Firefly, Jayne/Simon, untouched
Let it be said that Jayne Cobb liked the ladies all right. He liked ‘em on their backs, skirts up to their armpits, callin’ out his name. He liked the control and the power and the thrusting- oh gods, yes, the thrusting. That part was always good. But what he liked most, what he craved and never got, was bein’ on the other end of that there situation. He wanted to be controlled, to be told what to do, to be fucked long and hard and without gorram mercy.
Now there were really only two men on the ship who could give him that. The captain was above him, of course, and had showed more than once he wasn’t afraid to assert his dominance if that’s what was called for. Of course, being locked in a hatch and threatened within an inch of your life wasn’t the most stimulating of positions, and there hadn’t been anything sexual about that. Jayne soon came to realize he wasn’t going to get anything from the captain. Mal wasn’t sly.
With Wash married and Book religiously celibate, that only left one man: Simon. But one was enough. *Simon* was enough.
Jayne stood outside the infirmary, looking in through one of the windows. He stood a ways back, so he could just see inside but if Simon glanced out, the man probably wouldn’t notice Jayne. Of course, even if he did, Simon wouldn’t see that Jayne had his hand down his pants.
Jayne would have liked it better if he’d been inside, strapped down to the table, with Simon hovering over him. Maybe he’d have some sort of knife or a needle or maybe he’d just be standing there with that look—that look that said he could do absolutely anything to Jayne and Jayne would have no way of stopping him.
Simon could take that pair of tiny, silver scissors and slowly cut Jayne’s shirt away. He could put clamps on Jayne’s nipples or, maybe, just run his finger around each, toying with them the way Jayne was playing with his dick just now. Simon could find some medicinal balm and rub it over Jayne’s chest, of course saving most of it for the more sensitive areas later. And Jayne— bound at the wrists and ankles—could do nothing to stop him.
The ship’s doctor would be quiet, precise, exact. He’d study the specimen, circling him in one direction and then the other, driving Jayne into a frenzy of anticipation. Jayne would try to wriggle and writhe as Simon’s fingers came close then pulled away just short of belt or skin. Jayne could use every Chinese swear word he knew and beg all he liked but the doctor was in charge.
Jayne’s cock would be hard, just like it was now. But Simon’s fingers would be soft from years of care and lack of menial labor. When they touched Jayne, the man would cry out so loudly that no one on the ship would be left in any doubt about what was happening down in the infirmary. As it was now, Jayne bit his tongue and kept his mouth closed tightly. He couldn’t help rubbing himself now to the fantasy. Best of all was Simon standing just feet away with no ruttin’ idea it was happening. The doctor was doing this to Jayne without even trying, without even touching.
But Simon was magnificent at it. Simon with those deep blue eyes and that proper, nearly-pressed shirt. As Jayne fisted his cock so fast it was a blur, he could imagine the way Simon’s body would touch his, pressing heavily in all the right places. A medic would certainly know exactly what buttons to push and when to push ‘em. He’d put something around Jayne’s dick to keep it calm and make this last until Jayne was practically crying with the desire.
He’d be desperate and Simon would insist Jayne call him ‘Doctor Tam.’ And Jayne would. By Gods he would! And he’d come magnificently, shooting in ribbons all over the sterile infirmary, instead of in his pants like he was now.
Jayne kept his eyes trained on Simon as he leaned back, banging his head against the wall and breathed in and out heavily through clenched teeth. His orgasm lasted forever, but it was still far too short. When it was over, he yanked his hand out and rubbed it against the leg of his jeans with a sigh.
And then the door opened and Simon appeared there, just a few paces away. “Jayne?” he asked.
Jayne froze for a second then curled his lip. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
Simon shook his head and headed upstairs. Janye retreated back to his bunk, walking stiffly.