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1
"Captain, you can't be serious."
Mal sighs again, audible even through the subpar audio quality of Jayne's bootleg communicator. "I'm not gonna repeat myself again," the captain says. "It's just overnight. So's long as y'all don't kill each other in the next twelve hours, I don't see the issue."
Simon buries his face in his hands, groaning in frustration. "Tāmāde–"
"'Course you don't see the issue!" Jayne yells, taking a break from angrily pacing in the cabin to glare at the tiny monitor. "Yer cozy in the ship, not havin' to worry 'bout the local law sniffin' you out!"
Jayne makes a good point, and Simon thanks his lucky stars that the merc has grown past the point of possibly ratting him out to save his own skin.
The job wasn't supposed to go like this, but none of their jobs generally tend to run smoothly anyway, so at least they're consistent. Mal and Zoë made a rather sightly exit with the goods they've been working on acquiring for the past two days, so now Simon and Jayne, the appointed recon and distraction team, have to wait a whole night in one of the inns on the planet they're stuck on.
"Now, I'm done arguin' about this," Mal says. "Inara will be down to get y'all at 1200 hours, so just… stay low, and kàn zài shàngdì de fèn shàng, don't do anything stupid or reckless."
He hangs up on them, and Simon barely makes it out of the way in time for Jayne to punch at the table the communicator is sitting on.
"Gorram stupid, is what it is," Jayne grunts, back to pacing like a cooped-up predator. "We did everything right! Mal and Zoe muck shit up and we're the ones stuck on this bèn de planet–"
"Jayne." The bigger man immediately stops his ranting when a popping cork echoes through the room, and Simon takes a few lazy gulps of red wine. Maybe his pallet has been desensitized by years of eating crude space food and mud whiskey, but it isn't too bad.
Jayne's looking at him with an unreadable expression, so Simon takes a seat at the only bed in the whole cabin and holds the bottle out. "We're stuck here for the night. Might as well make it bearable."
"Gonna need a lot more of that for 'bearable,' doc."
"I bought a whole case."
"That'll do it."
They end up sprawled on the floor about four bottles later, with Simon clutching his sides in laughter as Jayne describes one of his first jobs on Serenity that went poorly, to say the least.
"You didn't– "
"I fuckin' did."
"Completely naked? And that worked?! "
"Look, you see a man runnin' buck-ass naked in the town square, ain't no one payin' attention to anything else. Betcha can't say you've ever done anythin' like that, huh, Doc?"
Simon snorts, taking another swig of wine. "Well."
Jayne squints, partly to seem intimidating and partly because he's hammered and his eyesight is wobbly. "Don't try to tell me top three percent streaked at a fancy-pants ball or some shit."
"Not quite." Simon leans up against the dresser to tell his story, and if that means he's pressed a little closer to the merc now, neither of them seem to care. When he was interning on Druantia, his roommate got ahold of some beer and they ended up sneaking into his professor's office. They didn't know the professor was going to return for some grading that night, and caught the two med students bent over his desk.
"We ran out of there so fast I had to abandon most of my clothes, but he never mentioned it or reprimanded me, so somehow I got away with it." Simon laughs, but when he looks down at Jayne smiling viciously like he just won a prize, it's cut short. "Why're you looking at me like that?"
"Knew you was sly," Jayne drawls, relaxing back onto the floor. His head is practically in Simon's lap now. "S'that why you and l'il Kaylee never worked?"
Simon sighs. "I'm not– I don't have a preference. Kaylee and I just didn't click right."
"Y'all seemed to be clickin' an awful lot after Miranda," Jayne snorts.
Simon is quiet for a moment before he says, barely even slurring, "We did. And then… we didn't. I think we hit our expiration date, especially after everything that happened." He looks down at Jayne, who seems to have been watching him the whole time. "I like who I like, when I like them. It's fairly straightforward."
"Ain't nothin' 'bout you is straight."
Jayne gets himself giggling at that, and Simon takes a moment to study him. He rarely sees Jayne like this, completely open and almost soft. "I take it you've never sampled from the fruit platter, Jayne?"
"The hell's a fruit platter?" Jayne scoffs. "I've fucked men, if that's what yer askin'. Prefer myself a nice yīndào, but if a fella's girly enough…"
He trails off with a drunken smile, and because of Simon's own inebriation, his hand ends up in Jayne's messy hair. It's softer than it looks. Jayne looks up, locks eyes with Simon until he glances down at the doctor's parted lips, and Simon's breath cuts short.
"Yer hair's gettin' longer. Could start tyin' it up soon." Jayne reaches up to wind a dark curl around his finger. "When's the last time you been with a man, Doc?"
Simon's hand twitches and he scratches Jayne's scalp a bit, and damn if the little huff it gets out of the merc doesn't make most of his blood run south. Jayne's looking at him like he wants to eat him, in a much more enjoyable way than usual. He wants this.
"It's been quite a while."
Jayne grins, almost predatory. "Ain't that a damn shame."
"Uh huh," is the most intelligent thing Simon can say before he's sliding his hands to the sides of Jayne's face to haul him up, bending down to meet his mouth in the middle. It happens in a split second, and the room is full of moans and smacking sounds that would probably give someone more shameful a heart attack.
After a solid few minutes, Jayne forcibly pulls himself away. "Hold up, Doc. I don't do kissin' on the mouth, 'member?"
Simon crawls on top of him, all of his former bashfulness gone right out the window. Jayne is nice and solid underneath him, harder than the diamonds against Simon's own cock. "Why not? You're good at it."
That stumps the merc long enough for Simon to duck back back down and attack his mouth again.
An hour later, when they're slightly more sober and lying naked and sweaty on the only bed, Jayne pants out, "Alright. Maybe kissin' ain't so bad."
"Did you just admit that I was right about something?"
"Shuddup. We're goin' again in ten."
2
Jayne starts getting antsy when they don't have a job for a while. It's been a few weeks now, but no one's worrying just yet because of the haul they brought in on their last heist. But that kind of comfort only lasts so long for Jayne before he starts acting out.
Serenity is currently parked on one of the larger trading planet Olivian. Mal and Zoë are off making a deal, while Wash and Kaylee look for some sort of coil for the engine, and Inara and Book are escorting River to a local petting zoo. Simon just finished doing his medical inventory; he's debating on whether or not to join the others in the marketplace soon. Jayne, however, is stuck on the ship, since he didn't make the best impression on Olivian last time he was here. Apparently shooting a few con men rubs people the wrong way, who knew?
It's been a good few hours since everyone left, and Jayne is still pacing in the kitchen when Simon comes in. Simon silently pours himself a glass of water as he watches the merc, all tense and angry in a way that makes Simon want to–
"Got a starin' problem like yer sister, Doc."
Simon snaps out of his daze. Jayne is scowling at him now, and not in a fun way. He takes a sip of water for his suddenly dry mouth. "Already cleaned all of your weapons, I'm guessing?"
"Twice." Jayne grabs an apple off the counter and tears into it with malice, spewing bits of peel as he throws himself onto one of the dining room chairs. "Don't like bein' cooped up. Feel like a gorram zoo animal."
That depressing comment is enough for Simon to opt out of joining the others. He takes the seat opposite of Jayne, sips on his water for a moment.
They haven't spoken about what happened that night; the morning after was just a rush of trying to get out of the inn conspicuously to meet Inara, barely a word exchanged between the two of them. But that hasn't stopped Simon from looking more lately. Now he knows what that scruffy goatee feels like on his thighs, what it sounds like when Jayne comes. He'd like to hear it again.
The merc's jaw clenches, and the words spill out of Simon's mouth before he can stop them.
"I think we should have sex."
Jayne freezes mid-chew, doesn't move an inch, like when he's on a job and his life depends on it. "Shénme?"
"I'm bored, you're going stir-crazy, and the others won't be back for a while. Why not?"
"You wanna hump, right here 'n now?"
Simon blinks. "I'd prefer a bed, or at least somewhere that we wouldn't be caught so easily, but I can work with a table."
Jayne slowly finishes chewing, expression completely unreadable. Then he tosses the half-finished apple behind him, onto the floor like a caveman, and stands up. Doesn't break eye contact as he swipes the glass of water and chugs the rest of it.
"Bunk."
"Lead the way."
3
It's too quiet in the shuttle, quiet enough that Simon can still hear the engine cooling down and his own shallow breaths. He knows Jayne is just as terrified as he is, but the merc is quieter about it, likely from experience.
It's dumb luck that they found such a run-down looking shuttle on O'Hare that Jayne was handy enough to jerryrig into working, with twice as much product as they were expecting to take in the hull. It felt like an easy, even fortuitous job all things considered. They had just hailed Serenity and were headed that way when Simon spotted the ship. Jayne was quick to shut everything off and now they're huddled in the back, praying to whoever's watching that the Reavers approaching don't want to waste any time on what looks like an empty shuttle.
Jayne gave him a gun immediately, one of his favorites that Simon sort of knows how to use.
They'll be under the ship soon. Jayne breaks the silence with a low rumble, a whisper Simon's never heard from him before, as he holds up his own pistol and removes the safety. "When they latch onto the shuttle," he says, "I'll make it quick."
Part of that makes Simon nearly fall into a complete panic attack, while the other half is relieved that Jayne would take the time to do so. To make sure Simon wouldn't suffer. That he wouldn't have to watch what they do to Jayne.
Simon takes the safety off his, too. "Likewise."
Jayne gulps, looks at him with something almost akin to fondness. Scratch that, it's close to adoration. "Since ya can't hold me to it later… it was nice knowing ya, Simon."
Simon stares at him for a moment, and while it's probably just the adrenaline, he has the urge to say some rather affectionate things to the man who he now wishes he got to know better. Instead he thinks, fuck it, why not go out with a bang.
"Hold this," he whispers, handing the gun over so he can slide further down onto the ground and start working on Jayne's belt.
"The hell are you–"
Simon glances up to see wide eyes, but they're looking a lot less terrified than a moment ago, so he keeps undoing the merc's pants.
"Keep your eyes on the ship, Cobb," he says before whipping Jayne out to suck the daylights out of him one last time. If they survive this he's definitely getting an earful for being mouthy, but right now he's just trying to make one last fond memory.
4
Simon's never seen Jayne so happy.
Since they arrived on his home moon of Winifred, the merc has been in the best of moods, swinging his mother and sisters around like they weigh nothing and helping pack their little shack up with no complaints.
Simon wasn't the only one surprised by Jayne's decision to relocate his family after they got an abundance of credits from the O'Hare job. Apparently having a near-death experience with Reavers makes a man sentimental, so he's paying Mal to move his whole family to a planet a ways away, one that has better job opportunities and quality of living. When Simon heard his sister Buck has been having respiratory issues for a while, he offered to join Jayne on his overnight trip to Winifred. River decided she was going too, and neither man was about to convince her otherwise.
Jayne's family is nothing like Simon expected. When Simon and River grew up, their parents were certainly present, but the actual raising of them usually fell to nannies and the like. He could count the amount of times he received a hug from his parents on one hand, but when they landed on the extra shuttle to Jayne's old farm, his mother ran out of the house on one good leg to hug her son, and immediately started lecturing him on how scruffy his hair was getting, how he's clearly not eating enough home cooking.
Surprisingly, Jayne's mother Eileen has been more than welcoming, trying to feed Simon and River as soon as they set foot on the planet. Later when they finish dinner, she privately thanks Simon for making sure her 'baby' has made it this far, and that makes Simon forget how to breathe for a moment.
It's late in the night now; Eileen is off to bed, and River is with Jayne's sisters in the shack having the time of her life. Simon slips out of the cabin to join the merc on the makeshift patio outside. Jayne is staring off into the cloudy distance ahead.
He looks nice like this, relaxed and happy in the comfort of his old home. The fact that he's comfortable enough with Simon and even River to bring them here is something Simon never would have expected. Jayne's always been a bit of a mystery, like those toy boxes River used to love that you'd have to smash to bits to get to the surprise inside.
Next time they go on a trader planet he's going to try to find some of those toys. River and Jayne would probably love them.
The merc offers Simon the bottle of moonshine he's been working on all night without a word.
"Thank you." Simon takes a small sip, probably burning the hairs out of his nose in the process, and Jayne laughs heartily at his expense.
"That ain't like saké you get on the core, Doc," Jayne says as he takes it back. "Stuff'll make you a man."
"I am a man," Simon protests, sounding slightly like a dying cat. "You of all people should know that."
Jayne snorts again, takes a swig as he looks up at the stars. There's so much pollution that it's hard to see the two moons above.
After a moment Simon says, "I examined your sister. She has a persistent lung infection, likely caused by the pollution here. A steady supply of antibiotics will eventually cure it."
"How much'll that set me back?" Jayne says to the sky, always thinking about money, and who he can steal it from.
"I've already supplied your mother with six months worth," Simon replies. "If it's still an issue after that, she'll contact you."
Jayne finally looks over at him. "You what?"
Simon plucks the moonshine out of his hand, takes a swig. He almost doesn't flinch, and feels very proud of that. "I was paid extra for O'Hare, too. And your family is much more welcoming than you are; they certainly deserve it. It was no trouble."
Jayne keeps staring at him with a furrowed brow, to the point where Simon can't tell if he's about to be hit or kissed, until Jayne grabs him by the arm and hauls him close to practically maul Simon's mouth with his own. Simon's arms slide up over his broad shoulders and he can't help but let out a little sigh, feeling warm and comfortable after a surprisingly nice day.
Eventually Jayne pulls away, gazing down at Simon like he's a brand new toy he can't wait to figure out. "You're something else, Doc."
Simon blinks. "Well, that's one way to say thank you, I suppose–"
Jayne kisses him again, soft this time, his hands firm around Simon's waist. "Thank you," he mutters against his lips. "For helpin' me help 'em."
"They're good people," Simon says with a smile. "I know River and I were raised like…"
"Tight-ass core folk?"
"...tight-ass core folk, yes, but while we were certainly privileged, able to get almost anything we want, I never got a family like yours. They clearly care about you a lot. And I care about…" he pauses, rethinks his wording so the alcohol doesn't reveal anything that doesn't need to be said now, "our crew a lot. I'll do whatever I can to help. It's certainly the least I can do."
Jayne studies him for one more moment, like he wants to say something but can't word it right, before glancing at the shack. "The girls good in there?"
"I– yes, your sisters are braiding River's hair."
"Right." One hand slides down to firmly smack Simon's ass. "I left something in the shuttle. Definitely gonna be a two-man job gettin' it."
Simon grins. "Really? You need a hand? Jayne Cobb, professional mercenary, hero of Canton–"
"I can make it a one-hand job if you don't watch yer prissy little mouth," Jayne threatens, but he's smiling too, and practically dragging the doctor towards the parked shuttle a few meters away.
"No, I wouldn't want you to strain anything," Simon laughs. "Though as a doctor, I'm qualified–"
Jayne shoves him through the shuttle entrance and onto the bed, and that's the end of that.
5
Evenings like this, the ones where you ain't being shot at and have a hefty handful of credits in your pocket to spend on shitty whiskey and too many rounds of pool, surrounded by folks you consider a second family, are Jayne's guilty pleasure.
Sure, there's plenty fun in taking out a bunch of thugs, or heisting out crates of product from moving trains (they've gotten much better at these.) And Jayne's great at it. But he's also great at drinking, and bar games, and bar fights. So here they are at a húndàn bar, surrounded by drunk morons and whores, acting a fool just 'cause they can.
And watching the designated nutjob beat a bunch of grown men at pool is just a treat to watch.
The doc is at the end of the bar, dressed up all fancy with his hair in a loose bun, sipping on some girly red drink all night. He's on his second. Jayne's planning on dragging him to the bathroom to defile him something nasty when he starts his third. The rest of the crew is cheering on River, who's crawling on the pool table in a way that's both terrifying and downright hilarious.
He's too busy staring the doc down, desperately wanting to be the straw he's sucking on right now, to notice Mal practically teleportizing next to him with a gleam in his eye that means he's more than a little drunk.
"You've been doing good, Jayne."
Oh yeah. Definitely boozed up. Jayne grins, feeling loose from the whiskey himself. "That so? Feel like showin' that in a monetary-like way?"
"That's a big word for you." Mal jerks his head over to the back, where most of the whores like to relax at, and one of the girls is already looking his way. She ain't too bad to look at. Nice teeth, long dark hair. Jayne looks back at Mal, who just rolls his eyes. "Girl's been lookin' at you for the past hour and you're over here daydreamin' 'bout guns. I'm sayin', you done good lately, so I'm willin' to treat you."
Jayne looks over at the whore again, who's smiling back coyly. Any other day, he'd probably say yes, but that'd interfere with plans he's already made with himself. "Thanks, Cap'n, but I'll pass."
Mal looks like he got shocked for a second. "Sorry, must be drunker than I thought. Come again?"
"I'm good," Jayne says. "Don't need a whore." Mal keeps looking at him like he's a sideshow freak. "Blink, húndàn."
"You turned down a free whore. That's plenty cause for no blinkin', Jayne. You feelin' alright? Should I grab the doc?"
Jayne smirks and chugs the rest of his whiskey. "Actually, yeah. Mebbe I'm comin' down with somethin'. Might need to swing by the infirmary."
"Well, Simon just left, so now's the time to do it."
Jayne whips around, and sure enough, Simon's gone. His prissy little drink is half-finished where the man was sitting. Mal keeps talking, and it takes a moment for Jayne to focus back on him. "Huh?"
"Just go, Jayne."
He's outside in a moment, catches the doc right before he's able to leave the deck of the bar. "Wèi, Doc. Where you runnin' off to?"
Simon won't look at him, and it reminds Jayne of how they used to act around each other. He doesn't like it.
"Simon–"
"I'm going back to the ship," Simon says. "Not really in the mood for… I'm just tired. I'm fine, Jayne. Go inside and enjoy your night."
He's walking away before Jayne can say anything else, and the merc is left standing there feeling like he missed something, which generally just pisses him off.
He storms back inside and orders another beer, wondering if maybe Mal will put that offer back on the table, and then the thought of that makes his stomach hurt something weird, when River drifts up next to him in her special creepy-ass way. Judging by the look in her eye, she's stolen a few sips of Kaylee's fancy lady drink.
He almost jumps when she breaks out into giggles, and stops just as quick. "Stupid."
"Shuō huà zhù yì diǎn–"
"Can't. That's physically impossible." She looks up at him with those big eyes. "You're both stupid. Seeds aren't gonna grow without the proper fertilizer and sunlight."
Jayne rolls his eyes. He's getting better at figuring out what the hell she's saying, about half the time anyway. "So ya know."
"Most things. Working on the things I don't." She has the audacity to steal his drink, and for some reason he doesn't stop her. "You should be an outlier. Stop being stupid. Simon needs sunlight; he's far too pale."
"You ain't wrong."
Jayne looks around the bar. The crew is having a grand time; Mal and Kaylee are teaching Inara and the preacher darts, and Wash is twirling his wife around like she don't kill people on the regular. Jayne could go for some twirling.
"Cryptic-ass message received," Jayne says, stealing his drink back and chugging half before handing it back to her. "Don't tell yer brother I let you have that."
The girl positively beams at that, taking the glass gratefully. "Xièxiè. Goodnight, Jayne." And then she's off, likely to scare the pants off some other poor mercenary.
He leaves the bar without saying any byes; the ship ain't far and he's there in a minute, but the whole place is quiet. When he goes to the infirmary it's dark and empty, so there's only one place left to check. He doesn't bother knocking, just opens the hatch to Simon's bunk and hops in, catching a very nice eyeful of the doc's chest as he slides a sleeping shirt on.
"Jayne? What are you–"
"Ya left the bar like a damn fed walked in," Jayne says, slowly closing in on Simon. He's so much smaller than Jayne, not even in height, but just compact. He wants to throw him on the bed, but Simon's brow is pinched, and he looks like someone just shot his puppy. "Wanted to make sure yer alright."
"I'm fine." The doc's a shit liar. Jayne tells him that, and gets an eye roll in return. "Jiàn tā de guǐ, Jayne, it's nothing, really. I made myself upset, so I decided to come home. There's nothing more to it."
He lets the doctor wander away from him. It's a small bunk. He can't get too far. "Upset over what? Drinkin' and dancin'? I've seen you–"
"I saw you, Jayne," Simon says, angry and tired all at once. "You and the captain, looking for… someone for the night. Pardon me for not wanting to watch that."
Because of the booze, it takes a few seconds for Jayne's brain to catch up. "Yer jealous."
The doc refuses to look at him, but his cheeks are bright red, and he looks a mite sick. "I know. It's stupid, and not what we're– it's not… I'll deal with it. Please, just go back to the bar."
In a second he's got the doc in his arms, pulling him close to kiss him like he wanted to do in the bar. Their lips are chapped, and the doc seems like he's about to explode from nerves, but it's not long before Simon's got a hand around Jayne's jaw and another sliding under his shirt. Jayne loves how the doc kisses, softer and touchier than any hick Jayne's locked lips with.
Eventually they have to break away to breathe. Simon looks drunk, and Jayne wants to eat him alive.
"Don't want no ruttin' whores," Jayne grits out. "Just you. You drive me batshit, but you make me feel… things."
"You've such a way with words."
Jayne smacks him on the ass. "Trynna be romantical, smartass."
"Right. Sorry." He don't look the least bit sorry. "You feel 'romantical' towards me?"
"I'm not 'bout to start recitin' poetry like Wash, but I'll kill people for ya like Zoë."
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Simon leans up to kiss Jayne again, and ends it way too quick. "If you're serious, Jayne, we'll need rules."
"You seriously trynna take all the fun outta sexin' each other up?"
Simon starts backing Jayne back onto the bed, until he's straddling the merc's lap. Jayne takes the opportunity to untie the string in Simon's hair, letting those growing locks fall down and brush against his face. "Rule one. No more whores."
"Don't need 'em if I got a perfectly willin' fàngdàng doctor on board, do I?"
The doc bites his earlobe. "You're incorrigible. Rule number two, we keep this between us."
"What, you ashamed of me?" He says it playfully, but there's some sincerity in there he hopes the doc picks up on.
"Not in the slightest; I just enjoy having you to myself. And I know the notion of sneaking around works for you as much as it does for me."
Jayne kisses him for that, long enough that he nearly forgets they were conversing in the first place. "Got anymore rules for me? Or can we get to humpin'?"
"We'll figure it out later," Simon says breathlessly, tugging his shirt back off and hiking up Jayne's next. He's like a damn cat writhing in Jayne's lap, and the merc is greatly looking forward to making him yowl like one here in a minute. "Need you now."
"You got me, bǎo bèi."