Work Header


Work Text:

"Hey, Doc," Jayne said as he breezed into the infirmary.

Simon looked up from the delicate task of honing a scalpel, then did a double take. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded as Jayne opened up a cupboard and began rummaging through. "Stop it!" Simon dropped the scalpel and dashed to the counter.

"I know I saw some in here," Jayne muttered, paying no attention whatsoever to Simon. He began pulling things out of the cabinet and tossing them on the counter. "Oh yeah. Here we go." He pulled a bottle from the back of the shelf.

Simon saved some bandages from hitting the floor. "Some of this stuff is sterile, Jayne," he said as the box crumpled in his hand.

"Guess not any more," Jayne said cheerfully.

"Give me that." Simon snatched the bottle out of Jayne's hand. "Put that stuff away."

"Fine, fine," Jayne said. He scooped up the items he'd thrown to the counter and shoved them back into the cabinet willy-nilly.

Simon shut his eyes briefly in frustration. Jayne drove him insane. He'd just finished alphabetizing that section. "You know, lives could be at stake," he said, although he didn't have much hope any argument he made could make a dent.

Jayne pushed some more supplies in. "Yeah, lives are at stake and it all depends on you getting to these cotton balls quick enough." He grabbed a cotton ball and wiggled it at Simon. "Save me, Doctor Tam!" he said in a squeaky voice. "No—wait—it's too laaaaate! Aaaaah!"

Simon watched the cotton ball, now dead, fall to the ground. Jayne wiped his hands together, damage done, and shut the cabinet.

"And here I was hoping for some peace and quiet," Simon said. Mal was meeting with some bigwig down on the planet, and everyone had elected to go planetside, some on business, like Mal and Inara, but most everyone else was out for fun. Kaylee had volunteered to go shopping with River, thus giving Simon some much-needed time alone. "I thought you were down visiting that marketplace everyone was so keen to see."

Jayne whipped a knife out. Simon hadn't noticed the holster at his belt. "Just got back," he said. He held the knife in front of him and rotated it slowly. It was very large.

Simon raised his hands. "Okay," he said, edging back. Something that looked like dried blood was on the blade and handle. He had sudden visions of Jayne eviscerating someone in an alley, then taking the show on the road. "Let's—let's, um, talk about this."

"Isn't she a beauty?" Jayne enthused. "I got her in this weapons shop, cheap."

Simon put his hands down. It looked like Jayne wasn't going to kill him after all. Sometimes he thought it was only a matter of time.

"I think it's because it's in bad shape," Jayne continued. "See? It's got blood all over it. And some rust. Plus it's dull."

"And you're in my infirmary because—?" Simon prompted.

Jayne took the bottle back. "This stuff should clean the blood right off," he said, shaking it. "Then I can sharpen it." He pointed at the no longer sterile bandages. "You using those?" Without waiting for an answer, he unrolled a bandage and began dousing it with the liquid.

"No," Simon said after a few seconds. "Thanks for asking, though."

Jayne just grunted, then moved over to the sink and began wiping down the knife. Simon watched him for a few seconds. Pink liquid dripped from the knife.

"How do you know it wasn't used to kill someone and you just purchased a murder weapon?" Simon asked.

Jayne looked up. "Huh," he said. "Never thought of that."

"It would be just our luck," Simon said gloomily. "I can test the blood and see if it's human, though, if you've got any on there that's still unadulterated by the cleaner."

Jayne considered for a moment, then nodded. "Guess you'd better."

Simon indicated the counter. "Put it there. It'll just take a second."

Jayne set the dripping knife down. Simon found the cotton swabs, no thanks to Jayne's unorthodox rearrangement of his supply cabinet, and wet the head of one with some liquid from a small bottle. He applied it to a bit of dried blood that had splattered onto the handle. He held up the swab. As he watched, it turned blue. He tried again on a different spot, with the same result.

"Oh, thank god," Simon said. "It's not human."

"It's a hunting knife," Jayne pointed out.

"Some people hunt humans." Simon threw away the cotton swabs and leaned over the knife. "Actually, this is kind of pretty," he said. It was, despite the rust spots. He pointed at some detailing on the blade. "Is that engraving?"

"Yeah," Jayne said. "It came with a matching leather sheath. See?"

"Very nice," Simon said.

"But what about yours?" Jayne asked, gesturing at Simon's scalpels. "Those little knives."

"Scalpels," Simon said. Jayne picked one up. "I got a set from my father as a gift when I graduated from medical school. High-test titanium alloy. They'll last generations with proper care."

Jayne hefted it. "Wouldn't do you much good in a fight," he opined. He swished it through the air a few times, as though fencing. "Too damn little."

"They're for surgery. Fine, precise cuts."

"You're sharpening it?"

"Yes. That's a microsharpener."

"Would that work on my knife?" Jayne asked.

"I don't see why not. Let's give it a try."

Jayne took the knife back to the sink and finished washing the blood off. He dried it and joined Simon at the bed where he had laid out his supplies. "This one is old," he told Simon as Simon reset the microsharpener. "The guy at the weapons shop said it was as old as Earth-that-was."

"Did you believe him?"


"Why not?"

"Size, mostly." Jayne touched the blade. "A knife that old, you'd think the blade would be smaller from all the sharpening, thin on the edges, but it's not."

"I have to hand it to you, Jayne," Simon said, setting down the microsharpener. "You know your knives."

"Thanks," Jayne said, sounding pleased.

"Okay, give it a try."

Jayne slid the base of the knife's blade into the sharpener and pulled it toward him slowly, then repeated the action a few more times before testing it with his thumb. He looked at the thin line of blood welling up and said, "That's about right."

"Do you want me to bandage that?" Simon asked.

"No, I'm good." Jayne licked his finger. "See? It's stopped already."

Simon inspected Jayne's thumb. It had indeed stopped bleeding. The cut was very shallow; it barely broke the skin. "You'll live," he said. "It's a good thing I don't need any sterile cotton balls. You'd be dead for sure, otherwise."

Jayne closed his hand around Simon's. "That sharpener works real good," he said. "I got some other knives that could use some honing."

"I'd prefer it stay in the infirmary," Simon said. "You can bring your knives up here, though." He intertwined his fingers with Jayne's. "Are you heading back out?" he asked.

"Depends," Jayne said. "Where's that crazy sister of yours?"

"She and Kaylee have gone shopping. Kaylee said they'd be back after dinner."

"So everyone's gone," Jayne said, stepping close.

"Looks like," Simon agreed.

"Just you and me?"

"Looks like." Simon let Jayne tug him closer. "But I must say I'm surprised you're here. Why aren't you making new friends on the planet?"

Jayne often made new friends when they visited planets, usually tall, beautiful women. If he couldn't find someone willing, he'd hire somebody. It didn't really bother Simon, because after all, he and Jayne had a kind of understanding. Simon got to obsess over Kaylee, and Jayne got to fuck whomever he wanted. It wasn't like they had a relationship or anything. He knew Jayne saw it as a lot of fun, nothing else. If Simon slept with someone else, he knew Jayne wouldn't care. If Simon ever managed to say the right thing to Kaylee—which, Simon had to admit, didn't look likely in the near future—and something happened there, Jayne would wish him luck and move on, no questions asked and no jealous rages. It kind of bothered Simon that Jayne could be so cavalier about it. But now, as he surveyed Jayne, he knew he shouldn't be surprised. Jayne really didn't worry about what was appropriate or inappropriate. There was a kind of freedom in that.

"Mm, I was thinking maybe I would, but the whorehouse don't open till dinnertime," Jayne said. He leaned down and kissed Simon, a nice, lingering kiss with just a hint of tongue.

"Darn," said Simon. "How inconvenient."

"But then I got to thinking." Jayne combed his fingers through Simon's hair. "Whores know how to show you a good time and all, but then I thought about that noise you make, and I figured I'd come back and make you make it."

"Noise?" Simon asked. "What noise?"

Jayne leaned in. "Right before you come." His voice was very soft. "You make this little noise, like it feels real good, like you can't take no more, like you got to come or—I don't know. Something'll happen."

Simon stared into Jayne's eyes. Jayne squeezed him a little bit, like just thinking about it made him want Simon, and Simon felt warmth rise in his stomach. "I didn't know I did that," Simon said.

"Oh, yeah," Jayne breathed. "When you make that noise, I don't dare stop. It goes right through me. Like a knife."

The next kiss was a lot longer. Simon could feel Jayne's interest turn into arousal, and when Jayne got hard, Simon got hard. Jayne pulled back and smiled down at Simon, and Simon had to smile back. He had to admit he liked the way Jayne looked: tall, with a handsome face and a nice body, coupled with an air that could be, like right now, downright predatory. Simon undid Jayne's pants and slid his hands down. He kneaded Jayne's ass and rubbed his own cock against Jayne's bulge, leaning against Jayne's solid body. When he hit it just right, he felt a little flash of pleasure through his cock. Jayne captured his mouth again, and Simon used his mouth to tell Jayne how good it felt: deep, tonguing kisses alternating with soft nips on Jayne's lower lip. He kept it up until Jayne wouldn't let him stop, following Simon's mouth wherever it went.

"I'll be right back," Simon said, pulling back. Jayne, gasping a little, took off his T-shirt as Simon got condoms and lube from a drawer. "Where do you want to go?"

"Go?" Jayne said. "Right here is good. No one's around," he reminded Simon when Simon hesitated.

"I know," Simon said. "It just feels—odd. And what if someone comes back?"

"Then I guess they got themselves a little show," Jayne said. He backed Simon against the bed and began unbuttoning Simon's vest. "Or we can tell them we're just comparing knives."

"Knives," Simon repeated, pushing Jayne's pants down so he could take Jayne's cock in his hand.

"Knives," Jayne agreed, switching to Simon's trousers. His touch on Simon's cock was firm, sending a shiver through Simon. "See? I got a big knife."

"You do," Simon agreed, running his hand along Jayne's rod. "It's really big."

"Yours is smaller," Jayne said critically.

"But precise," Simon said, smiling at the ridiculousness of it. "Controlled. If you know how to use it."



"And you know how to use it?"

Simon released Jayne so he could grab the condoms. "I'm a surgeon," he said. "So yes, I know how to use it." He grabbed Jayne's hips and swung him around so Jayne, not Simon, was against the bed. "And you know it isn't size that counts. It's skill." He ripped a wrapped condom off the strip and held it up.

"Oh, yeah, skill." Jayne took the condom, unwrapped it, and unrolled it along Simon's cock. "Where's mine?"

"You don't get one," Simon said, tossing the strip on the bed. He dipped his head and kissed Jayne's collarbone. "Not today." He loved Jayne's body—the prickle of hair, the taste. He loved the way Jayne moved and breathed. "Here."

Lube was next. He spread it on his and Jayne's hands. Jayne began stroking Simon's cock, sending waves of pleasure through him. Simon pushed Jayne's pants a little further down and ran his finger along Jayne's crack. Jayne shifted his weight and lifted a leg slightly to give him access. Simon felt for the rubbery ring of Jayne's anus and toyed with it, brushing it with his fingertips. Jayne's breathing hitched, and his hand tightened around Simon's cock. Jayne's fist moved up, squeezing, and when it closed around the head of Simon's cock, Simon felt heat rush into his balls. He sank his slick middle finger inside Jayne, and Jayne stiffened, then immediately relaxed. Simon began stroking, gently at first, then more aggressively as Jayne began handling Simon more aggressively. Simon managed to lower his head to Jayne's chest. He rubbed his cheek against Jayne's skin, inhaling the clean, masculine scent, and found Jayne's nipple with his tongue. His tongue rasped against the prickly chest hairs, and Jayne's nipple perked up immediately. He stroked Jayne's ass as he sucked Jayne's tit, rubbing his own body against Jayne's, feeling Jayne's hand jerking him off.

"Oh," Jayne said. He swore in Chinese. "Take off your damn shirt."

Jayne grabbed it, and Simon was forced to release Jayne and step back. Jayne didn't bother with the buttons. He just pulled it apart. Buttons popped off, and the shirt ripped. When he'd bared Simon's chest, he grabbed Simon and kissed him, hard, before trailing his mouth down Simon's neck. He buried his face in Simon's armpit, pushing the shirt aside, moaning a little as he kissed and licked. Simon's whole body felt open and sensitized as Jayne touched him. Jayne's goatee prickled along Simon's skin, but a second later, his mouth would soothe it.

"I'm ready," Simon said, turning Jayne.

Jayne bent over the bed, and Simon stroked along Jayne's cleft with his sheathed, lubed cock. He found Jayne's opening with his fingers and pressed his cock against it. Jayne's body resisted, even as he made a sound of anticipation. Simon felt the tip of his cock enter Jayne. A rush hit him as Jayne's asshole squeezed his penis just below the head, and then Jayne's body opened to him. A second later, he was fully sheathed. Simon's cock throbbed in the tight warmth. Jayne pushed back as Simon pushed forward, and they held it there for a long few seconds, enjoying the sensation, until Simon began to rock.

He had a flash of what someone, maybe Mal, would see if he came in: two men fucking, trousers around their ankles, one embedded in the other, so hot that they were oblivious to what was going on around them. Mal would hear low, throaty groans—Simon's groans—as he thrust, fingers digging into Jayne's hips, and he'd hear Jayne panting as Jayne began to jack himself off. He'd watch as the movements grew faster, more frenzied, as they approached crisis.

Simon felt Jayne's sweaty body tighten under him. "Simon," Jayne gasped in warning, and a second later, he shot come over the bed, spattering the knives. Simon made his thrusts deeper, riding Jayne through it, luxuriating in the sensation of no longer having to hold back. His balls tightened, and he became aware that he was making little noises of need, not quite the groans he'd been making before. They were the noises of someone in extremity, someone who was experiencing so much pleasure that he was about to break. Jayne's ass tightened, and it was just right. It pushed him over the edge. He knocked hard against Jayne and held himself deep inside as he came with a roar of blood in his ears, his cock leaping again and again inside Jayne's tight warmth.

It went on for a long time—sheer, unadulterated ecstasy emanating from his cock. He finally collapsed against Jayne's strong body, utterly spent. Jayne easily bore the weight, leaning into the bed. Simon stroked Jayne's back, feeling the thick cords of muscle covered by soft skin, as he panted. After a minute or two, he pulled himself out and took off the condom. He tossed it next to the knives. Jayne turned around, pulled his pants mostly up, and settled himself onto the bed, grimacing a little. He drew Simon between his legs.

"That was real nice," Jayne said. "You made that noise."

"Mmm," Simon agreed as he kissed Jayne. For some reason, watching Jayne spurt over the knives had been a real turn-on—and oddly appropriate. The doctor in him wouldn't let him fuck without condoms. Maybe that was why he had found the whole thing so exciting: he'd been able to see a tangible result of what they did together. "My room?" He was in the mood to lie in bed with Jayne, nude, chest to chest, not speaking, just existing in a trancelike postorgasm state.

"In a minute," Jayne said. "We should clean the knives first. All the knives." He indicated Simon's cock.

"Your knife has gotten…smaller," Simon observed.

"It ain't size that counts. It's skill. Like you said before." Jayne plucked at a button hanging from a thread on Simon's shirt. "When you fuck me," he said to Simon's chest. "It's like a knife, right through me." He looked up as his hand slid under Simon's shirt.

Simon nodded. "Yes. There's a little—organ, I guess, deep inside you that's sensitive. I touch it when I'm inside you."

"That's what it is?" Jayne said, sounding dubious.

"I can show you pictures if you want."

"Of men fucking?"

Simon laughed. "Of the prostate and its relationship to your anus and penis."

"I'd rather see pictures of men fucking."

"Yeah, I guess I would too," Simon agreed. "Come on." He tugged Jayne off the bed and loosened the fabric cover. He shook it gently, tumbling the come-spattered knife, scalpels, and sharpener into the middle of it, and picked it up like a bag. He pulled his pants up so he could walk. "My room?" He held the bag up. "We'll bring this with us." He started for the door. "I know you probably want to head back down the planet. Just stay as long as you want."

"I don't know that I'll go back down today," Jayne said, following him. "Not if you're going to make that noise some more. Not if we're going to play with knives."

"Absolutely we're going to play with knives," Simon said. Everyone was gone. They had unprecedented freedom, and Simon intended to use it. He could alphabetize things anytime. "And I don't know about the noise. I guess you'll have to make me make it."

"Good," Jayne said.