A Nice Bonus - [R]
Title: A Nice Bonus
Author: Lvs2read
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Rating: R
Word Count: ~800
Summary: Simon really likes Mal's tattoo.
Disclaimer: Owned by the almighty Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the folks at FOX (Grr Arrgh!) and Universal. I'm just having fun playing.
Author's Note: Written for kissbingo. Many thanks to itinerant-vae for the beta. :)
A Nice Bonus
Simon Tam had a particular appreciation for tattoos. He couldn't have said when he realized it, but by the time he boarded Serenity he was well aware of the fact that tattoos gave him an extra thrill, especially when they decorated the skin of someone he was otherwise attracted to. So, the first time he saw Mal's tattoo, his fingers itched to trace its outline. Unfortunately, he was right in the middle of repairing yet another bullet wound at the time - if he didn't know better, he'd think the man had a death wish given the number of times he'd been shot, stabbed or otherwise badly injured - so he ignored the urge in the interest of professionalism. Later that night, though, when he was sure Mal was going to be all right, the thought of that tattoo fueled a deeply sensual and highly erotic fantasy that he returned to more than once over the next several months.
The next time he saw the tattoo was also under less than ideal circumstances. They were just picking Mal up after he'd been left in the desert. Why he'd let that woman get the best of him yet again was beyond Simon's comprehension, but as the only medical professional on board, it was his job to tend to all wounds - even the self-inflicted variety. So, knowing that Mal would brush off any attempt at an official examination, Simon was bringing him some water to rehydrate and a tube of cooling balm for the sunburn he no doubt acquired while waiting for rescue, a balm Simon would take great pleasure in administering himself if Mal only allowed him to. Having assumed that someone would give Mal his clothes from the recovered shuttle, the last thing he expected was for Mal to be walking around naked. When Mal turned to face him across the cargo bay floor, Simon swallowed hard as he held out his offerings and did his best to keep his eyes on Mal's face as he spoke to him in what he hoped was a professional manner. He knew he hadn't quite succeeded when Mal teased him, with a definite twinkle in his eyes, about having him apply the lotion in places Mal couldn't reach. It didn't happen, of course, but the new fantasy was even better than the old one and sustained him through many a long and lonely night.
That was then, though, and this is now. Now he can indulge this particular kink - it's not a fetish, he doesn't need the tattoo to get aroused, it's just a nice bonus - whenever he pleases. And he pleases quite often. Sometimes, he doesn't even wait to fully remove Mal's pants, just pulls them down far enough to get an eyeful of the wonderfully intricate design before glancing up the length of his lover's body and meeting his slightly sardonic yet heated gaze. He's grown to understand that Mal uses his sense of humor as a defensive shield, so the gentle mocking no longer bothers him and there's only one way to respond to all that heat.
First, he takes a moment to refresh his sense memory by tracing the edges of the tattoo with feather light strokes of his fingers. When that gets Mal breathing a bit heavier, he follows the same path with his tongue then pulls back just far enough to blow softly over the dampened skin - which has the added advantage of letting him watch as Mal's ingrained defenses start to crumble.
Because there's nothing quite so stimulating as seeing Mal's barriers break down one by one. The turn of Mal's head as feigned indifference gives way to unashamed interest, the fingers that curl impatiently around the sheet, the flush that spreads over Mal's skin with every stroke of his fingers, the clenched muscles that slowly relax under his hands, the bite-swollen lips that part for shallow, uneven breaths, the barely contained groans that grow in intensity with every swipe of his tongue, the squirm of anticipation as he leaves his own temporary mark above the one indelibly inked into Mal's skin - all of these are more heady, more of a turn on, than any tattoo. No matter the shape or size.
That he is the one who makes Mal beg for more in a voice ragged with need still amazes him, still makes his chest tighten with an emotion so overwhelming he's not ready to put a name to it. All he knows, right this instant, is that that pleading is something he can't deny and he slides up Mal's body, dropping indiscriminate kisses along the way, until their mouths meet in a kiss so rough, so uncontrollable, so… perfect that nothing else matters except the strength of their desire for each other - a desire that far surpasses any fantasy Simon ever had.
Author: Lvs2read
Pairing: Mal/Simon
Rating: R
Word Count: ~800
Summary: Simon really likes Mal's tattoo.
Disclaimer: Owned by the almighty Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the folks at FOX (Grr Arrgh!) and Universal. I'm just having fun playing.
Author's Note: Written for kissbingo. Many thanks to itinerant-vae for the beta. :)
A Nice Bonus
Simon Tam had a particular appreciation for tattoos. He couldn't have said when he realized it, but by the time he boarded Serenity he was well aware of the fact that tattoos gave him an extra thrill, especially when they decorated the skin of someone he was otherwise attracted to. So, the first time he saw Mal's tattoo, his fingers itched to trace its outline. Unfortunately, he was right in the middle of repairing yet another bullet wound at the time - if he didn't know better, he'd think the man had a death wish given the number of times he'd been shot, stabbed or otherwise badly injured - so he ignored the urge in the interest of professionalism. Later that night, though, when he was sure Mal was going to be all right, the thought of that tattoo fueled a deeply sensual and highly erotic fantasy that he returned to more than once over the next several months.
The next time he saw the tattoo was also under less than ideal circumstances. They were just picking Mal up after he'd been left in the desert. Why he'd let that woman get the best of him yet again was beyond Simon's comprehension, but as the only medical professional on board, it was his job to tend to all wounds - even the self-inflicted variety. So, knowing that Mal would brush off any attempt at an official examination, Simon was bringing him some water to rehydrate and a tube of cooling balm for the sunburn he no doubt acquired while waiting for rescue, a balm Simon would take great pleasure in administering himself if Mal only allowed him to. Having assumed that someone would give Mal his clothes from the recovered shuttle, the last thing he expected was for Mal to be walking around naked. When Mal turned to face him across the cargo bay floor, Simon swallowed hard as he held out his offerings and did his best to keep his eyes on Mal's face as he spoke to him in what he hoped was a professional manner. He knew he hadn't quite succeeded when Mal teased him, with a definite twinkle in his eyes, about having him apply the lotion in places Mal couldn't reach. It didn't happen, of course, but the new fantasy was even better than the old one and sustained him through many a long and lonely night.
That was then, though, and this is now. Now he can indulge this particular kink - it's not a fetish, he doesn't need the tattoo to get aroused, it's just a nice bonus - whenever he pleases. And he pleases quite often. Sometimes, he doesn't even wait to fully remove Mal's pants, just pulls them down far enough to get an eyeful of the wonderfully intricate design before glancing up the length of his lover's body and meeting his slightly sardonic yet heated gaze. He's grown to understand that Mal uses his sense of humor as a defensive shield, so the gentle mocking no longer bothers him and there's only one way to respond to all that heat.
First, he takes a moment to refresh his sense memory by tracing the edges of the tattoo with feather light strokes of his fingers. When that gets Mal breathing a bit heavier, he follows the same path with his tongue then pulls back just far enough to blow softly over the dampened skin - which has the added advantage of letting him watch as Mal's ingrained defenses start to crumble.
Because there's nothing quite so stimulating as seeing Mal's barriers break down one by one. The turn of Mal's head as feigned indifference gives way to unashamed interest, the fingers that curl impatiently around the sheet, the flush that spreads over Mal's skin with every stroke of his fingers, the clenched muscles that slowly relax under his hands, the bite-swollen lips that part for shallow, uneven breaths, the barely contained groans that grow in intensity with every swipe of his tongue, the squirm of anticipation as he leaves his own temporary mark above the one indelibly inked into Mal's skin - all of these are more heady, more of a turn on, than any tattoo. No matter the shape or size.
That he is the one who makes Mal beg for more in a voice ragged with need still amazes him, still makes his chest tighten with an emotion so overwhelming he's not ready to put a name to it. All he knows, right this instant, is that that pleading is something he can't deny and he slides up Mal's body, dropping indiscriminate kisses along the way, until their mouths meet in a kiss so rough, so uncontrollable, so… perfect that nothing else matters except the strength of their desire for each other - a desire that far surpasses any fantasy Simon ever had.