World Falls Away - Part One, Chapter Four
Title: World Falls Away - Part One, Chapter Four
Author: Nari
Pairing: Mal/Wash
Characters: Mal, Wash
Rating: this part, R for non-graphic type stuff, overall R
Summary: The Alliance come to help out the farming community on Shadow.
Notes: The age timeline in this fic is very AU. We're starting off with the boys being around 18 for Wash and 20 for Mal.
Thanks: To lvs2read for the beta! And to wildannuette for the beta and the encouragement.
Part One: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Mal wakes up at five again, sneaking out of his room and even looking both ways along the hall. He pauses briefly outside Wash's room, but he can pick up the sound of a soft snore and relaxes with the knowledge that Wash is still in bed. He has more than enough time to down a bit of breakfast and get out to the branding pens. A bit of hard work will stop his mind turning in circles.
He goes through his usual roster of duties. The other ranch hands are around now; they all know what to do without being told but Mal rounds up the few of them that help with the branding anyway, to tell them they're going to get through the last of the calves today.
Once he's got Sandy out and they're doing the work, his mind shuts off to only the job. He doesn't even realize how much time's been going by until the sun is up bright and hot in the sky, another blazing day and he can feel the sweat pricking along his back.
It's not until late morning that he tells the ranch hands to take a break for an hour, have some lunch, sit in the shade. He looks around him before swinging off Sandy and taking her over for a drink as well. The Alliance still haven't started what they came here for, he notices. They have a lot of planning and legal work to fix up first, can't do anything better than slow.
He kicks himself mentally. He's gotta stop thinking like that. Pa could have been wrong, wasn't like the man had any personal experience that Mal knows of. Ma will be angry if he doesn't give these people a chance and, though he hates to admit to it, maybe they do need a bit of help. Or maybe he just wants to think that if the Alliance aren't that bad then Wash can't be bad, either.
Ten minutes off the horse and not working and he's already thinking on the man.
He leaves Sandy tied by the watering trough, set to go inside where it's a might cooler and get a drink, maybe find out if his ma's made up some lemonade. The thought that Wash could be in there sipping that lemonade stops him, though, and the water from the trough is as cold as anything, anyway. He cups his hands in it and splashes it up into his face, wet fingers running through his hair.
“Hey.” The soft almost inquiry, makes him bolt forward with an unmanly cry. He turns back around, eyes staring wide at an innocent-looking Wash. Would be innocent-looking if he wasn't obviously trying so hard not to laugh. “Sorry.”
Mal lets out a hard breath before glaring. “The hell are you doing? Sneakin' up on a man with a gun?”
Wash raises his hands. “I wasn't sneaking up, you just weren't paying attention.”
Mal thinks Wash might be getting a bit of a tan and immediately looks away, masking the sudden discomfort by grabbing hold of Sandy's reins to untie her. He can't ignore the man when Wash is suddenly pressing up against his back, though, strong hands sliding over his hips and turning Mal to face him. Mal can feel the rough edge of the trough pressing into the middle of his back.
“Wash...” His breath's got no business coming out that husky. Wash doesn't make any moves to either back off or advance and Mal isn't sure how to react to the stillness. “I doubt this is an appropriate way for an Alliance boy to be actin'.”
Wash shrugs and gives Mal an almost coy smile. It makes Mal's knees go a little weak, and he's gotta be entirely transparent, because that's the moment Wash picks to lean into him a little more.
“Thinkin' daddy wouldn't be too pleased.”
“Daddy can go to hell.” Wash says it with a grin so Mal doesn't really believe it.
“Wash,” Mal tries to warn again but he doesn't really believe that either.
“Mal,” Wash returns and he's still not making any move, other than holding Mal's hips and staying pressed in too close. He's still grinning, pink of his tongue peeking through his lips a little, and Mal thinks he knows the perfect way to wipe that look off his face. The smug one that says Wash knows Mal isn't wanting to move away from this, as if Wash knows him all so well after less than two days.
“You're wanting to end up in that trough, son, you don't step back a pace.”
Wash laughs, a noise that's cut off into a wheeze of breath as Mal grabs him, shoulders the kid and tosses him up and over with a splash and hard thunk into the water trough. Wash comes up gasping, hands grasping at the edges of the trough to pull himself out, but Mal's hand is pinning him down by the chest.
“Son of a bitch, Mal! Are you crazy?” Wash rants while one leg kicks out and hooks over the side of the trough.
On second thought, it may not have been the best idea to dump Wash in a tub of cold water. He's wearing a pair of the jeans they picked out yesterday and the heavy denim molds to the shape of his leg. His hair plasters down to his forehead. His shirt clings to the chest that Mal's starting to form a fair amount of obsession with. Which brings the awareness that he's still got his hand pressed down against that chest and Wash is still gasping for breath after the chilling shock of the water.
“Think I might be.”
His hand presses a little more, not trying to dunk Wash back under, but Wash tenses and braces against the hold anyway. He relaxes again when Mal slides his hand over smooth muscles. Smooth until he hits the bump of Wash's nipple, and rubs his palm over it, making Wash close his eyes with a gasp that's not about the cold water.
“Mal.”
He's definitely crazy when he curls his other hand around the back of Wash's neck and pulls Wash up as he leans down to meet him in a kiss. Different than the one Wash dropped on him yesterday. Mal has time to appreciate this one and he ain't pulling back after ten seconds. And it's his tongue invading Wash's mouth when Wash gasps. Not as sweet this time, he can taste the water Wash swallowed when he went down.
Wash is the one taking a few seconds to respond this time, but when he does, Mal can feel Wash's hand gripping and sliding up his arm. He can feel Wash's mouth sliding against his own, Wash's tongue there and pressing.
Mal is still the one to jerk back first. They're both panting for breath, staring at each other in a kind of dazed shock. Mal's not even sure what stopped him until he can hear his ma's voice calling him in the distance, over by the house.
He half stumbles back from Wash, glad Wash is apparently feeling weak enough that his fingers slip away from Mal's arm. Mal looks to the house, back to Wash; his mouth works, but it takes him a second to get the words out. “I gotta...” He thinks he should apologize as Wash elbows himself up in the water. Instead, he gets a little caught with the way the water laps around Wash's biceps and those look stronger than Mal would have originally guessed at, too.
He needs to stop acting like some young bèn dàn.
He shakes his head from the sight, grabs hold of Sandy's reins and swings up onto her. He looks back at Wash just once before taking off in a dead gallop towards the house.
*
His ma wants him to take the fine Alliance folk around the farm. The ranch hands have already marked out where the irrigation ditches are supposed to go, even got them started sometime last year, just never had the time or free manpower to keep going. Now they have it, Mal just has to show them where the ditches are and tell them what they want done.
It ruins his plans of cattle branding, but it also gives him an even better distraction from Wash. He can't think about feeling the man against him when Wash's dad is right beside him, asking questions and looking stern behind the easy-going mask he's wearing. Maybe Wash's rebellion is rubbing off on him a bit because Mal just can't make himself be anything but distantly polite to the Major.
By the time they're done, and Mal has shown them all the key spots - having to listen to the Major go on about high-tech Alliance equipment that would have had the job done in a third of the time - it's growing dark and Mal is exhausted. He’s only had a quick break to eat, making lunch for himself and the Major, but that was hours ago and now it's way past dinner.
The horses come first, though, and he moves to the barn. The Major, and the two men he'd brought with him, dismount and leave the work for Mal. Like he's a common stable hand, but Mal bites his tongue as he sets to getting the horses groomed and back in their stalls. The Major says he's missed riding horses, nice to get back up on them, since he used to go a lot as a kid. Mal bets the Major never took care of his own animal back then, either.
He pats Sandy's neck, listening to the rumble of her belly. “Yeah. ‘M hungry, too. Get you set up in just a few minutes.”
“Glad I'm not the only one that talks to them.”
This time, Mal hides his startle at the sudden sound of Wash's voice. He glances to the man from the corner of his eye, before going back to pulling the saddle from the horse's back. “You're gettin' a little too good at that.”
Wash's eyebrows lift. “What, the sneaking up? You're just preoccupied. Want some help?”
Mal snorts, moving with the saddle to shove it onto one of the stands. “You even know what to do?”
“I'm a fast learner.”
“I think I got it covered.” He moves on to unsaddling the last horse.
Wash sighs, soft enough though Mal can still hear it, and he wonders if there's some genuine hurt in there. “You're acting like a hún dàn, Mal.”
Mal looks over to where Wash is standing, just inside the entrance to the barn. He runs his hand through his hair. He should be telling Wash to head back to the house, Mal can have this done within twenty minutes on his own. Wash looks eager though, wanting to help, and Mal puts his own mood down to a hard day.
“You can put food in for them. Hay's over there. This much.” He shows with his hands apart and Wash grins before moving to do as he’s told. “There's a hose there, too, fill up their buckets.”
They work in silence for a few minutes. Mal brushes the horses out and Wash stumbles over his own feet a few times. Mal's waiting for it to come, and once the last horse is in and every one is taken care of, it does. Only it's him that does it, starts up the contact by touching Wash's arm. Just meant it to get Wash's attention while the man was talking again to Ben or Big Dog, as Wash has taken to calling him. Mal’s hand slides down though, fingers hook in the cuff of the shirt Wash is wearing, changed from earlier, another piece of clothing that they'd bought the day before.
Wash turns to him and Mal must be closer than he'd thought because their clothes are brushing together and, a second later, their mouths are brushing together as well. Mal forgets he's had a long day, forgets he's hungry. Forgets that just yesterday the whole idea of this made him uncomfortable. He nudges Wash back against Big Dog's stall door, sliding his hand back up Wash's arm.
The kiss is different again. It's a surprise but not, it's almost stuttered and, Mal hesitates to think, romantic. They're in a barn with horses...it's definitely not romantic. There's no urgency though; Wash's lips brush against his own, pull away and come right back. He leans against the door behind him, his hand holds Mal's waist and the other runs over Mal's chest.
Mal thinks it must be awhile, but he's lost track of time again, before Wash's mouth even closes over his properly and Wash's tongue is teasing between his lips. It makes Mal moan, a noise he thinks should be embarrassing, but Wash must like it since his hand tightens over Mal's waist. Wash gives one of his own when Mal presses forward against him, rests his hips against Wash's so that Wash's thighs part and Mal's leg is somehow between them.
“Oh God...” Mal breathes when they part. They've gotten pressed close enough that each breath brings their chests to rub together.
Wash chuckles and somehow, both of Wash's hands have got around to pressing against Mal's back. He runs them down, until his fingers are splaying out against the swell of Mal's backside. Mal moans softly again and drops his head forward, his lips finding Wash's neck to run along the column of his throat.
Wash's hands slide further, cupping and rocking Mal's hips forward. Bringing up another reaction, one that curls low in Mal's belly, one he can feel echoing through Wash when he rubs his thigh up between Wash’s legs. Wash's cheek nudges against his head, breathless “Mal” bringing Mal's lips back up to cover Wash's again. Silence the little noises Wash has started to make as he rocks them together.
“Mal... Mal, wait,” Wash talks against the kiss, his hands leaving Mal's rear and pushing lightly at his shoulders. Mal feels a rush of irritation at being stopped or paused or whatever Wash is doing. The way Wash grins at him when he pulls back, though, tempers it. “I need to, ah, lie down or something before I fall over.”
Mal frowns for a moment. His brain isn't so keen on making sense of anything other than the ache between his legs or the way Wash feels against him. Getting off their feet, though, could be a damn fine idea. His own legs are feeling more than a bit weak, he's leaning most of his weight against Wash and the stall door can't feel comfortable against the man's back.
He looks around for a moment, before pushing off of Wash with a nod. “Yeah. Just...” He trails off and steps away from Wash, grabbing a couple of the clean horse blankets to toss them onto the pile of straw they use for bedding. He makes a grand gesture. “Makeshift bed, just for you.”
Wash leers at him, pushing off the stall door to advance. “Just for me?”
“Well, maybe-” he cuts off when Wash is on him again, mouth taking his and this time it's a lot more like the earlier kiss, with Wash's tongue right in his mouth while Wash pushes him back and down to the blankets. Mal gasps, glad for the cushioning of the straw, even more glad for the blankets laid over it, as he goes down a little too hard and Wash is there on top of him.
His hands cradle the back of Wash's head, their legs tangling together, one looped behind Wash's and the other bent up between the man's thighs. They both moan. Mal has time to think how this is so much better than using his own hand before Wash is pressing his thigh up, encouraging Mal to thrust against the leg pressed between his.
It's the last coherent thought he has until he's gasping, going still and he can feel the heat and stickiness in his jeans. A second later and he can feel it against the leg that's pressed to Wash as the other man follows him over. It's still a long while before either of them can speak in a steady voice, heat cooling off their still-clothed bodies and mess drying in their pants. He's not going to be able to sneak into his room without someone noticing.
He can't help but flush a bit red at the thought, and it doesn't help when Wash's hand touches the side of his face. “Now's not the time to get embarrassed.”
Mal glares but can't hold it, not when Wash's hand has slipped down the side of his neck, palm pressed to his skin so that Mal can feel his pulse thump against Wash's hand. Wash's fingers curl to play with the hair at the back of his neck. “Ain't embarrassed.” Wash gives a disbelieving look. “Screw you, gorramn purplebelly.” Mal shoves at Wash's hip, but it's light and good-natured.
Wash rolls his eyes. “That's romantic.”
“That what this is?” Mal jokes, but underneath that he's unsure, curious what Wash is thinking. Curious what he's thinking, too. His hand gives up on trying to provoke Wash and trails along his thigh, instead. “Some kinda romance?”
Wash rolls himself off of Mal and onto his side, propped up on his elbow to keep looking down so Mal doesn't have to lose sight of those blue eyes. Their legs stay tangled and Mal moves with him some to stay close. “I don't know,” Wash finally answers.
“Ain't never done this before.” And he can say that admitting to that is embarrassing, bringing the red back to his cheeks, not as dark as it wants to be when he forces it away. “You?” He wants Wash to say no, the same time it might be kind of nice if one of them knew sort of what was going on.
“Sure,” Wash says then quickly amends. “Once.”
Mal leans in to kiss Wash, he doesn't see that there's a lot holding him back now, and Wash accepts it with a smile Mal can feel against his lips. “We should get back to the house, before someone comes out here lookin' an' finds us like this. Not that I'm ashamed of you or nothin'.” He grins and his eyes wander down Wash's body. “Not thinkin' our parents'll be too happy, though.”
Wash sneers a little but he agrees because he gets up to his feet, brushes some of the straw dust off himself and lends Mal a hand up. “I'm betting you could do just about anything and your mom would be fine with it.”
“Probably so.” Mal starts the walk back to the house. It's near fully dark outside now, and he can feel the heat of Wash close beside him in the cool of the night. He can't help being pleased that it's probably true. His mom would probably look at him, shake her head and smile. His dad would have had a few things to say about it, on the other hand. Ain't no way his son would ever look twice at some Alliance. Man or woman, didn't matter. Alliance mattered. “Just like I'm betting you're doing this at least partially to piss your old man off.”
Wash looks falsely offended. “Not entirely. You had a lot to do with it, too.”
They both laugh and, whether Wash means that or not, Mal can't find it in him to take offense. He's still tired and, even if he hadn't been hungry before, he is now. The first thing he does, though, is slip into the bathroom, intent on a shower. Wash heads off to his room, Mal can hear the man whistling to himself down the hallway.
Part One - Chapter Five
Author: Nari
Pairing: Mal/Wash
Characters: Mal, Wash
Rating: this part, R for non-graphic type stuff, overall R
Summary: The Alliance come to help out the farming community on Shadow.
Notes: The age timeline in this fic is very AU. We're starting off with the boys being around 18 for Wash and 20 for Mal.
Thanks: To lvs2read for the beta! And to wildannuette for the beta and the encouragement.
Part One: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Mal wakes up at five again, sneaking out of his room and even looking both ways along the hall. He pauses briefly outside Wash's room, but he can pick up the sound of a soft snore and relaxes with the knowledge that Wash is still in bed. He has more than enough time to down a bit of breakfast and get out to the branding pens. A bit of hard work will stop his mind turning in circles.
He goes through his usual roster of duties. The other ranch hands are around now; they all know what to do without being told but Mal rounds up the few of them that help with the branding anyway, to tell them they're going to get through the last of the calves today.
Once he's got Sandy out and they're doing the work, his mind shuts off to only the job. He doesn't even realize how much time's been going by until the sun is up bright and hot in the sky, another blazing day and he can feel the sweat pricking along his back.
It's not until late morning that he tells the ranch hands to take a break for an hour, have some lunch, sit in the shade. He looks around him before swinging off Sandy and taking her over for a drink as well. The Alliance still haven't started what they came here for, he notices. They have a lot of planning and legal work to fix up first, can't do anything better than slow.
He kicks himself mentally. He's gotta stop thinking like that. Pa could have been wrong, wasn't like the man had any personal experience that Mal knows of. Ma will be angry if he doesn't give these people a chance and, though he hates to admit to it, maybe they do need a bit of help. Or maybe he just wants to think that if the Alliance aren't that bad then Wash can't be bad, either.
Ten minutes off the horse and not working and he's already thinking on the man.
He leaves Sandy tied by the watering trough, set to go inside where it's a might cooler and get a drink, maybe find out if his ma's made up some lemonade. The thought that Wash could be in there sipping that lemonade stops him, though, and the water from the trough is as cold as anything, anyway. He cups his hands in it and splashes it up into his face, wet fingers running through his hair.
“Hey.” The soft almost inquiry, makes him bolt forward with an unmanly cry. He turns back around, eyes staring wide at an innocent-looking Wash. Would be innocent-looking if he wasn't obviously trying so hard not to laugh. “Sorry.”
Mal lets out a hard breath before glaring. “The hell are you doing? Sneakin' up on a man with a gun?”
Wash raises his hands. “I wasn't sneaking up, you just weren't paying attention.”
Mal thinks Wash might be getting a bit of a tan and immediately looks away, masking the sudden discomfort by grabbing hold of Sandy's reins to untie her. He can't ignore the man when Wash is suddenly pressing up against his back, though, strong hands sliding over his hips and turning Mal to face him. Mal can feel the rough edge of the trough pressing into the middle of his back.
“Wash...” His breath's got no business coming out that husky. Wash doesn't make any moves to either back off or advance and Mal isn't sure how to react to the stillness. “I doubt this is an appropriate way for an Alliance boy to be actin'.”
Wash shrugs and gives Mal an almost coy smile. It makes Mal's knees go a little weak, and he's gotta be entirely transparent, because that's the moment Wash picks to lean into him a little more.
“Thinkin' daddy wouldn't be too pleased.”
“Daddy can go to hell.” Wash says it with a grin so Mal doesn't really believe it.
“Wash,” Mal tries to warn again but he doesn't really believe that either.
“Mal,” Wash returns and he's still not making any move, other than holding Mal's hips and staying pressed in too close. He's still grinning, pink of his tongue peeking through his lips a little, and Mal thinks he knows the perfect way to wipe that look off his face. The smug one that says Wash knows Mal isn't wanting to move away from this, as if Wash knows him all so well after less than two days.
“You're wanting to end up in that trough, son, you don't step back a pace.”
Wash laughs, a noise that's cut off into a wheeze of breath as Mal grabs him, shoulders the kid and tosses him up and over with a splash and hard thunk into the water trough. Wash comes up gasping, hands grasping at the edges of the trough to pull himself out, but Mal's hand is pinning him down by the chest.
“Son of a bitch, Mal! Are you crazy?” Wash rants while one leg kicks out and hooks over the side of the trough.
On second thought, it may not have been the best idea to dump Wash in a tub of cold water. He's wearing a pair of the jeans they picked out yesterday and the heavy denim molds to the shape of his leg. His hair plasters down to his forehead. His shirt clings to the chest that Mal's starting to form a fair amount of obsession with. Which brings the awareness that he's still got his hand pressed down against that chest and Wash is still gasping for breath after the chilling shock of the water.
“Think I might be.”
His hand presses a little more, not trying to dunk Wash back under, but Wash tenses and braces against the hold anyway. He relaxes again when Mal slides his hand over smooth muscles. Smooth until he hits the bump of Wash's nipple, and rubs his palm over it, making Wash close his eyes with a gasp that's not about the cold water.
“Mal.”
He's definitely crazy when he curls his other hand around the back of Wash's neck and pulls Wash up as he leans down to meet him in a kiss. Different than the one Wash dropped on him yesterday. Mal has time to appreciate this one and he ain't pulling back after ten seconds. And it's his tongue invading Wash's mouth when Wash gasps. Not as sweet this time, he can taste the water Wash swallowed when he went down.
Wash is the one taking a few seconds to respond this time, but when he does, Mal can feel Wash's hand gripping and sliding up his arm. He can feel Wash's mouth sliding against his own, Wash's tongue there and pressing.
Mal is still the one to jerk back first. They're both panting for breath, staring at each other in a kind of dazed shock. Mal's not even sure what stopped him until he can hear his ma's voice calling him in the distance, over by the house.
He half stumbles back from Wash, glad Wash is apparently feeling weak enough that his fingers slip away from Mal's arm. Mal looks to the house, back to Wash; his mouth works, but it takes him a second to get the words out. “I gotta...” He thinks he should apologize as Wash elbows himself up in the water. Instead, he gets a little caught with the way the water laps around Wash's biceps and those look stronger than Mal would have originally guessed at, too.
He needs to stop acting like some young bèn dàn.
He shakes his head from the sight, grabs hold of Sandy's reins and swings up onto her. He looks back at Wash just once before taking off in a dead gallop towards the house.
*
His ma wants him to take the fine Alliance folk around the farm. The ranch hands have already marked out where the irrigation ditches are supposed to go, even got them started sometime last year, just never had the time or free manpower to keep going. Now they have it, Mal just has to show them where the ditches are and tell them what they want done.
It ruins his plans of cattle branding, but it also gives him an even better distraction from Wash. He can't think about feeling the man against him when Wash's dad is right beside him, asking questions and looking stern behind the easy-going mask he's wearing. Maybe Wash's rebellion is rubbing off on him a bit because Mal just can't make himself be anything but distantly polite to the Major.
By the time they're done, and Mal has shown them all the key spots - having to listen to the Major go on about high-tech Alliance equipment that would have had the job done in a third of the time - it's growing dark and Mal is exhausted. He’s only had a quick break to eat, making lunch for himself and the Major, but that was hours ago and now it's way past dinner.
The horses come first, though, and he moves to the barn. The Major, and the two men he'd brought with him, dismount and leave the work for Mal. Like he's a common stable hand, but Mal bites his tongue as he sets to getting the horses groomed and back in their stalls. The Major says he's missed riding horses, nice to get back up on them, since he used to go a lot as a kid. Mal bets the Major never took care of his own animal back then, either.
He pats Sandy's neck, listening to the rumble of her belly. “Yeah. ‘M hungry, too. Get you set up in just a few minutes.”
“Glad I'm not the only one that talks to them.”
This time, Mal hides his startle at the sudden sound of Wash's voice. He glances to the man from the corner of his eye, before going back to pulling the saddle from the horse's back. “You're gettin' a little too good at that.”
Wash's eyebrows lift. “What, the sneaking up? You're just preoccupied. Want some help?”
Mal snorts, moving with the saddle to shove it onto one of the stands. “You even know what to do?”
“I'm a fast learner.”
“I think I got it covered.” He moves on to unsaddling the last horse.
Wash sighs, soft enough though Mal can still hear it, and he wonders if there's some genuine hurt in there. “You're acting like a hún dàn, Mal.”
Mal looks over to where Wash is standing, just inside the entrance to the barn. He runs his hand through his hair. He should be telling Wash to head back to the house, Mal can have this done within twenty minutes on his own. Wash looks eager though, wanting to help, and Mal puts his own mood down to a hard day.
“You can put food in for them. Hay's over there. This much.” He shows with his hands apart and Wash grins before moving to do as he’s told. “There's a hose there, too, fill up their buckets.”
They work in silence for a few minutes. Mal brushes the horses out and Wash stumbles over his own feet a few times. Mal's waiting for it to come, and once the last horse is in and every one is taken care of, it does. Only it's him that does it, starts up the contact by touching Wash's arm. Just meant it to get Wash's attention while the man was talking again to Ben or Big Dog, as Wash has taken to calling him. Mal’s hand slides down though, fingers hook in the cuff of the shirt Wash is wearing, changed from earlier, another piece of clothing that they'd bought the day before.
Wash turns to him and Mal must be closer than he'd thought because their clothes are brushing together and, a second later, their mouths are brushing together as well. Mal forgets he's had a long day, forgets he's hungry. Forgets that just yesterday the whole idea of this made him uncomfortable. He nudges Wash back against Big Dog's stall door, sliding his hand back up Wash's arm.
The kiss is different again. It's a surprise but not, it's almost stuttered and, Mal hesitates to think, romantic. They're in a barn with horses...it's definitely not romantic. There's no urgency though; Wash's lips brush against his own, pull away and come right back. He leans against the door behind him, his hand holds Mal's waist and the other runs over Mal's chest.
Mal thinks it must be awhile, but he's lost track of time again, before Wash's mouth even closes over his properly and Wash's tongue is teasing between his lips. It makes Mal moan, a noise he thinks should be embarrassing, but Wash must like it since his hand tightens over Mal's waist. Wash gives one of his own when Mal presses forward against him, rests his hips against Wash's so that Wash's thighs part and Mal's leg is somehow between them.
“Oh God...” Mal breathes when they part. They've gotten pressed close enough that each breath brings their chests to rub together.
Wash chuckles and somehow, both of Wash's hands have got around to pressing against Mal's back. He runs them down, until his fingers are splaying out against the swell of Mal's backside. Mal moans softly again and drops his head forward, his lips finding Wash's neck to run along the column of his throat.
Wash's hands slide further, cupping and rocking Mal's hips forward. Bringing up another reaction, one that curls low in Mal's belly, one he can feel echoing through Wash when he rubs his thigh up between Wash’s legs. Wash's cheek nudges against his head, breathless “Mal” bringing Mal's lips back up to cover Wash's again. Silence the little noises Wash has started to make as he rocks them together.
“Mal... Mal, wait,” Wash talks against the kiss, his hands leaving Mal's rear and pushing lightly at his shoulders. Mal feels a rush of irritation at being stopped or paused or whatever Wash is doing. The way Wash grins at him when he pulls back, though, tempers it. “I need to, ah, lie down or something before I fall over.”
Mal frowns for a moment. His brain isn't so keen on making sense of anything other than the ache between his legs or the way Wash feels against him. Getting off their feet, though, could be a damn fine idea. His own legs are feeling more than a bit weak, he's leaning most of his weight against Wash and the stall door can't feel comfortable against the man's back.
He looks around for a moment, before pushing off of Wash with a nod. “Yeah. Just...” He trails off and steps away from Wash, grabbing a couple of the clean horse blankets to toss them onto the pile of straw they use for bedding. He makes a grand gesture. “Makeshift bed, just for you.”
Wash leers at him, pushing off the stall door to advance. “Just for me?”
“Well, maybe-” he cuts off when Wash is on him again, mouth taking his and this time it's a lot more like the earlier kiss, with Wash's tongue right in his mouth while Wash pushes him back and down to the blankets. Mal gasps, glad for the cushioning of the straw, even more glad for the blankets laid over it, as he goes down a little too hard and Wash is there on top of him.
His hands cradle the back of Wash's head, their legs tangling together, one looped behind Wash's and the other bent up between the man's thighs. They both moan. Mal has time to think how this is so much better than using his own hand before Wash is pressing his thigh up, encouraging Mal to thrust against the leg pressed between his.
It's the last coherent thought he has until he's gasping, going still and he can feel the heat and stickiness in his jeans. A second later and he can feel it against the leg that's pressed to Wash as the other man follows him over. It's still a long while before either of them can speak in a steady voice, heat cooling off their still-clothed bodies and mess drying in their pants. He's not going to be able to sneak into his room without someone noticing.
He can't help but flush a bit red at the thought, and it doesn't help when Wash's hand touches the side of his face. “Now's not the time to get embarrassed.”
Mal glares but can't hold it, not when Wash's hand has slipped down the side of his neck, palm pressed to his skin so that Mal can feel his pulse thump against Wash's hand. Wash's fingers curl to play with the hair at the back of his neck. “Ain't embarrassed.” Wash gives a disbelieving look. “Screw you, gorramn purplebelly.” Mal shoves at Wash's hip, but it's light and good-natured.
Wash rolls his eyes. “That's romantic.”
“That what this is?” Mal jokes, but underneath that he's unsure, curious what Wash is thinking. Curious what he's thinking, too. His hand gives up on trying to provoke Wash and trails along his thigh, instead. “Some kinda romance?”
Wash rolls himself off of Mal and onto his side, propped up on his elbow to keep looking down so Mal doesn't have to lose sight of those blue eyes. Their legs stay tangled and Mal moves with him some to stay close. “I don't know,” Wash finally answers.
“Ain't never done this before.” And he can say that admitting to that is embarrassing, bringing the red back to his cheeks, not as dark as it wants to be when he forces it away. “You?” He wants Wash to say no, the same time it might be kind of nice if one of them knew sort of what was going on.
“Sure,” Wash says then quickly amends. “Once.”
Mal leans in to kiss Wash, he doesn't see that there's a lot holding him back now, and Wash accepts it with a smile Mal can feel against his lips. “We should get back to the house, before someone comes out here lookin' an' finds us like this. Not that I'm ashamed of you or nothin'.” He grins and his eyes wander down Wash's body. “Not thinkin' our parents'll be too happy, though.”
Wash sneers a little but he agrees because he gets up to his feet, brushes some of the straw dust off himself and lends Mal a hand up. “I'm betting you could do just about anything and your mom would be fine with it.”
“Probably so.” Mal starts the walk back to the house. It's near fully dark outside now, and he can feel the heat of Wash close beside him in the cool of the night. He can't help being pleased that it's probably true. His mom would probably look at him, shake her head and smile. His dad would have had a few things to say about it, on the other hand. Ain't no way his son would ever look twice at some Alliance. Man or woman, didn't matter. Alliance mattered. “Just like I'm betting you're doing this at least partially to piss your old man off.”
Wash looks falsely offended. “Not entirely. You had a lot to do with it, too.”
They both laugh and, whether Wash means that or not, Mal can't find it in him to take offense. He's still tired and, even if he hadn't been hungry before, he is now. The first thing he does, though, is slip into the bathroom, intent on a shower. Wash heads off to his room, Mal can hear the man whistling to himself down the hallway.
Part One - Chapter Five