Disclaimer: All belong to Joss. I got nothing but a dirty mind. Characters: Jayne/Kaylee Warning: Hard R for graphic sex, adult language and light D/s. Don't say I didn't warn you. Setting: Post BDM Word Count: 2,200-ish

A/N Prompted by a History Channel program on the development of artillery and my ability to take even innocent expressions and turn them into double entendres. It was one of those days...

X-Posted from my LiveJournal

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Fire in the Hole

My girl’s been runnin’ hot for days now, and I can’t seem to figure out what’s out of whack with her. I tried resetting the cooling jacket for the engine core, backin’ off on the reactor rods to damp her down, even venting some of the excess heat into the Black. While these all help some, they’ve all got their down sides, and the Cap’n’s got his suspenders in a knot over a bank job on Junia we can’t be late for, so I gotta keep tinkerin’.

For the past 24 hours, I’ve been recycling some of the excess heat into the ship’s atmo. Keeps us flyin’ but makes for a pretty miserable environment. It’s about 110 degrees and the menfolk are down to shorts, or, as in Jayne’s case, a pair of boxers. I ain't used to seeing’ a ship full of half-naked men wanderin’ about and they sure ain't helpin’ me cool off any!

River’s taken to wearin’ an short, airy blue gauze shift and even Zoë changed into a tank top, although she’s still wearin’ her pants and boots. Must be pure miserable. Me? I dug around in my stuff and found a little aqua cami comes about half down my ribs and the skimpy li’l pair of cut-offs I keep for goin’ swimmin’ when we’re dirtside somewhere’s with clean water. Oh, and flip-flops, cause bare feet in an engine room is askin’ for trouble. O’course, I got my hair all twisted up, just so it don’t smother me.

To top it off, the recovery unit that’s supposed to strip the humidity out of the atmo so’s we have plenty of bath and drinkin’ water ain't workin’ quite right, neither. Makes for a bunch a miserable, sweaty people, I can tell you.

I’ve about decided part of the problem is in the main engine thermocouple, so I’ve pulled the gorram casing out and onto the deck, where I can get to it better. I’m squattin’ down, unboltin’ the cap so’s I can get to the actual thermocouple itself, and next thing I know, the engine room door creaks shut and there’s Jayne, leanin’ back against that hatch, his hand down his drawers, just strokin’ his da diao. He grins suggestively. “You been workin’ on this damn engine for three ruttin’ days, girl,” he drawls. “Figured you might need a break.”

I put my wrench down and turn around so I can see ‘im better, and what I see looks mighty fine. He takes real good care of himself with them weights and the sheen of sweat on him just makes his muscles shine.

I grin back, cause he’s right – everybody needs a break once in a while. “Latch it,” I tell him – we don’t need Simon or the Cap’n walkin’ in on us right now. It ain't been that long since I broke it off with Simon. It was all good, but after Jayne, I ain't so sure anybody else’d be enough anymore.

“Already did,” he smirks. He steps closer and turns me around so my aft end’s up snug against his cock an’ I’m bracing my arms against part of the cowling. “Spread ‘em,” he growls, toeing my feet further apart. I already got a good idea where this is going, and waggle my rump against that thick rod jutting out of his shorts.

First he pushed my top up and I yank it off and toss it onto the hammock, then he unbuttons my shorts and shoves ‘em down. “Kick ‘em off,” he whispers to me and tosses ‘em on top of my cami. “I wanna be able to run my hands all over ya.”

I still got on a little pair of white cotton panties – a girl’s kinda gotta wear unders with shorts that short – but I hear the ‘snick’ of Jayne’s switchblade and they’re history. “Damn, Jayne! I liked them!” I fuss at him over my shoulder, and before I can spit, he’s used ‘em to tie my hands to one of the power conduits in front of me at about chest height.

I can hear him strippin’ off his shorts. I strain to try to see him but he manages to stay out of my visual range and the next thing I know, I can feel him against me again, slick with sweat, his massive arms cupping my body against his. He bends to suckle my neck, nuzzling his way through the strands of hair that have worked loose. I can feel the scratch and rasp of his stubble against my skin and then the sharp, bright nip of his teeth. It makes me shiver and he whispers teasingly, “What’s the matter, baby…?”

All I can do is moan.

He bends to me and cradles his length between my ass-cheeks, just grinding himself against my body. We’re both dripping with sweat now that the hatch is closed, and our bodies slip and slide together in a delicious sort of way. Big hands clasp my waist, then skim over my ribs to cup my breasts. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs in my ear as he kneads them and then begins to pinch and roll my nipples between his rough fingers, making them ache and sting so sweetly.

Just as I relax into the sensation, Jayne shifts an’ brings his big ol’ hand down against my bottom with a sharp ‘smack’ that makes me jump. He knows that’s part of what I like about him – he don’t mind playin’ a little rough sometimes. It ain't like he’d really hurt me or nothin’; leastwise, I don’t think he would. I press back against ‘im, doin’ my best to rub against ‘im with my ass. He gives me a couple more smart slaps and the skin where he spanked me feels even hotter than the engine room.

The spankin’ stings, but in a sexy sort of way that’s gradually spreadin’ to my nethers. Now mind you, when my Pa used to whup me for sneakin’ out at night, it hurt. Weren’t nothin’ sexy about that. Mostly, it was just embarassin’. But when Jayne does it, well, he goes about it just right.

He nibbles a wet trail down my spine, stoppin’ along the way to lick and suck at the sensitive places and his gun hand slips down to dip into my wetness. I never knew a man who was so good at teasin’ a girl. At first, he just barely strokes me until I’m so hungry for more I grind against his hand. He starts to strum at my clit with his middle finger, just flickin’ back and forth over the tip of it so light and fast I can hardly bear it, but then he don’t let me come.

“God, Jayne – please!” I beg and he just laughs that wicked laugh. Hún dàn!

“Want somethin’, baby girl?” he asks, that voice of his all low and mockin’, and then he spanks me again, right sharp. It stings, but I don’t mind when he bends close and lays kisses over the hot, red spot where his palm landed. “You want somethin’, you’d best ask real nice for it,” he taunts me.

Damn the man. It just amuses the hell out of ‘im to make me beg like this. ”Chur ni-duh!”I tell him and he just laughs and goes back to teasing my nethers with them big, rough fingers, takin’ me right to the edge and easin’ off, until my legs is shakin’ and I think my knees are just flat-out gonna fail me.

“All you gotta do is ask, baby. You know that.” His voice goes low and silky and I swear the devil must talk just like Jayne Cobb.

I got a little low wooden step stool he built to help me reach some of the switches and connections up high in the engine room. Li’l thing’s come in real handy, and not just for workin’ on Serenity – after all, Jayne’s way taller’n me. He hooks the stool over with a booted foot and tells me to step up on it, so I do.

Now that I’m closer to his level, things heat up even more. I can hear him spit into his palm an’ start to slick himself up good. First he teases my clit with his diao, rubbin’ himself against me, then he grabs the damn thing and slaps it quick-like against me ‘til I’m right on the edge. I’m panting and wigglin’ every way I can, trying to manage to get off but Jayne don’t let me come.

I whine out of pure frustration and he just laughs at me. “No, baby. See, you ain't asked nice like I told ya. You’re bein’ stubborn, but I can be stubborner.”

That’s for damn sure.

He steps around beside me and threads one hand into the wound-up knot of my hair while the other guides his dick into my mouth. God was real generous to Jayne Cobb and much as I love suckin’ him off, I’d rather be the one in the pilot’s seat, if you catch my drift. Not this time, ‘though. He anchors my head and methodically fucks my mouth while I do my best to be careful with my teeth and breathe whenever I can. I could do a better job in some other position, but he don’t give me the chance.

Sweet Buddha, I love the taste and smell of him, even all sweaty like he is. Simon always tasted like soap, which ain't such a bad thing, but Jayne just tastes like man. He’s heatin’ up, too, and his breathin’ gets loud and heavy. No way I can take him in very deep at this angle, but it must feel good from the way he groans, his pre-come flooding onto my tongue. The way that meaty head flares and swells in my mouth, I know he’s close to comin’ himself, but then he pulls free and steps back behind me and gives me another smack, a hard one.

“Ow!” I bark over my shoulder. “What was that for?”

“’Cause your ass was coolin’ down.” He snickers. “But I’m about to fix that.”

He crouches and his hands part my pigu as his tongue begins to trace my folds. I arch my back, offerin’ my clit for him to suck on. Big arms wrap around my hips and he plunges his face into my wet flesh, lapping and slurpin’ and nibblin’ like a starvin’ man. Damn, it feels so sweet and ‘fore I know it, I start to shake. The hell with this ‘stubborn’ thing, I think. I just gotta get off.

“Ja-ayne,” I beg. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please make me come,” I wail.

He growls and next thing I know, he shoves himself deep into my core, hot and thick and wonderful. The way he’s gripping my hips as he pumps into me, I know I’ll have bruises for a week, not that it matters. What matters is the delicious wave of heat and light buildin’ fast in my belly.

“Oh fuck, you feel good, baby girl,” he rasps out against my back. “So tight, so hot…” He starts to do this thing where he hooks his hips and catches somewhere deep inside me and I love it. He’s slammin’ in and out of me as fast as he can drive, with us so wet from the heat and the sexin’ and I realize we’re both teeterin’ on the edge.

There’s somethin’ Jayne hollers when he’s fixin’ to toss a grenade. I got to wonderin’ about it one day after a job. Seems that long ago on Earth-That-Was, sailin’ ships had heavy guns called cannons, big, heavy tubes with a touch-hole drilled near the closed end. The gunners would pack ‘em full of gunpowder and shot and wadding, and then tip more powder into the touch-hole. When the time came to shoot ‘em, a fella with a burning wick would touch it to the powder trail and yell, “Fire in the hole!” so’s the others would know the thing was about to go boom.

I can hear somebody screamin’ and realize it’s me, fallin’ over the edge into full burn, takin’ Jayne with me. He grunts real loud and shudders as he comes, pumpin' his hot jizz into me.

“Fire in the hole!” I say, soon as I can speak, and he laughs.

“Sure as hell got that right.” He laughs and sways back, pullin’ out of me. I can feel the flood of wetness streaming down my thighs and realize how cramped my back is now.

“How ‘bout you cut me loose, okay?” I ask ‘im, and he does once he finds his knife.

He holds up my poor little shredded panties and shakes his head, then asks me, “Can I keep ‘em – you know, as a souvenir?”

That man. I laugh and nod, so then he steadies me against him and uses ‘em to sop up the mess. “Just gives me more to remember ya by, “ he teases. He picks up his boxers and pulls ‘em on. “Think you can concentrate enough to fix the atmo now?"

“I ain't promisin’, you perv,” I grin back, real saucy, ”but if’n I don’t, maybe you can come back and help motivate me again.”

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End