title: Drunk?

fandom: Firefly

author: nancy

pairing: Mal/Simon (with peripheral Jayne *grin*)

rating: NC17

email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com

feedback: yes, please!

archive: sure! just let me know

summary: er, sex. that's about it.

warnings: sex. bad language. a hint of voyeurism, okay, more than a hint. *grin* disclaimers: not mine, never will be and I bet they wish they were! *grin* notes: For: dirty diana's cliché fic challenge. Drunk!Simon, sortof, pushy-bottom, definitely. ;o) more notes: thanks to skrip for the almost beta. she offered, I decided to post anyhow. all errors, as usual, all mine. *grin*

Diyu, weishenme bu? = hell, why not?


"I am not drunk."

Mal stifled a grin as he took in Simon slanted to the left. "You're not, huh?"

"No," Simon said, putting a finger on his nose. "See?"

Nodding, Mal replied, "That might work better if you were standing up straight."

"I am," Simon exclaimed, indignant.

Mal closed the distance between them and gently put him upright.

Simon blinked in surprise. "Hey, you're not slanted anymore."

"Imagine that," Mal agreed, dry. "Come on, Doc, let's get you home."

Looking around, Simon frowned and said, "Where am I?"

"A bar. How'd you get here anyhow?"

"Um..."

"Never mind. I'll ask when you're sober."

"I am sober!"

"Sure Doc, whatever you say."

"Ow!"

"See now, if you were sober, you'd've noticed that pole in the middle of the floor."

Simon glared at Mal and accused, "You're enjoying this!"

Smirking, Mal replied, "Won't be denying that one."

Mal slipped an arm around Simon's waist and led him out of the bar. It was a really nice bar and Mal made a note to slip the bartender something the next morning for calling him to let him know Simon was literally leaning into the wind. Simon sagged against him...no, no that would be burrowing, cuddling even. "Ah, Simon?"

Sighing, Simon replied, "Yesh?"

A laugh escaped, but Mal just managed to turn it into a cough. "You seem awfully...cuddly tonight."

"Thanks, so do you," Simon answered, smiling foolishly as he beamed up at Mal.

Okay. That hadn't really been a compliment but sure. Why not? Grinning, Mal said, "You're welcome."

They got to Serenity without trouble but once there, Mal discovered how much of an ornery drunk Simon could be.

Pulling away, staggering a few feet off, Simon stated imperiously, "I'm not tired."

Setting his jaw, Mal pointed out, "And you're not drunk, either."

"That's right," Simon agreed.

"All right, enough of this."

And then Mal discovered that Simon was a surprisingly nimble drunk when he wanted to be. He wound up chasing the younger man all over the cargo hold in a mini-game of hide-n-seek. Looking around a crate, he exclaimed, "Simon! Gorram it, I ain't in the mood!"

"You're never in the mood, that's the problem."

Mal whirled around to find...his eyes bulged. Skin. Lots and lots and lots of bare skin. Muscles, lean body, and hard cock…Mal jerked his eyes back up to a respectable level and croaked, "Simon?"

Slinking across to him, Simon grabbed his shirt and hauled Mal in, seizing his lips as he backed Mal against the wall. The kiss was hot and hard, Simon's tongue thrusting into Mal's mouth as he devoured it. Moaning, Mal's leg spread for better support and one of Simon's thighs moved between them, pushing against his hardening cock. Breaking the kiss off, he gasped, "You're not drunk!"

Simon's smile was wicked as he replied, "I told you I wasn't drunk. Medacad student, remember?

Right. Inhuman tolerance to drink and drug, according to rampant rumor. Then Mal discovered that Simon really had very few inhibitions about public sex, too. Hands undid his belt while Simon kissed him again, slow and deep, not as desperate as before, probably because Mal was going along with it. He was insane, but he was going along with it.

Diyu, weishenme bu?

Mal's hands landed on Simon's bare ass and yanked him in hard, provoking a squawk of protest as their bodies met, trapping Simon's cock. He took over the kiss and turned them around, putting Simon against the wall instead. He gripped Simon's cock and squeezed, enjoying the moan that Simon made into his mouth.

It was only seconds before Mal's pants were shoved down and he was on his knees sucking on Simon's cock. Nice cock, more than a mouthful, that was for damn sure. Simon moaned and his fingers laced into Mal's hair, silently encouraging him to go down more. It had been a while, but he managed it, going further and further just a little at a time. Soft grunts from above urged him on, Simon's hips rolling lazily in counter-rhythm.

When he was all the way down, Simon groaned, deep and low, and came, shuddering. Mal pulled back and caught most of it in his mouth, then milked the rest into his hands. Coating his own cock with Simon's seed, Mal stood and turned Simon around. Leaning in, rubbing his cock around the opening to Simon's body, Mal whispered, "I need to see you really drunk, one of these days."

Simon chuckled weakly. "Never happened. My body's far too inured to it."

"We'll match you with Jayne and see what happens," Mal promised, pushing in just a little, then backing off.

Groaning, Simon demanded, "Do we have to talk about him now?"

Mal nipped at his shoulder and answered, "Depends. You mind that he's watching?"

"What? Where?"

"On the catwalk, off to starboard."

Gooseflesh erupted all over Simon and his head fell forward.

"I'll take that as a, `no, I don't mind at all,'" Mal muttered, pushing his cock in again, only this time, stayed halfway in to give Simon time to adjust.

Simon's legs splayed apart more and his hands braced against the wall as he ordered, "Fuck me!"

"Your wish," Mal replied, shoving the rest of the way in.

A surprised yelp escaped Simon, but there was no other protest, so Mal started thrusting. He could hear the breathy grunts from above and a shiver ran through him at the thought of their spectator. Imagining Simon sucking Jayne while Mal rutted into his body just like now. Fucking him hard enough to jostle Simon's flesh and cause little whimpers of need to slip out, whimpers muffled by Jayne's big cock.

Just the feel of Simon, the tight sleeve of his body around his cock, was driving Mal really fast to the edge. He pushed flush against Simon and humped into him, digging his shaft deep inside and reaching around to find the other man half-hard again. Ruthless, Mal jacked him and played with his balls while he continued to thrust.

"Mal, oh shit, Mal!" Simon moaned, fingers scrabbling desperately at the unyielding wall. "Harder, need it hard, please!"

Panting, Mal got some distance just so he could put more force into his thrusts. That meant he had to stop jerking Simon off. There was no complaint, just a tortured cry on the edge of orgasm as Simon shoved back to meet him. A muffled curse echoed from Jayne, and that seemed to set off Simon's second orgasm. His ass tightened mercilessly on Mal's cock and with one more shove in, Mal came, spilling deep inside Simon.

Mal rested full-length against Simon, breathing heavy as his heart thundered in his chest, his forehead against Simon's shoulder as the world slowly returned.

Sighing in contentment, Simon murmured, "Deceased now. Try again later."

With a chuckle, Mal kissed the bare skin and pulled out. "You all right?"

Simon turned and leaned against the wall, grinning slowly at him as he answered, "Give me ten minutes, you can try it again and find out."

Mal's jaw dropped. Gathering his composure, he said, "Get your clothes."

Making a face, Simon sauntered away.

Watching him, Mal wasn't sure how Simon managed to make that dignified, his ass red from the pounding he'd just taken, but he did.

Shaking his head, he called out, "You want to try that drinking competition now?"

"Sure," Simon called back from amidst the crates.

Mal grinned wolfishly and called out, "Jayne! Get your ass to my quarters!"

~fin.

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