Mal doesn't care much for snow. Especially after tracking Saffron down to that icy little rock she'd flown to, after leaving him and his crew to die.

At heart he was still a ranch boy and where he was born it was mostly sunny, or rainy, or drenched by heavy, blinding, pounding rain, but never snow. It was cold, and wet, and too light and pretty. Mal was all fire, passion, and light, too harsh and rough to be pretty to look at. Interesting maybe, or fuckable, not pretty.

Simon, the captain muses, was snow. All pale and pretty. Distant, intellectual. He pushes those thoughts aside; storing them with the half remembered dreams he has sometimes and rogue visions of shirtless Simon. Then they land on Lorelei in the middle of winter, and only Simon ventures outside.

Mal watches half hidden in Serenity's bay door, seeing how happy Simon looks for once, and how his dark coat, blues eyes and raven black hair stand out amidst all the white, and marveling at how unbelievably gorgeous he looks. "Snow angel."

Startled Mal looks behind him, to see River, stealthy as ever, has sneaked up behind him. "Spun of silver and cold. Always liked the snow, before." Mal started to say something but River leaned forward, her gestures still to juvenile for her body, her eyes big and full of the unexplained glee that River sometimes had. "He has dreams too, you know" she winked and bounced away.

Mal thought he should be embarrassed that Simon's little sister knew that Mal sometimes had dirty dreams about her brother. But she'd said Simon had thoughts too. And he looked so happy on the frozen ground, flecks of snow caught on his eyelashes that Mal stepped on the ramp and onto crunchy ice crystals without much thought.

Simon turns to him and says "Captain. didn't think you'd venture outside" the captain thinks that the words are a prefect example of prim and proper Simon, but for once the words have a smile in them. Mal just says "Yeah, well, you made it seem fun" a goofy grin spreads across Simon's face, and he says, "When I was little, it used to snow every December. River and I used to make snow angels in our back yard and play all day until we were called inside." he smiles again and Mal does too, because happy Simon is so rare that he's contagious. Before he even fully realized that Simon has asked him to do something, they're both on their backs in the snow, trying their best to make the white powder look like an angel. Mal thinks it's stupid, because Simon is already angelic, but it is kind of fun. Then Simon turns to him and says "You know what else we used to do?" before pressing a handful of snow into Mal's face and running off.

Mal yells and chases after him, and soon both of them are screeching and laughing and chucking snow at each other. Until Mal tries to tackle Simon and they fall and roll around and all of a sudden they stop. Simon is on top of Mal, they're both breathing heavily, and the childish mood turns into something very adult. Simon's gaze flickers down to Mal's lips, before he turns his blue eyes to match Mal's own blue spheres. "Hi" he says. "Hey yourself" Mal answers and lifts is head a bit. then Simon is kissing him, and Mal knows he should protest, say something about complications, but as soon as he opens his mouth full of the older Tam's tongue and Wo de tian a who knew that the good doctor could do that with that cute little mouth of his. Then Simon pulls away, and Mal is surprised to hear himself whine a little. Simon's eyes dart everywhere, and Mal realizes the kid isn't sure if Mal hates him now. To answer that, he pulls the doctor back for another kiss. That falls seamlessly into another kiss, and another, then through the cargo bay and into Mal's bedroom.

Mal isn't sure of everything because he feels oddly like he's floating, or as if he'd drunk one too many cups of good rice wine. Then he's sitting on his bed shirtless, with his feet on the floor, knees spread to let Simon stand, also shirtless, between them. He's looking at Mal like he's something incredibly beautiful, like a priceless painting, his right hand warm on Mal's left shoulder. Mal reaches up with a tentative right hand that lands just above Simon's left nipple. As soon as Mal's contact happens Simon hisses softly, and Mal wonders if his hands are still cold from their trip outside. Then Simon is pushing him back onto the mattress, and all he can feel is the weight of Simon, his smell, his touch. Both their pants fall away, almost as if by magic.

And Mal softly flips them so Simon is under him, and he maps out Simon's body with his hand and nails and teeth and tongue. Simon tastes of something intoxicating and elegant like wine, and sweet and sensual like honey. Simon moans responsively, and spreads his legs, and Mal wonders why he ever thought he might be the first. But it doesn't matter, because Mal bites a pattern onto Simon's right hip, because the doctor belongs to him now.

Then Mal reaches for the lube he keeps under the bed, and before long he's pushing softly into Simon whose right Mal's name and oh god, over and over again. Then when Mal begins to thrust in earnest he says the first thing he's said since they reached his bunk. "Say my name baby. Say you're mine" at first Simon just moans, then he starts "God, Mal, all yours, just please- keep- oh, Mal" he's moaning by the end. Mal brings their bodies as close together as he can, and thrusts faster and harder, but not enough to hurt Simon. Then Simon's coming, filling what little space is left between them with hot white liquid, and Mal feels a wonderful burning blankness as he too falls. Then Mal rolls of Simon and hit the stretch of bed beside him.

They just lay there for a while, catching their breath, until Simon shifts off his back onto his side and snuggles into Mal's chest. Mal puts a weary arm around him and breathes in the scent of Simon's hair then he says "You are not leaving my bed, ever." Simon chuckles "What if you get shot?" Mal grins "Guess you could get out of bed for that." Simon smiles at Mal "What if Jayne gets shot?" Mal pretends to think it over. "Naw." then he kisses Simon again, just lips and lips, then presses their foreheads together.

They settle back down and start to drift of to sleep. Just before he gives in to the shadows of sleep around the edge of his brain, Mal has time for one coherent thought. Snow was the shiniest thing in the verse.