Simon leaned back on the brown, ratty couch, forearm pressing into his eyes. "I can't believe it."
Mal paused in his noisy search through one of the desks lined up in the cramped, dark room hidden at the back of Badger's lair. "Can't believe what?"
Not moving, Simon replied, "I can't believe that you let us be captured by Badger of all people."
Mal shrugged, and opened another drawer. "Not my fault," he muttered.
"Really." Simon didn't sound very convinced.
"I got distracted."
Simon opened his eyes, and sat up. "Indeed. Distracted by what, may I ask."
Mal paused again. He turned towards Simon. "That look."
Puzzled, Simon asked, "Which look?" and leaned forward, arms balanced on his knees.
Mal turned, and gave Simon a solid glare. "That look. The one which just so happens to turn me into a puddle of goo, thus effectively distracting me."
"Ah. You mean this look?" At that, Simon lowered his eyelids, and smoldered at Mal. Mal had to close his own eyes at the rush of heat to his groin.
"You know very well that look. Now, come over here, and help me find something, anything we could use to help us escape," and Mal turned back to the desk, sliding some papers onto the floor. Simon stood up, reluctantly, and almost shuffled over to the pile of papers strewn about the floor. He knelt down, and distractedly pawed through a few of them.
"I fail to see how a stack of Badger's laundry lists will help us do anything," he snarked, standing up, lazily. Mal grabbed Simon's arms suddenly, and yanked hard. Simon tensed, startled, but shortly relaxed into Mal's lazy kiss.
When Mal pulled away, Simon was glaring at him. "What?" he asked.
"You're not doing this right," Simon stated.
"Not doing what right?"
"The kidnapping...thing." Simon waved his hand about. "There are proper...behaviors and such."
Mal raised his eyebrow. "Such as?"
"Well, I'm not entirely sure, but I'm willing to bet that a make-out session wouldn't be included."
Mal reached down behind him, and triumphantly brandished a screwdriver. "But I found this!"
Simon stepped back, sighed, and leaned against the gutted desk. "Yes, and?"
Looking from Simon's unimpressed face back to his screwdriver, Mal frowned. "It's a screwdriver. We could use it to unscrew the hinges on the door and escape."
Simon rolled his eyes. "In case you didn't notice, Mal, it's a sliding door. No hinges. Nothing to screw."
Mal looked at the door. "Huh." He turned back to Simon. "I could always screw you," he smirked.
Simon actually looked shocked at the suggestion, and glanced down at the screwdriver. "Not with that, I hope!"
Mal chuckled, "No, but I could use it as a weapon if someone interrupts us." He leaned in closer to Simon, and kissed him again, deeper and harder. This time, when he finished, Simon actually looked mussed. Mal was beginning to like his plan.
"You have a one track mind, Mal." Simon attempted to straighten his hair, but Mal swooped in and caught his lips once more, leaning Simon backwards over the desk. Simon batted ineffectively at Mal's chest. "Mal!" he gasped, straining for breath, as Mal let him stand back up.
"What?" Mal grinned, as he began to slide his suspenders off.
"We are not reacting as proper kidnap-ees should. Stuff like this never happened on any of my previous kidnappings."
Mal considered, and then realized who Simon had been kidnapped with before. "I should hope not!"
He jumped at the sudden whap on his ass. Mock-growling, he slid his leg in between Simon's thighs, and kissed him again.
Things were getting interesting, and Mal was enjoying the sensation of Simon's tongue snaking its way down his throat, and the feeling of a zipper opening up under his fingers, when the zipper got stuck. Mal broke the kiss, and glanced down, looking to see if he could remedy the situation, when the door slid open.
"What have we here?" Badger asked, the smirk clearly audible in his voice.
"Can you come back..." Mal grunted, as he fought with Simon's pants. "...a little later? We're a bit busy, Badger." Mal ignored Simon's reddening face.
"Don't think so." Badger nodded to the two goons who followed closely at his heels. They entered the room, and the blonde one pulled Mal off of Simon, quickly trussing his hands behind his back.
"Hey," Mal protested, as the other goon tied Simon up, and unceremoniously dumped him onto the couch. Mal was turned to face Badger. "Are you going to kill us? If you are, I would mightily appreciate it if you could come back in an hour or so?"
Badger took the screwdriver that the dark goon handed to him, and began to flip it. "Sure, Renyolds. How about I give you, say, two hours? Seems it's going to take that long for that Alliance cruiser I called to get here." The short man nodded at Simon as the blood began to drain from the young doctor's blush. "Turns out your boyfriend there is worth a bit of change, now." Badger grinned at Mal, and turned to leave.
The blonde goon shoved Mal as he left, and Mal barely caught himself on the couch. He sprawled gracelessly, and glanced at Simon. Simon's face was the whitest he had ever seen it. Mal considered ways to distract and focus his lover, and not coincidentally, ways to escape their predicament.
"Simon?" Mal asked, catching his eyes. "Ain't gonna happen, I promise you."
Simon couldn't answer.
Mal frowned briefly, then said, "Well, anyway, at least we've gotten to more proper kidnapping etiquette, I'm sure." He struggled to his feet, and awkwardly made it to the second desk in the room. Frowning again, he tried using the toe of his boot to slide the drawer open. The boot slid, and Mal had to hop back to keep his balance.
"Simon!" he said sharply, forcing Simon out of his lethargy. The younger man raised his head. "I need your shoes here."
Simon stood, sliding up the wall. Mal was impressed by Simon's cleverness, as usual. He nodded at the recalcitrant furniture, and Simon hooked his shoe under the handle, and pulled the drawer out.
Mal couldn't see, as Simon paused, and looked into the drawer. "Well? Anything there we could use?"
Simon turned slightly, and answered, "Well, I'm not exactly sure."
"How can you not be sure?" Mal demanded, a little irked by Simon's mild tone.
"Don't shout, Mal. Remember, this is all your fault in the first place." Simon's eyes got a bit flinty, but his voice remained even.
Mal almost hit his breaking point. "Simon, you gotta trust me. Whatever I get us into, I can get us out of."
Simon just stared at Mal, then shrugged. And shrugged again. And twisted. Mal watched in fascination, as Simon wriggled his way out of the ropes tying his hands together. His jaw dropped at the same time the rope fell to the floor.
"How the diyu did you manage that?" he asked, stunned.
"It's an old trick," Simon stated, as he knelt down, and gathered the contents of the desk drawer. He stood. "Tense your muscles when you get tied up, and when you relax? The ropes are looser."
"Great!" Mal turned around. "Untie me, now."
"I don't think so."
Mal couldn't have possibly heard that right. "Huh?" he half turned.
He found Simon's hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to the couch. "Sit down, Mal." Simon pushed, and Mal collapsed, falling backwards. "You've been a lot of help so far, so why don't you just stay still for a bit."
Mal was almost livid, when Simon dropped to his knees beside him. "Look," Simon stated, and opened his left hand. In it was a three inch gash of metal, a rusted blade. Mal grinned, but it fell when Simon opened his right hand.
There was a small jar of...something. It looked an awful lot like...
"Simon, what has gotten into you?" Mal asked, incredulous.
Simon leaned in, and brushed a kiss across Mal's jaw, heading towards the ear. "You, I hope," he whispered.
Mal shivered, but managed to ask, "Um, did you forget about the whole death and Alliance thing?"
Simon grinned, traced his lips back down Mal's jaw, and asked, "Did you forget about the whole sex before dying thing?"
Groaning, because now Simon was sucking at his neck, Mal gasped, "I'd be more than willing to accommodate you, but I seem to be tied up at the moment." He twisted as Simon bit down gently.
"I'm sure you can be creative, Mal," Simon said, with an arch look. He plastered his lips to Mal's, nibbling before pulling away, and standing.
Mal could only stare, as Simon stripped down. First his shirt, then the shoes, and then finally, pants, socks, and underwear found their way to the floor. Shortly, Simon was gloriously naked, his cock hard and beginning to glisten with pre-come. Mal swallowed.
Simon stepped back, opened Mal's shirt, and unfastened his pants, sliding them down to his knees. He leaned down, and kissed his cock briefly before straddling Mal's hips.
"Um, Simon...," Mal started, ready to protest the further constraints on his movement.
"Creativity is a good thing, Mal." Simon responded, lining up their cocks. "I think you need to practice some."
Mal groaned, as Simon began to stroke, gently at first, then with more force. His head fell back, and Simon licked a line down his exposed throat. Mal gasped when Simon licked around his left nipple, and twisted when he bit down, hard.
"Simon!" he gasped, "Please!"
Simon chuckled, "Please what, Mal?" as he traced his tongue around the abused nub, and bit down again.
Mal chewed on his lip in an attempt not to yelp. Simon's hands hadn't stopped moving, and he began to feel slick pre-come coating his shaft. "Please don't stop...," he muttered, and closed his eyes. He heard another chuckle, then felt Simon pull away. A quiet schick as the jar of lube was opened, and Mal jerked at the sensation of coolness as Simon slicked his cock gently.
He found himself panting and sweating as Simon lowered himself onto his erection. Anticipation thrummed through his body, as he sank into that tight heat. Mal waited for Simon to move, to bring them both to ecstasy.
And Mal waited.
His eyes burst open when he realized that Simon wasn't planning to move. "Simon?" he managed to gasp.
"I know you, Mal. I know that after we have ourselves a nice hard fuck, that you're going to want to curl up and take a nap. You won't be able to plan our escape then, so consider this your opportunity to do so now."
"You have got to be kidding me!"
Simon leaned forward, the motion sending incredible sensations through Mal's body, and said, "Also, consider this a lesson in focus."
Mal's eyes closed again, and he groaned, "When we get out of here, I'm going to kill you."
Chuckling, Simon sat back up. "You say the most romantic things." Settling himself, he continued. "We have rope, and a sharp blade of metal. Think, Mal."
Mal groaned; he couldn't believe Simon was doing this to him. But, amazingly, his brain started working. "Rope. Blade. Um. Desk Drawers?"
Simon tilted once again. "Good. Don't forget the bookcase." Mal nodded, trying to focus, and his eyes opened in realization.
"You're trying to drive me out of my gorram mind, aren't you, Simon?"
The younger man shrugged, and another wave of pleasure coursed through Mal. "Could be."
Focus. That's all it was. He could do this. "Okay." Mal breathed in. "Me; Badger, blade, throat."
"Yes? And is there something you'd like me to do?"
Mal had to bite his lip to keep from saying what he had automatically thought. "You; goons, chair." With a start, Mal realized that every time he came up with another part of the plan, Simon moved, ever so slightly.
He was being rewarded.
The rutting doctor was conditioning him like Pavlov's dogs. And it was working. Mal's brain locked instantly onto his plan.
"I'll grab Badger, threaten him with the blade, and you rush the goons with the chair. When they're all on the floor, we get my guns, and you and I can quietly make our way to an old friend of mine's hidey hole." Mal gasped as Simon and Simon's body approved of the plan. However, after a few moments of ecstasy, Simon slowed down again. Mal managed not to scream in frustration. "What now?" he gritted out.
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes." Mal got over his frustration, figuring they would get back to the sex faster. "It should. Badger's probably got my guns in that outside room, and he don't know about Jake's hiding place." Simon smiled, and began riding Mal faster.
Mal grumbled, "You are such a tease." Simon slowed down once again, and Mal nearly shouted, "No! No! I didn't mean it!"
Smirking, Simon said, "Didn't think so," and sped up again.
This went on for a few minutes, and then Simon stopped for a third time. "This is getting ridiculous, Simon."
"I know, but I just had a thought." Simon's voice sounded worried. "What if the Alliance gets here before Badger decides to check on us?"
Mal replied softly, his body teetering on the edge of release. "Tell you what," he said as evenly as possible. "You just finish up what you're doing there, and then, you'll untie me, and then? Then I can guarantee that the screams you make when I blow you will have Badger and his goons in here in no time."
Simon seemed to consider that for one more moment, and started moving again.
Mal was twisting, and bucking, and trying to get some leverage. He had almost reached the point of no return. If Simon didn't stop again, he would have to figure out a way that his own screams wouldn't bring Badger running.
Focusing on the sensations of Simon's tight, hot hole encasing his cock, Mal found his breath coming in shallow pants. He tried getting deeper into Simon, but his lover controlled every move. And for some reason, that made his orgasm, when it shot through him suddenly, even more intense.
When Mal came to, he found Simon arranging his clothes. He had left his pants undone, and Mal licked his lips at the sight of the pale erection contrasting with the dark fabric of the pants. He watched Simon as he put his own clothes on.
Simon shrugged. "There is no way I'm running around Eavesdown Docks naked." Simon helped Mal stand up, tucking Mal away, and untying the ropes. "Now, I believe you made me a promise?" he asked.
Mal stretched the kinks out of his arms and legs. Simon's shirt was still open, showing Mal tantalizing glimpses of parts of his lover that he never got tired of seeing. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" He stepped closer, nudged Simon over to one of the desks, and lifted him up, spreading his legs. Mal stepped between Simon's legs, and kissed him deeply, while drawing his hand along Simon's erection.
Simon gasped, and Mal continued kissing and touching him, finding all the spots that made his lover's body come alive. He loved this part, making Simon moan, and shiver, and quake, and beg for more.
When Simon gave a soft whimper, Mal moved his mouth quickly down the other man's chest until his tongue caught underneath the head of his cock. Mal twirled and teased, bringing Simon closer to the edge. The thought of payback entered Mal's mind, of teasing Simon the same way he had been teased, but he dismissed it.
Then the inborn devil in him said, "Go ahead." He paused and pulled his mouth away, waiting for Simon to open his eyes. The look Simon gave him was so full of passion and just the barest edge of anger. Mal decided he found that look just as sexy as any of Simon's other looks.
"You had better finish what you started, Mal, or I will sleep in my own room for a week," he hissed.
Mal smirked, and replied, "Can't have that," just before he swallowed Simon's erection to the root. After that, and a few more swallows for good measure, Mal felt Simon's orgasm begin.
Simon started shouting, just like they had planned. Mal wasn't certain that the hands beating on the desk weren't improvised, but he thought it was a nice touch as he swallowed. A quick kiss on Simon's lips, a quick zip of his pants, and the two of them moved to their assigned places on either side of the door.
When the door slid open, Mal grabbed, and found his hands full of squirmy Badger. The metal shard was against the slimy man's jugular, as he pulled him off to the side. Simon rammed the rolling chair into the first thug's knees, and he fell backwards, taking the other goon with him.
Mal cursed, as the two henchmen struggled to rise. Why didn't his plans ever go smooth? Good thing he knew how to improvise. Ignoring Badger's protest, Mal slammed his adversary's head into the bookcase, and tossed him onto the floor.
Catching Simon's eye, the two of them shoved the bookcase on top of the goons, knocking them out. Mal clambered over the displaced furniture, followed shortly by Simon.
Once they were in Badger's office proper, Mal found his weapons in an unlocked cabinet. He attached his holster, and slid his pistol in while scanning the room. Every second counted; more of Badger's men could be on their way.
He saw Simon making for the door, and motioned towards the small window. Simon looked, shook his head, and pointed at the door.
Mal cleared his throat, and when Simon looked again, he gestured more forcefully at the window. Simon shook his head a second time, and crossed his arms, stubbornly. Mal drew his gun and pointed at the window one last time, and waited.
Simon stared, eyes incredulous, raised his hands in surrender, and approached the window warily. When Mal followed, after blocking the office's entrance with some loose furniture, he found Simon just staring out the open orifice.
Mal shook his head, then "helped" Simon, by lifting him bodily, and shoving him halfway through the window. He knew Simon wouldn't make any noise, but by the way his legs were kicking? Simon was definitely pissed. Mal smirked, patted Simon's ass, for good measure, and pushed his lover all the way through.
The two of them made their way quickly along the narrow streets, Simon cursing and muttering the entire time. Every twist and turn taking them closer to safety, and Mal amusedly half-listened as Simon cursed him, his ship, his old dog, his old cat, and his mother.
Mal grinned. Only he knew how much fun a supremely annoyed Simon could be. "Hey, I never did anything like that with my mother. And stop threatening to cut off my body parts," he said, as they steered around a decrepit shanty. "It's making me feel unloved."
Yeah, Simon could be a whirlwind of emotions, and Mal was getting practiced at manipulating them. It wouldn't take but a tweak to take him from pissed off to turned on, and Simon would be all over Mal like a drunk on a drink. Besides, although he could never say it to Simon, Simon was cute like this, and Mal liked watching him get riled.
They made it to the hidey hole, Mal pulling Simon up the stairs. He found the key, and entered the cubby hole. It was small, close, and windowless, but it was comfortably furnished. A muffled noise came through one wall, and Simon looked at him quizzically. "It's the back of a whorehouse," Mal explained. Simon rolled his eyes. Mal tried not to laugh. "Get some sleep. I'll radio Serenity, and tell them to lay low until morning."
Simon woke up, his body aching and tired. He tried stretching, but found he couldn't move. Startled he looked up into Mal's smirk.
"Ever hear the old saying. 'Turnabout is fair play,' Simon?"