Fic: A Fight of Some Kind (Firefly, Mal/Jayne)
Still not here, but this was due. Hi!
Title: A Fight of Some Kind
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Mal/Jayne
Rating: hard R for sex and language
Spoilers/Continuity: post-Serenity.
Summary: When Mal gets angry, Jayne gets laid.
Word count: about 800
Disclaimers: Firefly and Serenity are the intellectual property of Mutant Enemy. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this Livejournal post. This story is a labor of love, not money, so it's protected in the USA by the fair use provisions of the Copyright Act of 1976. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. And fuck you, too.
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy for the speed beta. Written for the Jayne round of maleslashminis for alizarin_nyc, who wanted hot sex, Chinese swearing, and "some kind of fight."
*
Making-up sex was just about the best thing in the 'verse. Only way Jayne could get Mal to fuck him this hard was to work him into a lather, get him shouting and waving wrenches around, making empty threats. Jayne reckoned Mal liked being angry. Folks had places their hearts liked to be, and Mal's liked to be rioting mad. At the 'verse, the Alliance, Inara or Simon, his own self. Whatever was most convenient. Ever since that surprise first time, down in the cargo bay after a job had gone wrong for reasons having nothing to do with Jayne's marksmanship, Jayne had connived to be convenient. It got him rutted, and Jayne'd learned to ask as few questions as possible when sex was on offer. Mal wasn't bad to look at, and they didn't do a whole lot of looking at each other anyhow, most of the time.
So Jayne did what he could to get Mal mad as a penned bull. Said inappropriate things at the supper table, did his chores half-assed or not at all, baited River and teased Kaylee and made remarks disrespectful of Wash's memory. Childish stuff, the kind of misbehavior got him kicked out of school in the first place. Mal did his part and waited 'til they were alone to set off the fireworks. And it was the same fireworks show every time, Mal shouting and cursing and Jayne shouting and cursing right back until some switch flipped in both of them and they were tearing each other out of their pants, grappling on the bed for purchase and dominance, settling the fight with whoever wound up on top. Standing up after, wiping their hands on their shirts and promising it wouldn't never happen again. From then on, Jayne would toe the line, or Mal wouldn't get so riled up. Each promise a reminder that there wasn't a possibility of neither one.
Problem was, same way Mal's heart strove towards anger, Jayne's strove towards either freedom or selfishness, depending on whether a person wanted to spin it positive or negative. Wanting more, wanting better, knowing that all sharing meant was he got less in the end. Now, Jayne had eyes, and he had memories, and contrary to some people's opinions even a brain to think with, and all them things together had seen in his time on Serenity that sometimes it was worth silencing his greedy heart for the sureness of a warm bed and a full belly. But always he felt his heart nagging at him, gnawing for more, better, all his, and every so often it got the better of him. He went to Mal's bunk the night before they were scheduled to touch down on Persephone and said, calm and smirkless as he could muster, "I'm fixin' to leave after this job, Mal."
"Like hell you are," Mal said.
"I ain't joking," Jayne said. "I done had enough of this lou dong de boat. I got me some options, you know."
"Sure you have some options," Mal said. "You have the option of loading them three hundred crates of sheep feed, and then you have the option of standing around looking menacing so Jaeger pays us our advance."
"Mal, you ain't hearing me, I --"
"Oh, I reckon I'm hearing you just fine, Jayne. You're in the mood for a blow job, thought you'd pull out the big guns."
"I -- Mal --"
"You think I ain't gotten wise to you, Jayne? You get me riled up as you can, start my blood pumping, and then you kindly and apologetically let me have my way with you."
"Ain't found no other way of getting your attention," Jayne said.
"There might not even be one," Mal said.
"Thought you were trying to keep me on this boat," Jayne said.
Mal sighed the way folks do when they got a piece to speak but they ain't sure what words are in it. "Zhu hou zi de pi gu de xing wei, qing ting," he said. "There ain't no way I'm ever going to stop being sore at you. Not so long as you're on this boat, maybe not ever. You've gone and made me want you." He'd been advancing on Jayne as he made his speech, and he punctuated his last few words by backing Jayne up against the wall, trapping him there. "You big, dumb, pretty thing."
Jayne let himself be kissed. He felt up Mal's shirt for the heavy rhythm of his breath and down his pants for the eager swell of his cock. And he thought, more, better, all mine.
Title: A Fight of Some Kind
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Mal/Jayne
Rating: hard R for sex and language
Spoilers/Continuity: post-Serenity.
Summary: When Mal gets angry, Jayne gets laid.
Word count: about 800
Disclaimers: Firefly and Serenity are the intellectual property of Mutant Enemy. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License; attribution should include a link to this Livejournal post. This story is a labor of love, not money, so it's protected in the USA by the fair use provisions of the Copyright Act of 1976. All rights reserved. All wrongs reversed. And fuck you, too.
Notes: Thanks to callmesandy for the speed beta. Written for the Jayne round of maleslashminis for alizarin_nyc, who wanted hot sex, Chinese swearing, and "some kind of fight."
*
Making-up sex was just about the best thing in the 'verse. Only way Jayne could get Mal to fuck him this hard was to work him into a lather, get him shouting and waving wrenches around, making empty threats. Jayne reckoned Mal liked being angry. Folks had places their hearts liked to be, and Mal's liked to be rioting mad. At the 'verse, the Alliance, Inara or Simon, his own self. Whatever was most convenient. Ever since that surprise first time, down in the cargo bay after a job had gone wrong for reasons having nothing to do with Jayne's marksmanship, Jayne had connived to be convenient. It got him rutted, and Jayne'd learned to ask as few questions as possible when sex was on offer. Mal wasn't bad to look at, and they didn't do a whole lot of looking at each other anyhow, most of the time.
So Jayne did what he could to get Mal mad as a penned bull. Said inappropriate things at the supper table, did his chores half-assed or not at all, baited River and teased Kaylee and made remarks disrespectful of Wash's memory. Childish stuff, the kind of misbehavior got him kicked out of school in the first place. Mal did his part and waited 'til they were alone to set off the fireworks. And it was the same fireworks show every time, Mal shouting and cursing and Jayne shouting and cursing right back until some switch flipped in both of them and they were tearing each other out of their pants, grappling on the bed for purchase and dominance, settling the fight with whoever wound up on top. Standing up after, wiping their hands on their shirts and promising it wouldn't never happen again. From then on, Jayne would toe the line, or Mal wouldn't get so riled up. Each promise a reminder that there wasn't a possibility of neither one.
Problem was, same way Mal's heart strove towards anger, Jayne's strove towards either freedom or selfishness, depending on whether a person wanted to spin it positive or negative. Wanting more, wanting better, knowing that all sharing meant was he got less in the end. Now, Jayne had eyes, and he had memories, and contrary to some people's opinions even a brain to think with, and all them things together had seen in his time on Serenity that sometimes it was worth silencing his greedy heart for the sureness of a warm bed and a full belly. But always he felt his heart nagging at him, gnawing for more, better, all his, and every so often it got the better of him. He went to Mal's bunk the night before they were scheduled to touch down on Persephone and said, calm and smirkless as he could muster, "I'm fixin' to leave after this job, Mal."
"Like hell you are," Mal said.
"I ain't joking," Jayne said. "I done had enough of this lou dong de boat. I got me some options, you know."
"Sure you have some options," Mal said. "You have the option of loading them three hundred crates of sheep feed, and then you have the option of standing around looking menacing so Jaeger pays us our advance."
"Mal, you ain't hearing me, I --"
"Oh, I reckon I'm hearing you just fine, Jayne. You're in the mood for a blow job, thought you'd pull out the big guns."
"I -- Mal --"
"You think I ain't gotten wise to you, Jayne? You get me riled up as you can, start my blood pumping, and then you kindly and apologetically let me have my way with you."
"Ain't found no other way of getting your attention," Jayne said.
"There might not even be one," Mal said.
"Thought you were trying to keep me on this boat," Jayne said.
Mal sighed the way folks do when they got a piece to speak but they ain't sure what words are in it. "Zhu hou zi de pi gu de xing wei, qing ting," he said. "There ain't no way I'm ever going to stop being sore at you. Not so long as you're on this boat, maybe not ever. You've gone and made me want you." He'd been advancing on Jayne as he made his speech, and he punctuated his last few words by backing Jayne up against the wall, trapping him there. "You big, dumb, pretty thing."
Jayne let himself be kissed. He felt up Mal's shirt for the heavy rhythm of his breath and down his pants for the eager swell of his cock. And he thought, more, better, all mine.