B5 Fic: Lip-reading (1/1)
Took me bloody ages to do this. Ach, well.
LIP-READING
Summary: Londo / G'Kar kissage.
Spoilers: The Fall of Centauri Prime.
A/N: Eons ago, Andraste said - Centauri males don't generally kiss other males. I ran with it.
Thanks to: This was betaed by many people, who took out the suckiest bits. My love to you all. *snuggles*
*
Afterwards, G'Kar wondered at how slowly they had managed to do something that should only have taken a minute or two. Londo, however, had appeared so completely taken aback to have G'Kar encroach upon his personal space that the Narn could do nothing but savour the moment, stretching it out for as long as possible.
*
That Mollari should watch him when he is speaking should be no great surprise. That Mollari should watch his mouth form words, however, is unexpected. G'Kar once thought that the Centauri had trouble with English and could no more follow a conversation without reading lips than he could eliminate his own thick accent. Indeed, when G'Kar had first begun his study of the language, he had found it infuriatingly vague, losing vowels and consonants as the mood took it. To someone accustomed to brevity, clarity and a firm command of the tongue, English was a debauched, hedonistic language, more nuanced and difficult to master than Interlac and Andronato combined.
In truth, this is the reason G'Kar has discounted 'problems with the language' as a possible explanation for the Centauri's curious manner. Surely someone as accustomed to a tongue as fluid as any number of the Centauri's native languages would have no trouble with English. Surely, it belatedly occurred to G'Kar, the Ambassador would also watch other races, other males, other Narn, when they spoke. G'Kar's accent was slight, unlike Delenn's. G'Kar's speech was formal, unlike Mr Allen's colloquialisms. G'Kar's mouth - and this he checked in the mirror - was careful to enunciate and articulate and generally form words as clearly as a Narn mouth could manage the process. No; there were many more suitable candidates for Mollari to stare at for elucidation, his own mouth partly open as if mouthing the words along.
It was only when it was late - one instant before it would be too late - that G'Kar realised what the quick glances represented. Ah, he thought, bemused. The light dawns slowly, I see.
*
Outside, Centauri Prime is burning.
G'Kar felt no joy at this thought; he drew no succour from the knowledge that it was his own people raining down such vengeance as he had never seen before.
It is the last. He knows this.
"Mollari. Understand that I can never forgive your people for what they did to my world," he said quietly. Londo started slightly, eyes flickering away from G'Kar's steady gaze down to the mouth that slowly, inexorably, forming word after damning word. There is something intrinsically sadistic in this, G'Kar thought, oddly saddened by the thought. Not cruel, not selfish, but sadistic, waiting for the softest part of the flesh to be exposed before delivering the misericorde, as the humans would say.
It is sweet on his tongue, thick and cloying and unyielding, and he wonders - not for the first time - why all their revelations must come like this, with one of them broken and bleeding.
His leg aches from standing.
"My people can never forgive your people," and one moment - two -; stretching out each heartbeat, watching Londo's gaze drop even further; fixed, at last, on the floor.
And with these few words I can strip you, Mollari, he thought.
He cannot hear himself say the next word or the next over the roaring in his ears. It is as if his heart would drown them, water over smooth stone, as simple and ordinary as the truth. Londo's gaze is sliding over him in scattered flicks and glances, unable to stay fixed on G'Kar's eyes or mouth or hands. Much good it would do me if he manages it; then I shall be the one to turn away.
*
Some things are not meant to be said until the last. You do not grant forgiveness on a whim; you do not let spilt blood go unanswered; you do not - you do not - you do not until the last.
*
It is the last now, is it not? G'Kar's heart is pounding in his chest and he cannot focus on the words or on the feeling behind them, merely the fear weighting down his tongue.
It is the last, and it is terrifying.
This is the last time they will see each other before the end. G'Kar knows this because Londo knows it, because Londo has known this before the two ever met. It was as clear in his mind those years ago as it will be when it finally occurs.
Lies, the Khari said, when the Citizens asked about Centauri dreams. It is all lies.
The Centauri are not prescient, merely self-important! They can no more see the future than they can grow wings and fly!
Such pretty lies.
*
His skin is too soft to bear.
One heartbeat - two heartbeats - three heartbeats - Londo's breath comes from him in shuddering little gasps of air, both hands reaching inside G'Kar's collar to brace themselves against flesh. His nails are short and sharp and they scratch gently as those soft hands wander, curving up around G'Kar's neck and stroking the nape, ghosting across the outline of hollows and ridges with inquisitive fingertips. It is a sensitive place to touch a Narn and G'Kar shivers involuntarily, the movement running through his entire body.
His leg aches indomitably, but he can spare it no thought. All his attention is focused on the arm he braces against the polished wood of the closed door; on the hands at his neck; on the curiously sad expression on Londo's face.
They have still not touched lips. Instead, their mouths hover, one against other, and - yes, the Centauri was looking down again, staring at G'Kar's mouth as if it held all the secrets of the universe.
It is part taunt and part mercy for G'Kar to lean in, kissing Londo's lower lip, licking across his mouth in an ungentle kiss.
Open for me.
The hands on his flesh press down, palms open; as smooth as water over stone.
*
fin
LIP-READING
Summary: Londo / G'Kar kissage.
Spoilers: The Fall of Centauri Prime.
A/N: Eons ago, Andraste said - Centauri males don't generally kiss other males. I ran with it.
Thanks to: This was betaed by many people, who took out the suckiest bits. My love to you all. *snuggles*
*
Afterwards, G'Kar wondered at how slowly they had managed to do something that should only have taken a minute or two. Londo, however, had appeared so completely taken aback to have G'Kar encroach upon his personal space that the Narn could do nothing but savour the moment, stretching it out for as long as possible.
*
That Mollari should watch him when he is speaking should be no great surprise. That Mollari should watch his mouth form words, however, is unexpected. G'Kar once thought that the Centauri had trouble with English and could no more follow a conversation without reading lips than he could eliminate his own thick accent. Indeed, when G'Kar had first begun his study of the language, he had found it infuriatingly vague, losing vowels and consonants as the mood took it. To someone accustomed to brevity, clarity and a firm command of the tongue, English was a debauched, hedonistic language, more nuanced and difficult to master than Interlac and Andronato combined.
In truth, this is the reason G'Kar has discounted 'problems with the language' as a possible explanation for the Centauri's curious manner. Surely someone as accustomed to a tongue as fluid as any number of the Centauri's native languages would have no trouble with English. Surely, it belatedly occurred to G'Kar, the Ambassador would also watch other races, other males, other Narn, when they spoke. G'Kar's accent was slight, unlike Delenn's. G'Kar's speech was formal, unlike Mr Allen's colloquialisms. G'Kar's mouth - and this he checked in the mirror - was careful to enunciate and articulate and generally form words as clearly as a Narn mouth could manage the process. No; there were many more suitable candidates for Mollari to stare at for elucidation, his own mouth partly open as if mouthing the words along.
It was only when it was late - one instant before it would be too late - that G'Kar realised what the quick glances represented. Ah, he thought, bemused. The light dawns slowly, I see.
*
Outside, Centauri Prime is burning.
G'Kar felt no joy at this thought; he drew no succour from the knowledge that it was his own people raining down such vengeance as he had never seen before.
It is the last. He knows this.
"Mollari. Understand that I can never forgive your people for what they did to my world," he said quietly. Londo started slightly, eyes flickering away from G'Kar's steady gaze down to the mouth that slowly, inexorably, forming word after damning word. There is something intrinsically sadistic in this, G'Kar thought, oddly saddened by the thought. Not cruel, not selfish, but sadistic, waiting for the softest part of the flesh to be exposed before delivering the misericorde, as the humans would say.
It is sweet on his tongue, thick and cloying and unyielding, and he wonders - not for the first time - why all their revelations must come like this, with one of them broken and bleeding.
His leg aches from standing.
"My people can never forgive your people," and one moment - two -; stretching out each heartbeat, watching Londo's gaze drop even further; fixed, at last, on the floor.
And with these few words I can strip you, Mollari, he thought.
He cannot hear himself say the next word or the next over the roaring in his ears. It is as if his heart would drown them, water over smooth stone, as simple and ordinary as the truth. Londo's gaze is sliding over him in scattered flicks and glances, unable to stay fixed on G'Kar's eyes or mouth or hands. Much good it would do me if he manages it; then I shall be the one to turn away.
*
Some things are not meant to be said until the last. You do not grant forgiveness on a whim; you do not let spilt blood go unanswered; you do not - you do not - you do not until the last.
*
It is the last now, is it not? G'Kar's heart is pounding in his chest and he cannot focus on the words or on the feeling behind them, merely the fear weighting down his tongue.
It is the last, and it is terrifying.
This is the last time they will see each other before the end. G'Kar knows this because Londo knows it, because Londo has known this before the two ever met. It was as clear in his mind those years ago as it will be when it finally occurs.
Lies, the Khari said, when the Citizens asked about Centauri dreams. It is all lies.
The Centauri are not prescient, merely self-important! They can no more see the future than they can grow wings and fly!
Such pretty lies.
*
His skin is too soft to bear.
One heartbeat - two heartbeats - three heartbeats - Londo's breath comes from him in shuddering little gasps of air, both hands reaching inside G'Kar's collar to brace themselves against flesh. His nails are short and sharp and they scratch gently as those soft hands wander, curving up around G'Kar's neck and stroking the nape, ghosting across the outline of hollows and ridges with inquisitive fingertips. It is a sensitive place to touch a Narn and G'Kar shivers involuntarily, the movement running through his entire body.
His leg aches indomitably, but he can spare it no thought. All his attention is focused on the arm he braces against the polished wood of the closed door; on the hands at his neck; on the curiously sad expression on Londo's face.
They have still not touched lips. Instead, their mouths hover, one against other, and - yes, the Centauri was looking down again, staring at G'Kar's mouth as if it held all the secrets of the universe.
It is part taunt and part mercy for G'Kar to lean in, kissing Londo's lower lip, licking across his mouth in an ungentle kiss.
Open for me.
The hands on his flesh press down, palms open; as smooth as water over stone.
*
fin