The Evils of Sake

So. One day, skripka found an evil picture of Simon (from Can't Take the Sky), and decided she wanted a fic to go with it. Then she roped sffan into her madness. And this is what happened.

Mal Reynolds was pissed. This was the fourth bar he had been to, looking for his wayward ship's surgeon. Whatever had possessed the boy, he had no clue, but Mal was about ready to spit nails. Smoke filtered the dim light, and Mal had to squint to see anything clearly. Other than the few patrons who looked up at his entrance, he recognized no one. As he was turning around to head back to the street, he caught a bit of a familiar voice. "...sake, dong ma?" It was slurred, but it was unmistakably Simon.

Mal turned his head, following the last echoes of Simon's voice, and finally spotted him seated on a stool in a corner where the long bar curved towards the back, covered by shadows. Mal watched as Simon swayed slightly and downed the sake the bartender handed him in one quick swallow. "Bartender," Simon slurred again, as he slapped the glass back down onto the bar. "Another."

Mal frowned, puzzled. It was obvious that the doc was pretty drunk; the question was, why? Likely, he thought to himself, the same reason he had stalked off the ship earlier. Mysteries would have to wait. The important thing was to get the boy back to Serenity. Then, Mal could have all the time in the world to rip Simon a new one. Stupid kid. A bar like this one? On a colony like this? The doc was lucky he was still on-world. Maybe it wasn't luck, Mal amended. The denizens of this bar didn't look smart enough to sell their mothers out, so maybe the appearance of the fancy-vested doctor hadn't rung any bells. Still, that thought didn't stop him from stalking to the bar and grabbing Simon's arm.

"Fun's over, top three percent. Time to get back to the ship."

Simon looked blearily up at Mal and grinned. "C..cap'n! Have a drink with me. The sake here is..." His voice fell into a bad stage whisper and he leaned into Mal, nearly falling off his stool. "Actually it's pig swill, but it gets the job done." Simon raised his voice and called out to the bartender, "Sake for my friend an' another for me!" Simon then hiccupped loudly and covered his mouth with both hands before bursting into giggles. His motions overbalanced him and Simon slid even further off the stool. Mal quickly let go of Simon's arm and put his arm around the smaller man's waist and held him steady.

Simon smiled up at him and patted the hand around his middle lightly. "My hero," he slurred and then turned back to the bar. "Bartender! Gorramit, where's our drinks? Erzi siyu yunchun jinqin fanzhi jinyu!"

Mal's eyes widened at the insult and he said, "I think you've had enough, there, Doc. Why don't you come with me?" He eyeballed the bartender, hoping the man was used to drunks calling him names, because the last thing Mal wanted right now was a bar brawl. What he really wanted was to get Simon's ass the hell out of this place before someone noticed him.

Tossing a few bills onto the bar, Mal steered Simon towards the exit. "My drink..." The younger man tried turning back, but Mal was able to manhandle him into the right direction.

"It's late, Doc." Mal grunted. Simon was surprisingly strong. "Time for all good boys to be locked up in their bunks."

Simon rolled his eyes, and a good deal of his body, at that. "Everyone thinks I'm a good boy. I'll have you know, Captain, I had quite the reputation at MedAcad."

The two men stumbled out the door. "I'm sure you were a ladies' man, Simon." Mal gave Simon a shove down the dark street. "Just keep walkin'."

Simon started to laugh, snickering and snorting "ladies' man" under his breath as they continued down the street.

"Dammit, Simon, what the hell is so ruttin' funny?" Mal asked with exasperation.

"You know that story I was tellin' Kaylee 'bout that time I was arrested?" Simon asked as he unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on his shirt and started fanning himself. Losing track of the conversation, Simon asked, "Is it hot? I'm hot." And he got another button undone before he ran afoul of his vest, which seemed to stump him. "What was I sayin'? Oh yeah. Right. That story." He grabbed Mal by the arm and used it to pull himself up to Mal's ear. "Edited. Highly edited. Weren't the only naked man on that statue. Wasn't singing either." Simon laughed low and throatily in Mal's ear before curling himself around Mal's arm like a leech.

"Oh no, Doc, this story ain't going where I think it's going, unless it means you're going straight back to your bunk." A firm yank on Mal's arm, and Simon pulled him into a shallow alcove.

"C'mon, Mal." His eyes were bright. "I know you've been lookin' at me." Simon's hand began to rub distracting patterns over Mal's sleeve. Hot breath caressed his ear, as Simon leaned close and whispered, "I'm curious as to what you've been thinking."

Mal groaned, and pushed away, reluctantly. "Certainly not this, Doc." Was Simon pouting at him? "I don't like complications, and this? This would turn into a fine kettle of complications."

Simon's petulant look brightened. "I'm not looking for anything, Mal. I'm just feeling...horny." Simon grabbed Mal by the suspenders and pulled him close. "Besides, I'm so drunk right now, I'm likely to forget allll about it. While you? You'll get to remember the best damn blow job you've ever had." Simon licked his lips slowly and wiggled sinuously against Mal.

Ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to take the boy up on his offer, Mal gently unpeeled Simon's fingers from his suspenders. "Doc...Simon, this ain't right. Now c'mon. Let's get you back to the ship and hope you don't remember this conversation," Mal said not unkindly.

"Fuck right," Simon said fiercely and reached out and grabbed Mal by the shirt this time. Unexpectedly strong, Simon pulled Mal off balance enough that he stumbled into Simon, who took full advantage of the situation to press his lips to Mal's.

Mal's brain shorted out as Simon's soft lips slid against his and his warm, wet, sake-flavoured tongue wormed its way between his lips to stroke and slide against his own. Simon slid his thigh in between Mal's legs, and began grinding, nice and slow. Mal moaned. Simon wouldn't let go of his mouth, and the way his tongue was working, Mal had no doubts about the young man's claim. He pressed in, feeling hard muscle underneath Simon's clothes, hands pulling at the waistband. Ripping his mouth away, breath short, he examined Simon's wet lips and flushed face. The young man's eyes were hot with lust, and a willingness to do anything for Mal. The thought made his heart skip a beat.

"I think first, though," Mal whispered hoarsely, "I need to give you a blow job so good that you can't forget." Ignoring the shocked look in Simon's eyes, Mal quickly undid the button, and slid a finger along the hard length of Simon's shaft.

Simon shuddered and moaned quietly, curled his fingers around Mal's neck and pulled him in for another heart-stopping kiss. Mal opened Simon's pants and teased the head of his cock languidly with light, barely there circles of his thumb. Simon arched into his hand and buried his face against Mal's throat, whimpering with need.

Mal pressed Simon back against the rough bricks and slid to his knees, still stroking Simon's cock. Looking up into Simon's beautiful, lust-dazed face, he slowly ran his tongue across the tip, lapping up the pre-come. Simon's hips jerked forward and his head fell back against the wall with a "thunk." Mal circled the head with his tongue, savouring Simon's taste and then slowly sucked the head between his lips. He wiggled his tongue against the slit and Simon buried his hands in Mal's hair, twisting his fingers in the fine, dark strands.

Sparks of pain tingled along Mal's scalp, but he was in control; he let Simon's dick pop out of his mouth, and laved it with slow, wet licks. He took a firm grasp of the base, and, using his free hand, slid Simon's pants further down. As he tasted the heavy, musky balls, Simon gasped, "Mal..." and thrust forward again.

Mal pulled back, just a bit. "Yes, Simon?" he smirked.

"Oh God, Mal, please!" Simon begged, and practically cried when Mal chuckled and sucked on his head again. The saltsweet pre-come coated his lips, and made Mal groan in pleasure. His own cock was straining to get loose, especially as Simon writhed and moaned in pleasure. A sharp yank was his only warning before Simon shouted hoarsely and spilled down his throat.

Mal sucked gently on Simon's cock, milking every last drop of come out of it, until it softened in his mouth and Simon squirmed from the over-stimulation. With one last swipe of his tongue that made Simon whimper, Mal pulled away. Simon's hands relaxed in his hair, but remained resting against his head as Simon continued to shudder with aftershocks. Mal got to his feet and tucked Simon's spent cock back into his pants with a gentle pat.

Mal looked down at Simon's flushed face and cupped it in one large hand, and ran his thumb across his cheek. Simon's eyes opened slowly, still hazy from his orgasm.

"You okay? Didn't hurt your head did you?" Mal asked with a bit of sly grin on his face.

Simon shook his head slightly and then leaned forward and licked Mal's lips slowly. Mal groaned and opened his mouth, pulling Simon into a long, wet kiss. Simon wrapped his arms around Mal and curled one leg over his hip and somehow took over the kiss. The next thing Mal knew his back hit the wall and Simon seemed to have grown extra hands which simultaneously shoved his suspenders down off his shoulders and opened his pants.

Warm, wet heat enveloped his cock as strong hands pulled his ass close. Mal looked down, and watched Simon's face, intent and focused, and sucking hard on his dick. His hands rested on the dark head, fingers deep in the thick hair. "Wode ma, Simon," he whispered, as Simon opened his throat and pulled him in deeper. The doc hadn't been exaggerating his skills.

Simon pulled back and teased the tip of Mal's cock with his lips and tongue. Mal groaned in frustration and Simon smiled wickedly. He pulled off altogether and blew cool air across the head.

"Simon..." Mal whimpered, trying not to use his grip on Simon's hair to push into his mouth.

Simon licked him from root to tip and then swallowed him whole once again. He undulated his tongue against the shaft and slid his hand down to cup and then slowly massage Mal's balls and then began to press rhythmically against the sensitive skin just behind them. Mal moaned loudly at the stimulation, and his hips bucked forward involuntarily. Increasing suction slowly, Simon looked up at Mal and began to hum. As the vibrations ran down the length of his cock, Mal began to swear in multiple languages. Straining, gasping, Mal came hard and then collapsed against the wall.

When Mal was able to open his eyes, he found Simon gently tucking his shirt in. Mal grabbed onto the hand, and pulled Simon closer. "Simon," he began. The pleasantly hazy afterglow dimmed in Simon's eyes.

"That's okay, Mal. I understand."

"Understand what?" Mal blinked in confusion.

"That this was a one-time thing; I know you don't get involved with crew." Simon tried to extricate himself from Mal's embrace. Mal held tight. "I think you're misunderstanding me, Simon." He took a firm grasp of Simon's waist, and looked into the blue eyes and realized that he couldn't think of a single word to say. Hoping that his actions could speak for him, he cupped Simon's face in both hands and kissed him gently and then kissed him again and again until the confusion faded from his eyes and he returned Mal's kisses just as enthusiastically.

"Let's get you back to the ship and tucked into bed," Mal said softly.


"Not unless you want to be," Mal replied.

"I don't."


"You know, I really should drink sake more often. Good things happen," Simon mused as they walked toward the ship docks.

"I thought you got arrested that other time?" Mal asked, putting an arm around Simon's shoulders.

Simon shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Yeah, but look what happened this time. I got you. I say that puts me ahead of the game."

Mal just pulled Simon closer and led him back home.

Compromising Collaborations | Compromising Positions