The sound echoed off the walls of the cargo hold as though it would never stop. The roar was somehow more than bestial but undeniably had its origins in a man. A large man, in fact. A large man, broad in muscle and rather scruffy in appearance, hunched over a crate that had nearly fallen on his booted toes. So heavy was the crate, in fact, that strapping Jayne Cobb was unable to move it more than a few yards before something egregious went wrong in his body and he dropped it.

Wash, wearing an aberrantly concerned look on his otherwise jovial face, was immediately beside Jayne, a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, shaking Wash off. Jayne straightened up very slowly, his right hand pressed against the crease that joined leg, hip and abdomen. He winced.

“Um, no, I don’t think you are.”

“I’m thinkin’ maybe I pulled somethin’.” Jayne began moving awkwardly away from the boxes. Wash stayed close to him, hands floating near Jayne’s body, hesitant to anger the mercenary by touching him out of an unmanly sense of concern.

“Do you want me to help you to the infirmary, have Simon look at you?”

“No, gorram it!” He swung an arm wildly to his side to shoo Wash away. “I’m fine. I’m just gonna go lay out for a while.” Jayne continued to grumble as he limped out of the cargo hold. Once he was in the corridor, and out of Wash’s earshot, he groaned loudly through gnashed teeth, “Liu kou shui de biaozi he houzi de erzi”. {“son of a drooling whore and a monkey”} It suddenly seemed like a very long trek from the common room to his bunk nearest the bridge. He didn’t even want to think about the ladder.

It would turn out that the walk was nearly tolerable but the ladder was sheer torture. Jayne felt as though he were being stabbed each time he extended his leg even slightly, and he knew of stabbing from personal experience. By some luck he could not reconcile, he was finally on his bunk. Jayne drew his knees up to his chest and locked them there with muscular arms. If nothing caused him to move for the next few hours or even days, it would suit him fine. There was a fifth of whiskey near his bed, as there always was, and he pawed clumsily until he found it. ‘Ah, mother’s love,’ he thought. Jayne nursed the bottle steadily, with restrained enthusiasm. He hadn’t eaten yet that day, so the tonic had no obstacles in lulling him to sleep. Near the end of the whiskey, Jayne curled an arm around it, as a child does a stuffed bear, and determined to sleep away this bothersome and inconvenient injury.

The muted clang of shoes on ladder rungs woke Jayne. It was Simon with his medical bag, unsolicited and unwanted. Jayne growled softly as he struggled to sit up and look supercilious and unconcerned. “I don’t remember callin’ for you.”

Simon stepped from the bottom run of the ladder and crossed the room with calm efficiency, med-kit in one hand. “You didn’t. Wash told me you pulled a muscle moving the cargo. I thought you might want some painkillers.”

“Got it handled already,” Jayne declared and tipped back the last ounce of whiskey.

“Uh huh. Well, at least let me examine you, to make sure there’s nothing more serious.”

Jayne began to protest the unnecessity of it, but Simon had already set his bag on the floor and was pushing Jayne backwards with the surety of a doctor ordering a patient. “What do you think yer doing?” He swatted Simon’s hands away and lay back on the bunk, very, very carefully stretching his legs out. It felt like white-hot metal fire jolting through his abdomen and pelvis.

“I’m your medic. I’m attempting to examine you. Where do you feel the pain predominantly?”

“Right around here,” he waved a hand over his right hipbone. Simon pressed gently where Jayne had indicated, eliciting a jerk from Jayne’s body and a gasp through his teeth.

“Definite reaction to palpation. I’d theorize that-”

“It’s bad enough you come down here and poke at me. Can’t you just talk normal for once?” Jayne snarled.

Simon just sighed quietly. “Fine. I’m concerned that you may have a hernia. You’ll need to take your pants off.”

Sitting up far more quickly than he would have if he’d thought about it first, Jayne looked Simon square in the eyes. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

“I need to rule out a hernia. If you had a hernia and it became strangulated-“

“At least that big word I know.” The room was quiet for a moment. It seemed to Simon that Jayne’s physical discomfort couldn’t be so severe, if he was willing to waste so much time at loggerheads with him, but finally, with a great sigh, Jayne stood up and unfastened his pants. They dropped unceremoniously to his calves. At Simon’s nod, he pushed his boxer shorts as far down his thighs as he could without angling his body. “There.” Already gloved, Simon slid his fingers behind Jayne’s scrotum and probed gently. In the whole of his years, Jayne hadn’t had much legitimate doctoring and he’d never been examined for a hernia before. He breathed loudly through his nose as the exam continued, seemingly endlessly. “I bet yer probly enjoying this, ain’tcha?”

“Actually, this is on my short list of things I’d rather not be doing just now,” Simon replied dryly. “No one enjoys this.” He glanced down for the first time. Jayne was aroused. His erection stood out solidly from the thatch of dark curls. Simon’s voice was smoky and deep as his eyes met Jayne’s, which grew wide with startlement. “Well, I guess someone does like it, after all.”

Jayne’s head snapped downward to look at the traitorous organ. He had felt heat rising in his skin, but had dismissed it as a taint of embarrassment. The doctor’s hand had felt nice, sure, but this was Simon.

Sliding his hand up, Simon gently wrapped his fingers around Jayne's firm cock. It fit him perfectly, thick and strong. “How does this feel?”

Jayne's nasal breaths were coming faster now and the skin on his arms prickled with goosebumps. “Fine.”

“Only fine? It’s supposed to feel good. Wait, I know.” Removing his hand for the briefest instant, Simon stripped off his glove with a sharp snap and took hold of Jayne again. His hands were soft and smooth from a life of academia, instead of labor or battle. He began stroking, long, slow motions, only lightly touching the skin. He swirled his thumb around the head of Jayne's organ, elicited a gasp and a rush of color to the otherwise unflappable man's face.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Like any good doctor, I'm trying to relieve your suffering. Well, truth be told, I’m taking sexual advantage of you, though somehow I hardly think it's ‘taking’.”

Unconsciously, Jayne began rocking his hips slightly. "So, you're, uh..."

"Sly?" Simon added his other hand and Jayne's knees began to waver. "Yes, I’m homosexual. You?"

"Kinda, I guess. Had a fella tell me once I was an "opportunist"." Jayne reached a tentative hand out and began rubbing Simon's erection through the material of his fine trousers. Simon sighed deeply and gave Jayne's member an appreciative, and well received, squeeze.

"Why don't you lie back on the bunk, try to get comfortable?"

Reluctant to abandon the skillful hand, Jayne sat back on his bunk, pants still around his calves. Peeling his t-shirt up and over his head, he kicked off his boots and shook off his pants.

Simon began to undress. Captivated by the singularly unexpected spectacle, Jayne could only watch, eyes wide and mouth dry. He had never looked at Simon in a sexual way. Besides the captain’s prohibition against shipboard relationships (no matter how brief or superficial they may be) there was Simon himself to put Jayne off – overly refined, far too trusting, and as ruthless as a bowl of rice pudding. Now, he was seducing Jayne, standing in the middle of the mercenary’s room, slowly stripping off his clothes. Jayne realized that the slowness was deliberate. Simon was teasing him. This was high in the running for the most improbable happenstance of the day. In fact, rational thought would provide no reason or explanation for this encounter. Thankfully for Jayne, he never applied thought of any caliber to free offers of rumpy-pumpy.

All of the buttons of Simon’s vest and shirt were undone and the garments were shrugged off to be dropped on top of his black bag. “I can tell you’re surprised. Everyone always thinks they know me, that they know what I want. They never do. Not my parents, my teachers, my friends, the captain. I’ve decided it’s time I learned to stand up for my own desires.”

Jayne licked his lips at the sight of Simon’s pale, broad chest. His flat stomach just called to Jayne to be licked, as did the beautiful creases of muscle that ran alongside his hipbones. Simon looked like an angel, even though all of the angels in Grandma Cobb’s books had had long, flowing curls. He had strong muscles belied by his fancy clothes and gentile manner, and captivating blue-grey eyes. A great strength seemed to radiate from him, even as he stood perfectly still. He was the archangel Michael and here, finally, was his sword. It was beautiful, like the rest of his body, pale skin contrasted against a precisely trimmed field of obsidian black hair.

Naked now, Simon knelt next to the bunk and nuzzled Jayne’s cheek. “I can make you feel so good,” he whispered in a voice that sent a shiver up Jayne’s spine. It was the same voice he had heard while the doctor loomed over his pharmacologically paralyzed body, ‘I will never, ever harm you.’ This time, though, the deep sincerity was mixed with anticipation and genuine lust.

Hands as smooth as satin but confidently strong began to explore Jayne's chest as warm lips worked over his ear, jaw and neck. While Simon sucked at a collarbone, the fingertips of one hand slid through the slightly curly hair that formed a diffuse path from Jayne's chest, down his stomach, to points of real interest. Jayne grabbed his wrist suddenly as the hand neared his painful abdomen. Simon just smiled kindly and peeled the strong fingers off. He stroked the tender area soothingly, barely touching the skin at first, and then warming the area with carefully measured friction. Jayne watched with a twist of confusion in his face. Inexplicably, the pain lessened with each pass of the kind hand.

“I told you, I’m going to make you feel better. Trust me.” As lovingly as a mother might soothe a wounded babe, Simon touched his lips to the area known anatomically as “Adam’s girdle.” The warmth of his breath seemed to wash away the last of Jayne’s pain and it also served to return the throbbing urgency to Jayne’s cock that the fear of pain had kiboshed. Simon moved to the flesh that twitched in an urgent attempt to attract his attention. He began by trailing his lips along the ridge, torturously lightly. Jayne clutched the bedsheets with both fists as Simon reached his tongue out tentatively to feel around the corona. One warm breath to tease, two warm breaths to torment, and Simon suddenly swallowed Jayne’s member as far as he could until the head bumped against the back of his throat. Jayne thrust up from the bed, trying to bury himself in the heat. Simon pressed him down as he began to withdraw, sucking strongly. When he held only the head in his mouth, Simon lavished it with varied suction and strokes of his tongue before sliding down again. He smiled as best he could around the large organ as Jayne began to hiss air through clenched teeth and let slip fantastic little strangled moans.

Simon was as fine a cocksucker as he was a doctor, and he was quite skilled as a doctor. Simon abandoned Jayne's cock for a moment, preferring to lick and mouth at his balls instead. Each broad swipe of tongue sent a wave of intense pleasure surging through his body. Simon took each into his mouth in turn and lavished them with attention. The shockingly strong sensation was replaced by one of more soothing satisfaction as the masterful tongue traced tiny shapes on the under-appreciated skin of his perineum.

Jayne reached out and pawed at Simon’s hip, trying to tug him closer. Without breaking his attention from the organ in his mouth, Simon pivoted his body and with considerable grace positioned his body over Jayne’s, his dripping cockhead sliding across Jayne’s lips. Jayne took hold of the slender hips, tipped his head back, and pulled Simon down into his throat. ‘Oh, you gorgeous fucker,’ he thought as Simon’s body tensed and jerked, straining to push into the tight, wet heat even farther. He moaned against Jayne’s cock. Jayne smiled, as much as he could with Simon's sweet length of skin in his mouth; no one ever expected the muscular, aggressive Top of a man to be able to deep-throat so keenly. He pushed Simon's hips back slightly and pulled them forward again, showing him that it was all right to start thrusting. Simon could hardly process the sensations of giving and receiving so much all at once. His breath coming in hard pants, Simon resorted to pumping Jayne with a tight fist as he tried not to thrust too hard into Jayne's mouth.

Jayne could feel the pressure of lust building as Simon’s hand moved furiously. The smell of the man, the taste of his skin, the sounds he made, and the image of coming in Simon’s mouth, or at least on his soft pink lips and aristocratic chin, heightened the experience immeasurably. He thrust against Simon's hand.

‘Too fast.’ Simon realized that he was stroking too fast as Jayne abandoned sucking him so expertly to groan low in his throat. There was too much fun yet to be had for it to end now. He slowed his hand, resting it on the base of Jayne’s shaft, squeezing firmly with his thumb and forefinger. Within a moment, Jayne’s breathing slowed and he purred appreciatively as Simon caressed his balls. Jayne mouthed at the sides of Simon’s shaft and made a small, disappointed sound as the hot and seductively pulsing flesh moved away.

“I know for a fact you ain’t done yet,” Jayne said to the wrong end of the lithe body moving above him.

“Perish the thought.” With his characteristic impeccable coordination, Simon repositioned himself over the large body on the narrow bunk until he was straddling Jayne’s waist. “Tell me you have lubricant handy.” He ran his flat palms up and down Jayne’s chest, being sure to stroke the dusky nipples.

Without needing so much as a glance or a moment’s searching, Jayne produced a flip-top tube of gel lubricant from under the bunk. “You ain’t like to catch me without the right gear on hand.”

Simon took one of Jayne’s work-hardened hands in his and squeezed a generous dollop of crystal clear and cool onto the tips of two thick fingers. “Care to help me with this?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

The lubricant warmed quickly as Jayne circled Simon’s opening with the tip of his index finger. Simon impulsively opened his legs even farther and pushed back slightly as Jayne worked his index finger in one joint at a time. Determined to show Simon that he too could create demanding hunger in his partner, Jayne thrust slowly and deliberately avoided giving Simon’s prostate more than a passing glance. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, Simon’s face began to show the effects of mounting need. ‘Never was the delayed gratification type,’ Jayne thought as he curled his finger slightly. Simon clenched Jayne’s shoulders hard as he gasped sharply, obviously surprised by the shift from teasing to fulfillment. Jayne withdrew slowly and smeared a healthy dose of lube on his cockhead.

Again taking control of Simon by his hips, Jayne held him immobilized. With fantastic unhurriedness, he pulled Simon down, pushing into the tight, but oh-so-willing body. Jayne's head slammed back into the pillow as Simon was finally seated in the cradle of his hips. He could feel his cock throbbing against the tight channel of flesh. Simon was no virgin, but he was perfectly, captivatingly tight. Simon smiled wryly at Jayne's deep-chested moan and began to slowly grind against him.

Simon was definitely different from the men Jayne usually bedded, not that there was often a bed involved. He'd been ridden a few times, but those men had been more like boys - lean and slender, all but skinny, tousled hair, smooth chest, a small trail of hair from their navel down. Simon had the same smooth chest and his skin felt good to Jayne's rough hands as he felt up Simon's arms and over his chest to tweak his nipples. Simon licked his lips and pushed himself harder against Jayne with each downstroke. With a deviously lusty look on his face, Simon stopped his carefully paced movements. Jayne's hands fell away from his chest, but Simon caught them by the wrists and moved the fingertips back again. Not slow to take sexual hints, Jayne resumed pinching, rubbing and twirling Simon's nipples. Simon rose up on his knees, almost high enough to lose the immense feeling of Jayne's organ inside him. Only the head remained, trapped and squeezed by a ring of tight muscles. Simon moved only slightly now, just enough to torture Jayne's cockhead with the firm sensation while the room air chilled the shaft. Jayne's teeth clenched hard again the teasing as he fought the urge to thrust upwards once hard and restore himself to the alluring heat. Simon leaned back and let his body drop down. Both men roared out from the pleasure of it, Jayne from the tight heat that seized him and Simon from the direct, forceful assault to his prostate.

Simon’s head hung all the way back and his nimble surgeon’s fingers dug into the meat of Jayne’s thighs as he leaned backwards. Each time he dropped the weight of his body onto that sweet impalement, pleasure arced through his body. Jayne watched, captivated by the way Simon was using his body and the effect it was having. He watched, that is, when he could negotiate his eyes open against the urgings of immense pleasure to close them.

The air in the cabin became a cacophony of pants and moans, broken only when Simon panted out, “Oh, yes, tianna, fuck me! Make me come, Jayne!”

It was like gasoline on a fire, Simon talking dirty and begging at that. Jayne thrust in earnest, each blessed stab making Simon cry out, and he grabbed Simon’s cock and began stroking. It took only a moment of assault him within and without before Simon came. His orgasm rocked his body like typhoon waves against the shore and he coated Jayne’s stomach and hand in his slick, white seed.

Exhausted, Simon fell forward, catching himself on shaky arms. “Oh god, Jayne. That was so good, Jayne. Jayne.”

“Jayne?” A voice sweet like honey wafted down from the corridor. “Are you okay? You missed most of supper and Wash said you hurt yourself before.”

Jayne blinked repeatedly to clear his eyes and his mind. He was lying on his bunk, on his side, curled around a nearly empty whiskey bottle, with a throbbing erection and in wretched pain. Simon had not been there. “Little Kaylee?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Could you send the doc down here?”

fin