Notes: Post-Serenity. Quite a bit post. Beta read by the lovely lyrstzha. She also offered some title suggestions that helped with the final title. Thank you! All remaining mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
This fic is for simmysim, who requested something linked to the lines: ""It'll take time, I know it, but in a while, you're gonna be mine. I know it, we'll do it in style. 'Cause I made my mind up you're going to be mine." -- Sunshine Superman
The first time Jayne sees it, he takes a real long look. He gets it fixed good into his memory, 'cause sure as hell the next time the crew gets around to landing on Beaumonde, it ain't gonna still be there.
The 586 Gilgamesh semi-automatic, with optional long-distance scope and extra ammo. Just sitting there, in the window of a pawn shop on a crappy street near the docks. Most mercs just call it the '86, 'cause if you're on the wrong end of it, you'll probably be dead sooner'n later. It's something people like Jayne don’t see all that often, partly 'cause they've been banned on most worlds; otherwise, they're real expensive. He just stands there and drinks it in.
The Gilgamesh ain't never going to give him the sentimental thoughts he's got for Vera. And sure, it's heavy. But it'll do a man in a heavy firefight like no other gun Jayne's ever heard about.
Next time they land on Beaumonde, Jayne heads straight to the pawn shop, and he's surprised as all hell that the gun is still there. So he stands and looks at it for a while, until a whore sidles up to him and starts talking.
Hell, it's a pretty gun, but a whore's a whore.
The third time they have a drop on Beaumonde, Jayne's antsy. He's twitchy, and maybe his throat feels a little tight. It ain't because of the job – it's a milk-run, they all know it. All he can think about is if the Gilgamesh is still there. And if he's got enough money to buy it.
Mal notices. "Got a problem, Jayne?"
"Can't help but notice you're a touch tense."
He ain't tense. He's excitable, is all. "Nope."
Mal's never fooled though. After the drop, when it's all gone down and Jayne's got his cut weighing heavily in his pocket, Mal brings it up again. "What are you up to?"
So Jayne just tilts his head in the direction of the shop, and heads out. Mal follows, catches up, walks beside him. It's a good feeling, the two of them walking together, Mal not asking questions. When they get to the store, Jayne just stands by the window and points. Mal whistles. "Don't see those around too often."
Shaking his head, Jayne enters the store, his first time inside. He points at the gun, and the owner brings it out as quick as you please; little man smiles and smiles, and nods his little head. Jayne wants to just push him over and get his hands on the gun. But he waits until it gets placed in his hands.
It's a hell of a feeling. He's looking the gun over real close when Mal comes in too.
The Gilgamesh has a few dings here and there, some scratches, but all in all, it's in pretty good condition. Jayne needs it. That's all he can think. It's gotta be his.
But when he asks the price, he knows it ain't gonna happen. Hell, even used, this is an expensive gun. Maybe in a few more jobs, he could afford it. But now, no way. Not unless –
Sometimes it seems like Mal's the reader on the ship. Before Jayne can even ask, Mal's shaking his head, and saying, "I ain't lending you money for a gun."
"Come on, Mal. This gun, they don't get better. It's got great range!" He lowers his voice, and says, "Gun like this, it'd come in real handy if we met up with Reavers again. Could take three or four out in one shot." Because Reavers are getting closer and closer these days. Broadcast maybe made their origins known, but didn't do much to stop them. And when it comes to dealing with Reavers, the Feds are about as much use as freaks in a bughouse. Jayne don't like it none, not one of them does, and he can't help it. Reavers make him want more guns.
But Mal ignores the Reavers argument, and just says, "I've got my own things to buy, and this gun's expensive."
"I'll take real good care of it. Promise." He ain't ashamed that his voice sounds kinda desperate, a little tight. Gun like this is worth it.
"I ain't doubting your care for your weapons. But do you remember the last time I lent you money?"
Jayne thinks a moment, but he can't. "No."
"Exactly. I ain't lending you money."
He grinds his teeth, but he didn't really expect Mal to hand over some of his own cut. It's just cruel though, to have the Gilgamesh this close and still not his. He's tempted to clutch the gun close, do a runner, but Mal would kill him. Anyway, he'd have to leave all the accessories behind. So he hands the gun back to the shopkeeper, and heads out the door.
Maybe next time.
~ ~ ~ ~
Later, while they're all eating – fresh food for once, and maybe Mal's money did go to better use – Mal says they're staying for three days, waiting on cargo that ain't quite packed up yet. Jayne figures that 'ain't packed up' means that Fanty and Mingo ain't stolen it from its rightful owner yet.
And it's one thing landing, doing a job, looking at the Gilgamesh, and then leaving. It's a whole other rutting thing when he's got to stay on the same gorram planet as the gun, knowing he can't have it.
After, everyone's in a right good mood, 'specially Kaylee, what with all the fresh fruit Mal bought. And Jayne figures, hell, maybe one of them might understand.
He asks Kaylee first. Just goes right up and asks her, and she looks shocked.
"Somethin' wrong?" Her face scrunches up, she looks worried, and he can't figure why, but whatever.
"Nope. It's just –" and he tries to explain, but the words get all tangled up, and he can't say it right. It's clear as day she don't get it, and then she asks,
"You want my money to buy a gun?"
The question's enough that he knows he ain't going to get anywhere with her. But he nods anyway.
"You got a bunch of guns, Jayne!"
Not like this one. "This one's different."
But she shakes her head. "I don't got much left over anyhow. Sorry."
And that's that.
He thinks about asking Zoe, but he knows the answer to that one already. So that just leaves Simon, who probably don't have a coin to his name. He hardly ever gets a cut, and Jayne figures Mal's always been right generous to let Simon and little sister stay on board without making them pay for it.
Still. It's the Gilgamesh, so he might as well ask. Never know what Simon might have squirreled away.
Simon's in the infirmary when Jayne finds him, not that he was hard to find. Pretty much can guarantee the doc's there these days, now that the thing between him and Kaylee has fizzled. No more late-night engine room visits for Simon, nope. It makes Jayne grin, kinda mean, to think how he lost little Kaylee's affections. Only a gorram idiot would have gone and lost a girl like that. But, Simon being who he is, Jayne wasn't all that surprised when them two stopped sexing each other up.
But now ain't the time for that. He don't beat around the bush, just comes out and says, "You got money?"
And Simon turns, startled. Jayne can walk real quiet, when he wants. "What?"
"You got money?"
Gorram. This thing is hard to explain. "I need a gun. Don't got all the coin I need. Was wonderin' if I could borrow some."
It's worse than Kaylee, because Simon laughs, and it ain't a nice sound. "Money. I can't remember the last time I actually had money. If I had money, I'd give it to you. But I don't."
It's real doubtful Simon would ever give Jayne money, but Jayne don't call him on the lie. 'Cause he's got another plan. "Then I need yer brain."
Simon's face kind of tenses up, and Jayne wonders what he said wrong, especially when Simon turns away, his back rigid. Not that the doc ain't a walking ball of tension usually, but this is different. "What?"
Simon ignores him, and when Jayne moves around so he can see his face, it's clear as day that Simon's trying not to laugh. Trying real hard. His mouth is tensed up, and he's biting on his lip. His eyes are a touch wild, enough so maybe he looks like he's on the edge of crazy. So Jayne asks again, "What?"
"You want my brain? What are you going to do? Sell it on the black market? Shall I just open up my skull for you?" Simon's forehead wrinkles. "Do you even have proper storage lined up?"
It ain't funny.
Well, it kind of is. Jayne snorts, grins. "Not like that. I need your smarts."
"I wanna steal a gun."
~ ~ ~ ~
He's pretty surprised that Simon even listens to him. But he does, he lets Jayne lean up against the infirmary table and talk out his idea. Explain what he wants, why he needs that gun. And then he gets into the specific problem.
"See, the shop's got security feeds. And Mal, he ain't gonna take kindly to me going and making us enemies here. I figure you, big brain like that, you can figure a way to short the feeds. I can get into the store, steal the Gilgamesh, and get out."
Simon's not looking at him, sort of focusing his gaze at some point on the wall. After a few minutes, long enough that Jayne's starting to get annoyed, Simon says, "My brain isn't actually bigger than yours, Jayne."
"Our brains are probably about the same weight. And size."
Simon turns his head slowly, fixes his eyes on Jayne for the first time in about ten minutes. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just a point of interest. But I don't think your idea will work."
"Well, what will we do about crowd control, for one thing? The streets here are hardly deserted, even in the middle of the night. Someone would get a capture, or recognize you. Or me."
"Also, what if there are multiple security feeds, each independent of one another? We'd have to disable them all, simultaneously, and we might not get every one."
Gorram. It was a stupid idea. He just got all muddled up thinking about the gun. He pushes away from the table, and turns to head out the door.
"What?" He turns back around.
Simon's looking at him, focused. It's eerie being looked at that hard; don't quite help that Simon's slightly smiling too. "You're just giving up?"
"It ain't gonna work, is it?"
And Simon shakes his head, still with that eerie smile on his face. "Not the way you're thinking. But I've got another idea."
Maybe it was a good idea to come to Simon. He grins. "Yeah?'
Looking away, Simon picks up a scalpel, twirls it between his fingers. It's kinda mesmerizing to watch, flashing silver in the low infirmary light. "What do I get for it?"
Oh. Right. Figures. But if Simon's got a decent idea, ain't right he don't get something for it. Fair trade and all; no sense having debts over his head. But he's cautious, 'cause what Simon wants might not be worth it. Like, he ain't babysitting. No rutting way. "What d'you want?"
Simon steps closer. "How much money do you have?"
~ ~ ~ ~
They settle on a sum, enough that it close to wipes out Jayne's savings. Then, Simon lays out his plan. Jayne can't help but grin, 'cause it's good. Damn good. They both figure it's better if Mal don't know about any of it, since he'd just cause a ruckus, maybe muck up the whole thing. So they don't breathe a word to anyone else, just talk it through together.
In the morning, Jayne pulls a hat down low on his head, and tells Simon to bundle up in one of Mal's ugly-ass coats, one that no one will look at twice. Then he takes Simon out, shows him the shop. They don't get too close, just enough that Simon knows where he needs to go.
And then they wait. The rest of the day, Mal sticks to the ship, and there's no way Jayne and Simon can do what needs to be done. It makes Jayne tense up, and he figures Simon's probably feeling the same way. Simon won't get paid if Jayne don't get his gun.
The next morning, Mal and Zoe head out, claiming they got things to do, cargo to pick up. They say they won't be back for hours, and not to bother waiting up for them.
Like Jayne would anyway. But he nods, says, "Have a real swell time," and then heads to Simon's room.
The door's shut, and when he pushes it open, Simon's already half dressed.
"Do you mind?"
And he don't, not at all, so he shrugs, and then watches while Simon gets into the rest of his Fed uniform. "Good thinkin' to keep that." It's left over from when Simon stole his sister, and not one of them knew he had it. Don't seem right that a doctor can keep so many secrets.
Buttoning up the jacket, Simon nods. "I did think it might be useful some day."
"Better not let Mal see you wearin' it though." These days, Mal's a mite twitchy about Feds. Even more than before.
Simon's mouth twists. It ain't quite a smile. "Do you think he'd shoot first and ask questions later?"
Jayne don't figure Mal would even ask the questions. "You think this is gonna work?"
But Simon doesn't answer, just fastens the belt, checks himself in the mirror. His hair is slicked right back, and his face is tight, arrogant, and he almost looks like a different person. If Jayne saw him walking down the street like this, his eyes would just slide right over him, 'cause one Fed pretty much looks like all Feds. Jayne takes it all in, and he knows it's gonna work.
Turning to face Jayne, Simon pulls on the gloves, and nods towards the door. "Let's do it then, shall we?"
~ ~ ~ ~
They split up at the door, after Jayne checks to make sure no one's watching. Simon walks away slowly, looking everything, everyone over carefully, like he just don't trust them. Jayne watches for a spell, then busts it down to the shop, sets himself up so he has a good view, but also ain't real obvious.
He cleans under his nails with his biggest knife, and that keeps people from talking at him. Or looking too close. Knives are a good distraction. Always have been, in every kind of situation Jayne's ever found himself in.
He's watching, so he sees when Simon starts to stroll down the street, sees how people just part ways in front of him. Simon plays the role real well. Couple times, he gives people these looks that, if they were directed at Jayne himself, would mean a punch in the mouth for the Fed.
It's a pleasure to watch. Simon's probably having a decent time too, with all them folk cowering in front of him. Ain't like he gets that kind of attitude from the crew. Ever.
So maybe he likes it, having a little power. Of course, he don't see the folks spitting behind him, but Jayne does. Beaumonde might be civilized territory, but this ain't exactly a Fed-friendly part of town.
Simon takes his time getting to the shop itself, then stands outside, looking at the gun in the window. He gets out a datapad, makes some kind of scribble on it, takes a capture of the gun, and then just marches through the door, back as straight as anything.
This is the part Jayne wishes he could see. Simon, all made out like a Fed, harassing the little man inside. But he can't. All he can do is hear, through the tiny earpiece he's wearing.
"Excuse me. Who is the owner of this establishment?"
Jayne hates that voice, Simon's most haughty, most demanding. He's thinking on it so hard that he misses some of what's being said, only tunes back in when he hears,
"I trust you are aware that the 586 Gilgamesh has recently been classified as contraband on Beaumonde, following the decisions on Sihnon, Osiris, and Persephone."
And that's just crap, 'cause the Persephone government knows better than to make them kind of rules.
"This means that trafficking these models is illegal. However, since this is a new classification, I am willing to overlook your violation."
Simon is gorram good.
"You must, however, provide me with this gun, and all related accessories and ammunition, before I leave this store. Otherwise, you will be subject to a fine and possibly jail time." There's a little pause. "The jail time, of course, would be contingent on whether you've been cited for contraband before."
Another pause, longer, and Jayne just imagines Simon staring the little man down. "I can't imagine a reputable establishment like this would ever have been cited for such violations. Thus, you would likely get away with the fine."
Jayne stops paying much attention to the words then, because he's got a good enough view through the window to see that the Gilgamesh's being picked up. He's already imagining the way it's going to feel in his hands when Simon asks,
"Is that all of the ammunition? I don't want to have to look around, and find something else that shouldn't be here."
There's a longish pause before Simon speaks again. "Thank you for your compliance with Alliance rules and regulations. Your cooperation will be noted. Together, we are making a better world."
And that's it. Simon marches back through the door, arms full of packages. He looks up and down the street casually, spies Jayne, and turns, walks away. Slowly. He keeps surveying the street, nodding at women and children (they don't nod back), scowling at other things, Jayne can't figure what exactly. But it's a good act. A real good act. Take Simon out of rutting shiny vests and ugly clothes, put him in a uniform, and he's got a way about him. Same as on Ariel, during the hospital job. It's fun to watch.
He trails Simon back to the docks, then watches as Simon ducks into an alcove, comes out without the jacket and gloves on, just the plain white uniform shirt and blue pants. The packages are still in his arms, but they've been mucked up a little.
Jayne loiters outside for a space, just making sure Simon didn't get followed.
When Jayne gets back to Serenity, Simon's waiting for him in the kitchen, shirt unbuttoned at the top, hair no longer slicked back. He's smiling.
Grinning, Jayne says, "Like a dream." He holds out the money, and Simon takes it.
"It's all waiting for you outside your bunk."
"Shiny." And he turns, leaves the lounge, heads for his bunk.
Good day. Real good day.
~ ~ ~ ~
After the gun job, Jayne's got a couple of thoughts of what might happen. First, when Mal finds out, he might get pissy. But Jayne can handle that. Ain't like it'd be the first time.
Second, if they get busted, they're humped for sure. Impersonating a Fed's bad news, all around. But Simon figures no one's gonna try anything, 'cause they got other crime to be doing. It's an awful lot of trouble to check out credentials and IDs and all of it.
Third, Jayne's gonna have to find a quiet little practice range, 'cause he'll have to try this thing out before they leave planet. It'll have to be somewhere out of the way, so the gun don't get recognized.
What he don't expect is Simon finding him later in the day. Mal and Zoe are still out doing their thing. Kaylee's been playing at shopping and dress up and fun for two days now, dragging River along like she ain't some kind of bug-shit crazy killer woman. A note in the kitchen says now they've gone down to the parts depot, 'cause Kaylee's got some wants. So, it's just Jayne and Simon on the boat, and maybe they're both a little wired from the plan going so smooth.
Hell, it went so smooth that Mal should let Simon in on the planning more often.
But he don't expect to hear Simon calling him on the comm, asking if he can come down. Jayne don't like other people in his bunk, so he comes up instead. "Yeah?"
Simon's out of the uniform entirely now, dressed in a dark shirt and dark pants. His face is kind of flushed. "I went out."
"I did some shopping. River and I needed some things. I also stocked the infirmary. I had some money left."
Simon holds up a bottle, and Jayne whistles. It ain't crap. "You fixin' on drinkin' that?"
"It's been a while since I've had a decent sake. And this was our first time working on a plan together. Without mishaps, that is."
Yeah. And he's been cleaning and polishing the Gilgamesh for hours now, so maybe it's time for a break. Especially if it ain't him buying the drinks. "Then let's go."
They end up in the lounge, Simon leaning back on the couch, Jayne stuffed into a chair. He tries to make an argument for the couch, 'cause these chairs ain't real comfy, but Simon just snorts, pours the drinks, and says, "It was my brain that came up with idea. And I did all the work."
And he's right. So Jayne just stays put.
Simon's got these tiny little cups, thick clay, painted blue and black, for the sake. They've gotta be new too, bought specific for this quality of drink, 'cause they sure don't have that kind of thing in Serenity's kitchen on a regular basis. He feels awkward holding it, but it looks like it fits real nice into Simon's hand.
Maybe Simon's getting as much of a kick out of drinking from a little cup as he is from the sake itself. It makes Jayne smirk a little, and then he tilts his cup, downs the sake in one gulp.
Gorram, it's smooth.
Simon raises his eyebrows. "You're meant to sip it." And that's what he's doing, taking tiny mouthfuls, eyes closing a little when he swallows. "It's supposed to be savoured."
Yeah. Well. That ain't Jayne's way. But when Simon pours him another cup, he tries to take it more slow. But all in all, he drinks more, and faster than Simon, and so maybe it's not a real surprise that when he starts to feel drunk, Simon's still just relaxed. Casual. Maybe a little tipsy, 'cause he's sinking into a deeper slouch on the couch. Just sprawled.
Jayne has to say something, so he says, "We did real good today. Gun's a beauty. It'll come in useful, no question."
"I'm surprised you didn't bring it up here with you."
He shrugs. "Guns and drinkin' ain't the best mix. Not 'less you're looking to cause some damage." Smirking, because he knows it just might fluster Simon up, he continues, "Now drinkin' and sex. That's my very favourite mix."
But it don't make Simon flustered at all. Just makes him raise his eyebrows, and slouch down a little more. "I thought guns and drinking would be your idea of foreplay."
Jayne pauses, cup half-way to his mouth. That's just – well, this is starting to get all kinds of interesting. Real slow, he says, "You think 'bout me and foreplay lots, then?"
Simon don't answer, though they look at each other for a space, wary-like. It's the first time Jayne thinks Simon is maybe interested in more than talking and drinking. Eventually, Simon holds up his cup, and says, "To your gun. And the plan. And also to the bag of money that I earned." He knocks his drink back, swallowing fast this time.
"Supposed to savour that, I hear."
"Well, sometimes savouring is a waste of time." Simon's smiling, open, wide, and Jayne don't see that often. It's odd. Maybe going out shopping makes him a little giddy. What kind of shopping makes a man like Simon happy? Jayne himself gets excitable about getting new gear, but Simon? He's almost curious enough to ask, but hell. Probably boring shit anyway. Medicines, probably fancy clothes.
A couple drinks later, Jayne's feeling even better than before, and it looks like Simon is too. He's laughing a little, telling some story about his walk over to the pawn shop, and Jayne's only half listening, because mostly, he's watching Simon's mouth move, and Simon's legs spread out just a little bit more.
Jayne ain't sure exactly how it happens. One minute he's sitting, drink in his hand. He's looking at Simon, thinking about the gun, thinking about mouths and bodies, and Simon dressed up like a Fed, and the next –
He's pushing Simon up against the back of the couch, his knee balancing on the edge between Simon's spread legs. And he's working at Simon's pants, popping the button open, pulling down the zipper. His hands feel clumsy, it seems to take a long time, but Simon ain't pushing him away, he's just watching, mouth a little open, hand on Jayne's arm right up by his shoulder.
Jayne takes a deep breath, leaning close into Simon's chest, and yeah. Good smells all around. And then finally the pants are open, and Jayne just slides to the floor, lifts Simon's hips up, and drags him forward. He gets his hand wrapped around Simon's cock, dragging his thumb across the head.
Simon says, "Jayne –" just before Jayne leans forward and takes Simon's cock into his mouth. Simon jerks forward, and it makes Jayne laugh, as best he can with his mouth full, anyway.
Simon tastes hot, and it's been a long time since Jayne's done this, but it ain't exactly something a body forgets how to do. It's so good it makes him wonder why he don't do it more often. Especially since Simon's sort of gasping, his hips twitching; Jayne just puts his hands on either side and holds him down.
It's sweet like that for a space, Jayne working Simon's cock with his lips, tongue; listening to the little gulping noises Simon makes, and the wet slick sounds as Jayne sucks a little harder, pulls back a little, goes back down. He gets caught up in all of it, the heat, the scent of hot skin, the taste and the messy rhythm. When Simon's hand moves to Jayne's head and just stays there, holding real firm, Jayne figures that's a cue to get a little more focused.
He moves his hand from Simon's hip, pushes his pants down a little more, and gets his hand inside, brushing Simon's thigh and then spreading his ass a little. Simon grunts, thrusts up a bit, and yeah, that's good, 'cause Jayne can get his fingers right there so he's rubbing in the sweet spot, thinking on maybe trying to get a finger inside.
But he needs something slick for that, 'cause he knows spit ain't gonna cut it, not with Simon. He's about to pull back, off, say something to this effect, but Simon's hand clenches, he says, "Don't," so Jayne does his best to grin, and just sticks with what he's doing.
It don't take long, a few more swipes of his tongue around Simon's cock, a few more decent sucks, a couple of swallows, and then Simon's coming fast, and Jayne just swallows some more.
When he pulls back, sits up, Simon's still sprawled, eyes closed, and there's something downright dirty to see him like that, pants open, shirt pushed up, face flushed. Jayne's pants are too tight, and he's impatient and thinking on how to best get what he wants, when Simon opens his eyes, and says, "My room."
Jayne grins and turns, heads in that direction, saying, "Move it, then." He hears Simon get to his feet, follow him down the hall slowly, and Jayne's already half undressed by the time Simon joins him. He's holding his pants closed, and he's got a little clear bottle in his hand, something that looks doctory and hygienic.
Simon closes the door, locks it, and when he turns around, Jayne's naked, waiting. Simon just raises his eyebrows, and pulls off his shirt, shucks off his pants. He tosses the lube bottle to Jayne, and walks to the bed.
Just the walking makes Jayne want to throw Simon down, have a good thrust, no preliminaries. But that won't do. Simon's probably one of them that likes the messing around first, and sure, Jayne don't usually care too much, but Simon. He's got all kinds of ideas about everything, and he's like to just kick Jayne out if he don't do it right.
So he's about to reach out, pull Simon close, maybe kiss him a little around the neck. But Simon just shakes his head, grins, and then lies face down, pulls his legs up underneath him, and if that ain't one hell of a view, Jayne don't know what is.
"Are you going to wait all day?"
Nope. Hell no. He gets himself set up nice and comfy, spreads Simon's legs a little more, lubes up his fingers, and gets right on with it. For once, Simon don't seem to have any bitching to do; he just groans through it all, finally saying, "More." So Jayne gets another finger in on the action, and hell.
It's hot to watch Simon wiggle like that. Sharp shoulder blades, nice arms, yeah. It's pretty to watch. It's enough that he leans down, licks along Simon's shoulders a little, tasting salt and clean.
Finally he can't wait any longer, so he pulls his fingers out real slow, then gets his cock nice and slick, and oh gorram hell, he just pushes in.
Simon is hot inside, so rutting hot and perfect, and he don't just lie there and take it. He pushes himself back, raised up on his arms a little, and says, "Move."
So Jayne does. He holds tight to Simon's hips, and gets up a good, hard rhythm, something that leaves Simon gasping and Jayne's own eyes crossing. It's just so slick, and Simon's got the best lube ever, and the hottest ass, and a real way with making little noises that gets Jayne even more hot and bothered.
It don't last long. Feels like maybe it should, both of them like this, but Jayne's too excitable, and Simon's too enthusiastic. Jayne reaches around, takes Simon's cock, and it's a hot, heavy weight in his hand. It only takes a few more thrusts, a few strips of Simon's cock, to have him coming right in Jayne's hand and all over the sheets.
Simon collapses down, all the sharp lines of his body rounding out, and Jayne can't hold back, he just lets go, pushes in hard, once, twice. And then he's coming hard, grunting and gasping for air, slumped right over Simon's back.
It's just a shiny end to a hell of a good day.
It's a while before he can pull away, off Simon. When he does, Simon hisses a little, but turns so he's on his side, body about as relaxed as Jayne's ever seen it. He's mussed up, and Jayne ain't never seen that look. Maybe Kaylee has, but this is all new Simon for Jayne. He's feels like he ought to say something, but gorram if he knows what. So he thinks on it for a space, and then says, "Thanks for the plan."
Simon grins up at him, eyes unfocussed. "Thank you for the money-making opportunity."
Jayne nods. He shoves the damp sheet to the floor, and rolls over. He pulls up a blanket and gets comfy. Simon don't object, just curls into him a little. It ain't all touchy-feely, or needy or nothing. It's just relaxed. He don't mind.
His eyes close. Ain't no reason not to sleep a little. He's been busy all day.
~ ~ ~ ~
Later, way later, Mal and Zoe finally get back. Jayne's up, wandering, 'cause of the afternoon doze. He's thinking about gun ranges and tomorrow, and trying to figure if he's got enough coin left to buy a good few hours of target practice. Gilgamesh's one hell of a gun, but no way is he going to use it in a firefight without a little practice first.
When Mal walks into the kitchen, he takes one look at Jayne and asks, "So I'm guessing you got the gun, then?"
Ah, hell. Did Mal watch it all go down? Sneaky son of a bitch. No way he's folding over just like that though. "I don't get yer meanin'."
Mal just grins, a bit smug and full of himself. Looks like the pick up job went well. "Jayne, you got a look on your face I don't see often. Like Kaylee when she's eaten up a box of chocolates and peaches. It's almost indecent."
Jayne knows that look. Kaylee, when she looks like that, it always gives him all kinds of thoughts.
Mal keeps talking, right through the mental turn Jayne's taking. "I figure that means you either thought of a way to get that gun, or else you caused a tussle of some sort that ended in questionable activities. And I don't see you in a lock-up, or covered in bruises and cuts, so I'm guessing you made a plan, and it went down real well."
Jayne grins back, he can't help himself. Mal, he's never fooled. It's annoying some days, but not today. "Hell, yeah. I got the gun. It went down real smooth, you got no idea. Me and –"
Holding up his hand, Mal says, "I think it's best if I don't know details right yet."
Yeah. Probably true. More'n Mal knows, even.
"Gotta say though, you look even more pleased with yourself than I'd have thought. It's just a gun. Nice gun, but still."
Yeah. Well. Mal said he didn't want details, and Jayne ain't gonna give 'em.