Rating: MA. Warning: contains violence, dub-con, explicit slash. Jayne/Simon. If this offends you or is illegal where you are, don't read.

Simon can't sleep, and finds that Serenity's corridors aren't as quiet as they should be. This is my first Simon/Jayne story, my first dub-con story, and at some point there may well be a sequel.

Posted on LiveJournal.

Simon came to dread late nights on board Serenity. The nights when River was quiet, but he couldn't sleep. Not every night, not by a long stretch, but every once in a while he'd have the urge to leave his bunk, to walk the ship at her quietest. Barefoot, like his sister, padding silently along catwalks, through the cavern of the cargo bay, past the infirmary. Feeling like a ghost, almost as though he could melt into the ship like his sister had pretended to do.

Sometimes Simon would encounter Mal doing much the same thing, and some nights they'd end up in the galley, talking of nothing much over a cup of tea. Which was nice in a different way. But the nights Simon dreaded were the ones when Jayne was awake.

Jayne stalked the ship, feral, as though he was stalking prey. Which, Simon reflected, was pretty close to the truth. At first, when their paths crossed in the small hours of the ship's night, Jayne contented himself with shoving Simon, whether or not Simon was in his way. But the shoves got harder, bouncing Simon off bulkheads, Jayne deliberately changing direction to cross Simon's path.

And then one night, Jayne didn't push him out of the way. When Simon turned a corner, only to find Jayne waiting for him, he tensed. Jayne used his weight to slam Simon into the bulkhead and pin him there, cheek pressed to the metal, hands pushing uselessly against the unyielding hull. As Simon struggled, Jayne growled, covering the smaller man with his body, not leaving him enough room to breath. With a strangled sob, Simon felt Jayne grind his hips against Simon's rear. The hardness of the older man's erection was unmistakeable.

Jayne pinned him there for a long minute before abruptly letting go and striding away down the corridor. Simon slumped to the floor, struggling to get his breathing back under control before he could get up and run back to his bunk on trembling legs.

By day, with the lights up and everyone else around, Simon kept his distance from the merc, insulting him when he got too close. Neither of them mentioned their night-time encounters. When they were alone together, Simon would watch Jayne, a faint frown on his brow as if trying to figure out a puzzle, while Jayne ignored him. The daytime was a safe time. Only the night held a threat, and only those nights deep in the black, never those spent docked at stations or in the world.

Simon fought to stay in his bunk at night, but it seemed that on the most peaceful nights, his brain had decided he should be wide awake. Time and time again he found his feet taking him round the ship, stepping carefully, quietly, almost as gracefully as River when she walked Serenity's corridors.

The night was silent, save for the faint hum of Serenity's systems, the hiss of the air recyclers, the tick of something mechanical cooling off. Simon spent a while in the engine room watching the ship's heart turn smoothly, lazily. Ducking back out into the corridor, he barely had time to register the figure standing there before Jayne slammed him against the wall. The breath whistled from his lungs and it took Simon a moment to realise that Jayne had yanked down his sleep pants. The heat of the big man's body pressed against him seared from shoulders to hips. One huge arm wrapped around his shoulder, the hand clamped over his mouth. The other hand, strong and calloused, was wrapped around his jība.

Simon fought to push himself away from the wall, but one of his arms was pinned to his side, and his legs were hobbled by his trousers. He could feel the mercenary's slick erection pressing between his cheeks as Jayne rubbed himself against Simon. To his shame, Simon felt himself growing hard under Jayne's hand. The merc worked him hard but skillfully, and as his breathing grew ragged he pumped Simon faster until, burning with heat and embarrassment, Simon's hips bucked forwards and he came, spattering over Jayne's hand and the wall. Jayne thrust against Simon a few more times before stilling. After a pause, Jayne stood back and practically ran down the corridor towards his bunk.

Simon leaned against the wall, shaking. Against his chest, the chill of the metal seeped through his t-shirt, and where Jayne had pressed against his back, the air was cold. The twin patches at his front and back, wet and sticky, rapidly cooled. After a while, Simon pulled his sleep pants up and walked carefully, precisely, into the galley where he found a cloth and went back and cleaned every trace of his cum off the wall. Then he went back to his room and shed his clothes, cleaned himself up, and curled up in his bunk, his brain numb.

It was a long month before Simon and Jayne crossed paths late at night again. Once more, Simon found himself up against the wall with no warning, his pants around his ankles and Jayne using his weight, his strength, his body to hold the younger man firm, still.

Jayne's erection slid easily between Simon's cheeks, coated in some kind of lubrication. Simon shuddered as one of Jayne's hands guided the blunt tip to his entrance, then moved to grip his hip with punishing strength. Bending his knees a little, Jayne flexed his hips and pushed into Simon with one swift movement. Behind the hand over his mouth, Simon let out a hoarse cry of pain. Then the other hand was off his hip and wrapped tightly around Simon's jība, and Jayne was thrusting again and again into Simon's tight heat.

Simon's world reduced to the twin sensations of burning pain behind and rough pleasure in front until on one thrust Jayne hit his prostate and the black behind his eyes sparkled with stars. Fighting for breath, with Jayne's hand clamped over his mouth, his struggles completely ineffectual, Simon nearly blacked out as Jayne hit his prostate again and simultaneously pumped Simon's jība, twisting his thumb at the end. Calling out soundlessly, Simon came, sore muscles clenching tight around Jayne. With a grunt, Jayne stilled, pulsing hotly into Simon. Then he pulled free, making Simon hiss, pulled his trousers around himself, and ran.

It took longer for Simon to clean up. He used his t-shirt to scrub at the wall this time, but he had trouble bending, and negotiating the stairs back down to the passenger dorms left him whimpering and breathless. On his way past the infirmary, Simon grabbed a tube of antibiotic cream, and once he was finally, finally clean, he applied it carefully to the tears around his ring.

Over the next couple of days, he found excuses not to sit down or walk quickly. He didn't think anyone noticed.

Another month passed. Another encounter in a dark corridor. More pain and heat, blood and semen. But Mal saw, watching in horror from the shadows, and while Simon slumped against the wall, Mal stood in the corridor to the crew bunks and when Jayne ran round the corner, punched him hard enough to lift the big man off his feet. Another blow, as hard as possible, to the temple, and Jayne was out.

Mal dragged Jayne through the galley, fury lending him strength. He hauled the mercenary down the stairs to the cargo bay as though he were dragging a sack of laundry. Across the bay, he punched the button to open the inner door of the airlock.

'Tā mā de! Shoulda done this a long time ago,' he said savagely, aiming a kick at the prone man. 'No one does that on my boat. No one, ya hear?'

Beyond hearing, Jayne lay limp on the floor. Mal heaved him into the airlock and shut the door.

Waking from a sound sleep, River screamed. She was on her feet and running, out of her bunk into the cargo bay, before she could think.

'No! No, stop it! Stop!'

Mal turned and caught her as she flung herself at him.

'Whoa there, steady little bird. It's okay now, hush.'

'It's not! Please!' She began to sob.

Simon heard the noise and, heedless of his pain, took the stairs to the cargo bay two at a time. He tried to take hold of River, but she struggled and Mal wrapped her carefully in his arms.

'Hey, now! Quiet down!'

River buried her face in Mal's shirt as the two men looked at each other. Mal spoke first.

'Might wanna go clean up first, doc.'

Simon looked down and flushed all the way down to his bare, pale chest. In one hand he still held his stained t-shirt, and there were more stains on his pants. A bruise bloomed at his hip, just high enough to show above the waistband.

'I...'

'No need to say any more. I saw.' Mal's face was hard. 'Takin' care of it now.'

'What do you mean, taking care of it?' Simon asked. His eyes flickered from Mal to the airlock controls. 'Tiān xiăodé!' he gasped, and before Mal could stop him, he lunged forward and hit the button to open the inner airlock door. 'Jayne!'

River wriggled free of Mal's hold and danced backwards as Simon dropped to his knees to check for a pulse. Finding one, he sighed in relief.

'Help me get him to the infirmary. I need to see what damage you've done.'

'Wŏ de mā, Simon! Jayne just... And you want to help him?' Mal asked, anger and confusion warring across his features.

'Mal, help me.' Simon looked up at the Captain, eyes dark, haunted.

'Son of a -' Mal bent and grabbed Jayne's shoulders. Together they carried the heavy man through to the infirmary, with River watching anxiously, tears still shining in her eyes.

Once they had hefted the merc onto the examination table, Simon turned to his sister. 'River, please, just go to bed, mèi mei. I'll come see you as soon as I'm done here, I promise. But I need to work now.'

River nodded. 'So much pain,' she whispered. 'Poor Jayne.' Leaving Mal staring after her dumbfounded, she skipped back to her room.

Simon busied himself checking Jayne over. He had a large bruise forming at his jaw, and a lump already rising at his temple. Simon shone a light in his eyes, checking the way his pupils responded, then got out a scanner.

Mal leaned against the doorway and watched him work. He did his best to ignore the way Jayne's trousers weren't zipped up, the smear of dried blood on Simon's lower back.

'It looks as though he has a concussion, but he should be all right,' Simon said at last, relaxing a little.

'A minute later and he'd've had a lot more'n that,' Mal said. 'How is it... I saw him, Simon. I saw what he did to you.'

Simon crossed his arms defensively. 'You know what you think you saw.' He swallowed nervously. 'I'd appreciate it if you would close the door.'

It wasn't a request, but Mal closed the door anyway and tinted the windows. He watched as Simon opened a drawer, setting out wipes, cotton wool, antiseptic cream on the counter.

'I need to clean up. I'd do it later, but...' Simon gestured helplessly, stepped behind the screen and pushed off his sleep pants.

'You gonna tell me what'n the ruttin' hells' going on here?'

Simon hissed as the first wipe slid over his torn flesh, coming away bloody.

'I'm not very experienced. Sexually.' Simon found it interesting how his voice came out distant, light and steady, as though he was discussing the weather. 'I went to university when I was sixteen. It took me two years to get my pre-med degree. And then I went to Medacad, and I worked hundred-hour weeks because I loved learning to be a doctor. So I didn't have much time for more than the odd fumble here and there. I'm not saying I'm a virgin, just that I didn't have time for relationships. It wasn't a priority.'

He applied cream carefully, making sure that he coated himself thoroughly inside and out, then cleaned his hands with another wipe. Pulling his soiled sleep pants on with a moue of distaste, he stepped back around the screen and went to wash his hands.

'Then I found out about River, and all the hours I wasn't working, I spent trying to find her, to get her out. Now, well, I have to look after her. I want to look after her, help her get better if that's at all possible.' He dried his hands, then started tidying up the infirmary.

'I'm well aware of what Kaylee wants from me, Captain. I just... I can't. Not now. Maybe not ever, I don't know.' He sighed, and suddenly Mal was aware of just how young this Core-bred doctor was.

'But the body has needs, as I'm sure you're aware.' Simon put the handful of rubbish in the bin and put the screen back in the corner.

'Sometimes they aren't the kind of needs that can be satisfied by oneself.' He washed his hands again and checked Jayne's pulse.

Leaning back against the counter, he finally looked across at Mal and lifted his chin. Mal recognised it for the defense it was, more obvious when the doctor was tired, in pain and half-naked.

'You tellin' me Jayne was just satisfyin' a need? 'Cause we're planet-side plenty often enough for him ta take care o' that without... this.'

Simon swallowed again, a flush creeping up his cheeks. He shook his head. 'Not him, Captain. Me.'

'Wŏ de mā!'

'There are times when no one needs me to doctor them. When River's calm and sleeping. And I - I can't sleep. One, two nights, that's fine. But longer than that, and I can't function as ship's doctor. I can't take care of River, and I think I even make her worse because she knows that my brain just won't shut down, won't stop. She hears it, somehow.'

He looked at Mal, his distress evident in his eyes, in the awkward set of his shoulders. 'You know what living with constant stress does to a man, Mal. It changes the way your body responds to things. I've been living on adrenaline and fear for so long now that I don't have a way to not be scared any more. I can't... I need to feel that again from time to time just so that I feel normal, so that I can stop thinking and just feel, so that I can sleep.'

Mal listened in silence, shifting uncomfortably against the doorframe.

'I know this isn't a good way of dealing with it, but I can't afford to drug myself. And for what it's worth, Jayne really didn't want to do it.'

'He looked plenty willin' from where I was standin',' Mal said darkly.

Simon shook his head. 'The way he runs off? I'm pretty sure he goes to be sick. River's right. I hurt Jayne just so that I could sleep. I don't think I can ever begin to make up for it.'

'Doc...' Mal rubbed a hand over his face. 'You're tellin' me you forced Jayne? Ta do that to ya?'

Simon nodded wearily. 'It was the only thing I could think of. He always made sure I... got off... first.'

'How long has this been goin' on?'

'Six months?' Simon shrugged. 'But this - intercourse - once last month. And tonight. That's all.'

Mal gritted his teeth. 'It stops tonight, dŏng ma? Find some other way.'

Simon nodded.

'I'll watch him.'

Simon shook his head. 'I'll stay with him. He might need medical attention. I'll try waking him in a few minutes if he hasn't come round by then.'

'Weren't a question, doc.'

Simon's shoulders slumped. 'Fine. There's a stool over there.'

'What, you ain't sittin'?'

Simon glared at Mal's dead-pan face. 'I'd rather stand.'

'Jayne? Wake up, Jayne.' Simon lifted Jayne's eyelids, flashing a light in them and sighing in relief when Jayne grumbled incoherently in protest. 'Come on, Jayne. Wake up now.'

'Guh...' Jayne opened his eyes. 'Ow, ma head feels...' He struggled to sit up, then blanched. Simon whipped a kidney bowl under his nose just in time as the remains of dinner came back up.

Once Jayne had finished, he blinked up at the doctor, confused. 'What the ruttin' hell's goin' on, Simon?' he growled. 'Head feels like Kaylee used it ta pound nails.'

'That'd be me. Sorry, Jayne.' Mal stepped into view. 'Made a hasty judgement.'

Jayne slumped back down and groaned. 'Were gonna space me, weren'tcha?' he said, covering his eyes with one arm. 'Hell, I'd space me.'

'I was at that. River caused a fuss, an' Simon set things straight. I owe you an apology,' Mal said. 'It won't be happenin' again, we're agreed on that.'

Jayne made a sound of disgust. 'Damn straight. Tol' ya it were a bad idea, doc.'

'I'm so sorry,' Simon said, stepping forwards again. 'I should never have asked it of you.'

'Nope,' Jayne grunted. He took a deep breath and, swinging his legs off the bed, pushed himself upright.

'Is there any point in me asking you to stay here overnight?' Simon asked helplessly.

'No. Goin' ta my bunk. Where I shoulda stayed.'

'I'll need to come and check on you in an hour.'

'Won't lock it then.' Jayne eased himself to his feet, wincing. When he swayed, Mal stepped in with a hand at his elbow. Simon handed the captain an icepack, then watched as Jayne let the captain help him out of the infirmary and up the stairs. As they went, Jayne said, 'Least ya didn't break my jaw.'

'Almost broke my hand,' Mal admitted.

'Good.'

Simon went back to his room and changed, wincing as he pulled on a fresh pair of sleep pants. They hung loose and low on his hips. He pulled on a t-shirt, then a long sweater which hung down to his thighs. Suitably armoured, he crossed to River's room and tapped at the door.

'She's awake,' River called.

He slid open the door. 'How do you feel, mèi mei?'

'She feels as can be expected. She understands, but you do not comprehend.'

Simon knelt down awkwardly beside River's bed. 'No, I'm getting that feeling tonight.'

'There are more ways to induce an adrenal response, more ways to feel. It's easier to sleep with two.'

'River - '

'Boob. You should go check on him. Kiss it better.'

'I'm not kissing Jayne's head,' Simon said firmly.

'Not where it hurts,' River said sadly.

'All right, River, I'll go make sure he's okay. Do you think you can get back to sleep?

River nodded and yawned. 'Go!'

Simon went.

He dropped down into Jayne's bunk without bothering to knock. A low light was on in one corner, and Jayne was stretched out on top of the blanket. He was naked.

'Um...' Simon flushed and looked away.

'What?' Jayne opened one eye a crack. 'Figured ya c'n give me a hand cleanin' up. Y'owe me.'

Simon gaped in disbelief. 'I... All right.' He looked around and saw a washcloth by the sink. He held it under the tap, wrung it out, then crossed over to the bed. A hiss escaped him as he knelt down, but intent on his task, he missed the expression of concern that flitted across the big man's face.

Carefully he wiped the mix of lube, drying blood and semen off Jayne's genitals, doing his best not to tug at the hairs there.

Jayne watched him through slitted eyes as Simon folded the cloth and set to work cleaning Jayne's stomach and thighs. When Simon had finished, he stood, grimacing, and rinsed the cloth out in the sink. Then he shifted Jayne enough to pull the blanket out from under him, and made sure that Jayne was covered.

'How're you feeling?' Simon asked.

'Like Mal tried ta bash in my head. You?'

'Like someone shoved a stick up my ass,' Simon replied, surprising himself with his frankness.

'Hah!' Jayne winced as his jaw twinged.

Simon handed him the ice pack. 'Here, keep this on your jaw. Or your head.'

Jayne held it to his jaw. 'How 'bout on yer ass?'

It was Simon's turn to wince. 'I'd rather not, thank you. Look, Jayne, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry.'

'Yeah, I know. I shoulda kept sayin' no.' Jayne shifted restlessly. 'You plannin' on stayin'?' When Simon nodded, he sighed. 'Sit yer ass down, then.'

Simon shuffled uncomfortably and Jayne sighed again and wriggled back on the bed. 'Here, then.'

'I can't -'

'Well ya can't stand there all night, an' right now I need me some sleep. Don't need ya wakin' me up fallin' over. Might end up shootin' ya.'

Simon gave in to the inevitable and carefully, doing his best not to curse, he lay down beside Jayne. Reaching up, Jayne snapped the light off, then put his arm round Simon's waist, covering him with the blanket too.

'Jayne...'

'Bìzŭi.'

Simon listened as the merc's breathing slowed into sleep, feeling the heat of the big man's naked body soak through his clothes. He felt awkward; he was in pain and he was sharing a bunk with Jayne. Had he been watching, he would have been amazed at how quickly he fell asleep. Mal, checking on Jayne two hours later, merely raised an eyebrow and made sure to close the hatch to Jayne's bunk.

Translations:
jība - cock
Tā mā de - Shit
tiān xiăodé - in the name of all that's holy
Wŏ de mā - Mother of God
mèi mei - little sister
dŏng ma - understand me
bìzŭi - shut up