Yejian

by skripka

Series: Yi Tiantian Di
Warnings: angst (fighting) and language (lots!) and sex Disclaimers: Never mine, Joss created them, Tim wrote them, and Fox screwed them over. Not in the good way, either. So, now I get to play. But not for money or anything. Feedback: All kinds welcomed.
Archive: Where you will, just let me know.

Summary: Tempers fray, and eventually, everything comes together.


Kelly girl and Sffan are really talented writers and helpful betas. {{{{{big damn hugs}}}}}


Learn Chinese through fanfic!
Yejian: Night
Yi tiantian di: Day by day
Shenjing hundan: Screwed-up bastard
Longya: Deaf and dumb
Qurnide: Go to hell
Gaisi: Oh, shit
Baichi: Idiot
Bizui: Shut up
Ni jiujing zai gan shenme?: What the hell are you doing? Dong ma?: Understand?

Somewhat late translation note: These phrases are in pinyin Mandarin, not the cowspeak-Cantonese they use on the show (mostly, more or less), so the spellings might be a bit different than we've gotten used to seeing. Qurnide, for example, is often parsed as "chur-ni-duh," gaisi as "gao-se," and hundan as "hwoon-dahn." You'll just have to take a stab at the other pronunciations, though. Sorry!


It was getting late. Simon was sitting in the common area, outside the infirmary, dressed only in his shirtsleeves, when Mal came upon him. The doctor glanced up, and stood to escape, when Mal reached out and seized him.

"We have to talk, doc." Mal glared, trying not to lose himself in those eyes like he did before.

"Damnit, Mal," Simon hissed. "What the hell do you want from me?"

Mal stood there, hands tightening against those arms, barely resisting the urge to shake the body attached.

"Shenjing hundan," Simon spat, twisting his arms free. "Do you think that treating me like a pariah all day entitles you to grab me?"

"Boy, don't you start ...," His voice ground out against his vocal cords.

"What the hell is your problem?" Simon tempted fate by pushing his face into Mal's.

Ignoring the heat rising from the younger man, "You think I'm longya? That I don't see what you did? You're a disruption to this crew, to my ship, and I'm dumping you on the next rock with breathable air."

"What? No threats to space me? You're getting soft in your old age." Simon sneered.

"Don't push it, doc." Mal growled, and shoved the warm body away. He was getting riled up again. In all sorts of interesting ways that could distract him from his purpose here, too. Mal paused, eyes shut, knowing he had to regain control, or this might turn into a violent repetition of last night. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Simon again.

Simon glared at him, sullen incandescence in his eyes, pushing up from the railing where he had caught himself. "Hell, it's not like I should have expected more from a smuggler like you, anyway." Getting himself to a standing position, the young man attempted to straighten his clothes. "Well, you had your fun, got to knock me around a bit, even. Got anymore games you want to play?"

"Qurnide, Simon." His fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily. "Only games here have all been yours."

"What games have I been playing, Mal? I'm dying to know." Simon's hands rose, and illustrated his frustration.

Deciding it was time to press his physical advantage again, Mal snarled, "You think warming my bed and then looking for a pity fuck from Kaylee ain't no game?" He stalked in closer, then stopped when he noticed the stunned look on Simon's face.

Mouth open, eyes dazed, the doctor was speechless. Mal frowned. Not the reaction he was expecting.

"That's not ... God, Mal, what gave you ...?" The realization lit up Simon's eyes. "Gaisi, were you eavesdropping?"

Mal flushed, "No." he stated emphatically. "Just saw the two of you, cuddled together, all nice as a picture." The thought that he might have misinterpreted something cooled his blood, so Mal was able to stand calmly, arms crossed, and listen to Simon

"I was comforting her, you baichi. She caught me leaving your bunk, and we were talking it over." Simon frowned, and glanced briefly to the side. "She's still mad at me."

Mal blinked. nope, not at all expected. "How come you left?"

Simon looked up, reacting to the small hurt in Mal's question. "I couldn't wake you." The younger man's arms somehow ended up crossed, in a mirror image of Mal's stance. "You were exhausted, didn't react at all when I kissed you good bye."

nice thought He didn't answer, just stared at the mark left on Simon's neck from the night before, revealed by the disheveled clothes. now, that's sexy .

"Mal, how could you think so little..." Simon began ranting, and then Mal stopped him with a word.

"Bizui." No longer out of control, Mal knew there was only one thing he wanted to do, so he leaned in, placing his hands on either side of that dark head, trapping Simon.

"Ni jiujing zai gan shenme?" Simon pulled back, a bit fearfully. Mal decided that was a bit arousing too.

"Kissing you. Now, buzui." And their lips touched, and it was everything he remembered, and more. The soft, dark heat was tempered by bitter anger and salt tears. And he was almost sorry that he had caused the anger and the tears, but it was a new flavor, and he wanted it all. He drank in every breath, every ragged sigh, every ache that had found a home in that dark orifice.

Simon groaned into Mal's mouth, and brought his hands to rest lightly on the arms encircling his head. It was all the encouragement the bigger man needed to pull the warm body against his. Grinding their hips together produced another groan from Simon, and a rush of blood so hot, it seemed to leave traces in the spaces between them.

Pulling the compliant body along with him, Mal worked the door to Simon's room open using his foot, and spun the lighter man inside.

"You're mine, Simon." The doctor's breath hitched, skin flushing, as Mal pulled the white shirt off with no regard for the buttons. " I'm not going to give you up now, not without a fight." And now he was working on the pants, as Simon tried to remove his shoes gracefully, and failed. The boy tripped onto the bed, and sat naked, fully aroused, and beautiful, as he watched Mal undress. "Dong ma?"

Swallowing hard, Simon managed to gasp out a strangled, "Yes ..., " mere seconds before Mal pushed him down onto his back.

Pausing, Mal searched the face below his, "You absolutely sure, Simon?"

"Yes," Simon stated with more conviction, and pulled Mal down for another kiss.

It was a magic word, Mal felt all the emotions he had been building upon during the day release in a torrent of passion. He dragged his mouth away from the kiss, and over the jaw, and down to the sensitive throat, where he proceeded to mark Simon again. He traced with tongue and fingers, across smooth skin, along defined lines. He bit, and soothed, and took every arch and gasp of the body below him, and tried to fit it into his own.

At some point, he found a vial of lube in his hand, and used the slick stuff to prepare both himself and Simon, quickly plunging into the heat. He grasped Simon's weeping cock, set a tempo, and began moving.

Simon climaxed suddenly, throwing his head back in a soundless cry as hot come splattered over his smooth skin and Mal's hand. Mal kept his rhythm going for about a minute more, until his orgasm caught up, spurting deep within and pulling a wordless groan from his throat.

Sweat dripping off his hair mixed with the sweat and semen on the pale chest below him, and Mal pulled the languid body up to his, and kissed the willing mouth one more time.

This final kiss tasted less of desperation, more of hope. As before, he drank in as much as he could, letting it fuel the small spark trying to fill the hole deep inside his soul.

There would have to be words, but words could wait until morning. Now, there was just quiet, and the two of them. And a glimmer of hope.


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