
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/56630.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Firefly
  Relationship:
      Simon_Tam/River_Tam
  Character:
      Simon_Tam, River_Tam
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Pre-Serenity, Angst
  Collections:
      Stories_About_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-02-15 Words: 3079
****** Tomorrow I'll miss you ******
by merle_p
Summary
     Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a
     genius to understand why.
Notes
     Written February 2009.
     Firefly belongs to Joss Whedon, the title is a quote from the song
     All my loving by The Beatles.
     Translation of the Chinese phrases see endnotes.
     Written for
     [[info]]
inlovewithnight's One-night-stand_ficathon. This story is for [
[info]]recrudescence, whose prompt was: Firefly, Simon/River.
See the end of the work for more notes
    * The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far
      too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this
      to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if you are able to.
      Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
***
Simon has been avoiding her for weeks now, and it doesn't take a genius to
understand why. He's been weird ever since River announced that she wants to
join the Academy's program; it's obvious that he doesn't want her to go, but
he's afraid that if he shows it, she might think he's envious of her progress –
and so he just tries not to see her at all.
Stupid Simon – as if she'd ever believe that. They both know that Simon is
incredibly smart, and they both know that River is smarter; but Simon has been
nothing but proud of her, and she is sure that this hasn't changed.
She doesn't completely understand why he's so averse to her going to school –
as well as she knows her brother, there still are moments when he's driven by
motivations she isn't quite able to grasp –, but she would like to believe that
he just doesn't want to see her leave. She feels bad for thinking it, because
of course she doesn't enjoy seeing him sad, and still she can't help wishing
that the thought of them being apart is just as painful for him as it is for
her.
Which is why his strategy of avoidance is especially foolish, because she wants
to spend the time that's left in his company, and she knows that he feels the
same. They shouldn't be apart for days while they are still in the same city.
On the same planet.
***
She skips her dancing lesson and goes to pick up Simon at the clinic after his
shift. He's late, as usual, and River waits on a park bench facing the main
entrance of the hospital, distractedly thumbing through a book on extinct
terrestrial animal species. When she finally spots him leaving the building, so
obviously tired, but still holding himself so carefully upright, she once again
feels her heart beating faster.
She's not stupid, she knows what it means. Knows that at the age of fourteen,
she's hitting puberty; old enough for her sexual needs to awake; she's read
enough books to know in detail about the hormonal changes her body is going
through.
Her mother, whenever she takes River to a tea room or a bath house because she
thinks these excursions are going to improve their relationship, tries to find
out if there are any boys River might take an interest in. Not that she thinks
River is old enough to date, but she considers her daughter being in that
dangerous phase where parents have to be extra attentive if they don't want to
be made grandparents far too soon.
River always makes it clear that boys are not something she's interested in,
and it's true – the boys her own age are stupid; clumsy children who don't know
anything about the universe or themselves. Besides, it's not her fault that any
male would be found lacking when compared to Simon.
Her brother is beautiful, and she knows that it's not just her being
subjective: Since she was old enough to notice she's seen other people look at
him, men as well as women, with open admiration and barely concealed lust; and
Orestes, the resident who has had the privilege to take Simon out a few times,
would happily step off the roof of a building if Simon asked him to. Of course,
her brother is far too nice to abuse his power in such a way, and if he's yet
toying with Orestes, it's just because he's too oblivious to understand his own
allurement.
***
Simon starts to walk faster as soon as he notices her, and she jumps up to meet
him, book forgotten on the bench. "River, what are you doing here?" he asks,
surprised, and she can see that he's already worrying.
"If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain", she
quotes, and then, accusingly: "You've been hiding."
Simon sighs heavily, equal parts guilt and exasperation. "Mei-mei ... shouldn't
you be in dancing class right now?"
River shrugs. "I already know everything Li Ping could teach me anyway.
Besides, I'd rather have dinner with you."
"Would you now?" Simon asks, brow raised, smile tugging on the corners of his
mouth, and River knows she's forgiven for running away from her lessons. "So
where do you want to go?" he asks, even while he's suppressing a yawn, and
River feels full of love for her brother who would take her out without
complaint, just because she wants to, even if he's almost dead on his feet.
So she gets on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck, and his hands
come to rest on her back, gathering her close. She buries her nose in the soft
hollow right above his collar bone, inhaling the scent of disinfectants, green
tea, sweat and cologne, a smell she thinks she might very well be addicted to.
"I missed you", she whispers against his skin, and his arms tighten around her.
"I missed you too."
***
In the end, they just go back to Simon's place, ordering food from the dim sum
restaurant on Alliance Avenue, and River watches her brother's shoulders slump
down in relief when she suggests it. He still insists on sending a quick wave
to their parents, because he guesses correctly that she didn't tell anybody
when she left. She lowers her head when he asks, and makes what she thinks is a
rueful face, but she has a feeling that he can see straight through her, and
the idea makes her happier than it should.
They have dinner on the floor in Simon's living room, and later stretch out on
the thick, soft, expensive carpet, next to the low table that carries the
remains of their meal, platters filled with jiaozi, cheun gyun and wonton.
They are feeding each other pieces of fresh mango and lychee, River nudging
Simon's lips with her chopsticks again and again, Simon opening his mouth
obediently for her offerings, River watching his throat moving when he
swallows, making haochi noises for him as if she's talking to a baby, just to
see him smile.
She's right on her way to being tipsy, the mei jiu going to her head, although
Simon is measuring her drinks carefully and would never let her actually get
drunk; but it's enough to make her feel incredibly warm, and tingly, and even
more daring than usual.
"So how are things going with Orestes?" she asks, her head resting on his
chest, her fingers playing idly with the buttons of his vest. "Did you have
sex?"
"River!" he groans. "We are not talking about this!"
"So you did!" she states gleefully. "Did you like it?"
Simon scrunches his face up in indignation, in that way she finds so utterly
adorable and not intimidating at all, and she doesn't tell him that she thinks
about it, imagines it when she touches herself at night: Wonders what they must
look like, entwined in a passionate embrace; heated skin, sweat-slick and
flushed, limbs tangled and mouths curled around desperate moans.
"Come on, ge-ge, don't be like that", she begs, rubbing her head against his
shoulder like a cat that wants to be petted. "I need to know the dirty details.
And I'm counting on you writing me more in your letters while I'm away.
Otherwise, I just might die of boredom in the course of a week."
He grows tense under her, and she knows she's made a mistake. "I'm sure death
by boredom is not something you'll have to worry about," he finally says, but
the joy is gone from his voice.
She gets up on her elbow so that she can see his face. It's tense, and unhappy,
and she reaches out to caress his cheek. "Why are you so against me joining the
program?" she asks, because now that the mood is ruined, she might as well try
to find out.
"River ..." Simon sighs. "I'm not against it."
She raises an eyebrow, and he scowls. "I'm not", he insists. "It's just ..." He
hesitates. "I'm just worried. I've got a bad feeling about this."
He's seriously upset, and it scares her. Simon is not one to have bad feelings
and doubts; he prefers to believe in what he can prove, almost as devoted to
science and facts as she is herself. "Simon, why would you say that?"
He moves to sit up, trying to put some distance between them, but she doesn't
let him escape, just edges closer until he relents. She crawls into his lap,
nestles up against him, feels his heart beating hard and fast under her head.
"Don't you think it's strange that we never heard about this program before?"
he asks.
River shrugs. "It was supposed to be top secret."
Simon shakes his head. "But Father has connections. He should have known." He's
practically wringing his hands. "He always knows these things before anyone
else does."
Her hand is on his face again, gently moving down his cheek, curling around his
neck, squeezing lightly. "Maybe he did hear about it and just forgot. Maybe he
just didn't consider it important, because he didn't see any potential profit
in the information."
"Do you really believe that?" he asks, and she doesn't want to answer this
question. It's not as if she didn't think about it, because she did – did
wonder, did worry about the exact same things, flaws in an otherwise perfect
construct of persuasion. But there are explanations, good ones, too;
explanations she needs to believe in, because she needs this program – so much.
She wants to learn, so much more than what her tutors could ever teach her; has
to get away from the constriction of their parents' control; most of all, she
needs to prove to Simon that she's not a child, not his little sister anymore;
and she can't let those doubts take that chance away from her.
"Yes, I believe it", she says firmly, and instead of calling her out on her
lie, he closes his eyes and nods.
"I'm being stupid", he says. "I just don't want to lose you."
"You are not going to lose me", she says, shocked that he'd even think that,
wrapping herself around him, dropping little kisses on his head, his cheek, his
ear, like he did when she was little and afraid of the things moving in the
night. He relaxes into her touch, and then he turns his head towards her, maybe
to say something, or maybe not, and their lips just fit together; they slip
into the kiss, mouths open, eyes closed.
Simon tastes sweet, of plum wine and fruit, lips sticky with sugar and juice,
and she wants to eat him up; doesn't care about this being her first real kiss,
doesn't think about kissing at all, just licks into his mouth, craving for
more, swallowing greedily everything he offers.
They break apart finally, foreheads still pressed together, and Simon swallows
and shakes his head. "River, this is ......."
"Shh", she says, pressing her palm over his mouth, not wanting to hear all the
reasons why she can't have more of this. It would be such an unnecessary
conversation, anyway, an argument that cannot be won, because moral norms can
be justified, but not verified, and Simon knows that as well as she does. In
the end, it comes down to the question if Simon wants this, wants this as much
as she does, coming as close to melting together as they'll ever get, and she
is not worried about the answer. He always wants what makes her happy.
He reaches up to catch her wrist and moves her hand away from his face, holding
it in a firm grip. "You need to be sure", he says, and his eyes are dark and
fierce. "I need you to be sure."
"I'm leaving next week", she answers, free hand on his chest, over his heart.
"I'll be gone for years. Things will happen, and when they do, I want ...." She
looks up at him. "I want to know what it's supposed to feel like. I want you to
be first."
He breathes, and nods, and reaches out with only slightly shaking hands. She
shivers in anticipation when he touches her hair, combing the long strands with
gentle fingers, when his hands move lower, his touch leaving invisible traces
on her neck.
He slips her loose dress over her shoulders, revealing her bare chest, and she
blushes, feeling ashamed of her body for the first time in her life, her
scrawny torso, her barely existent breasts. She tries to cross her arms over
them, but Simon reaches out and pulls them away.
"Don't do that", he says, his hands like feathers on her skin. "They are
beautiful", he continues, voice full of awe, "like apple blossoms, just about
to open."
"You are such a sap", she chuckles, but she can't help the rush of heat, of
happiness at his words. He laughs quietly, and then he bends his head and bites
her nipple, and she chokes in surprise. He soothes the sting with a lick of his
tongue, then nips her again, and licks, and nips, and she feels it all over her
body, from the tips of her fingers down to her toes.
She surges up, tugging at his shirt until he lets go of her and helps her take
it off, and she runs her small hands over his skin, trying to feel every bone,
every muscle. She memorizes the firm planes of his pectorals, the soft,
vulnerable dip under his ribcage, the ripple of his abdomen – until he groans,
an almost painful sound, and takes control again, pressing her light, little
body into the carpet, descending on her.
***
River feels too old, most of the time, for the body she's living in; her mind
growing bored with people her own age within minutes, bored with most people
older than her, too; and it annoys her when adults still treat her like a
child, as if she wasn't able to outplay them in any challenge they might
suggest.
But here, in the shelter of Simon's body, strong and firm over her, she feels
young, yet completely safe, wrapped up in love like a child in the blankets of
its cradle. His hands on her skin feel nothing like her own, large and sure on
their way across her stomach, her hipbones, her thighs; his mouth sparking a
fire between her legs, when his tongue licks into her, thoroughly, fiercely, as
if he wants to hollow her out, swallow everything she is, leaving her empty
before he fills her again.
By the time he lifts her legs, lines up their hips, she is pliant and loose;
welcoming the sting she still feels when he enters her, wanting to take as much
of him as she can. He owned her since she was put into his arms as a newborn
for the first time, and now he possesses her, too, and it makes her almost sad
to know that nothing, nobody, will ever make her feel like this again.
A drop of sweat lands on her lips and their eyes lock as she licks it off; his
glance dark and intense, his voice unsteady when he whispers her name – and
suddenly, she can feel him: not just the heat of his skin, his sex spreading
her open, but his mind; she can feel his pleasure along with her own, sees
herself through his eyes, feels his love, his despair; and the sensation is so
strong that it pushes her over the edge, making her body shake violently, tense
up and relax, and she just barely feels him coming apart as well before she
slips away into unconsciousness.
***
She wakes alone, in Simon's large, luxurious bed, tangled up in soft pillows
and silky sheets. Through the window, she can see the Osiris morning sun
lightening Capital City in rosy shine, and she can hear soft noises coming from
the kitchen.
When she gets up, she discovers that she's wearing a shuiyi top that belongs to
Simon, far too big for her, hem covering her thighs, sleeves ending at her
fingertips. She feels slightly sore and hangover, but at the same time so
incredibly soft and light, and blurred around the edges. When she concentrates,
she can still feel Simon's presence lingering on the fringe of her mind, and
she wonders if from now on, it's always going to be like this.
Simon is busy making tea when she enters the kitchen, and she watches him from
the doorway. He's obviously had a shower, hair still slightly damp in the neck,
and he's fully dressed for a new day at work. His attempt to restore the
situation to normality makes her smile.
"Zao'an!" she greets, settling in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, still
watching him move across the room.
"How are you?" he asks, without looking at her, and she makes a point of
smiling at his back.
"I'm great", she says, demonstratively cheerfully. "I had a lovely night, and I
slept very well."
He keeps pouring water over the tea leaves, and only when he has set down the
cháhú, he raises his head to look at her. "You know that it can't happen
again", he says softly, eyes sad.
"I know", she nods, voice calm. She knows – knows that even if it was what he
wanted, he still feels guilty about what happened, and no arguing about social
constructions, about planets with different laws, about the lies of religion is
going to ease his mind.
She also knows that he'd do it again, if she begged him to - and she vows that
she'll try not to ask; at least not for a while.
"Will you come see me, before I leave?" she asks, and he looks honestly
surprised.
"Of course I will, mei-mei", he says. "I wouldn't let you leave without saying
goodbye."
"It's not goodbye, silly", she says. "It's not as if it is forever."
"Of course it's not", he says, but his hand is shaking when he pours the tea.
End Notes
     Chinese-English translations:
     mei-mei: Little sister
     jiaozi, wonton: Different kinds of dumplings, filled with meat and/or
     vegetables
     cheun gyun: Spring rolls
     haochi: Mmmh!; yummy
     mei jiu: Plum wine
     ge-ge: Big brother
     shuiyi: Pajama(s)
     zao'an!: Good morning!
     cháhú: Tea pot
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