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WARNING: If you haven't read the warning on the index page, go back and read it. If you don't, and you don't like what you find here, don't come crying to me.

Title: Jayne's Gun

Author: Eleanor K.

Fandom: Firefly

Pairing:Mal/Jayne, NC-17

Warnings: silliness.

Notes: Thanks to Dani for the plot idea and for audiencing.


The alarm was louder than the proximity alarm on Serenity. It woke Jayne up from a dead sleep--or maybe what had woken him was Mal smacking him repeatedly on the back of the head.

"Get the fuck off me. You weigh a solid ton."

"Whassat?" Jayne mumbled. "Who's going on?"

"We're going on downstairs if you'll get yourself off of me."

Jayne grunted and rolled off, suddenly glad Mal had made them clean up last night. Waking up stuck together in the morning and getting in the shower was one thing. Rolling out of bed sudden-like and losing pubes in the process wasn't a fun thought for--

"What the hell time is it?"


--for three in the ruttin' morning.

Gorram ruttin' morning. When Jayne found out who set the place afire, he was going to have a serious talk with them. He might take Vera along just to show how serious he was.

Speaking of which.

Mal was sitting up and pulling his boots on. Jayne still had his on from the night before, despite Mal's whinging over his wearing them in their wedding bed. It wasn't like they'd been married *in* the damn thing. And he'd shined his boots up real good for the ceremony. Good thing he'd kept 'em on, too. Now he had time to get his guns together before they left.

"What the hell are you doing, Jayne?"

"Just getting my stuff. Keep your britches on." He glanced back, leering. "Or take 'em off. Ain't gonna bother me none."

"Two, Jayne. You can take two. No normal person needs more than that, so try and pretend you are one and let's get out of here before we end up crispy crittered."

Jayne looked through his trunk, Vera in his hand. He pulled out the sawed off and the old Remington...but then there was the Bostock 12 gauge...and the sidekick Wash had gotten him for a wedding present, and...


"I can't pick, Mal. You go on."

Mal grabbed his arm, stuffed the Remington down the front of Jayne's pants, and pulled him out the door.

"Dammit! What about the sawed off at least?" He struggled, but Mal's fingers were digging into him in that captainy way that said now was not a good time to cross him. And there had been that whole love, honor, and obey thing besides...

"Two, Jayne. The one in your hand plus the one down your pants makes two. You're lucky I ain't counting the one *in* your pants."

It took a damn long while to climb down thirty flights of stairs, and Jayne was starting to think he'd die of boredom before the fire got them, especially since he didn't so much as catch a whif of smoke on the way down. Outside was better. The air was cool, there were pretty girls in thin nighties and guys in not much more than their skin, and people were giving him and Vera a wide berth, which was as it should be.

Mal took his hand and tugged him around the side of the building, into an alley.

"Don't wave that thing around. Neither of us are getting arrested on our honeymoon. I mean it."

"Sure, Mal. Ain't planning on it."

"Being arrested isn't something you plan on. Just be careful."

Jayne leaned against the wall. "Was tryin' to be careful. Well armed is careful."

"And don't pout."

"Ain't pouting."

"Are so."


"Are so--dammit, Jayne. It's not like I made you leave Vera."

"Some of those was presents."

"And don't think I didn't appreciate you registering at Joe-Bob Chang's Gun Emporium, but didn't you have enough *before* the wedding?"

"That's like saying we got enough money."

Mal looked like he was thinking that over for a while, and finally he nodded.

"Some things you can't have too much of, I guess."

"Damn right. Money. Guns..." He knew there was at least one more.



Smart guy, Mal. Good reason for tying the knot with him right there. He thought about things, and when he thought about sex, he usually had good thoughts.

Like right now, he was walking Jayne back until the alley wall stopped him and he had Mal all pressed up against the front of him, breathing hot on his neck, knee nudging his thighs apart.

"Still pouting?" Mal asked.


"And here I was gonna offer to make you feel better."


"I think you were," Mal said, sinking to his knees. "Just a little."

"Maybe... Aw hell..."

Mal had his pants open and halfway down his thighs, licking across his dick through his boxers.

Jayne's hips twitched forward. He wound one hand in Mal's hair and set Vera carefully against the wall. He didn't know what had happened to the Remington. Mal must've done something or other with it, but now he was sucking, wetting cotton and dragging it across Jayne's hardening cock, and Jayne wasn't worrying about his other gun any more.

His hand clamped tight around Vera's barrel, the other trying not to pull Mal's hair. He heard the fire alarm still blaring in the distance, but it seemed a damn long way off. His blood rang in his ears, and the slurps and sucks and wet noises Mal made were all that got through to his brain.

Then Mal pulled down his boxers.

Cool air on his hot dick, wet from Mal's mouth and from the liquid leaking from the tip. Jayne couldn't help it and didn't really try. He leaned his head back against the wall and moaned.

"Yesu, Mal, don't stop..."

Mal didn't stop, even to answer. He licked once up the shaft and then took Jayne all the way in, down his throat, lips closed tight around the base. So sudden and hot, Jayne almost screamed. He bit his tongue, and a strangled gurgle came out instead. His hand left Mal's hair to scrabble at the brick wall behind him, looking for something to hang onto.

Mal's nails dug into his hip, urging him forward, and he took the hint. It would've been nice to last, but it was too public, too goddamn hot, and Mal was sucking him like he'd never get another chance. Jayne couldn't hold on. He fucked Mal's mouth for a few more seconds and then came, white behind his eyes, sliding down the wall almost before Mal could back off.

Mal sat back on his heels and licked his lips. "Feeling better?"

"Wha... Um..." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Fuck, Mal. Holy fucking hell."

Mal leaned in and kissed him. "Up. Alarm's off. Time to go back up to that nice big bed and get sticky again."

"Good plan."

Mal zipped up his pants for him, patting his crotch.

"I like your guns, Jayne. Every last one of them."

Jayne took his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He leaned against Vera, knees still a little weak. He figured marrying Mal was about the smartest thing he'd done yet.


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