Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact

Falling Apart II

Notes: Sometimes your brain is your own worst enemy. I hadn’t intended to include Simon’s POV, but suddenly it all made sense and it fits with the series title too. Thanks to skripka for being the sounding board.

Series: Fractures





Simon lies quietly in Jayne’s arms, staring at the ceiling, his body aching inside and out, his mind calm for the first time all night. He knows what he has to do. He’s known it for a long time, but had tried to stave off the inevitable, had hoped, with time, that things might change. They did not. Simon does not know why he cannot return Jayne’s love; he just knows that he cannot.

He stood at that window for ages, staring out into the winter storm trying to figure out a way to tell Jayne, a way to say the words that he knew would hurt the big man more than any bullet wound or knife slash. But he couldn’t. He could not find the words, so he said nothing when Jayne’s strong arms curved around him, offering warmth and strength and support. And still he had said nothing when he was led to the bed and gently pressed back against the sheets. And then Simon had looked up into Jayne’s steel blue gaze, softened to grey by desire and love, and suddenly realized, he knows. He knows this is the end.

Simon could see the understanding in Jayne’s eyes, could feel it in his touch, in the way Jayne had tried to memorize every moment, tried to make it last as long as possible. Simon couldn’t give Jayne his love, but he could give him his body, so he had surrendered completely to the moment, letting Jayne overwhelm his senses, pushing the end away, if only for a short time.

Simon inhales deeply, remembering, smelling stale sex and sweat, and steels himself for what he must do. He slips out from under Jayne’s embrace, a sad smile stretching across his face as he watches Jayne’s arms wrap around the pillow and draw it close. He stands beside the bed for a few moments watching Jayne sleep, and then reaches out and gently strokes his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Simon whispers.

He gathers up his clothes, dresses quickly, and slips away.

The door snicks shut and Jayne opens his eyes. “Me too,” he replies sadly to the empty room.