Author's notes: Angst and dark themes and porn. Betaed by SonyaJEB. All the pretty are belong to Joss.
Mal allows Simon to suck his cock.
He's not sure how it happened, but Mal finds himself dreaming of Simon's mouth, the velvet of his skin, of how his face looks when he comes hot over Mal's hands.
Mal knows he's insane.
He's known that since before the war. Back then, it was a happy-go-lucky insanity, one that he could use to startle his ma, the hands, and his schoolmates. During the war, it became edgier, a way to laugh death in the face.
After Serenity Valley, though...
Mal doesn't let himself think about that.
He can't. He'd probably start screaming then, and end up sedated and tied down to his bed. Not that Mal would have an issue with Zoe taking over the ship, but he'd much rather be cogent when he hands over the reins.
Now, he's standing outside the infirmary, watching the doctor...Simon...do his doctory stuff. Hands (so hot on his skin) sort through a tray, the mouth (wet and tight and beautiful) moves ever so slightly as he writes. Mal knows he's going to use Simon; he's been imagining it ever since he woke from his restless sleep this morning.
He doesn't want to stop.
Part of his mind is screaming at him, telling him that he's going to break someone if this keeps up, but Simon is so pretty, so pliant...
Simon's not complaining, right?
Mal doesn't dare kiss the boy. It would probably make it too real. Or else it would make his heart explode. Or perhaps he would go crazier than he already is.
Sanity might be overrated, Mal thinks, looking at those lips. Maybe he has a bit extra left, maybe it wouldn't break everyone into little bits. Then River looks at him with her knowing eyes, and he comes to his senses.
Mal sees River. He sees her better than Simon does sometimes, he thinks. He can see where Simon's despair of what River was blurs his perception of what River is now.
Of course, he won't say anything. Because that would mean he cared. And Mal can't care about Simon. Because of the screaming.
River's been watching the two of them. Simon probably doesn't notice; he's wrapped up in a private pain. Mal wants to ask, aches with the need to know. But he won't. He knows he won't ask, and Simon won't tell him. Only River can see, but she only speaks in cryptic couplets these days. Indecipherable looks.
Mal doesn't think beyond this minute. He watches Simon through the door, waits for his acknowledgment. The weight of his stare is too much, and Simon finally looks up, startled, watching Mal's reflection. He bites back a crazy grin.
It started with the warm, damp weight of Simon's lips, barely pressing into his shoulder. Mal was shocked, though not as shocked as he should have been. He stared at Simon, attempted to read what he saw there. Mal only saw Simon's face, and realized that they both wanted.
Lust, then. Frantic groping, followed by hot, wet suction, and the white-hot flash of orgasm. Mal didn't dare look Simon in the eyes, didn't dare look his reflection in the eyes, even. He left, too quickly, trying to process what had happened.
Mal figured it was a one-time thing, then. At least until he found himself waking, hard and aching, after dreams where Simon's lips were touching him everywhere imaginable.
He watched closely, then. Memorized Simon's schedule, realized that he clung to his routine like it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Of course Mal recognized that; sometimes routine was the only thing keeping him together as well. It takes nearly crazy to recognize nearly crazy, after all. Throw River in the mix? Well, that's just a recipe for fun times all around.
Three times since the first. Mal counts each time as a victory; not over anyone but himself, and only for holding back from taking the boy and fucking him senseless. It can only be this, and nothing more. Mal's not one to wish his insanity on anyone else.
It's only one of the reasons he leaves so quickly.
And here Simon is, blue eyes looking directly into his own. Mal wonders if this is the time, the moment Simon will say "No," and leave him alone forever. But no, it's not this time. They're both co-conspirators now, even though neither has committed a crime (lately, Mal amends), still, neither wants to admit this is happening.
And Mal really does lean towards women. He watches Inara dance with her clients, and feels the fury growling in his gut. Some of the hundans with their fancy clothes and ritzy attitudes pawing her, claiming her as their own. It's ripping him apart that he can't stop them, can't stop her. So, he goes to Simon, hopes that he can find another dark corner.
Mal would love to be able to explain it all to Simon, but it's impossible to talk to him now. Not without picturing him falling to his knees, graceful and broken. Not without getting hard and imagining him sprawled out on his bed, fucked and hoping for more. And Mal can't, he won't let himself fall so far. Not for Simon, not for anybody.
It's his choice. That's all.
Author: skripka [website]
Details: Standalone | NC-17 | *slash* | 4k | 05/26/04
Characters: Malcolm, Simon
Notes: Angst and dark themes and porn.
Betaed by SonyaJEB.
All the pretty are belong to Joss.
Sequel to: Damned