Firefly Fic: Five Times Jayne Convinced Mal to Have Sex with Him (Mal/Jayne, PG-13)
[Next entry: "Firefly Fic: No Good (Mal/Simon, PG)"]
08/08/2007: "Firefly Fic: Five Times Jayne Convinced Mal to Have Sex with Him (Mal/Jayne, PG-13)"
Title: Five Times Jayne Convinced Mal to Have Sex With Him
For: dessert_first
Rating: PG-13
Words: About 1000
1. After the third time his new merc tries to shoot him and steal his ship, Mal figures it's getting a little old. "This is getting old," he says, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder.
Nearby, Jayne grunts. "Don't take it personal."
Kinda hard not to take it personal when a man tries to steal another man's ship. Though, putting it like that makes it sound awful sentimental. "So it ain't personal?" He shifts. The cargo bay floor is cold, a draft coming right up through the grate. But he's too banged up to move just yet.
Only good thing is that's Jayne's in the same state.
"Naw." Jayne grunts again. "Gorram, think you broke my jaw."
"Wouldn't be talkin' if I did, jackass. Anyway, how's it not personal?"
"Sometimes when a man ain't had a decent sexin' for a while, it makes him antsy."
Well, if that don't take the rutting cake. He's never hiring another merc. Ever. "You're trying to steal my ship 'cause you ain't getting attention of the smutty kind?" It breaks the mind.
"Can I help it if my right hand ain't what I'm lookin' for?"
Zoe isn't ever going to let Mal live this down. Never. So he can't ever, ever let her hear about it. Never. "Bad judgment, sir," he can already hear her saying. While smirking.
He's sick of getting shot at. And then the fistfights after. Not that he has a problem with fistfights in principle. "So. Say if you got something other than your right hand, how many weeks might that get me? Of no shooting?"
There's a long pause. Like maybe Jayne's thinking it over, real careful.
Finally, "Mebbe six weeks. Captain."
Fine. Mal can do that. Ain't like he hasn't been looking at Jayne's ass – when he wasn't thwarting dubious ship-stealing plans – anyway. "Done."
2. After Miranda, they work on Serenity for a good long time. Kaylee estimates they're looking at eight weeks for repairs, but Mal doesn't push her on it. Right now, he isn't going to push anyone on anything.
About four weeks in, Jayne collapses by his side one evening. Sun's setting, and it's getting cooler outside, and Mal's trying not to think about anything.
"Wanted to say something," Jayne starts.
"Yeah?"
"Sorry you lost yer pilot. He were a good one."
Huh. Jayne hasn't said anything about Wash, not that Mal's heard anyway. And this. It's more than what Mal expected. "Yeah. He was a good one."
He figures that's all, that Jayne will get up and walk away and leave Mal to his peace. Except it ain't.
Jayne starts talking. Talking about how he never gave Wash enough credit, what with his pilot skills, and the stupid things he'd do that saved their asses. He talks about how Wash was real funny, and sometimes, late at night, him and Jayne would sit up in the cockpit and make fun of Simon. Or Mal. "Ain't gonna get to do that with anyone now," he mutters.
He just talks. About Wash's crap cooking, and how it don't make sense that Wash got Zoe, but how they kinda worked together. Or Wash's stupid shirts and the time Jayne had to borrow one, and he never got around to giving it back but used it as a rag for polishing his guns instead.
He talks and talks and talks about Wash, until Mal's surrounded by memories and all his peace has been pushed away, and he fears Jayne's going to talk all night. That maybe, once Jayne gets started talking, he never will stop, and all Mal will hear for the rest of his life is Jayne talking, telling stories, always talking, until they're all driven mad.
So he turns slightly and asks, "Jayne, you wanna talk out here all night, or you want to come back to my bunk?"
Jayne's mouth closes, surprised-like.
They head back to Mal's bunk.
3. "Yer pants are too ruttin' tight," Jayne said as he walked into the kitchen.
"Thank you for your keen observation." Mal didn't look up from his soup.
"I'm just sayin'. I can see it right through the chair yer sittin' on. Doc says wearin' clothes too tight ain't good for the circulation."
"This concern for my health is downright touching." The soup was horrible. Mal needed an excuse to get away from it without telling Kaylee that it was the worst soup he'd tasted in years. Too bad he couldn't think of anything crafty.
"I kin help you get 'em off, if yer havin' trouble."
Huh. "You're real classy, you know that?"
Jayne leaned down, real close. "I'm thinkin' what we have right here is a tight pants emergency."
Looked like his crafty excuse had just showed up. Complete with guns and no tact. It was perfect.
4. "What about sex?" Jayne asked.
Mal had seen the question coming from a mile away. "Nope."
"Might save the day."
Might do. "Nope."
"Ain't never hurt to try."
"Sex with you is the definition of hurt. And nope."
"I kin be gentle." Jayne smiled.
It made Mal feel twitchy. "Don't think so."
"Might distract them gunmen enough that they shut their eyes. And then we can run."
It was pathetic and horrible, but the truth was, it was the best plan they'd had so far. Mal closed his eyes. "Just be ready to run. And grab a gun."
Jayne leered, already thumbing Mal's belt. "Gun, huh? That's what you call it? I call mine –"
Mal kissed him, just to shut him up.
5. "Bunk?"
Mal nodded. "Yep. Five minutes, let me finish this up."
"I ain't waiting all night, though." Jayne was serious. Ain't like he had to wait around for sexing. If Mal didn't want it, Jayne could go get it somewhere else. "Simon might distract me," he said, just as incentive.
"In your dreams, jackass."
Aw, Mal, always with the sweet-talking. "Five gorram minutes, frog-humper." He turned and walked away.
Behind him, Mal yelled, "That makes you the frog, moron!"
Maybe so. But it made Mal the pervert.
End
