FIC: Promises (Simon/Wash, River/Simon)
Title: Promises
Author: wildannuette
Theme: First of the 5 stages of love challenge. Can't keep up with the challenges speed but will still be using as prompts.
Series: Broken, sequel to Heartbreaker
Rating: R going onto NC-17
Pairing: Wash/Simon, one sided River/Simon (csi warning-one sided)
Summary: Simon can’t please everybody-won’t even please himself- but still he can’t stop from breaking his promise to River, and she can’t help but know that it’s happening.
Thanks to lvs2read for the beta :)
There’s a weight atop of him, pinning him, keeping his questing hands at bay as warm lips attack his own. Stubborn tongue pushing through his willingly-parted lips, tangling with his. Exploring and teasing, mouth sucking on his lip for a moment before kissing down his chin and across his jaw. Raining light, playful kisses that send shivers through him as they catch at his most sensitive areas, down his neck, behind his ear.
Simon can’t help moaning as stubble tickles his neck, so unusual for his normally smooth-faced lover. An answering chuckle under his earlobe sends vibrations straight through him, hardening his cock as he arches against the man above him. Eyes opening, no longer kissing, now wanting to look even if he can’t touch. Even if Wash is determined to keep his hands away and make Simon beg to be able to caress him in return, a determination that Simon’s riding out, equally stubborn to keep the words away and just ride out the sensations as the pilot pleasures him.
He can do one thing though. Can rock hips upward, legs spread and feet firm as he pushes up and rubs against Wash. Cock to cock, heat flushing through Simon as he feels the smooth, hot shaft sliding and grinding against his own, as Wash curses softly and thrusts against him, mouth working at his nipples. He can’t help moaning himself as Wash rolls them over, releasing his hands to grip at his hips, Simon astride him--his hands splayed on Wash's shoulders for balance. Wash gropes alongside them both, warmth from his hand already fading on Simon’s left hip, the pilot unwilling to let go with the other for even a moment as he fumbles with the lube bottle.
But Simon’s head is starting to ache, making him pause in his movements, making him rub his arm across his eyes as something interrupts his focus, something load and abrasive. Undesirable and annoying, it intensifies making his ears ring.
Hot breath on the back of his neck makes him turn towards it, nuzzle into it despite the confusion which begins in his fuzzy mind. His eyes closing to avoid the light which only aggravates his headache, the humming in his ears only droning louder, becoming musical and very poorly so. Murmuring words he can’t name, head heavy as he runs fingers gently over the soft skin that lies against him, face pressed against the warm pillow as he pulls the warm body closer. Feeling a leg, surprisingly light and smooth, slide over his own. Until a scent tells him it’s not a dream, not a fantasy.
The music tapers off, but the headache is still there and his eyes are still closed. Simon won’t open them, won’t be sure his dream has faded with the warmth nestled against him. A warmth too small, with a scent too floral to be Wash’s. He‘s awake now, rudely pulled from his dream by Mal’s choice of music, however appropriate it may be, Simon can’t help being impressed by Mal’s sadistic streak--he can imagine Jayne’s swearing, the ruckus that's sure to follow.
“If you ain’t up an’ in the galley in twenty, I’ll be sendin’ Jayne to come get you all.”
Simon can hear Mal’s smirk in his tone as he speaks into the comm, can picture the captain leaning back against his chair an air of satisfaction around him. Reluctantly he opens his eyes, still very much aware of the person in his arms, the one person who really should not be there--not anymore, not now.
Cao.
The frustrated curse sounds in his mind and Simon carefully lifts his arm, not wanting to disturb her as he flicks away the wispy hairs that have caught at his lips. River is curled in bed against him, possessively holding him close, yet looking so childlike, so innocent. More like he‘s a possession she wants to hold onto, than a man she‘s thinking of seducing.
But then a smile curves her lips, her hands tightening slightly, body brushing against his own. It feels so familiar, so right to hold her close, until her movements change, her body rubbing against him, sending a shudder through him. One which is not entirely unwanted given his needy state and her unconscious teasing movements. Simon can’t help the groan that comes to his lips as she rocks against him, only underwear separating their bodies from the most intimate of touches. Stroking his cock through his pajama bottoms, grinding herself against him as if she too has erotica on her dreaming mind.
She opens her eyes, smile only widening as he suddenly becomes aware of the intense look.
“Sleepyhead.” Her words are fond, almost playful and before Simon has time to process it all, to do more than jolt in startlement, she rocks against him more stubbornly.
Ma de, she was awake the whole time! Guilt and confusion flood him as the realization hits him, a shudder of a very different nature rushing through Simon as coldness catches at his belly and his erection wilts. She’s still holding onto him and he has to pull away, has to grip her calf firmly and push it off his hip and he wriggles backward. Trying not to fuss, to make a scene to set her off.
Simon’s fingers are shaking slightly as he brushes off the last remnants of sleep. “You shouldn’t be here, mei-mei.” He speaks softly, but stresses the last words.
“Needed to see you, needed to stop you all breaking open.” River sits up, her long hair falling over one shoulder, a slight pout to her lips as she gathers his blanket around her. Protecting herself, nestling into his bed and holding the end of the fabric against her mouth.
River doesn’t take her gaze from him and Simon can’t read anything in her eyes, no emotion save that which has always been there--love. Indistinguishable from the new twisted kind she’s developed, the uncomfortable ideas and fantasies that sometimes he can’t help playing into. Protector, brother, lover. Thankfully he’s managed to keep the last at bay, only briefly slipping too close in moments of madness that he isn’t sure were hers or his.
He’s not about to analyze, not about to over-think; just put it down to her holding on tightly to him, in the way she thinks he needs, the way he wants-double hyphenbut with Wash, not her. She’s not vindictive, not jealous, unable to help how she feels. Which is why he feels more guilty for letting himself sink into her fantasy.
“You could have woken me, should have woken me if you couldn’t sleep, River. Don’t do that again.” His bunk feels smaller than ever, claustrophobic with her staring at him. Simon’s dressing faster than normal, clothing more mussed than usual.
“Feel it too. Broken, needs putting together--two halves make a whole. Always better together--three halves pose an abnormality,uncalculable mathematically--no whole, one half always left over.” River’s words are firm and for once Simon knows what she means, however awkward and confusing her phrasing, and it’s only confirmed when she adds, “Thinking about him again.”
It’s not a question. He’s not sure how she knows, though he isn’t as skeptical on the claim that she’s psychic anymore. Despite what the Alliance had done to her, regardless of the boasting of the head scientist, Simon’s always wavered on that matter--only found himself becoming more and more convinced as time went by, especially aboard Serenity where he now has the luxury of time to spend with her. Time which he’s spent noticing her ramblings more acutely aimed on occasion.
It’s been two months since Valentine's Day and Simon’s gone out of his way to disprove what she claims, to hide his attraction for Wash and not act on the impulses he has, or the hope he can’t help holding onto. Two months since she stopped him from making a mistake that the realist in Simon knows would have ruined everything, would have caused disorder and bad feeling on all sides.
“Break a heart or two--make it sing, then rip it out.”
And Kaylee…he has to be more firm with her, not hover uncertainly in his rejections. It isn’t fair, even if he is only encouraging her as a friend he needs to make it clear, not keep her hoping and wanting, becoming hurt when he forgets to say the right thing. Besides, attraction or not, reguardless of whether it is slowly turning into something stronger, there is Zoe to think of. Had Wash been single, Simon would have thrown caution to the wind and approached him, however subtly. Would have just hidden from River anything that could have emerged.
“Once broken, never sets right.” She’s talking earnestly to him, but he’s barely hearing her, lost in his own thoughts with Mal’s threat apparently forgotten.
It may not be friendship between him and Zoe, but there wasis undeniably respect there. Respect, loyalty…crew. Ludicrous as it sounds, given how much I’ve been lusting after her husband. But he wouldn’t want to treat her callously, to ignore the fragile bonds between them and distress the entire crew.
Simon still has the present he brought for Wash, carefully wrapped in paper and hidden in one of his shirts. Protected from breaking and River‘s curious fingers. He doesn’t want her feeling betrayed, believing he‘s hanging onto it in the hope that one day he‘ll be able to give it to Wash for the right reasons. Doesn’t want her worrying or knowing that‘s why he holds onto it, so he pretends it’s gone but as his mind wanders to it and her gaze steals over in the direction of his case, he knows she knows.
“Pretend for longer, Simon? Promise, please?”
I’m not sure I can. Simon doesn’t want to make that kind of promise, doesn’t want to agree to something he hopes not to keep, but he’s already nodding, the pleading look on her face swaying him unconsciously.
“I won’t do anything to ruin things here, mei-mei, this is our home now.” He is speaking as near to the truth as he can and it seems to satisfy her, makes her relax even as she curls the blankets around her body. Serenity is home to him, the crew near on as close to family as they have. Even if some of them are close to being the kin he doesn’t want to remember, he’s under no illusion that they are extremely lucky to have found such a ship and crew. To have found such a captain as Mal, psychotic as he can often be. Like right at that moment, shouting into the intercom and making Simon wince.
“What the gorramn hell are you doin’ still there? Ain’t you been listening to me? Already got Jayne on his way, and a man that’s woken by fancy core music after a night of sake and bad whores, ain’t one to pull any punches. You best be getting up here, Doc.” Mal sounds less amused than before and it takes a moment for Simon to quickly pull on his shoes and place why.
He’s meant to be having his third flying lesson today. Just as he’s teaching Zoe enough to supplement what field training she’s has, on the chance that he could be incapacitated or captured, Mal and Wash are teaching him to fly.
“Broken soon.” River sounds sad and he glances towards her, absently answering and confirming her thought as he quickly buttons his vest,
“It may not be Wash, River. Mal sounds pretty unhappy, I expect he’s waiting for me. Try and get some sleep, I‘ll come back and see you in a little while. Just don‘t do this again, all right?”
He looks at her expectantly as she nods to him, “Sure, promise.” But there’s a gleam in her eyes that makes him pause, makes him almost question for another answer before he hears Jayne roaring, not far enough away to make him feel at ease.
“Best be up an’ about, doc. Wouldn’t wanna be messin’ up yer pretty, kai zee.”
He leaves River in his bed, curling up in it. Looking more like the sister he should think of her as, than the woman she wants him too.
Simon’s already slipping out the door, pulling it firmly behind him as Jayne barrels up, his scowl telling Simon just how annoyed Mal’s made him and the level of disappointment he has that Simon’s up and ready, not still lying in bed. Simon doesn’t doubt the merc would take pleasure in stripping him--perhaps too much pleasure since he’s not completely unobservant or unaware of the looks Jayne’s occasionally thrown his way--and making him march up to the cockpit.
“Morning, Jayne.” He tries to keep his smile from widening as Jayne’s glower deepens, clasping his hands in front of him just as the merc curses, turns on his heel and stomps away. Denied the small satisfaction embarrassing Simon would have brought. Not that Simon minds Jayne’s exit, he prefers the chance to walk alone, trying to suppress the thoughts of himself and River by focusing on Wash.
He can’t help his attraction, one that only grows day-by-day as he becomes close--becomes a real part of the crew, a family that River sees and Simon wouldn’t mind being able to. He hasn’t spent much time with the pilot recently-- River often objecting when they did, throwing tantrums, especially when everyone else was off ship, and distracting Simon. Drawing him away from the man that she saw him ruining the crew for.
But sometimes, even if it has been rare recently, they’ve been able to talk and Simon’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but Wash is all the more open, all the more casual in talking about himself and Zoe. Even more oddly clamming up once anyone else comes in, making Simon wonder if he should feel flattered or somewhat of a masochist, listening to the man he’s taken more than a fancy to talking about his wife.
Maybe he equals doctor with counselor? Maybe that’s just another extension of my role. Or perhaps merely as a friend?
He can envision the last being more likely--friends, nothing more, nothing less.
He doesn’t mind the flying, enjoys the lessons, both the teacher and the being taught, but Simon does dislike staring into the black, the reminder of the too-thin metal separating them from nothing. He even enjoys, after a quick recap of the ‘do’s and don'ts of handling Serenity, the silences between himself and Wash, comfortable and relaxing. Out of all of the crew, Wash is the only person he can sit with and not feel uneasy or the need to make small talk.
He’s already at the cockpit, sparing an idle thought as to where Mal‘s gone when he walks in, an apology on his lips, Wash‘s chastisement and grin making his heart race a little.
It's only later, when he makes tea and takes it up to the pilot, who accepts it with a smile before they get back to talking, that Simon realizes he’s broken his promise. Wash may only see friendship but Simon sees something more, hasn’t been able to stop wanting or fixating on the barest of things. Even Wash just guiding his hand as he flies, holding it for a moment too long.
It’s then Simon knows that he’ll never be able to keep his promise to River. Not when he feels so strongly against it.
Author: wildannuette
Theme: First of the 5 stages of love challenge. Can't keep up with the challenges speed but will still be using as prompts.
Series: Broken, sequel to Heartbreaker
Rating: R going onto NC-17
Pairing: Wash/Simon, one sided River/Simon (csi warning-one sided)
Summary: Simon can’t please everybody-won’t even please himself- but still he can’t stop from breaking his promise to River, and she can’t help but know that it’s happening.
Thanks to lvs2read for the beta :)
There’s a weight atop of him, pinning him, keeping his questing hands at bay as warm lips attack his own. Stubborn tongue pushing through his willingly-parted lips, tangling with his. Exploring and teasing, mouth sucking on his lip for a moment before kissing down his chin and across his jaw. Raining light, playful kisses that send shivers through him as they catch at his most sensitive areas, down his neck, behind his ear.
Simon can’t help moaning as stubble tickles his neck, so unusual for his normally smooth-faced lover. An answering chuckle under his earlobe sends vibrations straight through him, hardening his cock as he arches against the man above him. Eyes opening, no longer kissing, now wanting to look even if he can’t touch. Even if Wash is determined to keep his hands away and make Simon beg to be able to caress him in return, a determination that Simon’s riding out, equally stubborn to keep the words away and just ride out the sensations as the pilot pleasures him.
He can do one thing though. Can rock hips upward, legs spread and feet firm as he pushes up and rubs against Wash. Cock to cock, heat flushing through Simon as he feels the smooth, hot shaft sliding and grinding against his own, as Wash curses softly and thrusts against him, mouth working at his nipples. He can’t help moaning himself as Wash rolls them over, releasing his hands to grip at his hips, Simon astride him--his hands splayed on Wash's shoulders for balance. Wash gropes alongside them both, warmth from his hand already fading on Simon’s left hip, the pilot unwilling to let go with the other for even a moment as he fumbles with the lube bottle.
But Simon’s head is starting to ache, making him pause in his movements, making him rub his arm across his eyes as something interrupts his focus, something load and abrasive. Undesirable and annoying, it intensifies making his ears ring.
Hot breath on the back of his neck makes him turn towards it, nuzzle into it despite the confusion which begins in his fuzzy mind. His eyes closing to avoid the light which only aggravates his headache, the humming in his ears only droning louder, becoming musical and very poorly so. Murmuring words he can’t name, head heavy as he runs fingers gently over the soft skin that lies against him, face pressed against the warm pillow as he pulls the warm body closer. Feeling a leg, surprisingly light and smooth, slide over his own. Until a scent tells him it’s not a dream, not a fantasy.
The music tapers off, but the headache is still there and his eyes are still closed. Simon won’t open them, won’t be sure his dream has faded with the warmth nestled against him. A warmth too small, with a scent too floral to be Wash’s. He‘s awake now, rudely pulled from his dream by Mal’s choice of music, however appropriate it may be, Simon can’t help being impressed by Mal’s sadistic streak--he can imagine Jayne’s swearing, the ruckus that's sure to follow.
“If you ain’t up an’ in the galley in twenty, I’ll be sendin’ Jayne to come get you all.”
Simon can hear Mal’s smirk in his tone as he speaks into the comm, can picture the captain leaning back against his chair an air of satisfaction around him. Reluctantly he opens his eyes, still very much aware of the person in his arms, the one person who really should not be there--not anymore, not now.
Cao.
The frustrated curse sounds in his mind and Simon carefully lifts his arm, not wanting to disturb her as he flicks away the wispy hairs that have caught at his lips. River is curled in bed against him, possessively holding him close, yet looking so childlike, so innocent. More like he‘s a possession she wants to hold onto, than a man she‘s thinking of seducing.
But then a smile curves her lips, her hands tightening slightly, body brushing against his own. It feels so familiar, so right to hold her close, until her movements change, her body rubbing against him, sending a shudder through him. One which is not entirely unwanted given his needy state and her unconscious teasing movements. Simon can’t help the groan that comes to his lips as she rocks against him, only underwear separating their bodies from the most intimate of touches. Stroking his cock through his pajama bottoms, grinding herself against him as if she too has erotica on her dreaming mind.
She opens her eyes, smile only widening as he suddenly becomes aware of the intense look.
“Sleepyhead.” Her words are fond, almost playful and before Simon has time to process it all, to do more than jolt in startlement, she rocks against him more stubbornly.
Ma de, she was awake the whole time! Guilt and confusion flood him as the realization hits him, a shudder of a very different nature rushing through Simon as coldness catches at his belly and his erection wilts. She’s still holding onto him and he has to pull away, has to grip her calf firmly and push it off his hip and he wriggles backward. Trying not to fuss, to make a scene to set her off.
Simon’s fingers are shaking slightly as he brushes off the last remnants of sleep. “You shouldn’t be here, mei-mei.” He speaks softly, but stresses the last words.
“Needed to see you, needed to stop you all breaking open.” River sits up, her long hair falling over one shoulder, a slight pout to her lips as she gathers his blanket around her. Protecting herself, nestling into his bed and holding the end of the fabric against her mouth.
River doesn’t take her gaze from him and Simon can’t read anything in her eyes, no emotion save that which has always been there--love. Indistinguishable from the new twisted kind she’s developed, the uncomfortable ideas and fantasies that sometimes he can’t help playing into. Protector, brother, lover. Thankfully he’s managed to keep the last at bay, only briefly slipping too close in moments of madness that he isn’t sure were hers or his.
He’s not about to analyze, not about to over-think; just put it down to her holding on tightly to him, in the way she thinks he needs, the way he wants-double hyphenbut with Wash, not her. She’s not vindictive, not jealous, unable to help how she feels. Which is why he feels more guilty for letting himself sink into her fantasy.
“You could have woken me, should have woken me if you couldn’t sleep, River. Don’t do that again.” His bunk feels smaller than ever, claustrophobic with her staring at him. Simon’s dressing faster than normal, clothing more mussed than usual.
“Feel it too. Broken, needs putting together--two halves make a whole. Always better together--three halves pose an abnormality,uncalculable mathematically--no whole, one half always left over.” River’s words are firm and for once Simon knows what she means, however awkward and confusing her phrasing, and it’s only confirmed when she adds, “Thinking about him again.”
It’s not a question. He’s not sure how she knows, though he isn’t as skeptical on the claim that she’s psychic anymore. Despite what the Alliance had done to her, regardless of the boasting of the head scientist, Simon’s always wavered on that matter--only found himself becoming more and more convinced as time went by, especially aboard Serenity where he now has the luxury of time to spend with her. Time which he’s spent noticing her ramblings more acutely aimed on occasion.
It’s been two months since Valentine's Day and Simon’s gone out of his way to disprove what she claims, to hide his attraction for Wash and not act on the impulses he has, or the hope he can’t help holding onto. Two months since she stopped him from making a mistake that the realist in Simon knows would have ruined everything, would have caused disorder and bad feeling on all sides.
“Break a heart or two--make it sing, then rip it out.”
And Kaylee…he has to be more firm with her, not hover uncertainly in his rejections. It isn’t fair, even if he is only encouraging her as a friend he needs to make it clear, not keep her hoping and wanting, becoming hurt when he forgets to say the right thing. Besides, attraction or not, reguardless of whether it is slowly turning into something stronger, there is Zoe to think of. Had Wash been single, Simon would have thrown caution to the wind and approached him, however subtly. Would have just hidden from River anything that could have emerged.
“Once broken, never sets right.” She’s talking earnestly to him, but he’s barely hearing her, lost in his own thoughts with Mal’s threat apparently forgotten.
It may not be friendship between him and Zoe, but there wasis undeniably respect there. Respect, loyalty…crew. Ludicrous as it sounds, given how much I’ve been lusting after her husband. But he wouldn’t want to treat her callously, to ignore the fragile bonds between them and distress the entire crew.
Simon still has the present he brought for Wash, carefully wrapped in paper and hidden in one of his shirts. Protected from breaking and River‘s curious fingers. He doesn’t want her feeling betrayed, believing he‘s hanging onto it in the hope that one day he‘ll be able to give it to Wash for the right reasons. Doesn’t want her worrying or knowing that‘s why he holds onto it, so he pretends it’s gone but as his mind wanders to it and her gaze steals over in the direction of his case, he knows she knows.
“Pretend for longer, Simon? Promise, please?”
I’m not sure I can. Simon doesn’t want to make that kind of promise, doesn’t want to agree to something he hopes not to keep, but he’s already nodding, the pleading look on her face swaying him unconsciously.
“I won’t do anything to ruin things here, mei-mei, this is our home now.” He is speaking as near to the truth as he can and it seems to satisfy her, makes her relax even as she curls the blankets around her body. Serenity is home to him, the crew near on as close to family as they have. Even if some of them are close to being the kin he doesn’t want to remember, he’s under no illusion that they are extremely lucky to have found such a ship and crew. To have found such a captain as Mal, psychotic as he can often be. Like right at that moment, shouting into the intercom and making Simon wince.
“What the gorramn hell are you doin’ still there? Ain’t you been listening to me? Already got Jayne on his way, and a man that’s woken by fancy core music after a night of sake and bad whores, ain’t one to pull any punches. You best be getting up here, Doc.” Mal sounds less amused than before and it takes a moment for Simon to quickly pull on his shoes and place why.
He’s meant to be having his third flying lesson today. Just as he’s teaching Zoe enough to supplement what field training she’s has, on the chance that he could be incapacitated or captured, Mal and Wash are teaching him to fly.
“Broken soon.” River sounds sad and he glances towards her, absently answering and confirming her thought as he quickly buttons his vest,
“It may not be Wash, River. Mal sounds pretty unhappy, I expect he’s waiting for me. Try and get some sleep, I‘ll come back and see you in a little while. Just don‘t do this again, all right?”
He looks at her expectantly as she nods to him, “Sure, promise.” But there’s a gleam in her eyes that makes him pause, makes him almost question for another answer before he hears Jayne roaring, not far enough away to make him feel at ease.
“Best be up an’ about, doc. Wouldn’t wanna be messin’ up yer pretty, kai zee.”
He leaves River in his bed, curling up in it. Looking more like the sister he should think of her as, than the woman she wants him too.
Simon’s already slipping out the door, pulling it firmly behind him as Jayne barrels up, his scowl telling Simon just how annoyed Mal’s made him and the level of disappointment he has that Simon’s up and ready, not still lying in bed. Simon doesn’t doubt the merc would take pleasure in stripping him--perhaps too much pleasure since he’s not completely unobservant or unaware of the looks Jayne’s occasionally thrown his way--and making him march up to the cockpit.
“Morning, Jayne.” He tries to keep his smile from widening as Jayne’s glower deepens, clasping his hands in front of him just as the merc curses, turns on his heel and stomps away. Denied the small satisfaction embarrassing Simon would have brought. Not that Simon minds Jayne’s exit, he prefers the chance to walk alone, trying to suppress the thoughts of himself and River by focusing on Wash.
He can’t help his attraction, one that only grows day-by-day as he becomes close--becomes a real part of the crew, a family that River sees and Simon wouldn’t mind being able to. He hasn’t spent much time with the pilot recently-- River often objecting when they did, throwing tantrums, especially when everyone else was off ship, and distracting Simon. Drawing him away from the man that she saw him ruining the crew for.
But sometimes, even if it has been rare recently, they’ve been able to talk and Simon’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but Wash is all the more open, all the more casual in talking about himself and Zoe. Even more oddly clamming up once anyone else comes in, making Simon wonder if he should feel flattered or somewhat of a masochist, listening to the man he’s taken more than a fancy to talking about his wife.
Maybe he equals doctor with counselor? Maybe that’s just another extension of my role. Or perhaps merely as a friend?
He can envision the last being more likely--friends, nothing more, nothing less.
He doesn’t mind the flying, enjoys the lessons, both the teacher and the being taught, but Simon does dislike staring into the black, the reminder of the too-thin metal separating them from nothing. He even enjoys, after a quick recap of the ‘do’s and don'ts of handling Serenity, the silences between himself and Wash, comfortable and relaxing. Out of all of the crew, Wash is the only person he can sit with and not feel uneasy or the need to make small talk.
He’s already at the cockpit, sparing an idle thought as to where Mal‘s gone when he walks in, an apology on his lips, Wash‘s chastisement and grin making his heart race a little.
It's only later, when he makes tea and takes it up to the pilot, who accepts it with a smile before they get back to talking, that Simon realizes he’s broken his promise. Wash may only see friendship but Simon sees something more, hasn’t been able to stop wanting or fixating on the barest of things. Even Wash just guiding his hand as he flies, holding it for a moment too long.
It’s then Simon knows that he’ll never be able to keep his promise to River. Not when he feels so strongly against it.