Velvet Glove
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
Crossover between JAG and Velvet Goldmine
Clark Palmer/Curt Wild
Rating: adult
Clark Palmer has a talk with Curt Wild.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't have enough money to buy them and then take care of them in the style to which they're accustomed. Todd Haynes and Miramax own the rights to Curt Wild, and Belisarius Productions and CBS own the rights to Clark Palmer.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warnings: Use of cuffs. Coercion. Mind games. Well, people, this *is* Clark Palmer...
Spoiler: for Velvet Goldmine, since I give the ending away. :-) Nothing for JAG. This takes place before the show. I do love writing Clark before he ran into idiot Rabb. :-)
This is for Alex, one of the high priestesses of the First Church of Ewan. :-) She got me to watch Velvet Goldmine (and let me tell you, it's not easy to talk me into taking time away from Palmer and Webb and writing), then cheered me on to write her dear Curt Wild (played by Ewan McGregor *swoon*). With my dear Palmer, from whom most people run screaming. *g* Wonderful person. Read her slash, and don't give me any grief about 'oh, I don't know the fandoms.' Trust me, you don't need to know anything. She'll tell you what you need to know. :-)
Alex and Elizabeth beta'd this for me. I'm so lucky. :-) Then kimberlite beta'd after posting and pointed out a few glaring errors most kindly.
This is Palmer's fault, because he said, "Yeah, I can make him behave. No problem." But then he says that about everybody, up to and including Webb. Don't know what I'm going to do with him. *g* Maybe just give him what he wants. It's worked this far.
*****
Nice to know that the DSD thinks highly enough of me to send me off to keep this rock star in line. Why the hell can't these people understand that some things have to be kept quiet? But then he's a musician, and they don't get much. Brain's fried from all the drugs. No surprise. Doesn't matter.
My supervisor told me to use any means necessary, and he smiled when he said it, which told me why I got sent. I read all about Curt and his precious Brian, and I know what to do to get him to keep quiet: give him what he's been missing. I can do that.
I nod at the FBI agents, then at the DSD one. "Tell him to get in here, then leave us alone for a while." They give me a surprised look, all except the DSD agent, who grins at me. Yeah, he gets it, but then he's not trained as well as I am. He wouldn't be good enough to fuck this Curt.
In a minute Curt Wild walks in. Hmm. Not bad. Too thin, but that's all right. Not too old, nice face, and a good smile when he uses it, I'd bet. Wonder if he'll try it on me. That could be fun.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wild." Start out slow, don't let him know what game we're playing. He'll learn soon enough.
He sneers at me. "Another secret agent type? I said I wouldn't make any trouble. Not my fault that reporter called me."
I smile at him and come closer, close enough to touch him if I want. And I will want. "Of course it's not your fault. Anyone said it was, they're an idiot. I'm not here to talk to you about that." Talking isn't the main reason I'm here, but I'm sure we'll talk. Words can be just as useful as touches.
He stares at me, surprised. Good. I like getting people off their guard. "So what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to make sure you're happy, Mr. Wild. Are you?"
He's still staring at me. He can tell something's going on, but he doesn't know what it is. That's all right. I like being the only one who knows what's going on.
"Mr. Wild?" I push. "Anything at all you need?"
"No. Nothing."
"I think you do need something." I've got my velvet glove voice on now, and I can see his face change as he registers it. "Why not tell me?"
"Get out."
"You don't want that." I get my hands on his arms and jerk them behind him, then fasten the cuffs. He struggles, but he's no match for me. I lick my lips and watch his face stiffen. "No, Curt, you don't want that at all."
He opens his mouth, then shuts it and glares.
"Smart. You know no one's going to help you but me, don't you?"
"What. Do. You. Want?"
"This isn't about what *I* want. This is about what you need. You need to be fucked." No need to pretty it up for Curt. He's been taking it for a long time. "I'm here to do it."
"I don't want you."
"No, you want Brian, but he's not available. You'll have to settle for me." I lick my lips again and raise my hand to his chest. He tries to pull away, but I push him against the wall. He winces as his wrists hit the wall. Has to hurt. His problem. "You like it rough? I can do it rough."
I can do it any way at all. My hand is still on his chest, and I get it up to play with his nipple. It's already hard.
"You didn't answer, Curt." I push harder against him, making sure he can feel my erection.
He makes a choking sound and tries to push back. He's trying to get his wrists free, but he's pushing into me like he wants to fuck. He doesn't yet, but he will.
"Answer, and we can get away from this wall, maybe," I murmur into his ear, then lick it.
"I don't like it rough," he gets out.
"Then I won't do it rough." Of course, our definitions might vary. I'll do what I want with pretty Curt, and he'll like it. I always make them like it. That's why I'm here.
I take his earlobe into my mouth and suck on it, and he arches against me. Then I let go.
"You're going to beg me to fuck you, Curt." He makes another choking sound, and I laugh. "You don't want to beg?" Of course he doesn't, but I don't give a shit about that.
He doesn't answer, just twists his head away. So cute. Like that'll stop me.
I pull him away from the wall and out of the room, then down the hall. There's a room with a bed here somewhere... yeah, there it is. Small, but we won't need much room. I get us inside, push him over to it, and shut the door. I know no one will disturb us here. He staggers, but doesn't fall. So I put my hand on his back and shove him down across the bed, with a push to the back of his knees to help. Oh, nice view. Good ass, firm and curved like I like them. I'm going to enjoy fucking that.
"Stay put, Curt."
"You can't make me." He's got his head to the side, so I can hear him. That's going to put a strain on him. Maybe I'll get him into a position that's easier for him, but he'll have to earn that.
I laugh. "Sure I can." I keep one hand on his back and work the other around to his crotch. He shivers as I mold my fingers around him. "You're hard, Curt. I told you, you want this." I squeeze.
He doesn't answer this time, and I laugh again. He's just as easy as anyone else I've had.
I let go of his cock and pull him to his feet, holding his wrists with one hand while I undo his jeans with the other. When I've got them down around his black boots, I push him back down on the bed, on his side this time, and unlace and pull off the boots, then get the jeans the rest of the way off, rip open his worn t-shirt to show his chest, and lie on the bed facing him. His cock is really hard, and when I get my hand around it, it's hot and velvety and throbbing. I lick my lips. Maybe this is what Brian saw in troublesome Curt along with the music thing. But I'm not going to get fucked; I'm going to fuck.
He's staring at me, wide eyes with some fear in them, but more lust. I smile and run my thumb over the head of his cock, getting a moan out of him. So easy.
"Want it, Curt?" I slide my hand up and down his cock and put my other hand on his neck, in case he gets any stupid ideas. I don't like when that happens. He'll probably think it's a caress. Fine with me.
He moans again, and I work him harder. I want to get him close to coming. That'll get him to beg.
He's thrusting into my hand and moaning and panting between moans when I stop, squeeze the base of his cock, and wait. He groans and squirms, trying to get me to start again. Nice, but it's not what I want. I told him what I want. Time for him to remember.
His eyes open after a minute and stare. Pretty eyes, glazed and desperate. But no clue about why I stopped.
"Beg, Curt." I take my hand off his neck and run my fingernail up his shaft, still grabbing his cock at the base. He really squirms at that, those nipples hard and standing away from his chest. If he's good, I'll suck on them. But he's not being good enough yet.
"Beg me for it."
He's panting. "More," he gets out.
Like that's begging. I don't do anything but watch him. He's not getting anything for that.
He blinks. "Don't even know your name."
I take one hard nipple in my fingers and twist it. That gets him squirming even more. "You don't need my name. I told you what to do. Do it."
I keep working his nipple while I wait, and he can't keep still. It's so much fun to play with him. I hope he's as good to fuck as he is to play with. He'd better hope he is, or I'll go back to DC and report that he needs to be watched more closely. Mr. Wild won't enjoy that.
He groans. "Please fuck me."
The desperation from his eyes is in his voice now, and I like hearing it. I'm hard from playing with him, from knowing he's all mine, to do with as I please. No one will interfere with this game. No one will stop me from fucking Curt Wild as hard and as long as I want to.
"That's better." I reward him with a few pulls on his cock, and he shudders and pumps his hips and moans. "Yeah, I'll fuck you, Curt."
He closes his eyes, and I know he's wishing I were his precious Brian. How nice to him do I want to be? I could fuck him in silence and let him believe that. I could even take off the cuffs. That would make it easier for him. Fuck that. He gets what he gets. I like how he looks in cuffs, all desperate and helpless. I might keep quiet and let him have his fantasy later, but we've got logistics to work on here.
I let go of his cock and reach behind him to get his wrists. He's still got his eyes closed and his hips thrusting, but I keep my eye on him anyway. I undo one cuff, twist up the free arm, then yank him up and get his hands cuffed together in front before he can do anything. The t-shirt ends up off, too.
He opens his eyes and licks his lips. Nice lips. Wish I could trust him enough to make him suck my cock. But I don't take stupid chances.
"Hands and knees, Curt. So I can fuck you."
I don't wait for him to obey me. I turn him over, push him into the right position, let my hands get all over that lean body. He's no threat to me now. He wants it too much.
He's shuddering when I let go of him. Time for me to get ready. I take off my jacket and put it over the head of the bed, then reach into my pocket and get out the tube of lubricant I brought and a condom. I tear open the condom packet and put it on Curt's back, then let my fingers trail down his spine, and he moans.
"Please. Please."
His eyes are still screwed tight, so I know there's a good chance he's not talking to me, but to that Brian in his head. He doesn't get that yet.
"That's good, baby. Beg me some more."
"Bastard," he whispers, and I laugh.
I open the tube and squeeze some on my fingers. "No, I'm a nice guy who's giving you what you want."
He gives me one fierce glare, but doesn't say anything, and I laugh again. Good boy. I like broken, but I like a little fight, too. I work the cool gel on him, then in him, taking my time, making sure he's hot enough again. When he moans and spreads his legs wider, I know he's getting there, and I push my fingers into him, one quick jab that gets a sharp cry from him. I ignore it and feel for his prostate, then thrust into it and get a good loud moan. I could get him off this way, but what would be the point of that? No, Curt's going to come with my cock in him.
I take out my fingers and wipe them on the bed, then undo my pants and get my cock out, then take the packet off Curt's back and roll the condom on my cock. His eyes are closed again, and he's shuddering, legs spread good and wide, hands cuffed together. I put some more lube on the condom, then get behind him, aim, then push into him in one long stroke. He's tight, but that's his problem and my pleasure. He doesn't groan this time, just makes this small broken noise that goes right to my cock, then shudders, puts his head down to the bed, and god, looks even sexier. I grin and start pumping. The sweat on his back shines in the light coming in through the one high window as I fuck him and he keeps making the broken sounds.
Maybe he's thinking I'm Brian right now, but in his heart he knows I'm not. He knows he's taking it from a guy he doesn't even know, and loving that he's taking it. He'll be dreaming of me some nights. I like that thought.
I feel my balls pull up to my body and know I'm going to come soon, and reach around to take Curt's cock in my hand and get him off, too. He goes back to a moan when I touch him and thrusts into my grip. I fuck him as I jerk him off, and he begs me for it with those desperate, hungry sounds of his.
When he comes, I don't even give him a minute before I thrust harder than ever into him and let myself go. He takes it, like he has a choice. Then I pull out and push him on his side. He lies there, shuddering, come on his belly and chest, cuffed hands pulled into his body.
I take off the condom, tie it, toss it in the trash, wipe my hands off on the bed, do up my pants, and watch him. Mine. All mine. Only for now, but it's real enough for me.
He finally opens his eyes, and I smile at him. Time to wrap this up. "Now be a good boy, or I'll come back." I laugh softly. "Of course, if you want me back, that could be arranged. Just tell your friends you want Clark." I reach down to stroke his face, and he bites his lower lip, but lets me. "Next time, if you're good, we won't have to use the cuffs."
"I could get you in trouble for this." Fighting again, but it won't do him any good.
"Your word against mine, Curt, and I don't think your word will mean much." He blinks, and I see he's gotten the message, but I make sure it's clear. "Don't fuck with a good thing. You're here, you're safe, you're free to do what you want, as long as you don't fuck with Tommy Stone. He's earned his new life. You just make sure you enjoy yours."
"The concert," he starts, and I wait. "I was going to the concert."
"Fine. As long as you don't try anything stupid. We will be watching you."
He nods, and I take his arm and get him on his feet, undo the cuffs so he can get his jeans and boots back on. He doesn't look at me the whole time, and I smile to myself. He's broken, at least for a while. I knew I could do it.
When we get back to the first room, the other agents are there, looking nervous, so I just give Curt one more smile, have a quick word with the agent who looks to be in charge, telling him Curt's fine to go to the damned concert, then leave.
Just another job, but a sweet one.
The End
Posted 10/22/01
