|Simon knows there's a problem when Mal, Jayne and Zoe are
late. He goes down to the cargo bay with some medical supplies and
waits. It had been a mistake to come back to Whitefall, even if
Patience was dead.
An hour later, Wash and Book joins him, and there is worried talk about what to do, if they should go out and start looking. Eventually, Wash goes to assess the weapon situation, and then the three of them are about to head out when Jayne comes storming in.
Dragging Mal behind him. Zoe bringing up the rear, tense and angry. "Wash, get us out of here."
Wash drops his guns, and runs up to the bridge. Simon turns towards Jayne. He's half-holding Mal up, both covered in blood. Simon gestures upstairs, and runs ahead.
Dragging Mal to towards the infirmary, Jayne says, "Somethin's wrong with him."
"He's been shot."
Jayne growls, and says, "I ain't stupid. Somethin' more'n that." They keep moving, and even though Jayne's dragging Mal, he still nearly reaches the infirmary at a run.
Simon gestures to the examining table, starts pulling on his coat and gloves. "Get him up. Do you think the bullet was coated with anything?"
Simon hands over the scissors, and says, "Get his shirt off."
Jayne grimaces, but does what he's told. Simon feels the rumbling of the ship, telling him they've headed out.
"Good. Now go tell Wash to fly carefully, this is going to be delicate. And get Zoe down here."
Jayne grunts, and heads off. Simon looks up, remembering the blood on Jayne's arms, his back. "Wait. Are you hurt?"
"Ain't my blood."
Simon nods, and looks back down at Mal.
Later, the bullet removed, Mal stitched up, and the neurotoxin countered, Simon cleans up. Zoe's back with Wash, having spread the news that Mal will be all right, eventually.
"He O.K?" Jayne's been watching most of the surgery, Simon knows.
"Yes. You were right about something being wrong. The bullet was coated with a neurotoxin. Nothing severe, but enough to make him unconscious and slow down healing. I've given him a counter agent. He'll be fine. The wound will heal. He'll wake up in a few hours." Simon turns around. Jayne has changed his shirt, washed his arms and hands.
"It was real messy."
"Yes. Bullet wounds usually are."
"Not that. Out there. Lots of killin'. Was a mistake to come back here."
Simon isn't sure what to say.
"For now. He'll sleep for a while."
"Good." Jayne reaches out, grabs his arm. "Let's go."
Simon knows he should protest, should stay by Mal, just in case. Anything could happen. But he doesn't. He goes with Jayne, already breathing faster.
They end up in Jayne's bunk, Simon against the wall, Jayne's hand fumbling at his pants, Jayne's mouth on his neck. "Come on," he mutters. "Get your gorram shirt off."
Simon lets go of Jayne's biceps and leans forward, glad he'd chosen to wear a sweater today. He gets it off just as Jayne finishes with his pants, and winces when he's pressed back against the cold hull. But Jayne isn't stopping, his mouth still licking at Simon's skin, his hands roaming, grasping.
Jayne's still wearing his clothes, and he might have changed and washed up, but Simon remembers the way he looked covered in blood, eyes wild. He tugs at Jayne's belt. "Get undressed."
But Jayne just grunts, his hand on Simon's cock now, rough friction. He's leaning into Simon's side, grinding against him, and it's going to be over too soon if Jayne doesn't slow down. So Simon pushes him away slightly, turns him against the wall, and Jayne's hands let him go.
Sliding down the floor, Simon undoes Jayne's belt, then his pants, and reaches in, pushing the clothes aside, circles Jayne's cock with his fingers.
"Come on." Jayne's hand is on his head, clenching, and Simon looks up, grinning. Jayne's got that wild look in his eye again. "Do somethin'."
So he does. He leans forward, skims his lips across the head, licks, and then slides his mouth down Jayne's cock. When his lips meet his fingers, he slides back slowly, teasing almost, savouring the heat in his mouth, the weight on his bottom lip. He hasn't been counting the number of times they've done this, but it's still new, still unique. Each time has been a little different, Jayne always demanding, enthusiastic. But he's never been this desperate.
He starts to move back down Jayne's cock, but Jayne's hands cup his head, holding him still. Simon lets him, moves his hands to Jayne's hips, opens a little wider and lets Jayne fuck his mouth, short, shallow strokes against Simon's tongue, the roof of his mouth. He does what he can to make it better, teasing with his lips and tongue, letting his teeth graze lightly one or twice. It makes Jayne groan, makes his back arch, his head hit the wall.
Jayne's getting close when he reaches down and lifts Simon up, pulling him close as they move to the bed. He licks his hand, fast, then wraps it around Simon's cock again, and Simon gasps, arches up a little, says, "Faster."
But Jayne's got other ideas, and he lets go, repositioning his hands on either side of Simon's head, lowering himself. His cock is hot, next to Simon's, and Jayne thrusts against him, causing them both to groan. Simon reaches down, gets his hands back on Jayne's hips, and urges him to move again, faster.
They don't last long, both of them too far gone. There's friction and sweat, Jayne muttering, his breath hot on Simon's shoulder, then his teeth sharp on Simon's ear as he comes, hips still moving. He reaches down and grasps Simon's cock again, now slick, and pulls once, then shifts down, mouth replacing hand, and Simon gasps, cants his hips up. Jayne sucks, hard, and that's all it takes, Simon coming in quick waves, his hands clutching the bed sheets.
He looks down at Jayne, who is looking up at him. His tongue swipes at his lips, and Simon shudders at the sight, his eyes narrowing. Jayne grins and moves up to lie on his side, fingers on Simon's slick stomach.
"Shiny." Jayne's eyes are closed, his face relaxed. Simon smiles.
Summary: Simon knows something is wrong when they're late.