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Translation: Dong ma=understand, niou-se=literally piss-crap but kinda like crappy or stupid, go se=crap.
Simon tried to look nonchalant as he spoke to the captain. "There's just some stuff I would really like to get in town and Book said that he would watch River."
"Sure doc," Mal answered without looking up from his clipboard, "Zoe needs to go into town anyway and she can look after you while you're there."
"Look after me?" Simon said in surprise, "What, you think I'm a child now?"
Mal looked Simon in the eye and said, not unkindly, "No, I think you're a fugitive."
"I doubt the Alliance would come to this...this..."
Mal took a step toward him. "This may not be the Core, son, but it ain't the Rim neither. You should trust my judgement on things like this. The sooner you learn that, the safer we'll all be. Dong ma?"
Simon nodded, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry, I just feel very claustrophobic lately." He looked at Mal, wondering if he understood the word. "Like the walls are clos..."
"I know what claustrophobic means doc," Mal sighed, "and I know how you feel. Sometimes you just want to get out and see the sky, see new things, meet new people."
Simon had to cover a laugh with a cough because meeting people was exactly what he needed. He had to stop fixating on Jayne. He knew that if he could go to town alone he would easily find a guy to spend a few moments with. That's all he needed, something to take the edge off. Maybe then the sight of Jayne leaning back against the stair railing, with his arms crossed over his chest, emphasizing every muscle in his forearm...Simon realized in shock that he had been staring at Jayne. He quickly turned back to the captain, trying to remember what Mal had just said and found Mal once again engrossed in the clipboard. "Yeah, new...things." He managed to say, shuffling around uncomfortably.
"Yep, go to town with Zoe, get your supplies, maybe grab a brew. Fix ya right up." Mal looked up and smirked at Simon. "Just what the doctor ordered."
Simon walked away and muttered quietly, "Not the prescription I would have written."
After his half hearted shopping, Zoe took Simon to a bar where she chose a table in a dark corner. She felt it would be better if they could see without being seen. But as he sat there he realized that seeing was becoming a problem. Everywhere he looked there were men, tall, short, black, white, muscular. Oh yeah, the muscular ones, with their large arms and strong hands. The thought of strong hands, one on his shoulder, the other on the back of his head.
"You okay?" Zoe asked.
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Yes, why do you ask?"
"Cause you were just staring at Jayne over there," she motioned toward the bar, "with the strangest look on your face."
"Jayne?" Simon turned to see that the muscular man he had been watching was none other than Jayne. "How long has he been here?"
"'bout as long as you been staring."
"It must be the ale." Simon sighed, "We should probably get back to Serenity." When Zoe had gotten up to leave, he added, "It's not like being here is going to make me feel better."
Back in his room, Simon proceeded to alleviate his tension and his mind wandered to his favorite fantasy. He had been picturing this scene for the past three months and it was always the same. He was kneeling before a man and taking his cock into his mouth. He could imagine every detail of the experience, how it felt, tasted, smelled as he took the man deep into his throat, yawning wider to take the man's thrusts. He imagined a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his head as this faceless man thrust deep into his throat and came with a moan in quivering spasms. Fantasy spasms that matched his own real ones as he came on his hand and stomach.
As Simon lay on his bed, he chuckled and shook his head. He knew he had given up a lot to save River, but he never thought he'd have to give up sucking dick. He started thinking about all the men he had been with and the diversity in the length and thickness of each of them. He began to feel the blood returning to his cock. "Oh, I have got to think about something else."
A knock on his door made him jump; had the person on the other side heard him say that? He heard Wash's voice through the door. "Simon, we need you in the infirmary."
"I'll be right there." He called back and thought to himself that his prayer had been answered.
As he entered the infirmary, he knew that God must have a sense of irony because there on the exam table sat Jayne. He had his shirt off and was holding a cloth to a wound on the lower left side of his torso, just above his pants.
Mal was facing Jayne with his arms crossed and shaking his head. "I don't care who started it. This ain't a schoolyard." He turned toward Simon. "Sorry to bother you over a niou-se barfight."
Simon began to prepare what he needed. He had to focus on the task and not on the muscles that gleamed with sweat from the exertion of the fight. "What happened?" He asked as he pulled the cloth away from the wound.
"I was just about to land a solid right to a guy's face," Jayne curled his right hand into a fist and tensed his muscles, "when his friend tackled me from the right. I fell on a broken bottle."
Simon saw that the cuts were jagged, this was going to take more than a few stitches.
"Well then, I'll leave him in your capable hands." Mal said as he left the room.
As Simon began his work, one thing became immediately apparent. Jayne's pants were getting in the way. This must be a nightmare, Simon thought as he told the hulking mercenary to take off his pants and lie on his right side. Simon found a sheet that Jayne could cover himself with and handed it to him.
"What the hell's this for?"
"I thought you might show a little modesty."
"Ain't nothing you never seen, doc."
For a split second Simon panicked, then the word 'doc' reached his brain. "As a doctor...of course...yes I've seen the human anatomy," regaining his composure slightly, "but what if one of the women come in." With that he pushed Jayne into a lying position and covered his body below the wound with the sheet.
In the darkness of his room, his hand franticly pumping his cock, he thought of the faceless man thrusting deep in his throat guiding Simon with his hands. The rhythm of Simon's hand speeding up and he came as his fantasy man came with a moan, a deep guttural moan that carried the whispered words, "oh doc."
Simon lay there catching his breath, "Go se."
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