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Simon looked down at the bloody gauze in his hands and was suddenly overcome by revulsion at the sight of it. The gauze got hastily tossed in the garbage, followed by his gloves. "I don't want to keep doing this," he whispered, washing his hands.
"It's part of the life we live," Mal said quietly. "Just how it goes."
He jumped, startled at the sound of Mal's voice. "I--ah--didn't realize you were still here." He shut off the water and dried his hands.
"Wanna talk about it?" Mal asked.
"No." The word came out sharper than Simon had wanted and he sighed in apology. "No, I'll be fine."
"Uh huh." Mal crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the bed. "Sure about that?"
"You said it yourself, it's part of the life we live." Simon shrugged. "I'm just tired of stitching people up every time I turn around."
Mal spread his hands. "Haven't had to stitch me up in a while," he pointed out.
"You call three weeks and two days a while?" Simon asked.
"You counted?" Mal raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"I, ah..." Simon shrugged. "Figure of speech?"
"Pretty precise figure of speech." Mal smirked at him and Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Careful, Simon--keep that up and I'll start to think you care."
Something inside Simon snapped and he stalked over to Mal, arms folded tightly across his chest, ignoring any ideas of personal space. "It doesn't matter if I do, does it?" he asked, almost angrily. "It doesn't matter what I think, or what I feel, so long as I do my job. Right, Captain?"
Mal stared at him but Simon didn't give him a chance to respond. "You'd prefer it if I didn't," he said, his voice low and tense. "You'd rather everyone was like--like a robot. Like you. But I'm not, and I can't--I won't live like that." Somehow he'd uncrossed his arms and was now gripping Mal's triceps. "Yes, I counted! I count how long it is between every time a gorram member of this crew ends up on my table, because I keep hoping that one of these days I'll lose track because it's been so long." He snorted. "Do you think I don't care about the people I operate on?"
"No," Mal said quietly. "Never thought that."
Simon's hands were digging into Mal's arms; it couldn't be comfortable but Mal didn't push him away and Simon couldn't relax his grip. "We're trained to keep our distance. You can't be a good doctor if you get involved with a patient." Simon laughs bitterly. "What kind of doctor am I, then?"
"You're not involved with anyone," Mal points out.
"Doing and wanting aren't that different where this is concerned, and..." Simon trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
And then, somehow, Mal leaned forward just a little, just as Simon did, and their mouths met. Simon's was half-open in surprise and he made a little choked noise when Mal's tongue slipped inside to dance with his.
"And it's not that far from wanting to doing," Mal murmured.
Simon's hands fell; Mal caught them, linked their fingers together. "I ain't a robot," Mal said softly. "Far from it."
Simon raised their linked hands and kissed Mal's knuckles. "Prove it," he said, sliding his hand out of Mal's and drawing Mal's index finger into his mouth. His eyes half-closed as he sucked on it, tasting salt and callused skin.
"Here?" Mal sounded a little breathless and Simon grinned to himself.
He let Mal's finger slip out of his mouth. "It's as good a place as any, if we tint the windows and lock the door," he said. "Which is easily done."
Mal caught his jaw, drew him in for another kiss. "So do it."
It took thirty seconds to darken the windows and secure the door and return to Mal, who was still leaning against the bed. "Not a robot, huh?" he asked, amazed at how well he fit against Mal's body.
"Nope." Mal bit his earlobe, dragged his lips down Simon's throat. "This feel mechanical to you?" He took Simon's hand and placed it over his erection.
"I'd need to look at it to make sure." Simon angled his head up for another kiss.
"You do that."
He didn't bother with shirt or suspenders, just unfastened Mal's pants and slid his hands inside. Mal made a little gasp when Simon's hands wrapped around him and his head fell back when Simon squeezed gently. "Definitely doesn't feel robotic," Simon murmured. He leaned forward to nip Mal's throat, tasting the pulse beating under his skin. "Of course, the only way to really tell is to make you come."
Mal swallowed. "How do you plan on doin' that?"
"I want to fuck you," Simon breathed against his throat. "Can I do that?"
Mal shuddered against him. "God, yeah," he whispered. "Been a while."
"I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't." Mal grinned and kissed Simon's jaw. "You'd just have to fix it."
"And I see no point in creating work for myself." Simon bit his throat again. "You make enough for me as it is."
"Gotta keep you busy somehow." Mal sounded strangled now; Simon worked one hand deeper into his pants and cupped his balls, causing Mal to shudder again. "Course, I'm beginnin' to like this method too..."
"I thought you might." Simon pulled his hand out of Mal's pants. "I can't fuck you if I can't get to your ass," he pointed out, vaguely surprised his voice wasn't shaking.
"Right." Mal swallowed and shrugged out of his suspenders. Already unfastened, the pants fell down to his ankles, caught by his boots. "You want 'em off or just out of the way?"
"Off, I think." As Mal unlaced his boots and got them and the pants off, Simon opened a drawer and took out a white tube. They'd need this.
When he turned back, Mal had taken his shirt off as well, leaving him naked. "Seemed a mite stupid to leave the shirt on and nothing else," he said with a shrug. "You gonna strip down?" His voice wasn't quite steady and Simon saw his hands trembling just a little.
It made him smile.
"Yeah," he said softly, already kicking off his shoes. "I am."
His hands weren't quite steady either but he got his clothes off without a problem and walked back over to Mal, running his hands up Mal's chest. "Think we'll fit on the bed?" he asked, bending his head to lick one of Mal's nipples.
Mal twitched in reaction. "Think we'd break it, like as not," he said roughly.
"Probably." Simon breathed on the other nipple before sucking it into his mouth. He straightened up and pressed one last kiss to Mal's lips. "Turn around," he said. "We can still use the bed, even if we're not on it."
Without a word, Mal turned around, resting his hands on the bed for balance. "Bend over," Simon said in a low voice.
To his surprise--and intense arousal--Mal did, leaning forward until his head was pillowed on his arms and his chest was resting on the mattress. He'd spread his legs and it was all Simon could do to keep from slicking his cock and just thrusting into him right then and there.
He swallowed, forcing himself under control, and opened the tube. The gel was cold on his fingers and he rubbed it in, warming it until it wasn't quite so cool. He didn't particularly like the medicinal scent of it but it was what they had and it was slick and that was really all that mattered, wasn't it?
Mal hissed when he slid his first finger in and Simon immediately pulled it out, working it in again slowly. "Define a while," he said wryly.
"Fuck--" Mal gasped for breath. "I don't remember."
Given how tight Mal was around him, Simon could well believe that. "I'm going to try not to hurt you," he said carefully. "Tell me if I do."
"Okay."
It took him longer than he would have liked but by the time he had three fingers inside, Mal was relaxed and pushing back against his fingers. "'M okay," Mal ground out.
Simon nodded and slid his fingers out of Mal's body, wiping them on a nearby paper towel before slicking his cock generously. The gel was still cool and he hissed a little as it spread over heated skin.
And then he was pushing inside Mal, and it was hot and tight and like velvet around him and he groaned as he slid deeper, until finally he was all the way inside and Mal was trembling under him.
"You okay?" he asked thickly.
"Mm-hmm." Mal pushed back against him--just a little, in this position he had almost no leverage--and Simon groaned again.
As he moved, he saw goosebumps form on Mal's shoulders and back and couldn't resist the urge to taste them, to lick his skin and taste the sweat beading there. His teeth grazed Mal's shoulders and Mal shuddered. Simon grinned to himself, bit down harder, and was rewarded with a choked moan and clench of Mal's body around him.
Mal was gasping for breath now, trying to move back against Simon. "More," he whispered. "C'mon, Simon, I can take it..."
"I know you can." Simon pushed into him harder. "But I don't want to rush this."
"Simon..." Mal's voice was strangled.
There were times that knowing human anatomy was extremely useful. Simon shifted angles just a bit and Mal cried out, low and harsh. "There," Simon whispered. "That's it."
Mal was shaking now, every thrust of Simon's increasing his tremors. Simon heard panting and didn't know if it was his or Mal's. "Simon--" Mal groaned. "Simon, please--"
Mal's begging undid him the way nothing else could have and Simon slammed into him, hard and fast, holding on so tightly his knuckles were white. "God," he groaned, feeling his orgasm begin to coil in his belly. "Mal, tell me you're close, I can't hang on much longer--"
He didn't get a verbal answer, but then again he didn't need one. Mal cried out again, the same low, sharp sound as before, and came, gasping for air.
That was all he needed. Simon let go of the control he'd been clinging to and came, spilling his seed deep inside Mal before nearly collapsing on top of him. It took a minute before he remembered to pull out, after which he sat down on the nearest available surface--the floor, in this case.
Mal stayed where he was for a few minutes before pushing himself to his feet. "So am I a robot?" he asked, a little groggily.
Simon couldn't help it--he snickered.
"I'll take that as a no." Mal reached for his pants and pulled them on, fastening them before picking up his shirt. But his hands were trembling just enough that he couldn't button it.
"Here," Simon said, getting to his feet. "Let me help you with that." He buttoned the shirt for Mal, resting his hands on the soft fabric.
"Thanks." Mal wrapped his hands around Simon's wrists, looked down at him. "Next time?" he said lightly. "I fuck you."
With that, he let Simon go and picked up his boots, walking out of the infirmary barefoot.
"Next time?" Simon repeated numbly before remembering to put on his clothes.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to rebecca
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