Fic: Games Secret Agents Play (JAG, Clay/Harm, PG)
Title: Games Secret Agents Play
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Rabb/Webb
Rating: PG
Summary: Clay helps Harm.
“Unghh…don’t stop that,” he moans, his eyes still closed as he strains to shift a little further into my hands.
“Don’t stop what, Commander?” I ask as innocently as I can manage, keeping the smirk out of my voice even though I can’t stop it from turning up my lips. It doesn’t matter, though, he can’t see me. That’s part of the game, he keeps his eyes closed and that way he doesn’t have to think about whose hands are working the soreness out of his lower back. I never close my eyes, though -- he’s never, ever touched me in return so all I get from this is visual stimulation. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s enough, but the sight of Harmon Rabb, Jr. barely clothed and writhing under my touch is enough to fuel a lot of fantasies.
I never thought I’d have an opportunity to get my hands on Harm, much less in such an intimate way, but here we are and the amazing thing is that he called me and asked me to come over and do this for him. I’d prefer to do it in the comfort of my own apartment, he lives like a bachelor and I’ll never understand his Spartan tastes. Then again, these moments alone together are something removed from the rest of our lives, so maybe the setting is appropriate. I can’t help wondering if he’ll think of the feeling of my hands on his skin later, though. Once I’m gone and he’s alone in this same bed will he picture me sitting next to him, fully clothed while he stretches out next to me in nothing but a pair of jogging shorts?
“There…right there,” he breathes, and I feel my starched pants get a little tighter just from the sound of his voice. “God, that feels amazing. You should really be getting paid for this, Clay.”
That’s another thing…ever since this started he’s been calling me Clay instead of Webb like the rest of the JAG staff. Not that I’m complaining, mind you - I don’t have that much interaction with him in a work-related capacity anyway. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d have this kind of interaction with him, of course I was attracted to him from the start but I never thought it would get this far. Hell, I never thought I’d see the inside of his apartment, not that I can say that’s been a thrill but it’s closer to him than I ever planned to be.
I chuckle low in my throat and move my hands in the direction he seems to be enjoying most. “My real talents lie in other areas. I’m afraid this isn’t a talent I’ve spent much time cultivating.”
“Well the rest of the world’s loss is my…my…gain,” he stammers through gritted teeth as I hit a particularly sensitive spot on his spine. “There has to be something I can do to repay you for this.”
He says that every time I find myself here. I know it’s just idle talk that people say, but that doesn’t stop the images that assault my mind every time. I feel my fingers start to shake a little but I hold my breath and will myself to regain control before he notices the affect his words have on me.
“I look at it as an investment,” I answer when I find my voice again. “You’ve proved useful to me in the past, if you manage to damage yourself to the point where you’re incapacitated you won’t be any good to me at all.”
He laughs into the pillow and shifts his hips so my hands are a little lower on his back, just skirting the waistband of his running shorts. “There are other lawyers on the JAG staff, you know.”
I know I shouldn’t but I let my fingers trail off his back and dip across his hips just for a second before I pull them back and focus on the pulled muscle again. The air smells of the Flex-all he insists I rub into his back, it’s not the scent I would choose for a romantic liaison but then again it suits Harm. It does a little to distract me from the situation as well, but not enough to stop my imagination from wandering. It was purely by luck that Harm finally found a use for me outside of work, in fact if I’d been a few minutes earlier getting to JAG Headquarters the day it started I wouldn’t be here right now.
I was on my way to a meeting with Admiral Chegwidden, I’d nearly made my way into the building when the sound of two people arguing caught my attention. If it had been anyone else’s voice I would have let it go, but this was Harm and he was arguing with a man I didn’t recognize. I still should have let it go and I started to, after all Harm had never welcomed my interference before. Before I turned away, though, I saw the other man shove Harm hard, sending him reeling backwards and catching his hip on the brick side of the building. It might have been amusing if he hadn’t hit his knees so hard on the pavement when he fell, but it was obvious from the way he dropped that he was in a lot of pain. By the time I got to him whoever had pushed him was gone and he was trying to stand up.
He looked up when he heard me say his name but I don’t know if he really registered my presence, he was trying to regain his usual composure but he was holding his right side near the small of his back. I must have said something sarcastic considering the glare he managed to shoot at me, but I wasn’t really listening to myself talk. It was all I could do to focus on not seeming too concerned as I watched him try and fail to straighten up. When he gave up trying to pretend he was fine I finally set down my briefcase and walked over to him, pushing his hand away from his back as gently as I dared as I assessed the damage he’d done to himself.
It wasn’t the first time I’d touched him, we’d been through more than one life threatening situation together and he’d always been a hands-on kind of guy. I learned a long time ago not to read anything into his version of casual touch, though, so I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and focused on the fact that he was still in pain. I still remember the sound of his voice when he asked me what I was doing, but I just said something along the lines of ‘shut up, Rabb’ and went back to work. It was obvious the fall had thrown his back out, all he needed was a slight readjustment. Anyone that had ever been to a chiropractor would be able to tell that. If it had been a friend of mine in pain I wouldn’t have thought twice about pushing his shirt up to get at the muscle better, but this was Harm and we were right outside JAG headquarters. So I settled for resting one hand on the small of his back, stifling a groan at the feeling of hard muscles through his uniform. With my other hand I pressed on his pulled muscle and a few seconds later he straightened up and looked over at me, eyes wide with shock that Clayton Webb had actually fixed his back injury.
It must have come as quite a surprise to him that I’d actually bothered to stop, let alone made him feel better in less than three minutes. I muttered something about having a doctor look at his back or at least put some ice on it and picked up my briefcase, but all through my meeting with the Admiral all I could think about was the way he felt under my hands. It started that very night, he called to thank me for fixing his back and I mentioned something about a massage therapist I knew. I left out the part about his being an ex of mine.
After that first phone call I assumed it was over, but a few evenings later the phone rang again and it was Harm. He sounded so endearingly shy for the first time since I’d known him, tripping over his words as he asked me if there was any way he could talk me into coming over and ‘doing that thing’ to his back again. I have to say I put up a fairly good show of being annoyed with him before I finally relented, but the truth was I could think of nothing I wanted more than to go over to Harm’s apartment and do whatever he wanted me to do.
I put up a fight the first time, but after that I never argued with him when he called me and told me his back was bothering him. We still treated each other with just as much disdain whenever we crossed paths during work hours, but there was something else there now. I guess you could call it an understanding, maybe the respect was just a little closer to the surface than it had been before we starting spending time together. We never talk about it, though, which makes it all seem that much more unreal.
My hands are still on his back but I realize that they’re just barely ghosting over his skin now. I wonder for a moment why he hasn’t complained yet - you’d think he’d just be grateful I showed up at all but that never stops him from complaining if he thinks I’m not focused enough on him. I smile at that thought and look down at his face, realizing for the first time that he’s fallen asleep. It’s the same way every time we’re here together, he stretches out on his bed and I rub the pain out of his back until he finally falls asleep. I always stay and watch him sleep for a little while, it’s selfish and probably a little dangerous but after he falls asleep I let my hands wander the length of his back instead of just focusing on his recurring pain.
I look back at his face and smile to myself as his eyelids flutter against his cheeks, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his cheek before I go. I take a deep breath and stand up, but before I go I lean over and press my lips to his back just between his shoulder blades. I learned after the first couple nights that he’s a heavy sleeper, I shouldn’t take advantage of it but it’s not the first time I’ve used someone’s weaknesses against them. Besides, it’s not hurting anybody, he doesn’t even know I do it and it’s the only token of affection I allow myself. Okay, maybe it’s hurting me but it wouldn’t be the first time for that either.
He sighs in his sleep and I straighten up again, looking around the room for my jacket so I can leave before he wakes up and finds me watching him. I let myself out of the apartment and lock the door behind me, part of me wishing I could stay with him just this once. I know Harm wouldn’t understand if he woke up and found me still in his apartment, though. We’ve never talked about the fact that I’m always gone when he wakes up but I know that’s what he expects. I don’t know why he wants this, why he keeps calling me. He could have any number of women lining up to do the same thing for him but he keeps coming back to me. Maybe he likes the control he has over me, maybe he knows more about what’s going on here than he lets on. I’m not going to ask, though, not as long as he keeps calling.
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Rabb/Webb
Rating: PG
Summary: Clay helps Harm.
“Unghh…don’t stop that,” he moans, his eyes still closed as he strains to shift a little further into my hands.
“Don’t stop what, Commander?” I ask as innocently as I can manage, keeping the smirk out of my voice even though I can’t stop it from turning up my lips. It doesn’t matter, though, he can’t see me. That’s part of the game, he keeps his eyes closed and that way he doesn’t have to think about whose hands are working the soreness out of his lower back. I never close my eyes, though -- he’s never, ever touched me in return so all I get from this is visual stimulation. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s enough, but the sight of Harmon Rabb, Jr. barely clothed and writhing under my touch is enough to fuel a lot of fantasies.
I never thought I’d have an opportunity to get my hands on Harm, much less in such an intimate way, but here we are and the amazing thing is that he called me and asked me to come over and do this for him. I’d prefer to do it in the comfort of my own apartment, he lives like a bachelor and I’ll never understand his Spartan tastes. Then again, these moments alone together are something removed from the rest of our lives, so maybe the setting is appropriate. I can’t help wondering if he’ll think of the feeling of my hands on his skin later, though. Once I’m gone and he’s alone in this same bed will he picture me sitting next to him, fully clothed while he stretches out next to me in nothing but a pair of jogging shorts?
“There…right there,” he breathes, and I feel my starched pants get a little tighter just from the sound of his voice. “God, that feels amazing. You should really be getting paid for this, Clay.”
That’s another thing…ever since this started he’s been calling me Clay instead of Webb like the rest of the JAG staff. Not that I’m complaining, mind you - I don’t have that much interaction with him in a work-related capacity anyway. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d have this kind of interaction with him, of course I was attracted to him from the start but I never thought it would get this far. Hell, I never thought I’d see the inside of his apartment, not that I can say that’s been a thrill but it’s closer to him than I ever planned to be.
I chuckle low in my throat and move my hands in the direction he seems to be enjoying most. “My real talents lie in other areas. I’m afraid this isn’t a talent I’ve spent much time cultivating.”
“Well the rest of the world’s loss is my…my…gain,” he stammers through gritted teeth as I hit a particularly sensitive spot on his spine. “There has to be something I can do to repay you for this.”
He says that every time I find myself here. I know it’s just idle talk that people say, but that doesn’t stop the images that assault my mind every time. I feel my fingers start to shake a little but I hold my breath and will myself to regain control before he notices the affect his words have on me.
“I look at it as an investment,” I answer when I find my voice again. “You’ve proved useful to me in the past, if you manage to damage yourself to the point where you’re incapacitated you won’t be any good to me at all.”
He laughs into the pillow and shifts his hips so my hands are a little lower on his back, just skirting the waistband of his running shorts. “There are other lawyers on the JAG staff, you know.”
I know I shouldn’t but I let my fingers trail off his back and dip across his hips just for a second before I pull them back and focus on the pulled muscle again. The air smells of the Flex-all he insists I rub into his back, it’s not the scent I would choose for a romantic liaison but then again it suits Harm. It does a little to distract me from the situation as well, but not enough to stop my imagination from wandering. It was purely by luck that Harm finally found a use for me outside of work, in fact if I’d been a few minutes earlier getting to JAG Headquarters the day it started I wouldn’t be here right now.
I was on my way to a meeting with Admiral Chegwidden, I’d nearly made my way into the building when the sound of two people arguing caught my attention. If it had been anyone else’s voice I would have let it go, but this was Harm and he was arguing with a man I didn’t recognize. I still should have let it go and I started to, after all Harm had never welcomed my interference before. Before I turned away, though, I saw the other man shove Harm hard, sending him reeling backwards and catching his hip on the brick side of the building. It might have been amusing if he hadn’t hit his knees so hard on the pavement when he fell, but it was obvious from the way he dropped that he was in a lot of pain. By the time I got to him whoever had pushed him was gone and he was trying to stand up.
He looked up when he heard me say his name but I don’t know if he really registered my presence, he was trying to regain his usual composure but he was holding his right side near the small of his back. I must have said something sarcastic considering the glare he managed to shoot at me, but I wasn’t really listening to myself talk. It was all I could do to focus on not seeming too concerned as I watched him try and fail to straighten up. When he gave up trying to pretend he was fine I finally set down my briefcase and walked over to him, pushing his hand away from his back as gently as I dared as I assessed the damage he’d done to himself.
It wasn’t the first time I’d touched him, we’d been through more than one life threatening situation together and he’d always been a hands-on kind of guy. I learned a long time ago not to read anything into his version of casual touch, though, so I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and focused on the fact that he was still in pain. I still remember the sound of his voice when he asked me what I was doing, but I just said something along the lines of ‘shut up, Rabb’ and went back to work. It was obvious the fall had thrown his back out, all he needed was a slight readjustment. Anyone that had ever been to a chiropractor would be able to tell that. If it had been a friend of mine in pain I wouldn’t have thought twice about pushing his shirt up to get at the muscle better, but this was Harm and we were right outside JAG headquarters. So I settled for resting one hand on the small of his back, stifling a groan at the feeling of hard muscles through his uniform. With my other hand I pressed on his pulled muscle and a few seconds later he straightened up and looked over at me, eyes wide with shock that Clayton Webb had actually fixed his back injury.
It must have come as quite a surprise to him that I’d actually bothered to stop, let alone made him feel better in less than three minutes. I muttered something about having a doctor look at his back or at least put some ice on it and picked up my briefcase, but all through my meeting with the Admiral all I could think about was the way he felt under my hands. It started that very night, he called to thank me for fixing his back and I mentioned something about a massage therapist I knew. I left out the part about his being an ex of mine.
After that first phone call I assumed it was over, but a few evenings later the phone rang again and it was Harm. He sounded so endearingly shy for the first time since I’d known him, tripping over his words as he asked me if there was any way he could talk me into coming over and ‘doing that thing’ to his back again. I have to say I put up a fairly good show of being annoyed with him before I finally relented, but the truth was I could think of nothing I wanted more than to go over to Harm’s apartment and do whatever he wanted me to do.
I put up a fight the first time, but after that I never argued with him when he called me and told me his back was bothering him. We still treated each other with just as much disdain whenever we crossed paths during work hours, but there was something else there now. I guess you could call it an understanding, maybe the respect was just a little closer to the surface than it had been before we starting spending time together. We never talk about it, though, which makes it all seem that much more unreal.
My hands are still on his back but I realize that they’re just barely ghosting over his skin now. I wonder for a moment why he hasn’t complained yet - you’d think he’d just be grateful I showed up at all but that never stops him from complaining if he thinks I’m not focused enough on him. I smile at that thought and look down at his face, realizing for the first time that he’s fallen asleep. It’s the same way every time we’re here together, he stretches out on his bed and I rub the pain out of his back until he finally falls asleep. I always stay and watch him sleep for a little while, it’s selfish and probably a little dangerous but after he falls asleep I let my hands wander the length of his back instead of just focusing on his recurring pain.
I look back at his face and smile to myself as his eyelids flutter against his cheeks, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his cheek before I go. I take a deep breath and stand up, but before I go I lean over and press my lips to his back just between his shoulder blades. I learned after the first couple nights that he’s a heavy sleeper, I shouldn’t take advantage of it but it’s not the first time I’ve used someone’s weaknesses against them. Besides, it’s not hurting anybody, he doesn’t even know I do it and it’s the only token of affection I allow myself. Okay, maybe it’s hurting me but it wouldn’t be the first time for that either.
He sighs in his sleep and I straighten up again, looking around the room for my jacket so I can leave before he wakes up and finds me watching him. I let myself out of the apartment and lock the door behind me, part of me wishing I could stay with him just this once. I know Harm wouldn’t understand if he woke up and found me still in his apartment, though. We’ve never talked about the fact that I’m always gone when he wakes up but I know that’s what he expects. I don’t know why he wants this, why he keeps calling me. He could have any number of women lining up to do the same thing for him but he keeps coming back to me. Maybe he likes the control he has over me, maybe he knows more about what’s going on here than he lets on. I’m not going to ask, though, not as long as he keeps calling.