Wuyeshi Part Two
Sffan came through with the beta. Bless you, dear, yet again. I don't own these characters, Mutant Enemy does. Fox didn't deserve them. Archive: Just let me know.
Feedback: Sure, why not?
Wuyeshi: At Midnight
Tianna: Oh, God
Tamade: Fuck, motherfucker
Simon didn't know how he had gotten here. Here being the middle of the Captain's ... no, Mal's bunk. He wasn't even sure how he had gotten down the ladder without twisting at least an ankle.
Speaking of ladders, he watched the Captain ... Mal climb down the ladder. Watched the muscles contract and release with every rung. He had no idea that climbing ladders could be so sexy. Of course, in his limited experience, he would never have guessed just how sexy this particular man could be.
As the older man landed on the floor, and stood there, Simon wondered where that dizzying intensity had gone. It had been intoxicating, but now they were both awkward, shy. Uncomfortable. What was he doing here?
"Simon...." ragged with need and lust, Mal closed the distance suddenly, and like before, on the flight deck, Simon could just barely hold on for the ride. Hands gripped his arms, pulled him close, impossibly close to the hard, hot body. That mouth was on his again, drawing out every bit of breath he had left. The tongue traced his teeth, and since when had that become so damn arousing?
He groaned again, not for the first time, and would have sworn he heard his brain make a fizzling noise. All the blood had rushed southward, and all he could feel were the points of contact between his skin and Mal's. And there was something wrong.
"Too ... many ... clothes," he gasped, when they came up for air. Simon released his arms from Mal, and drew his hands up to the older man's shoulders. With Mal's intense gaze following his every move, he slowly slid the suspenders down the arms, feeling taut musculature underneath the shirt fabric. He then worked his slender fingers through the shirt buttons, one at a time.
Abruptly self-conscious, Simon halted his movements, leaving Mal`s sleeves halfway down his arms. Mal sensed his hesitation, shrugged out of the shirt, and leaned in again. Simon braced for the impact, but Mal brought his lips instead to the younger man's neck.
Another groan, with the pressure, the pulling, the teeth. Simon closed his eyes as his hands found the waistband of Mal's pants, feeling for the buttons. He hissed as Mal bit, and imagined the bruise he would have in the morning, but how that didn't matter, every sensation was going straight to his cock, and, tamade , it wasn't going to take long for him to come.
Finally getting all the buttons undone on those pants, Simon pulled away, just to regain a bit of control over his body. He wasn't ready to lose it yet. He looked at Mal, with his feral gaze, and felt his breath catch. There was no turning back, ever. He could see it in the other man's face.
With a wicked grin, Mal took a hold of Simon's shoulder with one hand - propelling him towards the bed - and the ties on his pants with the other. With a yank and a pull, the pajamas puddled around his feet, tripping him just enough so he landed on the bed with a grunt. Mal now towered over him, leaning in for another kiss. This time, Simon heard muttered words, "You taste so good, could do this forever," then a curse as Mal sat down solidly beside him.
"Gorram boots." Simon laughed, and again, when he saw the mortified look on Mal's face.
"It's okay. Nice to break the rhythm a bit." Simon kicked off the remainder of his clothes, and leaned over to help Mal with his boots and pants. In short order, they were both gloriously naked. Simon, of course, had seen the Captain naked, or mostly so, in the infirmary. But that was when he was the Doctor treating the Captain. It was a switch he could turn on at will, to see the body as a collection of parts. Now, at this moment, the sight of the naked body in front of him was intoxicating. Simon pressed in for another kiss.
This one was slower, less desperate. Simon took the chance to force his tongue into Mal's mouth, sampling all of the tastes there, a bit of coffee, a hint of salt, mixed with the fragrances of leather and gunpowder. So warm, so masculine. Then their tongues wrapped around each other, and fought for control. Mal won, and pushed Simon against the bed.
Their cocks rubbed against each other, pre-come providing the barest hint of slickness. Simon gasped at the sensations. Mal muttered, "Tianna, Simon, I need you so bad."
"Take me, Mal," he whispered. It was the only possible answer, the only path available. Simon could have no more refused this man, than he could have stopped breathing.
Mal reached up to a low shelf, pulled a small bottle down, and coated his fingers with the contents. Simon grunted when the first finger forced its way in, but shortly he was pushing back, and another finger joined the first, Mal holding his left leg out of the way. It was heaven, and Simon was writhing and moaning as he was stretched, and had it been so long?
Suddenly the fingers were gone, and Simon whimpered at the cool air, only to gasp as the slick head of Mal's cock pushed it's way in. He lifted his hips, grinding and pushing back, craving the feeling of being full, of stretching, and, oh, yes, it had been so long ...
Mal leaned in, and invaded Simon's mouth with his tongue. It swirled into all the previously unexplored corners, and he was thrusting deeply into Simon, with both tongue and cock. Simon was so sensitized, he couldn't stop making noises, he was praying and begging for release, and knew he couldn't take much more.
Mal's mouth slipped away, and a firm, slick hand grasped his cock, and pulled. Simon's eyes rolled back in his head. When a thumb brushed against the head, everything went black for a moment. He came to, his eyes unfocused, to the vision of Mal in ecstasy, still, and firmly ensconced against his body.
They both collapsed then, sweat and come mixing together, as they found warm places on the bed. Mal grasped Simon's hip, and pulled him in for one, sweet, brief kiss. "Guess it's been a while for both of us." And there was actually a smile there, not a smirk, or a feral grin.
Simon smiled back, gratified and sated. "I guess it has."
"Well, I'm no doctor or anything, but surely that can't be healthy."
"I thought you were the genius doctor here, Simon."
"Mal, I've just been fucked brainless by my captain. You really want me to think?."
A small chuckle, and then, "You wanna spend the night?"
"You couldn't move me with a crowbar. And I'm hoping you don't have one handy."
"Nah. Wasn't planning on moving myself." And they curled around each other, drifting off into sleep.
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