a Firefly story
by dirty diana
Random smut for my darling skripka. Beta love to sf fan.
Kaylee fits in River, in the twisted middle part, against the pale skin that River scratches with sharp nails, when the outside grows too tight. Kaylee fits, where she rests her head against River's stomach in the middle of the night. She tells River stories. River doesn't understand them all, but she likes the sounds. Kaylee's words touch her skin and stick there. Home.
Kaylee tells her about engines, and the stories are pictures in her head. The engines inside Kaylee's stories clink clack click together, and Serenity rolls over, purring into the black.
Kaylee fits, and River tried to explain this to her once. Here, in the dark, mouths touching. But the thoughts that were so clean in her head were a mess on her tongue.
Kaylee smiled, and kissed her, and Kaylee's mouth was soft, but she didn't understand. River didn't try to explain it again.
River slips into Kaylee's room in the middle of the night. Every night. Hiding. In the middle of the night it is quietest, and River doesn't try to explain anything at all.
Instead she holds on, to Kaylee's fingers, intertwined with hers on worn, clean bed sheets.
Then they are two people living in one breath, palms, fingers, mouths, and all the thoughts are gone. River doesn't talk at all. She lets Kaylee talk, Kaylee's laughter breaking the warm, breathless silence. Kaylee's voice finds the corners, as she switches on a low light.
"To see you better," she says, and her mouth touches River's one more time, gravitates towards her, warm and sweet.
Kaylee looks. River has forgotten what it is to be looked at. She has forgotten what it is to be anything at all. Sometimes, on some nights, River breaks.
Rivers cries. She never means to, but she can't help it. It's the taste and the touch that shakes everything loose. She lets go, shameless, underneath the cover of Kaylee's skin. Kaylee's fingers touch her everywhere, lips, neck, shoulders.
River cries until there's nothing else inside, emptied out and spread across the air. Salt tears streak her face, and she forgets to wipe them away.
Kaylee kisses her, with a soft, sweet tongue, pushing inside River's mouth. Gentle, teasing, slow. Kaylee waits. Her hands are patient, down the length of River's body, underneath her nightdress. River arches her back, spreads her thighs, parts her lips but makes no sounds.
Yes. Please. More. She can't ever say the words.
Kaylee's fingers are strong inside her, in between soft whispers as Kaylee talks to her. Kaylee says her name. Rhythm follows rhythm, sweet, stop, go, pushing faster as River twists against the sheets.
Kaylee waits, and then River gasps, one single moan . The she releases, all of her, losing balance, tumbling, breaking, sinking.
Kaylee reaches up, and smiles. Then kisses her, and now River remembers what she tastes like, now River wants to watch Kaylee break, into perfect sweet pieces that she can gather with her hands.
Kaylee's breasts fill her fingers. Kaylee fits, all of her, breasts and waist and thighs and hips, and bellybutton, where Kaylee giggles. River laughs with her, and listens to Kaylee breathing. In, out, stop, shallow and quick and hopeful. River's mouth leaves trails of wetness against blushing skin, sweet marks of red where River presses and bites, just to see. Then River's tongue finds the right place, and Kaylee arches. Kaylee whispers her name.
Kaylee tastes bitter, like salt. Kaylee's hips move and push against her, until she has just what she wants, and then Kaylee sighs, a sweet release of breath as fingers tangle in the length of River's hair.
Kaylee makes noises, yes, please, now, and River listens, presses harder, and then waits for the one perfect sound, one low sweet moan as Kaylee reaches the top, and then slips helplessly down.
River rests her head against Kaylee's chest, and listens to her breathing.
"That was nice," Kaylee whispers.
"I know," River tells her. She finds a smile.
Kaylee fits. River stays into the morning.