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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
Increasingly frustrated with her limited love life, Kaylee puts her creativity to good use and sneaks a peek at the big man across the hallway.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1142 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Rating/Warning: NC-17, for masturbation, voyeurism, adult sexuality
Pairing: S/K, suggestions of future J/K
Setting: My AU, shortly after my story “How A Woman Is Like A Gun”
Disclaimer: Firefly, Serenity and all related characters are copyright 2002-2005 Mutant Enemy, Inc., Universal Pictures and 20th century Fox. This is a work of fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Cross-posted from my LiveJournal. I’m an unabashed Jaylee shipper – these two have always made more sense to me. Here’s one take on how things might have gotten started…
A DIFFERENT POINT OF VIEW
The past few days it had finally seemed like Simon was beginning to relax with her. The previous evening they’d curled up together on the couch down in the passenger lounge, sharing cups of engine wine and swapping tales. Prospects for the evening looked promising – until River had awakened, screaming.
Fumbling an abrupt apology, the young doctor abandoned the amorous young mechanic to comfort his terrified sibling, leaving Kaylee tipsy, turned on and once again, disappointed.
That night, she cried herself to sleep, her pillow pulled close to stifle her weeping, wondering why she’d even bothered.
The sound of heavy breathing and low, guttural grunting brought her up from sleep. Turning over, she fisted at the sleep grit in her eyes, then pulled her comforter closer around her shoulders.
Jayne was jacking off again.
She sighed. With their compartments nearly across from one another and ventilation ductwork linking them, the big mercenary’s noises came through all too clearly.
The folk that designed my girl must not a cared over much for privacy, she thought with a grimace, and not for the first time.
Kaylee lay in the darkness, breathing in the stuffy canned air from the ship’s atmo system, captive audience to the mercenary’s unselfconscious pleasure. Ain’t never gonna get back to sleep, I gotta listen to that, to him…
Her mind filled in with an unbidden image of the muscular gunhand stroking his swollen cock, and she was surprised at the throbbing response in her nethers. While not neat and educated and well mannered like Simon, Jayne was possessed of a robust masculinity that intrigued the mechanic. The man liked ruttin’ and made no bones about it. And what he lacked in refinement, he made up for with raw sexuality.
The urgency of the sounds drifting through the ductwork increased. If that húndàn’s gonna keep me awake, maybe I best just enjoy myself, too -- Ain’t like Simon’s showin’ no interest…
She slid a hand across her belly and skimmed under her flowered panties to caress her mound, work-roughened little fingers winding through short chestnut curls that were already moist. As she roused herself in time with the merc’s increasingly harsh breathing, she conjured up a vivid image of the man masturbating across the hall.
Kaylee had seen Jayne often enough heading to or from the crew shower with only a towel around his narrow hips or working out in his ratty old gray shorts. She’d even caught a frustratingly brief glimpse of him stark nekkid one time when several members of the crew were skinny-dipping at a lake on Three Hills, enough of a look that she’d realized Vera wasn’t his only big gun.
A deep groan of need reverberated softly from the vent and she felt her core opening in response. Dipping paired fingertips into the nectar pooling between her nether lips, she began to lightly circle her clit, synchronizing her caresses with the rasp of Jayne’s heavy breathing as she began to fuck herself with the fingers of her other hand.
It didn’t take long – for either of them. With the hoarse cry that accompanied the merc’s release, she came, too, arching against her hands and stifling her wail against her pillow.
The worlds and the jobs and the weeks rolled by. Things with Simon weren’t progressing and Kaylee’s patience was increasingly strained. Now she listened at night for the sounds of Jayne’s private play, awaiting them with hunger. She found herself paying more attention to the big mercenary, studying him across the table at supper or lingering over his sweat-drenched body as he pushing his workouts to the limit, lifting the heavy weights over and over.
He’d also taken notice of her increased attentiveness. In truth it pleased him although he was equally puzzled by it. After all, Kaylee still gave every sign of still being sweet on the gorram Doc. He was confident in his appeal with women, and decided to simply enjoy Kaylee’s notice, using her lingering glances as more fodder for his fantasies.
Then came a night on a run from Jiangyin to Beaumonde when neither fingers nor batteries nor all the fantasies Kaylee could conjure were enough, and she was left aching with frustration, her fall as elusive as the payoff from many of Mal’s jobs.
She flung back her sheet and lay sweating in the darkness, her hands balled into fists as she listened to Jayne’s grunts of pleasure as they echoed through the ductwork into her bunk.
Damn! she thought. If I could only see him, watch what he’s doing…That was when the thought struck her. And why not? Nobody knows the workin’s of this boat like I do.
A sly grin emerged as she formed her plan. I can scrounge me up one a them little micro capture rigs, hide it good and set it up to feed remotely to my Cortex link over here. Jayne won’t never know and maybe then it won’t matter so much what kind of ‘respectful’ Simon’s fixed on.
Mal lined up a shaky deal to move genseed and farming equipment. The cargo was packed in crates bearing some form of blue logo the shipper had hastily and not-so-thoroughly obliterated with black spray paint, and Serenity was quickly out-bound for Dyton Colony. There the locals would be grateful enough of the cargo as to ask no questions.
During the four days on dirt it had taken the captain to procure the job, his mercenary had managed to get a serious drunk on and wear out a couple of Madam Caroline’s best girls.
And Kaylee had gone shopping.
While Jayne was halfway between his third bottle of whisky and Annabelle’s firm young thighs, the girl mechanic had returned to the Firefly with a small box and a satisfied grin. Or at least, she told herself gleefully, I oughtta be soon.
It was easy enough for her to open the access panel that led down into the space under the foredeck. Although cluttered with ductwork for the atmo and plumbing and conduit and electrical cables, there was still sufficient room for Kaylee to worm her way the short distance to where Jayne’s empty bunk was located. Crouched down between hoses and pipes, she studied the outside of the bulkhead that formed the inner wall of the merc’s quarters.
“Gotta put this thing somewhere’s I got a clear view of his bunk, but where he ain’t likely to notice it,” she said, weighing her options. Kaylee knew the man had a keen eye and suspicious nature, so positioning the lipstick-sized camera was critical. High on the wall, in the upper corner where the vent from the atmo fed into the cabin, she found a gap less than a half inch wide where two of the plates forming the bulkhead failed to meet correctly. While such a fault in a ship’s hull would be lethal, it mattered little within the pressurized interior.
“Sloppy piece a welding, that,” she muttered, patting the ship as if in apology for the criticism, “but just what I need.” She beamed and tried the small cylinder against the gap, temporarily securing it in place with a length of duct tape. Then she looked down at the portable feed screen balanced on her knee. The view showed her a dim view of Jayne’s lumpy pillow and the upper end of the hanging that covered his ‘Girls’. Not what she needed at all.
“Gotta go lower and to the right,” she observed, adjusting the tiny vid camera until the angle was perfect. Reaching into the thigh pocket of her jumper, Kaylee pulled out a pack of epoxy putty, quickly kneading the two parts into a stiff gray adhesive that she used to permanently fasten the vid unit to the metal. Within a minute the epoxy had set up and was as hard as the bulkhead.
She wiped her hands on her jumper and smiled in satisfaction. “Long as he’s got any light on at all, oughtta gimme a right shiny view!” There was a note of triumph in her voice. “Now I just need him to get motivated.”
It took a couple of days for Jayne to recover from his bender and the robust attentions of Annabelle and Lucy. Kaylee found that watching the mercenary snore and scratch and clean guns didn’t offer much by way of entertainment. It did assure her, however, that her piece of tinkering worked as well as she’d hoped.
By the third day in space, the crew was starting to get bored and antsy. Zoe suggested a game of hoopball, which suited Kaylee just fine, as it afforded her ample opportunity to tease and flirt up Jayne without it being too obvious she was doing so. She knew from past experience the games often left him with a head of steam, and that was just what she wanted.
With Serenity on autopilot, the entire crew joined in, save Inara and the Tams, who cheered the game on from the catwalk overlooking the action. Mal sided with Wash and Zoe against the big merc, Kaylee and Shepherd Book, who proved far more athletic than his silver hair might lead a casual observer to believe. The game proceeded pretty evenly until a charge from Jayne sent Wash sprawling and Zoe called “Foul!”
“Ain’t my fault you done rounded the little man’s heels off so he can’t stand up!” Jayne protested, laughing at Wash rubbing at his bruised backside. The mate gave him a warning glare.
Mal stepped forward, his voice taking on its Captain-y tone “Zo’s right, Jayne. This ain’t a tag ball game and as I reckon it, you ain’t supposed to be crashin’ down no doors. Last thing I need is a pilot as winds up with a busted arm or leg on account you can’t play fair.”
He stuck a hand out and pulled Wash to his feet. “Go get the Doc to check you out, dong ma?” he directed.
It was clear the game was a bust and the last thing Jayne was in a mood for was another dressing down from the captain. “Ruttin’ hell,” he mumbled under his breath. He lobbed the towel he was wiping down with onto the weight bench and stormed up the fore stairs, announcing over his shoulder, “I’ll be in my bunk…”
The others exchanged uncomfortable glances and Mal rolled his eyes. “Man’s gonna clean them guns a his down to naught but steel wool.”
“I just wish he’d clean up his language,” Simon replied.
With a better idea of just what Jayne was leaving to work on, Kaylee tentatively raised her hand. “’Scuse me, Cap’n? I got a system check I best go run.”
Mal nodded absentmindedly, his attention focused on his possibly injured pilot.
The eager mechanic headed up the aft stairs, and rather than turning back toward the engine room, instead went through the common area toward her compartment. She could hear Jayne muttering and cursing softly to himself down in his own quarters, followed by the double thud of his boots hitting the decking.
Quietly stepping onto her ladder, Kaylee softly pulled her hatch closed and secured it. Her heart-shaped face took on an impish grin. Aw, this is gonna be so hot! she salivated, her nethers already aching.
She lowered the lamp over her bunk and switched on her small Cortex screen. Each of the crew bunks had links into the ship’s main feed, but the talented young mechanic had modified hers to accommodate the additional signal from the tiny camera presently trained on the mercenary across the hallway. The image the screen revealed was of a shirtless Jayne Cobb reclining against his balled-up pillow, a pin-up magazine in his hands and a bored, sullen expression on his face.
“Can’t see what he’s readin’ on… maybe if I adjust the brightness…” Kaylee spoke softly to herself as she always did while working on Serenity. Just as she adjusted the control, Jayne shifted position, his bunk light clearly illuminating the magazine’s cover. “Girls and Guns” it said succinctly, and indeed, the glossy holopaper displayed a pair of Amazons toting machine guns and dressed in nothing save ammo belts, too much makeup and seductive grins.
“Figures,” Kaylee snarked.
Flipping through the pages, the merc finally came to an image to effectively kindle his fire. His eyes narrowed and he unconsciously licked his lips, then grinned lewdly. Pay dirt.
Across the hall, Kaylee quickly removed her boots and undid her jumper, stripping off her t-shirt and down to her unders. From what she’d been able to hear, Jayne liked to draw his fun out, and that was just fine by her. She’d been waiting for this show for days.
The mechanic settled herself on her bunk. The image on the small screen was a little grainy and the lighting wasn’t the best. Still, the sight of the merc lightly running his hand over his crotch and then across his chest through the thatch of dark hair to pinch a nipple was enough to make Kaylee’s eyes widen. She realized her mouth was gaping and closed it, unconsciously leaning closer to the Cortex link.
The growing swell at his groin made clear that Jayne liked the centerfold he was studying. He began to tease himself through the knit fabric of his workout shorts. At first Kaylee just stared, intoxicated by the idea that she was witness to something so personal, so private.
Jayne shifted on his narrow bunk and shucked out of his shorts. She’d always suspected he went ‘regimental’ – no drawers meant less laundry to wash – and the vid feed confirmed her suspicion. He clasped the erection that lay warm and heavy against his belly and slowly began to stroke himself.
“Lao-tyen boo!” Kaylee whispered hoarsely, squirming into a more comfortable position. Her hand unconsciously shifted toward her own nethers and she began to caress herself through the thin cotton fabric of her panties. She’d watched her share of Cortex porn and seen fellas occasionally handling themselves during sexin’, but she’d never seen a man totally caught up in self-pleasure, and that man as well-armed as Jayne Cobb.
Some kinda turned on, is what I am, she thought, as the small, warm cabin filled with the perfume of aroused woman. The lewd image of the gunhand jerking off was far better than anything Kaylee’s mind had conjured from his grunts of pleasure.
Her rosy nipples hardened and she shivered slightly, although the atmo was running warm. Her left hand crept up to tweak and knead at her breasts while the right mirrored that action at her ni yin, fingers softly tracing the outline of her lips and swell of her vulva.
Glassy-eyed and breath soft and shallow, Kaylee stared at the image of Jayne teasing himself, his fist sliding up and down his arching shaft, fingerpads lightly swirling over the flared head of his diao, eyes now half-closed and mouth slack with pleasure. Having served its purpose, the magazine slid to the deck, discarded in favor of the waves of pleasure coursing through the mercenary. His massive chest rose and fell as his breath deepened.
A vivid imagination was something Kaylee’d never lacked, but actually watching Jayne jerk off beat imagining him doing it all to hell. The girl flattened her hand and began to slap it smartly against the crest of her mons, vibrations reverberating deliciously through her nethers, the sensation a delicious mix of sting and caress. Now she could feel the hard nub of her clit, rising between the twin swells of her lips.
The cotton knit under her palm grew damper. With a soft moan, she squirmed a little, then raised her full hips to pushed her unders down and off. Beneath the soft light cast by her bunk lamp, her lush young body stood out in contrast against the maroon flannel of her sheets. Ivory skin spangled with a scattering of freckles took on a rosy glow, whether from the bedding or her growing desire.
The merc’s heavy breathing eddied through their common vent, the live sound compensating for the lack of a microphone on her tiny capture unit. “Damn, Jayne…” was all she could whisper to the lust-fueled image in the vid transmission.
Staring at the screen, Kaylee suddenly realized, I ain’t been this turned on by a man since… hell… I can’t honestly recall! It had been too long since she’d actually been sexed properly, certainly well before the Tams and Shepherd Book had come on board. Even after months of wiles, she’d never even managed to finagle a single heartfelt kiss from Simon, and her young body ached with the want of a man to fill and please her.
She studied the roll and shift of the big merc’s massive muscles, the impressive evidence of his manhood. How come I never even realized what was right ’cross the hall from me? she wondered.
Her eyes fixed on the man in the viewscreen, the man across the passage grunting in rhythm with his own strokes, and her breath hitched as her belly cramped with need. With delicate caresses and light, quick vibrations, Kaylee built her arousal in concert with that of the big man she was secretly observing. Her small callused fingertips traced the moist ruffles of her sex before coming to circle the sensitive bud between them. Her spine arched as she plunged her fingers into her own slick core, full hips canting with pleasure, fucking herself with one hand as the other frantically strummed at her clit.
Tianna, Jayne! her lust-filled mind pleaded, just get your shuài big self over here and do me, gorramit.
When the ache grew until what her hands could provide simply wasn’t enough anymore, Kaylee pulled her favorite vibrator from under her pillows, a sleek hot-pink beauty she’d bought at the Skyplex. As she moistened the tip with her mouth, it occurred to her that she was glad she’d paid attention to her Pa’s admonition to always be prepared, ’though she reckoned he didn’t mean it in terms of sexin’.
Kaylee slipped the buzzing, solid resilience of the vibe into her ni yin and her eyelids dropped close, the immediate rush of sensation almost overwhelming.
A groan of profound pleasure emanating from the ductwork brought her focus back to her inspiration. She stared at the screen. From the tension in Jayne’s body and the speed of his strokes, he was clearly rounding the home stretch.
“Sweet Buddha, let him hang on just a little longer. Oh please don’t let him come yet…” she panted to herself. Wide green eyes gobbled up Jayne’s every move as she matched the thrusts of the vibrator stroke for stroke with the big man’s hand, her body so aroused that she could feel her own nectar soaking the sheet beneath her.
It was then that she saw him grab something from the bunk beside him, something he’d apparently gotten out along with the neglected girlie mag, something she’d missed in the moments before turning on her secret camera – something that looked an awful lot like a pair of her very own unders! She’d assumed the small, pale blue lace trimmed panties had gotten lost in the wash and would turn up eventually. She just hadn’t counted on them turning up in Jayne Cobb’s hand.
Twin voices chattered in her brain as her fingers continued driving her toward her impending orgasm. “That húndàn’s got my britches! one said in outrage, while another voice remarked, “…and he seems to fair enjoy ’em.” Both observations were correct.
Jayne lifted the delicate garment to his face and inhaled her scent, muttered a muted, strangled, “Kaylee…” and came like a fire hose.
The girl mechanic responded in kind, unable to stifle her own outcry. Waves of pleasure and confusion washed over her. As her blood pounded in her ears, she thought with astonishment… He called my name. Jayne’s got my panties and he called my name!
She’d lain on her bunk, staring blankly at the Cortex screen, watching as Jayne had slipped his stolen treasure safely under his pillow and mopped up his belly and chest with his dirty T-shirt. When the mercenary shortly turned off the light and rolled over to take a nap, she switched off the vid feed. How to get her head around what she’d just seen and heard? At the pinnacle of his pleasure, Jayne had called out her name. Was she just random fantasy fodder for the merc’s overheated mind or was there something more to the whole situation?
Sure as Badger’s a crook, Simon Tam ain’t never done that, she noted. And he sure as hell wouldn’t swipe my unders, neither. Wouldn’t be ‘proper’. Truth is, I’m gettin’ right tired of ‘proper’. The realization was surprisingly freeing.
Kaylee contemplated how Jayne’s behavior toward her had changed since the Tams boarded Serenity on Persephone. Her amicable drinking buddy had become mean-spirited and belligerent, almost cruel. The shift was truly puzzling, unless…? Could it possibly be that the gunhand was sweet on her? Jealous of Simon? The idea certainly made sense. In fact, after what she’d just experienced, she concluded that it was time to reconsider her intentions toward the ship’s physician and explore other, more promising options.
And those panties? She reckoned she’d just have to buy some more.
End 1 of 1
Monday, February 28, 2011 8:58 AM
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