Category: drabble collection, character study
Summary: Five drabbles focused on Jayne Cobb.
His new gun is shiny and Jayne can't help but pull it out, take it apart, reassemble it, clean it, oil it. It's a real beauty.
It won't ever replace Vera, but this little baby is easier to conceal and she packs a mean punch.
Jayne's considering taking her out to clean her again, but a look from Mal across the table stops him.
He frowns cuz he can't quite read the expression. There's a smile there, and fondness... and something else. Jayne cleans the gun again, slowly, eyeing Mal, who's watching Jayne's hands with interest and a little heat.
When the shit really hits the fan, that's when Mal lets Jayne be what he is. It's like he's on a leash most days but when Mal lets him off it...
Those are the times that Jayne knows he scares even Serenity's crew, the times that he knows Mal wonders if he can put the leash back on him.
He honestly doesn't know if some day Mal won't be able to reel him in again.
But he still loves it when he gets to go wild, and he loves the way Mal's eyes shine when he's watching him do so.
He don't ever kiss. Not cuz he don't like it, but because he's been told he's no good at it. More than once.
And it's okay with him. He don't need no gorram kissing. Kissing is for people who have relationships. Kissing won't get him off, so there's no reason to do it then.
That's how he sees it until the day a row with Mal becomes something else and he finds himself pressed against the wall with Mal's mouth over his.
The slippery tongue scorches him, in the best of ways and Mal doesn't tell him he's no good.
It feels good to do the mindless lifting. Jayne kinda just zones on the flex and pull of his own muscles.
His mind keeps circling back to Mal's mouth. Its infuriating quirk, the way it curls up into a snarl.
The way it feels over his own when Mal decides he wants Jayne.
Jayne looks up and smiles. Mal's eyes are burning into him. He's leaning on the rail of the metal walkway, watching Jayne.
Then Mal turns away, heading off towards the crew quarters.
Jayne grins and puts the weights aside before following while he's stripping off his shirt.
No one knows about Jayne's hot spots. Except from Mal, who seems to have an eerie ability to find them and to abuse them.
The way those clever fingers dance across Jayne's body one moment, to then dig into his hips the next as Mal swallows him down. All the way to the root.
It feels so gorram good.
But not as good as when Mal let's Jayne fuck him, lets Jayne push him face down on the bunk, lets him take control. Nothing beats the tight heat or the noises that Mal makes. Noises that Jayne draws from him.