by Jennifer-Oksana (email@example.com)
Fandom: Firefly/Battlestar Galactica
Disclaimer: Joss, Ron, not me.
A/N: If one wants to read this in the Babylon AU, or as slightly slant to it, it’s doable, but it works as a standalone, too.
Summary: In which Mal is wanted, Inara and Laura are playing at something, and everyone gets sticky and pleased.
Companions chose their clients. Inara chose Mal, or maybe Laura did, but either way, Mal wasn’t sure if he was a client, a Companion, or just the luckiest son of a bitch the verse has ever seen.
“Oh, ye gods, do that again,” Laura pleaded, her eyes closed as she arched under Inara’s oil-doused fingertips swirling over her back in circles. The room smelled of spices, scented oil, the faint miasma of candle-flame, and woman-skin, and Mal was gaping and trying not to.
He’d known that Inara had worked out an arrangement with Madam President Laura Roslin, but he hadn’t wanted to speculate. Didn’t even really dream of it. And now he was seeing sights that would put Jayne in his bunk for a week.
“You sure I’m wanted here?” Mal asked, because Inara was almost as naked as Laura, the curve of her breast gleaming slightly as she continued her work. “Because…”
“Shush,” Inara said dreamily. “You’re wanted. Don’t ruin it by speaking, Mal.”
“Now, I ain’t sure I rightly like that,” Mal said, walking closer to the two women. “If I’m wanted, it must in part be cuz of my sparkling personality.”
Laura Roslin turned her head and gazed up at him idly, crooking a finger at him. Mal leaned over and found himself being kissed. Not a polite kind of kiss, neither. The kind where warm, willing mouths pressed against his before the refugee president’s tongue parted his lips and darted into his mouth.
“Sparkle a little more quietly, Captain Reynolds,” she murmured, her hair falling into her face.
Dizzily, Mal looked over at Inara, who was smirking. “Mal?” she asked, one hand resting on her hip as the other traced lazy circles on her smooth, golden stomach.
“I can do strong and silent,” Mal agreed, running one hand over Laura’s shoulder and arm.
“Also pretty and idiotically noble,” Inara said, her soft hair falling into her eyes as she put her arms around Mal and helped him to his feet to unbutton his shirt and pants.
“Which we both find quite pleasing,” Laura added, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow as Inara peppered Mal’s neck and back with tiny kisses and bites as she stripped him.
“I’m pleased to be pleasing,” Mal said, shivering a little under the frank gazes of two attractive and unashamed women whose arms twined around each other as he tried to get his head around the circumstances.
Laura started laughing. “Oh, he’s perfect,” she said, stroking Inara’s arm while Inara sucked and nibbled on her arm and cupped one of her breasts. “Captain Reynolds? Are you uncomfortable?”
Mal walked forward a few steps and dropped to his knees, resting his palm against Laura’s stomach and feeling the muscles rise and fall. She smiled at him, and Inara’s eyes glittered at Mal and his nascent erection.
“I’ve never been in a situation like this before, ma’am,” Mal admitted. “Ain’t so much that I’m uncomfortable as I am flummoxed about the protocol.”
“You’re doing all right so far,” Inara said, kissing Laura on the ear before dropping her arms around her waist (her knuckles brushed Mal’s hand) and lower. “Just let the professionals take care of it, Mal.”
“Professionals? I only see one, ‘less I much miss my guess or you’re making a joke about President Laura’s work,” Mal said, shrugging off Inara’s attempt to overwhelm his calm. That earned Mal another kiss from Laura, but as he did so, he felt another set of fingers tickling his arm.
Mal lifted his head and found himself confronted with cinnamon-warm lips that belonged to Inara. They tickled, and as Mal’s teeth teased Inara’s lower lip, he felt another pair of lips on his hand.
“I don’t do so badly,” Laura said, her hands now on Mal’s torso and slipping downward. “Sex and politics have so many similarities, don’t you think?”
“Regularly insulted by amateurs,” Inara agreed, slipping her hand between Laura’s legs, “An art rather than a science.”
Laura arched into Mal’s hands. “Yes,” she said breathlessly before starting to pant and lean against Mal, who didn’t so much mind that.
He started kissing her, watching at how Inara was so clearly inside Laura, but both women had the presence of mind not to forget Mal’s existence (Inara’s eyes would catch his as he found a toothsome spot on Madam President’s left shoulder and he’d find a hand to place on Inara’s neck a moment) even though they were quite capable of pleasing each other.
Could get a man hard as a rock and ready to burst, really. Even a bit of friction from his cock being trapped between his own belly and Miz Laura’s was damned pleasant, especially with her gasps in his ears and her hands on his ass, squeezing hard as she arched hard and cried out.
“Inara,” Laura said in a low voice that was hoarse with desire but still commanding. “I think…”
Mal watched Inara’s mouth catch Laura’s, and the subtle nod that passed between them as Inara pulled away a little.
“Will you?” Laura asked Mal.
“I’m not apt to say no,” Mal said, cock aching and smile on his face. She smiled back, utterly confident and a little smug, and Mal eased her down against the bed before thrusting hard.
Inara chuckled impishly, and suddenly Mal felt her hands ghosting over his back. “Oh, Mal,” she said. “You really can’t resist a woman who knows how to command, can you?”
Laura laughed along with her, and Mal surprised her by flipping them over so that she was on top again. “But you do it so indirectly,” Laura said through a mouthful of hair as Inara pouted and slipped down out of Mal’s line of sight. “It’s part of your manly charms.”
Mal was about to answer when his knee jerked up and practically jabbed Laura in the ribs, thanks to Inara tickling his foot. “Inara, damn it,” he said loudly as Inara started laughing. “You’ll get your turn, I’m sure.”
“You’re bad at sharing, Mal,” Inara complained, pulling herself back up the bed while one of her hands massaged her own breast idly. “And you…”
Laura reached out and stroked Inara’s hair fondly. “It’s the privilege of older women and heads of state, dear,” she said, Mal’s hands setting on her hips as her pace sped up.
“Oh, I see,” Inara said, bouncing upward and practically jamming her tongue down Laura’s throat. Mal’s pulse rate jumped again, because it was hard to be averse to the sight of two handsome women aggressively…handling, yeah, that might cover the half-playful kissing and biting and touching Inara was doing with Laura and vice versa…each other.
Mal, however, was starting to feel like he was part of an exceptionally convoluted game and being forgotten and decided to run his hands over the woman he was having relations with, speeding up the pace of his thrusts until Laura, with a bitten-off cry of frustration and desire, pulled away from Inara and leaned down to Mal.
“Forget about me?” he asked, pulling her in for his own set of kisses.
“Cai bu shi,” Laura replied breathlessly. “You don’t share well, do you, Captain?”
“Wo de ma, woman,” Mal said. “I don’t know where to put my eyes, I’m so turned about by all the tension in this room.”
Laura’s eyes met his, pupils so dilated she looked like an alien. “Here,” she said in that low hoarse voice of command. “Let’s start with right here, Captain.”
Started taking him harder, hips practically slamming against him and Mal found himself breathless and transfixed, and trying, vaguely, to understand what in the name of God and his brothers Inara and Laura were at.
Seemed too much for the regular kind of whoring; if it was just that Miz Laura expected to be center of attention (she kissed him again, tongue tickling his stubble), Inara wouldn’t be so aggressive. Or maybe this is for him benefit, being pulled this way and that by women who…women who…
Games be damned, Mal was going to come and he wasn’t going to be known as the one who wasn’t good enough to get Madam President Laura off. He drew his thumb right against her, rubbing hard until she bit down on his shoulder and screamed, shuddering like she was about to fly apart.
Mal liked that. Mal didn’t realize how much until he realized the loudest person in the room was himself, and both Inara and Laura were looking at him with big, scheming eyes.
Mal shrugged and stared back, thinking about how much it was Inara’s turn to be turned into a mindless puddle of goo between two willing players. Also how very nice it was to see that Inara looked at least as turned on as Mal was sure he did, given all the Companion airs.
She wanted, too, and Mal would be pleased to oblige. Didn’t think Laura would much mind, either.
“Laura?” Inara asked as the other woman sort of squirmed out of the space between Inara and Mal, propping herself up comfortably behind Inara, and looking very, very pleased with herself.
“Oh, don’t Laura me,” Laura said warmly. “Impatient child.”
Mal’s brain had given up trying to decode the subtle dance between the two women, especially when Inara was looking at him like she was going to swallow him and Laura was practically glowing, trailing her fingers over Inara’s shoulder before a slight withdrawal and nod at Mal. All his.
Without asking, Mal pulled her close, tangling his hand in her hair and enjoying that half-offended gasp when he kissed her hard.
“You don’t have any manners, Malcolm Reynolds,” Inara chided in a soft voice.
“Now that ain’t fair, and you know it,” Mal said, knowing exactly what he was going to do to her now that he had her right where he wanted her. “I’ve been very mannerly about being passed between you two while you watched and judged.”
“I never…” Inara began to say as Mal exchanged another wry glance with Laura.
Inara found Laura’s hand over her mouth for just a moment as Mal half shimmied down while Laura half-sat up and settled Inara in front of her.
“She’s very lovely, isn’t she?” Laura asked, absolutely smirking at Mal, who was parting Inara’s legs (without much resistance, it had to be added) and finding the curls there very, very wet. “I’d do the honors, but you do have the right.”
“Oh, now you’re just patronizing…” Inara complained as Mal leaned down and blew against the damp-slick skin. “Me. You are both…”
“Yep,” Mal said. “Ain’t half bad, being serviced by amateurs, is it?”
Before she could yell at him, Mal buried his face in Inara, Inara-smell, Inara-taste, his nose tickling at her quim and his tongue-tip flickering out. When he half-glanced up, he saw Laura lick Inara’s neck, and damned if he wasn’t going to get hard all over again doing this.
But Inara was, Inara was there and she smelled good. Inara was good to nuzzle, to taste and lick and Mal was pretty sure that whatever his partner in crime was doing was making Inara pretty happy too.
Because Inara was moaning in Chinese, twisting and turning her hips to that Mal could taste more of her, lick inside of her and then at her clit, too.
He palmed one of her thighs to feel the tremble of the muscles, and suddenly two left hands clutched and tightened in his hair.
“Don’t stop,” someone not Inara said.
And Mal didn’t. Not until Inara hissed and spasmed against his face and he could finally look up, enjoying every lick, every cry, every brush of skin against his along the way.
Inara definitely didn’t look unhappy and Mal moved his way up her body, felt the brush her her breasts against his chest and smiled at both of them. Inara’s eyes were glittering, and Laura’s pupils looked mostly human again.
Mal kissed Inara, and was pleased to get a long, ardent kiss in return.
“Well,” Inara said. “Mal.”
“Hi,” Mal answered. “Hi to both of you.”
Inara’s eyes flickered a little discontent. “Hi,” she answered.
“Are we crushing you, ma’am?” Mal asked.
“I’m fine,” Laura said. “Be nice to Inara. She has been an eminently suitable Companion throughout this union.”
She trailed her toes along Mal’s leg, and Inara had to smile at that, especially when Mal yelped and pulled away, letting Inara turn on Laura and give her a quizzical look.
“Eminently suitable?” Inara asked.
“Sounds better than sticky-making and pleasing,” Mal suggested, sprawling against the pillows and mattress. “Isn’t that right, Madam President?”
“You’re a poet, Captain,” Laura replied tartly while Inara teasingly hit Mal with a pillow. “No wonder Inara is all a-quiver for you.”
“I have said that my own self,” Mal said disingenuously, bracing himself for the flurry of female abuse that he was about to receive. “Both about the poetry and quivering, that is…ow!”
And for all of it, Mal was grateful.
Even if the ladies did hit hard and aim at his head.