Fic: True Shape, Jayne/Mal
Title: True Shape
Author: wesleysgirl
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Jayne/Mal
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Summary: After "Ariel," Jayne wants to make it up to Mal.
Word Count: 985
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, more's the pity. The words, however, belong to me.
Notes: Replacement fic for the Jayne round. For devils_fantasy, who requested Jayne with Mal, and "salt, sugar, snark." Many thanks to janedavitt for the beta and advice, and to mireille719 for the hand-holding.
True Shape
Jayne's not sure how to deal with it, after Ariel. How to deal with Mal, that is.
He knows an apology don't mean much, not from him or from anyone. It ain't sayin' sorry that changes nothin' -- it's changing that says sorry; the whole thing makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. And it don't matter, since he ain't smart enough to do either one.
He tries anyway.
"You want a hand movin' those crates?" he asks one day, and Mal gives him a look like maybe he's been spending too much time in the sun.
Next day he brings Mal a cup of water when they're all at the supper table, setting it at his elbow without saying nothing, but Mal just picks it up like it was there all along and doesn't seem to suspect Jayne had anything to do with its appearance.
Big waste of effort that was, what with him not gettin' any credit.
The day after that he sulks and avoids Mal, but Mal don't seem to notice.
Finally, because Jayne doesn't know what else to do, he follows Mal to his quarters one night and, when Mal stops and turns and looks at him, waiting, stammers out, "I'm sorry, okay?"
Mal blinks like it's the last thing he ever expected to hear. "You're what?"
"Oh, come on, Mal." Jayne shoves his thumb between the waistband of his pants and his skin. "Don't make me say it again. I don't know that I can."
"I heard what you said," Mal tells him. "Still trying to figure out what you're talking about is all. You do something stupid I haven't heard about yet?"
Jayne shakes his head, wishin' he'd never even tried to start a conversation he's got no chance of finishing. "No. I meant -- with that job. The one on Ariel."
Mal's face darkens. If it weren't so poetical, Jayne'd think it's like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. Can't say he likes it none.
He never woulda figured anyone'd have the kind of power over him so's that it would make him care what they think of him.
"I seem to remember you apologizing for that before." Mal's standing there all stiff and captain-like. "Half a dozen times, I'd say. 'Course, you were thinking you only had a couple of minutes to live, and we both know from experience that a man'll say all sorts of things when he's afraid for his life."
"Yeah, well, I ain't worrying about that now," Jayne says, then stops. "Uh... I don't need to be worrying about that, do I?"
Mal snorts. "Makes me wonder why you're apologizing, if it's not because someone's got a gun to your head."
Wishing doubly hard he'd never started this in the first place, Jayne struggles for words to explain. "It's because... because I don't like the way things've been. Between us. I was thinkin' -- and I know it's not as simple as sayin' the words -- well, I was thinkin' maybe there was something I could do. To get things back to the way they were."
For a long time, Mal just looks at him. It's hard to know what's going on inside his head -- not that Jayne ever really does -- but finally he nods. "You got some ideas?"
That'd require him having more than a few brain cells to rub together; Jayne's stupid, but he ain't so stupid that he doesn't know he's stupid. "Hadn't really thought that far ahead," he admits.
Mal smiles, and there might be a hint of affection in it. Seeing it makes Jayne feel warmed; looks like the sun's out again. Mal grabs onto the front of his shirt and gives a little tug until Jayne steps forward, his front bumping up against Mal's and his body responding to the touch like it always does, even if it's been a while since they went to bed together. "Could be I can think of something," Mal says, so close Jayne can feel his breath.
"You mean a way I can convince you I ain't gonna do nothin' like that again?" Jayne asks.
"That, too," Mal says. "Because if you do -- "
"I won't," Jayne says, fast as anything. "I swear it."
"Good." Mal lets go, turns, and opens the door to his quarters. A second or two later, from inside, he calls, "You comin'?"
That don't even require an answer; Jayne follows him in and pushes him up against the wall, mouthing at his neck the way he knows Mal likes. Mal's skin tastes like salt, but his mouth, when he kisses Jayne, is sugar-sweet. "Been missin' this," Jayne growls when Mal's hand finds his cock.
"Enough to do whatever I want?" Mal asks.
Jayne nods. Lets Mal turn him around, shove his pants down around his knees and take him like that, from behind, hard hands on his hips and hard cock forcing its way into him. He grunts, forearm braced against the wall and muffling the sounds he makes when Mal comes, the throbbing of the cock inside sending sharp little pains skittering through him. When Mal finds Jayne's flesh, heavy and hot between his legs, and strokes it a couple times, Jayne comes, too, his body tense and then relieved.
They lie on the bunk. There ain't room for them to lie side by side on their backs, so Jayne half curls around Mal, teeth worrying at his shoulder.
"Don't you go leaving any marks," Mal warns him.
"Won't," Jayne says gruffly. He waits for Mal to say something else -- to tell him that if he ever does anything like he did on Ariel again he won't hesitate to kill him -- but Mal just lies there, breathing, like he usually does. Like nothing's changed, only Jayne's pretty sure something has.
He just wishes he could figure out what it was.
End.
How I wish I could surrender my soul;
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
How I wish I'd chosen darkness from cold.
How I wish I had screamed out loud,
Instead I've found no meaning.
I guess it's time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say, but I'm not here for trouble.
It's more than just words: it's just tears and rain.
- James Blunt
Author: wesleysgirl
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Jayne/Mal
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Summary: After "Ariel," Jayne wants to make it up to Mal.
Word Count: 985
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, more's the pity. The words, however, belong to me.
Notes: Replacement fic for the Jayne round. For devils_fantasy, who requested Jayne with Mal, and "salt, sugar, snark." Many thanks to janedavitt for the beta and advice, and to mireille719 for the hand-holding.
True Shape
Jayne's not sure how to deal with it, after Ariel. How to deal with Mal, that is.
He knows an apology don't mean much, not from him or from anyone. It ain't sayin' sorry that changes nothin' -- it's changing that says sorry; the whole thing makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. And it don't matter, since he ain't smart enough to do either one.
He tries anyway.
"You want a hand movin' those crates?" he asks one day, and Mal gives him a look like maybe he's been spending too much time in the sun.
Next day he brings Mal a cup of water when they're all at the supper table, setting it at his elbow without saying nothing, but Mal just picks it up like it was there all along and doesn't seem to suspect Jayne had anything to do with its appearance.
Big waste of effort that was, what with him not gettin' any credit.
The day after that he sulks and avoids Mal, but Mal don't seem to notice.
Finally, because Jayne doesn't know what else to do, he follows Mal to his quarters one night and, when Mal stops and turns and looks at him, waiting, stammers out, "I'm sorry, okay?"
Mal blinks like it's the last thing he ever expected to hear. "You're what?"
"Oh, come on, Mal." Jayne shoves his thumb between the waistband of his pants and his skin. "Don't make me say it again. I don't know that I can."
"I heard what you said," Mal tells him. "Still trying to figure out what you're talking about is all. You do something stupid I haven't heard about yet?"
Jayne shakes his head, wishin' he'd never even tried to start a conversation he's got no chance of finishing. "No. I meant -- with that job. The one on Ariel."
Mal's face darkens. If it weren't so poetical, Jayne'd think it's like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. Can't say he likes it none.
He never woulda figured anyone'd have the kind of power over him so's that it would make him care what they think of him.
"I seem to remember you apologizing for that before." Mal's standing there all stiff and captain-like. "Half a dozen times, I'd say. 'Course, you were thinking you only had a couple of minutes to live, and we both know from experience that a man'll say all sorts of things when he's afraid for his life."
"Yeah, well, I ain't worrying about that now," Jayne says, then stops. "Uh... I don't need to be worrying about that, do I?"
Mal snorts. "Makes me wonder why you're apologizing, if it's not because someone's got a gun to your head."
Wishing doubly hard he'd never started this in the first place, Jayne struggles for words to explain. "It's because... because I don't like the way things've been. Between us. I was thinkin' -- and I know it's not as simple as sayin' the words -- well, I was thinkin' maybe there was something I could do. To get things back to the way they were."
For a long time, Mal just looks at him. It's hard to know what's going on inside his head -- not that Jayne ever really does -- but finally he nods. "You got some ideas?"
That'd require him having more than a few brain cells to rub together; Jayne's stupid, but he ain't so stupid that he doesn't know he's stupid. "Hadn't really thought that far ahead," he admits.
Mal smiles, and there might be a hint of affection in it. Seeing it makes Jayne feel warmed; looks like the sun's out again. Mal grabs onto the front of his shirt and gives a little tug until Jayne steps forward, his front bumping up against Mal's and his body responding to the touch like it always does, even if it's been a while since they went to bed together. "Could be I can think of something," Mal says, so close Jayne can feel his breath.
"You mean a way I can convince you I ain't gonna do nothin' like that again?" Jayne asks.
"That, too," Mal says. "Because if you do -- "
"I won't," Jayne says, fast as anything. "I swear it."
"Good." Mal lets go, turns, and opens the door to his quarters. A second or two later, from inside, he calls, "You comin'?"
That don't even require an answer; Jayne follows him in and pushes him up against the wall, mouthing at his neck the way he knows Mal likes. Mal's skin tastes like salt, but his mouth, when he kisses Jayne, is sugar-sweet. "Been missin' this," Jayne growls when Mal's hand finds his cock.
"Enough to do whatever I want?" Mal asks.
Jayne nods. Lets Mal turn him around, shove his pants down around his knees and take him like that, from behind, hard hands on his hips and hard cock forcing its way into him. He grunts, forearm braced against the wall and muffling the sounds he makes when Mal comes, the throbbing of the cock inside sending sharp little pains skittering through him. When Mal finds Jayne's flesh, heavy and hot between his legs, and strokes it a couple times, Jayne comes, too, his body tense and then relieved.
They lie on the bunk. There ain't room for them to lie side by side on their backs, so Jayne half curls around Mal, teeth worrying at his shoulder.
"Don't you go leaving any marks," Mal warns him.
"Won't," Jayne says gruffly. He waits for Mal to say something else -- to tell him that if he ever does anything like he did on Ariel again he won't hesitate to kill him -- but Mal just lies there, breathing, like he usually does. Like nothing's changed, only Jayne's pretty sure something has.
He just wishes he could figure out what it was.
End.
How I wish I could surrender my soul;
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
How I wish I'd chosen darkness from cold.
How I wish I had screamed out loud,
Instead I've found no meaning.
I guess it's time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say, but I'm not here for trouble.
It's more than just words: it's just tears and rain.
- James Blunt