Five Acts
I foolishly signed up to do toestastegood's Five Acts comment fic fun. She's going to do a master list once everyone's getting underway, so I'll link you there in case you're interested in more than my post
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firefly, mal/simon; 614; r
Crew ain't stupid, that's for sure. There's things they know, and things they know but know better'n to say out loud.
For example, they know that Mal's been in love with one Inara Serra for longer than counting's worth. And they know that when the captain gets in one of his moods it's best to stay out of the way and keep your mouth shut, if you have a care for what's good for you. What they may not know is that when he hollers at Simon to get that gorram equipment out of his cargo bay and stocked in the infirmary, lest he want it floating in the black, what he's really doing is releasing some of that pent-up sexual tension he's usually so apt to hold onto.
And Simon, bright as he is, hasn't quite figured that out yet either, despite the vivid memory of Mal's hot tongue driving him to orgasm two nights prior.
"Captain Reynolds," Simon fumes following him down the causeway, "If you don't mind. I'm still taking inventory."
"Well take it on your own time, Doctor Tam!" Mal grabs Simon by the collar and shoves him into one of the empty rooms and against a wall. His voice is softer now, rough. "Crew's in the galley, little sister's sleeping, and we haven't but a few minutes."
"Oh," Simon says after a beat, the feel of Mal's cock pressed hard against his ass telling him everything he needs to know.
Mal can tell it takes Simon a minute for that doctor brain of his to switch gears, but when Mal slides his hand across Simon's belly, fingers teasing at exposed skin and dipping below his trousers, Simon's approving grunts prove that the body's already taken over.
It only takes a few seconds for Mal to free himself from his pants, Simon too. They somehow find their way to the low bed and Mal spits into his hand, coats himself with slick saliva.
"I've got," Simon gasps, "in the infirmary."
"No time, doc." Mal growls, his hands sliding down Simon's sides, stopping at his ass, his tongue finding its way between Simon's cheeks. Simon arches with the sensation, his dick growing harder than before. Mal takes his time to prepare him, first with his tongue, then a finger or two, before he slides his chest across Simon's back, kissing the sweaty freckled skin as he shoves inside.
Simon bites back a scream, braces himself to give Mal enough leverage, swears he can hear someone coming down the hall. Mal closes his teeth over Simon's shoulder, nipping as he reaches around to fist Simon in his hand.
"Just," Simon breathes, "hurry, fuck."
Mal grins, slows. "Patience, Doctor," he teases.
Simon keens, an almost whine, and Mal gives him what he wants. When they come, Simon isn't exactly the picture of quiet, and neither is Mal, but the truth is that neither of them care enough to notice.
"Now when were you planning to get that gou shi outta my cargo bay?"
"Shut up," Simon laughs.
--
Up in the kitchen, the rest of the crew sits at the table polishing off their meal, when River saunters in, whisp-like as she tends to do, circling around a bit before finding a seat.
"So much flesh," she muses. "Miles and miles and.... miles." Shephard Book reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to the room.
She giggles, flashes a grin at Inara.
"Aw, hell," Jayne grumbles.
Kaylee, laughs openly and Wash and Zoe exchange knowing looks.
Crew ain't stupid, that's for sure. There's things they know, and things they know but know better'n to say out loud.
-fin
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First of all hoooooot wow hot
Second of all, I love that you seem to just slip into these different voices when you write. Your wording and tone, it just feels like this show. It's wonderful.
<3
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