Firefly fic: Trade Off 3/3 (Mal/Simon)
Title: Trade Off 3/3
Author/Artist: wildannuette
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Summary: Some lines were just drawn to be crossed, some things just need resolving. Mal and Simon come to an agreement.
Warnings: fantasising, aftermath of dom/sub games and thrashing, tiny bit of angst, romance
For the Mal/Simon ficathon with prompt 66-‘shore leave‘.
Thanks to woodsong_1978 for the great beta.
Previous parts:
Control
Submission
“We’re two very different people Mal and I, and who we appear to be to the other is a rose tinted view on who were really are.”
Simon flinched slightly as Inara sprayed the cool mist onto his shoulders. Perched awkwardly on his knees, he was too sore to actually sit down, which had led to numerous crude comments from Jayne who’d noticed his stiff movements and Simon’s avoidance of anywhere but the infirmary. And Inara’s shuttle. Since she’d recommended the House, and knew of the after effects of its visit, she’d wanted to see how he was.
He’d seen the surprise on her face as he’d moved stiffly inside, her offer to check over his welts as he talked accepted but only for those above his waist. His back had several marks covering it, unbroken skin which was tender to touch but not sore, not burning like his buttocks and upper thighs.
A good burn… Admittedly one that had Simon sleeping on his belly, hard cock digging into the mattress as he rubbed against it, imagining the forceful man who’d stood behind him and enjoyed his submission. The man who’d been master to start with, voice gravely and rough, the man who’d made him hurt and burn and crave the tiniest touch and hardest lash. The master soon changing to the fantasy of Mal commanding him, his captain, his master as Mal teased him with pleasure and pain and let Simon just enjoy the sensation.
“Mal sees me as a delicate flower, picked too soon and forced to live among thorns. Thrust into a life he can’t possibly understand getting enjoying or getting gratification from. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Inara was still talking, distracting the grateful doctor as her voice dispelled the fantasy that was rapidly getting a rise out of him. Hands clasped over his half-hard cock, Simon hoped she didn’t notice and focused on listening rather than slipping back into the memory of one of the best nights he’d ever had. One which would have only been topped, had it been Mal sharing his submission.
“Do you love him?” It hurt to ask the question, Simon knowing if her answer was yes he would never be able to go near the Captain, out of respect for Inara and regard for their friendship. Not that he ever expected to get the opportunity but that factor was beside the point.
“ I see him as the rude, obnoxious yet honorable man who has been dealt a bad hand in life. When in truth, Mal volunteered for that life, is that man but with a darker edge to him. Where he sees life and games, I see danger and risk taking. Where I see respect and a career, he sees cheapness and whoring.” Inara didn’t so much ignore the question as skirt around it, taking her time to spray the welts on Simon’s back.
He didn’t want to push too much, didn’t want to get the answer he hoped he wouldn’t. Instead Simon kept quiet, flinching as her fingers ran just below his shucked-down pants waistline, over the deep purple welt barely poking out.
“You enjoyed this, didn’t you, Simon?” She sounded uncertain and Simon shifted around to face her, her eyes fixing to his as if reading there in case of a lie.
“What? Yes, I did.” He coughed slightly, feeling awkward embarrassment rise, not wanting to go into too much detail. He was under no delusion that he was hiding that his buttocks were bruised, but there were just some things he couldn’t share with her. Some things a man needed to keep to himself, however close they were becoming. “Really, I did.” He smiled as the uncertain look faded, replaced by a smile that had his own widening.
“Good. I have to admit, I didn’t think you would be the one I’d be doing this for, it’s nice to be surprised sometimes.”
Simon frowned, hands reaching for his shirt, his back almost dry enough to pull it on. “Oh? Who were you expecting to do it for?”
Yet another question she chose not to answer. Instead Inara backtracked to Simon’s first question as she washed her hands. “Mal and I, we’re two very different people, and we could never find common ground. I used to believe that I was the only one seeing it, that once the blinkers were lifted from Mal’s eyes he’d see what roles we tried to push ourselves into, the game we tried to play. I suppose it was arrogance that had me believing he wouldn’t find himself there first.”
That was new, the concept that Mal was looking away from Inara, looking for someone else perhaps. Much as Simon had dreamt of it and hoped for it, it had never been a really serious consideration, not until recently and so much more so after the House. “Observant as Mal may be, he never struck me as the type to just let something go.”
Inara looked saddened for a moment, but it was more wistful, like she’d let go and could look back without heartache and pain, but still with the sorrow of seeing something long passed. “It hurt, I can’t deny it. In my heart, I think I’ll always have a soft spot for the man.” She laughed ruefully at that, adding, “And a desire to batter him. But we could never be together, belong together.”
Simon grimaced as he shifted this way and that, trying to pull his shirt on without tensing up his back to much. “You sound very sure about that.” He spoke neutrally but as she leaned forward to help him slide it on, he could see the look in her eyes-the certainty and a slight amusement lurking there.
“Simon, you’re closer to what he needs. Not as jaded as he is, but you have an edge too. Not as dark, but all your own. A passion and recklessness that I know he relates to. And I’ve seen you watching him, too.” She wasn’t angered, no annoyance showing in her voice as Simon had once expected there to be, having barely touched on the subject of Mal in the past. An unspoken agreement always between them that airing thoughts on the Captain was a no-go area.
Except now Inara was talking frankly and saying things Simon hadn’t expected to hear. In so many ways, the words reassured him that if he were to make advances on the captain, he wouldn’t cause problems amongst the crew, wouldn’t ruin something that he was tentatively calling friendship. Only now, her words, her reassurances were bringing up another problem, the stomach churning, heart flipping issue of ‘if’. If he made moves to show his attraction to Mal, would the captain reject him?
“I somehow doubt Mal would want that.”
Simon doubted Mal would be cruel enough to laugh but he thought it probable that he’d get an odd look and Mal backing off if he told him, which would be the best response. Worse would be pity.
“I think maybe you’d be surprised.” Inara stood up, helping Simon to his feet where normally he’d be helping her and the doctor was too busy musing on that, so focused on buttoning his shirt that he missed the footsteps behind him.
“Surprised?” Mal’s voice was mocking, his lips narrowed as he sauntered up, arms folded in front of him. “Now, what would anyone have to be surprised over? ‘Cept perhaps by my medic half-undressed in a place that’s seen more sex than Jayne’s bunk.”
“Mal.” Inara’s voice was tight, “I believe this is my shuttle? Who I chose to entertain is none of your concern.”
She really could have worded that better. Had Simon been thinking, rather than focusing on hastily buttoning his shirt, he may have wondered if her words were purposefully spoken. He doubted Inara’s earlier words were true, given that Mal looked jealous enough to start throwing things around despite his neutral expression.
“I should go,”
“That you should.” Mal was looking from one to the other, scowl all the deeper as if he’d caught them breaking one of his rules rather than one that Inara set up and stuck too. “River’s taken an odd turn, thought she’d put them behind her but this is gorramn close to a tantrum. Set her in the infirmary, got Jayne guardin‘ her.”
River…ai ya. Simon closed his eyes, unable to contemplate what could have happened. She’d been so well for so long that the idea of her becoming ill again terrified him. Moving carefully to one side, he passed the captain, ignoring the scowl thrown his way. “Thank you.” He nodded to Inara.
Leaving Mal spluttering behind him, muttering something Simon didn’t dwell on, the doctor made his way as quickly as painful walking would allow. Friction of material against his bruised buttocks, forced him to clench his teeth together as he moved quicker, knowing that if he wasn’t so worried about his sister he’d have found his cock swelling at the sensation.
******
Mal’s fingers were itching again, for a completely different reason than the night before. Interested annoyance had pushed at him to step forward when he caught the words ‘surprised’ coming from Inara, replaced by the possessive jealousy which flooded him at seeing her help Simon up, the doctor buttoning his shirt.
Duh liou mahng.
Clenching his fists, he was now regretting entering the shuttle unannounced, his glower only deepening as Simon moved stiffly away. The rigid movements making Mal only to aware of Jayne’s crude words from earlier, his jeer at the doctor.
“Been rutted senseless there doc, always knew you leant more on the side of sly.”
Simon hadn’t denied the words, just ignored them, which had set Mal in a fair foul mood, ignoring everything and everyone. After being plagued by dreams of said doctor all night, the idea that Simon had sought intimacy in another man’s arms made Mal beyond furious. Mostly at himself, though he couldn’t stop his anger leeching out and affecting everyone else.
“Mal.” Inara’s word was softer now as she touched his arm, but he jerked away. New and unfamiliar anger that she had been making moves on Simon rose in him, making his words more biting.
“Thought you weren’t servicing crew?”
“Oh, you are one of the most arrogant, aggravating-” She bit down on her lips, cutting off her words as she slapped him hard on his shoulder actually drawing an ‘ow’ in its viciousness. “Go after him!”
Mutely he glared at her for good measure, eye to eye, neither one surrendering in their matching stubbornness before he turned on his heel, much like the night before and stormed out, leaving her rolling her eyes after him.
He didn’t catch Simon up, worry over his sister probably pushing Simon to move faster than his aches would have liked, the thought of his loyalty sitting well with Mal even as his scowl deepened over the memory of what could have caused the ache.
Oh, ma de Catching sight of River struggling with Simon, the doctor attempting to hold her down on the bed as her hands swept for scalpels or needles or something sharp that lay on the steel tray near her, Mal felt his heart leap into his throat. “Thought she was gettin’ better!” He growled out the words to Simon as he helped hold her, the speculation at why River wasn’t spouting crazy talk as she once had coming to mind briefly .
“She is, was..I don’t know.” Simon was wincing, making Mal grip at River’s shoulders and hold her until her wriggling subsided and she lay docile, silently watching them. Releasing her shoulders, satisfied the crazy was passed, Mal stepped back, looking Simon up and down.
“This best not interfere with yer doctorin’, can’t have my medic gettin’ some play an’ bein’ incapacitated for days after.” His words were deliberately scathing, making Simon stiffen and then flinch, Mal felt a slight satisfaction that he was hurting too.
Wait, since when am I givin’ a damn about the doc ruttin’ with someone else?
“I can assure you this is the one and only time, captain.” Simon’s words were close to mocking in Mal’s mind, though the regret that flitted across his face had the captain curious.
Both were so focused on the other, that neither noticed the gleam in River’s eye, her moves calculated as she sat bolt upright, Simon reaching her before Mal did. Grabbing at Simon’s shirt, she pulled at it wrestling with her brother as he tried calming her with words and motions.
“Gorramn it, Simon, I-” Mal paused in his step forward to help, eyes drawn to the doctor’s rising shirt, pulled up slightly by River’s tugging motions though Simon’s concentration was too centred on her to notice its rise. But Mal saw it, noticing the bruise on Simon’s back, purple colored welt that arced up Simon’s back, the smallest part visible but suggestion of more underneath the material of his shirt.
“Simon?” Mal breathed out the question, the man’s name almost a groan as Simon rose with a wince onto his toes, pulled forward by River’s motions, waistline of his pants dropping down the tiniest bit to give hint of the design so close to his hip. Adorning his skin, unmarred and unmarked, Just as I intended.
Mal couldn’t drag his eyes away, River still in her actions, pout on her lips as she stared at him Then he saw it, the hint of mischief in her eyes before she smiled, lips moving over one singsong word.
“Matchmaker.”
Simon may have been oblivious up to that point of his sister’s cunning but now he let go of her, frowned down at her in confusion, her name spoken softly, bewilderment clear.
Simon, was Simon all along Now his brain had caught up with the revelation, now River sat quietly looking at him and swinging her legs, Mal could finally let what he felt dictate. What he wanted be true. He hoped, rather than knew that River was right, that what he’d taken a chance that he had heard the night before was true. That Simon had cried out his name at the moment of release, had been imagining his master to be Mal as much as Mal imagined his slave to be Simon.
“I dare say you are.” Mal licked his dry lips as Simon turned towards him, confusion verging on annoyance at the sudden turn of events.
“Captain-”
“Not me!” River sang the words out, pushing herself off the bed, “Just can’t see for looking. “ She sighed, pausing in her walk to the door. “You both just need so much attention.” Leaving her words cryptic, at least to the doctor, who Mal could see was growing more annoyed by the moment, she waltzed from the room, only poking her head back around to add with a sniff, “Don't be stupid, now.”
“Mal!” Simon looked every inch wound up, exasperation obvious as Mal grasped his arm, forestalling whatever questions or tirades that were about to be let loose, his name coming once more, though more questioning. “Mal?”
“Your bunk, now.” Mal couldn’t speak what he had to say in the open infirmary, couldn’t sound his words out right or do just what Simon was tempting him too. Obedient for once, discounting the night before of course, Simon gave him an odd look but moved towards his bunk. Shoulders slumped, Simon didn’t hide the confusion he felt from River’s odd behaviour and Mal’s demand, but evidently resigned himself to be raked over coals for his own behavior.
The bunk was small, tension making Simon shift in front of him, the doctor’s gaze never once leaving his face, not once looking down in shame as if regretting the night before or thinking up a lie.
“Seems like recently there’s been plenty of folk hintin’ things at me, things I musta missed or just have chosen not to be seein’.” Mal watched confusion grow in Simon’s eyes, keeping his focus firmly on the doctor, a small thrill at the possibility he was right moving through him as he saw hope flare for a moment at his last sentence. “Things I thought on having, on taking a chance on but never came close to doing. ‘Til now.”
“I don’t-”
Mal cut Simon off mid sentence with a kiss, lips pressing firmly over Simon‘s, ignoring the words and guessing that Simon was just afraid they could be true, worried of reading more like Mal had. But the doctor wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t kissing back much either, probably in shock or stunned. Mal parted lips to push his tongue against Simon’s, feel them open enough to slide it inside and possessively claim his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Tongue tangling with Simon’s as he found the doctor kissing back, so caught up in the moment, in the having, that they had to pull away for breath.
“That was…unexpected.” Simon struggled to find a suitable word to describe what he felt, unaware that his expression showed more than he might have liked. Heart worn upon his sleeve when he was surprised into showing it.
“’S not the only thing that is.” Unexpected as Simon might have found it, he wasn’t backing away, wasn’t looking like he hadn’t enjoyed it. Can’t really deny he did when his body’s givin’ him away. Mal stepped forward, hand on Simon’s buttons, moving to undo though Simon’s hands were there a second later nervously batting them away.
“No, I can’t. I mean, we can…not right now?” He looked panicked, Simon still not realizing just what it was Mal found unexpected and was knowing. Self-loathing flashing in his eyes for a moment, regret and confusion not following far behind as the doctor went from one extreme to another. Not regretting the night, unable to do so and to push away the thrill of arousal that each movement made, each chafing moment gave him. But cursing his bad luck that this day, worst day he could possibly get a chance with Mal, would be the one he was too sore and marked up to do so.
“Right now.” Mal caught Simon’s hand, “Don’t be hidin’ yourself from me, got no need, not now.”
“I really think there’s every need-” Simon was pulling back, glancing to his door like some magic excuse for delaying would suddenly appear. Mal had to wonder if he was slightly sadistic, or perhaps psychotic, teasing the man in this way. Time for that’s long passed.
“Don’t like that you're bruised, don’t like that you're hurtin’.” Simon was frozen now, eyes wide as he stared at Mal, making the captain flush slightly at the intense look. Got the smarts, Simon, put it all together. “But like that you're wearin’ my marks, no one else’s.”
There was the moment, the moment when horror briefly flared at the implication Mal knew just what he’d been up to the night before, pushed roughly aside by the starting revelation that Mal knew because he’d been there. Been there and been…
“Master?” It wasn’t part of the game that Simon spoke it for, more needing the confirmation.
Mal nodded, hand stroking down Simon’s back to rest on the swell of his buttocks, feeling heat radiate through Simon’s pants as he flinched-but didn’t pull away. “That’s one word for me.”
“And the others?” Simon was more daring now, confidence coming back. Not the slave from the night before but the man he truly was.
“Captain…” Mal shrugged, deliberately obtuse for a moment. “Mal…an’ I can conjure a few less than favorable ones you’re thinkin’ right now.” He leaned closer, shifting so Simon’s weight was almost resting against him, “Would be hopin’ lover might come to your mind though.”
“It-it was a consideration.” Simon was smiling, making himself all the more kissable.
“That’s a good sign.” Mal weighed an idea for a moment, hand resting on Simon’s buttock pulled off to suddenly slap back down on the abused flesh, making Simon start, cross between a yelp and a groan catching on his lips when Mal rocked forward, thigh moving between Simon’s legs to grind against him. “Been owin’ you that from last night, forgot to call me master one last time.”
Simon was worrying his lower lip, eyes half closed as Mal’s hand caressed his smarting buttocks, “And you didn’t correct me then because?”
“’Cause then I’d have been too tempted to just leave you be.” Mal grinned, “Thinkin’ there’s lots we could be doin’ right now save talkin’. Want to get a good look at those welts too, put somethin’ on them to get them healing ‘til next time.”
“Next time?” Simon echoed his words as Mal stepped back, turning to grasp the door of the bunk.
“Next time, ‘less of course you want to be the one to take me in hand, change the rules some?” Mal glanced back at him fiddling with the door before pulling it shut, cock twitching in anticipation when he turned to Simon, seeing the assured smile, heard the confident tone that had him wondering if they could pick up some toys before flying off.
“Oh, I’m sure we could negotiate something.”
Translation:
Duh liou mahng - son of a bitch
Author/Artist: wildannuette
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Summary: Some lines were just drawn to be crossed, some things just need resolving. Mal and Simon come to an agreement.
Warnings: fantasising, aftermath of dom/sub games and thrashing, tiny bit of angst, romance
For the Mal/Simon ficathon with prompt 66-‘shore leave‘.
Thanks to woodsong_1978 for the great beta.
Previous parts:
Control
Submission
“We’re two very different people Mal and I, and who we appear to be to the other is a rose tinted view on who were really are.”
Simon flinched slightly as Inara sprayed the cool mist onto his shoulders. Perched awkwardly on his knees, he was too sore to actually sit down, which had led to numerous crude comments from Jayne who’d noticed his stiff movements and Simon’s avoidance of anywhere but the infirmary. And Inara’s shuttle. Since she’d recommended the House, and knew of the after effects of its visit, she’d wanted to see how he was.
He’d seen the surprise on her face as he’d moved stiffly inside, her offer to check over his welts as he talked accepted but only for those above his waist. His back had several marks covering it, unbroken skin which was tender to touch but not sore, not burning like his buttocks and upper thighs.
A good burn… Admittedly one that had Simon sleeping on his belly, hard cock digging into the mattress as he rubbed against it, imagining the forceful man who’d stood behind him and enjoyed his submission. The man who’d been master to start with, voice gravely and rough, the man who’d made him hurt and burn and crave the tiniest touch and hardest lash. The master soon changing to the fantasy of Mal commanding him, his captain, his master as Mal teased him with pleasure and pain and let Simon just enjoy the sensation.
“Mal sees me as a delicate flower, picked too soon and forced to live among thorns. Thrust into a life he can’t possibly understand getting enjoying or getting gratification from. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Inara was still talking, distracting the grateful doctor as her voice dispelled the fantasy that was rapidly getting a rise out of him. Hands clasped over his half-hard cock, Simon hoped she didn’t notice and focused on listening rather than slipping back into the memory of one of the best nights he’d ever had. One which would have only been topped, had it been Mal sharing his submission.
“Do you love him?” It hurt to ask the question, Simon knowing if her answer was yes he would never be able to go near the Captain, out of respect for Inara and regard for their friendship. Not that he ever expected to get the opportunity but that factor was beside the point.
“ I see him as the rude, obnoxious yet honorable man who has been dealt a bad hand in life. When in truth, Mal volunteered for that life, is that man but with a darker edge to him. Where he sees life and games, I see danger and risk taking. Where I see respect and a career, he sees cheapness and whoring.” Inara didn’t so much ignore the question as skirt around it, taking her time to spray the welts on Simon’s back.
He didn’t want to push too much, didn’t want to get the answer he hoped he wouldn’t. Instead Simon kept quiet, flinching as her fingers ran just below his shucked-down pants waistline, over the deep purple welt barely poking out.
“You enjoyed this, didn’t you, Simon?” She sounded uncertain and Simon shifted around to face her, her eyes fixing to his as if reading there in case of a lie.
“What? Yes, I did.” He coughed slightly, feeling awkward embarrassment rise, not wanting to go into too much detail. He was under no delusion that he was hiding that his buttocks were bruised, but there were just some things he couldn’t share with her. Some things a man needed to keep to himself, however close they were becoming. “Really, I did.” He smiled as the uncertain look faded, replaced by a smile that had his own widening.
“Good. I have to admit, I didn’t think you would be the one I’d be doing this for, it’s nice to be surprised sometimes.”
Simon frowned, hands reaching for his shirt, his back almost dry enough to pull it on. “Oh? Who were you expecting to do it for?”
Yet another question she chose not to answer. Instead Inara backtracked to Simon’s first question as she washed her hands. “Mal and I, we’re two very different people, and we could never find common ground. I used to believe that I was the only one seeing it, that once the blinkers were lifted from Mal’s eyes he’d see what roles we tried to push ourselves into, the game we tried to play. I suppose it was arrogance that had me believing he wouldn’t find himself there first.”
That was new, the concept that Mal was looking away from Inara, looking for someone else perhaps. Much as Simon had dreamt of it and hoped for it, it had never been a really serious consideration, not until recently and so much more so after the House. “Observant as Mal may be, he never struck me as the type to just let something go.”
Inara looked saddened for a moment, but it was more wistful, like she’d let go and could look back without heartache and pain, but still with the sorrow of seeing something long passed. “It hurt, I can’t deny it. In my heart, I think I’ll always have a soft spot for the man.” She laughed ruefully at that, adding, “And a desire to batter him. But we could never be together, belong together.”
Simon grimaced as he shifted this way and that, trying to pull his shirt on without tensing up his back to much. “You sound very sure about that.” He spoke neutrally but as she leaned forward to help him slide it on, he could see the look in her eyes-the certainty and a slight amusement lurking there.
“Simon, you’re closer to what he needs. Not as jaded as he is, but you have an edge too. Not as dark, but all your own. A passion and recklessness that I know he relates to. And I’ve seen you watching him, too.” She wasn’t angered, no annoyance showing in her voice as Simon had once expected there to be, having barely touched on the subject of Mal in the past. An unspoken agreement always between them that airing thoughts on the Captain was a no-go area.
Except now Inara was talking frankly and saying things Simon hadn’t expected to hear. In so many ways, the words reassured him that if he were to make advances on the captain, he wouldn’t cause problems amongst the crew, wouldn’t ruin something that he was tentatively calling friendship. Only now, her words, her reassurances were bringing up another problem, the stomach churning, heart flipping issue of ‘if’. If he made moves to show his attraction to Mal, would the captain reject him?
“I somehow doubt Mal would want that.”
Simon doubted Mal would be cruel enough to laugh but he thought it probable that he’d get an odd look and Mal backing off if he told him, which would be the best response. Worse would be pity.
“I think maybe you’d be surprised.” Inara stood up, helping Simon to his feet where normally he’d be helping her and the doctor was too busy musing on that, so focused on buttoning his shirt that he missed the footsteps behind him.
“Surprised?” Mal’s voice was mocking, his lips narrowed as he sauntered up, arms folded in front of him. “Now, what would anyone have to be surprised over? ‘Cept perhaps by my medic half-undressed in a place that’s seen more sex than Jayne’s bunk.”
“Mal.” Inara’s voice was tight, “I believe this is my shuttle? Who I chose to entertain is none of your concern.”
She really could have worded that better. Had Simon been thinking, rather than focusing on hastily buttoning his shirt, he may have wondered if her words were purposefully spoken. He doubted Inara’s earlier words were true, given that Mal looked jealous enough to start throwing things around despite his neutral expression.
“I should go,”
“That you should.” Mal was looking from one to the other, scowl all the deeper as if he’d caught them breaking one of his rules rather than one that Inara set up and stuck too. “River’s taken an odd turn, thought she’d put them behind her but this is gorramn close to a tantrum. Set her in the infirmary, got Jayne guardin‘ her.”
River…ai ya. Simon closed his eyes, unable to contemplate what could have happened. She’d been so well for so long that the idea of her becoming ill again terrified him. Moving carefully to one side, he passed the captain, ignoring the scowl thrown his way. “Thank you.” He nodded to Inara.
Leaving Mal spluttering behind him, muttering something Simon didn’t dwell on, the doctor made his way as quickly as painful walking would allow. Friction of material against his bruised buttocks, forced him to clench his teeth together as he moved quicker, knowing that if he wasn’t so worried about his sister he’d have found his cock swelling at the sensation.
******
Mal’s fingers were itching again, for a completely different reason than the night before. Interested annoyance had pushed at him to step forward when he caught the words ‘surprised’ coming from Inara, replaced by the possessive jealousy which flooded him at seeing her help Simon up, the doctor buttoning his shirt.
Duh liou mahng.
Clenching his fists, he was now regretting entering the shuttle unannounced, his glower only deepening as Simon moved stiffly away. The rigid movements making Mal only to aware of Jayne’s crude words from earlier, his jeer at the doctor.
“Been rutted senseless there doc, always knew you leant more on the side of sly.”
Simon hadn’t denied the words, just ignored them, which had set Mal in a fair foul mood, ignoring everything and everyone. After being plagued by dreams of said doctor all night, the idea that Simon had sought intimacy in another man’s arms made Mal beyond furious. Mostly at himself, though he couldn’t stop his anger leeching out and affecting everyone else.
“Mal.” Inara’s word was softer now as she touched his arm, but he jerked away. New and unfamiliar anger that she had been making moves on Simon rose in him, making his words more biting.
“Thought you weren’t servicing crew?”
“Oh, you are one of the most arrogant, aggravating-” She bit down on her lips, cutting off her words as she slapped him hard on his shoulder actually drawing an ‘ow’ in its viciousness. “Go after him!”
Mutely he glared at her for good measure, eye to eye, neither one surrendering in their matching stubbornness before he turned on his heel, much like the night before and stormed out, leaving her rolling her eyes after him.
He didn’t catch Simon up, worry over his sister probably pushing Simon to move faster than his aches would have liked, the thought of his loyalty sitting well with Mal even as his scowl deepened over the memory of what could have caused the ache.
Oh, ma de Catching sight of River struggling with Simon, the doctor attempting to hold her down on the bed as her hands swept for scalpels or needles or something sharp that lay on the steel tray near her, Mal felt his heart leap into his throat. “Thought she was gettin’ better!” He growled out the words to Simon as he helped hold her, the speculation at why River wasn’t spouting crazy talk as she once had coming to mind briefly .
“She is, was..I don’t know.” Simon was wincing, making Mal grip at River’s shoulders and hold her until her wriggling subsided and she lay docile, silently watching them. Releasing her shoulders, satisfied the crazy was passed, Mal stepped back, looking Simon up and down.
“This best not interfere with yer doctorin’, can’t have my medic gettin’ some play an’ bein’ incapacitated for days after.” His words were deliberately scathing, making Simon stiffen and then flinch, Mal felt a slight satisfaction that he was hurting too.
Wait, since when am I givin’ a damn about the doc ruttin’ with someone else?
“I can assure you this is the one and only time, captain.” Simon’s words were close to mocking in Mal’s mind, though the regret that flitted across his face had the captain curious.
Both were so focused on the other, that neither noticed the gleam in River’s eye, her moves calculated as she sat bolt upright, Simon reaching her before Mal did. Grabbing at Simon’s shirt, she pulled at it wrestling with her brother as he tried calming her with words and motions.
“Gorramn it, Simon, I-” Mal paused in his step forward to help, eyes drawn to the doctor’s rising shirt, pulled up slightly by River’s tugging motions though Simon’s concentration was too centred on her to notice its rise. But Mal saw it, noticing the bruise on Simon’s back, purple colored welt that arced up Simon’s back, the smallest part visible but suggestion of more underneath the material of his shirt.
“Simon?” Mal breathed out the question, the man’s name almost a groan as Simon rose with a wince onto his toes, pulled forward by River’s motions, waistline of his pants dropping down the tiniest bit to give hint of the design so close to his hip. Adorning his skin, unmarred and unmarked, Just as I intended.
Mal couldn’t drag his eyes away, River still in her actions, pout on her lips as she stared at him Then he saw it, the hint of mischief in her eyes before she smiled, lips moving over one singsong word.
“Matchmaker.”
Simon may have been oblivious up to that point of his sister’s cunning but now he let go of her, frowned down at her in confusion, her name spoken softly, bewilderment clear.
Simon, was Simon all along Now his brain had caught up with the revelation, now River sat quietly looking at him and swinging her legs, Mal could finally let what he felt dictate. What he wanted be true. He hoped, rather than knew that River was right, that what he’d taken a chance that he had heard the night before was true. That Simon had cried out his name at the moment of release, had been imagining his master to be Mal as much as Mal imagined his slave to be Simon.
“I dare say you are.” Mal licked his dry lips as Simon turned towards him, confusion verging on annoyance at the sudden turn of events.
“Captain-”
“Not me!” River sang the words out, pushing herself off the bed, “Just can’t see for looking. “ She sighed, pausing in her walk to the door. “You both just need so much attention.” Leaving her words cryptic, at least to the doctor, who Mal could see was growing more annoyed by the moment, she waltzed from the room, only poking her head back around to add with a sniff, “Don't be stupid, now.”
“Mal!” Simon looked every inch wound up, exasperation obvious as Mal grasped his arm, forestalling whatever questions or tirades that were about to be let loose, his name coming once more, though more questioning. “Mal?”
“Your bunk, now.” Mal couldn’t speak what he had to say in the open infirmary, couldn’t sound his words out right or do just what Simon was tempting him too. Obedient for once, discounting the night before of course, Simon gave him an odd look but moved towards his bunk. Shoulders slumped, Simon didn’t hide the confusion he felt from River’s odd behaviour and Mal’s demand, but evidently resigned himself to be raked over coals for his own behavior.
The bunk was small, tension making Simon shift in front of him, the doctor’s gaze never once leaving his face, not once looking down in shame as if regretting the night before or thinking up a lie.
“Seems like recently there’s been plenty of folk hintin’ things at me, things I musta missed or just have chosen not to be seein’.” Mal watched confusion grow in Simon’s eyes, keeping his focus firmly on the doctor, a small thrill at the possibility he was right moving through him as he saw hope flare for a moment at his last sentence. “Things I thought on having, on taking a chance on but never came close to doing. ‘Til now.”
“I don’t-”
Mal cut Simon off mid sentence with a kiss, lips pressing firmly over Simon‘s, ignoring the words and guessing that Simon was just afraid they could be true, worried of reading more like Mal had. But the doctor wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t kissing back much either, probably in shock or stunned. Mal parted lips to push his tongue against Simon’s, feel them open enough to slide it inside and possessively claim his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Tongue tangling with Simon’s as he found the doctor kissing back, so caught up in the moment, in the having, that they had to pull away for breath.
“That was…unexpected.” Simon struggled to find a suitable word to describe what he felt, unaware that his expression showed more than he might have liked. Heart worn upon his sleeve when he was surprised into showing it.
“’S not the only thing that is.” Unexpected as Simon might have found it, he wasn’t backing away, wasn’t looking like he hadn’t enjoyed it. Can’t really deny he did when his body’s givin’ him away. Mal stepped forward, hand on Simon’s buttons, moving to undo though Simon’s hands were there a second later nervously batting them away.
“No, I can’t. I mean, we can…not right now?” He looked panicked, Simon still not realizing just what it was Mal found unexpected and was knowing. Self-loathing flashing in his eyes for a moment, regret and confusion not following far behind as the doctor went from one extreme to another. Not regretting the night, unable to do so and to push away the thrill of arousal that each movement made, each chafing moment gave him. But cursing his bad luck that this day, worst day he could possibly get a chance with Mal, would be the one he was too sore and marked up to do so.
“Right now.” Mal caught Simon’s hand, “Don’t be hidin’ yourself from me, got no need, not now.”
“I really think there’s every need-” Simon was pulling back, glancing to his door like some magic excuse for delaying would suddenly appear. Mal had to wonder if he was slightly sadistic, or perhaps psychotic, teasing the man in this way. Time for that’s long passed.
“Don’t like that you're bruised, don’t like that you're hurtin’.” Simon was frozen now, eyes wide as he stared at Mal, making the captain flush slightly at the intense look. Got the smarts, Simon, put it all together. “But like that you're wearin’ my marks, no one else’s.”
There was the moment, the moment when horror briefly flared at the implication Mal knew just what he’d been up to the night before, pushed roughly aside by the starting revelation that Mal knew because he’d been there. Been there and been…
“Master?” It wasn’t part of the game that Simon spoke it for, more needing the confirmation.
Mal nodded, hand stroking down Simon’s back to rest on the swell of his buttocks, feeling heat radiate through Simon’s pants as he flinched-but didn’t pull away. “That’s one word for me.”
“And the others?” Simon was more daring now, confidence coming back. Not the slave from the night before but the man he truly was.
“Captain…” Mal shrugged, deliberately obtuse for a moment. “Mal…an’ I can conjure a few less than favorable ones you’re thinkin’ right now.” He leaned closer, shifting so Simon’s weight was almost resting against him, “Would be hopin’ lover might come to your mind though.”
“It-it was a consideration.” Simon was smiling, making himself all the more kissable.
“That’s a good sign.” Mal weighed an idea for a moment, hand resting on Simon’s buttock pulled off to suddenly slap back down on the abused flesh, making Simon start, cross between a yelp and a groan catching on his lips when Mal rocked forward, thigh moving between Simon’s legs to grind against him. “Been owin’ you that from last night, forgot to call me master one last time.”
Simon was worrying his lower lip, eyes half closed as Mal’s hand caressed his smarting buttocks, “And you didn’t correct me then because?”
“’Cause then I’d have been too tempted to just leave you be.” Mal grinned, “Thinkin’ there’s lots we could be doin’ right now save talkin’. Want to get a good look at those welts too, put somethin’ on them to get them healing ‘til next time.”
“Next time?” Simon echoed his words as Mal stepped back, turning to grasp the door of the bunk.
“Next time, ‘less of course you want to be the one to take me in hand, change the rules some?” Mal glanced back at him fiddling with the door before pulling it shut, cock twitching in anticipation when he turned to Simon, seeing the assured smile, heard the confident tone that had him wondering if they could pick up some toys before flying off.
“Oh, I’m sure we could negotiate something.”
Translation:
Duh liou mahng - son of a bitch