FIC: Appearances (1/1); R; Firefly (Mal/Jayne); Author: Esmeralda
Title: Appearances (1/1)
Author: Esmeralda
Rating: R for language
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing(s): Mal/Jayne
Disclaimer: This is a work of impure fiction.
Warnings: M/M implications
Summary: Mal creatively retains his alpha male status.
Original Date: November 2006 (posted in shiny_hats)
______________________________________________
Mal understands that when you look and sound like Jayne does, there are distinct advantages. If you need someone to back down, they generally do. If what you want is no questions asked, most folks keep quiet. There's a tendency on the part of others to underestimate the odds that you might be out-thinking them. Ashore, you find no shortage of stalwart rutting. And under no circumstances does anyone sneak up on you when you're sleeping.
The rest of the crew sees these advantages too. Plainly. What Mal suspects no one can see but him, is the worst disadvantage to looking and sounding like Jayne.
Jayne wears himself out pressing iron, lifting himself to beams, practicing his draw. Everyone assumes he's obsessing on preparedness.
It is one evening, after dinner, that Mal sees Jayne dig impatient fingers into his shoulder; Kaylee notices and comes over despite not liking how Jayne speaks to her most times. She knocks his hand out of the way and works his shoulders with hands strengthened on the engine, hands equal to the task of putting Jayne's sore muscles to right. She doesn't do it tenderly, as she would for River, or Book, she does it like Jayne looks and sounds.
Surprisingly, there is no lust on Jayne's face in response to her touch, just pleasure behind his closed eyes and a flicker of longing that from Mal's vantage point has nothing to do with the inside of Jayne's pants. In almost too small a movement to be noticed, Jayne's cheek lists toward one of Kaylee's hands but doesn't touch. Mal commits the information to memory, respectfully.
*****
"Captain?" Jayne sounds more than a little surprised. He swings the room door open and stands there in just his cargo pants. A pistol leaves his grip and swings down casually from a finger.
"You still entertaining?" Mal glances around the clean but mussed boardinghouse room.
"Not especially at the moment," Jayne grins, pleased with himself. "Done wore three out already."
"Since I got the room above, I have to tell you this isn't new information." Mal politely doesn't mention that the male voice that wasn't Jayne's had been new information.
Jayne hangs his head and rubs a hand over his beard. "Sorry, Cap, I didn't aim to ruin your R&R."
"Not at all. I'm not here to complain. Got anything remotely drinkable?"
"Aww, sure. Hang on." Jayne goes to the sideboard and swaps the pistol for a jug. "Good stuff, actually." He grins, wide open and friendly.
"Good, pour me one." Mal closes the door behind himself and shoots the bolt. He finds he has Jayne's undivided attention. Jayne swallows. Mal lets the gears crank for a moment, just for the fun of it. "That was an order, Jayne."
"Oh, right." Jayne fumbles with a glass and pours a healthy measure. He hands it over and snatches his hand back fast.
"I like my crew happy--not so much as to entirely lack restlessness--but content anyway. You take restlessness to a peculiar high level. That ain't healthy either."
"Reckon I'll be a little calmer with the shore leave under my belt if you take my meaning," Jayne says pointedly.
Mal snorts. "I have a theory it isn't your dick making you techy."
Now Jayne is taken aback. "I ain't unhappy or nothin'. Despite what might come out of my mouth in a moment of irritation. The work's good enough. 'Sides, Mal, you pay me to be techy."
"On the job. Not with everyone and everything precious to me." The moment requires a delicate maneuver. Mal opts for taking Jayne off guard. He starts to kick off his boots and loosen his cuffs.
Jayne cocks his head. "I thought you said it isn't my dick."
Mal finishes with his boots without comment. He swallows the drink, plunks the glass down, and strides around the bed until he's very close to Jayne who actually recoils a little. "What happens in this room now stays here. I don't have any reason to tell anyone and neither do you. Sit down."
Astonished, Jayne complies, but he can't look Mal in the eye. He looks like a man in possession of many questions, none of which are managing to formulate themselves into words. Mal stifles a grin. He reaches out with both hands and rubs his fingers through Jayne's stubbly hair, petting. The surprised noise Jayne makes is worth the suspense. Finally, Mal relents. "This isn't about my dick, neither," he says softly. He strokes as tenderly as he can over Jayne's ears, down the nape of his neck.
Mal imagines how good it must feel, sexed out as Jayne is, to be caressed this way just exactly as he needs and never gets. He touches the overbuilt shoulders as softly as he thought Kaylee should have, then slides his palms up Jayne's neck to thumb his cheeks. He feels the jaw muscles clenching but he just keeps soothing until they relax. He wishes he could see Jayne's face as it changes.
When Jayne makes a tiny sound of resignation, Mal cups the back of his head and pulls him in tight, pressing Jayne's face to his shirt. He wraps his arms around the man and holds him, no mistake. Jayne's hands come up, shaking, and grip the back of Mal's shirt at the small of his back, pulling him tighter. Mal can feel Jayne inhaling several big breaths, taking in his scent. The little snuffle at the end is as inevitable as Jayne's attempt to silence it.
Mal's no slouch, he's quick in a fight and canny, but he has no illusions about himself versus the crushing strength of Jayne's arms. That is Jayne's pride and joy; people look to Jayne to be protected and get held, not to turn the tables on him. Mal knows he has to say something or there'll be hell to pay later. "I need it too," he says. The admission is hard.
Jayne nods against a damp spot on Mal's shirt. "You're captain. People make certain assumptions."
"And I depend on them keeping on making those assumptions." Mal replies, gruffly. He isn't really worried. Jayne respects him and that respect isn't about Mal lacking tenderness.
"You can trust me," Jayne says.
"I know."
"Cap’n... stay awhile?"
Mal smiles in surprise. He can't imagine how those words managed to make themselves heard. "Got a bit of time at loose ends," he replies with a shrug.
Jayne releases him and slides back on the sheets. Mal climbs in, settles down, and opens his arms. It isn't natural, it would be far more natural to rest his head in the crook of Jayne's arm, but there isn't anything natural about human beings living in the black either. Jayne comes to him and curls around him, somehow making himself small enough to fit comfortably.
The big body in Mal's arms is warm and solid, the weight on his chest comforting, the bare skin smooth under his hands. Mal strokes until he is fairly sure Jayne is asleep, and then he lets himself rest.
"Mal," Jayne mumbles.
"Yeah," Mal says, just on the verge of drifting off.
"In about two hours, it'll be about my dick. Fair warning."
Mal chuckles. "Dinner bell's gonna ring in less than that."
"Shiny," Jayne replies, snuggling closer.
******
Author: Esmeralda
Rating: R for language
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing(s): Mal/Jayne
Disclaimer: This is a work of impure fiction.
Warnings: M/M implications
Summary: Mal creatively retains his alpha male status.
Original Date: November 2006 (posted in shiny_hats)
______________________________________________
Mal understands that when you look and sound like Jayne does, there are distinct advantages. If you need someone to back down, they generally do. If what you want is no questions asked, most folks keep quiet. There's a tendency on the part of others to underestimate the odds that you might be out-thinking them. Ashore, you find no shortage of stalwart rutting. And under no circumstances does anyone sneak up on you when you're sleeping.
The rest of the crew sees these advantages too. Plainly. What Mal suspects no one can see but him, is the worst disadvantage to looking and sounding like Jayne.
Jayne wears himself out pressing iron, lifting himself to beams, practicing his draw. Everyone assumes he's obsessing on preparedness.
It is one evening, after dinner, that Mal sees Jayne dig impatient fingers into his shoulder; Kaylee notices and comes over despite not liking how Jayne speaks to her most times. She knocks his hand out of the way and works his shoulders with hands strengthened on the engine, hands equal to the task of putting Jayne's sore muscles to right. She doesn't do it tenderly, as she would for River, or Book, she does it like Jayne looks and sounds.
Surprisingly, there is no lust on Jayne's face in response to her touch, just pleasure behind his closed eyes and a flicker of longing that from Mal's vantage point has nothing to do with the inside of Jayne's pants. In almost too small a movement to be noticed, Jayne's cheek lists toward one of Kaylee's hands but doesn't touch. Mal commits the information to memory, respectfully.
*****
"Captain?" Jayne sounds more than a little surprised. He swings the room door open and stands there in just his cargo pants. A pistol leaves his grip and swings down casually from a finger.
"You still entertaining?" Mal glances around the clean but mussed boardinghouse room.
"Not especially at the moment," Jayne grins, pleased with himself. "Done wore three out already."
"Since I got the room above, I have to tell you this isn't new information." Mal politely doesn't mention that the male voice that wasn't Jayne's had been new information.
Jayne hangs his head and rubs a hand over his beard. "Sorry, Cap, I didn't aim to ruin your R&R."
"Not at all. I'm not here to complain. Got anything remotely drinkable?"
"Aww, sure. Hang on." Jayne goes to the sideboard and swaps the pistol for a jug. "Good stuff, actually." He grins, wide open and friendly.
"Good, pour me one." Mal closes the door behind himself and shoots the bolt. He finds he has Jayne's undivided attention. Jayne swallows. Mal lets the gears crank for a moment, just for the fun of it. "That was an order, Jayne."
"Oh, right." Jayne fumbles with a glass and pours a healthy measure. He hands it over and snatches his hand back fast.
"I like my crew happy--not so much as to entirely lack restlessness--but content anyway. You take restlessness to a peculiar high level. That ain't healthy either."
"Reckon I'll be a little calmer with the shore leave under my belt if you take my meaning," Jayne says pointedly.
Mal snorts. "I have a theory it isn't your dick making you techy."
Now Jayne is taken aback. "I ain't unhappy or nothin'. Despite what might come out of my mouth in a moment of irritation. The work's good enough. 'Sides, Mal, you pay me to be techy."
"On the job. Not with everyone and everything precious to me." The moment requires a delicate maneuver. Mal opts for taking Jayne off guard. He starts to kick off his boots and loosen his cuffs.
Jayne cocks his head. "I thought you said it isn't my dick."
Mal finishes with his boots without comment. He swallows the drink, plunks the glass down, and strides around the bed until he's very close to Jayne who actually recoils a little. "What happens in this room now stays here. I don't have any reason to tell anyone and neither do you. Sit down."
Astonished, Jayne complies, but he can't look Mal in the eye. He looks like a man in possession of many questions, none of which are managing to formulate themselves into words. Mal stifles a grin. He reaches out with both hands and rubs his fingers through Jayne's stubbly hair, petting. The surprised noise Jayne makes is worth the suspense. Finally, Mal relents. "This isn't about my dick, neither," he says softly. He strokes as tenderly as he can over Jayne's ears, down the nape of his neck.
Mal imagines how good it must feel, sexed out as Jayne is, to be caressed this way just exactly as he needs and never gets. He touches the overbuilt shoulders as softly as he thought Kaylee should have, then slides his palms up Jayne's neck to thumb his cheeks. He feels the jaw muscles clenching but he just keeps soothing until they relax. He wishes he could see Jayne's face as it changes.
When Jayne makes a tiny sound of resignation, Mal cups the back of his head and pulls him in tight, pressing Jayne's face to his shirt. He wraps his arms around the man and holds him, no mistake. Jayne's hands come up, shaking, and grip the back of Mal's shirt at the small of his back, pulling him tighter. Mal can feel Jayne inhaling several big breaths, taking in his scent. The little snuffle at the end is as inevitable as Jayne's attempt to silence it.
Mal's no slouch, he's quick in a fight and canny, but he has no illusions about himself versus the crushing strength of Jayne's arms. That is Jayne's pride and joy; people look to Jayne to be protected and get held, not to turn the tables on him. Mal knows he has to say something or there'll be hell to pay later. "I need it too," he says. The admission is hard.
Jayne nods against a damp spot on Mal's shirt. "You're captain. People make certain assumptions."
"And I depend on them keeping on making those assumptions." Mal replies, gruffly. He isn't really worried. Jayne respects him and that respect isn't about Mal lacking tenderness.
"You can trust me," Jayne says.
"I know."
"Cap’n... stay awhile?"
Mal smiles in surprise. He can't imagine how those words managed to make themselves heard. "Got a bit of time at loose ends," he replies with a shrug.
Jayne releases him and slides back on the sheets. Mal climbs in, settles down, and opens his arms. It isn't natural, it would be far more natural to rest his head in the crook of Jayne's arm, but there isn't anything natural about human beings living in the black either. Jayne comes to him and curls around him, somehow making himself small enough to fit comfortably.
The big body in Mal's arms is warm and solid, the weight on his chest comforting, the bare skin smooth under his hands. Mal strokes until he is fairly sure Jayne is asleep, and then he lets himself rest.
"Mal," Jayne mumbles.
"Yeah," Mal says, just on the verge of drifting off.
"In about two hours, it'll be about my dick. Fair warning."
Mal chuckles. "Dinner bell's gonna ring in less than that."
"Shiny," Jayne replies, snuggling closer.
******