|Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact|
My PetIt's like this...Juli sent me an email about how a bunch of us have portrayed Simon as catlike lately and then my brain went Simon as "pet". And yes, there is a reason why Mal's disguise sounds familiar ; ) Thanks to Juli, tenth_muse, skripka, and freeyourmind for the ideas and encouragement. The ending came out of no where, folks - and surprised the hell out of me.
"Okay, so I've got us a job that'll get us the money that'll buy us that part so we can get off this rock," Mal says looking around the table at his crew. "It's a simple little recon job. All we have to do is go in, map out the location, and get it to my contact."
Zoe, recognizing Mal's tone, asks, "What's the catch, sir?"
"What makes you think there's a catch?" Mal replies with false innocence.
Zoe merely raises an eyebrow while Wash mutters, "There's always a catch," under his breath too softly for anyone but her to hear. Zoe puts a hand on his arm to quiet him.
Knowing that he's busted and that Zoe will just continue to badger him until he tells them what went wrong, Mal says, "All right - there's a catch. I said yes and shook on the deal before I found out exactly what site we're re-conning."
"And what exactly would that be, sir?" Zoe asks, crossing her arms.
"A place called Xanadu," Mal says looking away from everyone's eyes. "It's, uh, a rather, um, exotic sex club."
"Sex club?" Jayne grins, "I'm in."
Inara shoots him a disgusted look. Book merely sighs quietly.
"What do you mean by exotic, Captain?" Kaylee asks curiously.
Mal flushes, "You know, leather, uh, maybe some chains, stuff like that."
"Oh," Kaylee says eyes wide, "Wow. Sounds...different. Can I come?"
"What?!" Mal exclaims, he knew Kaylee had a very healthy attitude towards sex, but this was just too much. "Even if I were insane enough to let you come, they wouldn't let you in - it's men only."
"That doesn't seem fair," Kaylee says with disappointment.
"So who's going in, sir?" Zoe asks.
"Me, Jayne, and Simon," Mal says flicking a quick look at Simon.
"Me?" Simon exclaims.
"Him?" Jayne questions at the same time, flipping a thumb in Simon's direction. "What good's he gonna be?"
Simon frowns at Jayne and then says to Mal, "I hate to agree with Jayne, Mal, but why do I have to go?"
Mal's face gets even redder as he looks at his lover and squirms uncomfortably, "You're, well, you're the only way we can get in."
"What exactly does that mean?" Simon asks, his stomach clenching in trepidation.
"The only way into the club is to be an active participant in the lifestyle. So I need a "pet" - you're it. And, you're the only one of us who can memorize the room and then re-create it from memory."
Eyes widening in horror while he processes the word "pet", Simon says angrily, "No, Mal. No rutting way. I'm not doing it."
"Yes, you are. No one else is suitable, it's you or no one," Mal says.
"Then it's no one. I'm NOT doing it," Simon says stubbornly, crossing his arms tightly.
"Simon, I shook on the deal," Mal replies sternly, "I've agreed to do this job and I'm a man of my word."
"Since when?" Simon says harshly. "Seems to me you've backed out on your word a time or two before this."
Mal's face freezes and Simon knows he's gone too far. "Everyone out. Now," Mal says quietly. The rest of the crew scatter, knowing better than to argue.
Simon approaches Mal cautiously and begins to babble his apology, "Mal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I know you're an honourable man. You know how I get...I say the most hurtful thing that pops into my head when I feel cornered. I just don't want to do this, Mal."
Mal just stands there glaring at Simon. Grinding his jaw together, he says, "I've only EVER backed out on my word when it would do more harm than good to keep it."
Simon reaches out tentatively and touches Mal's arm and then says quietly, "I know, Mal, I know. I'm sorry."
Mal looks down into Simon's sincere gaze and sighs. He's never been able to stay angry with Simon, no matter how much he deserves it. He takes Simon's hand and squeezes it gently. "You're still going to have to do this, whether you want to or not, Simon."
"Why are you determined to force me to do this?"
"Because, Simon," Mal says. "It's our only way off this rock. We need the money for that part. I've been trying for days to get us a job, no one else is hiring."
"Are you sure this is safe, Mal? Why couldn't the person who hired us do this recon himself?" Simon asks.
"It's safe. The owner of the club knows him, so he needed to hire someone else to do it, just so happens I came along just at the right time, that's all," Mal says.
"And what's this guy going to do with this information?" Simon asks with resignation, knowing that he's going to end up saying yes.
Mal grins and says, "Well, considering he's the law in this town, I'd say he's gonna raid the place."
Mal's grin is infectious and Simon returns it reluctantly. Sighing wearily, he says, "All right, what do I have to do?"
Mal pulls Simon into a hug and kisses him softly, "First, we need our disguises."
"C'mon, Simon," Mal says with some irritation, "Let me in. It can't be that bad."
Simon's muffled voice comes through the door to his room, "It's worse. I've changed my mind. I can't do this, Mal."
"Simon." Mal says, "Unlock the gorram door, right now." He's been trying to coax Simon into opening the door for the last five minutes and he's finally lost his patience.
Mal hears the soft snick of the door unlocking, slides it open and steps inside. He takes one look at Simon and gasps. He fumbles to close the door behind him, not taking his eyes off of the sight before him. Simon looks like sex incarnate - tight black leather pants that ride low on his hips, heavy-soled boots, topped off with an inch-wide leather collar around his neck, and nothing else. The expanse of his exquisite pale skin, broken only by the dark trail of hair leading down from his navel, looks even paler against all the black. It mesmerizes Mal - he can't tear his eyes away from all that flesh, flesh he's seen a hundred times before, yet now, somehow different. Simon starts to fidget under Mal's intense gaze.
"Say something," Simon says, starting to flush.
Mal's quite certain that the noise he makes cannot be classified as a word. He reaches out and grabs the front of Simon's pants and pulls him roughly towards himself. Simon stumbles into his arms, his mouth open in surprise. Mal kisses him hard, sucking and nipping on his lips and tongue. Shoving a leg between Simon's, Mal pulls Simon against him and starts to grind their hips together. Mal's hands start to move wildly all over Simon's body and his kisses become more and more insistent until Simon begins to struggle, overwhelmed by the intensity of Mal's passion.
Mal loosens his hold slightly and Simon pulls away from Mal's demanding mouth with a gasp and steps back, chest heaving as he pants for air. "So, I guess you like the outfit."
"You could say that," Mal says, eyes dark and full of lust. His eyes travel up and down Simon's body several times and then he reaches forward again and undoes the top button of Simon's pants and tugs them down an inch, just barely exposing the jut of Simon's hip. Uncomfortable with the amount of exposure, Simon reaches down to pull them back up and Mal swats gently at his hand.
"Leave them," he growls.
Mal runs a finger along the edge of the pants and Simon gasps softly. Mal drops slowly to his knees and cups Simon's bottom in his hands and holds him steady as he brings his mouth to the crease where his hip joins his body. Mal kisses Simon's skin, teasing it lightly with his tongue and then begins to suck hard. Simon gasps loudly and sways, and then puts his hands on Mal's shoulders for balance. Mal sucks until Simon is whimpering with discomfort and then pulls away to admire his handiwork.
"Perfect," Mal says quietly, running his thumb across the large dark purple bruise on Simon's hipbone. He stands up and runs a finger along the collar, flicks the small metal loop that encircles it, and says in a lust-laden voice, "You're beautiful and I'm going to fuck you so hard when we get back you won't know what day it is."
Simon quivers all over as Mal's words send shivers down his spine. Before he has a chance to speak, Mal kisses him hard - once, and then takes him by the hand and leads him out of the room.
As they walk down the corridor, Mal says with mock hurt, "You know, you never said anything about my disguise."
"It's not like you gave me an opportunity to," Simon says with a grin.
Mal stops, lets go of Simon's hand and holds his arms out. "Well?" He asks. "Oh, wait, forgot one part." He reaches into his pocket and puts on a pair of rimless squared-oval glasses.
Simon takes his time looking Mal over admiring the fit of the medium toned grey suit. Simon reaches out and straightens the collar of the darker grey shirt and trails his fingers down the seam. He's impressed at the way the grey of suit contrasts with the shirt - Mal had obviously learned some fashion sense, either that or Inara had helped him. He reaches up and brushes Mal's hair off his forehead and smiles. "Very handsome. But why the glasses?"
Mal shrugs and says, "Don't know. They just felt right. Don't you like them?"
"I do. They look very good on you," Simon replies.
Mal smiles at him and gives him a quick kiss. "C'mon. We better get going or Jayne'll leave without us."
They get to the cargo bay and find Jayne, dressed all in black and loading his favourite handgun. As they walk across the floor, Simon thinks that Jayne's reaction is almost worth the embarrassment. He's never seen the merc drop a gun before, let alone one he's named, but the second Jayne lays eyes on him, Boo slips out of his hand to clatter onto the floor.
"Ta mah dah!" Jayne exclaims and picks up his weapon, his eyes constantly straying to Simon. "Shit Mal. We can't take him outta here dressed like that. How's it gonna look, us walkin' through town with a sex toy?"
Simon winces at the words and he can feel another flush creeping across his face.
"You've got a point, there, Jayne," Mal says, pondering. "Wait here, I'll be right back."
Simon shifts uncomfortably and resists the urge to cover himself. He can feel Jayne's gaze crawling all over him and it's finally too much. "Jayne," Simon says harshly, "Stop looking at me."
"If ya can't stand a little starin', boy, you ain't gonna last five seconds in the club," Jayne says with a leer.
Simon sighs and shifts again. Although he hates to admit it, Jayne's right - if he can't handle Jayne eyefucking him, he was definitely not going to be able to fool anyone at the club. Simon closes his eyes and tries to relax. He thinks soothing thoughts and tries to forget he's half-naked and feeling twice as exposed in the tight pants. He opens his eyes when he hears the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Looking up, he sees Inara and another wave of embarrassment crashes over him. It was bad enough that Jayne had to see him like this, he would have preferred it if no one else had.
"Good, you haven't left yet," Inara says and takes Simon by the arm. "Come with me a minute, Simon."
Curious, Simon lets Inara lead him to her shuttle. "What's up?" he asks.
"I want you to be very careful inside the club, Simon," Inara says with some concern. "They can be extremely dangerous - lots of people "disappear" in places like that. Don't get separated from Mal or Jayne for a minute and do not eat or drink anything, dong ma?"
Simon frowns slightly but nods, seeing the worry in Inara's eyes. "I'll be careful, Inara, I promise. There's no way I'd let myself be separated from them."
"Good," Inara says seriously.
"Is that all?" Simon asks.
Inara runs quick, appraising eye over Simon and then says, "Not quite. Sit here, facing me." She gestures to the chair in front of her vanity.
Simon sits and Inara tilts his head up with gentle fingers under his chin. She reaches for a pencil and begins to smudge dark kohl around his eyes. That done, she picks up a jar, opens it and rubs some of the sticky contents between her hands and then runs it through Simon's thick hair. She squeezes and twists gently at the hair until she's satisfied with the way it sticks up in unruly clumps - giving the illusion that he's just gotten out of bed. Inara chews on her bottom lip for a second and then picks up the container of gloss and applies a very thin coat to Simon's lips.
Inara turns Simon towards the mirror. His jaw falls open at the sight - he looks thoroughly debauched. "Wuh de ma, Inara, I look like a..."
"Whore," Inara finishes for him. "You're supposed to, Simon. You're supposed to be Mal's pet - his property. Your sole purpose in life is to make him happy. You'll do anything for him, anything at all. You're his, mind, body, and soul. Remember that when you're in the club. Show absolutely no defiance, or they'll smell a rat."
Simon nods again, gets up, and says with a pained look on his face, "Thanks, Inara. I'll do my best."
She squeezes his arm gently and says, "I know."
He leaves Inara's shuttle with a bit of a queasy feeling in his stomach. He's not sure he can pull this off, but he also knows he has to. He clomps down the stairs loudly, holding onto the railing, still not used to the heavy-soled boots.
Mal and Jayne both turn at the sound and their jaws drop. Mal shifts uncomfortably, suddenly painfully hard. He can feel Jayne practically vibrating next to him and he steps forward on shaky legs and holds his duster out towards Simon. "Put this on."
Simon pauses briefly under the combined weight of their combined stares and then continues down into the cargo bay. He takes the coat from Mal's hand and shrugs into it. He wraps it tightly around himself and inhales deeply. It smells like Mal and it comforts him. Mal puts an arm around him, gives him a soft smile and they follow Jayne down the ramp and into the night.
When they arrive at Xanadu, they are ushered into a small, discrete vestibule where they are scanned for weapons. Jayne reluctantly relinquishes his collection of knives and guns, grumbling under his breath the whole time. Mal helps Simon out of his coat and hands it to the clerk. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Mal pulls out a length of leather and finding the metal clasp at one end, quickly hooks it to the hoop on Simon's collar, and then he slips his hand through the loop at the other end. Simon freezes and looks at Mal, eyes wide with shock. He hadn't told Simon about the leash - he knew that the younger man was already on edge and didn't want to give him something else to fret about.
Mal notices the clerk watching them curiously so he reaches out and brushes his fingers gently against Simon's cheek and says, "Good boy." He turns to the clerk, "Don't you just love the new ones? They're so shy. Look. He's blushing."
"Oh, how quaint. How long have you had him?" The clerk asks.
"Couple a weeks. I'm still breaking him in," Mal says. Simon stands beside him, eyes to the floor, blushing bright red as the two men discuss him like he's not even in the room. Mal pulls gently on the leash and says, "Come, my pet. Let's go in." He nods at Jayne who precedes them through the doors. Mal goes next, leading Simon behind him.
The interior of the club is dark and smoky, the air throbbing with loud, pulsating music. There are several stages and platforms situated around the room. Along the back wall are some tables and chairs as well as the bar. Simon's eyes flicker all around the large room and his eyes widen in shock at what he sees going on around him. The place is wall to wall men in various stages of undress, engaging in or watching a wide variety of sexual acts - almost all of them involving some kind of restraints - many of which look extremely painful. Instinctively, he sidles closer to Mal. Jayne's eyes move all about the room, taking in the sights, but also looking for any potential danger.
When he feels fingers run down the middle of his back, Simon can't help it, he yelps in surprise and jumps about three feet in the air. Mal and Jayne turn quickly and Mal pulls Simon against his side. Simon, deciding that it is best to play his assigned role as new pet to the hilt, presses his face against Mal's chest and clings to him, tightly clutching the lapel on his jacket. Mal strokes Simon's back and glares at the man who had touched him. Jayne stands menacingly at his side.
"Oh, I am so sorry," says the man in a voice that says he isn't in the least. "I should have asked your permission. But he's just so exquisite. All that pale, flawless skin. It made me forget my manners. I'm Max Schrader, by the way, owner of this lovely little establishment. You're new here, yes?" He's a large, overweight man, in his mid to late fifties, with an aura of power about him that sets both Mal and Jayne on edge.
"Yes," Mal says, still stroking Simon's back, hoping that he had enough sense to just stay where he was. He senses that this man could be extremely difficult to fool.
"And how are you liking it so far?" Max asks.
"Well enough," Mal says noncommittally. "We just walked in the door about two minutes ago."
Simon can feel the older man's eyes on him and he tightens his hold on Mal and presses his body even closer to Mal's.
"It appears that I've frightened him," Max says apologetically. "Come with me, let me make it up to you." His tone of voice brooks no refusal and Mal, Jayne, and Simon follow Max to an empty table in the corner. "Dmitri," Max calls out, "A bottle of our best whiskey and three glasses."
"Two," Mal says.
Max raises his eyebrows and says jovially, "Only two? You would deprive your man of the best whiskey in this part of the 'verse?"
"I pay him to remain alert and guard me and mine, not indulge himself," Mal says with a sharp smile.
"Oh, you are a cruel master," Max says with a glint in his eye. "Sit, sit. Make yourself comfortable. I'd like to have a little chat with you." Max sits down and gestures to the chair opposite him. Dmitri comes with a bottle and two glasses.
Mal sits on the chair indicated and Jayne stands at his side, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room. "Come, my pet," Mal says to Simon. "Sit." He tugs on the leash and Simon sits on his lap, and wraps one arm around Mal's shoulders and the other across his chest. Mal begins to stroke his back once again. They are facing the back wall of the club so Simon can't even work on his assigned task - all he can do is sit and try to avoid making eye contact with Max - the way the man is staring at him makes him very uncomfortable. "So," Mal says, "You said you wanted to chat."
"Yes, I would, Mr. ...?" Max says.
"Smith," Mal fills in. "Jonathan Smith." Mal gives one of his easy smiles at the quirked eyebrow. "Yes, I know, sounds like I'm providing false information, but that really is my name," he says with complete sincerity. If he didn't know better, Simon would have believed him.
"Ah, then, Mr. Smith. I would like to discuss a little transaction," Max says while pouring the whiskey.
"A transaction?" Mal replies, taking a sip of his drink and trying to keep his mind on the dangerous man in front of him. He's finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything but Simon right now. The outfit was distraction enough, but combined with the passive act, it seemed to push every one of his buttons and all he wanted to do was throw his lover down on the table and fuck him senseless. Mal's a bit disturbed by his reaction - he had thought that the thing that had attracted him to Simon in the first place was his fierce independence and the spark of defiance in his eyes, but he wants Simon more now than he ever has. Mal begins to absently run his fingers along the muscular curves of Simon's torso and nibbles at his neck. Simon finds himself becoming slightly aroused by the teasing touches and gasps quietly when Mal brushes his fingers across his nipple.
"Oh, what a delightful sound," Max says. "And look how pink he's turning. All over too, how darling." Simon presses his face against Mal's neck, mortified. Mal tightens his arms around Simon and strokes his neck above the collar.
"I would like to make an offer on your lovely little pet here, Mr. Smith," Max says with a shark's smile. "He's absolutely gorgeous and I think he'd make a spectacular addition to my stable. He's still so innocent and fresh..." Max trails off and reaches out a hand to touch Simon again. Before Mal has a chance to say anything, Jayne's hand snakes out and grabs their host's wrist in a tight grip. He's growling and reaching for a weapon that he's forgotten is no longer there. Max calmly looks up into his scowling face and smirks and then his eyes turn to Mal. "You might want to tell your man here to let go. My guards are moving in as we speak."
Mal glances around and sees five burly men making their way towards them. He motions to Jayne, who immediately lets go of Max's wrist. Max makes a motion and his guards disappear into the crowds again. He takes a drink of his whiskey. "I'm impressed, Mr. Smith, your bodyguard is quite dedicated."
"I told you, I pay him well to protect me and mine," Mal says calmly. He can feel the tension in Simon's body and he continues stroking him. Despite the situation, Simon finds himself relaxing into Mal's touch.
Max smiles and says, "Back to business. I'll give you 30,000 credits for him."
Mal nearly stops breathing and stares at Max. Quickly regaining his composure, Mal says, "He's not for sale Mr. Schrader. I've grown rather attached to this one."
"Fourty thousand," Max offers.
Mal can feel Jayne stiffen next to him. That's more money than they make in a year. As much as he had changed in the past year or so, Jayne was still a mercenary at heart and Mal knows the thought of all that money must be nearly shorting the man's brain out.
Mal shakes his head, smiling lightly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Schrader. You could offer me a million credits and I still wouldn't part with him." He looks into Simon's eyes and says, "He's special." Mal slides his hand up Simon's back to his neck and pulls his head down so that he can give Simon a gentle kiss on the lips.
"I can see that, Mr. Smith," Max sighs, watching the display of affection. "It's dangerous to fall in love with your pets, Mr. Smith. It makes you do foolish things."
Mal just smiles and shrugs, "What can I say, Mr. Schrader? I'm a fool."
"Well, it is obvious that I am wasting my time," Max says, sighing wistfully as he gets up. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. While you're here, please, reconsider my offer." And then he walks away.
"Are you all right?" Mal asks Simon quietly. Simon nods.
"Mal, can we get on with it?" Jayne asks. "This place gives me an uncomfortableness," he says with a shudder.
"I know, Jayne. Me too," Mal replies. "But now that we've drawn the owner's attention, and his bodyguards' I'm sure they're watching us. We're going to have to stick around for a while."
He and Simon get up and the three of them begin to circulate around the club. Simon has the layout committed to memory within half an hour, but they stay for two, watching some of the less disturbing "shows". The erotically charged surroundings and the smell of sex in the air is definitely getting to all three of them by the time they make their way back to the vestibule to collect their things. Mal takes the leash off Simon and puts it back in his pocket and then helps him into the coat while Jayne puts his weapons back.
When they exit the club, they all breathe a sigh of relief and start walking quickly towards Serenity. Mal can't keep his hands off Simon and Jayne is practically bursting with unshed energy.
When they reach the ship, Zoe is waiting for them and asks, "How did it go, sir?" Her eyes are drawn to Simon, wrapped in Mal's coat and pressed up against him. Jayne practically knocks her down as he walks quickly past her towards his bunk. She shoots him a frown and then turns back to Mal.
"Everything went fine, Zoe. We'll talk about it in the morning," Mal says, and before she can say another word they're moving past her and into the ship.
"Huh," she says to the empty air and then shakes her head at the oddities of men.
"Oh God, Simon," Mal says huskily into Simon's ear, "I want you so much." He has the smaller man pressed hard against the wall of his quarters and he's grinding his cock against him. He grabs Simon by the hair and tilts his head back for a lip-bruising kiss. Mal brushes his thumb across Simon's nipple and then pinches it between his fingers. Simon's body arches against his and Mal gasps at the increased pressure against his erection. "Turn around," Mal growls and steps back far enough to let Simon turn.
Kissing a hot trail along Simon's shoulder, Mal reaches around Simon's hips and unbuttons his pants and slides them down just far enough to expose Simon's cock and ass. He jerks Simon off hard and almost painfully fast while he opens his own pants and releases his straining cock from their confines. Simon is moaning loudly and thrusting into Mal's hand and with a shudder he comes. Mal uses the semen in his hand to coat his cock. Simon braces himself against the wall with his hands. Mal kicks Simon's feet further apart, aligns himself against Simon's tight opening and then thrusts in hard and deep. Simon gasps sharply and whimpers a bit at the speed of entry and Mal stops for a moment and runs his hands along Simon's chest, playing with his nipples. Mal feels Simon's body relax and he slides his hands down to Simon's hips. He grabs on tightly and begins to fuck Simon hard. Faster and deeper, with absolutely no control, Mal pounds into Simon's body. Simon moans and gasps, arching back into every thrust, gasping with pleasure every time Mal slams against his prostate. Panting, Simon gasps, "Oh, yes, fuck me, fuck me, make me yours."
Removing one hand from his hip, Mal reaches up and grabs Simon by the hair and twists his head around for a sloppy wet kiss. "Mine," Mal growls in his ear, and Simon quivers in delight at the possessive tone in Mal's voice. Mal's rhythm becomes more and more erratic and then with one last hard thrust, he moans Simon's name and comes. Shuddering, Mal rests his head against Simon's sweat soaked back. Simon collapses against the wall. Mal wraps his arms tightly around Simon's waist and holds him close.
Simon hisses in pain when Mal pulls out of his body. "Sorry," Mal says contritely and strokes Simon's bottom gently. Simon turns in his arms, using Mal and the wall to hold himself up and says, "I'm all right. Just a little tender, that's all." He brushes his lips against Mal's and then nibbles lightly on the bottom one. He pulls back and says with a smile, "I do suggest, however, that you get me to the bunk before I fall down. I'm not certain my legs are working right now."
Mal chuckles softly and says, "I don't think mine are working so well either, but I'm sure we can make it. It's only a couple of steps." They manage the few steps and collapse onto the bed. They undress each other, tossing their garments and footwear on the floor. Mal runs his finger along Simon's collar and asks, "Will you keep this on? Just for tonight?"
Simon cups Mal's face and says softly, "Yes, and every night, if that's what you want."
"Simon?" Mal asks, his heart pounding at Simon's words.
"I can't explain it, Mal. I just know that I want to wear it," Simon says shyly.
Mal shivers and pulls Simon into a fierce kiss. Simon surrenders completely to Mal. Soon, he's moaning softly into Mal's mouth as their bodies press and rub together. Simon grows hard again. This time, Mal is slow and gentle. His hand moves in a teasing rhythm on Simon's cock - sliding lightly down the shaft and back up again, a quick circle around the head, a brush against the dripping slit, and back down again. Mal keeps Simon riding the edge for what seems like hours, drawing out his pleasure. Simon arches into the hand on his cock and moans loudly.
"Yes, that's it," Mal murmurs in his ear. "Come for me, come for me, my pet." With a sharp gasp, Simon convulses under Mal's hand and comes in long, hard pulses until he lies limp and boneless on the bed. Mal licks his hand and then kisses Simon softly.
"Mine," he says quietly against Simon's lips.
"Yours," Simon replies with a smile, "Forever and always."