Falling Upward Title: Falling Upward Author:ladytalon1 Fandom: Firefly Pairing: Mal/Jayne Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any $$ Word Count: 4,580 *hides* A/N: For the shiny_hats Summer Ficathon, Prompt #67:Jayne was abused at the hands of his last captain. Can Mal help him learn to trust again? Hover for translations and remember - feedback's a fangirl's best friend :)
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There’s something wrong with his mercenary, and Mal can’t quite figure out what it is. Ever since he joined the crew, Jayne’s been ill at ease and extremely jumpy around him – Wash and Zoë have hinted at strange noises coming from beyond the bunk wall they share with the big man, but if they know exactly what is going on, Mal has yet to hear of it. The married couple treats Jayne as cautiously as Mal does, as if they’re all not quite sure what to make of him – the only one aboard who has no reservations about the dangerous mercenary is Kaylee, who has never been able to see the evil in others even when it stares her in the face.
The thing that worries Mal is that whenever he gets close to Jayne, the big man starts acting very strangely – he starts to sweat, and the fact that he won’t meet his eyes makes the captain suspicious. He goes out of his way to ensure that there’s always someone else there whenever Mal wants to talk to him, even if it’s just to discuss the amount of ammo Jayne thinks he’ll need for a certain job. Mal has tried to take all this in stride, trying to push away the attraction he feels for the big merc, but he can’t deny that it hurts every time Jayne avoids his eyes and draws away from him sharply whenever they’re close enough to touch.
It comes to a head sooner than Mal thinks, when they’re about to breach atmo on Beaumond and landing regulations require inoculations against the latest airborne virus. Luckily, their small infirmary has enough shots for them all until Zoë can get them more. Mal calls his Second and Jayne down to get their dose – Wash will get his once they’ve landed because the inoculations always make the pilot sick – and Jayne arrives first, hanging around the doorway nervously until Mal calls him inside. “C’mon in here, Jayne.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Jayne asks, looking around suspiciously. “Why we in here?”
Mal opens the drawer containing the last of the syringes and pulls one out, turning around to face his mercenary. “We just gotta get-”
“Get that away from me.” Jayne drops to a crouch and reaches for his knife.
“What…? Jayne, what the hell’s with you?” Mal steps forward curiously, noting how the color has drained from the other man’s face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Stay the gorram hell back,” Jayne rasps, fumbling behind himself with his left hand for something, anything he can use as another weapon since it’s obvious he’s not taking his eyes away from the syringe in Mal’s hand. The sound of a gun’s hammer being drawn back makes them both jump, and the captain looks over to see Zoë with her sidearm drawn.
“Someone want to tell me what’s goin’ on?”
Mal places the syringe back on the counter behind him, his own eyes on the large knife Jayne is gripping – he’s seen how fast the man can throw it, and how accurately. “I got no clue, Zoë. Let’s just all…calm down for a spell, dong ma?”
“Put the knife down, Jayne,” Zoë warns.
Jayne’s knuckles are nearly white from how hard he’s gripping it. Mal sees the look on the wild-eyed merc’s face and it cuts through him just as surely as if Jayne has already sliced him with the blade he carries. “Jayne…what’n hell’s goin’ on?” he asks softly.
The other man swallows hard, haunted blue eyes flicking from Mal to the abandoned syringe and back again – Zoë might as well not even exist. “I…I ain’t havin’ no one stick me with a needle,” Jayne growls back.
“Well, you ain’t settin’ foot on Beaumond without it,” Mal tries to explain. “Seems the folk down there don’t want no sick folk runnin’ free and-”
“Then I guess I’ll stay in m’ bunk ‘cause I ain’t havin’ no one stick me with that thing.” Jayne slowly lowers the knife and slips out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time in his haste to get away once Zoë steps aside to allow him to leave.
Mal runs a hand through his hair, exhaling hard as his Second looks at him with a strange expression on her face. “How’re we gonna get this into him?” he asks, motioning to the abandoned syringe.
“Think it’s best that we leave him be, Sir.”
He looks at Zoë with a frown. “You’d best smile when you say that – we can’t pull this job ‘thout him and you know it.” Upon closer inspection of the other woman, Mal is struck by something. “You know what all this is about?”
“Man’s been actin’ odd for a while now, Sir… so let’s just say that seein’ the way he looked at that syringe helped me put two and two together for a conclusion I don’t enjoy overmuch.”
“Uh…wha..? What kind of conclusion we talkin’ ‘bout here, Zoë? You know somethin’, you’d best come out with it now.”
The tall woman glances over her shoulder, but Jayne’s long gone so she turns back and settles a hip on the exam table. “Way I see it, somethin’ happened with his last captain. Only thing explains the way he carries on round you…that and what Wash and I’ve heard through the bulkhead during the sleep cycle.” Zoë stands and reaches for two of the syringes. “Think I’ve said all that’s needful, Sir. I’ll take this up to Wash.” She leaves Mal to his thoughts and the captain slowly puts the clues Zoë’s handed him together… and her words concerning a conclusion she doesn’t “enjoy overmuch” make sudden, stomach-churning sense.
Pushing away the sickening realization, Mal tries to concentrate on the pressing problem of the job – Zoë had been right, but they needed Jayne. He paces back and forth for a few minutes before the solution hits him and he heads out into the cargo bay to look for Kaylee.
_ _ _ _ _
Down in his bunk, Jayne sits on his bed staring at the opposite wall but doesn’t truly see what he looks at as he rocks back and forth unconsciously – in his mind, he’s back in his old berth reliving it all; the effort it took to keep the pain from showing, the shame that seemed to overshadow his every move, the ever-present sickness from the drugs used to render him docile. Jayne’s body jerks reflexively at the feel of the rough wool against his cheek and he launches himself off the bed, going for the nearest gun before he realizes that he’d simply leaned back against the blanket hung up over the wall. He’s in his own bunk on Serenity and not in his old ship. And he’s not fighting back the urge to vomit as hands press him down to the floor while…
He wonders if Mal will force him to simply hold out his arm and allow yet another person to put God knows what into his veins, and he wonders what he’ll do to Mal for insisting upon it. In the end, it’s Kaylee who raps on the bunk hatch and calls down to him cheerfully. “Jayne? You down here, wenshen?”
Despite himself, Jayne has to smile at the girl’s greeting – ever since she’d seen him wear a shirt he’d picked up on Persephone with the word “Trouble Maker” emblazoned on it, Kaylee has taken it upon herself to bestow that particular nickname upon him and uses it every chance she gets. Jayne’s wondered time and again if the tiny mechanic is after some sort of sexual dalliance, but hopes she merely means her attentions to be seen as the beginnings of friendship. If he wasn’t trying so hard to forget what exactly happened on his previous berth, he wouldn’t mind… but even his friendship is hard enough to give to anyone at the moment. “Whatcha want, girl?”
Kaylee shimmies down the ladder and drops to the floor of the bunk, a smile on her pretty face as she looks at him. “Cap’n said he needs ya t’ be ready for the job, so…” She makes a motion towards her pocket and Jayne is filled with a sudden rage at the thought that Mal is making sweet little Kaylee do his dirty work for him. “Truth be told, came down here to ask for help,” she continues, rolling her eyes expressively. “We gotta be inoculated for some such thing, an’ I can’t stand puttin’ no needles in my own self.”
“Uh huh,” Jayne says, eyeing her while he tries to decide whether to laugh at the ruse a newborn baby would see through, or to get angry and throw her out. In the end, he does neither. “Lemme guess – you want me to stick that needle in ya, an’ you’ll do me.”
She beams back. “Yep.”
As Kaylee is going back up the ladder, Jayne watches her leave and thinks of how crafty his new captain really is for using the one person on board he’s even thought about trusting.
_ _ _ _ _
Over the next few weeks, Mal does his best to show the big man that he means no harm - when they pass in the corridor, Mal makes a point of drawing to the side so Jayne doesn’t have to. He makes no sudden movements around Jayne and even when he longs to scream at the man for doing something incredibly stupid – and it happens with alarming frequency – Mal lightens his tone and keeps from yelling with struggles that leave him drained of energy. Kaylee aids and abets his efforts with the ill-concealed glee of a born meddler and Wash, for once, has no comments to make.
The tension that always keeps Jayne strung tighter than a loaded crossbow begins to ease with painful slowness. Each time Mal looks at him, his mind is filled with all the different things that may or may not have happened to the mercenary and just the thought of it makes anger well up inside him, making him bite the inside of his cheek until he tastes the coppery tang of blood. He’s never claimed to be the best captain a ship ever had, but he’s never so grievously misused his position as head of a crew, either. It’s hard to know whether or not the feelings he has for Jayne have come about as a natural result of finding a kindred spirit, or as a misguided plan to gain Jayne’s trust and show the other man how different he really is from the other captain.
Mal bides his time until it all comes spilling out into the open one night when he goes up into the cockpit for his watch.
Jayne is slouched in the co-pilot’s seat as usual; for some reason that Mal can’t fathom, he’s never taken Wash’s seat although he’s been aboard long enough to know that the rest of them sit there on their separate watches. Jayne’s long fingers curl reflexively around the handgrip of the gun resting in his lap even though Mal has a feeling that the merc knows exactly who it is stepping over the threshold. “Seen anything?” he asks with false cheerfulness, wondering just what it will take to get the message through that he’s not a man Jayne has to worry about.
“Some bad Cortex porn, that’s ‘bout it,” Jayne grunts, starting to stand.
Something in the way that his hand still rests on his gun makes Mal’s stomach drop and the captain can stay quiet no longer. “Whyn’t you sit back down and stay for spell?”
Jayne’s mouth tightens immediately, and his summer blue eyes flick towards the door as if sensing a trap. “That an order?”
“You take that however you like. I got something that needs sayin’ and you got yourself a pair of ears needin’ to hear it.” Jayne slumps back in his seat mutinously but even that much gives Mal hope so he continues. “Don’t rightly know what went on in the last ship you crewed on, but I’ll tell you right now that it’s not that I don’t care.”
The big merc frowns at this turn of phrase, his lips pursing slightly as he tries to audibly puzzle through Mal’s meaning. “So, if’n you don’t not care, then that means that…that…”
“You wanna tell me, it goes no further than this room. I reckon I can stand to hear it if you can stand to speak on it.”
Blue eyes narrow at him suspiciously. “Everyone on ruttin’ board comes in this here room.”
Mal tries not to smile. “You know what I meant.”
“Maybe so,” Jayne says distrustfully, turning his gaze back to the stars and falling silent. He’s still not getting up to leave, so Mal settles into the pilot seat and waits. After almost thirty minutes of silence, Jayne begins to speak so quietly that Mal has to strain to hear. “Said it was s’posed to be an easy job, an’ all I had to do was shoot at folk an’ look mean sometimes. Easy credits.”
He falls silent once more, for a longer span this time. “Captain weren’t too big; I’d always reckoned I could roll him easier’n easy, if’n it came to it. After our fifth job, he was ‘bout half-lit like he got sometimes…” Jayne shakes himself suddenly and heaves up from his seat. “I gotta go.”
Mal watches him leave, not saying a word to stop him even though he knows that if Jayne doesn’t confide in him now, he never will. The captain spends half the watch thinking about the other man and what he could grow to feel for him, and the other half thinking about Inara and what he shouldn’t feel for her. When the time comes to wake Zoë for her turn on the bridge, he’s made up his mind and walks slowly over to Jayne’s bunk hatch, knocking softly. There’s always the chance that the gunhand has already fallen asleep but tonight, Mal doesn’t think so.
_ _ _ _ _
Indeed, Jayne is still wide awake and trying to draw what little comfort can be had from inspecting his armory and touching every weapon inside the bunk in turn as if to reassure himself that the dead are still buried and he has nothing to worry about. The rap of Mal’s knuckles against the metal of the hatch doesn’t really come as a surprise, since he’s been thinking of all he’s confided and all that he hasn’t. Jayne stares up at the door for long seconds before something makes him move to the ladder and unsheathe his knife, tapping on the metal and giving tacit permission for Mal to enter.
The captain pushes the hatch open and climbs down slowly, slower than he’s been doing a lot of things lately. Neither of them says a word when Mal’s boots finally touch the bunk’s floor, and Jayne watches as Mal disarms. Only after the captain’s pistol rests on the small crate that Jayne occasionally uses as a table does he look up into Jayne’s eyes. “I ain’t down here to cause you trouble.”
Jayne sucks in a shuddering breath, finally allowing himself to recognize the look on the other man’s face for what it is, and always has been. “I…I reckon I know that.” And he does, looking back into his captain’s eyes and seeing the solace that Mal offers. He guesses he’s always known that he’s had no cause to worry about a repeat of his last ship assignment, not with Mal, and Jayne’s had a long, lonely time without companionship in any sense of the word. “It’s just…”
He has to fight not to jerk away when Mal reaches for his hand slowly, fingertips ghosting over his until the captain’s hand cradles Jayne’s much larger one. Then Mal looks up at him with those eyes that are full - too full - of understanding and says the one thing he can hardly bear to hear. “You get too uncomfortable with any of this, you tell me an’ I’ll stop faster than fast, dong ma?”
Unwanted tears sting the backs of Jayne’s eyes as he nods, turning his face away to burrow it into his other shoulder as his hand is lifted higher and a tender kiss is placed in the middle of his palm. Mal’s voice murmurs a soft counterpoint to his own harsh breathing, reassuring him of a worth he’s long since stopped believing in. When every inch of the skin on his hand has been touched by Mal’s lips, the captain moves higher to bestow the same treatment on his forearm before traveling upwards to his bicep. Jayne’s eyes are shut so tightly that it’s almost a miracle that any tears could ever escape… but they do, silently sliding down his cheek to dampen his shadow beard and goatee. One of Mal’s hands settle on his hip with terrifying abruptness and he feels panic start to flutter in his chest. “S-stop,” Jayne stammers out, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
The captain halts immediately, drawing back as promised, and Jayne realizes that he hadn’t really believed that he would. It’s difficult to lift his face from his shoulder and turn his head to look at Mal, but he does it. Jayne’s not even sure what to say, but it seems as if no words are needed when the other man meets his eyes; Mal stretches out a hand and traces the line of the tears on his face with a gentle touch before moving closer and resting his palms on Jayne’s thighs. “I ain’t him, Jayne. Could never be.”
Jayne’s throat threatens to close over the words he tries to force out as the captain slides even closer. “I know it, Mal.”
“Gotta ask you to do somethin’ for me, an’ I know it’ll be hard for you… but I need you to trust me. Wo bi bu ceng shi shou shang ni. Can you see your way clear to doin’ that?”
More tears well in his eyes, and he blinks them away. “Wo bi shi.”
“That’s all I ask.” Mal leans forward to brush his lips against Jayne’s and the big mercenary feels as if the captain has knocked the wind from his lungs with something much heavier than this feather-light kiss.
Their mouths meet once more and the kiss is still tentative, though measurably more intense – another kiss sets tremors throughout Jayne’s large frame and without even being aware of it, he slides back against the wall and takes Mal with him. Soon both men are nearly horizontal on the narrow bed, mouths searching and tongues twining as eagerly as Jayne’s sense of caution will allow. There are several moments in which Jayne has to push Mal away because of the claustrophobia that closes in on him, but Mal lets him catch his breath and waits for him to become calm once more before continuing.
Bit by bit, Jayne allows Mal to slide his shirt off and he tilts his head back at the feel of Mal’s tongue running over his collarbone. “Ni meí shì bà?”
“Wo shi hao,” Jayne gasps as the captain’s teeth gently bite down on his shoulder before his mouth slowly moves lower. He’s trembling, trying so hard not to fall apart that the strain nearly hurts him when Mal’s tongue rasps over a nipple. Every kiss, caress, lick… each gentle touch frees something within him, eases the pain inside just a little more, and slowly unwinds the poisonous, strangling hurt from around his soul. When the other man touches his belt and looks up for permission, tears threaten yet again. This time, Jayne lets them fall.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Mal pays homage to every stretch of Jayne’s skin he touches, only breaking away to shuck his own clothing lest the other man get the wrong idea of who’s really in charge. Mal tells Jayne with every kiss that he has the power to say no, and his heart swells with emotion when he finally realizes that the big man has indeed given himself over to trust. He works Jayne’s belt loose and opens the faded cargo pants, settling his knees between the merc’s bare feet and leaning forward to place a kiss directly above the thicket of dark hair that curls around the base of Jayne’s zhi li jiba.
A glance upward shows that Jayne’s eyes have drifted closed once more, though tears leak from beneath his long eyelashes steadily and slide down the mercenary’s handsome face. Mal can still taste the salty tang of them from when they kissed just moments earlier.
He slides the pants off of Jayne’s narrow hips slowly, taking in the sight of the big gunhand sprawled across the bed, gloriously nude. Running his palms up and down the muscled thighs, he waits until the blue eyes open and look at him before taking Jayne in his hand. “Ni shi na me zhuang li,” Mal sighs. Jayne makes a strangled sound as the captain leans forward once more and licks the straining diao before him in slow, lazy flicks of his tongue before drawing the crown of Jayne’s cock into his mouth to suck gently. “Ai ya, ni shi ke kou…”
Mal wraps one hand around the base of the other man’s shaft, pumping slowly while the other comes up to cup Jayne’s balls – they’ve drawn up high and tight against his body, a clear indication that the merc won’t last that long… that’s fine with Mal. He’s not here for his own pleasure; Jayne is the only one that matters tonight. Anyway, the feel of Jayne filling his mouth and the scent of him filling Mal’s senses is pleasure enough. Of course, it doesn’t hurt matters any to hear the big man’s uneven groans of pleasure and harsh pants filling the air above him. Kneading Jayne’s gao wan with one hand, he spits into the other and slicks up the thick, swollen cock, pumping while urging Jayne to the edge of the bed.
He can feel the tension returning to the big man’s body even as Jayne obeys, and Mal knows that the rest of the scars on Jayne’s soul will have to wait a bit before they can be healed – he’s not ready for proper lovemaking yet, but Mal intends to drive him so wild with pleasure so that when he is ready, he’ll ask Mal to fuck him. But for now, there’s something Mal needs to do to reassure Jayne that much more. Lifting Jayne’s heavy balls in one hand, he leans forward and runs his tongue across the merc’s puckered opening. Jayne gasps in shock and surprised pleasure at this unexpected sexual overture, so Mal continues his sensual assault upon the big man until Jayne is writhing and swearing in a steadily rising tone. “Gorrammit, Mal…!”
Mal moves up to suck Jayne’s cock back into his mouth, savoring the musky scent filling his nostrils and bobbing up and down while the merc’s long fingers tangle in his hair and urge him on. The appreciative grunts and moans get even louder and more urgent as Jayne nears his release until he comes undone completely with one hard suck. The thick, salty-sour fluid of Jayne’s ejaculate floods Mal’s mouth and he tips his head back to swallow after he draws the last shudders from the other man’s body.
Kissing his way back up Jayne’s sweat-drenched body, he’s immensely gratified when the merc pulls him close and eases both of them down on the mattress. Something tells him not to speak, and he’s rewarded when Jayne rolls onto his side to face him, settling a big hand on his bare hip. The tracks of tears are dry now, though his long eyelashes are still slightly damp – the sight endears him to Mal more than any words ever could. “'M sorry ‘bout drawin’ on ya when...y’know, with th’ inculation?”
Serenity’s captain just smiles, reaching over to trace the line of Jayne’s goatee lightly. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. You don’t wanna speak on it, that’s your choice. I ain’t a man for taking away freedoms, dong ma?”
For a wonder, Jayne smiles back and the sight is like the sun rising after a particularly dark night. “Wo dong. But I’m thinkin’, I gotta speak on it afore I get some peace from it.” He waits and Mal nods in response, pillowing his head on an arm as he settles into a more comfortable position, his hand still stroking Jayne’s skin slowly. His merc’s hand is warm and solid on his hip as he pauses, then begins to speak. “Captain afore Marco – you remember Marco, right? Yeah, thought so…anyways, he – he liked nothin’ better’n to hurt folk an’ always seemed to know just where to get ‘em.”
“Sounds like he sorely needed a bullet in the brain pan like most folk need air.”
“Yeah, ain’t a man in the ‘verse who needed it more, if’n you catch my meaning… we got along just fine ‘til this one job when we was s’posed to get some time off to catch some trim. Well, seems he had an eye for the same whore I did an’ when she chose me to sex her first, sishengzi didn’t take it real well. Heard later that he sliced her face up good when she smiled at him an’ he reckoned she was makin’ fun. She didn’t mean nothin’ by it, she was real sweet.” Jayne trails off, a distant look in his eyes. “He got all liquored up an’ got one o’ them tran…trank…them shots that make ya sleep. Put it in my neck afore I even knew he was behind me, but musta messed with the dose so I just couldn’t move… next thing I knew, he…he… Hell, I whore ‘round much as the next man, an’ sometimes go for m’own kind if’n I feel like it, but I ain’t never taken no one who weren’t willin’ to have me. He kept me tranked up good after that so I wouldn’t take revenge when he weren’t lookin’…wasn’t for lack of wantin’ it, but it’s mightily hard when you’re so gorram sick ya can’t even crawl.”
Jayne shivers and Mal tugs a blanket up over him, still stroking the other man’s skin and biting back the outrage that fills him. “Tell me you killed him.”
“Soon’s I got most of that gos se outta my system, yeah. Gan ni niang was the sweetest kill I ever made.” Jayne’s eyes focus on Mal’s suddenly. “Been a long while.”
Mal scoots closer until they’re nearly nose to nose. “I get that.”
“Ya don’t…don’t think no less a’ me ‘cause…?”
Brushing another kiss over his merc’s lips, Mal smiles. “Course not.”
Reaching up to punch the control for the lights, Jayne’s arms slide around him and Mal settles against the other man’s warm bulk. “I ain’t ready for much yet, not like ya want.”
“Good thing I’m a patient man, then.” The only answer to this statement is the rumble of laughter reverberating through Jayne’s chest before both men settle their limbs around each other’s in an effort to get comfortable.
Mal doesn’t have to see Jayne’s face to know that the other man drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face, the mirror of his own.