(Disney) Skin Deep
February 3rd, 2011 19:31![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Skin Deep
Fandom: Disney (The Princess And The Frog)
Pairing: Lawrence/Naveen
Rating: PG
Words: 1729
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_men, prompt "mirror".
Summary: Frog in a jar, prince in the mirror.
Prince Naveen may have been spoiled beyond all belief, but his bad moods were actually few and far between. He rarely took anything seriously enough to allow it to upset him, never particularly cared for dwelling on the negative. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum since he was a child, for which Lawrence was eternally grateful. It was one of the few of the prince’s personality quirks that made his job a little easier rather than infinitely harder.
Apparently Naveen was making up for lost time.
Lawrence paced the length of the room, hands clenching and unclenching restlessly. The string of creative curses Naveen was muttering in his native tongue swirled together in his ears as a jumble of syllables and anger and wrongwrongwrong. All wrong, and he couldn’t be doing this, he’d get caught, he’d be found out.
Lawrence wasn’t a criminal. Of course he wasn’t. He was an upstanding gentlemen’s gentleman. He couldn’t do this - he’d simply let Naveen go, let that Shadow Man take the blame. The man had magic on his side, surely it would be easy enough to pretend that he’d simply been enchanted and not in his right mind.
“I promise, Lawrence, if you let me out of here…”
Ah, back to bribery. Lawrence recognised that tone, smooth and silky and full of promise. He’d heard it far too many times; used on women with a flush to their cheeks, men with anger in their eyes, even used on the king and queen themselves before they grew immune to it.
Lawrence was immune to it, too. Granted, that tone had never sounded quite so strained before, almost desperate in a way only those closest to Naveen would be able to detect. Still, the words were hollow and well-worn.
What could Naveen possibly promise him? To forget the incident, to sweep it under a rug? No, Lawrence already knew it was too late, that this would hover over him like a storm cloud for the rest of his days. Obvious and ominous, the scent of betrayal. To reward him, to shower him with money? They both knew that was a lie, the reason they found themselves in their current predicament. There was no money, and if Naveen really thought the promise of wealth they both knew he didn’t possess was enough to sway Lawrence then he was more of a fool than even Lawrence could ever have thought him.
It was an insult, really. So blatant a lie. So demeaning, so insincere, and Naveen’s words were drowned out by the anger Lawrence felt ringing in his ears.
“Do shut up!” he snapped before he even realised the words were bubbling in his throat.
Naveen blinked at him through unfamiliar eyes, startled, and fell silent.
Well, that was different. Obedience. Who knew Naveen was capable of it?
It was honestly a little dizzying, looking at Naveen in that body. Small and fragile, staring at him through the glass jar with a wariness and tension that Lawrence could still somehow recognise.
He had to turn away, guilt thick as honey but with none of the sweetness coating his insides and making it difficult to swallow.
His gaze fell on the mirror quite accidentally.
Naveen’s face stared back at him, eyebrows drawn tight over his eyes and teeth marks in his lower lip. Eyes huge and glassy.
Naveen’s face, yet not Naveen at all. He looked almost … vulnerable.
Lawrence couldn’t recall Naveen ever looking such a way.
He tilted his head slightly, watched his reflection mimic the action. All too aware that he was the one controlling the actions, and yet not quite registering the reflection as himself. Still too difficult to accept, too confusing to be real.
Naveen’s eyes were changing as he watched, the look of a cornered animal slowly melting into something more curious.
Naveen really was handsome. Lawrence had noticed as such, of course he had, how could he not? Naveen wore his looks with pride, revelled in them, invited others to stare at him. Lawrence, however, had not stared. At least not in the way he currently found himself doing. So strange, to be the same height as Naveen, to stare into his eyes from the same level.
“Please stop that!”
Lawrence lurched a little, wobbling as he realised one foot was raised from the ground, poised as if to step closer to the mirror.
He wrenched his gaze away, turned to the jar and the frog inside, belatedly registering the slight shrillness of Naveen’s voice.
Naveen’s eyes were narrowed, full of anger even as his gaze flickered enquiringly over Lawrence’s face. Naveen’s face, technically. It must be just as strange for Naveen to be having this conversation with himself, Lawrence mused distractedly.
“I was simply trying to familiarise myself with the, er, situation,” Lawrence said as firmly as he could. He could feel his face heating up under the accusation in Naveen’s eyes, and it only stoked his anger. He was the prince now. He was the one in charge, the one with the power. Naveen was nothing but a helpless animal.
He could only guess something had changed in his expression because Naveen bristled, fidgeting in the jar. Was Naveen recognising Lawrence behind his own face or was he reading Lawrence’s mood through familiarity with his own expressions?
Interesting, he’d never seen a frog bare its teeth before.
He clucked his tongue, turned back to the mirror, ignored the warning as Naveen hissed his name.
The Naveen of his reflection stared back at him with his chin raised and a determined fire in his eyes.
Pride. Some days Lawrence could barely remember what pride felt like. But it looked natural on Naveen’s face, suited him, and Lawrence raised an eyebrow, watched Naveen’s eyebrow raise as if in answer. Lawrence squared his jaw, admired the angle as Naveen did the same in the mirror. Raised his hand and raked it through luxuriously thick hair and the look on the reflection’s face was both delighted and overwhelmed. Amber eyes darkened, full lips curved, and Lawrence knew that flash of teeth all too well. The look of Naveen as he delighted in chasing the few women who played hard to get, the confidence in knowing their resistance would not last in the face of his charms.
Lawrence could never own such an expression. Surely on him it would look out of place and deceitful. But Naveen only smiled back at him from the mirror, a smile full of promise.
Yes, Lawrence could wear that expression now. He could wear any expression he wanted and all those who saw him would see it filtered through Naveen’s face. They, men and women alike, would react to him the way they reacted to Naveen.
The smile in the mirror was changing into something far more wicked.
Lawrence could feel the skin under his fingers, feel his hand moving, but the hand that caressed Naveen’s face in the mirror seemed so different to his own. A strong hand, long fingers, the barest tickle of a blunt fingernail scraping over his bottom lip, and he watched Naveen shiver. Watched eyelashes flutter. Watched the barest hint of tongue swipe along that bottom lip without thought.
People would see this. People would look at Lawrence, but they would be seeing the contents of the mirror.
They would be seeing the invitation so blatant in Naveen’s eyes.
Breathing seemed to be growing more difficult.
Naveen’s hand slipped lower, palm sliding slowly down his neck. Resting there a moment, rising and falling as he swallowed thickly. Not Lawrence. All Naveen. Lawrence couldn’t be controlling the contents of the mirror. Lawrence would never be so daring. So brazen. He could only watch as fingertips carefully eased themselves under the collar of Naveen’s shirt…
“Please stop.”
Naveen. The real Naveen. His voice again, only quieter this time. Careful, a little cracked. Nervous.
Lawrence jerked backwards, completely baffled for the longest of moments to hear Naveen’s voice without the movement of the reflection’s lips. Forgetting himself, forgetting that he wasn’t alone, forgetting that the young man he’d been charged with supervising was currently his prisoner.
Lord, he had forgotten himself so completely, hadn’t he? Forgotten the reality and it felt cold and overbearing as it washed back down upon him.
Naveen was still watching him from the jar, only he was crowded backwards against the glass behind him, mouth pressed tightly closed.
Was it possible for a frog to look pale?
There was an ice in Lawrence’s belly, a nagging and horrible feeling. What must that have looked like? Standing there, running hands over himself like that. So easy to take it the wrong way, and it didn’t matter that Lawrence had no idea what the correct way to take it may have been. Didn’t understand this feeling in the air, didn’t understand the way his throat burned where his fingers had touched.
Where was Dr. Facilier? Lawrence couldn’t do this alone. With the Shadow Man nearby it all seemed possible, easy even, but alone it seemed monumentally huge, and Lawrence could feel his throat constricting, could feel himself panting for breath.
Air.
Of course, air.
No wonder Naveen looked so pale.
“You can’t get enough oxygen!” Lawrence blurted out, rounding on the jar, trying to ignore the call of the mirror. Naveen’s reflection was there. Waiting for him.
The frog looked up at him, head tilted in what seemed almost like confusion for a long moment, before it surged into motion. Gasping and shaking and groaning and clawing at the lid with webbed feet, constant muttered litany of “can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe.”
Lawrence nodded furiously. The mirror seemed to glint in his peripheral vision.
He couldn’t let Naveen suffer, after all. He was an upstanding gentlemen’s gentleman. He’d ensure the boy was at least comfortable, and then slip away to some privacy with his thoughts. Perhaps he could find a nearby washroom.
The Naveen in the jar gasped feebly, frantically indicating its mouth and chest.
Perhaps the washroom would contain a mirror.
Lawrence fought the slow smile he could feel spreading across his face, imagined how it would look to see the same smile spread across Naveen’s face as he reached for the jar. He only had to loosen the lid ever so slightly, and then he’d be on his way.
Fandom: Disney (The Princess And The Frog)
Pairing: Lawrence/Naveen
Rating: PG
Words: 1729
Notes: For
100_men, prompt "mirror".Summary: Frog in a jar, prince in the mirror.
Prince Naveen may have been spoiled beyond all belief, but his bad moods were actually few and far between. He rarely took anything seriously enough to allow it to upset him, never particularly cared for dwelling on the negative. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum since he was a child, for which Lawrence was eternally grateful. It was one of the few of the prince’s personality quirks that made his job a little easier rather than infinitely harder.
Apparently Naveen was making up for lost time.
Lawrence paced the length of the room, hands clenching and unclenching restlessly. The string of creative curses Naveen was muttering in his native tongue swirled together in his ears as a jumble of syllables and anger and wrongwrongwrong. All wrong, and he couldn’t be doing this, he’d get caught, he’d be found out.
Lawrence wasn’t a criminal. Of course he wasn’t. He was an upstanding gentlemen’s gentleman. He couldn’t do this - he’d simply let Naveen go, let that Shadow Man take the blame. The man had magic on his side, surely it would be easy enough to pretend that he’d simply been enchanted and not in his right mind.
“I promise, Lawrence, if you let me out of here…”
Ah, back to bribery. Lawrence recognised that tone, smooth and silky and full of promise. He’d heard it far too many times; used on women with a flush to their cheeks, men with anger in their eyes, even used on the king and queen themselves before they grew immune to it.
Lawrence was immune to it, too. Granted, that tone had never sounded quite so strained before, almost desperate in a way only those closest to Naveen would be able to detect. Still, the words were hollow and well-worn.
What could Naveen possibly promise him? To forget the incident, to sweep it under a rug? No, Lawrence already knew it was too late, that this would hover over him like a storm cloud for the rest of his days. Obvious and ominous, the scent of betrayal. To reward him, to shower him with money? They both knew that was a lie, the reason they found themselves in their current predicament. There was no money, and if Naveen really thought the promise of wealth they both knew he didn’t possess was enough to sway Lawrence then he was more of a fool than even Lawrence could ever have thought him.
It was an insult, really. So blatant a lie. So demeaning, so insincere, and Naveen’s words were drowned out by the anger Lawrence felt ringing in his ears.
“Do shut up!” he snapped before he even realised the words were bubbling in his throat.
Naveen blinked at him through unfamiliar eyes, startled, and fell silent.
Well, that was different. Obedience. Who knew Naveen was capable of it?
It was honestly a little dizzying, looking at Naveen in that body. Small and fragile, staring at him through the glass jar with a wariness and tension that Lawrence could still somehow recognise.
He had to turn away, guilt thick as honey but with none of the sweetness coating his insides and making it difficult to swallow.
His gaze fell on the mirror quite accidentally.
Naveen’s face stared back at him, eyebrows drawn tight over his eyes and teeth marks in his lower lip. Eyes huge and glassy.
Naveen’s face, yet not Naveen at all. He looked almost … vulnerable.
Lawrence couldn’t recall Naveen ever looking such a way.
He tilted his head slightly, watched his reflection mimic the action. All too aware that he was the one controlling the actions, and yet not quite registering the reflection as himself. Still too difficult to accept, too confusing to be real.
Naveen’s eyes were changing as he watched, the look of a cornered animal slowly melting into something more curious.
Naveen really was handsome. Lawrence had noticed as such, of course he had, how could he not? Naveen wore his looks with pride, revelled in them, invited others to stare at him. Lawrence, however, had not stared. At least not in the way he currently found himself doing. So strange, to be the same height as Naveen, to stare into his eyes from the same level.
“Please stop that!”
Lawrence lurched a little, wobbling as he realised one foot was raised from the ground, poised as if to step closer to the mirror.
He wrenched his gaze away, turned to the jar and the frog inside, belatedly registering the slight shrillness of Naveen’s voice.
Naveen’s eyes were narrowed, full of anger even as his gaze flickered enquiringly over Lawrence’s face. Naveen’s face, technically. It must be just as strange for Naveen to be having this conversation with himself, Lawrence mused distractedly.
“I was simply trying to familiarise myself with the, er, situation,” Lawrence said as firmly as he could. He could feel his face heating up under the accusation in Naveen’s eyes, and it only stoked his anger. He was the prince now. He was the one in charge, the one with the power. Naveen was nothing but a helpless animal.
He could only guess something had changed in his expression because Naveen bristled, fidgeting in the jar. Was Naveen recognising Lawrence behind his own face or was he reading Lawrence’s mood through familiarity with his own expressions?
Interesting, he’d never seen a frog bare its teeth before.
He clucked his tongue, turned back to the mirror, ignored the warning as Naveen hissed his name.
The Naveen of his reflection stared back at him with his chin raised and a determined fire in his eyes.
Pride. Some days Lawrence could barely remember what pride felt like. But it looked natural on Naveen’s face, suited him, and Lawrence raised an eyebrow, watched Naveen’s eyebrow raise as if in answer. Lawrence squared his jaw, admired the angle as Naveen did the same in the mirror. Raised his hand and raked it through luxuriously thick hair and the look on the reflection’s face was both delighted and overwhelmed. Amber eyes darkened, full lips curved, and Lawrence knew that flash of teeth all too well. The look of Naveen as he delighted in chasing the few women who played hard to get, the confidence in knowing their resistance would not last in the face of his charms.
Lawrence could never own such an expression. Surely on him it would look out of place and deceitful. But Naveen only smiled back at him from the mirror, a smile full of promise.
Yes, Lawrence could wear that expression now. He could wear any expression he wanted and all those who saw him would see it filtered through Naveen’s face. They, men and women alike, would react to him the way they reacted to Naveen.
The smile in the mirror was changing into something far more wicked.
Lawrence could feel the skin under his fingers, feel his hand moving, but the hand that caressed Naveen’s face in the mirror seemed so different to his own. A strong hand, long fingers, the barest tickle of a blunt fingernail scraping over his bottom lip, and he watched Naveen shiver. Watched eyelashes flutter. Watched the barest hint of tongue swipe along that bottom lip without thought.
People would see this. People would look at Lawrence, but they would be seeing the contents of the mirror.
They would be seeing the invitation so blatant in Naveen’s eyes.
Breathing seemed to be growing more difficult.
Naveen’s hand slipped lower, palm sliding slowly down his neck. Resting there a moment, rising and falling as he swallowed thickly. Not Lawrence. All Naveen. Lawrence couldn’t be controlling the contents of the mirror. Lawrence would never be so daring. So brazen. He could only watch as fingertips carefully eased themselves under the collar of Naveen’s shirt…
“Please stop.”
Naveen. The real Naveen. His voice again, only quieter this time. Careful, a little cracked. Nervous.
Lawrence jerked backwards, completely baffled for the longest of moments to hear Naveen’s voice without the movement of the reflection’s lips. Forgetting himself, forgetting that he wasn’t alone, forgetting that the young man he’d been charged with supervising was currently his prisoner.
Lord, he had forgotten himself so completely, hadn’t he? Forgotten the reality and it felt cold and overbearing as it washed back down upon him.
Naveen was still watching him from the jar, only he was crowded backwards against the glass behind him, mouth pressed tightly closed.
Was it possible for a frog to look pale?
There was an ice in Lawrence’s belly, a nagging and horrible feeling. What must that have looked like? Standing there, running hands over himself like that. So easy to take it the wrong way, and it didn’t matter that Lawrence had no idea what the correct way to take it may have been. Didn’t understand this feeling in the air, didn’t understand the way his throat burned where his fingers had touched.
Where was Dr. Facilier? Lawrence couldn’t do this alone. With the Shadow Man nearby it all seemed possible, easy even, but alone it seemed monumentally huge, and Lawrence could feel his throat constricting, could feel himself panting for breath.
Air.
Of course, air.
No wonder Naveen looked so pale.
“You can’t get enough oxygen!” Lawrence blurted out, rounding on the jar, trying to ignore the call of the mirror. Naveen’s reflection was there. Waiting for him.
The frog looked up at him, head tilted in what seemed almost like confusion for a long moment, before it surged into motion. Gasping and shaking and groaning and clawing at the lid with webbed feet, constant muttered litany of “can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe.”
Lawrence nodded furiously. The mirror seemed to glint in his peripheral vision.
He couldn’t let Naveen suffer, after all. He was an upstanding gentlemen’s gentleman. He’d ensure the boy was at least comfortable, and then slip away to some privacy with his thoughts. Perhaps he could find a nearby washroom.
The Naveen in the jar gasped feebly, frantically indicating its mouth and chest.
Perhaps the washroom would contain a mirror.
Lawrence fought the slow smile he could feel spreading across his face, imagined how it would look to see the same smile spread across Naveen’s face as he reached for the jar. He only had to loosen the lid ever so slightly, and then he’d be on his way.
