|Compromising Positions | Into the Black | Contact|
TormentNotes: Thanks to: Brenda, my wonderful beta, corrupter of the last vestiges of my innocence. Any remaining spelling or grammar mistakes are mine.
For all you "Jayne with gloves" fans - there's a little treat for you, just keep reading.
Jayne's strong arm is around Simon's neck, tight against his larynx, cutting off his air supply. His other hand is running wild all over the doctor's body, his dick a steel column rubbing against Simon's ass. Simon scrabbles uselessly at the arm around his throat.
"Jayne, stop," Simon says, barely able to get the words out from his constricted throat. "Don't do this. Please...don't hurt me." Jayne lets go of him with such force that Simon falls to his hands and knees on the deck. While he's gasping for air, Jayne disappears down the corridor.
The memory is still as clear as glass. Over a week later, the incident - Simon can't call it attempted rape, because he knows that if Jayne had really wanted to rape him, he would have been raped - is still haunting Simon. He still wakes up in cold sweats from the nightmares where Jayne doesn't stop. But since then, Jayne hasn't laid a hand on him - he just stares at him with an indefinable look that is somehow worse.
Wash stops short at the entrance to the cockpit - there's someone in the other chair. Looking closer, he sees that it's Simon, curled up with a book.
"Hey Doc, bad lighting in your room?" Wash asks.
Simon jumps nearly a foot in the air in shock at the sound of Wash's voice and the book falls to the floor with a loud bang.
"Holy shit, Simon, jumpy much?" Wash asks sarcastically, but then looks at Simon's white face and trembling hands. "Hey, are you O.K.?" He asks with genuine concern, moving into the room.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Simon says pressing his hand against his racing heart, "You just startled me that's all."
"Huhuh. I can see that. So why are you in here and not in your comfy room?" Wash asks taking his seat and checking equipment settings.
"I'm hiding," Simon says in a small voice.
"Jayne," Simon says, reaching for one of Wash's dinosaurs.
"What's he done now?"
"Don't want to talk about it, OK?" Simon says firmly.
"Fine with me," Wash says, knowing not to push it.
"Is it OK if I stay here for a while?" Simon asks running his fingers around the toy, not making eye contact, and hoping desperately that Wash doesn't ask him to leave.
Wash nods and then points at the dino in Simon's hand. "That's a Tyrannosaurus Rex. They were meat eaters and really, really nasty."
Simon smiles, remembering something from his childhood. "I know, River was fascinated by them when she was a kid."
Wash and Simon are eating lunch together when Jayne comes in and starts staring at Simon again. He sits across from the doctor and begins shoveling food into his mouth, his eyes never once leaving Simon's face. Simon can feel his face flushing and his hands start to tremble - it's too much for him, so he quickly gets up and leaves.
Jayne is just rising from the table when Wash says, "Leave him alone."
"I said, leave him alone. Sit down, finish your lunch and leave Simon alone."
"It's none of your ruttin' business, so why don't you stay out of it," Jayne growls.
Looking straight into Jayne's stormy grey eyes, Wash says, "I'm making it my business. Leave. Him. Alone."
"Wanna go little man?" Jayne asks menacingly.
"Any time, any place," Wash says, putting steel in his voice. "Just leave Simon alone. Stop tormenting him. Got it? Or do I have to go get a wrench and beat some sense into that thick skull?"
Jayne's eyes widen in shock, he hadn't realized that Mal had told anybody what had happened in the cargo hold. "Not hungry anymore anyway," Jayne mumbles and leaves in the opposite direction that Simon took.
Wash sits at the table, hands shaking. He can't believe he just threatened Jayne, but something about the haunted look in Simon's eyes just brought out his protective instincts.
Simon sits on his bunk, feeling sick. Sick with panic and - he finally admits to himself - desire. He wants Jayne's hands on him, but he's terrified. Simon's always been intimidated by Jayne, but he hides it behind sarcasm, using words to keep the big man out of his space. Simon pulls his knees up to his chest and lets his head fall down onto them. Moments later, River creeps into his room and sits down beside him, she puts her arms around her brother, pulls his head against her shoulder, and runs her fingers through his hair. He wraps his arms around her and snuggles in tight - it's her turn to comfort him.
Later that night, when Jayne returns to his bunk, he finds River sitting cross-legged on it.
"Ruttin' hell, girl, whatcha doin' here?"
He gestures towards the ladder, "Out."
When River doesn't move, he makes a grab for her arm. Faster than thought, River glides out from under it and Jayne finds himself lying flat on his back on the floor with River kneeling on his chest, her arm pressed firmly against his throat. She looks down at him, eyes blazing, with her hair hanging over them, brushing his face. Jayne's so surprised that he doesn't even try to push her off him.
"Don't hurt. Don't frighten." With each word she applies more pressure with her forearm. River then touches Jayne's face with her fingers, barely brushing against the skin. "Be soft. Be gentle. He will open for you. Open like a flower." With that she reaches into a pocket, drops something on Jayne's chest and is up the ladder and out the door.
Jayne picks up the object on his chest. It's a flower - a beautiful, delicate, origami lily, made with extreme skill and care out of nearly translucent paper.
Jayne's in the kitchen, grabbing a snack when Simon enters and sees him. The doctor is turning on his heel to leave again when Jayne crosses the room quickly and puts a gentle hand on his arm.
"Wait. Simon, please," Jayne says quietly.
It's the 'please' that makes Simon stay. He doesn't think he's ever heard Jayne use that word before. Simon turns, faces Jayne and raises an eyebrow in inquiry.
Jayne looks down at his hands and starts fiddling with his half-gloves.
"I...I'm sorry for scarin' ya," he says softly. "I shouldn'ta done it." He looks up into Simon's eyes. "It's just that..." he trails off. Jayne steels himself, and says, "It's just that I want ya, Simon. I want ya so bad, it makes me stupider than usual."
Jayne reaches out a hand and very gently caresses Simon's cheek with his fingertips. "I shouldn'ta been so aggressive, and, and...I'm sorry." Simon can see the torment in Jayne's eyes. He reaches up and presses Jayne's hand against his cheek - the leather of the glove, soft from wear and tear, smells like gunpowder and sweat. Simon cups the back of Jayne's head and brings him in for a kiss. When their lips meet, the sound that Jayne makes can only be called a whimper. It's Simon that deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue between Jayne's lips, and pulling their bodies closer together.
Simon is straddling Jayne on a kitchen chair, kissing him lightly, his tongue just brushing against Jayne's lips. Jayne is learning patience. He is also learning that slow and gentle can be as rewarding as fast and rough and sometimes, even more so. What he wants more than anything in the world right now is to throw Simon down on the table, rip his clothes off, and fuck him inside out. But instead, Jayne heaves a huge moaning sigh, tightens his arms around Simon's back, and buries his face in the long white column of his neck, where he inhales Simon's crisp, clean scent. He doesn't know how, but somehow, Simon always smells like this - even when they're making love, all covered in sweat and come - Simon still smells clean.
Simon tightens his arms around Jayne's shoulders, and rocks his hips from side to side as he squirms in closer.
"Oh, God, Simon," Jayne moans into his neck. "Quit wrigglin' or I won't be responsible for my actions."
Simon laughs, knowing he has nothing to fear.