The pounding of the rain on the hull was nothing to the sound of heavy boots running up the fore corridor to the bridge. Breathless and soaked, the two men stopped by catching themselves on the control tables. Simon was laughing.
"You are getting old, Mal."
"No, I'm not, gorram you. You cheat." he answered, sending a mock glare at his lover.
Simon nodded, still out of breath. "I suppose I do. That's if you consider being younger and prettier cheating."
Mal gave no notice as he tackled Simon, and pushed him down into the pilot's chair. "I'll show you how cheaters are treated on the Rim, boy." Simon's laugh was cut off by the rough, damp kiss. Mal paused, and looked around. "There's something wrong here."
Simon looked at Mal. "Could it be the fact that we're both sopping wet, and still dressed?"
"No, that's not it. Where in ruttin' hell is my pilot?" Simon grinned, and pointed his head back to the bridge door.
"I believe he's enjoying conjugal relations with his wife. You know, since we're not actually flying."
"Ah." Mal frowned, and stood up. "Still, it's not right, him leavin' the bridge unattended."
Simon groaned. "Mal... it's not like it's unattended. We're here."
Frowning again, slightly, "Thought you wanted out of your wet clothes."
Simon stood, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Well, if you could lock the doors..."
Mal's breath caught in his throat, as he took in what Simon was saying. However, it took a good long moment before he could move. By that time, Simon's shirt was off, and he was looking at Mal in amusement. "Are you going to just stand there?"
He swallowed, taking in the view of the slick skin on display, and finally shook himself out of his reverie. Moving quickly, he locked all the doors leading to the bridge. When he turned back, Simon had finished taking off his pants, and stood there, naked, a stray shaft of sunlight illuminating the dust motes floating in the air behind him.
Mal swallowed again. Simon was so... perfect. He found his body moving, and with no warning, he yanked Simon's body to his. As he claimed a kiss, Mal felt Simon molding his body to his. Lean, long muscle pressed into his side, damp skin against damp cloth. Mal groaned into the kiss.
Simon pulled away, eyes darkening with lust. "I think your clothes are going to have to go, too, Mal." Hands were moving at his waistband, as he shrugged out of his suspenders. Slender, strong fingers slipped inside his pants, stroking his erection.
But as they moved away, trying to yank on the fabric, Mal caught them. "Like this." His intense gaze caught Simon's eyes before he swooped in for another kiss. "Just like this, baobei." Mal pushed Simon, gently, to his knees. "Your mouth, Simon. I want your mouth on me." Simon nodded, and folded gracefully down.
Hot air blew against Mal's cock seconds before Simon's tongue flicked around the head. Groaning, Mal tangled his hands in the dark hair before him. It was cold and wet against his fingers. But that contrast only heightened the sensations of Simon's hands and mouth working on his cock.
Mal tried not to push, he tried not to thrust, but there was so much heat. Sucking, swirling, nibbling, stroking, Simon was bringing him over the edge surely and quickly. A coil twisted deep in his belly, and he couldn't hold back. "Simon..." he warned, just before he thrust deep into Simon's throat, and came, pulsing and hot.
Mal's knees almost gave out, and he stumbled backwards, just as Simon rocked back onto his heels, looking a bit stunned. His lips were swollen, and slick with come. Mal managed to control his body long enough to step forward, and drop smoothly to his knees.
He grabbed a hank of Simon's hair, and pulled his head back. Licking and nibbling at the proffered lips, he forced Simon further and further back. "Made, Simon, your mouth was so good. It tastes so good." Mal found himself whispering. "What do you want me to do?"
Simon groaned, and collapsed onto the deck plating, legs sprawled wantonly. "Mal..." he managed to gasp. Mal hadn't let up his assault on that wet mouth.
"You want my hands or my mouth, Simon?" he managed, just before teasing his tongue past Simon's lips. Simon arched, unable to answer, his tongue dancing with Mal's. But his hand found one of Mal's, and guided it to his straining erection. This hint, Mal understood immediately.
Not letting up on the kiss, he began roughly stroking Simon's cock. Slowly, at first, and with increasing pressure, he dragged his thumb across the slit, gathering up pre-come to slick the way. Simon was thrusting his tongue into Mal's mouth, and his cock into Mal's hand.
When he came, hot liquid spurting onto his belly, Simon threw his head back, banging softly against the metal floor. Mal just grinned, and gently squeezed the last of Simon's orgasm out. Mal cleaned his hand with his tongue, enjoying the taste of the bitter-salt tang. When he finished, Simon was looking at him. "Yes?"
"Any particular reason only one of us is naked, Mal?"
Mal smirked down at his lover. "Can you imagine the crew's reaction to seeing their captain naked?"
Simon rolled his eyes. "Not like that hasn't happened before."
"True." Mal lay down on his side, dipping his fingers in the sticky pool on Simon's stomach. "Could be I just like seeing you naked."
"Well, now I'm naked, wet, and sticky." Simon lapped at Mal's fingers as they were brought to his lips. "What do you say to doing a bit of a clean up before round two?"
Mal considered. He liked Simon this way, but the clean up itself had some potential. He looked at Simon, and realized, with a happy shock, that his lover was thinking the exact same thing.
Standing, he helped Simon to his feet. "Clean up it is, then." Mal gathered Simon's clothes up quickly, and when Simon held his hand out for them, smiled his best roguish smile. "What? You're just going to take them off again." Mal hit the open command on the door, and took off down the corridor, Simon's exasperated shout following at his heels.