Fic: On the Mend (Mal/Simon)
Title: On the Mend
Author: tigerlady
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters and world belong to Joss and others not me. Not making any money off of this!
Summary: Mal really doesn't like being banged up. Fortunately, Simon's pretty understanding.
Notes: Written for sheryden, who wanted Mal with Simon in a new relationship, with supportive Simon and vulnerable Mal. I hope this suits. Thank you to kageygirl for looking this over and providing the title. :)
"Go tsao duh rusty piece of luh-suh!"
It wasn't that he couldn't get up the ladder. He knew for a fact that he could. He'd climbed worse, under worse conditions, and considering the way his life went, he was pretty damn sure he'd do so again.
He just wasn't looking forward to making the trip back down. It was a simple enough maneuver, even with one arm bunged up: kick the ladder out, hang on with the good hand, and let his feet do the work, just like he did every day. Except getting down here last night, he'd managed to bang his wrist good while negotiating that simple maneuver. It'd hurt gorram more than when he'd broke it in the first place. Hurt so much that he'd let go of the ladder and tumbled down on his ass in the middle of his own gorram floor.
The only salve to his ego had been the fact that no one had been around to see him do it. Made him doubly thankful for pulling the surly captain routine after they'd fussed so much at dinner.
Mal sighed. No two bones about it, he was going to have to tackle that ladder. He was the captain of this boat, and captains didn't hide out in their bunks while the crew took care of business. Not the good ones, anyway.
He pulled the hatch open, grabbed the highest rung he could reach, and--
Nearly rammed his nose into a pair of shoes that probably cost more than a compressor coil. One bought new.
"Ta me de," Mal swore, taking a quick step back. "And here I thought you were the one with the manners."
"Sorry," Simon said, automatic-like. "I did knock, but I guess you didn't hear. I brought you breakfast."
Sure enough, Simon had a tray tucked up against his side, perfectly balanced so the mug and covered plate didn't slide. Mal directed his direst gaze at Simon's back, irritated that the doc had made the one-armed trip with no problem at all.
"Don't rightly remember ordering breakfast," he said irritably, though his stomach rumbled at the smell wafting his way.
"My mistake, then." Simon set the tray down and finally turned to face Mal. His hair was fresh-washed and combed back, and he still had a touch of pink at his jawline from the scrape of his razor. Mal wanted to step forward and feel that baby-soft skin, but he held himself back, not comfortable with such liberties. "How are you feeling?"
"Good enough," Mal said. "I was just heading up. You didn't need to bring me anything."
Simon shrugged, and Mal thought that maybe that pink wasn't entirely from his recent shave. "I wanted to check on you. Is that a problem?"
"That depends on whether you're here as my doctor or as my--" Mal cut himself off. He didn't know how to finish that sentence. Couldn't believe he'd started it in the first place.
"Can't I be both?" Simon asked softly. Before Mal could work up an answer, Simon reached for his wrist, fingers probing at the flesh not covered by the cast. "I still wish I'd had an auto-setter, but your circulation is fine. Have you had any problems with it?"
Mal shook his head, but a niggling worry in the back of his head had him coughing up the truth. "I bumped it good last night, getting down here. Don't think I messed it up again, do you?"
"Probably not, but I'll scan it later to make sure." Simon frowned up at him. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"If I weren't so stubborn, I wouldn't be alive."
Simon sighed. "If you won't stay with me, at least take one of the empty cabins in the passenger quarters. Just for a few nights, until the initial swelling goes down."
Mal didn't look away from where Simon was cradling his wrist. He brought his good hand up, curled it around Simon's left. "It's not--" He cleared his throat. "It's just that I'm not a man who shares well."
"You? No!"
Mal raised his head, glare ready, but Simon's smile was so sweetly knowing that he had to laugh instead. "I suppose I deserved that," he said, shaking his head. "And, I suppose, that I could manage to make do with you for a couple nights." It wasn't like they hadn't spent most nights together over the past two weeks anyway, but Simon was kind enough not to point out that fact.
"Good," Simon said, letting go of Mal's hand and starting to turn away. "Is there anything you'd like to bring with you?"
Mal reeled him back in. "It can wait a few." He rubbed his thumb, stiff though it was sticking out of the cast, over the smooth skin that had tempted him so earlier. "I thought you could help me take my mind off my poor injured self for a while."
"I can do that," Simon said, smiling into their kiss. Tension eased out of Mal's shoulders as he soaked up Simon's warmth and tenderness. Tension he hadn't even known was there. He walked them backwards, towards his unmade bunk. His fingers weren't deft enough to deal with all of Simon's buttons without looking, but Simon's were, and soon enough they were naked. Just the way he'd hoped.
"I don't know what you're looking for." Simon spoke the words into Mal's chest, half an hour later, as they lay together catching their breath. "And I'll always have River to look after. But, if you want, you don't ever have to share me with anyone else."
Mal swallowed hard. He had a history of messing up these kind of moments, putting his foot in his mouth when it should have been applied to his ass. Simon was tensing up, though, so Mal went with what felt right. "I think that sounds just fine."
Author: tigerlady
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters and world belong to Joss and others not me. Not making any money off of this!
Summary: Mal really doesn't like being banged up. Fortunately, Simon's pretty understanding.
Notes: Written for sheryden, who wanted Mal with Simon in a new relationship, with supportive Simon and vulnerable Mal. I hope this suits. Thank you to kageygirl for looking this over and providing the title. :)
"Go tsao duh rusty piece of luh-suh!"
It wasn't that he couldn't get up the ladder. He knew for a fact that he could. He'd climbed worse, under worse conditions, and considering the way his life went, he was pretty damn sure he'd do so again.
He just wasn't looking forward to making the trip back down. It was a simple enough maneuver, even with one arm bunged up: kick the ladder out, hang on with the good hand, and let his feet do the work, just like he did every day. Except getting down here last night, he'd managed to bang his wrist good while negotiating that simple maneuver. It'd hurt gorram more than when he'd broke it in the first place. Hurt so much that he'd let go of the ladder and tumbled down on his ass in the middle of his own gorram floor.
The only salve to his ego had been the fact that no one had been around to see him do it. Made him doubly thankful for pulling the surly captain routine after they'd fussed so much at dinner.
Mal sighed. No two bones about it, he was going to have to tackle that ladder. He was the captain of this boat, and captains didn't hide out in their bunks while the crew took care of business. Not the good ones, anyway.
He pulled the hatch open, grabbed the highest rung he could reach, and--
Nearly rammed his nose into a pair of shoes that probably cost more than a compressor coil. One bought new.
"Ta me de," Mal swore, taking a quick step back. "And here I thought you were the one with the manners."
"Sorry," Simon said, automatic-like. "I did knock, but I guess you didn't hear. I brought you breakfast."
Sure enough, Simon had a tray tucked up against his side, perfectly balanced so the mug and covered plate didn't slide. Mal directed his direst gaze at Simon's back, irritated that the doc had made the one-armed trip with no problem at all.
"Don't rightly remember ordering breakfast," he said irritably, though his stomach rumbled at the smell wafting his way.
"My mistake, then." Simon set the tray down and finally turned to face Mal. His hair was fresh-washed and combed back, and he still had a touch of pink at his jawline from the scrape of his razor. Mal wanted to step forward and feel that baby-soft skin, but he held himself back, not comfortable with such liberties. "How are you feeling?"
"Good enough," Mal said. "I was just heading up. You didn't need to bring me anything."
Simon shrugged, and Mal thought that maybe that pink wasn't entirely from his recent shave. "I wanted to check on you. Is that a problem?"
"That depends on whether you're here as my doctor or as my--" Mal cut himself off. He didn't know how to finish that sentence. Couldn't believe he'd started it in the first place.
"Can't I be both?" Simon asked softly. Before Mal could work up an answer, Simon reached for his wrist, fingers probing at the flesh not covered by the cast. "I still wish I'd had an auto-setter, but your circulation is fine. Have you had any problems with it?"
Mal shook his head, but a niggling worry in the back of his head had him coughing up the truth. "I bumped it good last night, getting down here. Don't think I messed it up again, do you?"
"Probably not, but I'll scan it later to make sure." Simon frowned up at him. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"If I weren't so stubborn, I wouldn't be alive."
Simon sighed. "If you won't stay with me, at least take one of the empty cabins in the passenger quarters. Just for a few nights, until the initial swelling goes down."
Mal didn't look away from where Simon was cradling his wrist. He brought his good hand up, curled it around Simon's left. "It's not--" He cleared his throat. "It's just that I'm not a man who shares well."
"You? No!"
Mal raised his head, glare ready, but Simon's smile was so sweetly knowing that he had to laugh instead. "I suppose I deserved that," he said, shaking his head. "And, I suppose, that I could manage to make do with you for a couple nights." It wasn't like they hadn't spent most nights together over the past two weeks anyway, but Simon was kind enough not to point out that fact.
"Good," Simon said, letting go of Mal's hand and starting to turn away. "Is there anything you'd like to bring with you?"
Mal reeled him back in. "It can wait a few." He rubbed his thumb, stiff though it was sticking out of the cast, over the smooth skin that had tempted him so earlier. "I thought you could help me take my mind off my poor injured self for a while."
"I can do that," Simon said, smiling into their kiss. Tension eased out of Mal's shoulders as he soaked up Simon's warmth and tenderness. Tension he hadn't even known was there. He walked them backwards, towards his unmade bunk. His fingers weren't deft enough to deal with all of Simon's buttons without looking, but Simon's were, and soon enough they were naked. Just the way he'd hoped.
"I don't know what you're looking for." Simon spoke the words into Mal's chest, half an hour later, as they lay together catching their breath. "And I'll always have River to look after. But, if you want, you don't ever have to share me with anyone else."
Mal swallowed hard. He had a history of messing up these kind of moments, putting his foot in his mouth when it should have been applied to his ass. Simon was tensing up, though, so Mal went with what felt right. "I think that sounds just fine."