|Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact|
Beyond WordsNotes: Written for the thirtysixth Friday Firefly challenge on LJ. Topic: any topic, no dialogue
Simon sits on the bunk, twisting his hands together nervously as he waits. He looks around the small room, his eyes sliding off the barely organized clutter on the table, not really seeing anything at all. Heís scared, but determined. He wants this. Heís wanted this for a very long time. He understands that he could be rejected, that things might not go the way that he hopes they will, that he could jeopardize so much, but he canít *not* do this. Itís tearing him up inside. Heís tried to deny it, tried so hard to push these feelings aside, but all that seemed to do was make it worse.
His head snaps up at the sound of the hatch opening. His heart pounding in his chest, Simon takes a deep breath and watches Malís feet negotiate the rungs of the ladder. Mal steps down onto the floor and sees him. Frowning, Malís mouth opens, but before he can say a word Simon holds out his hand in silent invitation, putting all the need, desireÖlove he feels for this man into that one gesture, hoping that he wonít be rebuffed.
Malís eyes travel from Simonís hand to his face and back again. Wordlessly, he crosses the room and takes Simonís hand and pulls him to his feet. Simonís heart sinks. Heís going to be asked to leave, he knows it. Heís ruined everything, changed everything Ė and suddenly Malís lips are on his Ė strong and soft and warm and Simonís knees go weak with relief.
Gentle hands caress his hair, his back, his arms as he clings to Mal and kisses him again and again until theyíre both breathless and swaying. Simon slowly sinks backward onto Malís bunk, grabbing Malís shirt and bringing him down with him.
As he loses himself in long, slow deep kisses, time dissolves around Simon. All he is aware of is Mal Ė his weight pressing him into the bunk, the rasping wet heat of his tongue as it laps against his skin, the gentle strength of his hands as they caress him, the smooth skin on his back, the firm curve of his ass Ė their clothes have disappeared, heís not sure when or how, all he can do is let the sensations roll through him as Mal slowly drives him out of his mind.
No words are needed. Skin to skin, they arch and writhe, their gasps and moans echoing against the metal walls and bouncing back on them as they push their bodies closer and closer to the edge; a look, a nod, another long kiss and its body into body, thrusting, pounding deeper, harder. Sweat pools, skin slaps together faster and faster, moans get louder and sharper, shuddering, shaking, orgasms spurt hot and wet inside, outside, and they collapse in a twisted heap on the bunk, chests heaving for air, hearts pounding.
Exhausted and sated, Simon drifts off to sleep wrapped tightly in Malís arms, with barely heard words of endearment murmured into his hair.