Firefly fic: Mal/Jayne, R, 912 words
Title: Necessities of the Dark (and the Darker)
Words: 912
Pairing: somewhat Mal/Jayne
Rating: R
Summary: What does (and what doesn't) come out at night. A weird blend of gen and PWP.
Notes: SLOPPY. Probably flawed English here and there, because I had no beta. Definitely flawed Chinese, because I don't speak Chinese. X-posted to ff_friday.
Jayne did it at night.
Quiet, too, for what you'd expect of the big lug, so that Mal was inclined to suspect it was out of some sort of courtesy to himself. There was no one else in the goushi buru cell they were stuck in, anyway.
At night that little fact shone particularly clear, with the soft breaths and grunts of Jayne's preoccupation wafting out over pure silence, greedy to be filled. And the sounds echoed most irritatingly as Mal lay tense in his own bunk. The walls of their prison had once been built with an expert mind against escape, but in this age of poverty and death, Mal was sure there were no guards to listen. Just darkness.
Still, the solid metal bars were doing a damn fine job of keeping them in all on their lonesome, and Mal had been staring into darkness for weeks now.
Three weeks, four days, and fourteen hours after their incarceration, just when one of those sparks that eventually become blazing suns of ideas if you just leave them alone in the corner of your mind lit up against that darkness, Jayne cleared his throat.
The sound effectively snuffed the bitty thing out. Mal granted his mercenary the esteem of a look, eyes flat and unimpressed.
Jayne did not have the decency to be cowed, but maybe it was too shadowy for him to make out the awesome threat Mal presented. Still, it was light enough that Mal thought he saw his lips quirk up in slight amusement.
"Don't you have needs, Captain?"
Jayne was leaning against the wall, legs splayed over his cot, staring at him through the dusty rays streaming from the high slit of a window above them. He'd just finished his work-out. It had once been a daily thing, but as the days had moved on while the to of them stayed put, it soon became as common a practice as meals had once been. Now all they got were slops at sundown.
Mal himself was pressed uncomfortably against the bars, poking at them them ineffectively with a twig. He had been doing this for a couple hours now, and somewhere in that time the late spark had been kindled. Damned if he was going to stop now.
"It depends on what kind of needs you mean. Needs as in I need to feast upon the blood of a virgin daily, no. Needs as in I need you to shut your trap, yes."
Jayne twisted uncomfortably and shrugged off his shirt. Not an uncommon sight these days, as Ware was a hot planet. It clung to his back as he peeled it off and the bothered movement with which he removed it made it clear Jayne was downright antsy.
Not stretching properly after exercise would do that to a man, Mal knew. He contented himself with once a day. Nothing more, because he was starting to feel lazy; nothing less, because he was starting to feel lazy.
Jayne usually did all these things as routine, but when a man's day was more work-out than not, well, a body was gonna get a little stretched out in some places and tense in others.
Speaking of tense, it wasn't only Jayne's shirt that was sticking to his flesh, and it wasn't only his back that was tense.
"You know what kind of needs. A man's needs." He gestured blatantly to himself, and Mal wasn't the least bit surprised that subtlety hadn't suddenly popped out of nowhere as Jayne's new best friend.
The bars made a clinking noise when he tapped them with the stick. "Well, I haven't checked today, but I'm a man, ain't I?"
"I don't believe you've checked since we got here. That's a mighty long time."
"You don't know that. Maybe I do it in the bathroom."
"No, you don't."
Jayne was right about that one. Mal doubted anyone had or would or could. Just as these walls were made to echo, the walls of that sickening box were made to close in and sap out a man's spirit. An ancient dampness and odor hung heavy and close, and the air was so thin and the space so small that halfway through a piss a man felt like passing out. Both of them slightly dreaded having to take a dump, and because of this, and only this, they were partially thankful for their small meals.
Mal once had to give Jayne a hard stare when he caught him pissing with the door open. It didn't happen again.
"Maybe I do it at night, then."
Jayne laughed. "I do it at night."
"Well, if you're looking to do your business in the day as well, fine!" Mal said sharply. "It makes no difference to me if I have to listen to it while I'm trying to sleep or while I'm trying to think of a plan to escape."
He rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated turn toward the blackness beyond the bars as Jayne's hands swept eagerly down to the fastenings of his trousers.
"Ta ma duh, maybe it will motivate me!"
But as always, all it did was make him tense as he stared out into darkness.
Words: 912
Pairing: somewhat Mal/Jayne
Rating: R
Summary: What does (and what doesn't) come out at night. A weird blend of gen and PWP.
Notes: SLOPPY. Probably flawed English here and there, because I had no beta. Definitely flawed Chinese, because I don't speak Chinese. X-posted to ff_friday.
Jayne did it at night.
Quiet, too, for what you'd expect of the big lug, so that Mal was inclined to suspect it was out of some sort of courtesy to himself. There was no one else in the goushi buru cell they were stuck in, anyway.
At night that little fact shone particularly clear, with the soft breaths and grunts of Jayne's preoccupation wafting out over pure silence, greedy to be filled. And the sounds echoed most irritatingly as Mal lay tense in his own bunk. The walls of their prison had once been built with an expert mind against escape, but in this age of poverty and death, Mal was sure there were no guards to listen. Just darkness.
Still, the solid metal bars were doing a damn fine job of keeping them in all on their lonesome, and Mal had been staring into darkness for weeks now.
Three weeks, four days, and fourteen hours after their incarceration, just when one of those sparks that eventually become blazing suns of ideas if you just leave them alone in the corner of your mind lit up against that darkness, Jayne cleared his throat.
The sound effectively snuffed the bitty thing out. Mal granted his mercenary the esteem of a look, eyes flat and unimpressed.
Jayne did not have the decency to be cowed, but maybe it was too shadowy for him to make out the awesome threat Mal presented. Still, it was light enough that Mal thought he saw his lips quirk up in slight amusement.
"Don't you have needs, Captain?"
Jayne was leaning against the wall, legs splayed over his cot, staring at him through the dusty rays streaming from the high slit of a window above them. He'd just finished his work-out. It had once been a daily thing, but as the days had moved on while the to of them stayed put, it soon became as common a practice as meals had once been. Now all they got were slops at sundown.
Mal himself was pressed uncomfortably against the bars, poking at them them ineffectively with a twig. He had been doing this for a couple hours now, and somewhere in that time the late spark had been kindled. Damned if he was going to stop now.
"It depends on what kind of needs you mean. Needs as in I need to feast upon the blood of a virgin daily, no. Needs as in I need you to shut your trap, yes."
Jayne twisted uncomfortably and shrugged off his shirt. Not an uncommon sight these days, as Ware was a hot planet. It clung to his back as he peeled it off and the bothered movement with which he removed it made it clear Jayne was downright antsy.
Not stretching properly after exercise would do that to a man, Mal knew. He contented himself with once a day. Nothing more, because he was starting to feel lazy; nothing less, because he was starting to feel lazy.
Jayne usually did all these things as routine, but when a man's day was more work-out than not, well, a body was gonna get a little stretched out in some places and tense in others.
Speaking of tense, it wasn't only Jayne's shirt that was sticking to his flesh, and it wasn't only his back that was tense.
"You know what kind of needs. A man's needs." He gestured blatantly to himself, and Mal wasn't the least bit surprised that subtlety hadn't suddenly popped out of nowhere as Jayne's new best friend.
The bars made a clinking noise when he tapped them with the stick. "Well, I haven't checked today, but I'm a man, ain't I?"
"I don't believe you've checked since we got here. That's a mighty long time."
"You don't know that. Maybe I do it in the bathroom."
"No, you don't."
Jayne was right about that one. Mal doubted anyone had or would or could. Just as these walls were made to echo, the walls of that sickening box were made to close in and sap out a man's spirit. An ancient dampness and odor hung heavy and close, and the air was so thin and the space so small that halfway through a piss a man felt like passing out. Both of them slightly dreaded having to take a dump, and because of this, and only this, they were partially thankful for their small meals.
Mal once had to give Jayne a hard stare when he caught him pissing with the door open. It didn't happen again.
"Maybe I do it at night, then."
Jayne laughed. "I do it at night."
"Well, if you're looking to do your business in the day as well, fine!" Mal said sharply. "It makes no difference to me if I have to listen to it while I'm trying to sleep or while I'm trying to think of a plan to escape."
He rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated turn toward the blackness beyond the bars as Jayne's hands swept eagerly down to the fastenings of his trousers.
"Ta ma duh, maybe it will motivate me!"
But as always, all it did was make him tense as he stared out into darkness.