Firefly, M/S Fic: Itch for lvs2read birthday
Title: Itch
Fandom: Firefly
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The things Mal will do for Simon. He really shouldn’t have let Simon drink all that sake.
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Disclaimer: Joss owns, and fox are gits for not wanting to keep
Warnings: Frustration, smut, touch of fluffiness.
Birthday fic for lvs2read, hope you have fun today hon!
Thanks to prehistoric_sea for a wicked beta and finding me a title when one eluded.
He really shouldn’t have let Simon drink all that sake.
Mal grimaces at the stickiness that dampens his shoulder, shifting slightly forwards in the hope that Simon will rest on his pillow rather than against his back. The endeavor proves fruitless when Simon grunts out a small protest, arm sprawling across Mal’s chest as he nuzzles closer to him, gumming at his neck in a sloppy drunk parody of a kiss.
Ma de<
Maybe “let” was a strong word, perhaps “forcibly stopped” would have been better.
Trouble is, Mal can’t begrudge Simon drinking, can’t say he likes the rare occurrence either but it would be wrong to deny it has its up side. He remembers the first time Simon actually showed he had an interest, was more keen on Mal than he admitted, flirting with direct actions instead of just the sniping and bantering they’d been using against each other.
* * *
Simon wasn’t so drunk back then that he didn’t know what he was doing but just drunk enough to let his guard down, to let his body respond to Mal rather than hold himself stiff. To this day, Mal’s still not sure Simon didn’t want to lose his inhibitions that night, not entirely sure he did either. More like Simon to be all cunning too, knowing worst he’d get come morning if things went wrong would be crude comments which the crew ,save Jayne, would surely defend him from. Didn’t work out that way though. Mal had been only too pleased to find Simon’s attention on him as Kaylee had mooned after the young mudder man, all giggles and glances, and Jayne had staggered off with a couple of the women, blustering tales about his life as a hero.
Might have been a bit uncomfortable at first, but when he’d come back with a fresh round of mudder’s milk to find Simon being pawed over, Mal had made it clear Simon was with him. Easily sliding onto the bench behind Simon, he’d wrapped his arms around the doctor, eyes on the man who’d sought to gain Simon’s affections. Hadn’t just been the drink or gratefulness that had Simon relaxing against him, no longer tense and taut, but tilting his head as Mal’s lips pressed just underneath his ear, stubble rasping against his neck, making him shiver.
Had been an interesting night for sure, feeling Simon’s lips eagerly pressing against his own, parting slightly as the doctor teased his tongue with surprising experience and skill, getting Mal close to moaning as he wriggled back against him. They’d come about as close to rutting as they possibly could, Simon’s shirt losing half its buttons as Mal slipped his hand inside it and the captain near on ruining his pants thanks to all the squirming and bold kisses.
* * *
Might have ended badly the next day for Jayne, but Mal found playing doctor to the battered and bloodied Simon brightened it up. Especially when he’d been able to corner Simon in doing it and get a straight answer out of him, rather than the confused babbling that had got Mal’s back up that morning.
The object of his lamentations sighs loudly and snuggles more against him, hot and almost uncomfortably so, arm tightening around Mal.
Ain’t like he’s never done this for me, Mal reminds himself of that as soft snores fill the bunk and he attempts sleep for the third time that night.
Really shouldn’t have let Simon rest up there either, He thinks. He should have let Zoe come and get them, should have braved the stony expression that dragging her from her warm and Wash-filled bed would have yielded. Rather than attempting to walk them both home, especially given his own inebriation.
Managing to fend off Simon’s drunken kisses and grabby hands hadn’t been something he’d wanted to do, weren’t all that unpleasant to have his usually reserved and proper lover wanting to be all over him in public. In the bunk, yes, but in public Simon kept his hands to himself. Had been gorramn distracting, especially with Simon swaying and hiccupping. Passion had come to an abrupt halt though when Mal had found himself holding Simon close and trying to keep him steady as his lover abandoned both manners and decorum to relieve himself against the nearest tree, miraculously managing without soaking them both.
His jacket hadn’t fared too well, stained green on one side where Mal had gripped the tree supporting them. Not to mention his hand…it had started to tingle the rest of the walk back, getting progressively worse till it burned and Mal found himself hurrying, dragging a protesting Simon along with him.
Mal flexes his hand with a grimace, peering at it through the half-darkness. Didn’t look too bad, just a tinge of red on the palm and finger tips, which Mal expected given how hard he’d scrubbed it once the got inside Serenity. It still itched though, a constant annoyance that along with the snoring, was keeping him from falling into a deep sleep.
It was just as well he’d ignored Jayne’s crude comments and laughter, washing it off there and then rather than come back at the merc. Not too mention, Simon’s attempts to doctor badly and kiss everything better--last thing he needed was Simon awake and itching, not to mention his lips any more pouty.
“Though wouldn’t be that much of a bad thing right now,” he muttered to himself, flexing his hand wistfully. Somehow through all the irritation his cock had managed to stay hard, teased by Simon’s earlier caresses and attempts at fellatio once inside their bunk. Kissing when drunk was fine, drunk sex when they managed it was a whole lot of fun, but drunken blowjobs where his lover had managed to get him close to the edge and barely able to resist thrusting, then muttered “don’t feel so good Mal”, and clamber into bed--not all that funny.
Trying to wish away his erection and get into a comfortable position without disturbing Simon, Mal closes his eyes, concentrating on ignoring the snores and his smarting hand, finally drifting off into a fitful sleep a few hours before morning arrives.
****
“What the di yu is this!”
Having somehow migrated atop his lover during the night, Mal’s curse pushes the snoozing doctor finally into awakening, though it doesn’t give him enough warning to roll back onto his side of the bed to avoid falling out of it as Mal sudden shifts and overbalances him.
Buttocks sore from having landing flat on them, jolted awake and tasting blood from where he’s bitten the tip of his tongue, Simon rubs at his eyes, shooting Mal a glare, lower lip stuck out making him look more petulant than furious.
His lover is pacing rapidly in front of him, not doing his mind any good as the fast movements make him dizzy.
Simon swallows hard, frowning at the acrid taste in his mouth as he gets to his knees and finally back onto the bed with a groan. “What’s wrong, Mal?” His lover is cursing a blue streak, one which makes Simon wince as he gains a scathing glare and curse for the question.
Touching his smarting buttock, shaking off the fogginess left from the night before, Simon wonders how they got back from the bar, the last thing he remembers is them both raising a toast to the Independents--an activity so unusual in itself, at least for him, that Simon pauses ignoring the renewed pacing. He can’t remember much after that, but is comforted since the only side effect is a nasty taste rather than a raging hangover and dehydration, which he can only guess means he fell asleep prematurely.
Mal tosses him a baleful glare, annoyed that Simon doesn’t even having the decency to join him in pain though the doctor is blissfully unaware of it.
“Wrong? Aside from my hand itchin’ like a hun dan and covered in go-se?” The incredulity is obvious in both Mal’s expression and tone, though it fades as Simon jumps to his feet closing the distance between them to take hold of his wrist, with hands which shouldn’t feel as silky smooth and cooling as they do. Healing hands, much like Simon’s lips though the captain’s right in guessing Simon won’t be kissing the angry looking red rash.
“This looks like some kind of allergic reaction, Mal.” Simon turns Mal’s hand, studying up his arm, tracing his fingers on the unmarred skin there. “It’s too localized to be something you’ve eaten or drank, what have you been touching?”
“I been touchin’? Just about every rutting thing between the ship and that bar you wanted taking to last night.” Mal flicks and flexes his hand as Simon drops it, displeasure obvious though Simon is too busy trying to remember what happened after the bar to notice. “Or did that sake addle your smarts?”
“Shu muh?" It’s not much use, Simon can’t remember much more after drinking with Mal at the bar and trying too is starting to make his head hurt. Or perhaps it’s the after effects of the alcohol catching up with him. Something about the rash on Mal‘s hand grates on a memory, something from years back, from his childhood. “Did you touch any foliage out in the street?”
“A tree,” Mal corrects him sullenly, sitting on the edge of the bed as Simon roots around under it, hands closing around the handle of his red medi-bag, which he pulls out and sets carefully next to Mal.
“I could be wrong but given where we are, the pride these people seem to take in keeping their streets tidy--”
“Pretty and pompous if you ask me, tryin’ to be core folk when they ain’t.” Mal cuts in, apparently unwilling to let his annoyance go, though Simon can only imagine how much the captain has to be wanting to itch. Mal’s hand is spread open, palm up and fingers trembling slightly, just enough to show Simon how much his lover is straining not to scratch. At another time they’d be amused by this, Simon always is amused by that, much as he hates his lover being injured, Mal complains more about the healing itch than the injury itself.
“Right,” Simon keeps his voice deliberately soft, not bothering to comment on the ‘pretty and pompous’ comment that he‘s sure is directed closer to home than the people outside the ship. He raises his gaze to meet Mal’s eyes as he twists the lid off the small tube he’d found.“Anyway, I remember when River and I were young. Our neighbors were entering a flower show and so they had everyone influential around to view their pride and joy, one of those meet and greets that’s purely to show off just how much better you are.” He sighs, shaking off the comment. Iit’s not his life now, thankfully. His life’s here on board Serenity with River safe and with Mal.
“Ain’t like that no more, Simon, and mighty touchin’ it is to think of you an’ River bein’ young an’ happy, but I gotta ask what you have there.” Mal’s looking less sullen then he was before and apologetic, at least in expression if not repentant in tone.
“Similar to Hydrocortisone, it will take away the itching, at least for a while anyway.” Simon squeezes a small amount onto Mal’s palm, watching Mal’s fingers twitch for a moment, seeing the slight smile and flicker of mischief that crosses the captain’s face. He quickly places his fingers on the blob before Mal can clench into a fist and watch the cream ooze from between his fingers.
“River and I, we were only small, she can’t have been more than three or four but smart as you can never imagine a child to be without seeing it first hand.”
“Girl’s got enough smarts now, scarily so sometimes, can only imagine how she’d be.”
Simon smiles, fingers spreading the cream over Mal’s palm, small soothing circles rubbing it into the inflamed skin. “She was correcting my spelling already and informing anyone when they made mistakes at reading aloud.” His fingers slip between Mal’s as he gently spreads the cream over. “She was also extremely curious.”
“Not too sure what this’s gotta do with the rash.” Mal’s voice is dry, but Simon hears a slight hitch to it as his fingers ghost higher.
Up the inside of Mal’s arm, gently stroking from the back of his elbow to the softer skin at the front. Not longer rubbing in cream and Mal’s no longer sounding sullen, nor looking annoyed Simon notes as his fingers dance back to Mal’s reddened palm. “We were playing hide and seek in the gardens while our parents made their rounds. River hid between some of the smaller saplings and when I found her she was rubbing both hands on the floor, trying to rid herself of whatever pesticide or fertilizer they’d sprayed. Her rash lasted for a few days and our neighbors were less than pleased when they were removed from the competition and frowned upon for cheating.”
Mal’s flexing his hand now, confusion and relief both showing in his eyes, as his palm becomes cooler and tingles. “’S better.”
“Short term relief.” Simon can hear the apology in his voice, the memories from the night before starting to come back, words prompting him to remember parts. To remember what a nightmare he can be when drinking, Ai ya, bet he’s glad I don’t do it too often. Though it did have it’s uses, it’s merits.
He’s still not entirely sure what happened but he can remember his hands running all over Mal as his lover was hissing at him to stop, almost carrying him as they hurried towards the ship. “I’m sorry, Mal.”
“Rememberin’?” Mal’s hand is on his chin, bringing Simon’s gaze to his and Simon’s blushing, the tube of cream forgotten and dropped. “Weren’t my choice to stop there, you wanted to get all over it, lucky I stopped you or you’d be covered by now.”
“And wouldn’t that be amusing.” Simon’s fingers are idly shifting through the fine hairs on Mal’s legs, playing on the edge of his bed-shorts as he leaned forward, cheek pressed to Mal‘s inner thigh slowly kissing upwards.
“Not so much, ‘cept perhaps the advantage in running my hands all over to soothe you.”
Simon chuckles, the noise having immediate effect on Mal; the captain inhales deeply, his unaffected hand moving to settle in Simon’s hair as the doctor rests his cheek more firmly against the bulge in Mal’s shorts. “Well, you certainly saved me a discomfort.” He speaks casually, fingers slipping into Mal’s shorts to gently caress over his hard cock, thumb tracing over the top as he grips the shaft, stroking firmly downwards and then up.
A slow rhythm that has Mal’s breathing quickening, that entices Simon to lean up more, to pull at the waistband of Mal’s shorts and move it out of the way so they can both watch what Simon’s doing. Watch the slow movements as Simon works his hand up and down Mal’s shaft.
Simon vaguely remembers teasing Mal last night, sloppy wet kisses and drunken fumbling, the realization that he left Mal midway through, hard and hot and frustrated. “Pants off, Mal.” His voice is firm and he keeps his hand on Mal’s cock as the captain lets go of his hair, to clumsily lever himself up enough and shrug his pants to his knees.
Resting on knees that protest against the uncomfortable metal floor, digging into them, Simon kisses slowly up Mal’s inner thigh, stopping just shy of pressing his lips to the crinkled sac between his legs to nip his thigh just hard enough to make Mal jump and a curse come to his lips. Making Mal wait on his pleasure, grow in anticipation for what Simon is going to do, is making Simon’s own cock harden, making him take himself in hand and stroke leisurely.
He can feel Mal’s eyes on him as he glances up to catch his lover craning his head to try and get a glimpse of Simon touching himself. So absorbed he’s not paying attention as Simon inclines his head to lightly blow across his erection, but the moment his warm breath ghosts across the head Mal tenses, breath blown out as his cock twitches. Running his tongue from top to bottom, to flick over and suck lightly upon Mal’s balls, Simon feels the shudder that runs through Mal and his cock twitches in response, wanting more than just this slow teasing as Mal is.
“Simon,” The hoarseness of Mal’s voice, so close to a groan, has him stroking faster and Simon tilts his head, mouth wrapped around the front of Mal’s cock, sucking and gently grating his teeth. Slow and gentle aren’t what either of them are wanting right now and it’s something Simon finds he’s rapidly losing patience with. He can tell Mal is too as he uses his hands as leverage and manages to tilt his hips and arch up, demanding Simon’s full attention and wanting the release Simon’s only too happy to give.
One hand still strokes his own cock, the other is kneading at Mal’s balls as Simon’s mouth closes over his stiff cock, sucking the end and tasting Mal before working him further into his mouth. Mal’s breathing faster now, shorter breaths as his fingers once more wind in Simon’s hair, making the doctor close his eyes as he uses tongue and throat and teeth, in an erratic, fast rhythm that has Mal panting and has his own cock throbbing.
Mal’s saying something, something half-groaned and hidden in the noise and Simon’s not really listening, his entire being concentrated on pleasuring Mal, in making his lover near on incoherent. Soursweetness floods his senses as Mal jerks, thrusting up into his mouth, balls pulsing as Simon kneads at them and the captain lets out a long shuddering breath.
“Simon.” Simon’s not sure he’s heard that reverent tone from anyone else, that quiet ‘come here and let me hold you’ one that always comes post-orgasm.
Tongue working over the half-hard cock in his mouth, Simon lets it fall from between his lips, kissing the head before he looks up shyly. Mal’s flushed, looking a lot more relaxed and happy than he did when they awoke, and Simon runs his tongue over his swollen lips, wanting to crawl up onto the bed, onto Mal’s lap and encourage the Captain to rut him senseless. But Mal’s still flexing his hand, itch not completely relieved and Simon sighs softly, wishing he carried the more powerful creams in his bag.
“Think you’re up to going to the infirmary now?”
Mal glances at hand, contemplating for a moment before he leans down gripping Simon about the shoulders and prompting him to rise to his knees, sliding on Mal’s lap as the captain captures his lips in a possessive kiss. Tongue pushing at Simon’s lips, parting them and sweeping in to explore and claim his mouth in an all too brief kiss that leaves Simon panting, his hard cock pressing against Mal’s belly.
“It’ll keep. Think I can stand it a little longer if I’m distracted.”
Fandom: Firefly
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The things Mal will do for Simon. He really shouldn’t have let Simon drink all that sake.
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Disclaimer: Joss owns, and fox are gits for not wanting to keep
Warnings: Frustration, smut, touch of fluffiness.
Birthday fic for lvs2read, hope you have fun today hon!
Thanks to prehistoric_sea for a wicked beta and finding me a title when one eluded.
He really shouldn’t have let Simon drink all that sake.
Mal grimaces at the stickiness that dampens his shoulder, shifting slightly forwards in the hope that Simon will rest on his pillow rather than against his back. The endeavor proves fruitless when Simon grunts out a small protest, arm sprawling across Mal’s chest as he nuzzles closer to him, gumming at his neck in a sloppy drunk parody of a kiss.
Ma de<
Maybe “let” was a strong word, perhaps “forcibly stopped” would have been better.
Trouble is, Mal can’t begrudge Simon drinking, can’t say he likes the rare occurrence either but it would be wrong to deny it has its up side. He remembers the first time Simon actually showed he had an interest, was more keen on Mal than he admitted, flirting with direct actions instead of just the sniping and bantering they’d been using against each other.
* * *
Simon wasn’t so drunk back then that he didn’t know what he was doing but just drunk enough to let his guard down, to let his body respond to Mal rather than hold himself stiff. To this day, Mal’s still not sure Simon didn’t want to lose his inhibitions that night, not entirely sure he did either. More like Simon to be all cunning too, knowing worst he’d get come morning if things went wrong would be crude comments which the crew ,save Jayne, would surely defend him from. Didn’t work out that way though. Mal had been only too pleased to find Simon’s attention on him as Kaylee had mooned after the young mudder man, all giggles and glances, and Jayne had staggered off with a couple of the women, blustering tales about his life as a hero.
Might have been a bit uncomfortable at first, but when he’d come back with a fresh round of mudder’s milk to find Simon being pawed over, Mal had made it clear Simon was with him. Easily sliding onto the bench behind Simon, he’d wrapped his arms around the doctor, eyes on the man who’d sought to gain Simon’s affections. Hadn’t just been the drink or gratefulness that had Simon relaxing against him, no longer tense and taut, but tilting his head as Mal’s lips pressed just underneath his ear, stubble rasping against his neck, making him shiver.
Had been an interesting night for sure, feeling Simon’s lips eagerly pressing against his own, parting slightly as the doctor teased his tongue with surprising experience and skill, getting Mal close to moaning as he wriggled back against him. They’d come about as close to rutting as they possibly could, Simon’s shirt losing half its buttons as Mal slipped his hand inside it and the captain near on ruining his pants thanks to all the squirming and bold kisses.
* * *
Might have ended badly the next day for Jayne, but Mal found playing doctor to the battered and bloodied Simon brightened it up. Especially when he’d been able to corner Simon in doing it and get a straight answer out of him, rather than the confused babbling that had got Mal’s back up that morning.
The object of his lamentations sighs loudly and snuggles more against him, hot and almost uncomfortably so, arm tightening around Mal.
Ain’t like he’s never done this for me, Mal reminds himself of that as soft snores fill the bunk and he attempts sleep for the third time that night.
Really shouldn’t have let Simon rest up there either, He thinks. He should have let Zoe come and get them, should have braved the stony expression that dragging her from her warm and Wash-filled bed would have yielded. Rather than attempting to walk them both home, especially given his own inebriation.
Managing to fend off Simon’s drunken kisses and grabby hands hadn’t been something he’d wanted to do, weren’t all that unpleasant to have his usually reserved and proper lover wanting to be all over him in public. In the bunk, yes, but in public Simon kept his hands to himself. Had been gorramn distracting, especially with Simon swaying and hiccupping. Passion had come to an abrupt halt though when Mal had found himself holding Simon close and trying to keep him steady as his lover abandoned both manners and decorum to relieve himself against the nearest tree, miraculously managing without soaking them both.
His jacket hadn’t fared too well, stained green on one side where Mal had gripped the tree supporting them. Not to mention his hand…it had started to tingle the rest of the walk back, getting progressively worse till it burned and Mal found himself hurrying, dragging a protesting Simon along with him.
Mal flexes his hand with a grimace, peering at it through the half-darkness. Didn’t look too bad, just a tinge of red on the palm and finger tips, which Mal expected given how hard he’d scrubbed it once the got inside Serenity. It still itched though, a constant annoyance that along with the snoring, was keeping him from falling into a deep sleep.
It was just as well he’d ignored Jayne’s crude comments and laughter, washing it off there and then rather than come back at the merc. Not too mention, Simon’s attempts to doctor badly and kiss everything better--last thing he needed was Simon awake and itching, not to mention his lips any more pouty.
“Though wouldn’t be that much of a bad thing right now,” he muttered to himself, flexing his hand wistfully. Somehow through all the irritation his cock had managed to stay hard, teased by Simon’s earlier caresses and attempts at fellatio once inside their bunk. Kissing when drunk was fine, drunk sex when they managed it was a whole lot of fun, but drunken blowjobs where his lover had managed to get him close to the edge and barely able to resist thrusting, then muttered “don’t feel so good Mal”, and clamber into bed--not all that funny.
Trying to wish away his erection and get into a comfortable position without disturbing Simon, Mal closes his eyes, concentrating on ignoring the snores and his smarting hand, finally drifting off into a fitful sleep a few hours before morning arrives.
****
“What the di yu is this!”
Having somehow migrated atop his lover during the night, Mal’s curse pushes the snoozing doctor finally into awakening, though it doesn’t give him enough warning to roll back onto his side of the bed to avoid falling out of it as Mal sudden shifts and overbalances him.
Buttocks sore from having landing flat on them, jolted awake and tasting blood from where he’s bitten the tip of his tongue, Simon rubs at his eyes, shooting Mal a glare, lower lip stuck out making him look more petulant than furious.
His lover is pacing rapidly in front of him, not doing his mind any good as the fast movements make him dizzy.
Simon swallows hard, frowning at the acrid taste in his mouth as he gets to his knees and finally back onto the bed with a groan. “What’s wrong, Mal?” His lover is cursing a blue streak, one which makes Simon wince as he gains a scathing glare and curse for the question.
Touching his smarting buttock, shaking off the fogginess left from the night before, Simon wonders how they got back from the bar, the last thing he remembers is them both raising a toast to the Independents--an activity so unusual in itself, at least for him, that Simon pauses ignoring the renewed pacing. He can’t remember much after that, but is comforted since the only side effect is a nasty taste rather than a raging hangover and dehydration, which he can only guess means he fell asleep prematurely.
Mal tosses him a baleful glare, annoyed that Simon doesn’t even having the decency to join him in pain though the doctor is blissfully unaware of it.
“Wrong? Aside from my hand itchin’ like a hun dan and covered in go-se?” The incredulity is obvious in both Mal’s expression and tone, though it fades as Simon jumps to his feet closing the distance between them to take hold of his wrist, with hands which shouldn’t feel as silky smooth and cooling as they do. Healing hands, much like Simon’s lips though the captain’s right in guessing Simon won’t be kissing the angry looking red rash.
“This looks like some kind of allergic reaction, Mal.” Simon turns Mal’s hand, studying up his arm, tracing his fingers on the unmarred skin there. “It’s too localized to be something you’ve eaten or drank, what have you been touching?”
“I been touchin’? Just about every rutting thing between the ship and that bar you wanted taking to last night.” Mal flicks and flexes his hand as Simon drops it, displeasure obvious though Simon is too busy trying to remember what happened after the bar to notice. “Or did that sake addle your smarts?”
“Shu muh?" It’s not much use, Simon can’t remember much more after drinking with Mal at the bar and trying too is starting to make his head hurt. Or perhaps it’s the after effects of the alcohol catching up with him. Something about the rash on Mal‘s hand grates on a memory, something from years back, from his childhood. “Did you touch any foliage out in the street?”
“A tree,” Mal corrects him sullenly, sitting on the edge of the bed as Simon roots around under it, hands closing around the handle of his red medi-bag, which he pulls out and sets carefully next to Mal.
“I could be wrong but given where we are, the pride these people seem to take in keeping their streets tidy--”
“Pretty and pompous if you ask me, tryin’ to be core folk when they ain’t.” Mal cuts in, apparently unwilling to let his annoyance go, though Simon can only imagine how much the captain has to be wanting to itch. Mal’s hand is spread open, palm up and fingers trembling slightly, just enough to show Simon how much his lover is straining not to scratch. At another time they’d be amused by this, Simon always is amused by that, much as he hates his lover being injured, Mal complains more about the healing itch than the injury itself.
“Right,” Simon keeps his voice deliberately soft, not bothering to comment on the ‘pretty and pompous’ comment that he‘s sure is directed closer to home than the people outside the ship. He raises his gaze to meet Mal’s eyes as he twists the lid off the small tube he’d found.“Anyway, I remember when River and I were young. Our neighbors were entering a flower show and so they had everyone influential around to view their pride and joy, one of those meet and greets that’s purely to show off just how much better you are.” He sighs, shaking off the comment. Iit’s not his life now, thankfully. His life’s here on board Serenity with River safe and with Mal.
“Ain’t like that no more, Simon, and mighty touchin’ it is to think of you an’ River bein’ young an’ happy, but I gotta ask what you have there.” Mal’s looking less sullen then he was before and apologetic, at least in expression if not repentant in tone.
“Similar to Hydrocortisone, it will take away the itching, at least for a while anyway.” Simon squeezes a small amount onto Mal’s palm, watching Mal’s fingers twitch for a moment, seeing the slight smile and flicker of mischief that crosses the captain’s face. He quickly places his fingers on the blob before Mal can clench into a fist and watch the cream ooze from between his fingers.
“River and I, we were only small, she can’t have been more than three or four but smart as you can never imagine a child to be without seeing it first hand.”
“Girl’s got enough smarts now, scarily so sometimes, can only imagine how she’d be.”
Simon smiles, fingers spreading the cream over Mal’s palm, small soothing circles rubbing it into the inflamed skin. “She was correcting my spelling already and informing anyone when they made mistakes at reading aloud.” His fingers slip between Mal’s as he gently spreads the cream over. “She was also extremely curious.”
“Not too sure what this’s gotta do with the rash.” Mal’s voice is dry, but Simon hears a slight hitch to it as his fingers ghost higher.
Up the inside of Mal’s arm, gently stroking from the back of his elbow to the softer skin at the front. Not longer rubbing in cream and Mal’s no longer sounding sullen, nor looking annoyed Simon notes as his fingers dance back to Mal’s reddened palm. “We were playing hide and seek in the gardens while our parents made their rounds. River hid between some of the smaller saplings and when I found her she was rubbing both hands on the floor, trying to rid herself of whatever pesticide or fertilizer they’d sprayed. Her rash lasted for a few days and our neighbors were less than pleased when they were removed from the competition and frowned upon for cheating.”
Mal’s flexing his hand now, confusion and relief both showing in his eyes, as his palm becomes cooler and tingles. “’S better.”
“Short term relief.” Simon can hear the apology in his voice, the memories from the night before starting to come back, words prompting him to remember parts. To remember what a nightmare he can be when drinking, Ai ya, bet he’s glad I don’t do it too often. Though it did have it’s uses, it’s merits.
He’s still not entirely sure what happened but he can remember his hands running all over Mal as his lover was hissing at him to stop, almost carrying him as they hurried towards the ship. “I’m sorry, Mal.”
“Rememberin’?” Mal’s hand is on his chin, bringing Simon’s gaze to his and Simon’s blushing, the tube of cream forgotten and dropped. “Weren’t my choice to stop there, you wanted to get all over it, lucky I stopped you or you’d be covered by now.”
“And wouldn’t that be amusing.” Simon’s fingers are idly shifting through the fine hairs on Mal’s legs, playing on the edge of his bed-shorts as he leaned forward, cheek pressed to Mal‘s inner thigh slowly kissing upwards.
“Not so much, ‘cept perhaps the advantage in running my hands all over to soothe you.”
Simon chuckles, the noise having immediate effect on Mal; the captain inhales deeply, his unaffected hand moving to settle in Simon’s hair as the doctor rests his cheek more firmly against the bulge in Mal’s shorts. “Well, you certainly saved me a discomfort.” He speaks casually, fingers slipping into Mal’s shorts to gently caress over his hard cock, thumb tracing over the top as he grips the shaft, stroking firmly downwards and then up.
A slow rhythm that has Mal’s breathing quickening, that entices Simon to lean up more, to pull at the waistband of Mal’s shorts and move it out of the way so they can both watch what Simon’s doing. Watch the slow movements as Simon works his hand up and down Mal’s shaft.
Simon vaguely remembers teasing Mal last night, sloppy wet kisses and drunken fumbling, the realization that he left Mal midway through, hard and hot and frustrated. “Pants off, Mal.” His voice is firm and he keeps his hand on Mal’s cock as the captain lets go of his hair, to clumsily lever himself up enough and shrug his pants to his knees.
Resting on knees that protest against the uncomfortable metal floor, digging into them, Simon kisses slowly up Mal’s inner thigh, stopping just shy of pressing his lips to the crinkled sac between his legs to nip his thigh just hard enough to make Mal jump and a curse come to his lips. Making Mal wait on his pleasure, grow in anticipation for what Simon is going to do, is making Simon’s own cock harden, making him take himself in hand and stroke leisurely.
He can feel Mal’s eyes on him as he glances up to catch his lover craning his head to try and get a glimpse of Simon touching himself. So absorbed he’s not paying attention as Simon inclines his head to lightly blow across his erection, but the moment his warm breath ghosts across the head Mal tenses, breath blown out as his cock twitches. Running his tongue from top to bottom, to flick over and suck lightly upon Mal’s balls, Simon feels the shudder that runs through Mal and his cock twitches in response, wanting more than just this slow teasing as Mal is.
“Simon,” The hoarseness of Mal’s voice, so close to a groan, has him stroking faster and Simon tilts his head, mouth wrapped around the front of Mal’s cock, sucking and gently grating his teeth. Slow and gentle aren’t what either of them are wanting right now and it’s something Simon finds he’s rapidly losing patience with. He can tell Mal is too as he uses his hands as leverage and manages to tilt his hips and arch up, demanding Simon’s full attention and wanting the release Simon’s only too happy to give.
One hand still strokes his own cock, the other is kneading at Mal’s balls as Simon’s mouth closes over his stiff cock, sucking the end and tasting Mal before working him further into his mouth. Mal’s breathing faster now, shorter breaths as his fingers once more wind in Simon’s hair, making the doctor close his eyes as he uses tongue and throat and teeth, in an erratic, fast rhythm that has Mal panting and has his own cock throbbing.
Mal’s saying something, something half-groaned and hidden in the noise and Simon’s not really listening, his entire being concentrated on pleasuring Mal, in making his lover near on incoherent. Soursweetness floods his senses as Mal jerks, thrusting up into his mouth, balls pulsing as Simon kneads at them and the captain lets out a long shuddering breath.
“Simon.” Simon’s not sure he’s heard that reverent tone from anyone else, that quiet ‘come here and let me hold you’ one that always comes post-orgasm.
Tongue working over the half-hard cock in his mouth, Simon lets it fall from between his lips, kissing the head before he looks up shyly. Mal’s flushed, looking a lot more relaxed and happy than he did when they awoke, and Simon runs his tongue over his swollen lips, wanting to crawl up onto the bed, onto Mal’s lap and encourage the Captain to rut him senseless. But Mal’s still flexing his hand, itch not completely relieved and Simon sighs softly, wishing he carried the more powerful creams in his bag.
“Think you’re up to going to the infirmary now?”
Mal glances at hand, contemplating for a moment before he leans down gripping Simon about the shoulders and prompting him to rise to his knees, sliding on Mal’s lap as the captain captures his lips in a possessive kiss. Tongue pushing at Simon’s lips, parting them and sweeping in to explore and claim his mouth in an all too brief kiss that leaves Simon panting, his hard cock pressing against Mal’s belly.
“It’ll keep. Think I can stand it a little longer if I’m distracted.”