Penance

DISCLAIMER: Everything recognizable belongs to Joss Whedon, Twentieth Century Fox, and any number of giant corporate conglomerates that lay claim to all that is FIREFLY. Good for them. I just like to screw about with the boys.

Takes place after the episode “Ariel”...

I've used some of the futuristic and Chinese slang from the series in the story.

Written on and for the “Bring Back the Porn” thingo on IJ and LJ, September 1, 2007.

Thanks to the fabulous Thevina for the nearly instant beta!


~~~~ PENANCE ~~~


“Cap'n's lookin' for ya, Jayne.”

Kaylee tosses her head as she passes him in the narrow corridor, and she's smiling so wide that at the moment, Jayne wants nothing more than to wipe it off her face. With his fist.

“Yeah, I know. Where I'm headin' right now.”

“He didn't look very happy.”

Jayne stops dead in his tracks and turns to face her. “Really.”

“Really. Whatever you mucked up on Aegis Prime's got Mal's panties in a wad. Big time. Ain't seen him this worked up in a long while.”

He glares at her with what he believes is his most menacing stare. It doesn't work

She scrunches up her nose in response, and he feels the flush rise out of the collar of his t-shirt and climb right up his neck.

Doesn't anything go his way anymore? Apparently not.

His recent fuck-up on Aegis isn't the half of it.

Mal hasn't forgotten about his attempted sell-out on Ariel. Not by a long shot. The only shiny is that Mal's kept his word and hasn't told anyone about his double-cross, but he's not sure which is worse: everyone knowing he's a traitorous bastard, or Mal holding it over his head day in and day out.

It's been nearly a month since Ariel City, and things haven't gotten any better between him and the Captain. After Aegis, they've definitely gotten worse. Straight down the crapper kind of worse. He goes for broke, adding a bit of a lip curl for good measure as he formulates a hopefully scathing reply.

“Shut up.”

Kaylee rolls her eyes and seems about to say something but looks past his shoulder instead.

“My crew is me," someone says from behind him.

Jayne whirls around as River shambles past, trailing a finger across his bare upper arm.

“What the hell?”

River stares blankly at him for a long moment, and the ever-present thrum of Serenity's engine seems louder than all get out.

“You're late,” River mumbles as Kaylee moves to stand next to her.

“Psychotic bitch,” Jayne replies, earning a frown from Kaylee.

“Hey! Don't talk to her that way!”

"Have a blast you two,” he says, turning on his heel and striding down the corridor. He can almost feel their stares boring into his back as he goes. Dumb broads. He has no use for them in general, or either of them in particular, although Kaylee is too damn good of an Engineer to space out of hand.

But the Tam bitch...he wouldn't bat an eye slitting her skinny throat, and he'd sleep like a baby that same night, too. She's a liability, and why Mal doesn't see it, doesn't feel it, is a complete and total mystery. She and her pansy, holier-than-thou assface of a brother are gonna get them all killed, and when that finally happens, he'll have the last laugh.

He steps into the cargo bay, at once on alert as only the bare minimum of lighting has been left on. His right hand instinctively goes to his hip, where his holster should be, but of course his gun ain't there. Another stupid new rule thanks to the Tam bitch: no weapons while on the boat. Too much of a risk that the psycho broad might grab it and shoot a hole in someone, or worse, the hull.

He rubs at his chest, his barely healed knife wound still more than a bit tender. “Gorram bitch,” he mutters, glancing warily around, searching and scanning every corner, every shadow. He moves to the center of the bay and waits, his fists on his hips.

Hell, he can at least look like he isn't nervous.

It's the fourth time Mal's pulled this crap in as many weeks, and for the most part, Jayne can handle it. He's been around, but he's not sly; it really just doesn't matter where he sticks his dick. He's pretty equal opportunity when it comes to that.

But this is much more than just getting off or a drunken fuck in some skanky bar's restroom. He's not drunk, and he doesn't have a choice, but that's not it, either. He's paying the price for Ariel, and he knows that Mal wants to make sure the message is crystal clear.

Like it hadn't been when Mal tried to space him.

“C'mon, c'mon.”

He waits for a minute or two, and it's clear that no one else is in the bay. A soft scraping and a tiny metallic thud echo from above, and he moves toward the metal stairway on his right. He takes the steps two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest.

What's really scary is how crazy Mal's been acting, real fong luh for sure. Jayne's always thought that their captain's a bit more loosely wound than most, but lately, he's been so unpredictable that everyone has noticed. Sure, being gut-shot and nearly dying can have an effect on someone, but it also don't mean you have to act like you're ready to to be carted off to the nearest Alliance bughouse.

He tops the stairs and moves along the darkened catwalk. The door to the portside shuttle is wide open, and Jayne snorts in spite of himself.

“Nice choice,” he mumbles as he ducks down and steps inside.

It's no surprise at all that none of the overheads are on, the only lights coming from the multi-colored stand-by indicators on various consoles in the cockpit area. The starfield moves slowly by the viewport, and Jayne shakes his head. If things were different, it'd be sort of cool playing games like this, but it's not cool, only creepy. He steps carefully, his eyes still not adjusted to the near total blackness inside the shuttle.

He nearly trips over something that shouldn't be sitting in the middle of the gorram floor.

“Aiya!”

“I love it when you talk sweet like that.”

Jayne tenses at the sound of Mal's voice, and a second later he feels what has to be the muzzle of a gun pressing into the back of his neck.

“Didn't think we're here to shoot the shit. Or me, either.”

Mal jabs the gun into him a few times. Hard.

“Sometimes you can be incredibly perceptive, Jayne.”

He feels the gun pull away, and a second later, the hatch to the shuttle clanks shut.

“You don't need no gun. I'll do what you want.”

“I know you will, 'cause if you don't, well--” Mal's voice trails off, and again the only sounds are from Serenity herself.

Jayne turns around just as some of the overheads turn on, very low, grey mode almost.

Yeah, he knows exactly what Mal's implied threat means. He's gotta play the little game as long as it lasts, or he'll find himself spaced or worse. There's no way he can keep his guard up all day, every day.

Mal's leaning against a support column, his suspenders down and his shirt un-tucked and un-buttoned. The muzzle of his gun's resting on his chin, and he's got that look about him, the new freaky ass one that clearly says that he ain't in the mood to be messed with.

“You don't need the gun,” Jayne says again, a little pissed at how his voice breaks just a little. He hates it when it does that.

Mal smiles. And not friendly, like. “I don't, do I?” He gestures vaguely with the gun. “You got too much on.” He reaches over and grabs a bottle of Aegean whiskey from a nearby console, taking a few hefty swallows of it.

Jayne nods as he grabs the neck of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. He twirls it around his index finger, slinging it to land at Mal's feet.

Mal smirks, takes another slug of whiskey, and sets both the bottle and his gun on the console. He shrugs out of his own shirt, letting it fall to the deck.

Jayne draws himself up, planting both hands on his hips as Mal advances toward him. He can make out the outline of Mal's hard dick in his trousers. And he can feel a pressure in his own pants, and sure as shit, he's getting hard, too. His hand unconsciously trails down to his growing bulge, and Mal smirks again.

“Glad to see you're finally gettin' with the program."

Jayne stands his ground as Mal's gaze drifts downward, and it's kinda cool the expression Mal has on his face as he stares at him, taking him in from crotch to chest and back again.

He knows he's pretty gorram good looking, so it only makes sense that some other men would be into him. He's just never pegged Mal as being sly, but after four sessions, Jayne's pretty sure Mal's been with more than a few guys. Hell, it ain't like it's rocket science or anything. It's all about gettin' off, and the more that he thinks about it, most of the chicks he's been with hadn't had a clue. Always all about makin' them happy, satisfyin' them, foreplay and flowers and kittens and to hell with anything else.

Another guy...well, they just know...

He jumps a bit as Mal's fingers touch his chest, tracing the still-red line of his latest scar. "Shit."

"Jumpy?"

"Nah. Just thinkin'."

"Don't. Doesn't suit you."

Before he can muster up a reply, Mal grabs his bare shoulders.

Jayne knows what that means; their sessions always start out this way. He drops to his knees, the decking thrumming the slightest bit as Mal steps closer, and he stares at the front of Mal's bulging trousers. Aiya, but the guy's big, all over. You just don't notice it until the clothes come off.

His own dick's at full attention now, and as Mal unbuckles his trousers and un-zips, Jayne's right hand drifts down and palms himself through his pants.

Mal shoves his trousers and skivvies down past his hips, his thick, hard cock flopping forward. "Get to it," he orders, his voice low and heavy.

Jayne leans in a bit and Mal wraps the fingers of a big hand around the back of Jayne's head, jerking him forward. He nearly loses his balance, grasping Mal's hips to for support. He tries not to struggle as Mal's dick slides over his lips and cheek.

"C'mon, take it. Take it."

Jayne reaches up to wrap his fingers around the base of Mal's cock, angling it downward. He strokes it a few times, slowly, Mal's shuddering breaths all the encouragement he needs to hear. His fingers slide upward once more, and he slowly pulls back Mal's foreskin, darting his tongue out to lick at the swollen head of Mal's dick.

Fingers tighten on the back of his head as he takes Mal's cock into his mouth. He sucks on it forcefully, nearly gagging as Mal unexpectedly thrusts forward, pressing his entire length inside. Jayne doesn't miss a beat though, pulling back just enough to suck in a short breath.

Then Mal presses forward again, and he tries to get some kind of rhythm going, but Mal's moving his hips in and out without any pattern, and Jayne can't match up.

He digs his fingers into the flesh of Mal's firm ass, and he exerts the slightest pressure, hoping Mal will get the hint. He gags again as the head of Mal's dick slams against the back of his throat. He exerts more pressure on Mal's hips, slowly pushing them back and then forward. He repeats this a few times, and Mal gets it, slowing his thrusts somewhat and loosening the death grip on the back of his head.

Jayne groans with relief as he can finally get to work, swirling his tongue all around Mal's cock. He's careful with his teeth anymore, as the first time he sucked Mal off he'd left marks. Now, he's found that if he drags them along the underside of Mal's dick every other thrust or so, it really gets things going.

He'd never imagined he'd be so good at giving blow, but it ain't exactly rocket science. He just does what he likes done to him, and a few other oddball things that he thinks should feel good. They apparently do, as now Mal's grunting and mumbling non-stop.

Jayne slips his hand down and around Mal's balls, turning them over and massaging firmly.

"Bao bay, bao bay," Mal whimpers, his thrusts becoming a bit erratic again.

Jayne groans again, pulling on Mal's sacs and sucking harder and harder with each upstroke. He starts humming, something he tried the last time, and Mal grunts and stops pumping his hips. Jayne keeps at it, humming and suckling away and Mal groans louder.

"Yeah, that's it. That's it. Ben tian sheng de yi dui rou! Biao de ma!"

Jayne can tell that Mal's close, and that's a good thing, 'cause if he can suck Mal off, then that'll be the end of it. He keeps working, grasping the shaft of Mal's cock tighter, slowly working his hand up and down the length in time with his mouth. He's got Mal right where he wants him, and he's gorram good at this, and as soon as Inara gets back from her latest job, he's gonna ask her about male companions.

He just knows he could make a stack of credits doing this.

Mal's babbling gibberish, and it won't be much longer. Jayne hums some more, playing Mal's cock like some kind of instrument. He slides his middle finger along and down the crack of Mal's ass, barely pressing it against Mal's hole.

"Biao de ma," Mal barks out, panting. He slides his dick out of Jayne's mouth and pushes him away.

Jayne keeps his balance, sitting back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Mal's standing there, his eyes wide, his exposed skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His dick's sticking straight out, all swollen and red, and his crumpled trousers are clumped around the tops of his boots. He's breathing hard, his chest heaving up and down as if he'd run a marathon.

"Get up."

Jayne does, reaching down to adjust himself. He's still hard as a rock, and his pants are pretty damn tight.

Mal pulls up his trousers, and for a split second, Jayne thinks that they're done.

"Turn around and face the bulkhead."

Wrong.

"Do it. Now."

"Sure, Mal. Whatever you say." He turns around, taking the few steps necessary to reach the wall.

Mal's hands snake around his waist, ghosting their way all over his torso and stomach. This is new; they've never touched like this before.

"Drop your pants."

There's a strange tone to Mal's voice that Jayne hasn't heard before, either. He fumbles with his belt and unfastens his pants, but before he can do it, Mal shoves them down himself.

"Don't happen to have any slick, do ya?" Jayne asks, bracing the palms of both hands on the grimy bulkhead.

"Don't worry," Mal says against the skin of his neck. "You don't need it. Big tough guy like you."

Jayne hears Mal spit, and a second later the head of Mal's cock presses against his ass. He shifts around, trying to help out, trying to get ready. It's gonna hurt...it has every time so far, and Mal's just so gorram thick anyway...

He sees stars as Mal plunges his dick into him, and he has to fight to relax, to not resist, but Mal keeps going, deeper and deeper, until Jayne thinks he's gonna burst. He remembers to breathe, sucks in a deep breath and cries out.

"Like that?" Mal whispers in his ear. "Of course you do."

Jayne's concentrating so hard he barely senses Mal's arms wrapped around him, the slicked, muscley skin of Mal's chest and stomach gliding against his back. It feels good, damn good, and when Mal starts thrusting in and out of him, slowly at first but steadily gaining speed, the discomfort quickly fades away. He spreads his legs a bit wider, and Mal grips him even tighter.

Mal's pounding into him, faster and faster, nibbling and biting at his shoulder. That feels too gorram good too, and he arches his back, reaching down to grab his lonely hard on. He strokes himself and closes his eyes, his world shrinking down to nothing but him and Mal.

Something's different this time, and whatever it is, Jayne doesn't care. There's more going on somehow, and yeah, it's still rough and they're in a going at it, standing up in a shuttle, but it feels different and Jayne's hormone-drenched brain just can't pin it down.

Whatever it is, it's good.

Mal's muttering obscenities and prayers between the bites and grunts, and Jayne finally realizes he's making a lot of noise himself. He's getting close to blowing his load, even without lube, 'cause it just feels brilliant, having Mal pressed against him and slamming into him like there's no tomorrow.

"Biao de ma," Mal groans one last time, halting his thrusts, his dick fully buried in Jayne's ass.

Jayne doesn't stop stroking his own dick as Mal fills him. He pushes against Mal, squeezing himself around Mal's spent cock.

Mal's hot, whiskey-scented breath feels good on his sweaty neck, and he's close, so close, the heat building in his belly, that dizzy, heavy feeling spiraling straight down to his balls. He pulls on his dick once more and the bottom drops out. He cries out again and his eyes fly open as he lets go, his spunk spurting through shaky fingers and spattering the bulkhead.

He's not sure, but he might have even said Mal's name when he came. He doesn't know what that means, if anything, but what does matter is that for the first time, Mal's still holding him close. It's different and unexpected, and not at all bad. Jayne presses his back against Mal's chest, no sounds but that of their breathing filling the shuttle.

For some screwed up reason, Jayne takes his hand from the bulkhead and slides it up to cover one of Mal's.

The next second, Mal pulls out and pushes away, hard enough to send Jayne crashing into the bulkhead. His forehead connects with the cold metal, and for the second time in five minutes, he sees stars.

"Shit, Mal!" He turns around slowly, which is difficult as his head's ringing and his pants are twisted around his knees. "What was that for?"

Mal stares at him for a long moment as reality crashes back in. The sounds of the ship return with a vengeance, and Jayne shivers a bit in the suddenly chilly air. His dick and right hand are coated in his own mess, while his ass feels more than a bit sore. Serenity shudders slightly, and there's a muffled but loud clanging of steel from the cargo bay.

"Kaylee needs help installing that new reclamation unit," Mal says as if they only just shared a beer.

"What?"

Mal bends down to pick up Jayne's t-shirt, but instead of tossing it to him, he uses it to wipe off his dick. He then tosses the shirt to Jayne, who catches it with one hand.

"You heard me. You got a job to do. Go do it."

Jayne watches as Mal pulls up his skivvies and trousers. "That all you got to say?"

Mal stares at him again and after a few seconds, he looks down, unable to look his Captain in the eyes. He uses his shirt to clean himself, pulling up and fastening his own pants. When he looks up, Mal's still staring, still saying nothing, and the expression on his face is that new one again.

Blank. Cold. Freaky.

"What do you want me to say, Jayne? That all's forgiven and that's that?"

"Well, I was just wonderin' what just happened--"

"Nothing," Mal says sharply, cutting him off. "Nothing at all happened here."

"Could've fooled me."

Mal picks up his shirt and shrugs into it. "You betrayed us. All of us. Most of all, me."

"Mal, man, I've said I was sorry."

"You think that makes it okay? Do you honestly believe that one word can make up for what you did?"

He swallows hard and folds his arms across his chest. "No. 'Course not. But I meant it when I said I'd make it up to you. But you're scarin' me, Mal. I don't know which end is up with you anymore. Where I stand, ya know?"

Mal smiles. "Now you're getting it."

"That ain't fair."

Mal nods as he buttons his shirt. "Fair. Well, let me tell you what fair is on my boat." He finishes with his shirt and advances on Jayne, never once lowering his gaze. "Fair is what I say it is. Fair would have been to space your traitorous ass back on Ariel. That would have been fair. So if you have a problem with the way things are now, we can always default back to that."

He shakes his head, his throat suddenly dry. "No, um, I'd kinda like to avoid the whole spacing thing if it's all the same to you. I was just wondering how long--"

"How long what? How long you're gonna be the Captain's whore? I'm kind of thinking that this is one of those long term, exclusive contracts Inara talks about. But if you've got a problem with that, I'm sure we can find a nice Reaver ship that'd be happy to have you."

Jayne's pretty sure his mouth's dropped open, but he's powerless to close it. He doesn't know what to say; he'd guessed what was going on between them, but had thought that their 'arrangement' was only temporary.

Now, though...

"And what about Inara? She know anything about this?"

"Never mind Inara," Mal snaps, his expression hardening. "She doesn't have anything to do with it." He taps his chest with a pointed finger and then gestures to Jayne. "This is between you and me. No one else."

Serenity shudders again, this time a bit more forcefully. The comm clicks, and Wash's voice fills the silence of the shuttle.

"Cap'n, you better get up here. Uncharted debris field goin' on."

Mal tucks his shirt in and slips his suspenders over his shoulders. "So, are we crystal, then?"

Jayne nods, barely aware he's doing so.

"Didn't quite catch that." Mal plants his hands on his hips and arches an eyebrow.

"I get it. I understand." He throws his arms wide, palms up. "Okay?"

"Good. Gotta go." Mal whirls around and heads for the hatch.

"Cap'n?"

"What?" Mal stops but only turns his head slightly toward Jayne.

"So you want me to stay aboard, then? 'Cause if you want me gone, if you don't need me anymore, just say so and I'm outta here the next time we're planet side. Don't wanna leave Serenity, but I don't wanna get spaced or fed to no Reavers. I don't wanna be here if I'm not welcome. So tell me which, okay? Do you want me to stay?"

Mal doesn't say anything as the ship cants sharply to port. They both manage to maintain their balance as the comm crackles again, this time Zoe.

"Captain, we really could use your assistance up here, sir. Like five minutes ago, sir."

Jayne edges closer to Mal, who's now staring at the floor. "Mal? You gonna answer me?"

Mal nods and strides to the hatch, opening it and stepping through into the cargo bay. "Kaylee needs you. Now, so get going." Without looking back, he disappears into the shadows.

As Mal's footsteps echo up from the cargo bay, Jayne follows, realizing that he's gotten his answer.


~~~ fin ~~~


A/N: Here's what the slang means:

gorram - god damn

sly - queer

fong luh - loopy in the head

bughouse - government mental institution

aiya - damn

bao bay - lover, sweetheart

Ben tian sheng de yi dui rou. - Stupid, in-bred sack of meat.

biao de ma - whore of mine