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X Marks the Spot

Notes:Inspired by this lovely pic from Sean’s new movie, Living Til the End . Thanks to skripka for pointing out the mole below Sean’s lip and for doing a little tinkering here and there. Originally written for the e-zine Two By Two, compiled by Kirbycrow for a fellow Browncoat in need of cheering up.




“Huh.”

Simon opens one eye and looks up at Mal, who is currently propped over him and looking at his chest. “Huh, what?” he asks lazily, still half asleep.

“I never noticed this before,” Mal responds and runs a finger very lightly over a spot on Simon’s left collarbone.

A little more awake, Simon opens his other eye, props himself up on his elbows, and tries to peer down at the spot. “Noticed what?”

Mal looks at him with a crooked grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief, and says, “You have freckles.”

“A few…” Simon says warily, hastily continuing after recognizing the look in Mal's eyes, “but I think most of them are actually moles.”

“Whatever,” Mal says absently waving his hand dismissively. “I never noticed them before. I wonder how many you have…” Mal’s voice trails off as his fingers start to slide along Simon’s skin. He eyes Simon’s chest intently and then leans down and licks the little brown spot on his collarbone. “One,” he announces.

Keeping his face mere inches from Simon’s skin, Mal searches for the next freckle. Simon squirms and wiggles as Mal’s warm breath glides across his skin.

“Mal…,” Simon complains, running his fingers through Mal’s hair and giving it a light tug. “That tickles.”

“Shush. You’re breaking my concentration,” Mal says before giving Simon’s lips a quick kiss before looking intently at Simon’s mouth. He cups Simon’s head in both hands and tilts his head slightly, into the light. Mal smiles roguishly and then leans in and gives Simon a long, slow, wet, slightly off-centre kiss. He runs his tongue over and over Simon’s bottom lip until the younger man is moaning quietly and clutching at his arms, trying to draw him closer. Mal nibbles lightly at a spot just below his lip and murmurs, “Two,” before resuming his hunt, leaving Simon a bit dazed.

“Oh! Three!” he exclaims with glee and flicks his tongue a hair’s breadth away from the deeper pink of Simon’s left nipple. Simon sighs and settles back onto the pillow, knowing he’s in for a thorough examination. Not that he really minds – every swipe of Mal’s tongue and hands sends a little jolt of pleasure through him – he just figured he ought to put up some sort of token resistance.

“Mmmm. Found a little colony – four, five, six….seven!” Mal leans down and covers them with his mouth and laves the small area halfway down the right side of Simon’s ribcage and gives it a little nibble, while calmly holding Simon down with a heavy hand in the middle of his stomach. Simon’s hands are already back in Mal’s hair as he tries not to squirm under the attention.

Mal takes Simon’s hands out of his hair and then inspects his arms, latching on to his right bicep with a murmured ‘eight’ and then paints circles on the noted area with the tip of his tongue. Strong hands gently, but firmly, turn him this way and that, flipping him over onto his stomach and then back again, as the inventory continues. Slowly Mal looks at every inch of Simon’s pale skin, kissing, licking, or sucking every spot he finds. By the time he’s up to fifteen, Simon’s a trembling wreck, aching with desire from the thorough tongue-bath he’s undergone.

“Mal,” he whimpers quietly as the bigger man slides slow fingers through the hair on his inner thigh, separating the strands, stroking closer and closer to his throbbing cock, but never close enough.

“Ah ha!” Mal exclaims gleefully. “Elusive number sixteen!” He bends his head and starts sucking hard at the very tiny spot high up on Simon’s inner thigh. Simon's body involuntarily curls into and away from the intense sensation at the same time and Mal plants a strong hand on Simon’s hip to hold him down.

Mal licks a wet trail up Simon’s thigh and looks at the quivering wreck he’s made of his lover. Mal leans down and laps up the pool of pre-come on Simon’s stomach, blows across the head of Simon’s cock, just to see his lover shudder and then says, “Turn over,” in a low, sexy voice that sends chills up Simon’s spine. Simon obeys the quiet command, squirming against the sheets, as he finally gets some friction on his erection.

“Uh, uh, uh. None of that,” Mal admonishes and places a strong hand in the middle of Simon’s back.

“Sadist,” Simon grumbles.

Mal chuckles in reply and, still holding Simon down firmly, licks a warm, wet trail down his spine, spiraling his tongue lower and lower as he heads for his ultimate goal.

Even though he knows what’s coming, Simon still gasps sharply when Mal’s tongue slowly paints a wet circle around the tight little pucker of flesh. Using his grip on Simon’s hips to hold him steady, Mal settles in to give Simon a thorough rimming. He licks and sucks and even nibbles, murmuring happily to himself as Simon falls apart. Simon’s pretty much lost it – arching and twisting, cursing him out in two different languages – when Mal finally presses inward with his tongue.

“Tianna,” Simon moans breathlessly as Mal works his tongue deeper into his body. Simon shudders and tries desperately to arch into the sensation, but Mal’s hands on his hips prevent him. “Maaaal,” Simon pleads.

“Yes, Simon?” Mal asks, and Simon shudders as the warm air from his words blows across the now over-sensitized flesh of his opening. “You want something?”

“Please, Mal.”

“Please, what?” Mal leans in and licks across the twitching pucker. “I want to hear you say it, baobei. Tell me what you want.” Mal then begins to tongue-fuck Simon in earnest.

“Oh JesusfuckMal,” Simon whimpers, the sensation jolting through him, at once both wonderful and not nearly enough, just making him want more, and then he suddenly bursts out, “Your cock. I want your cock. Fuck me, please.”

Mal places one last kiss on Simon’s moist flesh and then grabs the massage oil that they like to use. Mal slicks himself up quickly. He loves making Simon beg, loves hearing the filthy words coming out of Simon’s sweet, innocent-looking mouth. He grins remembering how hard it had been getting Simon to say the words ‘fuck me’ for the first time. It had taken hours of slow teasing to break through Simon’s reserve, but he’d finally done it. He considers it one of his greatest accomplishments.

“Mmmmm, Simon, I love it when you talk dirty,” Mal teases while positioning himself between the younger man’s legs and pulling him up onto his knees. Simon braces himself on his elbows, says nothing and merely spreads his legs wider and arches his hips upward. Mal slides his hands up the curve of Simon’s ass, spreading him wide and holding him steady, and presses in slowly, savoring the moment, waiting for Simon’s body to relax and open further.

Because he’d only used his tongue, Simon’s body is tight around him, resisting the intrusion, gripping his cock like vise. Mal’s breath shudders out of his lungs as he pushes gently against the resistance until he’s fully seated against Simon’s ass. He stops, draping himself over Simon, and kisses the back of his neck and shoulders and strokes his back and sides with gentle fingers while they both adjust to the sensation.

Mal sets a slow, easy, teasing rhythm, a bare rocking of his hips that soon has Simon begging for more in a desperate, needy voice. Instead of increasing his pace, Mal shifts position slightly and starts to move his hips in a slightly circular motion. Simon gasps and clutches at the sheets, pressing his face against the bed as Mal brushes over his prostate again and again.

Simon shudders and quakes under him, panting for air as wave after wave of pleasure courses through him, he’s finding it hard to catch his breath and it feels so good, so damn good, but it’s not enough, never enough and then Mal wraps his arms around him and pulls him up off his elbows and thrusts in deep and hard. Simon cries out in ecstasy and leans back into Mal’s strokes as he increases the pace slightly.

Finally able to use his hands, Simon begins to stroke himself. Mal curls his hand over Simon’s and forces him to match the maddeningly slow pace of his thrusts. “Just like that, Simon. Long and slow. Yeah, just like that,” Mal whispers in his ear before sucking gently on his earlobe. Mal returns his hand to Simon’s hip, knowing that Simon will follow his lead.

Simon twists and captures Mal’s mouth in a long, languid kiss, curling his tongue around Mal’s and sucking on it until Mal moans into his mouth. He releases Mal’s lips and leans back against his strong body, resting his head against his shoulder and curving one hand back to cup around Mal’s ass, giving himself up to the sensations.

Mal plays his body like a fine instrument, stroking against his nipples, pulling and pinching, and rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers, sending little sharp jolts down Simon’s spine, adding to the slow build-up of pressure in his balls as he rides the waves towards completion.

The quiet slap of his hand joins with the slap of Mal’s hips against his ass, mingling with their quiet pants and moans. Simon teases himself mercilessly, never adding the pressure or speed he really needs to bring himself off. So when it comes, it comes with a surprising suddenness and Simon’s breath catches in his throat as his climax shudders through him. He comes hard and hot across his hand and as he shudders and moans in Mal’s arms, Mal’s grip on his hips tightens and Mal starts to ride him hard. His body jerks with each pounding thrust against his prostate and he gasps and writhes as his body is overloaded with sensation.

“Simon,” Mal whispers in his ear and his hips jerk against Simon’s ass several times as he comes.

They fall gracelessly onto the bunk in a tangle of limbs and try to catch their breath. Shifting out of Simon with a groan, Mal flops onto his back and pulls Simon against him. They kiss and stroke each other, soothing away the aftershocks and slide into the languor that comes after sex.

Mal is more than half asleep when he feels Simon’s fingers tracing a path on his chest. “Whatcha doin?” he mumbles, not even able to open his eyes.

Soft lips stroke against his skin and he can feel the smirk on Simon’s lips as he says, “One…”