at all times.
Then those strong hands were on his shoulders again, sliding his jacket off to join his coat and he had to admit that sometimes giving into temptation felt really, really good. The fact that they most definitely should not be standing in Harm's loft while Harm's arms circled his back and began working on his buttons just made him want it more, and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the extraordinary feeling of Harmon Rabb undressing him. "Harm," he murmured as his brain tried one last-ditch effort to talk some sense into the rest of him.
"Yes?" Harm answered, his lips still hovering close to Clay's ear. Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Clay's neck, his tongue darting out to taste the other man as Clay gasped and leaned back into the touch.
"Nothing, forget it," Clay managed to choke out as his shirt slid off his arms and Harm began yanking his undershirt out of his pants.
"Forgotten," Harm said, planting one last kiss on Clay's throat before he pulled away enough to turn the smaller man so they were face to face. He leaned down and captured Clay's mouth with his, his tongue gently urging Clay's lips open as his hands landed on either side of Clay's face. Even if he wanted to resist Clay knew he was helpless, he'd never felt this helpless to resist anything in his life and it thrilled him and terrified him at the same time. Just the movement of Harm's lips against his set his whole body on fire, and he felt his hands move of their own accord to slide under the taller man's T-shirt. He pushed the cotton up over smooth skin, his fingers grazing the now-familiar chest as Harm groaned and began moving them backwards toward the bed.
Harm's lips left his long enough to yank the shirt over his head and drop it on the floor before he dove for Clay's mouth again, his hands everywhere as he pulled the other man down onto the mattress. The thought that they were actually in Harm's bed made Clay's head spin, even if the taller man wasn't working the zipper of his pants down the thought that they'd actually made it to the bed was enough to make Clay harder than he even thought possible. He'd never expected to find himself here, he'd never even let himself picture it. Whenever he fantasized about Harmon Rabb it was always in deserted JAG offices or some nameless place on a case of some sort or another. He'd never let his mind wander to the places where they lived, but then he'd never actually expected this to happen.
He forced himself to stop thinking and slid his hands beneath the waistband of Harm's sweatpants, easing the fabric over his hips as Harm tore his mouth away from Clay's and pressed his lips to the smaller man's collarbone. A low moan escaped Clay's throat as blunt teeth nipped at his flesh, then the moan shifted to a groan as he eased Harm's sweatpants down and realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. Harm slid off him long enough to kick his sweatpants onto the floor, pulling Clay's pants and boxers down his legs in one swift movement and tossing them in a pile with the rest of their clothes before he rolled back on top of the other man.
"Tell me what you want, Clay," Harm whispered, his mouth pressed to the soft skin just below Clay's ear. "Anything, whatever you want."
Clay's heart lodged in his throat as he listened to Harm promising him anything. He knew the other man would never be able to give him everything he wanted, no matter how much he wanted it. And he did, now more than even half an hour ago when he'd been driving home and telling himself they could never do this again. His mind raced as he ran through the possibilities of what he could have from Harm, it wasn't enough but it was more than he'd ever hoped for. "I want to feel your mouth on me," he finally answered, his voice coming out in a series of ragged breaths.
Harm's lips found his again for one more frantic, breathless kiss before he began working his way down Clay's chest, his tongue teasing the hot skin underneath him as he held Clay's hips fast against the mattress. A low, tortured sound escaped Clay's throat as Harm teased him, planting lazy kisses across his abdomen before finally taking pity on the other man and running his tongue experimentally across the tip of Clay's aching erection. Clay moaned and buried his fingers in Harm's hair as those perfect lips slid slowly, almost torturously down his length. His hips thrust helplessly against Harm's strong hands, seeking even more of the wet heat that was making his head spin.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, his head thrown back against the pillow as he focused all his still-working brain cells on not losing control too soon. He knew he couldn't look down and watch himself sliding in and out between Harm's lips or he would lose it, and he didn't want to lose that talented tongue or the thumb drawing a slow, steady pattern in his hipbone any sooner than he had to. The combination of Harm's hands on him and Harm's lips and tongue teasing him were too much, though, and when he felt teeth lightly scraping the base of his erection it was enough. He came with a surprised cry, his fingers tightening too hard in Harm's hair as the other man swallowed around him.
"Christ, Rabb," he gasped as Harm slid back up the mattress to settle against him.
"Don't call me that," Harm whispered, the plaintive tone of his voice forcing Clay's eyes open to study the other man's expression. "You can call me Harm, Clay. At least when you're in my bed."
"Alright," Clay answered, giving in to the urge to run his fingers through the other man's dark hair. He wasn't sure what exactly to make of the plaintive quality of Harm's voice or the fact that he cared what Clay called him, but Clay wasn't about to argue with him. Instead he pulled his hand away from Harm's hair to gently push him down onto the mattress, leaning forward to tease the taller man's lips open and taste himself on Harm's tongue.
He heard a sigh escape one of them but he wasn't sure which one of them made the noise, but he didn't let himself dwell on it. There was no way Harm was as sorry as he was that none of this was real, he couldn't be. Even if he wasn't military he'd never expressed an interest in Clay, and although Clay could tell from the way Harm touched him that he'd done this before he didn't know with who or how long it had been. Images of Harm with countless faceless women had plagued Clay before, and since that first time on the train images of him and random faceless men had started to plague Clay even more. Suddenly those men had faces, though, and he winced and tore his mouth away from the warm lips underneath his as he realized he was picturing Harm with various men from JAG. It wasn't that out of the question, that was the problem. Clay knew for a fact that Tiner had tendencies in that direction, and he could easily picture Galindez with another man. He just didn't want to picture him with Harm.
The surge of jealousy didn't take him by surprise, but he pushed it as far back in his mind as he could and began working his way down the taller man's solid chest. Harm's hands landed on his shoulders, guiding him lower as he caught one nipple in his teeth and sucked until Harm gasped. He smiled at the sound and let Harm push him further down the bed, settling between Harm's thighs and closing his fist around the hard flesh in front of him. He began stroking slowly, his eyes glued to Harm's face as he watched the other man's eyes fluttered closed, his back arching off the mattress.
Clay kept stroking as he slid his tongue over the sensitive head, earning another moan before he closed his lips around the head and slid his mouth as far down Harm's length as he could go. He kept up a slow, agonizing pace, taking his time to listen to Harm's reactions to each stroke and each touch of his tongue. "Clay, please," Harm moaned, sending a jolt of desire straight down Clay's spine as he heard his name in that breathless, desire-filled voice. He picked up the pace as Harm twisted the sheets on either side of him until his knuckles whitened, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Finally Clay swallowed as much of Harm as he could and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard as he felt the body under his tense and then lose control.
Harm was still trembling and gasping for breath when Clay pulled off him and sat up, looking down at the body still stretched out on the bed. He hated to get up and put his clothes back on already, it seemed as though he'd just gotten to the other man's apartment. Still, this was the way it was between them, and he couldn't change the rules just because he wished he could. It was too dangerous to stay, even if he could bring himself to ask. He forced himself to stand up and reached for the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, not looking back as he heard Harm sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the mattress.
"You don't have to go," Harm said, his voice cutting through the stillness of the loft and making Clay jump. He turned carefully, his expression blank as he looked down at the other man.
"Yes, I do," Clay answered, surprising himself with the even tone he managed. "I shouldn't have come over in the first place."
Harm smiled but his eyes held all the regret Clay was feeling. He couldn't let himself believe it was for the same reasons, though - Harm was just feeling guilty about the way they kept leaving things, but he couldn't make the other man feel better about that. This whole situation probably went against everything that Harm stood for, all his moral superiority went right out the window the minute he stepped into that train car behind Clay.
"But you did, Clay," Harm said, his voice lower than usual. Clay raised one eyebrow as he listened to the other man try to seduce him into staying, part of him wanting to laugh at the obviousness of Harm's so-called charms. Then again he was the one standing in the man's bedroom with half his clothes still on the floor, so it was probably smarter to keep any sarcastic remarks to himself for the time being. "You could stay. It's just one night."
Clay steeled himself against the pleading tone of Harm's voice, willing himself not to cave in and stay. He wanted to, God knows he'd just been wishing that very thing a few minutes ago. He couldn't keep doing this to himself, though, just because Harm was between relationships and horny didn't mean he had to let the man use him. He wondered fleetingly what had happened to the woman from New Year's, but he didn't bother to ask. It didn't matter, he was nothing to Harm and it didn't matter who he was or wasn't seeing. "I have to go, Harm," he finally answered, careful not to call him by his last name again. Suddenly the whole situation felt too intimate, and he knew if he stayed he'd end up saying something he regretted. "I have business to take care of."
Harm sighed and stood up, but he didn't argue with Clay as he watched him pull his shirt back on and button it. He slipped his sweatpants back on and walked toward the door, picking up Clay's jacket and overcoat and holding them out for the other man. "Thanks," Clay mumbled as he took his jacket and slid it on.
"Any time," Harm answered, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Clay's mouth before he pulled away and backed toward the bathroom. Clay held his gaze for another moment before he forced himself to turn and pull the door open, locking it before he let it close behind him. He'd made the right decision, he knew he had. Just because he wanted to take Harm up on his offer and stay didn't mean it was a good idea, not when he was already in way over his head. Harm could never know about that, though, and the more time he spent around the other man the more he put himself at risk of saying something he'd regret. It was better this way, he'd go home and forget all about Harm and what wasn't happening between them. He told himself he believed that and forced himself to walk down the stairs toward the parking lot and his car.
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Rabb/Webb
Rating: NC17
Summary: Part 4 of the Train series.
Clay scowled at the traffic in downtown Washington DC and glanced at the clock on his dashboard again. The only thing he hated more than having to spend his entire afternoon in meetings with nosy Senatorial committees was the traffic in DC. The place was an eternal gridlock, it seemed as though even in the dead of night there would be traffic lining the streets. He sighed as he rolled to a stop at yet another red light and dug his cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and glancing at the screen to see if he'd missed any calls while he was in his meeting.
There were three calls listed, but when he scrolled through the numbers he realized they were all work-related. Two from his own office, most likely his secretary calling to give him 'urgent' messages, and one from the governor's office calling in yet another favor, no doubt. He rolled his eyes and flipped the phone shut with a loud click, telling himself to stop being ridiculous. Harm wasn't going to call him, he'd as much as thrown the man out of his home the last time they saw one another and it was never going to happen again. It couldn't, it shouldn't have happened the first two times and it was his fault for letting Harm work his way under his skin this much.
He sighed as he caught himself repeating the mantra he'd created after New Year's Eve. He'd repeated those same words over to himself more times than he could count: It can never happen again. Even he was getting tired of the sound of his own voice saying those words, whether it was aloud in the privacy of his home or his car or that nagging, annoying voice in his head that shouted it whenever he was in a meeting and let his mind wander to Harm. The problem was that as soon as he heard himself say it he'd hear Harm's voice in his head repeating the words he'd said the last time they were together: What does it matter? It's already done.
The finality of the words was what made Clay's heart skip a beat every time he remembered them, the way Harm sounded almost callous about it, as though it didn't matter that it was Clay he was about to sleep with. He had to believe that Harm didn't care who it was he was having sex with, because he couldn't afford to let himself think that Rabb actually cared about him. There was no way they could have a relationship, he'd known that since he met the man. It was fine before when it was just an attraction that he never thought he'd act on, just a fantasy of a man that would never be attracted to him. Then Harm had followed him into that train car and ruined everything with one look. Clay had never had a prayer of resisting him when Harm had followed him the first time, and he had even less chance of saying no when Harm showed up at his door.
What was he thinking, showing up at Clay's door like they weren't both risking everything just being together? Of course Harm had a lot more to lose than he did, but that just made it more confusing. He didn't understand why the man was willing to risk his career for a few moments of pleasure with someone that could cost him everything. The strange thing was that Harm actually trusted him not to say anything, he'd looked Clay right in the eye and said that he trusted him in so many words. Everything Harm said, the way he looked at Clay right before he leaned in to kiss him, even the way the man kissed made Clay want him more. When Harmon Rabb kissed he kissed like there was nothing and no one else in the world, like he'd been waiting his entire life just for the chance to kiss Clay. By the time a week had passed Clay was so distracted from talking himself out of calling Harm that he could barely think about anything else except kissing the man again.
If he'd known that finally giving in to his attraction to Harm would make his feelings even stronger he never would have gone through with it, he had a hard enough time keeping Rabb at arm's length as it was. When Harm turned that slightly reproachful disappointed look on him and tried to convince Clay of his own humanity it was all he could do not to grab Harm and show him exactly how human he could be, but now that he'd done just that it was even worse. He'd reacted in exactly the wrong way when Harm tried to make things okay between them, but it was the only way he could react. He couldn't ask Harm to stay for dinner, talk out what happened and try to 'clear the air', as Harm had suggested. He couldn't because he knew if he did he'd end up telling Rabb that he wanted more, he wanted to see him again and not just a few stolen moments here and there.
He'd been avoiding JAG, not that he had much reason to deal with them that often but sometimes in the past he'd thought up reasons to go over there just to catch a glimpse of Harm. It was too dangerous to do that now, if he showed up there Harm would know exactly what he was thinking and he might show up on Clay's doorstep again. That was exactly what happened the last time he'd gone there on business, and he wasn't fooling Harm or himself by trying to pretend he'd needed to see Mac that day. Still, a week had passed with no contact from Harm so maybe it was safe to start easing back into a routine. Maybe he could show his face at JAG again without completely humiliating himself…as soon as he caught himself entertaining the possibility he shook his head forcefully, turning his car onto the highway and heading for his condo before he got any dumb ideas.
He couldn't see Harm, he couldn't call him with some lame excuse relating to one of Harm's cases. He couldn't pretend to need a member of JAG to help him with one of his cases, and he definitely couldn't ask Harm to come over again. They weren't speaking and it was for the best - it was exactly what he wanted. So it didn't matter that Harm hadn't called him because even if he did nothing more could happen between them. Not that Harm probably even had his cell phone number, there were very few people that had that number for a good reason. He had Harm's number, though, he'd had it for a long time and even thought up a reasonable excuse to use it on occasion. Maybe if he called Harm wouldn't even answer, maybe he was in court and Clay could just listen to that voice on his voicemail message and then hang up. Harm would never have to know, and if he actually answered Clay didn't have to say anything. He could just hang up, people did it all the time.
Sure, fifteen-year-old girls, a voice in the back of his head whispered in a suspiciously mocking tone. He groaned and told the voice to mind its own damn business before he fished his phone out of his pocket again and pressed the speed dial that was programmed with Harm's number. He breathed a sigh of relief when it rang straight into voicemail, allowing himself the briefest of instants to smile as the other man's rich, velvety voice sounded in his ear. There was definitely something to be said for personalized voicemail messages, and Clay found himself thanking whoever was listening that Harm was an old-fashioned guy at heart.
When he realized the message was about to end he clicked the end button on his phone and dropped it back in his pocket with a sigh, telling himself that he needed to get a grip. He was truly losing it, calling cell phones in the middle of the afternoon and listening to voicemail messages went beyond even the loosest definition of rational behavior for a high-ranking CIA agent. The things Harm did to him were bad, they were distracting and probably unhealthy and damn if he couldn't stop thinking about the way he felt whenever the man walked into a room. Even now - especially now, he corrected himself -
now that he knew what it felt like to touch Harm and be touched by him he'd never be able to stand in the same room with the other man and not feel his presence in every vein.
He sighed as he pulled off the highway and turned his car in the direction of his condo, deciding against going back to the office to check in. Whatever had happened in his absence could wait until tomorrow, and if it couldn't he was sure there would be a message or two on his machine about it. As if it could read his thoughts his cell phone chose that moment to ring, and he scowled and briefly considered ignoring it before reaching into his pocket and flipping it open. "Webb," he barked into the receiver without bothering to look at the number on the display.
Instead of his secretary's voice he heard a low, familiar chuckle on the other end of the line, followed by that same voice he'd been thinking about all afternoon, softer than usual and full of amusement. "I thought it might have been you that called and didn't leave a message."
"Rabb?" Clay breathed, remembering too late to try to sound irritated that the other man was bothering him. "How did you get this number?"
"It was on my cell phone display when I got out of court," Harm answered as though Clay should have thought of that. Which he should have, he reminded himself as he struggled to come up with an excuse for calling in the first place. "I have to admit, I was hoping it was you."
Clay's heart skipped a beat at the admission and he promptly told it to stay out of his conversation, throwing in a reminder that Harm was only interested in one thing from them before his heart got any ideas. "I don't know why, Rabb. I was only calling to check on the McCort case and find out if Mac's going to stop nosing around about her witness. If she won't listen to me maybe she'll listen to you."
"We settled that case out of court almost a week ago," Harm answered, and Clay could just picture the self-satisfied smirk on the man's face. He swallowed a groan and considered hanging up on Harm, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. Rabb had his number now, so unless he got a new cell number he wasn't getting out of this one. "You don't have to make up excuses to call, considering," Harm added when Clay didn't say anything.
"It wasn't an excuse," Clay muttered, but even he could hear how unconvincing that sounded. They both knew damn well that it was an excuse, although Harm seemed to be more sure than Clay of the reason he'd called in the first place. He didn't know what he wanted, whether he'd been hoping to see Harm again or if he really had just wanted to hear his voice.
Harm seemed determined to ignore his lies, however, either that or he hadn't even heard the denial. "I'm on my way home," Harm said as Clay registered the sound of a car door closing on the other end of the line. "Meet me there."
Clay swallowed hard as he tried to convince himself that he'd just heard Harm right. He hadn't just suggested…no, they'd agreed. They'd agreed this was a bad idea and it had to stop. Hadn't they? Harm had never actually said the words, Clay realized as he listened to the sound of the other man's car engine starting. He'd said them, over and over again until he thought he might scream if he heard himself say them again, but Harm never had. "Rabb, be serious."
"I am serious, Clay. I'll see you in fifteen minutes." The line clicked and went dead before Clay had time to react, and he closed his cell phone and dropped it back in his pocket without even registering the action. He could just go home and ignore Harm's request - no, demand - but the truth was he didn't want to. The last thing he wanted to do right now was go home alone when Harmon Rabb was on his way to his loft and expecting Clay to follow him. He sighed and drove past his street, shaking his head at his own weakness.
By the time he got to Harm's building and parked in a discreet spot near the back of the lot the other man's car was already in its space, and he swallowed the surge of nervousness he felt as he made his way up the stairs to Harm's door. He hesitated a moment before knocking, willing himself to calm down enough to actually enjoy this. It was just sex, the best sex he'd ever had despite the fact that it could never be anything else. Maybe because of that fact, he wasn't even sure anymore. He knew he felt something for Harm other than lust, though, and as much as he wanted to be with him again he knew it would hurt even worse when he went home to his empty condo.
Harm answered the door almost as soon as he knocked, a warm smile brightening his already perfect features as he stood aside to let Clay in. He'd already changed out of his uniform, and Clay might have been disappointed if he didn't look so damn good in his Navy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The sweatpants rode low on his hips, dipping just enough when he reached to shut the door that Clay caught a flash of perfect skin stretched across a flat stomach. A memory of kneeling in front of that perfect body passed through his brain and he shut it down quickly, not wanting to get ahead of himself before he even knew why Harm had invited him over. For all he knew the other man had decided they really did need to clear the air, that he was going to lay to rest any hope that anything else could happen between them.
All those thoughts flew out of his mind as soon as he felt strong hands land on his shoulders and sliding his wool trench coat down his arms. "I'm glad you decided to come over," Harm whispered in his ear, his chest pressing against Clay's back and erasing the sudden chill he felt as his coat was pulled off him. He tried and failed to suppress a shiver at the feeling of Harm's hot breath on his ear, earning him the low, throaty chuckle that at once irritated the hell out of him and turned him on. He knew he could listen to Harm talk for hours on end about anything and never get tired of the sound of that voice, that was the main reason he never let Harm talk to him if he could help it. He was never one to put himself in the path of temptation, it was dangerous to his career and the people that depended on him to remain in control at all times.
Then those strong hands were on his shoulders again, sliding his jacket off to join his coat and he had to admit that sometimes giving into temptation felt really, really good. The fact that they most definitely should not be standing in Harm's loft while Harm's arms circled his back and began working on his buttons just made him want it more, and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the extraordinary feeling of Harmon Rabb undressing him. "Harm," he murmured as his brain tried one last-ditch effort to talk some sense into the rest of him.
"Yes?" Harm answered, his lips still hovering close to Clay's ear. Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Clay's neck, his tongue darting out to taste the other man as Clay gasped and leaned back into the touch.
"Nothing, forget it," Clay managed to choke out as his shirt slid off his arms and Harm began yanking his undershirt out of his pants.
"Forgotten," Harm said, planting one last kiss on Clay's throat before he pulled away enough to turn the smaller man so they were face to face. He leaned down and captured Clay's mouth with his, his tongue gently urging Clay's lips open as his hands landed on either side of Clay's face. Even if he wanted to resist Clay knew he was helpless, he'd never felt this helpless to resist anything in his life and it thrilled him and terrified him at the same time. Just the movement of Harm's lips against his set his whole body on fire, and he felt his hands move of their own accord to slide under the taller man's T-shirt. He pushed the cotton up over smooth skin, his fingers grazing the now-familiar chest as Harm groaned and began moving them backwards toward the bed.
Harm's lips left his long enough to yank the shirt over his head and drop it on the floor before he dove for Clay's mouth again, his hands everywhere as he pulled the other man down onto the mattress. The thought that they were actually in Harm's bed made Clay's head spin, even if the taller man wasn't working the zipper of his pants down the thought that they'd actually made it to the bed was enough to make Clay harder than he even thought possible. He'd never expected to find himself here, he'd never even let himself picture it. Whenever he fantasized about Harmon Rabb it was always in deserted JAG offices or some nameless place on a case of some sort or another. He'd never let his mind wander to the places where they lived, but then he'd never actually expected this to happen.
He forced himself to stop thinking and slid his hands beneath the waistband of Harm's sweatpants, easing the fabric over his hips as Harm tore his mouth away from Clay's and pressed his lips to the smaller man's collarbone. A low moan escaped Clay's throat as blunt teeth nipped at his flesh, then the moan shifted to a groan as he eased Harm's sweatpants down and realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. Harm slid off him long enough to kick his sweatpants onto the floor, pulling Clay's pants and boxers down his legs in one swift movement and tossing them in a pile with the rest of their clothes before he rolled back on top of the other man.
"Tell me what you want, Clay," Harm whispered, his mouth pressed to the soft skin just below Clay's ear. "Anything, whatever you want."
Clay's heart lodged in his throat as he listened to Harm promising him anything. He knew the other man would never be able to give him everything he wanted, no matter how much he wanted it. And he did, now more than even half an hour ago when he'd been driving home and telling himself they could never do this again. His mind raced as he ran through the possibilities of what he could have from Harm, it wasn't enough but it was more than he'd ever hoped for. "I want to feel your mouth on me," he finally answered, his voice coming out in a series of ragged breaths.
Harm's lips found his again for one more frantic, breathless kiss before he began working his way down Clay's chest, his tongue teasing the hot skin underneath him as he held Clay's hips fast against the mattress. A low, tortured sound escaped Clay's throat as Harm teased him, planting lazy kisses across his abdomen before finally taking pity on the other man and running his tongue experimentally across the tip of Clay's aching erection. Clay moaned and buried his fingers in Harm's hair as those perfect lips slid slowly, almost torturously down his length. His hips thrust helplessly against Harm's strong hands, seeking even more of the wet heat that was making his head spin.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, his head thrown back against the pillow as he focused all his still-working brain cells on not losing control too soon. He knew he couldn't look down and watch himself sliding in and out between Harm's lips or he would lose it, and he didn't want to lose that talented tongue or the thumb drawing a slow, steady pattern in his hipbone any sooner than he had to. The combination of Harm's hands on him and Harm's lips and tongue teasing him were too much, though, and when he felt teeth lightly scraping the base of his erection it was enough. He came with a surprised cry, his fingers tightening too hard in Harm's hair as the other man swallowed around him.
"Christ, Rabb," he gasped as Harm slid back up the mattress to settle against him.
"Don't call me that," Harm whispered, the plaintive tone of his voice forcing Clay's eyes open to study the other man's expression. "You can call me Harm, Clay. At least when you're in my bed."
"Alright," Clay answered, giving in to the urge to run his fingers through the other man's dark hair. He wasn't sure what exactly to make of the plaintive quality of Harm's voice or the fact that he cared what Clay called him, but Clay wasn't about to argue with him. Instead he pulled his hand away from Harm's hair to gently push him down onto the mattress, leaning forward to tease the taller man's lips open and taste himself on Harm's tongue.
He heard a sigh escape one of them but he wasn't sure which one of them made the noise, but he didn't let himself dwell on it. There was no way Harm was as sorry as he was that none of this was real, he couldn't be. Even if he wasn't military he'd never expressed an interest in Clay, and although Clay could tell from the way Harm touched him that he'd done this before he didn't know with who or how long it had been. Images of Harm with countless faceless women had plagued Clay before, and since that first time on the train images of him and random faceless men had started to plague Clay even more. Suddenly those men had faces, though, and he winced and tore his mouth away from the warm lips underneath his as he realized he was picturing Harm with various men from JAG. It wasn't that out of the question, that was the problem. Clay knew for a fact that Tiner had tendencies in that direction, and he could easily picture Galindez with another man. He just didn't want to picture him with Harm.
The surge of jealousy didn't take him by surprise, but he pushed it as far back in his mind as he could and began working his way down the taller man's solid chest. Harm's hands landed on his shoulders, guiding him lower as he caught one nipple in his teeth and sucked until Harm gasped. He smiled at the sound and let Harm push him further down the bed, settling between Harm's thighs and closing his fist around the hard flesh in front of him. He began stroking slowly, his eyes glued to Harm's face as he watched the other man's eyes fluttered closed, his back arching off the mattress.
Clay kept stroking as he slid his tongue over the sensitive head, earning another moan before he closed his lips around the head and slid his mouth as far down Harm's length as he could go. He kept up a slow, agonizing pace, taking his time to listen to Harm's reactions to each stroke and each touch of his tongue. "Clay, please," Harm moaned, sending a jolt of desire straight down Clay's spine as he heard his name in that breathless, desire-filled voice. He picked up the pace as Harm twisted the sheets on either side of him until his knuckles whitened, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Finally Clay swallowed as much of Harm as he could and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard as he felt the body under his tense and then lose control.
Harm was still trembling and gasping for breath when Clay pulled off him and sat up, looking down at the body still stretched out on the bed. He hated to get up and put his clothes back on already, it seemed as though he'd just gotten to the other man's apartment. Still, this was the way it was between them, and he couldn't change the rules just because he wished he could. It was too dangerous to stay, even if he could bring himself to ask. He forced himself to stand up and reached for the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, not looking back as he heard Harm sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the mattress.
"You don't have to go," Harm said, his voice cutting through the stillness of the loft and making Clay jump. He turned carefully, his expression blank as he looked down at the other man.
"Yes, I do," Clay answered, surprising himself with the even tone he managed. "I shouldn't have come over in the first place."
Harm smiled but his eyes held all the regret Clay was feeling. He couldn't let himself believe it was for the same reasons, though - Harm was just feeling guilty about the way they kept leaving things, but he couldn't make the other man feel better about that. This whole situation probably went against everything that Harm stood for, all his moral superiority went right out the window the minute he stepped into that train car behind Clay.
"But you did, Clay," Harm said, his voice lower than usual. Clay raised one eyebrow as he listened to the other man try to seduce him into staying, part of him wanting to laugh at the obviousness of Harm's so-called charms. Then again he was the one standing in the man's bedroom with half his clothes still on the floor, so it was probably smarter to keep any sarcastic remarks to himself for the time being. "You could stay. It's just one night."
Clay steeled himself against the pleading tone of Harm's voice, willing himself not to cave in and stay. He wanted to, God knows he'd just been wishing that very thing a few minutes ago. He couldn't keep doing this to himself, though, just because Harm was between relationships and horny didn't mean he had to let the man use him. He wondered fleetingly what had happened to the woman from New Year's, but he didn't bother to ask. It didn't matter, he was nothing to Harm and it didn't matter who he was or wasn't seeing. "I have to go, Harm," he finally answered, careful not to call him by his last name again. Suddenly the whole situation felt too intimate, and he knew if he stayed he'd end up saying something he regretted. "I have business to take care of."
Harm sighed and stood up, but he didn't argue with Clay as he watched him pull his shirt back on and button it. He slipped his sweatpants back on and walked toward the door, picking up Clay's jacket and overcoat and holding them out for the other man. "Thanks," Clay mumbled as he took his jacket and slid it on.
"Any time," Harm answered, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Clay's mouth before he pulled away and backed toward the bathroom. Clay held his gaze for another moment before he forced himself to turn and pull the door open, locking it before he let it close behind him. He'd made the right decision, he knew he had. Just because he wanted to take Harm up on his offer and stay didn't mean it was a good idea, not when he was already in way over his head. Harm could never know about that, though, and the more time he spent around the other man the more he put himself at risk of saying something he'd regret. It was better this way, he'd go home and forget all about Harm and what wasn't happening between them. He told himself he believed that and forced himself to walk down the stairs toward the parking lot and his car.