Final Fantasy X-2: Speak Easy
The New Yevon headquarters in Kilika was a marvel, built well and designed with an eye toward Kilika's culture and craft community. Unfortunately, that was all being lost on him today. Baralai stared at the decorations gracing the space as the group of people he was with talked about something. He had lost the thread of the conversation long ago when it had turned toward members of the community rather than the dedication of the building. Baralai didn't wish to be rude, but he was restless—bored. It bothered him; he enjoyed his job on most occasions, and socializing was a part of that, but today he was simply edgy and couldn't pinpoint why. He wanted to leave, but as an invited guest and the one who had dedicated the building, he couldn't do so until the party broke up a little more.
The doors to the headquarters were thrown wide to the late afternoon breeze outside, leaving the path open to everyone who wanted to wander in. Baralai was proud that the various branches of New Yevon were doing more for the community than the party itself, and he hoped that the atmosphere present tonight would continue.
As he browsed across the party goers, his eyes caught on Gippal, who had come on the behalf of the Machine Faction—or for the free food. Baralai wasn't a fool, and knew Gippal hated politics. He was talking to a girl Baralai didn't recognize, leaning close to her. Baralai watched him gesture, his shirt twisting around him as he moved. Baralai blinked when his eyes burned; he shifted on his feet and turned back to his companions.
"Excuse me. I see someone I wish to speak with." He bowed, accepted the farewells and then moved toward Gippal, pressing through the pockets of people moving around.
"—aoac yna y payidevim lumun?" Gippal grinned as Baralai grew close enough to hear. "Nice and slow."
Baralai's stomach twisted as he came up on Gippal and his guest. He was caught off guard, not expecting to hear Gippal's voice drawl in that way, deep in a way it only was when he spoke Al Bhed or—Baralai flushed, but refused to look around to see if anyone was watching him make a fool of himself. He took a deep breath and wondered if it was a good idea to speak to Gippal right now—he'd only be torturing himself until they were able to leave. Maybe not even then, if the boat back to Luca was crowded, unless?
"Just use that, he'll be like putty in your hands." Gippal looked up in time to see Baralai through a gap in the passing crowd, and tossed up a hand in greeting. "Going to come over, or just stare?"
Baralai's knees were shaking as he approached, but his hand was steady when he greeted Gippal's guest. "Hello."
She flushed as she looked at him, and her hand was damp and warm. "Hi."
Gippal nudged her with his hip. "This is Calli." He winked at her. "Don't be scared of Baralai, he only looks intimidating." Gippal was all lazy arms and legs, disregarding his posture—and his hair was a mess, as well. Baralai knew these things should bother him, but they were only distracting him more. It took him only a few seconds to decide, and he knew he was out of his mind. He had been this way since Gippal had cornered him in the temple three weeks previous and put his hands everywhere. Baralai could pin the blame for this restlessness squarely on Gippal's shoulders.
"I'm afraid I need to borrow Gippal for a moment."
"Oh, sure, no problem," Calli said. "I was just heading out." She glanced at Gippal. "Thanks for the advice."
Baralai waited until she turned away, and then headed out of the crowd, trusting Gippal to follow him. They weaved through the throng of voices and bodies, and Baralai knew exactly where he was going—he had been shown earlier in the day during his tour. He was crazy, he should turn around, but he didn't—it was better to be honest with oneself. After all, there was no guarantee the boat back to Luca would offer any privacy at all.
"What's up?" Gippal fell into step beside him as they turned a corner and were taken into a hall along the edge of the building, narrow and deserted. They were on the opposite side of the building from sunset, and the space was shadowed. "You're being all mysterious, am I being shown some secrets of New Yevon?"
Baralai smiled. "New Yevon no longer keeps secrets."
"Right, you just keep preaching that." Gippal rubbed his head. "Seriously, where're we—whoa!" He almost lost his footing as Baralai stopped and tugged him through a half-open door, into an empty room. Baralai's boots sank into the carpets spread along the floor as he pulled Gippal after him. He shut the door with his foot and then shoved Gippal back against the wall to kiss him, desperate and hurried, licking air and shock out of Gippal's mouth.
Baralai could still hear the low murmur of the crowd they had left behind, but it was muffled compared to the harsh sound of Gippal's breathing. The room was dusty and dark and disused but Baralai didn't care; all he had wanted was a place to get his hands on Gippal. He wasn't going to be picky.
"Baralai—" Gippal's breath caught again as Baralai trailed his mouth across Gippal's jaw to his throat. He tugged the snap on Gippal's pants that didn't want to cooperate. "What—" Gippal groaned and shoved into Baralai's palm as Baralai mouthed his neck. "You're crazy," he said, before he started tugging at Baralai's robes, hands frantic.
Baralai shuddered and rested his head against Gippal's shoulder, trembling. "You were talking to—" Baralai took deep breaths as Gippal traced a hand onto Baralai's chest over his heart. Baralai sighed with the pleasure of Gippal's rough palms against his skin. "That girl."
Gippal cupped Baralai's neck with his other hand and pulled Baralai's mouth down to his, quick and hard. Gippal's lips curved against Baralai's mouth when he pulled back, breath hot on Baralai's face. "Jealous? Guess I should talk to more women."
Baralai was warring with himself; he hoped no one had seen them come in this specific room, but it was still dangerous. He didn't know what he had been thinking, except that it still seemed like an amazing idea. Gippal's pants finally parted under his fingers, so Baralai could slip his hand in, the edge of Gippal's loose belt scratching his arm—there was no going back now. "You should speak Al Bhed like that more often." Baralai was glad for the darkness as he said it, bold in a way he had never been before—he was surprised his voice didn't shake.
Gippal's head hit the wall as Baralai's hand closed around him. "What in the—speak Al Bhed?" He sounded confused, but swelled under Baralai's palm regardless.
"To me." He stroked up once, as slow as he could, and licked the jumping pulse on Gippal's neck, smiling when he felt the flush of Gippal's skin against his lips. "To me, Gippal. Right now."
Gippal shuddered and arched into Baralai's fist, but followed directions. "Fru yna oui, yht fryd ryja oui tuha fedr Baralai?" Buckles rattled and tapped against the wall as he rocked up, breath coming in quick gasps. He fell silent and Baralai stopped, moving back to almost press their mouths together, his lips hovering.
"Keep talking," he said, feeling turned on and dirty and amazing, all at once. He could do this—ask this. Gippal would let him, and trust him, and it made Baralai's head spin.
"So—oui'na hidc, frah tet drec cdynd—" Gippal pressed his forehead to Baralai's. The leather of his eye-patch was worn and warm on Baralai's skin as Baralai traced his tongue along Gippal's lips. Gippal moaned as Baralai squeezed and slid a now-slick hand back and forth and ignored the quick nudges of Gippal's hips, hints to go faster. "Oui'na y dayc—"
Baralai twisted his fingers and Gippal's words were lost amid incoherent noises that could have been anything. Baralai's blood was racing in his ears, and he wished it wasn't dark so he could see Gippal falling to pieces under his hand.
"Ev oui cdub—" Gippal's voice skipped, words mixing with quick, soft moans. "'Lai, 'Lai, bmayca—" His voice went deeper, to the tone that made Baralai's whole body ache. The words fell from Gippal's mouth faster, unintelligible and run-together. Baralai quickened his pace, Gippal's hips meeting him on every stroke, easy and comfortable as he cried out and gripped any part of Baralai had could reach. Baralai pressed their mouths together as Gippal spilled over his hand, back arching off the wall, trapping Baralai's arm between them.
Gippal's voice was still shaky, no hint of joking present that Baralai could hear. "You've lost it." He leaned forward to rest his head on Baralai's shoulder, breath warming the fabric as Baralai wiped his hand on his belt. He would have to remember to take it off before he left the room.
"Perhaps." Gippal ran hands down his sides, almost a tickle, but Baralai could feel the tremble in them even as Gippal squeezed his clothes.
"Not that I'm complaining but—" Gippal leaned back, and Baralai knew if it wasn't pitch-black he would be getting that look Gippal gave things that intrigued him. "You do know there's about a hundred people out there."
Baralai laughed. "I'm living on the edge. Aren't you always lecturing me?"
Gippal was quick, and Baralai didn't expect it so he had the breath knocked out of him when his back met the wall. Gippal pressed a kiss to Baralai's mouth before sliding to his knees, and Baralai gaped down into darkness as Gippal tugged at his pants. "Gippal?" Baralai's legs were shaking, but Gippal only snorted and pressed his mouth to Baralai's bare hip.
"Glad you've finally decided to get with me in hands on research." Gippal's voice was full of laughter as he made Baralai arch forward. "Or something like it."
Story Notes for Speak Easy
This was born in the comments to Missing the Sun in which I talked with a reader about how Baralai and Gippal might like each other's voices. That eventually led to a drabble titled The Sound of Want:
Gippal pressed Baralai against the wall of the temple, arms on either side of Baralai's head.
"Gippal—there's business I need to attend to."
Gippal only grinned, and slid in closer. "That was a pretty impressive speech you gave those monks. Very...rousing."
Baralai didn't care for the look on Gippal's face, because it only meant trouble. "...I thought you didn't care for politics."
"Never said I did." Gippal moved his hand and tangled a fist in Baralai's hair. "Maybe I should come listen to you give speeches more often." Gippal barely brushed his lips across Baralai's jaw, making him shiver. "You're good at your job. I'm...roused."
"I see." Baralai fought a smile.
"You've got no clue how you sound." Gippal's voice went low, and Baralai didn't get a chance to respond before he was kissed, tugged down into the familiar feel of Gippal's mouth on his. Gippal kissed him quick and desperate and hurried, burying his other hand in Baralai's hair. Baralai's head spun with the force of it all, but he recovered enough to grasp Gippal's arms and flip them. He pinned Gippal against the wall, trembling at the noise Gippal made before he kissed back, meeting Gippal's pace.
When he pushed back, Gippal leaned his head back against the wall, and took deep breaths. He didn't speak, and Baralai was floored—he laughed.
"Perhaps I should invite you to more of my speeches," he said, and was pleased when Gippal grinned.
The rest was porny history. Thanks to MB for beta.