mouseovers for translation
Mal ain’t happy about being treated like a whore by his mercenary. He ain’t happy neither about having to deal with a bunch of nuns when he’s covered in come stains and reeking like a brothel. But most of all he ain’t happy about how horny the smell of that jizz is making him.
As soon as the womenfolk have gone, Mal’s down in his bunk getting washed and changed and the moment Simon and River return, he’s turning over command for the night while his hand rests oh-so-subtly on Jayne’s butt.
“Where’s the best place in town for getting a rut, Doc?” asks Jayne, doubling over with laughter at the look of repulsion on Simon’s face.
“What I tell you?” growls Mal, glaring at the big man who’s looking back at him, narrow-eyed and waiting for his telling off. “Doc don’t dip his wick when he’s in rim territory,” he continues. “It ain’t healthy.”
The laughter gets twice as loud and even more raucous and Simon rolls his eyes. “Go. Please. Now,” he begs and Mal don’t waste the opportunity for some freedom.
“Don’t break my boat,” he calls, already pushing his way through the crowds of traders that line the harbour frontage with Jayne there at his shoulder. Mal can always sense the big man; reckons it’s something to do with that looming shadow of his.
Breathing in deep, Mal smells the bitter citrus scent wafting off baskets of exotic spices and it reminds him of the liberties Jayne took a few hours previously. Making a sudden U-turn, he manoeuvres a path back the way he came, away from the Chinese Quarter and the buzz of life.
“Mal! Where you going? Bars is this way.”
Mal smirks at the whining tone of Jayne’s voice. Man’d do anything for some liquor and a spell of violence and they’ll no doubt get ‘round to having both later, but first off there’s a few things need sorting.
The outlying reaches of the industrial side of town are dirtier, seedier and, most importantly, quiet now that manufacturing’s shut down for the night. There’s row after row of warehouses and work plants and little all else and Mal gulps in anticipation as he heads up one of the dimly lit pathways between the buildings.
“Mal!” calls Jayne from a little way behind him, “Where you gorram heading?”
Mal spins around and leans a hand up against the wall as he stares Jayne up and down.
“Get your kit off,” he says smoothly.
“What?”
“Get undressed.”
“Here?”
Mal smirks at the look on Jayne’s face and at the growing evidence of his merc’s love for danger which is on display in those cargoes.
“Undressed?” says the big man uncertainly.
“Take your clothes off and kneel down for me, Jayne,” says Mal patiently like he’s explaining things to a child.
“To naked?”
“You got it.”
“I ain't -”
“We can do this at gunpoint if it’d help some.”
The material of Jayne’s pants tents a little more and it has to be said Mal gets his own kick from the idea.
Drawing his pistol, he steps forward and presses the barrel against Jayne’s chest, slowly dragging the weapon downwards until it’s resting over the damp patch on Jayne’s pants.
“I said strip.”
Jayne shivers and then shrugs off that old combat jacket of his. Pulling his tee-shirt over his head, he stares intently at Mal then drops the garment and tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, pushing boundaries just enough to tweak the arousal up even more.
“Get on with it.” Mal’s cock is a solid bar in his pants, aching in this deep throbbing way that has him all tensed up and ready to fuck.
Closing in a step, he outlines Jayne’s erection with the tip of his Colt, teasing the metal over the distinct bulbous shape of the swollen head.
“It ain’t loaded.”
“Ain’t it? You sure about that?” says Mal, staring the merc down. “Now get them boots and pants off for me, there’s a feller.” His mouth floods with saliva as he watches the way Jayne works at the fastening of his pants. He loves the feel of them fingers when they’re on him, loves how rutting big yet dextrous they are. No time for foreplay now, though. What Mal needs is a quick hard rut.
With one last uncertain look, Jayne bends over and unlaces his boots then kicks them off, shoving cargos and underwear down to his knees.
Mal watches the pre-come ooze then trickle down that erect shaft and resists the urge to lick it up. “Clothes all the way off, Jayne,” he says in surprisingly steady voice. “I want you naked.” He emphasises his point by running the pistol over Jayne’s cock, his own twitching and leaking at the involuntary gasp of excitement coming from the big man.
“Gorramit, Mal.”
Jayne’s voice is thick, vocal cords tightening from arousal and Mal presses the gun into the soft tissue of Jayne’s ball sac.
“You gonna do as I say?”
Narrowing his eyes, Jayne kicks off his pants and underwear and stands defiantly, as naked as the day he was born, in front of Mal, eyes full of dirty arrogance laced with a tiny speck of fear.
“Good man.” Mal nods in approval. “Now get down on all fours for me.”
Jayne glances over his shoulder and then drops obediently and, hell, if Mal doesn’t have to work hard at reining in a spontaneous orgasm. Shucking off his coat, he discards it on the growing pile of clothing and then unfastens his pants and slides free from his suspenders.
He’s come prepared. Removing a small tube of lubricant from his pocket, he kneels and squeezes out a glob of the gel and whilst he’s pushing down his breeches he’s smearing the slick over Jayne’s arse and is teasing the tip of his pistol over the tiny ring of muscle.
Jayne moans and pushes back against the cold metal.
“Want me to fuck you with this? Want six inches of steel inside you? Hell, you’re a perverted hundan, ain’t you?”
Jayne nods, lurching back and sobbing in a breath, and the base need Mal can hear in the big man’s voice sets off a deep responsive shiver, but it ain’t gonna happen. Fucking Jayne with his pistol may well be a newly discovered kink, but it’s dangerous and, more to the point, it won't get him off. Instead, he lays the weapon carefully to one side and with one brutal shove is embedded, balls deep, inside the mercenary, that vise-like furnace working him up whisper-close to an instant climax. He should’ve loosened Jayne off a little first. This is too rutting good.
Mal thinks about waiting for Jayne to relax some, but then changes his mind and goes at it hard, grit from the compacted dirt track biting into his kneecaps and making him wince.
“Yeah, fuck. Yeah, Mal,” moans Jayne, rolling back against him. The words come too loud for Mal’s liking and he raises his palm, spanking Jayne on his buttock then leaning forward and hooking a cupped hand over the man’s mouth in order to silence him.
Tamade, it’s crazy humping out in the open like this, but that just makes it all the better. The wet mist of breath on his palm adds to the excitement and he tightens his grip, feeling the soft damp moans rather than hearing them, feeling Jayne’s approach to orgasm from the increasing clench of muscle and goose-fleshed skin.
Running his left hand over Jayne’s hairy abdomen, Mal brushes a finger against the ramrod stiff column which jerks in response and leaks out a fresh dribble of fluid. Ignoring the mumbled pleas from the big man, he tickles a path downward, clutching hold of Jayne’s balls, then tugging them hard the way he’s seen the mercenary do when he’s jerking off.
“Jesus!”
His hand clamps down tighter over Jayne’s bearded mouth and Mal closes his eyes as he ruts into that big willing body, letting go and feeling the charge build inside his belly.
Picking up the pistol, he draws it slowly down Jayne’s spine then, when the man throws his head back, climax imminent, Mal reaches beneath him again and clamps his fingers tightly around the base of Jayne’s cock. Squeezing as hard as he can, Mal shudders and groans, his orgasm hitting him with the force of a ten ton weight.
"Hell,” he breathes as he tries to get a grip of himself and make sense of his surroundings, too many white sparks of light going on for him to see straight yet.
There’s a whine of disappointment and then, “Mal?”
“What’s on your mind?” There’s a smirk on the captain’s face as he pulls back and lets go of Jayne’s ji ba, hanging onto a convenient trash can and pulling himself up to standing.
“I ain’t got off yet.” Jayne gets to his feet and turns, frowning at him as he pushes his hips out, his hard-on dark with blood and as angry looking as its owner.
“No you ain’t.” Mal smiles pleasantly. “Nor will you be getting off until I say so.”
“But Mal…” Jayne looks down at his erection and gives it a couple of quick strokes.
“No buts. Now get your hands off your dick and put your clothes back on.”
Mal’s heart speeds up to racing as Jayne does as he’s told without further complaint. He wishes he had a ring to fasten tight around the man’s cock and balls. The penalties for insubordination are sparking his imagination. Jayne’s too, if the look in them dilated blue eyes is anything to go by.