Written for comment_fic on livejournal

Simon examined his body in the mirror. Bite marks and hickeys pretty much all over. Beard burn on his stomach - why the hell was Jayne so into belly buttons, anyway? Bruises on the hips the size of Jayne's thumbs and fingers, which grasped him tightly and held him down. He wrote down all the marks, using medical notation to mark the exact location, color, and severity.

It was pathetic, he knew. A chart of miniscule injuries, in coded language that nobody else on the ship could read. When all the marks on his body had faded, the chart would still be there, though.

And he would have it still when, in a few days, Jayne got tired of him, when Jayne again started his unexplainable but predictable cycle of hating Simon for months, and then fucking him for a few days, only to begin again.

In the long droughts, Simon would spread his old charts across his desk, and it would seem like research to anyone who walked by. But Simon would instead be gazing at his mementos, poring over them like Kaylee did her romance novels. He would read the encoded numbers and letters again and again, remembering the bruises and scrapes, their size and shape and location. Jayne might think Simon was being obedient, leaving well enough alone until Jayne got hungry for him again. But with his charts, Simon could have him every night.

The marks that Jayne gave Simon. They were Jayne's temporary claim on Simon's body. But they were now Simon's permanent claim on Jayne.