Firefly fic! Wes, Angel, Mal.
A/N: Floundering along a bit here. Why, oh, why do I do this to myself? :) Note to self: Don't write threesomes, foursomes, or pairings that involve people who don't all get along already.
Shifts
Wesley had avoided the rest of the crew after the engine room fire.
And they let him.
He wasn’t sure which was more frustrating. That Simon had overreacted so badly (He wasn’t really overreacting, was he?) or that no one seemed to notice his absence. Or they were simply taking advantage of it.
Not even Jayne had bothered him. Lately between basketball in the cargo bay, teasing Kaylee, and polishing Vera, he had taken to stopping by and quizzing Wes on the Earth-that-was. He could easily have gotten more information out of Angel, but he seemed to take to Wes, and there was also the matter of he and Angel practically ripping each other’s throats out when things weren’t on a perfectly even keel. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was sexual tension, but really they were both just too big, dumb, and protective to be able to get along with each other.
So Wesley knew things must be strained for even Jayne to leave him alone.
And Simon...
His head hurt when he thought about Simon. And now he had limited means of easing the ache without actually coming in contact with Simon and making the pounding hit him like a jack-hammer.
It had been such a harmless moment. He honestly had no idea how things had gotten so far out of hand. So many over-lapping feelings between all - yes, there were definitely four wrapped in this blanket of strange solace seekers - of them. He didn’t like thinking about it, but Mal was in this too. There was no way Angel would let Mal go... even after Wesley had seen that look on his face, that look that was only for him.
Angel’s face had been so earnest. A proverbial thousand years of longing boiled down to the way his irises opened and closed, and the way the muscles in his face tensed or relaxed. Wesley had to be analytical about. Otherwise he was going to stay in his bunk until the stink forced someone to come in. If he didn’t, he would fall back into that abyss of reverence and loyalty that was Angel. And he would forget about Simon. He would fall into those solid arms, that wide chest, and drown in those lonely, brown eyes. And he couldn’t do that. Angel had made the game, and he had never started it. It was his choice. He had let Wes feel what he felt and had ignored it time after time. No, Wesley would not be doing this. How ever many times his pulse fluttered, or his breathing increased, he was not going under again. He’d had Simon, and he shouldn’t have been so weak as to let him go.
- - -
Angel watched Mal leave, stupid smile still plastered to his face. What was he doing? Was he even thinking at all?
He flopped back down on the couch, all the energy rushing away from his body. He felt heavy. Like the gravity control was on too high. He just sent Mal back to Simon. Away from him. Did he really never learn, was he just destined to throw everything away? He wasn’t a champion anymore, his time had past. He didn’t have to sacrifice everything just because he thought he couldn’t have it. So why the hell was he pushing Mal at Simon, and messing things up with Wesley? It didn’t make since, in any ‘verse.
Angel rubbed his hands along his thighs, silently questioning his body to see if it had any answers. And the only one he came up with was Wes.
Wes.
Every muscle felt him, remembered his breathing, and memorized the pain in his face. Mal wasn’t nothing. Mal made him forget, made him relax, made him feel like he was still worth something now that his world was the past. But maybe it was time to stop forgetting. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t keep Mal to himself. He didn’t want to hurt Mal. If sending him to someone who wouldn’t meant things were over with them, then he would deal with that risk. He may not have to fight evil day in and day out, but he still never backed down from a challenge, whether it was silent or otherwise.
He needed to talk to Wes.
- - -
Mal didn’t really see what Angel was fussing about, he thought as he made his way back to Simon and his bunk. The gorram vampire had already made up his mind, he just didn’t know it. And Mal wasn’t waiting around for the light bulb to light up. Simon was... Simon had been there in the back of his mind since day one. That haughty tone, and that deep down courage were hard to ignore.
Angel was different, sure, but they were kin. They were both captains and took responsibility, so with Angel he didn’t have to be anybody, just Mal and Angel would understand. Simon though, he didn’t want to let go of. Angel would be fine if he let go, but Simon would drift. The boy was strong, brave, all that. But he didn’t have all the hope beat out of him yet. And Mal wasn’t going to watch that slide away because some cryo boy let him down. He shouldn’t have to be so gorram alone. He wasn’t made that way. If Wes wasn’t gonna take his Angel issues to Angel, then Mal was not going to sit and watch Simon get tore up by it.
He didn’t want to hurt Angel, hell, he- No, he didn’t, but he did need the big galoot. Since they’d come on board, he hadn’t felt so real. So he had no desire to hurt Angel. But he couldn’t watch Angel turn his back either. Making his move was strategic if not... Well, if not something he wasn’t ready to admit to. Angel would be fine. Angel would be just fine, Mal thought to himself as he lifted the hatch to his bunk and slid down the ladder.
Only to find Simon gone.
ETA: Okay, now that we've gotten over that hump, I've started two new parts. *facepalms* I actually did want to finish this eventually.
Shifts
Wesley had avoided the rest of the crew after the engine room fire.
And they let him.
He wasn’t sure which was more frustrating. That Simon had overreacted so badly (He wasn’t really overreacting, was he?) or that no one seemed to notice his absence. Or they were simply taking advantage of it.
Not even Jayne had bothered him. Lately between basketball in the cargo bay, teasing Kaylee, and polishing Vera, he had taken to stopping by and quizzing Wes on the Earth-that-was. He could easily have gotten more information out of Angel, but he seemed to take to Wes, and there was also the matter of he and Angel practically ripping each other’s throats out when things weren’t on a perfectly even keel. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was sexual tension, but really they were both just too big, dumb, and protective to be able to get along with each other.
So Wesley knew things must be strained for even Jayne to leave him alone.
And Simon...
His head hurt when he thought about Simon. And now he had limited means of easing the ache without actually coming in contact with Simon and making the pounding hit him like a jack-hammer.
It had been such a harmless moment. He honestly had no idea how things had gotten so far out of hand. So many over-lapping feelings between all - yes, there were definitely four wrapped in this blanket of strange solace seekers - of them. He didn’t like thinking about it, but Mal was in this too. There was no way Angel would let Mal go... even after Wesley had seen that look on his face, that look that was only for him.
Angel’s face had been so earnest. A proverbial thousand years of longing boiled down to the way his irises opened and closed, and the way the muscles in his face tensed or relaxed. Wesley had to be analytical about. Otherwise he was going to stay in his bunk until the stink forced someone to come in. If he didn’t, he would fall back into that abyss of reverence and loyalty that was Angel. And he would forget about Simon. He would fall into those solid arms, that wide chest, and drown in those lonely, brown eyes. And he couldn’t do that. Angel had made the game, and he had never started it. It was his choice. He had let Wes feel what he felt and had ignored it time after time. No, Wesley would not be doing this. How ever many times his pulse fluttered, or his breathing increased, he was not going under again. He’d had Simon, and he shouldn’t have been so weak as to let him go.
- - -
Angel watched Mal leave, stupid smile still plastered to his face. What was he doing? Was he even thinking at all?
He flopped back down on the couch, all the energy rushing away from his body. He felt heavy. Like the gravity control was on too high. He just sent Mal back to Simon. Away from him. Did he really never learn, was he just destined to throw everything away? He wasn’t a champion anymore, his time had past. He didn’t have to sacrifice everything just because he thought he couldn’t have it. So why the hell was he pushing Mal at Simon, and messing things up with Wesley? It didn’t make since, in any ‘verse.
Angel rubbed his hands along his thighs, silently questioning his body to see if it had any answers. And the only one he came up with was Wes.
Wes.
Every muscle felt him, remembered his breathing, and memorized the pain in his face. Mal wasn’t nothing. Mal made him forget, made him relax, made him feel like he was still worth something now that his world was the past. But maybe it was time to stop forgetting. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t keep Mal to himself. He didn’t want to hurt Mal. If sending him to someone who wouldn’t meant things were over with them, then he would deal with that risk. He may not have to fight evil day in and day out, but he still never backed down from a challenge, whether it was silent or otherwise.
He needed to talk to Wes.
- - -
Mal didn’t really see what Angel was fussing about, he thought as he made his way back to Simon and his bunk. The gorram vampire had already made up his mind, he just didn’t know it. And Mal wasn’t waiting around for the light bulb to light up. Simon was... Simon had been there in the back of his mind since day one. That haughty tone, and that deep down courage were hard to ignore.
Angel was different, sure, but they were kin. They were both captains and took responsibility, so with Angel he didn’t have to be anybody, just Mal and Angel would understand. Simon though, he didn’t want to let go of. Angel would be fine if he let go, but Simon would drift. The boy was strong, brave, all that. But he didn’t have all the hope beat out of him yet. And Mal wasn’t going to watch that slide away because some cryo boy let him down. He shouldn’t have to be so gorram alone. He wasn’t made that way. If Wes wasn’t gonna take his Angel issues to Angel, then Mal was not going to sit and watch Simon get tore up by it.
He didn’t want to hurt Angel, hell, he- No, he didn’t, but he did need the big galoot. Since they’d come on board, he hadn’t felt so real. So he had no desire to hurt Angel. But he couldn’t watch Angel turn his back either. Making his move was strategic if not... Well, if not something he wasn’t ready to admit to. Angel would be fine. Angel would be just fine, Mal thought to himself as he lifted the hatch to his bunk and slid down the ladder.
Only to find Simon gone.
ETA: Okay, now that we've gotten over that hump, I've started two new parts. *facepalms* I actually did want to finish this eventually.