Tomorrow I'll miss you, Simon/River, NC-17
Title: Tomorrow I'll miss you
Author: Merle
Rating: NC-17 (see: warnings)
Characters/Pairing: Simon/River
Word Count: 3065
Spoilers: For the pilot, mostly
Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to Joss Whedon, the title is a quote from the song All my loving by The Beatles
Warnings: Pre-series. Het, underage, sexual acts between siblings
Summary: Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a genius to understand why.
A/N: Written for inlovewithnight's One-night-stand ficathon. This story is for recrudescence, whose prompt was: Firefly, Simon/River. Dear recrudescence, it might not be exactly what you imagined, but I hope you like this anyway! Happy Valentine's Day!
Tomorrow I'll miss you
Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a genius to understand why. He's been weird ever since River announced that she wants to join the Academy's program; it's obvious that he doesn't want her to go, but he's afraid that if he shows it, she might think he's envious of her progress - and so he just tries not to see her at all.
Stupid Simon - as if she'd ever believe that. They both know that Simon is incredibly smart, and they both know that River is smarter; but Simon has been nothing but proud of her, and she is sure that this hasn't changed.
She doesn't completely understand why he's so averse to her going to school - as well as she knows her brother, there still are moments when he's driven by motivations she isn't quite able to grasp -, but she would like to believe that he just doesn't want to see her leave. She feels bad for thinking it, because of course she doesn't enjoy seeing him sad, and still she can't help wishing that the thought of them being apart is just as painful for him as it is for her.
Which is why his strategy of avoidance is especially foolish, because she wants to spend the time that's left in his company, and she knows that he feels the same. They shouldn't be apart for days while they are still in the same city. On the same planet.
She skips her dancing lesson and goes to pick up Simon at the clinic after his shift. He's late, as usual, and River waits on a park bench facing the main entrance of the hospital, distractedly thumbing through a book on extinct terrestrial animal species. When she finally spots him leaving the building, so obviously tired, but still holding himself so carefully upright, she once again feels her heart beating faster.
She's not stupid, she knows what it means. Knows that at the age of fourteen, she's hitting puberty; old enough for her sexual needs to awake; she's read enough books to know in detail about the hormonal changes her body is going through.
Her mother, whenever she takes River to a tea room or a bath house because she thinks these excursions are going to improve their relationship, tries to find out if there are any boys River might take an interest in. Not that she thinks River is old enough to date, but she considers her daughter being in that dangerous phase where parents have to be extra attentive if they don't want to be made grandparents far too soon.
River always makes it clear that boys are not something she's interested in, and it's true - the boys her own age are stupid; clumsy children who don't know anything about the universe or themselves. Besides, it's not her fault that any male would be found lacking when compared to Simon.
Her brother is beautiful, and she knows that it's not just her being subjective: Since she was old enough to notice she's seen other people look at him, men as well as women, with open admiration and barely concealed lust; and Orestes, the resident who has had the privilege to take Simon out a few times, would happily step off the roof of a building if Simon asked him to. Of course, her brother is far too nice to abuse his power in such a way, and if he's yet toying with Orestes, it's just because he's too oblivious to understand his own allurement.
Simon starts to walk faster as soon as he notices her, and she jumps up to meet him, book forgotten on the bench. “River, what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised, and she can see that he's already worrying.
“If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain”, she quotes, and then, accusingly: “You've been hiding.“
Simon sighs heavily, equal parts guilt and exasperation. “Mei-mei ... shouldn't you be in dancing class right now?“
River shrugs. “I already know everything Li Ping could teach me anyway. Besides, I'd rather have dinner with you.“
“Would you now?” Simon asks, brow raised, smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, and River knows she's forgiven for running away from her lessons. “So where do you want to go?” he asks, even while he's suppressing a yawn, and River feels full of love for her brother who would take her out without complaint, just because she wants to, even if he's almost dead on his feet.
So she gets on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck, and his hands come to rest on her back, gathering her close. She buries her nose in the soft hollow right above his collar bone, inhaling the scent of disinfectants, green tea, sweat and cologne, a smell she thinks she might very well be addicted to. “I missed you”, she whispers against his skin, and his arms tighten around her.
“I missed you too.“
In the end, they just go back to Simon's place, ordering food from the dim sum restaurant on Alliance Avenue, and River watches her brother's shoulders slump down in relief when she suggests it. He still insists on sending a quick wave to their parents, because he guesses correctly that she didn't tell anybody when she left. She lowers her head when he asks, and makes what she thinks is a rueful face, but she has a feeling that he can see straight through her, and the idea makes her happier than it should.
They have dinner on the floor in Simon's living room, and later stretch out on the thick, soft, expensive carpet, next to the low table that carries the remains of their meal, platters filled with jiaozi, cheun gyun and wonton.
They are feeding each other pieces of fresh mango and lychee, River nudging Simon's lips with her chopsticks again and again, Simon opening his mouth obediently for her offerings, River watching his throat moving when he swallows, making haochi noises for him as if she's talking to a baby, just to see him smile.
She's right on her way to being tipsy, the mei jiu going to her head, although Simon is measuring her drinks carefully and would never let her actually get drunk; but it's enough to make her feel incredibly warm, and tingly, and even more daring than usual.
“So how are things going with Orestes?” she asks, her head resting on his chest, her fingers playing idly with the buttons of his vest. “Did you have sex?”
“River!” he groans. “We are not talking about this!”
“So you did!” she states gleefully. “Did you like it?”
Simon scrunches his face up in indignation, in that way she finds so utterly adorable and not intimidating at all, and she doesn't tell him that she thinks about it, imagines it when she touches herself at night: Wonders what they must look like, entwined in a passionate embrace; heated skin, sweat-slick and flushed, limbs tangled and mouths curled around desperate moans.
“Come on, ge-ge, don't be like that”, she begs, rubbing her head against his shoulder like a cat that wants to be petted. “I need to know the dirty details. And I'm counting on you writing me more in your letters while I'm away. Otherwise, I just might die of boredom in the course of a week.”
He grows tense under her, and she knows she's made a mistake. “I'm sure death by boredom is not something you'll have to worry about,” he finally says, but the joy is gone from his voice.
She gets up on her elbow so that she can see his face. It's tense, and unhappy, and she reaches out to caress his cheek. “Why are you so against me joining the program?” she asks, because now that the mood is ruined, she might as well try to find out.
“River ...” Simon sighs. “I'm not against it.”
She raises an eyebrow, and he scowls. “I'm not”, he insists. “It's just ...” He hesitates. “I'm just worried. I've got a bad feeling about this.”
He's seriously upset, and it scares her. Simon is not one to have bad feelings and doubts; he prefers to believe in what he can prove, almost as devoted to science and facts as she is herself. “Simon, why would you say that?”
He moves to sit up, trying to put some distance between them, but she doesn't let him escape, just edges closer until he relents. She crawls into his lap, nestles up against him, feels his heart beating hard and fast under her head.
“Don't you think it's strange that we never heard about this program before?” he asks.
River shrugs. “It was supposed to be top secret.“
Simon shakes his head. “But Father has connections. He should have known.” He's practically wringing his hands. “He always knows these things before anyone else does.”
Her hand is on his face again, gently moving down his cheek, curling around his neck, squeezing lightly. “Maybe he did hear about it and just forgot. Maybe he just didn't consider it important, because he didn't see any potential profit in the information.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asks, and she doesn't want to answer this question. It's not as if she didn't think about it, because she did - did wonder, did worry about the exact same things, flaws in an otherwise perfect construct of persuasion. But there are explanations, good ones, too; explanations she needs to believe in, because she needs this program - so much. She wants to learn, so much more than what her tutors could ever teach her; has to get away from the constriction of their parents' control; most of all, she needs to prove to Simon that she's not a child, not his little sister anymore; and she can't let those doubts take that chance away from her.
“Yes, I believe it”, she says firmly, and instead of calling her out on her lie, he closes his eyes and nods.
“I'm being stupid”, he says. “I just don't want to lose you.“
“You are not going to lose me”, she says, shocked that he'd even think that, wrapping herself around him, dropping little kisses on his head, his cheek, his ear, like he did when she was little and afraid of the things moving in the night. He relaxes into her touch, and then he turns his head towards her, maybe to say something, or maybe not, and their lips just fit together; they slip into the kiss, mouths open, eyes closed.
Simon tastes sweet, of plum wine and fruit, lips sticky with sugar and juice, and she wants to eat him up; doesn't care about this being her first real kiss, doesn't think about kissing at all, just licks into his mouth, craving for more, swallowing greedily everything he offers.
They break apart finally, foreheads still pressed together, and Simon swallows and shakes his head. “River, this is .......”
“Shh”, she says, pressing her palm over his mouth, not wanting to hear all the reasons why she can't have more of this. It would be such an unnecessary conversation, anyway, an argument that cannot be won, because moral norms can be justified, but not verified, and Simon knows that as well as she does. In the end, it comes down to the question if Simon wants this, wants this as much as she does, coming as close to melting together as they'll ever get, and she is not worried about the answer. He always wants what makes her happy.
He reaches up to catch her wrist and moves her hand away from his face, holding it in a firm grip. “You need to be sure”, he says, and his eyes are dark and fierce. “I need you to be sure.”
“I'm leaving next week”, she answers, free hand on his chest, over his heart. “I'll be gone for years. Things will happen, and when they do, I want ....” She looks up at him. “I want to know what it's supposed to feel like. I want you to be first.”
He breathes, and nods, and reaches out with only slightly shaking hands. She shivers in anticipation when he touches her hair, combing the long strands with gentle fingers, when his hands move lower, his touch leaving invisible traces on her neck.
He slips her loose dress over her shoulders, revealing her bare chest, and she blushes, feeling ashamed of her body for the first time in her life, her scrawny torso, her barely existent breasts. She tries to cross her arms over them, but Simon reaches out and pulls them away.
“Don't do that”, he says, his hands like feathers on her skin. “They are beautiful”, he continues, voice full of awe, “like apple blossoms, just about to open.”
“You are such a sap”, she chuckles, but she can't help the rush of heat, of happiness at his words. He laughs quietly, and then he bends his head and bites her nipple, and she chokes in surprise. He soothes the sting with a lick of his tongue, then nips her again, and licks, and nips, and she feels it all over her body, from the tips of her fingers down to her toes.
She surges up, tugging at his shirt until he lets go of her and helps her take it off, and she runs her small hands over his skin, trying to feel every bone, every muscle. She memorizes the firm planes of his pectorals, the soft, vulnerable dip under his ribcage, the ripple of his abdomen - until he groans, an almost painful sound, and takes control again, pressing her light, little body into the carpet, descending on her.
River feels too old, most of the time, for the body she's living in; her mind growing bored with people her own age within minutes, bored with most people older than her, too; and it annoys her when adults still treat her like a child, as if she wasn't able to outplay them in any challenge they might suggest.
But here, in the shelter of Simon's body, strong and firm over her, she feels young, yet completely safe, wrapped up in love like a child in the blankets of its cradle. His hands on her skin feel nothing like her own, large and sure on their way across her stomach, her hipbones, her thighs; his mouth sparking a fire between her legs, when his tongue licks into her, thoroughly, fiercely, as if he wants to hollow her out, swallow everything she is, leaving her empty before he fills her again.
By the time he lifts her legs, lines up their hips, she is pliant and loose; welcoming the sting she still feels when he enters her, wanting to take as much of him as she can. He owned her since she was put into his arms as a newborn for the first time, and now he possesses her, too, and it makes her almost sad to know that nothing, nobody, will ever make her feel like this again.
A drop of sweat lands on her lips and their eyes lock as she licks it off; his glance dark and intense, his voice unsteady when he whispers her name - and suddenly, she can feel him: not just the heat of his skin, his sex spreading her open, but his mind; she can feel his pleasure along with her own, sees herself through his eyes, feels his love, his despair; and the sensation is so strong that it pushes her over the edge, making her body shake violently, tense up and relax, and she just barely feels him coming apart as well before she slips away into unconsciousness.
She wakes alone, in Simon's large, luxurious bed, tangled up in soft pillows and silky sheets. Through the window, she can see the Osiris morning sun lightening Capital City in rosy shine, and she can hear soft noises coming from the kitchen.
When she gets up, she discovers that she's wearing a shuiyi top that belongs to Simon, far too big for her, hem covering her thighs, sleeves ending at her fingertips. She feels slightly sore and hangover, but at the same time so incredibly soft and light, and blurred around the edges. When she concentrates, she can still feel Simon's presence lingering on the fringe of her mind, and she wonders if from now on, it's always going to be like this.
Simon is busy making tea when she enters the kitchen, and she watches him from the doorway. He's obviously had a shower, hair still slightly damp in the neck, and he's fully dressed for a new day at work. His attempt to restore the situation to normality makes her smile.
“Zao'an!” she greets, settling in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, still watching him move across the room.
“How are you?” he asks, without looking at her, and she makes a point of smiling at his back.
“I'm great”, she says, demonstratively cheerfully. “I had a lovely night, and I slept very well.”
He keeps pouring water over the tea leaves, and only when he has set down the cháhú, he raises his head to look at her. “You know that it can’t happen again”, he says softly, eyes sad.
“I know”, she nods, voice calm. She knows - knows that even if it was what he wanted, he still feels guilty about what happened, and no arguing about social constructions, about planets with different laws, about the lies of religion is going to ease his mind.
She also knows that he’d do it again, if she begged him to - and she vows that she’ll try not to ask; at least not for a while.
“Will you come see me, before I leave?” she asks, and he looks honestly surprised.
“Of course I will, mei-mei”, he says. “I wouldn't let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“It's not goodbye, silly”, she says. “It's not as if it is forever.”
“Of course it's not”, he says, but his hand is shaking when he pours the tea.
***
Chinese-English translations:
mei-mei: Little sister
jiaozi, wonton: Different kinds of dumplings, filled with meat and/or vegetables
cheun gyun: Spring rolls
haochi: Mmmh!; yummy
mei jiu: Plum wine
ge-ge: Big brother
shuiyi: Pajama(s)
zao'an!: Good morning!
cháhú: Tea pot
Author: Merle
Rating: NC-17 (see: warnings)
Characters/Pairing: Simon/River
Word Count: 3065
Spoilers: For the pilot, mostly
Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to Joss Whedon, the title is a quote from the song All my loving by The Beatles
Warnings: Pre-series. Het, underage, sexual acts between siblings
Summary: Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a genius to understand why.
A/N: Written for inlovewithnight's One-night-stand ficathon. This story is for recrudescence, whose prompt was: Firefly, Simon/River. Dear recrudescence, it might not be exactly what you imagined, but I hope you like this anyway! Happy Valentine's Day!
Tomorrow I'll miss you
- The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if you are able to.
Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a genius to understand why. He's been weird ever since River announced that she wants to join the Academy's program; it's obvious that he doesn't want her to go, but he's afraid that if he shows it, she might think he's envious of her progress - and so he just tries not to see her at all.
Stupid Simon - as if she'd ever believe that. They both know that Simon is incredibly smart, and they both know that River is smarter; but Simon has been nothing but proud of her, and she is sure that this hasn't changed.
She doesn't completely understand why he's so averse to her going to school - as well as she knows her brother, there still are moments when he's driven by motivations she isn't quite able to grasp -, but she would like to believe that he just doesn't want to see her leave. She feels bad for thinking it, because of course she doesn't enjoy seeing him sad, and still she can't help wishing that the thought of them being apart is just as painful for him as it is for her.
Which is why his strategy of avoidance is especially foolish, because she wants to spend the time that's left in his company, and she knows that he feels the same. They shouldn't be apart for days while they are still in the same city. On the same planet.
She skips her dancing lesson and goes to pick up Simon at the clinic after his shift. He's late, as usual, and River waits on a park bench facing the main entrance of the hospital, distractedly thumbing through a book on extinct terrestrial animal species. When she finally spots him leaving the building, so obviously tired, but still holding himself so carefully upright, she once again feels her heart beating faster.
She's not stupid, she knows what it means. Knows that at the age of fourteen, she's hitting puberty; old enough for her sexual needs to awake; she's read enough books to know in detail about the hormonal changes her body is going through.
Her mother, whenever she takes River to a tea room or a bath house because she thinks these excursions are going to improve their relationship, tries to find out if there are any boys River might take an interest in. Not that she thinks River is old enough to date, but she considers her daughter being in that dangerous phase where parents have to be extra attentive if they don't want to be made grandparents far too soon.
River always makes it clear that boys are not something she's interested in, and it's true - the boys her own age are stupid; clumsy children who don't know anything about the universe or themselves. Besides, it's not her fault that any male would be found lacking when compared to Simon.
Her brother is beautiful, and she knows that it's not just her being subjective: Since she was old enough to notice she's seen other people look at him, men as well as women, with open admiration and barely concealed lust; and Orestes, the resident who has had the privilege to take Simon out a few times, would happily step off the roof of a building if Simon asked him to. Of course, her brother is far too nice to abuse his power in such a way, and if he's yet toying with Orestes, it's just because he's too oblivious to understand his own allurement.
Simon starts to walk faster as soon as he notices her, and she jumps up to meet him, book forgotten on the bench. “River, what are you doing here?” he asks, surprised, and she can see that he's already worrying.
“If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain”, she quotes, and then, accusingly: “You've been hiding.“
Simon sighs heavily, equal parts guilt and exasperation. “Mei-mei ... shouldn't you be in dancing class right now?“
River shrugs. “I already know everything Li Ping could teach me anyway. Besides, I'd rather have dinner with you.“
“Would you now?” Simon asks, brow raised, smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, and River knows she's forgiven for running away from her lessons. “So where do you want to go?” he asks, even while he's suppressing a yawn, and River feels full of love for her brother who would take her out without complaint, just because she wants to, even if he's almost dead on his feet.
So she gets on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck, and his hands come to rest on her back, gathering her close. She buries her nose in the soft hollow right above his collar bone, inhaling the scent of disinfectants, green tea, sweat and cologne, a smell she thinks she might very well be addicted to. “I missed you”, she whispers against his skin, and his arms tighten around her.
“I missed you too.“
In the end, they just go back to Simon's place, ordering food from the dim sum restaurant on Alliance Avenue, and River watches her brother's shoulders slump down in relief when she suggests it. He still insists on sending a quick wave to their parents, because he guesses correctly that she didn't tell anybody when she left. She lowers her head when he asks, and makes what she thinks is a rueful face, but she has a feeling that he can see straight through her, and the idea makes her happier than it should.
They have dinner on the floor in Simon's living room, and later stretch out on the thick, soft, expensive carpet, next to the low table that carries the remains of their meal, platters filled with jiaozi, cheun gyun and wonton.
They are feeding each other pieces of fresh mango and lychee, River nudging Simon's lips with her chopsticks again and again, Simon opening his mouth obediently for her offerings, River watching his throat moving when he swallows, making haochi noises for him as if she's talking to a baby, just to see him smile.
She's right on her way to being tipsy, the mei jiu going to her head, although Simon is measuring her drinks carefully and would never let her actually get drunk; but it's enough to make her feel incredibly warm, and tingly, and even more daring than usual.
“So how are things going with Orestes?” she asks, her head resting on his chest, her fingers playing idly with the buttons of his vest. “Did you have sex?”
“River!” he groans. “We are not talking about this!”
“So you did!” she states gleefully. “Did you like it?”
Simon scrunches his face up in indignation, in that way she finds so utterly adorable and not intimidating at all, and she doesn't tell him that she thinks about it, imagines it when she touches herself at night: Wonders what they must look like, entwined in a passionate embrace; heated skin, sweat-slick and flushed, limbs tangled and mouths curled around desperate moans.
“Come on, ge-ge, don't be like that”, she begs, rubbing her head against his shoulder like a cat that wants to be petted. “I need to know the dirty details. And I'm counting on you writing me more in your letters while I'm away. Otherwise, I just might die of boredom in the course of a week.”
He grows tense under her, and she knows she's made a mistake. “I'm sure death by boredom is not something you'll have to worry about,” he finally says, but the joy is gone from his voice.
She gets up on her elbow so that she can see his face. It's tense, and unhappy, and she reaches out to caress his cheek. “Why are you so against me joining the program?” she asks, because now that the mood is ruined, she might as well try to find out.
“River ...” Simon sighs. “I'm not against it.”
She raises an eyebrow, and he scowls. “I'm not”, he insists. “It's just ...” He hesitates. “I'm just worried. I've got a bad feeling about this.”
He's seriously upset, and it scares her. Simon is not one to have bad feelings and doubts; he prefers to believe in what he can prove, almost as devoted to science and facts as she is herself. “Simon, why would you say that?”
He moves to sit up, trying to put some distance between them, but she doesn't let him escape, just edges closer until he relents. She crawls into his lap, nestles up against him, feels his heart beating hard and fast under her head.
“Don't you think it's strange that we never heard about this program before?” he asks.
River shrugs. “It was supposed to be top secret.“
Simon shakes his head. “But Father has connections. He should have known.” He's practically wringing his hands. “He always knows these things before anyone else does.”
Her hand is on his face again, gently moving down his cheek, curling around his neck, squeezing lightly. “Maybe he did hear about it and just forgot. Maybe he just didn't consider it important, because he didn't see any potential profit in the information.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asks, and she doesn't want to answer this question. It's not as if she didn't think about it, because she did - did wonder, did worry about the exact same things, flaws in an otherwise perfect construct of persuasion. But there are explanations, good ones, too; explanations she needs to believe in, because she needs this program - so much. She wants to learn, so much more than what her tutors could ever teach her; has to get away from the constriction of their parents' control; most of all, she needs to prove to Simon that she's not a child, not his little sister anymore; and she can't let those doubts take that chance away from her.
“Yes, I believe it”, she says firmly, and instead of calling her out on her lie, he closes his eyes and nods.
“I'm being stupid”, he says. “I just don't want to lose you.“
“You are not going to lose me”, she says, shocked that he'd even think that, wrapping herself around him, dropping little kisses on his head, his cheek, his ear, like he did when she was little and afraid of the things moving in the night. He relaxes into her touch, and then he turns his head towards her, maybe to say something, or maybe not, and their lips just fit together; they slip into the kiss, mouths open, eyes closed.
Simon tastes sweet, of plum wine and fruit, lips sticky with sugar and juice, and she wants to eat him up; doesn't care about this being her first real kiss, doesn't think about kissing at all, just licks into his mouth, craving for more, swallowing greedily everything he offers.
They break apart finally, foreheads still pressed together, and Simon swallows and shakes his head. “River, this is .......”
“Shh”, she says, pressing her palm over his mouth, not wanting to hear all the reasons why she can't have more of this. It would be such an unnecessary conversation, anyway, an argument that cannot be won, because moral norms can be justified, but not verified, and Simon knows that as well as she does. In the end, it comes down to the question if Simon wants this, wants this as much as she does, coming as close to melting together as they'll ever get, and she is not worried about the answer. He always wants what makes her happy.
He reaches up to catch her wrist and moves her hand away from his face, holding it in a firm grip. “You need to be sure”, he says, and his eyes are dark and fierce. “I need you to be sure.”
“I'm leaving next week”, she answers, free hand on his chest, over his heart. “I'll be gone for years. Things will happen, and when they do, I want ....” She looks up at him. “I want to know what it's supposed to feel like. I want you to be first.”
He breathes, and nods, and reaches out with only slightly shaking hands. She shivers in anticipation when he touches her hair, combing the long strands with gentle fingers, when his hands move lower, his touch leaving invisible traces on her neck.
He slips her loose dress over her shoulders, revealing her bare chest, and she blushes, feeling ashamed of her body for the first time in her life, her scrawny torso, her barely existent breasts. She tries to cross her arms over them, but Simon reaches out and pulls them away.
“Don't do that”, he says, his hands like feathers on her skin. “They are beautiful”, he continues, voice full of awe, “like apple blossoms, just about to open.”
“You are such a sap”, she chuckles, but she can't help the rush of heat, of happiness at his words. He laughs quietly, and then he bends his head and bites her nipple, and she chokes in surprise. He soothes the sting with a lick of his tongue, then nips her again, and licks, and nips, and she feels it all over her body, from the tips of her fingers down to her toes.
She surges up, tugging at his shirt until he lets go of her and helps her take it off, and she runs her small hands over his skin, trying to feel every bone, every muscle. She memorizes the firm planes of his pectorals, the soft, vulnerable dip under his ribcage, the ripple of his abdomen - until he groans, an almost painful sound, and takes control again, pressing her light, little body into the carpet, descending on her.
River feels too old, most of the time, for the body she's living in; her mind growing bored with people her own age within minutes, bored with most people older than her, too; and it annoys her when adults still treat her like a child, as if she wasn't able to outplay them in any challenge they might suggest.
But here, in the shelter of Simon's body, strong and firm over her, she feels young, yet completely safe, wrapped up in love like a child in the blankets of its cradle. His hands on her skin feel nothing like her own, large and sure on their way across her stomach, her hipbones, her thighs; his mouth sparking a fire between her legs, when his tongue licks into her, thoroughly, fiercely, as if he wants to hollow her out, swallow everything she is, leaving her empty before he fills her again.
By the time he lifts her legs, lines up their hips, she is pliant and loose; welcoming the sting she still feels when he enters her, wanting to take as much of him as she can. He owned her since she was put into his arms as a newborn for the first time, and now he possesses her, too, and it makes her almost sad to know that nothing, nobody, will ever make her feel like this again.
A drop of sweat lands on her lips and their eyes lock as she licks it off; his glance dark and intense, his voice unsteady when he whispers her name - and suddenly, she can feel him: not just the heat of his skin, his sex spreading her open, but his mind; she can feel his pleasure along with her own, sees herself through his eyes, feels his love, his despair; and the sensation is so strong that it pushes her over the edge, making her body shake violently, tense up and relax, and she just barely feels him coming apart as well before she slips away into unconsciousness.
She wakes alone, in Simon's large, luxurious bed, tangled up in soft pillows and silky sheets. Through the window, she can see the Osiris morning sun lightening Capital City in rosy shine, and she can hear soft noises coming from the kitchen.
When she gets up, she discovers that she's wearing a shuiyi top that belongs to Simon, far too big for her, hem covering her thighs, sleeves ending at her fingertips. She feels slightly sore and hangover, but at the same time so incredibly soft and light, and blurred around the edges. When she concentrates, she can still feel Simon's presence lingering on the fringe of her mind, and she wonders if from now on, it's always going to be like this.
Simon is busy making tea when she enters the kitchen, and she watches him from the doorway. He's obviously had a shower, hair still slightly damp in the neck, and he's fully dressed for a new day at work. His attempt to restore the situation to normality makes her smile.
“Zao'an!” she greets, settling in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, still watching him move across the room.
“How are you?” he asks, without looking at her, and she makes a point of smiling at his back.
“I'm great”, she says, demonstratively cheerfully. “I had a lovely night, and I slept very well.”
He keeps pouring water over the tea leaves, and only when he has set down the cháhú, he raises his head to look at her. “You know that it can’t happen again”, he says softly, eyes sad.
“I know”, she nods, voice calm. She knows - knows that even if it was what he wanted, he still feels guilty about what happened, and no arguing about social constructions, about planets with different laws, about the lies of religion is going to ease his mind.
She also knows that he’d do it again, if she begged him to - and she vows that she’ll try not to ask; at least not for a while.
“Will you come see me, before I leave?” she asks, and he looks honestly surprised.
“Of course I will, mei-mei”, he says. “I wouldn't let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“It's not goodbye, silly”, she says. “It's not as if it is forever.”
“Of course it's not”, he says, but his hand is shaking when he pours the tea.
***
Chinese-English translations:
mei-mei: Little sister
jiaozi, wonton: Different kinds of dumplings, filled with meat and/or vegetables
cheun gyun: Spring rolls
haochi: Mmmh!; yummy
mei jiu: Plum wine
ge-ge: Big brother
shuiyi: Pajama(s)
zao'an!: Good morning!
cháhú: Tea pot