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Oilslick shines against her dappled cheeks, her collarbone, the sliver of skin peeking out from that little floral number she’s been flouncing around in just to drive him crazy, no bra, just salt and skin, sweat and engine oil and Kaylee. Simon’s mouth waters, his hands more tremulous than he’d care to admit to, to allow at all, anywhere but the walls of Kaylee’s bunk, which have grown more familiar in these last handfuls of weeks. Now, as they stumble back into her room, Simon noses at her neck, bunching up the fabric at the back of her dress.
“What’s gotten int’a you, honey?” Kaylee asks, fingers carding through his hair as he all but claws at her, and he can’t help but feel it’s a little mean, because she knows. She knows. She’d shown up to dinner late, smirking when she looked at him as she slid into her chair, tucking her hair behind her so he could see the engine grease painting her neck, too. As she grabbed a plate, rambling about the latest trial with Serenity’s engine, Simon had hardly been able to keep his eyes off her all night, mortified as he shifted in his seat and River elbowed him, grinning with knowing eyes.
In the here and now, he can barely hold onto himself as he grips at her elbows and leans his forehead against hers, eyes shut tight for a moment. “You’re—you’re so…”
“Yeah?” she asks, leaning back and using her thumb and forefinger, somehow both calloused at the tips and petalsoft, he doesn’t know how she manages it, to tilt his chin up, make his eyes open, make him look more clearly at her. Not that he minds. Where else would he want to look? “Tell me,” she says but doesn’t give him the time, nor the sanity, before leaning in to press her lips to his open mouth, warm and wet and soft. Simon all but stumbles back, but before he can reciprocate the kiss properly in turn, she pulls away. He chases her lips a moment after before fluttering his eyes open to see where she’s gone. “Tell me?” she asks, the whisper of it a gentle graze against his skin, and he whines, struggling to put two thoughts together in the right order. With her hand cradling his head, their bellies pressed together, with the warm heat and scents of earth and metal so close at hand, he just wants. He didn’t know he could feel this way.
Finally: “Need you,” is all he can manage, voice oddly thick, right hand moving down to paw at the back of her dress, bunching up the fabric there once more.
“Hey, sh… look at me?” she says, though he still has been. She cradles his cheek in her hand, and Simon melts into the feel of it for a moment before standing a little straighter and turning his head to kiss the center of her palm. “You got me already, darlin’,” Kaylee insists softly, using her thumb to circle the underside of his left ear and then kissing him again before falling into an embrace. Simon shudders against Kaylee’s slickened collarbone, usually scented with strawberries and vanilla from some concoction she makes, which could still be traced if one were to hunt for them, but mostly she smells like skin and engine grease and beautiful, so beautiful. How simple it is, now: to want, and to have.
With the thought, Simon lifts Kaylee, and she laughs a little bemusedly, a quick squawk of a thing, wrapping her legs around his waist as he moves them back against the wall and reaches one hand between them to slide his zipper and shimmy his trousers far enough down.
Kaylee hums, pleased at his strength in lifting her. Simon smiles.
“Pressin’ all up on the wall is new,” Kaylee giggles.
“Need you,” he repeats with urgency, but then halts a moment. “We don’t have any—shit, I, I don’t want to hurt you—” He should have grabbed some lube from the little drawer she keeps at the end of her bunk. He bites his lip, considering how best to maneuver them closer without losing this momentum, hardly able to make any sense at all with Kaylee’s fingers running through his hair, but before he can overthink it too much, Kaylee leans closer.
“Got myself all nice ‘n ready for you,” she says in a low voice. Against her shoulder, he groans in response and lines himself up underneath the hem of her dress. “You shoulda seen it, Simon—I was in your dorm earlier,” she whispers. “All spread out on your bed.” Simon closes his eyes against the image for a moment, picturing her knees bent wide as she prepared herself, swears under his breath and makes the first shallow thrust, smoothing his hand where it’s climbed under her dress to rest on her hipbone. She moans and continues, “Gave myself three fingers, and I was so wet, and so—mm,” she says when he starts moving more in earnest, arm twinging just a little where it rests under her. “So tight.” Then, lowered to his ear again even though they’re all alone, just because she knows it’ll drive him crazy, she whispers again: “I love how you smell, too, you know. Mint and metal and—and rain? How do you that?” she asks, and he laughs lightly. “I was wearing your sweater when I got off,” she adds, chin rolling against his shoulder.
Simon feels his last thread of resolve snap clean in half as his laugh turns throaty and he redoubles his efforts. Gasping, her hands tug just shy of too hard where they’ve found themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, a bit overgrown, and Simon hisses, feeling heat pool that much wilder in his groin as he fucks her, nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head.
“Shit, sorry,” she says, but Simon shakes his head a little too fast.
“No, I—I…” he trails off, a little choked and a lot mortified at how much he liked it. After a moment, Kaylee tugs again, a little lighter but still firm, and Simon shudders.
“Like that?” she asks, and he nods before kissing down her neck, licking the hollow there and taking in her scent once more, knowing his movements are growing frantic, knowing he won’t be able to hold out or keep her lifted much longer. From there, it’s a quick race to ecstasy as he thrusts to the hilt a few times in quick succession and Kaylee moans threadily, pulling at his hair again and spasming around him. Simon follows quickly suit with a final tug she gives his hair—this for that. He smiles against her clavicle as she moans, knowing she likes the feeling of the warmth inside her. The first time, he’d been alarmed, furious with himself for forgetting the condom in their haste, but she’d assured him the shot she takes monthly is plenty.
They manage another moment there, panting, before his leg buckles under them and they collapse to the floor, Simon barely managing to catch her in time so Kaylee doesn’t hit her head against it, laughing against his chest as he collects her there and kisses the top of her head while they pant, catching their breaths.
His arm twinges fiercely, and he swears again.
“Alright?” she asks, and he waves it in front of her.
“A little sore. I’ll take something later,” he says as she examines it. She presses a kiss to his wrist in response.
“Aw. Our first sex injury as a couple.”
Simon hums. Finally, she turns so she’s facing him, knees pressed against where he kneels, and she smiles again, sweeping her hand through the front fringe of his hair.
“We should really oughta prob'ly cut this, but… I like it,” Kaylee shrugs, and Simon pulls her closer to him. They’re wrecks, at this point, the both of them, and they’ll need to clean up soon, but for now, he only wants to feel her weight against him.
“Whatever you say.”