SIGHT

Jayne's just gotta catch a glimpse of Mal's black shirt and he's hard for the rest of the day. Worn only for extra special occasions, the black silk just makes Mal look like something from one of those dirty captures they sell in back alley sex shops.

They get a job at some fancy party and Mal decides to fit in and slips into that damn black shirt. Jayne groans when he spots the Captain descending the stairs and adjusts his pants. All night he's distracted, nearly gets himself shot up cause his minds wandering - all over Mal's body. When they get back to the ship Mal ain't too impressed, dismisses the crew and waits for them to get out of sight before he turns on Jayne.

"I dunno what the lu-suh you thought was up to tonight Jayne. We nearly got ourselves shot and the..." Jayne takes three steps, the first to cross the distance between them, the second to grab Mal and trip him back and the third to pin him up against the wall. He can't help it, he brings his mouth over Mal's adams apple, sucking and licking at the skin that tastes of sweat and his fingers slip over the silk.

"Jayne?!" Mal ain't pushing him away though. He's pulling at Jayne's shirt as he's kicking off his own boots. Finally Jayne gets them fancy buttons undone and he watches his hands smoothing the material down and over Mal's pale skin. Mal shifts, uncomfortable under so much attention. "Jayne?" He's quieter this time, worried he'll break whatever spell he's got Jayne under.

"That shirt. Every time I see you in it I just wanna see it coming off."

"Well, I feel I should warn ya, I got underwear made o' the same stuff."

SMELL

The kitchen always smells of coffee. There is, admittedly, the odd occasion when someone cooks something with real food and the scent hangs in the air and makes everyone hungry for days afterwards, but generally it's coffee.

Wash drinks it to stay awake, Inara drinks it when she runs out of tea leaves, River drinks it when Simon isn't watching. Mal and Zoë drink it because for so very long everything tasted and smelt the same, dirt and gunpowder. All the colours just faded into one off-grey canvas, one huge mess of red and black and brown, blood and night and mud. There were nights when the filth was so thick it was almost a second skin and when they found water and washed away the shell it felt like emerging from a monstrous cocoon. An animal ready to kill once again.

They drank coffee because it's so strong it almost washed away the taste and smell of everything else. Funny that now the taste just reminds them of everything they were trying to cover up. It's not something they share with anyone else, just one of them wakes up every morning and puts on a pot. Jayne don't drink the stuff coz it makes him too jittery. Mal likes the fact that Jayne never tastes of coffee, makes him feel new and clean and safe.

TOUCH

"Please!"

"Nu-hu." Jayne smiled and carried on. Mal pulled against the leather of his suspenders that were attatching him to the bed, hips parting contact with the bed, face pushed desperately into his bicep as Jayne descended lower. Jayne, however, was refusing to actually touch Mal. Hovering over Mal's body, Jayne blew streams of cool air over exposed inch of skin, traced patterns inches above Mal's writhing body. Mal had never experienced anything more torturous. Not at the hands of Alliance officers, not at the hands of unbalanced crime lords, not at the hands of Kaylee and Inara and their hairbrushes.

TASTE

Mal knows the taste of his own blood. Been in enough trenches and bar brawls to know the salty, iron laced taste. Hell, if he's honest he's probably tasted the blood of a few other men by this point. Not something he's proud of, just an ugly truth, one of many. He's never taken the taste as a sign of anything good, a fist in the face, a bullet in the arm. Nothing good. But this morning, when he finally starts gaining consciousness, he can taste a fresh split on his lip. He runs his tongue over and over the broken skin and smiles warmly.

He squints one eye open and finds that Jayne's still there in bed next to him.

SOUND

Kaylee grabbed up a wrench from the floor and slammed it up against the wall again. There was silence for a few minutes and then they started up again. She banged a few times more and turned up the radio.

Mal bit down on his bottom lip hard, tasting blood and trying to focus on the pain, trying to keep himself from the edge for just a little longer. Jayne obviously had other ideas, pulling Mal down against him hard and leaning over, teasing open Mal's sorely abused lips. Mal groaned into the kiss, bucking his hips up against the body above him. Jayne pulled away chuckling, grabbing one of Mal's legs in his hand and pulling the Captain's legs further apart he adjusted his angle, looking down to watch himself get buried balls deep in Mal's body. Mal fought to get his hands free of the bed sheets but a scream escaped him before he had a chance to muffle it. His back arching clean off the bed as he punched the thin mattress and then the wall.

Kaylee knocked back, hammering away for a good minute, during which time Jayne let off a few growls and moans. By the time she was finished telling them to shut up they were both spent. Dazed and happy in his post-coital glow Mal rolled on to his side to make room for Jayne. They fell asleep to the sound of Kaylee's radio.