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The sun's had enough, and the simmering sky
[by victoria p.]
Rating: Adult
Summary: He feels like he's on fire, and with Kaylee, he ain't afraid to burn.
Spoilers: None, really.
Notes: Written for luzdeestrellas' birthday. Title from "Forget Myself" by Elbow.
Date: March 16, 2006
HVAC's been down for twelve hours ("Can't be fixed 'til we land, Cap'n," Kaylee'd assured him, "but it'll be easy enough when we do, long as we can get the parts."), and Serenity's a hot box, sure enough. They're all a little overheated, and the close quarters don't help. The rest of the crew skedaddled when they finally landed on Paquin, looking for cool, fresh air that didn't smell like dirty laundry and ozone, and after peeking into the engine room--twenty degrees hotter than the rest of the ship and Kaylee cursing up a storm--Mal had offered to get the parts she'd need to fix the problem. They're easy enough to come by at the local salvage yard, and nearly new. He could get used to being flush, he thinks, as he returns to the ship.
They've had a run of good luck recently, which he can't hardly credit after all their troubles, but he reckons hesitating over good fortune never got a man anywhere, even if he knows it won't last.
Because he knows it won't last.
Lots of things don't, and he's concentrating on the ones that might, maybe, if he pays them the right attention. Which is the other reason he's heading back to Serenity before everyone else. Got to keep the ship running, and keep his genius mechanic happy.
Lately, that last thing's been taking up a lot of Mal's time, and he ain't complaining. Just one more way his luck has turned, and he's going to ride it as long as he can.
And thinking of riding and Kaylee at the same time gets him all hot and bothered and ready to toss the parts aside and have at Kaylee like, well, like Jayne let loose in a whorehouse--a thought that's a little more disturbing than Mal likes at times like these.
He stops dead in the doorway of the engine room when he sets eyes on her.
With no one around, Kaylee's stripped down to her underwear and a tank top, and she's bent over, ass in the air, working at something with a wrench, mumbling curses. The sweat makes her glisten gold in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and Mal thinks he might have to start believing in God again, 'cause no way a man gets this lucky without help from someone.
"Wo de ma," he says with what breath he's got left in his body.
She looks over her shoulder at him and grins, face flushed and hair curling from the humidity. "Did you get what I need?"
"Got it right here, darlin'."
She gives a laugh that's half groan at his nonsense. He don't think he'll ever get tired of hearing her laugh. "I meant the parts."
"Got them, too." He raises his hand, the metal in the bag clanking. Her eyes light up and he don't know if it's because of the parts or because he's bringing them to her. He puts the bag down; she slips to her knees to rummage through it and he has to swallow hard and put his hands behind his back for a minute, thinking about the wet heat of her mouth around him. But of course she pays him no mind when there's engine work to be done. He's used to it; thinks it's kind of cute, even. He plays with the knot of hair on top of her head, needing to touch her and knowing he's not going to get anything more until Serenity's fixed. Which is as it should be, even when it makes him crazy.
"Shouldn't take but a second to set this right, Cap'n," she says, turning and walking back to the engine, hips swaying a bit now for his appreciative eyes.
He follows her, knowing better than to touch while she's working, just enjoying her nearness and anticipating what's to come, listening to her croon to Serenity in the same voice she uses on him sometimes when he wakes from old nightmares stopping by to visit.
After what seems like an eternity to him, on fire with need of her, she pats the last stray part into place and says, "That's my good girl." She smiles over her shoulder at him. "Think she'll do, Cap'n. System will take a little while to reboot, but then the HVAC will be up and running again."
He sets his hands on her hips and pulls her back against him, savoring the feel of warm, supple flesh beneath his fingers, and she squeaks.
"Think I could learn to like the heat," he murmurs, licking at the sweat-damp skin of her neck. She tastes of salt and soap and a bit of engine grease, not fancy perfumes or lotions; he loves the taste of her on his tongue. "Like to lick every inch of you, bâobèi, and then some." She shivers and hums in approval of that plan, rubbing against him like a cat looking to be petted. The friction is so good he thinks he might not last long. "This may be quicker than I anticipated," he says, and her laugh vibrates through him.
"Maybe I got a hankering for quick today," she answers. "The others'll be back soon, and I don't want anyone walking in while we're still busy."
He shudders; he don't relish the idea of getting caught with his pants down. "Can't have that." He slips his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties and shoves them down so he can dip his fingers into the wet curls between her thighs.
"Mal," she moans, sending a jolt right to his cock. She arches against him and he pushes his other hand up under her tank top so he can cup a breast, roll the peaked nipple between his fingers. "Wait, wait," she says breathlessly, turning to face him. She hooks her fingers into his waistband and pulls him close for a kiss. Her mouth is hot and slick, and the touch of her tongue against his raises his temperature beyond bearable, need firing in his veins.
"Kaylee," he growls against her lips, cupping her ass and grinding into her.
She breaks the kiss, giggling, and steps out of her panties. Then, with a flourish and a grin, she pulls off her shirt, dropping it to the deck. As he unbuttons his pants, she turns and bends, bracing herself against the engine casing. The look she throws him over her shoulder is saucy. She's still grinning that wide, wicked grin.
He shoves impatiently at his pants, but takes his time as he pushes inside her, savoring the feel of her slick, wet heat surrounding him. He rocks his hips, slow, so slow, one hand on her hip, the other sliding around to circle her clit. He knows what she likes, and she bucks back against him, making little gasping sounds he never gets tired of hearing. They move together like a perfectly tuned engine, hard and fast and oh-so-good. He leans forward so he can press kisses to her back and shoulders, still a little amazed at how well they fit, and how good it feels. He feels like he's on fire, and with Kaylee, he ain't afraid to burn.
She starts to shake, and her body tightens around him, drawing him in even deeper, a rising cry of, "Oh, oh, oh," falling from her lips as she comes.
He don't last too long after that, thrusting into her until the tension breaks and he's spilling himself deep inside of her, hands clutching tight on her hips as he rides out the waves of pleasure running through him.
Her legs are trembling, and his are none too steady, neither, so he hooks an arm around her waist and sinks to the deck, cradling her in his lap. He uses her discarded underwear to clean up a little, and she giggles. He kisses her softly, brushing the sweaty hair off her forehead, proud that he's put that sleepy-satisfied smile on her face.
"Hey," he says. They have time before the others get back to cuddle a little, and she does like it. Truth to say, so does he, though he would never admit it. He thinks sometimes he ought to say some pretty words, even though Kaylee don't seem to need them--maybe because she don't seem to--but his mind is always pleasantly blank afterwards, and everything he comes up with sounds dumb.
She nestles against him with a deep sigh of contentment. She looks up at him and says, "Shiny, Cap'n." She makes it a term of endearment, better than any flowery words ever could be.
The HVAC hums to life, and a soft rush of cool air fills the engine room.
"Yeah, Kaylee. It is."
end
***
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