|Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact|
Outside WorldNotes: Total shout out to queenb, my naughty space pirate captain.
Sequel to Reality.
They are in a seedy, smoke-filled bar on some backwater planet, drinking beer and quietly enjoying each other's company. Simon is happy - happier than he's been in a long, long time. And he knows it has a lot to do with the two men he's sitting with. Simon's got one leg draped over Jayne's thigh and the merc is running teasing fingers up and down the inseam of his pants, drifting higher and higher up his leg with each pass. Mal's hand rests lightly on the back of Simon's neck, his fingers brushing against the soft hairs just above his collar. Mal leans over and whispers an obscene description of what he and Jayne are going to do to Simon later that night. Simon's face burns red and a wave of pure lust shoots through him at the mention of leather restraints.
They are drawing some attention, but that is not unusual. They are a remarkable trio, each able to draw stares on his own. Combined they become nearly irresistible.
Jayne finishes his beer and starts to get up. Simon reaches over and takes the mug. He needs to get up and clear his head a bit - Mal's words having a far stronger effect on him than he would have thought possible.
"Let me," Simon says standing. "That way you can ogle my ass as I walk away."
"Ogle?" Mal says in mock indignation. "I do not ogle. Jayne may ogle." At these words the big merc waggles his eyebrows suggestively at Simon. Mal points to himself, and says archly, "I admire." Simon laughs and climbs over Jayne's leg. Taking advantage, Jayne runs a hand up the back of Simon's leg to his ass and gives it a quick squeeze. "I grab too," he rumbles, laughing. Swatting at the hand, Simon laughs again and continues across the crowded room toward the bar. He can feel his lovers' eyes crawling all over his backside, so he puts a little swish in his step, just for them, knowing that he will pay a delicious penalty for teasing them.
Simon pushes his way through the crowd and is nearly at the bar when he feels a rough hand on his shoulder, plucking at the silk of his vest.
"Oooooo. What do we have here? A pretty boy," a gruff, drunken voice says behind him.
Simon shrugs the hand off and tries to continue on his way, ignoring the fool behind him. A larger hand comes down on his shoulder and spins him around. "Not so fast, pretty boy. We wanna talk to ya."
Simon finds himself confronted by a small group of rough men of varying sizes and sobriety.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" He says imperiously giving them his most arrogant look.
"We don't take kindly to your sort in these parts," the largest of the men says to him, leaning in close, breathing the sour stench of alcohol in his face.
"Yes," Simon says, raising an eyebrow at the men, "I can see how someone with manners would not be welcome around here. Now, if you would excuse me, I'd like to get to the bar before last call."
"Gotta smart mouth, doncha, pretty boy?" Growls the large man.
"Mebbe we should take him outside an' show him what we do to his sort around here, Zeke."
The two men reach for him and Simon realizes that resorting to sarcasm may not have been the smartest idea and he begins to back away. Zeke grabs his arm in a tight grip.
"Look," Simon says futilely trying to free his arm from the iron grip. "This is ridiculous. I haven't done anything."
"Don't need to. Told ya, we don't take to your sort 'round here."
Simon opens his mouth to speak when he hears the familiar cocking of a pistol by his ear - looking at the weapon out of the corner of his eye, he recognizes it as Mal's. At the same time, Jayne appears by his side, wraps an arm around him, rests his hand on Simon's hip, and says, "These men givin' you some trouble, sweetheart?"
Zeke lets go of Simon abruptly and the group of men begin to back away.
"Apparently not," Simon says. The men take one look at Jayne's scowl and Mal's icy cool stare and practically run away.
"Gorramit," Jayne growls. "Haven't had a good bar fight in ages." Mal puts his gun away and moves to Simon's other side, looking around the bar for any further signs of trouble.
Simon looks up at Jayne and says incredulously, "Sweetheart?!"
Jayne shrugs, "Seemed like the right thing ta say at the time."
Simon shudders a little and says, "Don't EVER call me that again."
"I think maybe we should be leavin' now. Just in case those idiots have friends," Mal says.
As the three men leave the bar and head towards the valley where Serenity is hidden, Jayne says, "What about honey?"
"No," Simon replies firmly.
"Baby?" Jayne asks, eyes twinkling with mirth.
"No." Simon says even more firmly.
"Um. Fine," Jayne says, scratching his head. "What about Pookie?" Mal snorts, trying to hold back his laughter.
Simon stops in his tracks and stares at Jayne, mouth open. "POOKIE?"
Mal says, still snickering, "Guess that's a firm no."
There's a bit of a pause and then they start walking again. Jayne and Mal exchange a look over Simon's head and then say in unison, "Princess?"
"NO!" Simon exclaims, a pained look on his face. Obviously, the two had been conspiring behind his back again.
They plague him with endearments all the way back to the ship. By the time they get to his berth and start undressing him he's starting to think sweetheart may not be so bad.