Ambiguous | By : escapeasy Category: +. to F > Code Geass Views: 2300 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining/related to Code Geass and I’m not making any profit from this work. |
Sorry again for the looooooooong wait (got a late start) but this chapter is the longest yet (37k+!) and is a little different. Flashbacks abound in [brackets] and are spliced in using -••- so I hope it's not confusing to read. orz I should probably go back and reformat the previous chapters for consistency… for now just have this overdue chapter.
And in case it isn't obvious, I've been writing Lelouch as a demi/ace because I've always felt he falls somewhere in the spectrum. The topiest Dom ace ever. ;p
"When you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all." –God from Futurama
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-10
Ambiguous
Destroy and Recreate
Zero stands tall in the center of Lelouch's bedroom.
The only witness to his looming presence is Suzaku who sits on the arm of the couch, where a pillow and blanket are ready for sleep, with an almost-frown battling the impassiveness of Zero's gaze – rather, Lelouch's hidden eyes. The masked face doesn't turn as Suzaku stands and approaches in his boxers and plain t-shirt. His green eyes are inspecting as if trying to see through the slender cocoon of a cape and sculpted helmet that makes the wearer look even taller.
Suzaku just stands.
And stares.
And doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands.
He reaches up with open palms and is somewhat startled by the silent turn of Zero's head, hands flinching. His lips rub together and he musters his bones to move again, tentatively touching his fingertips on the sides of the mask and—
"Ack—Hey! You can't just yank it off, there's a release," Lelouch grouses, guiding Suzaku's fingers with his gloved ones to the hidden activation, allowing Suzaku's touch to open the back of his mask. There are subtle clicks of sliding panels before he's able to pull it off and away, slowly, to look Lelouch in his violet eyes.
Suzaku takes the mask into his uncertain hands, almost as if he's afraid he'll turn to stone by holding it, and looks down at the face of his enemy staring right back at him.
"I think you look better outside of it." –Could've been a suggestive remark if not for the utterly un-sexy way Suzaku's sourpuss face says it.
Lelouch put a lot of thought into this ensemble.
And pride.
It's his armor.
"…I don't know about this, Lelouch," Suzaku murmurs at Lelouch's silence.
"It's a shortcut."
Suzaku's brow pensively creases when he looks back up, "But it's dishonest."
"Would you rather live with a lie or casualties?"
Suzaku looks back down at the mask, but his answer is left hanging in the air.
"Freedom is not something you ask nicely for, you take it."
"I guess it just… feels like taking away a choice."
"They have already taken away our choices. It's practically slavery. You can't work in a system that's designed to make you fail. If… any level of peace was possible by more 'honest' or 'noble' means, then we wouldn't be where we are now." Britannia's intention was always to conquer, consume and convert.
"But you're talking abou—" Suzaku is cut off by a belch bubble. He covers his mouth with a curled fist and apology, holding his quivering belly with his other hand. He opens his mouth again and—
But not words so much as a yellow, chunky slurry launch from his throat and splat Lelouch's chest. Just. Right on his chest.
For a moment they just stare.
Down at Lelouch's soiled clothes.
What is this, some new skill Suzaku is practicing?
"…" Lelouch is neither surprised nor unsurprised, just calmly neutral as the seahorse has been quite seasick lately – but his poor silk cravat… it doesn't deserve this.
"…" Said seahorse is the more stunned of the two, which is concerning considering that queasy organ is inside his body. He should be the first to know about these things and yet…
Suzaku said he could stomach a Spanish omelet for breakfast.
He was wrong.
And Lelouch paid the price.
"…I-I swear that wasn't on purpose," Suzaku defends with waving hands.
The older gent inhales sharply through his nose, holding his frustration tightly in his chest before tipping his head back and releasing it up at the ceiling like a surfacing whale. Lelouch really doesn't doubt Suzaku's honesty, it's just…
His Zero suit is so difficult to clean, and discreetly.
And now he has to
W
A
I
T
(It's almost like this did happen on purpose…)
Lelouch begins carefully disrobing Zero's layers and gets all the way down to his black brief shorts when Suzaku stops him from moving to the closet—
"Wait," the boy says with an unusual something in his eyes. "Take it off."
"What?"
"You're underwear. Take it off."
Lelouch stands.
Unmoving.
Suzaku lifts his eyebrow, "Well? Come on."
"…I'm not stripping for you." Suzaku is seriously deluded if he thinks Lelouch will be submitting to any orders. And without even a little finesse!
Suzaku rolls his eyes, "Don't be such a child."
"I'm more than certain a child shouldn't be stripping, either." Can't argue with that logic.
Lelouch can see Suzaku's patience withering in his frosting evergreens. It does occur to him that maybe this is one of those "Lelouch is being inflexible" moments that he sort of said he'd work on improving, but seriously. He can't be the one who is unreasonable here. Then Suzaku is shedding his clothes and Lelouch is completely lost. There was absolutely no pretext for sexy timez (that haven't even been happening in this room, at this time, or much lately because of the queasys). Suzaku's shorts plop down around his ankles where his pajama bottoms have pooled.
"Please," Suzaku says more softly than his previous tone.
Eh…
Lelouch shoves his shorts off his hips.
Because Suzaku asked with the magic word… and is also very naked.
However, when the bare brunet moves closer Lelouch moves away from him like same magnet poles repelling.
"Wha—What are you doing?" Lelouch cautiously asks, trying to fidget away from Suzaku's reach.
"Would you just be still?" Suzaku simpers.
"When you stop being weird," Lelouch slinks out of Suzaku's creeping hold. "I need to get this cleaned, it can't just—"
"Why is this weird? We're naked around each other a lot."
"For a reason," the older boy pointedly says. "This is for no point other than to be weird."
Suzaku slyly grins, "Are you embarrassed?"
Lelouch side-eyes Suzaku's rather unwanted smugness.
"Cautious," he stoically replies – it's an established fact that Lelouch does not feel that emotion. "Considering we're already halfway to the one good reason for being naked together, if you stand any closer it just might go the full way to that one reason."
Suzaku smiles with amusement and presses himself closer to Lelouch, sliding his hand around the thin teen's side and up his back as half of their hips touch. It's like he didn't hear a word Lelouch just said.
"So I take it that when you say there's only one good reason to be naked it's not for showering, but making love?"
"The way we've been going lately? It's the same thing," Lelouch mutters.
"Maybe this seems a little strange, but please just bare with me," Suzaku widely smiles with his pun.
Oh dear god. When Lelouch thought this couldn't get worse; "You're going to assault me with puns?"
"But you like puns, don't you?"
Lelouch tells one bad joke to the club and nobody will let him forget it.
"I really need to—" Lelouch tries to weasel away because he really can't just leave Zero's clothes sitting in barf.
But Suzaku holds him tighter.
"Lelouch…" Suzaku's voice and touches are soft, his eyes seeking the courage to meet a pair of violets and his warm palms flat on Lelouch's back. "What is it that you like about us?"
"Us?" the Britannian bemusedly echoes.
"Being together. You know…"
"…Do we really have to be naked for this?" Lelouch slightly squirms. With dignity. Is this Suzaku's idea of torture? Because already having this conversation isn't bad enough, Lelouch has to literally be vulnerable by being undressed. Uncovered. Unshelled.
While his clothes just get dirtier and dirtier on the floor…
"This is symbolic. Underneath everything else, we're just us."
"Perhaps you might've saved this for a warmer month," Lelouch mutters. Suzaku really shouldn't be left to think about things. That's how things like this happen.
"Perhaps, if you had told me the truth in a warmer month."
Lelouch lets that go – thinking this is yet another reason to have never "come clean." Suzaku can be mad or offended or whatever but this passive-aggression is childish.
"Now," Suzaku simpers again, "don't avoid the question."
It's a bad question.
Lelouch shifts a little, "What about you? What's your answer?"
"No, you first. Please try, it's important to me. And don't just tell me what you think I want to hear."
Why does Suzaku insist on talking about feelings? If feelings were meant to be public then they would… happen on the outside! Publically!
Lelouch takes a breath, a subtle hiss of reluctance blowing from his nose and considers. He didn't think—doesn't think of himself as the "coupling" type of person. Whatever that supposedly magical feeling or attraction so abundantly depicted in stories, movies and so on seemed as real as dragons and wizards. (Except wizards actually turned out to be kind of real, if Geass is any indication.) So what was it that pulled him to Suzaku? A mythological bird-creature practically personified? Maybe just the simple fact that Suzaku made Lelouch look twice is sufficient in itself? That doesn't really answer the question – not the one that Suzaku asked?
What is Suzaku asking?
Is Lelouch over-thinking this?
Or just not getting it?
Maybe Lelouch is quiet for too long. Maybe it shouldn't be a hard thing to answer. Maybe no answer is worse than any answer at all. Because Suzaku starts to pull away and there's a surge of apprehension spouting up from the gaps between their parting bodies and—
(Nunnally.
That unconditional… sense tethered only to her. Lelouch cares about his friends, he doesn't want to hurt them or see them harmed, but it's not the same. It's stronger, deeper, like gravity but in his blood. It's…)
"Comfortable," is what blurts from Lelouch's mouth. Springing from somewhere deep down (in that locked safe at the bottom of the ocean, where it belongs.) It's not as though Lelouch would be standing here like this with anybody else.
Suzaku halts, a surprised… – no, amazed? Astonished? – flutter of his leafy eyes and then a wide, goofy smile creeps across his mouth. Seems he understands that comfortable means safety, a virtue in scarce supply for Lelouch, and the former prince thought that was clear all along. Still, this appears to soothe the seahorse and Lelouch supposes that's all that matters.
In this moment.
Suzaku leans his lips closer to Lelouch's—
It would also appear that Lelouch answered correctly (but of course, he's never wrong about anything).
—"Me, too." Suzaku places this soft confession on his boyfriend's lips rather than an actual kiss and then pulls away to redress. Seemingly leaving Lelouch alone with whatever it is that just happened and puke-painted clothes while he nestles into the couch for the night. Suzaku separated himself to sleeping on the couch since the Shrine episode of a few weeks ago – he said he was still mad, but it feels like something else lately. (Disappointment…?)
On the whole, Suzaku isn't difficult to understand, but sometimes…
Sometimes that seahorse syndrome really affects his head – although that wouldn't explain before he "contracted" it.
•-•
-••-
["Nunnally really saved me."
"How so?" Lelouch asks, leaning on the railing beside Suzaku on Ashford's rooftop under a cloudy blue sky and warm summer sun.
"From the kiss," the brunet bashfully answers, propped on his arms on the same balustrade. "I don't want anybody to be forced to kiss me – Student Council reward or not. It would be so… wrong."
Because Suzaku is an "eleven" surrounded by Britannians or because he's a gentleman?
Likely more the last one, but still both.
"Inexperienced, are you?" Lelouch dryly teases.
Making Suzaku avert his eyes with a simper, "It's not about that… So, what about you? You never did say why you were chasing Arthur."
"You think I want to be forced to kiss somebody?"
"You went to an extreme just to prevent that, almost falling off the roof… and actually running up all those stairs."
"Did you not notice the mass hysteria?" Lelouch flatly retorts.
"I bet there are a lot of girls who'd want to kiss you," Suzaku takes his turn to tease, yet somehow with a sincere smile.
"Not just girls," Lelouch casually notes with a grousing tinge. Typically it is the girls that swarm him on superficial infatuation – encouraged by Milly most of the time – but they aren't always the only ones. All the attention is annoying, no matter who is targeting him. Especially if they try to use Nunnally to get to him. (There was also a teacher Milly said favored him, but that was probably just a joke. Lelouch aced that "killer" exam because of his brains, not his supposed beauty.)
Suzaku blinks. Lelouch can see a playful chide (for being so conceited, maybe) bouncing behind emerald eyes—
But then his greens settle on the older boy's face and: "Yeah, I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. You're very handsome."
Violet eyes flicker.
…Oh?
What's this, now?
"I'm more than just a nice face, you know," Lelouch haughtily huffs in jest – but also really not in jest.
"Don't have to tell me that." Suzaku laughs, warm chuckles washing over them on a light afternoon breeze as if riding the wind from seven years ago. Like they never parted. "But it was just a joke, wasn't it? Nobody would really be forced to do that."
"Milly is President Pervert," Lelouch gibes, "so you'd better get used to it."
"Uh-oh." Suzaku laughs again. "In a pinch, I guess we could've saved each other the trouble and kissed," he facetiously snickers again.
Lelouch stares at the boy grinning like an idiot who doesn't seem to realize what he just said—
Or… he knows exactly what he said.
"Another boy? Have you done that before?"
"What?" Suzaku's gaze plunks on Lelouch again, "Uh, er…" but then they're shifting away. "Well, I mean, that's different. You're not 'a boy.' You're my friend."
Lelouch feels a pitying quirk in the corner of his lips.
But cools his face as he leans back against the balustrade with a cool smirk.
"You really know how to flatter a guy, Suzaku."
"Th-That's not—I wasn't—I meant—!" Suzaku helplessly sputters, before sighing at himself and pressing his palms on the cool surface of the roof railing. "I'm just going to stop talking."
What an idiot. Lelouch doesn't claim to be an expert, but, isn't kissing the difference between platonic friends and… not platonic friends?
"Probably wise." Lelouch is softly grinning into a quiet pause that somehow knots their eyes together. "…At any rate," he lazily says, pushing himself into walking, "I apparently have to buy a new litter box now as apparently our adopted club mascot is picky about the one we already bought."
Lelouch may or may not be attending to some of his other after-school activities while he's at it.
"Well, I'm glad Arthur has a home now where people care for him and keep him safe."
"You didn't say how you know Arthur."
"Ah… Just, saw him in the city once."
That cat must really get around, then.
Maybe he is lucky to be here, where his royal highness is getting quite comfortably pampered.
"Need any help? I was thinking it would be nice for him to have some more toys to play with."
"Sure," Lelouch agrees. The strong idiot can carry the cumbersome box of heavy cat litter that Lelouch wasn't going to buy because he didn't want to carry it. "Better for him to have more options other than you."
"I think it's just his way," the burnet sheepishly laughs.
(And maybe just accepting abuse is Suzaku's way.)
Suzaku's laughter turns fond, "I remember when we were kids and you thought kissing was 'boorish and unhygienic.'"
…Still thinking about kissing, is he?
"Most kids think that, don't they?" Lelouch easily shrugs.
Suzaku grins to himself as they continue stepping down the stairs, until they reach a landing turn.
"What about now?" Suzaku manages to pull his eyes up to meet Lelouch's.
"I'm not a kid anymore," he coolly replies, pausing in his steps – and so does Suzaku.
And they stare at each other.
A tension suddenly thuds in Lelouch's body and his knuckles bleach as he clenches the stair railing.
Lelouch's brain is doused in kid-Suzaku, who was always awake bright and early ready for another day of adventure before the morning dew had even dried; before Lelouch was out from under a blanket of sleep. When he could manage it in a drafty, creaky shed—
And then it's that gunshot. Shattering Suzaku's soft smile. Another thing stolen—
And here they are, after one more close call chasing a lousy feline, talking about… kissing.
"Still," Lelouch looks away with an idle push of his feet, still gripping the rail with his moistening hand, "it is kind of gross when you think about it."
What?
It is.
"Oh?" Suzaku half-chokes on an awkward chuckle stuck in his throat and swiftly rejoins his friend's side down the stairs. "Is that why you kissed Kallen?"
"I—What?" Lelouch flings incredulous eyes at the other boy. "What makes you say that?"
Suzaku slyly shrugs, "Not important how I know, I just do."
Lelouch's lips droop with a dissatisfied half-frown, "I don't like this side of you." Seriously, in such a short time he already knows about that?
Suzaku laughs, "But you're not denying it, are you?"
That—It was a poor decision made in haste.
Certainly not Lelouch's finest moment.
It meant nothing. It didn't even feel like anything.
"Deny it when you 'just know'?" Lelouch lazily counters.
"She is pretty, isn't she?"
"…Pretty?" Lelouch genuinely questions. Subjective beauty isn't Kallen's admirable quality or what makes her the person she is, but she hides those aspects of herself at school. And everyone. She has to.
"Is she your type?"
"…" Lelouch can't answer. What kind of question is that? What does it even mean to have a "type"?
"Or… You know, other… types of people."
Other types of people? "I don't pay attention to that kind of thing," Lelouch answers with sincere disinterest. Romance seems rather frivolous. He'd much rather have a friend like Suzaku, and taunt his lower intelligence.
And watch his tender interactions with Nunnally.
And…
"No?" Suzaku asks with innocent curiosity. "Well, not surprising I guess. But I think, if you did pay attention to that kind of thing, you need someone who compliments you. Or challenges you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Suzaku grins, "Someone to keep you on your toes, you know? So you don't get too comfortable up there on your throne."
"So not someone who's…" he half-smirks at the brunet, "cute but stupid?"
Suzaku's mirthful mouth turns wry, "I'd think that would bore you. Being with someone not as smart as you."
"Is there someone as smart as me?"
Suzaku laughs and opens his mouth, but then just stares a moment.
"On second thought, I kind of hope not." His grin glimmers in his eyes. "That might be more than the world can handle."
One is already more than Britannia can handle.
Lelouch dryly shakes his head at the roll of Suzaku's facetious chuckles that lead them to the final stair step.
"Maybe so." His amethysts gleam with a prowling stare. "Then again, it wouldn't be so bad to have somebody else I can dupe into doing my bidding."
Like lugging around heavy cat litter.
Suzaku continues to follow with a light-hearted scoff, "I'm not sure if I feel more bad for you or the dupe."]
-••-
•-•
It's New Year's Eve 2017 and Lelouch is in Nunnally's bedroom fashioning her wavy hair into a long French-mermaid braid while Suzaku entertains Arthur with a new feather-stick on her bed. She happily chats about the afternoon ahead of hot-cocoa and a movie marathon with Alice and Sayoko in the club room. She's watched films these past years but now she gets to see them for the first time, with exception of a few from before the… accident. Nunnally will be borrowing the club room while the council group is out gathering supplies for the New Year's countdown later on tonight – which Nunnally is excitedly anticipating. It's been so long since she could see blooming fireworks fill the night sky in blazing patterns and Lelouch won't lie, he's quite looking forward to watching them with her, too.
"Remember when mother tried to braid my hair?" Nunnally asks as she gazes down at the newly framed photo of them with their mother – the Christmas present Lelouch had to finish tending to the day Jeremiah kind of ruined everything. Wasn't easy to scrounge up a digital file of the formal portrait the three of them took, but with a Euphie middle-man it was possible. He had it printed and custom framed in polished silver. She's been staring at it a lot since she opened it but her fingers still caress and outline the object as they have been "seeing" for over seven years.
"She only did once or twice because you couldn't be still long enough," Lelouch fondly teases, delicately weaving her mousy brown locks down towards her nape. Nunnally also had more of a sensitive scalp then.
Nunnally snickers, "I thought pigtails were more fun, too. Like floppy puppy ears."
Lelouch feels his mouth twitch with a smile, "And you could see the tie ribbons in your reflection. That was important." Nunnally loved colorful ribbons in her hair even though they didn't often survive a full day of play.
"I always envied Euphie with her long princess hair, though."
"Princess hair?" Suzaku curiously echoes, letting the ferocious tabby pounce on what was his Christmas present.
"In fairy tales princesses always have long hair with flowers or intricate braids," Lelouch answers as if that should be obvious (like, duh), working his fingers down the middle of the braid with practiced ease.
Euphemia did often have a more traditional, idyllic look – Cornelia, on the other hand, not so much. Nunnally couldn't maintain long hair, though; it would knot and tangle too much so it was easier for their mother to be kept short.
"Ah…" Suzaku hums, tugging only a little to make Arthur fight to keep his prey. "I guess we have the same in Japanese stories, too. Lots of hair ornaments."
"Yes, Sayoko has shown me some. I like the dangle ones!" Nunnally chirps.
"And now you can wear them. You've finally made it," Lelouch smiles, "and you put all those story-book princesses to shame." He deftly ties up the loose ends with a short, magenta bow.
Nunnally giggles and Suzaku leaves Arthur to contently chomp on feathers when he stands to hand her a small mirror so she can admire her brother's hard work. Suzaku takes the picture to set on the night-table for her and then scoops Arthur up into his arm (who is fonder of teething toy feathers lately rather than Suzaku, thankfully.)
"Smells like the cinnamon rolls Sayoko is baking are nearly done. You wanted to help with frosting them, right? Why don't you go see if she's ready for you." Big brother kisses little sister on the crown of her head and she's rolling herself out with a genial farewell.
"Don't be too late with your errands today!" she calls.
"I'd never miss our date." Lelouch sees her out into the hall, watching her a moment while Suzaku lingers in her room, staring at the picture on her nightstand.
"You really didn't have any pictures of your mother? Not a single one?" Suzaku asks with a slump of despondence Lelouch has zero interest falling into or even treading.
"We were banished; we weren't allowed to bring anything," the older boy perfunctorily answers. A bit shortly. Then makes his way to his bedroom with a brown-haired shadow.
Lelouch goes to the closet and takes out his super secret Zero case, setting it on the table.
"I really like seeing the two of you like that," Suzaku says, standing by the foot of the bed where he places Arthur. "It's really sweet. You're kind of a natural father."
"Glad you enjoyed the show." Lelouch briefly presses buttons on his phone.
"…I've been thinking about this since the shrine…" Suzaku tiptoes – still sounding pretty low in that slump. "What your father did to you and Nunnally was really terrible, but my father agreed to it, too." His voice is deflated even as he smoothes his hands over his more visible baby bump. "He agreed to take two children as political hostages."
"Britannia was a certain threat. He did what he had to do in an attempt to protect his people."
Disgust warps Suzaku's face, "He didn't have to stuff the two of you in some outdoor shack unfit for living. Especially with Nunnally…"
Lelouch wouldn't have felt safe anywhere after what happened.
In fact, he didn't.
And hasn't.
And won't.
"We were still the enemy. The use of children for spies isn't unheard of," Lelouch objectively reasons. Genbu's logic was sound even if morally questionable. It certainly was jarring to go from living in a posh home with a loving mother to camping under a pile of sticks and uncaring strangers. (But Lelouch has to be objective because—
(Because then any pain his ten-year-old self might've felt but preferred to burry along with his dead mother just might resurface like but more seething lava. The callous care they endured under house Kururugi was hurtful but he had to be strong and carry on for Nunnally because she was all that mattered.)
—besides, Suzaku raised the sun on days that seemed unbearably dark and bleak.)
"You and Nunnally didn't deserve to be treated like criminals," Suzaku nearly snaps at either Lelouch's detachment or defense. "Nobody cared about your wellbeing. You had guards assigned to you but they only had to keep you alive. It didn't matter if you were hurt or in pain. Nobody cared about you."
Lelouch can't believe he's about to say this out loud with words: "You did."
Suzaku's double-taking gape is as subtle as tripping in a gopher hole.
Which he did do once when they were kids because he was never cautious; he fell face-first with grass and dirt in his mouth and everything.
It was hilarious.
"But I was just a child, I couldn't help you." Suzaku self-consciously tucks away his eyes, drawn back to the ballooning baby in his belly.
"You did enough."
Suzaku helped more than he knows.
Obviously.
"…What I remember about my father is that he was… determined. Always working, strict and not affectionate. He was dedicated to our family line and its future. He would make me sit in during meetings so I could learn but I was still too young to understand most of it, or really care – although he did tell me once that there was a wife picked out for me already."
"Oh?" Lelouch asks with a sly smile.
Suzaku's mouth mirrors the coy bend, "Never said who it was, probably somebody I didn't know."
Lelouch hums.
"Anyway, people remember him as some hero or respected leader – a noble figure. He felt like a stranger to me sometimes even… when he was alive. I can't ever get to know him as more than a father, a person. But… I've been thinking he's the type of person to treat innocent children that way? Victims of circumstance?"
Lelouch is not a victim.
"What is this about, Suzaku?" the exiled royal presses (redirects away from himself).
Suzaku's jaw clenches. "I… I killed my father because I wanted to protect people and that was the only way I knew how. It was a mistake. I don't even know if it would've been better if it wasn't a mistake, honestly, but it's a regret… that I have to learn to live with." Suzaku takes in a slightly shaken breath. "I can't help but feel this is similar to you and your father."
"The situations aren't the same, you can't compare them," Lelouch easily says. "My father is too dangerous to remain in power."
"I'm not saying that he shouldn't be dealt with – I agree he's dangerous. I just… worry about what this choice will do to you."
Choice? What Choice?
(The feeling of squeezing that trigger is still vivid, imprinted into Lelouch's palm as is the taste and smell of fresh blood that invaded his senses before he could flee – after he saw how easily the clear, critical eyes of an artist fell flat and unseeing for the first time.
One squeeze, just one simple squeeze, and Clovis' brains are just a spray of chunks out the back of his skull—)
"Suzaku, he stopped being my father a long time ago. He's just a man. A dangerous man that threatens not just Nunnally's and our safety but the entire world. Whatever he's doing it needs to be stopped."
Suzaku doesn't look happy but at least a little mollified.
Lelouch's mobile buzzes and he taps it again before pocketing it.
"Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Hard to tell if Suzaku is disapproving or just concerned.
"Already waited too long," Lelouch answers, with just a taste of a teasing blame (even though Suzaku isn't the sole reason for delay), as he pulls on his long coat and scarf. "I've done the math. Today is a holiday so the place will be emptier than any other day. It lines up better now than any other time."
Suzaku holds a brief pause, "…But Nunnally is really looking forward to watching the fireworks with you, and you promised you would. Do you want to risk missing that?"
"I won't break my promise." None of them. "I'll be back in time. There's still plenty of time before midnight."
"I'm not saying… Maybe I really should just go with you."
That wouldn't help and Lelouch doesn't need or want a babysitter.
"Trust me." Lelouch asking, or telling, Suzaku to trust him isn't going to butter the burnet up, but it needs to be said. "In the meanwhile, why don't you rest? You're looking a little pale and under the weather."
Suzaku lightly groans holding his rounding belly, "It's just the nausea, although I am tired."
"Rest, then, so that you'll be ready to watch Milly almost burn down the school at midnight."
Amusement tickles the corner of Suzaku's lips before he casts a glum glance at the bed.
"My back is a little achy, too. …I'm thinking that I'll sleep in the bed again," he says on an almost wistful breath, sitting and smoothing a palm over the blankets.
The sofa isn't suitable for sleeping and Lelouch didn't want to let Suzaku, but had to allow it and give the other boy his space. Seems that paid off. Those greens eyes flick back up to Lelouch with a sparkle that's been a bit dim, and there's even a slightly cheeky smile outlining his lips.
"It's actually been difficult sleeping without you next to me. And your bony elbows in my ribs."
And isn't saying boney elbows redundant? "What's that supposed to mean?" Maybe it was only difficult because the couch isn't made for sleeping. Though, Lelouch will admit it's been kind of lonely at night.
"I'm surprised you don't know considering you've had such trouble sleeping." Suzaku's smile spreads wider with more cheekiness and frankly, Lelouch doesn't care for that expression on the idiot's face. "Even though you can fall asleep spooning you always roll away and if I try to snuggle up to your back you always jab me with your elbow to push me away. And in the ribs."
Lelouch's face contorts as if he just smelled something rancid, "I don't do that."
Suzaku lightly chuckles, "I'm the one being elbowed, I think I'd know."
Lelouch is about to counter-attack again, but the sight of Suzaku's beaming face melts the argument from his tongue. Suzaku is laughing and smiling and… this is a lighter moment they haven't had since the Orange-snowballing-secret-spilling-avalanche that nearly buried them. So he lets it be.
"Don't worry, I'm more careful now. And it's kind of endearing, in a jabby-elbow-to-my-ribs kind of way."
And, sure, Lelouch didn't adjust well to sharing his bed at the start as he's used to sleeping alone, but he thought he had improved. Apparently, he needs lots and lots of space.
Metaphorically and literally.
(To be fair, C.C. could be a persistent bed hog, too, so Lelouch had to learn some sleepy defense sharing his bed with her – but of course, Suzaku doesn't need to hear that.)
"Masochist," Lelouch fondly mumbles under his breath as he unfurls a blanket to drape over said masochist who very weakly grins and lies down sideways. Then he pulls the trash bin close to the side of the bed – better safe than sorry.
He hoists up his case secretly containing his Zero garb, sliding the strap onto his shoulder, and even though he tries not to he still catches Suzaku's stare from the corner of his eye like a loose sweater thread snagged on a nail.
"Be careful," the brunet says in a quiet push of his breath, on the brink of a plea.
"Don't worry, just rest," Lelouch orders without hesitation. "And don't vomit on the bed. Again."
"It was just the one time, jeez…" Suzaku quietly grumbles while snuggling like a chubby caterpillar under the blanket.
Lelouch mostly smiles on the inside, "It only takes once," before he makes his exit.
•-•
The afternoon of New Year's Eve finds the Zone Administrated buildings to be quite scarce, as Lelouch knew they would be. He walks down the barren halls in full Zero strides, passing only the occasional mixed Black Knight and Britannian guards. The interior of the building would be shut down for the holiday by now if not for a few straggling workers, such as Zero himself (especially because of Zero.)
Until he nears his office.
At the mouth of his hallway not a soul can be seen; not even at his door. Lelouch unlocks the door and steps through the threshold—
Greeted by the White Prince himself seated quite comfortably at Zero's desk by only the light of the desk lamp with Villetta standing close but off to the side. The door is quickly shoved closed and locked then his wrists are bound behind his back and he's quickly frisked. He glances over the collar of his cape to see his own pistol aimed at him by the traitorous Orange.
"Dear brother," Schneizel feigns warmth – it seems fake to Lelouch, at any rate. "It only makes sense it would be you, such capability and… you never did grant Clovis mercy."
Was that a compliment? Felt fairly backhanded.
Lelouch doesn't respond, only silently eyes his opponents from behind his mask.
"There's no need to play coy, you've already been exposed," Schneizel says, gesturing to Villetta and Jeremiah. "Now, I want to see the face of my supposedly dead little brother."
Little.
Not younger but little brother.
Jeremiah pushes Lelouch's neck down and his other hand gropes around the mask before roughly pulling it off and swiftly replacing with an eye-patch strapped over his left eye. He's forced to watch Zero's head tumble by his feet before being hauled back up by his nape to face Schneizel, with a furious scowl.
The freaking nerve!
An unexpected hint of emotion washes over Schneizel's face, disappearing behind his cool eyes – but Lelouch won't be suckered by something that might not even be real.
"All these years, believed to be a tragedy of war and here you are like a ghost." He stands from Lelouch's chair.
"Or a revenant," Lelouch villainously grins more in his voice and eyes than his lips.
"Maybe still a tragedy of war," Schneizel curtly responds, a touch drolly. "As far as anyone back home is concerned. These officers here did me the courtesy of discretion, of course. Isn't that right, Sir Gottwald?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Jeremiah stoically replies.
Complacency teases Schneizel's lips, "The man disgraced by Zero himself, rather fitting. A shame he couldn't have reached me before we lost Knight Nu in the process."
Alarmed confusion splashes Villetta's face, "I don't under—"
But before she can speak much more Schneizel snaps and Jeremiah fires at her with Lelouch's pistol, square in the chest, and she crashes to the floor. Lelouch flinches at the silenced shot and then grimaces when the heated barrel is jabbed into the back of his skull.
"So this is the part where you try to declare checkmate?" Lelouch scorns.
Because that's totally Lelouch's move.
Trademark pending.
"That would be short-sighted, wouldn't it? Considering we both want the same thing."
Lelouch's eyebrow lifts, "Oh?" Like he'd fall for a trap like that so easily – Schneizel always did underestimate Lelouch…
The way Schneizel's mouth just almost, barely, practically doesn't shape with a smirk is infuriating; "You are in a unique position, as a pacified force in the land owned by your enemy."
Lelouch still isn't biting; "Unique?" He can dance this indirect word tango until the end of time.
"Exposing you would undo everything you've achieved, particularly amongst your followers, but you have already surrendered in a truce with this Zone. Turning over such a concession would only damage future negotiations and allies would be difficult to obtain."
Lelouch wouldn't say "surrendered," but agreed to.
"But you don't want this sort of situation spreading to other Areas with unrest." As the expression goes: give them an inch and they'll take a mile. All of the world has been watching New Japan.
"Assuming they would be organized enough to even come close to being a threat?" Schneizel coolly counters.
But of course.
Britannian's "Japan" concession makes them "independent" but in no way allowed to actively engage Britannia. Should the Black Knights choose new war fronts, or allies, however…? Zero could accomplish such subtle subterfuge.
"Are you seeking an ally against someone?" Lelouch coyly pushes this along – he has an important date to keep, after all.
"You have hidden your identity, which would make you easy to replace, on the surface. Any close, loyal soldiers you have would surely notice errors in any puppet that Britannia uses in your place."
Not to mention the rare few who have actually seen Lelouch's face under the mask with their own non-Geassed eyes.
"That would jeopardize the 'truce' if discovered," the younger prince says, "although it wouldn't be the first time Britannia has gone back on an agreement. Not even the first time with Japan. The emperor left his own children here as collateral but still attacked without mercy."
"But you aren't dealing with the Emperor, dear brother."
"I'm not sure I know what it is I am dealing with, yet."
"As I said, we want the same thing: change, an end to all this war and a new direction for the world."
So not an end to the Empire, then?
Schneizel is being cryptic and friendly enough to make himself sound altruistic, but Lelouch knows better. He won't hang himself with the ropes Schneizel offers.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Also as I said, there's no value in removing or revealing you. That isn't what I want."
"You want a patsy to deliver you to the throne. An exiled prince turned terrorist would be an excellent scapegoat, should things get messy." It will get messy. "You are a user and a liar, and I'm not falling for a wolf in sheep's clothing."
"So hostile…" Schneizel sighs with discontentment, looking down at his gloved finger drawing a line on the polished wooden desk. "It's no wonder you chose to remain hidden all these years rather than rejoin us back home where you belong. Almost like you've gone feral."
"I am where I belong," Lelouch utters with defiance.
"What about Nunnally?" Periwinkle eyes flick up and pin on Lelouch's. "Is she where she belongs? Can she live well at Ashford, even alone without you?"
Lelouch snidely scoffs, "Are you threatening me?"
Schneizel is never close to straightforward unless he thinks there's something to gain or it's just more smoke and mirrors. He must've known what Lelouch thinks of him to try this approach – he's too much of an empty robot to feel desperation or other human feelings and is too arrogant to admit defeat. He'd run away like a coward before ever letting that happen.
"You don't respond well to threats but it's clear you are not open to… negotiating, either. And I don't like stalemates." He holds his hands comfortably behind his back. "There's no reason this has to be difficult, but… you must realize that your secrets are no longer safe. There's also quite a mess of a Britannian officer on your floor by your own gun – one that was believed to be missing."
So he'll use Nunnally against Lelouch rather than Zero – undoubtedly both, one way or another in the end, though.
(It's actually kind of cute how much leverage Schneizel thinks he has.)
"Maybe I agree. But I want to hear you say it," Lelouch commands with a sprinkle of sugar over his voice, filling the dark and quiet room with hollow fluff.
Schneizel's expression is hollow itself, cool neutrality masking his much deeper waters – a nice, white prince veneer.
"It would be in the best interest of everyone if our current Emperor… becomes a former emperor."
Lelouch exhales a loose laugh and tips his chin up with a wry smile.
Schneizel needs Lelouch, at the moment. Betrayal is inevitable between them, they both know this. Trust can't be established. Hell, they can't even get within reach. But as of now, they need each other if anything is to progress beyond an unsavory stalemate.
"Too much of a coward to get your own hands dirty?" Lelouch delightedly sneers up at the ceiling.
"Perhaps you are not in a place to judge me an indirect coward, Zero." A surprising, even if tiny, touch of sass from the White Prince.
"Perhaps not," the Dark Prince responds just as smug, looking back down at his older brother. "Or perhaps I also know a thing or two about letting others believe what I want them to." His uncovered right eye shimmers from violet to red and an evolved Geass sigil freely flies right at the insufferable second son.
Surprise, motherfu—!
•-•
-••-
[The weekend comes and goes (after the almost-flirting with Suzaku on the roof) with Lelouch largely catching up on the sleep he's lost handling his—Zero's affairs. Perhaps it's time that could've been better spent doing business, but despite his determination, Lelouch knows that rest is vital to maintaining it in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do on a Monday is go to P.E. but he should at least show his face and get checked for attendance every once and while. He had planned to slip away afterward when students are a loose jumble on the track… Instead, he somehow remained in the mix.
Under the climbing sun.
And outside air.
And dirt.
It's such a waste of time it's almost frustrating – more so when Lelouch is picked to wrangle some equipment as punishment for skipping – which is only more of a deterrent from ever attending after he skips again. He could've been relaxing on the roof instead, pondering business. Contemplating recruiting, assessing a batch of newbies, comparing statistics, strengths and weakness and whether or not they're an asset, liability or a threat. (It's not unheard of for a shill or two to try pulling the wool over Zero's eyes, but he knows better. The instant a person walks into the room Lelouch can read them inside and out…) The only thing that made this insufferable class hour bearable was seeing Suzaku. Rather intent on exercising, that one, so they didn't socialize much as he ran his laps. Suzaku is still a little distant in their classes, today especially, and maybe Lelouch could understand if it wasn't completely unnecessary. He doesn't need to worry about exposing Lelouch's history (– no, this feels like something else.)
At any rate, Lelouch doesn't get into the locker room until late, already after the change bell has chimed. Lunch is next, though, so he won't be tardy. Just sweaty. And sour. Lelouch is thinking about skipping lunch to quickly rinse off in the private comforts of his Clubhouse bath when sounds of peer-on-peer aggression echo from the showers in the locker room. He quietly steps through the empty locker aisles towards the noise—
Seeing a blond and red-headed pair of boys trying to keep an unnervingly naked Suzaku on his knees on the wet shower floor for whatever nefarious ideas they have in their coconut heads. Lelouch is grabbed by a brunet he didn't see and his arm is twisted behind his back faster than his slower reflexes can launch his Geass – he has to be careful not to cast friendly-fire into Suzaku's eyes when the other boys look his way. The grip around his contorted arm is tight and the pressure on his bones hurts, but he can tell there's slack.
But of course.
Lelouch Lamperouge is known for his looks and little else.
A pretty face always signifies a helpless weakling.
Idiots.
"So it's your little boyfriend here to the rescue," the blond leader maturely spouts – and he sounds so very tough when he and his friends outnumber the Number. "Protecting your Club pet?"
Lelouch isn't accustomed to altercations with other students – not to say he cannot handle them. He had his share of contention with the royal blood. It's been relayed to him that he's not the most approachable person so he isn't approached, which is more than fine by him. Lelouch's biggest concern is an overflow of mail during Valentine's and the various schemes of Lady President Ashford. Most kids stick to their own group of friends and, well, none of them are foreigners. Until now Ashford was a pleasant enough place. Even still, many students are wary of Suzaku if only because of that whole "Prince Murderer" thing. Zero took his claim but the suspicious and prejudiced will believe what they want.
He instantly recognizes the trio of brutes; they're in the same year but in another class, a few nobodies that usually blend into the background. Suffice to say, they aren't worth naming. Lelouch has familiarized himself with all students at Ashford, can't be too careful, and this set of boys are unremarkable in every way, really. All have upper-crust families fattening on the pillaging of Japan, although business not military, with parents that likely would rather have somebody else raise their children. They are average students with little behavioral issues, though, and they don't venture outside Ashford's walls. Maybe it should be comforting that they don't go looking for "numbers" to harass, but it means little when they've waited more like spiders in a web and that Suzaku is the poor soul to get ensnared.
The apparent "top dog" picks up a nearby broom and Lelouch won't deny the way it makes his gut drop like an anvil. Seems these brutes know only one way to assert their authority and mark their territory – staying true to their troglodyte nature by thinking only with their genitals.
And more than likely overcompensating, of course.
"You two are getting each other off all the time, aren't you?" the blond jabs Suzaku hard in the chest with the tip of the broom handle, making him wince. "You like Brit bananas, don't you monkey? Eat one with every meal?"
Repulsive trash.
The redhead is seemingly trying to force Suzaku's head down against the floor, leaving his backside exposed and nothing to the imagination of their intentions, but the soldier is stronger than they probably thought – but… Suzaku couldn't be holding back, could he?
Sex crimes like this are most often about the violence of it and Lelouch's arrival might've made this worse but he offers Suzaku a subtle wink. It's not as reassuring as the secret Zero thought it would be. Without the freedom of his hands he can't flash any of their secret signals – Suzaku might not even remember all of them, anyway. Even after Lelouch dumbed—uh, trimmed it down. These boys don't seem to think they'd be interrupted, which is concerning if there was outside help, but this really seems like something they didn't think through. They aren't the "masterminding" sort, after all. Just nameless idiots doing what idiots do: not thinking. Makes foiling them all the easier.
"And I bet this monkey-lover is more than happy to provide," the brunet sneers behind Lelouch with such vile, oozing hatred it's like he hopes to transfer it through literal osmosis.
But Lelouch bets the coconut doesn't even know what osmosis is.
"There's no need to be jealous," Lelouch taunts with scathing, honeyed arrogance. "If you wanted bananas so badly all you had to do was ask." Lelouch reaches back with his free hand and boldly grabs the crotch of the boy behind him—
Entirely expecting to be shoved away in disgust with a dirty epithet, freed by phobia—
He's barely able to brace himself with his arms when he slams against the lockers. The one next to him wasn't completely shut and the door is pushed open by his impact—
And inside is a small but unobstructed mirror he could see through the slits. Lelouch leans just enough to the side so he can clearly see the boy behind him still quivering with revulsion—
And the instant their eye's meet he takes the chance and fires Geass at the reflective glass.
"Stand down," He orders and is thrilled to see his command bounces and catches the eyes of his intolerable target. The boy freezes, his body relaxes, and Lelouch delights in the Geass only he can see shackling the bully's eyes – but as soon as he looks away from the mirror it will break the spell.
"Yes," the boy drones.
"You should stop this bullying, and you will stop your friends," Lelouch holds tightly to the leash, an uncontrollable smirk of pride pulling his lips. "If you know what's good for you." –A touch of his own bravado, for show, before he turns around and breaks the contact.
"Yes," he concedes as he walks away toward the other boys. "Yes, you're right."
Immediately there's dissension.
Lelouch's puppet tries to physically pry the tangle of other boys apart but obviously struggles – seems a Geass drone works with what they have, or what is within their abilities. He is successful in distracting the leader, however, resulting in quite a furious shoving match, leaving the third boy holding Suzaku without a brain. Lelouch listens quite contently to the stilted curses and squeak of shoes over the floor as he grabs the broom that his drone confiscates. He doesn't even want to touch the tainted thing but it's safer in his hands.
"What the hell is your problem?! What are you doing?!" the blonde leader indignantly demands as the two boys push each other away, and his eyes just happen to look at Lelouch—
Who, with his aim pointed away from Suzaku, very easily collars yet another mad dog with his red glare – a boy of weak leadership, to say the least. Lelouch can't see but hears the scuffling and from only from the corner of his eye does he catch a blurry of brown hair before he finally looks to see that Suzaku has subdued the bully with a face-full of towel. It's wrapped around the other boy's face who is crumpled on the floor without a single mark on his body. Suzaku does clean, gentle but efficient work, it seems – Lelouch might not be gentle, but they have the other two in common. He's able to easily dismiss his Geassed dimwits on their way without resistance while the third scurries off with his tail between his legs – sure, when he's outnumbered. Lelouch makes a mental note of tracking the boy later to ensure there won't be any retaliation as he takes a clean towel from the stack outside the shower, letting it unfurl from his fingers as it hands it to Suzaku.
Probably a stupid question, but: "Are you all right?" he asks with soft concern.
"Fine." Suzaku takes the towel and covers himself, without meeting Lelouch's violets. "Just sorry you had to get caught up in that."
Lelouch's brow deeply furrows, thinking Suzaku shouldn't be apologizing.
"I mean I'm thankful for your help. It was… impressive." Suzaku walks past Lelouch towards his locker just to the side, tossing a simpering grin.
It's… actually quite vexing. This side of Suzaku has certainly changed. He never let himself get pushed around or let bullies get away unscathed when they were kids – not to say it's his fault, just…
"Ignoring the provocation is usually good enough to make them give up, but sometimes it does the opposite."
"They've harassed you before?" Lelouch asks with his back turned to give his friend privacy but is entirely unable to keep ire from coiling around his words like barbed wire. Were they the ones that gratified Suzaku's property…?
There's a considerable pause on Suzaku's end and it gnaws down Lelouch's spine – he peeks over his shoulder to see Suzaku stepping into his uniform slacks—
Noticing the fresh smears of abuse purpling his skin before averting his burning eyes.
"…There's really nothing for you to worry about."
FALSE
Such a glaring lie and obvious avoidance of answering the question (can't lie to a liar). Lelouch knew Suzaku was suffering from harmful bigotry and it occurs to him that this is something Suzaku has been dealing with for a long time – for as long as he's been an Honorary Britannian, at least. Then there's the immensely sickening thought that Britannian soldiers can and undoubtedly did commit far more heinous acts. Britannians are essentially bred to believe it's their right to dehumanize non-Britannians, some even make it a sport.
Lelouch turns at the sound of a locker closing, seeing Suzaku fully dressed in his Ashford blacks and lifting his satchel. He tries his best to mask a wince with uncomfortable shifts of his body but little escapes Lelouch's practically perfect perception.
"I have some cooling liniment that will help," Lelouch says, blocking Suzaku's path.
"…That's ok, I don't need it. It's too far to the clubhouse—"
"If you don't treat it now it will only be worse later." Lelouch presses, even literally with a light poke to an aggravated shoulder (he's lucky it's not dislocated) and making the stubborn brunet wince again. "And our lunch break is now, you won't miss anything." With the lunch break and a fee period right after, they have an hour before their next class begins. They can even eat in the clubhouse kitchen and won't lose any time.
The former prince doesn't wait for any verbal agreement, merely hooks Suzaku by the arm and pulls him along like a wayward child.
If Suzaku really wanted to stop him, he could try.
But he doesn't.
-•-
"I'm really all right," Suzaku modestly tries to dissuade. "You don't have to do this."
And yet, here they are in this tiny bathroom.
Together.
Lelouch ignores him and sets a shoe-box sized first aid kit down on the counter, opening it to retrieve a small bottle.
"Spare me the tough-guy act. This will soothe and it dries quickly." Lelouch holds the bottle with an expectant look that Suzaku is reluctantly regarding. "And I'm not asking."
Suzaku surrenders with a subtle sigh through his nose and turns himself around, facing the mirror to shed his top coat and shirt. Lelouch helps at the sight of some straining on the soldier's part, laying the coat on the counter. His violets catch on Suzaku's reflection, watching rougher fingers flicker down buttons and a foreign, funny suspense turns in his gut—
That boils with familiar ire at the sight of discoloration on Suzaku's back. Splotchy bruises that have swelled faster than Lelouch would've thought – but they shouldn't even be there in the first place. He can't blame Suzaku for being in that situation, but it just seems so unlike him. Suzaku might've been easy to lead around when they were kids but he was still stubborn and never a doormat. It's almost like he didn't want to fight back but that doesn't make any sense. Suzaku used to make at least that much sense.
Lelouch doesn't realize his eyes are burning and seething until he notices timid emeralds staring at him in the mirror, and he quickly averts back to the bottle in he's tightly clenching in his hand.
"Why do you even have something like that?" Suzaku asks as an obvious distraction, pressing his fisted hands on the cold sink counter. "Isn't it for athletes?"
"The purpose of a first aid kit is to be prepared." Lelouch oozes a small squeeze onto his fingers.
"So you prepare for everything?" Suzaku meagerly smiles.
"Try to."
Suzaku's body flinches slightly under the touch of the ointment, forcing their eyes to connect in the mirror.
"It might take a few minutes for it to activate," Lelouch says, dipping his eyes back down to his finger pads that are delicately soothing the medicine into taut skin on shoulders with practiced fingers – Nunnally used to get pains after the… and Lelouch was always there to ease her discomfort.
"What about your arm?" Suzaku quietly asks and his voice fills the small space in a hot fog.
"It's fine," Lelouch says without meeting Suzaku's eyes. "He wasn't holding that tightly. Thought I was too weak to cause trouble, I suspect." He warps his supposed "weak pretty boy" face with a sardonic curve of his mouth when he looks into waiting greens, "People have a way of underestimating me."
Suzaku's lips faintly curl, "You kind of like that, though, don't you?"
Lelouch shrugs.
Comes in handy sometimes.
It did this time.
The liniment begins to chill and even tingle up Lelouch's fingers as he massages more on some blooming bruises of Suzaku's lower back. Warm, firm skin that ripples under his touch as he rubs the medicine into flesh that has an entrancing texture. Suzaku watches through the mirror but Lelouch is focused on the gentle rubbing motions over abused skin that tempts his fingers to touch beyond the frayed edges of blue-green. And maybe he does give in a bit to the temptation when he's smoothing over a lower bruise near the back of Suzaku's right hip—
The icing liniment prickling up his fingertips isn't what sharply ices Lelouch's chest.
A reddened, ruined patch is glaring at him from Suzaku's skin almost like a command of his Geass roped around somebody else's eyes. But that's exhilarating. Satisfying. This is just…
The gunshot is a ripe memory, pungent with Suzaku's pooling blood. His soft smile of affection warmed Lelouch's chest—but then both were shattered by a Britannian reprobate of a soldier that the exiled prince couldn't control—And it all just steeped in the back of Lelouch's head as but more gasoline on the fire of his wrath. He wouldn't be so helpless again. He wouldn't—
"It… The shot was obstructed," Suzaku says when he notices Lelouch's faltering attention, his voice is a soft murmur but still somehow balloons to fill the entire bathroom, "but it still penetrated."
Lelouch flicks his amethysts up at their reflection only briefly, choosing to continue repairing on Suzaku what shouldn't be broken.
"This really is so familiar," Suzaku suddenly chirps, clovers eyes anywhere but the mirror. "You used to do this when we were kids. Tend my wounds, I mean."
Little bird is changing the subject.
Lelouch is willing to play along.
"You had a habit of leaping before looking," Lelouch playfully recalls.
Suzaku gently chuckles in his chest, "You're gentler now, though."
"Yet you're still leaping without looking," Lelouch dryly chastises, fingertips slowly circling. Almost idly.
Suzaku's smile is distant but fond, "Remember that one time with my knee? It stung so bad when you cleaned it with disinfectant… Nunnally said a kiss would make it feel better but you wouldn't do it."
Lelouch remembers Suzaku trying to pretend it didn't hurt, being the tough young master of the shrine, but the tears in his eyes betrayed his tough young bluster.
"I told you that you would only hurt yourself jumping down from that high in the tree," Lelouch says, "but you didn't listen."
Suzaku ignores him just like he did seven years ago; "But then Nunnally kissed it instead and it actually did feel better. Like magic. I was amazed."
Their mother used to do that because that's what mothers do. Suzaku didn't have a mother and his father wasn't the cuddly type – seems he and Lelouch have that in common – and he'd never had anybody who loved him kiss his hurts before. Lelouch refused to do it because Suzaku was an idiot and… he didn't really believe that he had the same magical touch as his deceased mother.
Not like his kisses ever opened Nunnally's eyes.
"Mind over matter – although that would imply you have a mind to begin with." Lelouch smiles into the mirror. A rather toothy smile.
"So cruel," Suzaku lightly laughs again. "Even though Nunnally said you used to do it for her all the time."
"What are you saying, you want me to kiss you now?" Lelouch facetiously says right into the reflection of Suzaku's eyes—
Surprised by the rather sudden redness on his face.
And the dramatic shift in atmosphere.
…Like they've just fallen off the planet. Or into it.
"It should be dry in a few minutes." Lelouch is finished with the… massaging so he pulls himself away to wash his hands in warm water, and Suzaku moves aside.
The brunet turns around to rest against the counter, eyes sunk on the floor.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes in a pained murmur.
Violet eyes sharpen at the reflection of the brunet's back, "Sorry?"
"You got hurt because of me. With the other boys."
That isn't… "It's not your fault that other people are ignorant barbarians." He dries his hands with a towel.
"But something worse could've happened."
Lelouch wordlessly clenches his jaw.
"This is why I said we should keep a distance. I appreciate what you did, but you're only going to get into more trouble or hurt because of this and I don't want that to happen. You don't need to stick up for me. You've done enough."
Done enough?
This—
"I'm not some delicate damsel that needs your protection," Lelouch scolds in a partial growl and fierce eyes that Suzaku can't see because he won't look. He didn't watch Suzaku die once, powerless to stop it, then save him from certain-execution only to yield to schoolyard bullies – a Lelouch that succumbs to intimidation or surrenders is no Lelouch at all.
"It's not that, it's just… After I was shot, when I woke up my first thought was you. I asked about you, but… Didn't know what had happened to you and I hoped you were ok. And Nunnally, I was just so worried. What if she was left alone? Then I come to this school and the two of you are here, safe together and I…" Suzaku finally takes a chance to look up and toward the older boy but there's still a weight in his evergreens. "You could've been seriously hurt then and still now. Then what about Nunnally?"
Lelouch doesn't want to hear it. Not another apology. Not the spewing of some mutated form of the bravado ten-year-old Suzaku used to have. How is Suzaku different from Nunnally?
Suzaku was dead.
DEAD.
And Lelouch wasn't—couldn't—
"You're such an idiot," Lelouch snarls and then he's claiming Suzaku's lips (and maybe something more) that are stunned frozen. (It doesn't even occur to him that he might've been calling himself an idiot, too.) Lelouch is a man of action… and whatever this action is, it needed to be taken.
Needs to take Suzaku.
He holds Suzaku's – his childhood, best and only true friend – face in his hands with their lips glued together in a kiss that landed hot and plush. Short but lingering. Not Lelouch's first kiss by any means but the first one that isn't… an empty nothing. It's something more and something he wants more of, a heating of his blood—
"You almost died twice," Lelouch says with hot possession against Suzaku's lips. "All I could do was watch."
No, don't bring that up – Lelouch can see in Suzaku's childish green gaze as his shoulders are clenched in the soldiered hands of a scrappy, summer kid.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, pinching a small scowl on Lelouch's face.
"I don't—" Lelouch runs out of words, out of thoughts. If he had any to start. Empty-headedness is unnatural. There's a twisting tangle pulsing somewhere between his head and stomach – his chest – that's both unpleasant and… not unpleasant.
He doesn't want to let Suzaku go.
Not then, not now.
Not ever.
Lelouch tries again, ignoring his crisscrossing instincts to lean in and press more softly against Suzaku's lips with less force and roar but not less power or… rawr. He sees green eyes slide shut and then feels the younger boy melt more than before.
This is better.
Words are meaningless and inferior.
Lelouch doesn't know how long their lips smoothly rub against each other, the tender way they open and the taste of Suzaku floods his mouth. A distant flavor of fruit swaying on the hint of tongue and Lelouch finds his hands on the small of Suzaku's back because that's… just where they should be. Maybe like how Suzaku's hands just need to be clinging to Lelouch's elbow and shoulder. Wall by wall and seam by seam the bathroom dissolves into a hammering in Lelouch's chest (and traveling farther south) until there is only the flush touching of their bodies and mouths spooning in a stretching kiss that deepens, sinks deeper into his bones—
But their lips are unlocked by an abrupt (rude) buzzing in Suzaku's pocket. The haze is cleared completely when Suzaku answers a call and the sound of him taking (somebody else's—Britannia's) orders for the evening fills the room instead. Like a bad smell…]
-••-
•-•
"Kneel," Lelouch commands and his devilish delight practically sets the air ablaze around him when the second prince lowers to his knees. There's never been a more wondrous sight.
Mental image saved and archived.
Certainly won't get dusty…
Jeremiah removes the false restraints from Lelouch's wrists before walking over to lift a still-conscious but limp Villetta off the floor and into a chair. Lelouch, meanwhile, savors the moment with a wicked smirk carved into his lips at the defeated sight of his older brother utterly prostrated.
Utterly.
Prostrated.
"Marianne vi Britannia," But it's time for Lelouch to mix business with pleasure, "who killed her?"
"I don't know," Schneizel answers in monotone.
Lelouch glowers, "Clovis said you investigated, but you don't know?" It's not possible that he's lying, Lelouch's Geass is the ultimate truth serum, but it's suspicious nonetheless.
"No, I only removed her body."
Removed her body? "Explain," Lelouch commands in a near-growl.
"After she was discovered, I oversaw that her body was taken and discretely secured in a safe location."
…What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
Although, there was never really any sort of official service for her – none that Lelouch can recall. Maybe he was too young and upset, what with Nunnally in the hospital, but…
"Did father arrange her death?"
"I cannot say for certain."
"…Did you?" Lelouch incredulously asks from a different angle despite knowing that there's no loophole in his Geass interrogation.
"No."
Disappointing. Schneizel is more useful alive than dead so maybe it's for the best that he isn't the murderer, near or far. His death would've been too tempting – although enslavement is still immensely satisfying. Doesn't get Lelouch closer to any answers, however.
Maybe it doesn't matter. Toppling Schneizel lines Lelouch up for the ultimate checkmate.
"Just… what the hell is going on here?" Villetta slowly rasps an interjection with confusion, eyes sharpening on her former comrade. "You shot me."
"It was a temporary paralyzing agent," Jeremiah corrects. Instantly potent, it's fast-acting but not long-lasting (and with a blood burst capsule, for effect). "It was necessary. I knew you would only believe this if you saw it."
Indeed. She should be grateful that Lelouch brought a modified pistol – a partial risk, he was only about 87% certain that Schneizel would try to execute her, fortunately, Lelouch has always been 1000% certain that Schneizel is the type of asshole prone to such.
(And that Lelouch might've done similar if he was in his brother's place.)
Her brow deeply furrows, "Believe what? That you've really turned and have been working with Zero this whole time?"
"I have not turned on my country. This is about saving it, even from itself." Jeremiah proudly defends (If that's what the Orange thinks, Lelouch won't stop him.) "Don't you see? He's a prince, he has a right to the throne."
Only, like, seventeenth in line for it… by legitimate means.
Though that was according to seven years ago.
But who's counting?
Villetta scoffs with dripping disdain, "This is betrayal and… treason no matter how you try to reason it. I can't believe I'm hearing this from you."
"Betrayal? Treason?" Lelouch honestly tries not to laugh, but there's no stopping the trickle of ironic chuckles. "Is this loyalty to the same country that revels in watching you climb an unending ladder? That would sooner push you off of it than offer you a hand up?" Lelouch gestures to Schneizel, kneeling like a true sheep. "Your own Prime Minister would rather kill you and keep this prize you offered for himself for his own advancement to the throne – but at least then they'd actually have a corpse to send back to your family. Because it's not as though they spent a single second looking for you after you went missing. Wrong allegiance?"
"You are a self-righteous hypocrite," she spits, gaining strength in her quivering limbs. "Killing your own flesh and blood, your brother Prince Clovis, for your own advancement."
"Villetta, please." Jeremiah steps between them with a sympathetic tone that sounds out of place in his mouth.
"She's not wrong," Lelouch interrupts almost casually as he shoves Schneizel's face down against the carpet with the dirty bottom of his boot.
(…He probably shouldn't linger around Schneizel in this state for too long.)
"Your Highness?" Jeremiah curiously questions, drawing the teenager's eyes back up to him.
"My methods might not always be noble but my ends are vastly superior to any highborn 'noble' Britannian." Lelouch presses his heel into his brother's skull before pulling himself away to retrieve Zero's mask from the floor. Best to leave his mother's murder details for later, in private.
"You speak of justice as if you are the definition, but you're the same as the second prince you've kowtowed," Villetta spurns.
Ooh, ouch.
That's so uncalled for.
Comparing Lelouch to Schneizel like that.
But she's seeing the taint of the White Prince, at least.
"If that were true, I wouldn't have traded my pistol for a tranquilizer weapon, and we wouldn't be talking as we are now." Lelouch might be many things, but he is not his family.
That gives her enough pause but defiance is a rooted fire in her eyes.
"So you didn't kill me. What do you want? What happens now?"
"Answer me this: Would you rather be a ranking officer on a sinking ship or in the favor of the island that keeps you from drowning?"
Her amber eyes flit, rereading his words coasted into the air, "…Are you even giving me a choice?"
"More choice than my dear brother," Lelouch lances a leer in Schneizel's direction. No, using the fact that he can subjugate isn't the best persuasive path, but he just can't stop basking.
Glorious, unfettered basking.
"And if I refuse?" Villetta challenges – she's quite spirited and it's… kind of refreshing. "This is still treason," she argues with anxious eyes at Jeremiah. "It's—!"
"No different than any other maneuver within the Empire," Lelouch cuts off her desperate, misplaced patriotism. "There are continuous plots to climb, even dethrone – something exacerbated by an Emperor who is more concerned about preaching than leading. That man leaves the rest of us to fight with each other rather than work together." He points to Schneizel. "Your precious Prime Minister is no different. He was going to kill you and maybe send your body back home in a box. Is this who you want to serve? Leadership that you can't even trust to stand with you when they should? That will always and only be out for itself? You want to get ahead of everybody else keeping you down, what does it matter how you get there?"
She's almost speechless, "…It's not that simple." Villetta Nu is Britannian born and can't argue the truth, but this system is the only one she's ever known and has tirelessly worked within to get where she is—and still, where has that gotten her? Even if she could've someday achieved whatever status she desires the fighting wouldn't end; she'd only have to guard her place more fiercely as yet another lion in the crowded den. With an impassive ringmaster Emperor barely taking notice.
"Isn't it?" Lelouch asks. "Work with me and you'll get security and a post."
"In exchange for my loyalty?" She can't stop challenging him but she's clearly wavering as if Lelouch plucked a thread and it's all she can do to keep from unraveling right into his hands. (Too late.) "What's to stop me from reporting you?"
"Kaname Ohgi," Lelouch simply utters and watches Villetta bristle into ice. "You must not have told your dear Prime Minister about where you really were all this time, with your secret love affair; otherwise he would've considered you more valuable."
Her jaw tenses but she doesn't speak.
Unsurprising.
"You obviously didn't think him trustworthy. I just have to wonder if it was because you felt shame or… concern about the wellbeing of your paramour?"
"You mean the eleven terrorist holding me hostage?" Villetta venomously volleys. "If you expose me you would be exposing Ohgi, too. A terrorist keeping a Britannian officer hostage."
"Hostage?" Lelouch echoes with amusement. "It certainly doesn't appear that you were held against your will, does it?" he pulls photographs from inside his cape and lets them drop to the floor in front of her; images of shared smiles, warm embraces and no room for speculation. "You know how Britannians play. They always side with the bully and always blame the victim."
She can't meet his gaze.
Vulnerability confirmed.
"Or maybe you'd prefer to go back to the way you were? I can make that happen," Lelouch ominously boasts. "I can take each and every one of these shameful smiles and erase them."
It would be so easy.
Lelouch could wipe all of this from Ohgi's mind as well as reprogram Nu with Geass, leaving none-the-wiser and efficiently securing the situation.
Lelouch could do it… (It's the smart thing to do. Lelouch could do it.)
And be just like his father when he used Nunnally.
(But would Lelouch have done so if he hadn't learned about Nunnally…?)
"Every moment you spent with him. Each meal cascaded in conversation. The comforts of night and hope of morning. The restless waiting for him to return home with his smiling face. The warm feeling of his embrace, blanketing you in his scent. His voice soft in your ear. His sheepish laughter. All of it could be wiped clean as if it never even happened—"
"Stop it!" she vehemently objects practically shaking in distress.
Lelouch can feel himself in her shoes, thinking of Suzaku. He doubts he could make the thought of losing a… love sound so dire if he didn't have one. But Lelouch can't—won't dwell on that now.
"You… You blackmail me and still dress it up as a choice?" Villetta is exposing more than she thinks by clenching the arms of the chair as hard as she is.
"This isn't just about you anymore, don't you realize? Anything you do will also affect him. This isn't just about me, either. It's about protecting my people."
"Your people?"
"Those who stand with me," Lelouch clarifies without question and her stare falters. "He is a good person, you know this, and there are too few people like him – eleven or otherwise."
"He… deserves better than you," Villetta quietly admits.
Ohgi is her weakness, but he's also Lelouch's weakness. She's spent roughly half a year living with this man, seeing him at his most vulnerable and intimate and sharing these sides of herself as well in a bonding relationship that wouldn't have otherwise happened – he got in way over his head but obviously cares deeply for her. Perhaps they are not sides she wanted to know she has, maybe she doesn't consider them to be real and she's free to determine whatever she wishes about them, but Ohgi is…
"Yes," Lelouch likewise agrees, "he does."
That seems to surprise her. All this time behind a mask, a faceless enemy promising only destruction to the unjust, a symbol rather than a person, perhaps she didn't think a human heart could beat at Zero's center.
"Jeremiah, you… really believe in this?"
"I believe in him, yes," the guardsman answers resolutely and without hesitation – it feels pretty good. "I understand your apprehension, but you know I would not stand with him, take these risks, if I didn't. Things cannot stay the way they are"
True enough, Jeremiah has been fanatical in his dedication to Britannia – Lelouch might've thought it was purely selfish interest in rising up the tiers, but now with all this business regarding his mother, perhaps Jeremiah isn't as shallow as he seemed.
"…What…" Villetta is able to hold herself upright in the chair and rub her face with tentative resignation. "What would you want me to do?"
Yes, about that—Lelouch opens his mouth but feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He turns away and presses it to his ear.
"We have to leave." C.C.'s surprisingly alarmed voice speaks on the other end. "Now."
"So impatient," Lelouch calmly replies, knowing he's being heard by the other two. "I'll be—"
"THEY have Suzaku."
•-•
-••-
["Shouldn't this be happening before or after school?" Suzaku asks. "Or at least during our free period?"
"You're not actually complaining, are you?" is Lelouch's blasé dismissal.
"Just wondering after your intentions," Suzaku mutters semi-loudly.
Making Lelouch lift an eyebrow at him.
"I mean, you don't have to protect me."
"I do what I want to." Lelouch lifts his nose. "Those cretins don't concern me. After everything, it's not so unreasonable for you to have a skip period to adjust and relax. As the Vice President of the Student Council, it is practically my duty to aid you in this transition."
"So you pulled me out of P.E. for the rest of the week to adjust and relax by peeling potatoes?" Suzaku skeptically questions, looking to Lelouch standing next to him at the kitchen island where he's helping his friend prepare for cooking dinner later.
Lelouch, apparently, made the executive decision to get Suzaku "excused" from gym class courtesy of a rather mysteriously obtained but official pass from a guidance counselor.
Suzaku isn't sure if he agrees and realizes Lelouch is also using this time to purposely avoid his most detested class, but… also realizes that the gesture itself isn't such a bad thing. The older boy cut the entire school day yesterday and it was… odd. Lelouch skipping lessons isn't unusual, but a full day? And after their… moment in the bathroom? Seems like obvious avoidance but somehow that just seems so… high school for Lelouch? To kiss Suzaku and then leave him to simmer alone with wonder – if Lelouch had been gone longer Suzaku would think the Britannian was doing it on purpose as some kind of romance mind-game.
Although, it… is kind of endearing that Mister Cool could be this awkward.
"Chopping and peeling can be therapeutic," says the prince dicing stalks of celery with a rhythmic run of his blade.
"Maybe for you," Suzaku grumbles at the stubborn spud in his grip that he can only seem to hack off chunks of skin with the knife rather than, well, actual peels.
Lelouch looks at the not-handy work and grins.
"You're in the military but you don't know how to peel potatoes? Didn't they teach you anything?" the homemaker teases, wiping his hands on his apron and sidling up close to the soldier.
"They don't like numbers touching their food."—It's out of Suzaku's mouth before he realizes, and the discomfort of those words snaps around both of them like a padlock. Lelouch's hands falter and Suzaku vainly tries to swallow the words he didn't really mean to say out loud.
Lelouch doesn't retort or scathingly scorn, just gently takes Suzaku's untrained hands and puppets them under his careful, artful, masterful pair. He firmly holds Suzaku's hand clutching the root vegetable and glides the knife just under the skin with the other hand so the right amount of pressure can be felt. Lelouch's hands are soft but not pampered, and they feel nice on Suzaku's skin.
"You're not trying to whittle a stick. Dig in a little and take it slow with the contours." Lelouch's voice is patient and soothing, and Suzaku realizes this is probably how he would teach Nunnally who needs to feel how to do it.
Suzaku can suddenly feel his heart beating in his hands and wonders—hopes Lelouch can't hear or feel it pounding in his chest.
"Just like that." Lelouch takes the fully skinned potato and places it in an empty bowl beside another bowl full of others waiting to be peeled. He looks at Suzaku with a smile—
That rather quickly flattens under surprised eyes at the sight of Suzaku's blushing face.
"Right." The brunet takes another potato and tries to repeat what he was shown.
"Careful and steady. It's not a race," Lelouch instructs instead of acknowledging Suzaku's apparent embarrassment. "At least, not until you get better at it."
That sounds like an entendre and it makes Suzaku turn even redder and nearly slice open his own thumb.
"I said careful and steady," Lelouch admonishes. "I should think you at least know how to follow orders."
The younger releases pent-up breath but doesn't say anything else. Lelouch smiles a little seemingly to himself as he continues cutting the rest of the celery stalk and carrots that will be added to a light roast he's letting cook on low through the afternoon in a crock-pot for tonight's dinner. Suzaku steals furtive glances now far more distracted and feels less able than before to peel these blasted root foods, but he manages somehow, trying to carve away the nerves with each potato skin.
Soon enough they've finished. Lelouch adds the assorted chunks to the pot while Suzaku cleans the knives and cutting boards – because that much he can do.
But the lack of words between them is louder than clashing knightmare battles.
Suzaku dries his hands with a towel, watching Lelouch pinch a little more of this and that into the pot, stir and taste, before closing it with the glass lid and adjust the dial setting.
It occurs to Suzaku that they probably won't be discussing the bathroom face-maul. It almost feels like Lelouch knows Suzaku is waiting for something and deliberately not doing or saying anything, and it's maddening.
"So, are we going to peel and chop various other vegetables for the rest of the week?" Suzaku tries to joke when Lelouch turns towards him – but it's mirth without wings and falls splat on the floor right between them. He kind of wishes he'd just stayed silent.
"Practice makes perfect," is Lelouch's snappy deadpan response.
But his stare.
It's… so adult and precise. It's Lelouch but it's not Lelouch. It's the cloudy musk of yesterday's kiss and it's scary but also… tingly; a small quiver in Suzaku's bones. This isn't the snotty kid prince. This is the handsome outcast that knows what he wants like a prowling panther. When did Lelouch learn to stare like that? How is Lelouch even capable of staring like that?
Suzaku is just a giant, breathing heartbeat.
He almost feels like prey, helpless in the trance of a snake feeling anxiety bubble in his belly – that spikes when Lelouch steps closer. Suzaku closes his eyes, thinking he much preferred the kiss that surprised him rather than the slow-burning tension baking his skin and how he's pretty sure that his flapping heart will fly out of his mouth if he tries to speak. But it isn't fear. It's nervous… something. He can feel Lelouch's breath on his mouth and it's like all his nerves and senses are magnetized to the body in front of him just barely not touching… lingering heat crackling between them…
But
Nothing
Happens.
Suzaku cracks his green eyes open seeing Lelouch's smirk.
"If you want to go back to class tomorrow, or… come here, that's your choice," he so very coolly says as if whatever heated, riling essence he just had sunk under his skin (Suzaku didn't just imagine that, did he? How could he?) and he pulls the towel so very slowly from Suzaku's strangling fingers. "But I'll be here."
Suzaku is instantly irritated that he's pretty sure he's radiating red all over and sweating in places he didn't know he could nervously sweat while Lelouch is so damn nonchalant and aloof like a snake slithering across still water. Then again, Lelouch is probably incapable of actually breaking a sweat, the fussy prince.
"You're also welcome to join us for dinner and enjoy your hard work," Lelouch adds absurdly casually. "I know Nunnally would love it."
Suzaku slightly scoffs – this guy… is he seriously using Nunnally against Suzaku right now?
"Unfortunately, I have work tonight, so I can't."
Lelouch's mouth softly bends into a smile that feels a tad… mocking?
"That's too bad," the older boy says, turning away and hanging the towel on the oven handle.
Suzaku watches with a longing gaze and can't help agreeing.]
-••-
•-•
Suzaku grips the knife with a small hand and a heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird as he lunges to plunge it deep into his father's flesh. It sinks through skin almost like through butter and blood instantly weeps from the wound. His little, ten-year-old feet are off the floor, the pristine wooden planks and white rug speckling with red, as he falls with his father. A towering man that crashes like a redwood. Suzaku is left kneeling in the lake of blood that just might become an ocean and swallow him…
He looks down at his stained hands.
At his father's glassy, dead eyes—
And jumps to his feet with tears welling in his emeralds eyes he inherited from his mother, throwing the knife down.
No.
This isn't real.
This isn't happening.
He didn't—
Suzaku whirls around and sprints from the room, through parted paper doors—
Reentering from the darkness with the same knife clutched in his shaking hand.
And again, he's lunging, stabbing, feeling the world fall out of place as he kneels in blood that should be less than what would flood his homeland. Just a lake instead of a tsunami seeping into the cracks of the polished wooden floor rather than their small island home. His father lies in his own blood blooming in a circle on the large white rug like their flag hanging proudly on the wall—
But it's still a stain. It's on his hands. It doesn't wash off.
No.
This isn't real.
This isn't happening.
He wouldn't—
Suzaku's eyes overflow with tears as he races out of the room—
Only to return again from the darkness.
Take his father's life again.
Run away.
Return.
He can't escape. There isn't any escape. No outrunning. How many times has he tried? Tears unending. Less like a memory and more like a nightmare, but he can't wake up. How did he get here? He remembers lying down to nap in Lelouch's bed and now he's just—
Throwing his weight into the thrust of the knife, because he's just a boy and his father is the mountain that wouldn't bow to the sun. Son… The rising one on the wall Suzaku wanted to protect. And the blood is dark and hot on his skin, thick in his nose and swimming on his tongue, his stomach curdles. He leaps up, dropping the knife—
No.
This isn't real.
This isn't happening.
He couldn't—
Suzaku is staring down in horror at his hands thick with blood when water falls from above him. Rain. He looks up, maybe for the first time since being in this… dream to see the universe staring down on him. It's billion starry eyes twinkling near and far while a faceless Jupiter looms directly overhead. Suzaku's eyes drop back down to his hands being rinsed of red, streams dripping from his teenage knuckles and fingertips—
Other than a thin thread strung around his left pinky, slackened but leading right into the darkness of the looping doorway that's been trapping him. A cage. Not a dream or a nightmare. The rain falls harder, thicker, washing away the blood lake. Or at least diluting it. There is no clearing this slate, can't forget—
The red thread tugs his finger—
The doors slam shut on the string. No longer paper now metal like the ones to the Ashford Clubhouse—
He beats the doors with his fists. Yanks the handles. They don't budge.
Won't let Suzaku leave.
Can't keep Suzaku trapped.
The thread is unbreakable and it tightens before pulling like the trunk of an elephant, ripping Suzaku right through the seam—
•-•
-••-
[Of course, it rains the next day, heavily, essentially negating outdoor activities in physical education class – not that such stormy weather extinguishes all activity. As far as Lelouch is concerned, there's no difference. The sky is dark and the clouds are clapping with thunder but it might as well be clear and sunny in his mind. His bigger problem at present is the pizza-witch that is currently threatening the sanctity of Nunnally's bedroom not unlike the poison gas she was masked to be.
"I told you I don't want you in here—Don't touch that!" Lelouch snaps, yanking a glass figurine of a horse from C.C.'s probably greasy fingers. He delicately wipes the pink-tinted glass with a handy handkerchief from his pocket and placing it back atop Nunnally's dresser.
"Holing up in your room, staring at the same four walls, gets very dull. I need a change of view. Where else should I go?"
The prince calmly glowers but can't admit he doesn't have an answer.
"I don't like you in here," is all he can huff in response, flexing his healthy authoritative voice in a room where it doesn't belong. Like a cannonball through a china shop.
"Relax," she tonelessly says, not even a hint of comfort fluffing her tone. "I won't touch anything in this room nor will I leave it."
Despite Lelouch's irritation, he's instantly cooled by her plain words of concession.
Everything about this makes him uneasy and yet… it's sort of a blessing.
"Don't touch anything," Lelouch sternly repeats as he walks out of the room.
"…Enjoy your date."
Lelouch's spine ices but he manages to throw a melting glare at her back just before the door hisses shut. A door he decides to lock without telling her. She should manage well enough without feeding for a few hours. Lelouch proceeds down the hall toward the kitchen thinking of making tea when lightning flashes and thunder booms and bangs overhead—
But it's the slamming crash of hinged doors in the rotunda that alerts his nerves. He rushes to the front of the clubhouse to see the cause—
Finding a sopping Suzaku breathlessly dripping all over the floor.
Lelouch raises an eyebrow.
"10% less wetness really worth running through the rain?" he lightly teases. Walking or running in this weather a person is still going to get wet regardless.
Said brunet drops his bag to the floor with a(n ironically) dry glance before shaking the water off his hair with his hands as if he were a stray animal.
How undignified…
"It's dangerous to be out in a storm," the soldier supplies.
And yet he still ran through one, over dangerously slippery grounds no less. Lelouch wasn't actually… entirely certain that Suzaku would come again today, so he's honestly surprised to see him burst through the doors like they're broken floodgates. He's even… pleased that the idiot rushed over through such weather.
"You're a walking hazard, getting the floor all wet," Lelouch scolds, grabbing the younger boy by his elbow. "Come, I'll get you some towels."
-•-
"Maybe it's not such a bad idea to skip today," Suzaku says as he rubs his head with a fluffy white hand towel.
"Because of the storm?" Lelouch asks conversationally, something he realizes he doesn't really do (or does he?) as he sets out a battery lantern alongside some lighted, battery candles on the coffee table, just in case. Their soft, faux-flame flicker adds to the low light of Lelouch's desk lamp filling his room behind closed curtains.
"Do you think the power will cut out?" Suzaku asks.
Nunnally should be fine. The storm sounds bad but predictions indicate it should disperse before the afternoon and she isn't frightened by the noise anymore.
"Even if it does there are emergency generators." Lelouch turns around seeing that even though Suzaku has removed his topcoat the rain apparently soaked right through the seemingly thick layer to bleed his white undershirt. Forcing the rather transparent front to cling to his chest. By the looks of it, Suzaku must be cold. "Your clothes won't be dry and wearable soon enough," Lelouch says a lot louder than he intended and slightly startles the other boy. "You should take them off. I'll lend you a set of mine." It'll be long in the limbs, maybe, but their builds are similar.
He doesn't wait for any sort of acknowledgment from Suzaku before walking to his closet, but he does hear an awkward laugh tumble from Suzaku's mouth. Lelouch hangs the wet topcoat on a clothes rack, used for carting clean uniforms from the wash, sitting near the closet and returns to Suzaku with a fresh set.
Suzaku, his childhood mate, standing in his bedroom in only undershorts.
A pair of plain old striped ones, at that.
(Lelouch has to give credit to the weather; it's nearly doing half the work for him.)
Lelouch hands over his uniform shamelessly eyeing the bare boy. Suzaku has a… nice body? Is that a thing people say? Not the first time Lelouch has seen another boy in their skivvies, but this is more pleasing on the eyes. Could be more pleasing if not for the angering sight of bruise stains of bullying on his skin. Lelouch is touching them again without even thinking of it, a nurturing reflex from being a surrogate parent but not one he shares with anyone other than Nunnally.
"Does it still hurt? I can get the liniment," Lelouch offers, fingertips caressing a bruise creeping over Suzaku's shoulder.
"No, it's fine," he answers, a bit quickly.
Lelouch doesn't pull his tracing fingertips away, drawn to the memory of healing kisses and the way Suzaku's face reddened in the bathroom just days ago. How that led to a different kind of kiss. Was that a healing one? It felt—
Thunder crashes down on them and Suzaku jumps into a poorly-suppressed simper—
While Lelouch is struck with the memory of the gunshot that speared right through him, shatter his very core when it claimed Suzaku. They were only just reunited after seven years and then—
Suzaku died once, as far as Lelouch could tell, and the instant his friend was in danger again after Clovis he swooped in for the rescue. Timing is critical, it's an art, but it's not to be wasted and once Lelouch has decided something he doesn't dally, dither and would never wait for somebody else to make it happen.
Lelouch takes his fate and life into his own hands.
The discarded prince leans in, boldly as he pleases, with his hand skimming up Suzaku's neck, seeing the soldier swallow, and seals their lips together. It occurs to Lelouch that this is the second time he's taken a kiss from his friend, but it's also the third time he hasn't been stopped or pushed away.
Rejected.
Suzaku is accepting, an open door that welcomes him inside, and Lelouch pulls them closer, dipping into a deep kiss. Suzaku tightly grabs hold of Lelouch's elbows and it's like their bathroom kiss all over again. Almost. There's a touch of more certainty grounding them. Lelouch's fingers thread up Suzaku's nape into damp, frizzy brown curls and he can feel the roughened patch of the reunion scar with his other hand that snakes around the soldier as if with a mind of its own. He wants… desires to have—claim Suzaku.
In a way that nobody else can.
Or should.
"Not such a bad idea to skip today, right?" Lelouch murmurs against Suzaku's moist lips, a familiar moment he's content to relive.
"…Yeah…" Suzaku breathes back under a more distant rumble of thunder rolling above but away from them.
The clean uniform plops on the table while a wet one drops to the floor in a most unruly fashion and Lelouch is pushing a compliant Suzaku toward the bed as they descend again into feverish kisses. There's no fog in Lelouch's head, his brain is very much at the wheel and he's very aware of everything. Of himself, of Suzaku, of how hot these uniforms can get. It's a lot of stiff black and Lelouch is tugging off his topcoat and making himself more comfortable between Suzaku's bent legs… It's not something Lelouch has felt for anybody before but somehow he understands this new language his body is speaking. Maybe it's been whispering to him in his sleep or maybe it was always there and finally has reason to wake. Doesn't make much of a difference to Lelouch. His brain has new gears to shift and everything in his being is telling him that this with Suzaku is correct.
Not so much like the stars and planets have aligned, but that the math is right and doesn't lie.
Because math never lies.
It's math.
It brings comfortable logic to a situation where Lelouch might've felt discomfort, anxious, insecure or otherwise. He just feels the deep beats of his heart bouncing around inside his skin and the fingers curling into the loose fabric on the back of his undershirt. Lelouch doesn't want to part from tasting the learning shift of their tongues for even a second and before he even realizes it's happening the buttons of his shirt are freed by Suzaku's fingers. Feeling encouraged rather than invasive, Lelouch sheds his uniform shirt and it's almost instantly replaced with Suzaku's sweeping hands. They smooth hot reassurance into Lelouch's skin and he pushes a hand between them to ease some comfort from his pants when a need for air finally parts their mouths. Lelouch is intending to dive back in as is fly is loosened—
But Suzaku has noticed a pattern of bruises on Lelouch's skin, on his arm where the bully restrained him. Suzaku pushes himself up to gingerly touch the finger-shaped splotches with concern and sadness.
"You lied," he murmurs through a droopy frown.
"I said it was fine, and it is," Lelouch corrects in an even but quiet tone. "You don't have to worry about it."
It looks bad but it really doesn't hurt. It just stands out on Lelouch's pearly skin.
But of course, Suzaku doesn't look convinced. (And that's a familiar reflection of Lelouch himself.)
Rain is pelting the windows and trampling the roof overhead while Suzaku's fingers slide away with regret, slinking into the curve of Lelouch's shoulder and neck. There's a lingering stain of guilt on his face before he closes his fretful eyes and pulls the older boy in for a kiss. A measuring kiss that sifts deeper into their mouths and brings Suzaku's other hand skating up Lelouch's bumpy spine. Again thunder booms and lightning cracks, drenching the world outside in water and dark, natural chaos with a tease of danger. Somehow it's the perfect atmosphere – or maybe that's just Lelouch not knowing what is or isn't romantic. It's almost like clashing in battle, crushing enemies under his boots, but better.
(Because this is… partnership.
Lelouch and Suzaku working together, achieving something they couldn't apart.)
Well, not exactly…)
It starts as settling into the partial familiarity of their bolder mouths, the rubbing of their open lips and tentative tongues until it's as if Lelouch is searching for an answer in Suzaku's skin – to a question he'd never asked – as his hands and lips caress every inch. He listens to Suzaku's hitched breaths as his mouth travels down neck, feels skin pebble and muscles tighten under his fingers smoothing over contours. Lelouch follows his haunted senses over a breathing chest, tasting the hinted answer warming Suzaku's taut, smooth flesh with every press of his lips. He chases the unknown with feasting, fleeting nibbles that make the enigma under him quiver and sigh like a faint breeze ghosting over a pond. Lelouch is hardly even noting his path as his mouth travels downward, no breadcrumbs to follow back (he doesn't want to go back), just heeding the secret call of his blood singing through Suzaku's body until he hits waistband. He ricochets and kisses his way back up, licking over a quivering navel and then tastes his way back up between a pair of stiff nipples, one of which Lelouch idly rubs with his thumb.
A tremble of Suzaku's voice through the heating air calls Lelouch's wandering mind back home and he opens eyes not even realizing they were closed. He rises and sees that Suzaku has also risen and is completely red. From the tips of his ears down to below his navel he's swathed in a glow that rivals the shackle of Geass in the eyes of those Lelouch conquers, that only he can see – but where there is tranquil submission, here is an unsettled wind in grassy green eyes.
"Are you alright?" Lelouch's soft question is chased by a deep but more distant growl of thunder.
"It's… just a lot." It's hard to tell if Suzaku is certain of anything himself. "And I haven't… been with anyone before."
Neither has Lelouch. "Do you want to stop?" Because unlike so many pawns, rooks or otherwise, Suzaku always has a choice.
Suzaku holds what looks like a considering pause and it actually seizes Lelouch's heart in a freezing grip, afraid for a second that this might end.
"No," he answers. "No, but we don't have a lot of time." Suzaku looks uncomfortable – but maybe that's understandable, being new at this. And apparently, Lelouch just tried to tongue-bathe him, so…
(So, "whatever we're going to do, we should get to it" is what he means?)
At any rate, Suzaku is right about their limited time. Lelouch more than doubts he'll just roll out of bed and go to class after… after, but it's probably best to heed his friend. Lelouch could've been happily lost tracing Suzaku's every vein with his tongue and that level of blissful unawareness is almost kind of… unnerving? Because it's not like him? Or because he doesn't care about being so entranced?
Lelouch pulls himself away from Suzaku, remember something vital, to rifle in a low desk drawer for the totally-innocent-hand-lotion bottle. When he looks back at Suzaku it's clear in both of their stares that they're crossing over the line between friendship and… whatever comes after this. …Should that be scary? Lelouch feels confident that what is happening now and what follows is how it should be. He's led the way this far, so… down go his Ashford slacks and undershorts and up goes a strange smile wiggling on Suzaku's mouth.
"…What is that smi—Don't smile like that at a time like this," Lelouch scolds – this is exactly the wrong time to make that face.
"I'm not," Suzaku very weakly defends.
Lelouch is not amused, "And I suppose you're not laughing, either."
"No—I mean, it's not—I'm sorry," flushed Suzaku flounders, still unable to stop simpering. "You could let me be a little awkward right now, can't you?"
Lelouch's face thoughtfully relaxes. He spoons up closer between Suzaku's legs, smoothing his hand on the outside of one thigh.
"Just realized your childhood friend has manly genitals, didn't you—?"
"Jeez—!" Suzaku slaps his hands over his grinning face. "Don't say manly genitals 'at a time like this.' Or ever."
Lelouch softly grins and wedges himself on his knees between open thighs that softly sandwich him. He gently eases the weight of his hips down while lightly kissing the back of Suzaku's fingers, spotting over knobby knuckles until they pull away like a curtain and Lelouch is able to kiss that awkward little mouth. Suzaku's smile melts against Lelouch's lips and he slips his hand over an ivory neck, body lightly shifting as their bodies meet. There's focus on the slow motions of their mouths again, now with hips and the warm touch of their rubbing skin – like easing into a hot bath. Slowly, it doesn't seem so strange. The Britannian boy nurtures a desire to explore Suzaku's body and understand it like rolling his fingers across the keys of a piano for the first time – all he wants to do is make it sing. His fingers skim over and into counters still seeking the secrets sewn into Suzaku's skin with the urge heating his blood, smoothing over taut skin not his own and noting every bend, quiver and shift under his touch—
Until he chances brushing over the soldier's stiff nipple and a muffled sound passes between their tongues to ripple down Suzaku' body. Lelouch spoons off Suzaku's lips with checking eyes, listening to the soft moan turning in the brunet's throat when he sweeps over it again. He smoothes over the standing nub and watches pleasure darken Suzaku's cheeks more, feeling a hint of fingernails in his back.
"Have a lot of practice at this, do you?" Suzaku breathily murmurs with that unusual cheeky undertone again.
"Lots," Lelouch easily grins. He's actually just a fast learner.
Suzaku lightly shoves the teasing Britannian's shoulder.
"We can stop whenever you want," Lelouch says clearly and in all seriousness.
Suzaku gazes up at him for a beat and then slides a hand over a nape of dark locks, "I don't want to stop." Then he lifts his head up a little to reach Lelouch's lips.
Maybe not yet, Lelouch thinks, but it's still a… good (thrilling, exciting, relieving) thing to hear.
Lelouch, of course, hasn't with anyone, either. Nobody has ever warranted even the glancing thought. Even as he hears Suzaku's soft moans and feels Suzaku's body stirring under him as he rubs a sensitive nipple, he doesn't think he's missed much. He leaves Suzaku's lips again to hear shy moans and watch the bashful blushing while he more firmly tweaks the pink bud. The younger boy turns his face as if trying to hide under his own flush and it makes Lelouch smile. He kisses a turned cheek, feeling the heat seep into his lips, and lets his fingers skate away farther down Suzaku's body, grazing a full arousal tented in boxers between them. Lelouch tucks his fingers under the waistband and, when Suzaku lifts his own hips, slowly pulls them up thighs and over knees. The former royal sits up and unabashedly takes in the view, Suzaku still very much a red lobster, before taking the lotion bottle to squeeze some on his fingers. Their eyes meet again and Lelouch realizes the tremendous amount of trust it takes Suzaku to allow himself to be this vulnerable; on his back with his knees apart and…
And then Lelouch's brain just… sort of falls between Suzaku's spread thighs.
Feeling it pulse in his manliness.
Perhaps he is only a skin sack of hormones, after all.
Lelouch smears the sweet-smelling lotion on his fingers and lowers them, watching Suzaku's body twitch before grabbing the pillow under his head when a coated fingertip presses and circles his entrance before dipping. Suzaku is tight around just one finger and Lelouch tries to be gentle as he slowly pushes in farther into this convulsing heat tempting him in more hasty throbs.
"Is this all right?" Lelouch softly asks when he's in up to his knuckle.
Suzaku mutely nods.
Lelouch withdraws, adds more lotion and repeats. He paints the scrunched opening a little and slides in his finger faster, pushing deeper. Suzaku's body bows in a way that angles his backend down and Lelouch briefly wonders if maybe it would've been easier to do this with Suzaku on his knees – but then he wouldn't be able to see his face. Doesn't look like he doesn't like it, at any rate, and Lelouch will stop the moment that changes. For now, Suzaku's body looks to be reacting positively with his scarlet skin, formed erection, piercing nipples, twitching thighs and gripping—
"…You're staring…" Suzaku mutters in a bashful shuffle, looking away from Lelouch's intense gaze.
"Should I be looking somewhere else?" Lelouch asks between dubious and sincerity. He's fairly certain visual confirmation is important.
Suzaku mutters something in Japanese that Lelouch can't distinguish and turns his face bashfully away again.
A small, twitching smirk of amusement escapes Lelouch's control.
Lelouch realizes it's not unreasonable for Suzaku to be self-conscious or uncomfortable – but he shouldn't be. Rather, Lelouch doesn't want him to feel that way. So he kisses the corner of Suzaku's mouth, coaxing the brunet into returning with a fuller, open kiss and he seems happy for the distraction. Their tongues turn in a slow dance and Lelouch can feel Suzaku's tighten around his finger with hands gripping his shoulder when he slides in a second, pushing a wave through Suzaku's hips. A mewl hums in the soldier's chest as his hand rakes into and holds Lelouch's licorice locks through the loosening of their lips. The Britannian feels emboldened and takes the leap to mouth Suzaku's neck while twisting his fingers in deeper and the smothered sound Suzaku makes seeps out of his throat a little stronger. Lelouch spreads his wet digits in Suzaku's clamping ring of heat, tasting the nervy shifting of skin faintly dewing with sweat (or is that still just rainwater?). He bites as if to have more, to devour, and listens to his cherished friend's breathing hasten, sharpen – his body can't seem to settle on being tense or lax. The older boy himself is feeling a churning rush to his hardening length but is still enjoying carefully plucking Suzaku's strings. He tries nibbling at Suzaku's earlobe (because that's a thing that happens) and it rolls a shudder through the brunet's body all the way down to the opening squeezing around his fingers.
Seems Suzaku's body is sensitive and Lelouch figures that works to his advantage. He moves downward, painting Suzaku's chest with his hot breath until his returns to the pink pair he only sampled earlier – tasting one with a light brush of his tongue tip. Suzaku's voice croaks a bit, sounding like it escaped but caught halfway and Lelouch repeats, hearing more stifled sounds. Seems his nipples are also not just sensitive but arousing, and that's a good thing – not just because it's useful for helping to distract him from the long fingers filling and spreading him, but because it also seems to make him feel good. He squeezes tighter around Lelouch's shifting, diving fingers while a tongue lightly laps at a pink stud that pushes up into the wet teasing with a bow of Suzaku's back. Lelouch flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times more, his steamy breath still pooling over Suzaku's skin, before he closes his mouth around and tests a little suck. Suzaku's clamps even harder inside and his legs squish Lelouch's sides with an encouraging sound – less muffled by nerves than it has been. So Lelouch does it again and doesn't stop, hands rewarding him with a sharp clench in his hair. He pokes at the standing bud in his mouth, thinking he can almost feel Suzaku's pleasure through osmosis as it begins to meld their skin together. Lelouch's body is hot and his heart is beating in more than just his chest when he lifts his mouth to land on the other erected nipple and slides in a third finger. Hips rut up against Lelouch, heels push his back down, and already he's not sure how much more he can take. His childhood friend is gasping, naked and pleasured under him, and it's all racing straight to a place that (as far as he can tell) leads most other people.
Lelouch rises from Suzaku's chest, mouth wet and cheeks burning – throbs throbbing when he sees the… pure desire melted in green eyes. He asks if Suzaku is ready, because he'll wait if he has to, and the Japanese boy nods with little more than a murmured sound. Lelouch takes the lotion to coat himself—flinching at the coldness. He reapplies to Suzaku as well (apparently can't have too much between them) and hears preparing breaths while watching his long digits paint and push inside a boy that was once too stubborn to share. (And now he gives everything?) Lelouch aligns himself with only a glance back at evergreens because more than that is just a little too much at the moment and then tries to ease himself in. A strange sound groans out of Suzaku's throat almost as if the air is being let out of his body when Lelouch pushes into him. Lelouch's breath is caught in the daze around his head at feeling so much tight heat hugging his hard flesh. He's grounded by the drag of nails down his back.
And certainly, at this moment, both boys share the astonishment that, yes, this is totally happening.
Lelouch is inside Suzaku.
They went from barely having their first kiss in the bathroom to inserting in barely three days?
It's weird and glorious and weird and amazing and weird and… damn, are Suzaku's nails a lot sharper than they look.
"Is it… Are you alright?" Lelouch asks with concern, only halfway inside. Suzaku looks… "Does it hurt?"
"It's fine," Suzaku pushes out of his lungs. Squeezing around Lelouch's intrusion.
Lelouch hesitates a moment, wondering in the contradiction of words and body.
But, he continues to push in anyway, making Suzaku's body curve and tighten all over.
"Is it… too deep?" Lelouch asks.
"It's really hard."
Lelouch is slightly amused by the husky murmur, "Is that a bad thing?"
Suzaku shakes his head, "It's… weird."
Lelouch looks down at their connection. This sort of thing… hurts for a reason, doesn't it? Lelouch tried to do what he's supposed to do (according to his thorough research), but Suzaku is… His body is… very tight.
"Is it too big?" Lelouch honestly asks, lifting his eyes—
To see Suzaku's lips sardonically curling at him.
"Don't get cocky!" he chides, tugging a fistful of Lelouch's hair, making the older boy wince.
And then lightly chuckle.
"Interesting word choice," Lelouch can't help quipping.
Suzaku sighs with a wry grin, hand sliding out black hair to gently cup Lelouch's face. Thumb tracing under his left eye.
And Lelouch leans down for a kiss that affectionately joins their lips.
"Is it bad?" Lelouch quietly asks in the tapering of their kiss and tension of their connection. They can still stop if it's too much…
Suzaku lightly shakes his head, "No…" and his hands slide into the loose hair dampening at Lelouch's nape to pull him into more kisses.
Relaxing kisses.
Lelouch tries to gently mouth any discomfort from Suzaku's body as the boy adjusts to being fully entered when he earns an intriguing sound from Suzaku's throat and he drifts lower. The older boy listens to the hitched breathing from the younger under him as he tongues a scarlet ear again, tracing the lobe. Perhaps not… the most pleasing taste but the shivers it sends down Suzaku's spine – and around Lelouch's length – are more than worth it. He isn't sure how long, or how much time he should give Suzaku, though, and he experimentally pulls his hips back, sliding out just enough to make a set of nails streak his back again. But Suzaku sounds… contented? Maybe? There's a thread of pleasure twisting with discomfort and maybe that's enough. For now. Lelouch slips his fingers between their chests to tease a pink nub like before to help strengthen the weaves of pleasure, and it seems to work. Suzaku squirms under the light pinching from fingertips and the moans that drip from his lips are sweet and fragile but his breath still somehow sounds like a wistful breeze.
Like a nostalgic memory shaded by something dark.
Speaking from experience, Lelouch thinks he understands that spectral feeling.
And why he senses it.
(Poetic, isn't he?)
But right now isn't about anything other than right now. It's not easy to forget (to let go) and although history may hound Lelouch at every step (to the point of directing his future) he wants to have moments that are his. And now Suzaku's.
Theirs.
Lelouch moves his hips again; his beginning movements are slow, shallow and careful. He listens to Suzaku's stilted gasps and feels him tighten. Watches the pressure building up inside him water and stream from his eyes even when he closes them. Lelouch has to admit he might be getting the better end of this deal, sinking into clenching, soft heat that melts his bones, but endeavors to make it better. He comforts with more kisses and realizes the boy is straining with hisses.
"Don't hold your breath," Lelouch puffs against the corner of Suzaku's panting mouth, feeling nails carve down his back.
Suzaku releases his breath, lungs loose around sounds that are almost words pushing from the hard flesh pushing up inside him. Lelouch curls his hand around Suzaku's stiffness and strokes to keep it strong and make his cherished friend feel not just good but better. The younger boy reacts, body convulsing from his limbs to his insides that grip Lelouch's length when he slides in deeper. He lightly tongues Suzaku's ear and it makes nails dig deeper into his boney back along with ghosting moans and a shift of his hips—
He suddenly cries out from his gut when Lelouch strikes a certain something inside him that singes his nerves.
"Feel good?" Lelouch pants without stopping his hips – he knew for what he was aiming but it still caught him a little by surprise. Then again he's not super sure of what he should've been expecting.
Suzaku's initial answer is a spilling, stumble of a moan practically eaten up into his body with the older boy's thrusts. Quite the boost to Lelouch's ego, if he should say so.
"…Good…" Suzaku eventually huffs out.
The soldier seems to be chasing his own lungs and body as Lelouch thrusts in and out at a smoother pace. Wasn't so hard to find a good rhythm, Lelouch thinks as he grabs Suzaku's hip, but then again maintaining it is another matter. He pushes himself up for a better angle on his knees, making the other boy's open legs fall near his shoulders, and continues to pump a slick shaft with his hand as he throws himself a little harder—granting another surprised cry from Suzaku's throat. This isn't as hard as Lelouch thought it might be.
(…heh, hard.)
"Do you like it?" Lelouch hears himself asking in bold pants, staring down at the glaze of pleasure on Suzaku's face. "Here?"
"…Good," is all Suzaku can seem to voice again and the Britannian decides that's good enough – he's wearing it all on his face, anyway.
It's a mesmerizing sight.
And yet, there's also something… still off about it. Probably just the virginal experience (for both of them) but it does nibble uncomfortably at the edges of Lelouch's clearer thoughts. Maybe that's why his violets slide down at their connection. At the full girth of his bare erection sliding out and in, disappearing all the way to the trimmed patch of black hair. He stares at the tight ring swallowing his length and feeling Suzaku grip him every time he returns – not wanting to part but desperately wanting to savor the return. Lelouch almost can't pull out when he strikes that sensitive spot inside Suzaku and is clamped so divinely it makes his head sway. He's not entirely sure he should continue aiming for that button, at this rate. Too much too fast. He shifts his focus upward, jerking the handful of Suzaku's shaft, hot and slick in his palm, jumping with every heave of his hips.
Feels good. But still weird.
(Who would even think of fitting bodies together this way in the first place?)
It's the right motions if the currents of Suzaku's body and voice are any guide. Just follow the rhythm and flow, not so complicated when Lelouch stops thinking so much – and their eyes connect. He sees his friend like he's never seen anybody before. Not right through like when analyzing, but something deep inside. For a moment it's unnerving because he realizes that means Suzaku might be seeing the same – but is that bad? Lelouch bites at Suzaku's neck before he can decide, closing the door before too much is seen, and feels sinking nails sink slowly scrape his shoulder blades as he listens to the brunet's moans surf over his lapping hips. Somehow their blood just knows where to take them and he's content to let it carry them away—
Abruptly Suzaku's whole body is a tight, stiff coil and with a scuttling sound, something spills past Lelouch's fingers. He slows—stops in surprise, feeling Suzaku squeeze almost unbearably around his beating erection and realizes that the younger has jumped ahead to the finish. Maybe it was all too much at once… or the right amount?
"…It…s… because before…" Suzaku murmurs, clearly embarrassed and looking as though he'd like to just fall through the floor right now. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," Lelouch says – he's pretty sure this should be a compliment?
Suzaku's fingernails unhook from skin and he re-grips behind pale shoulders.
"…You can keep going," he says.
"…Are you sure?"
But Suzaku nods with clear emerald eyes and Lelouch leans down to kiss him, feeling fingers clenching his shoulders. Lelouch is still unfinished but it's a bit… impolite. Suzaku isn't just a thing. This isn't all about Lelouch; it's about both of them being together.
It's not fun if he's alone.
Lelouch kisses Suzaku's lips again, savoring a lingering press before moving down his neck with traveling fingers. He revisits the places that made Suzaku's body become alive. He likes pleasuring Suzaku and that in itself makes him feel good, too. Isn't that the way it should be? So the prince redirects, sucking Suzaku's tongue and lightly pinching a nipple and then there's a hint of a laugh in Suzaku's throat instead. A slight snicker spooling into loose mewls around the still-hard flesh moving within him again, he doesn't sound displeased. Suzaku's body is more relaxed than before but is still tight and Lelouch's pulsing hardness eases out and in with more confidence than when they started. He just gave Suzaku bliss.
Not bad for the first time.
(The research absolutely helped.
And practice will make perfect.)
The secret Zero can feel the demand for bliss throbbing in his blood as he buries deeply into the velvet heat of Suzaku's body. He moves quickly and if he wasn't eager to slip over the tension of this peak he might be more concerned about this baser instinct. Suzaku is soon foaming again with panted moans, even ones that somewhat squeak against his rapidly rowing hips. Nails scrape the lower half of Lelouch's back but less like they're trying to contain something and more like they can't. The disgraced prince looks down at the pink face of his childhood friend pursed in more pleasure as he fills him deeply with his own flesh. It's a rushing, intoxicating feeling – which he uses to toss right back, or into, Suzaku. It only gets better the more the idiot enjoys it and that is where the real thrill lies. Without lie.
Lelouch is tempted to teeter-totter Suzaku on the brink for as long as he can, taste the craving on his tongue to just whip this boy into an unending frenzy. Reality, however, isn't so enthused. Lelouch finds himself out of steam rather suddenly and maybe too quickly. He hasn't exactly been counting the minutes. (…Or seconds. It's his first time, cut him some slack.) His lungs and muscles – some of which he didn't even know he had until now – burn with exhaustion over the churning wild inside him. He finds himself biting Suzaku between neck and shoulder even though he can barely breathe. Like controlling an animal that wants to claw out of his skin with every lunge of his flesh into Suzaku's squeezing heat. The brunet makes enough sounds for both of them even though right now Lelouch would like to watch those emerald eyes boil and ooze with their overflowing lust. (It's invigorating to see Suzaku this way, all stripped down almost like the boy he used to be rather than the… what he's become since then.) His own peak is tipping over, all too quickly, and perhaps with a bit of desperation, he works his hand and hips together to push Suzaku once more before—
Lelouch is almost certain he can feel his life-force surging from his body, but it's pretty damn relaxing. He rides through the crashing waves of flashing, hitching pleasure that funnels out of him, feeling Suzaku clench around and clasp to him with lingering sounds and another release wet between them.
He made Suzaku climax twice on the first try.
Because Lelouch is just that amazing.
But too hot. And empty. He rolls over and lies still on his back in his bed next to Suzaku just waiting for his breathing to calm and not thinking about anything. A surprisingly comfortable emptiness in his head filled only by the thunder still brooding outside, although it sounds like it's crept more into the distance even as rain still taps the windows.
But such absence of thought – or peace – can't last long for Lelouch. He feels the bed shift and glances mostly by reflex (because C.C.) and sees Suzaku turning over onto his belly, still with a rouge on his cheeks. It's a good look on him. Lelouch would like to see it—all of this again (but… is there room behind the mask?
How long or how much until it's too crowded in there?)
Right now he… just doesn't want to take his eyes off Suzaku's first afterglow, given by him.
"So… have you really ever done this with anybody else?" Suzaku tentatively asks, head resting on Lelouch's pillow scrunched in his folded arms. He sounds like he's expecting a certain answer but Lelouch isn't sure of which Suzaku wants to hear.
"No." For once Lelouch decides to be honest. Maybe Suzaku deserves that much, now.
Whatever he might've expected the brunet's reaction to be it's kicked out the window by a wide grin.
Lelouch is mildly annoyed. "What's with that look?"
"I had a feeling," Suzaku slyly says – but, sure, that's easy to say after the fact.
Lelouch doesn't know why that should deserve such a smug response and merely shortly sighs in response with closed eyes.
It's time for a nap.
Screw the rest of the school day.
Quiet blankets over them, aside from the lighter sheets of rain still thudding on the glass and roof. It's nice. And Lelouch thinks this right here is something he's glad to have. Another something worth defending against any force that might try to take it.
"I… I like this side of you," Suzaku says with soft sincerity.
Lelouch noncommittally hums but there's a warm, cozy smile snuggling him on the inside. (Behind a solid mask, where it'll be safe.) Then, with eyes still closed, he turns on his side toward Suzaku and drapes his arm over the bare back of his best friend. Because that's better than words. Because whatever else happens or comes, this moment (if nothing else) will always be this. And Suzaku will be his. What they were before now might be different, but not gone – just recreated.
Nothing in the Universe can ever change that and there's nothing Lelouch won't do to keep him.]
-••-
•-•
A hasty hop, skip and a jump and Lelouch arrives at Kamine Island under the cloak of an evening sky. Nunnally is safe, still on campus with Alice and Sayoko and the club crowd is otherwise occupied. Suzaku was alone. Didn't seem like a risk at the time. Ashford has… been a safe haven for so long – until Jeremiah.
Lelouch should've known better.
Whatever beast sleeping under his nose is waking—has woken.
He hasn't been and won't be safe until certain heads roll.
C.C. hasn't indicated much beyond Suzaku's precarious state, other than she can't share more. Which is frustrating. Lelouch alerted Sayoko to be extra cautious with Nunnally while Jeremiah finishes with Villetta and Schneizel.
(Heh. That still feels good.)
C.C. leads him to a cave Lelouch visited before – well, more like passed through in a stolen knightmare after nearly being blasted off the face of the planet by schnitzel—uh, Schneizel. It's empty, no trace of whatever it is the second prince was doing – which is good but reminds Lelouch to pick his brother's brain for that later—
Lelouch feels his Geass tingle behind his eyes, not activate just react, and he stops short of the wall at the back of the cave carved with a pattern of lines he doesn't quite recognize even though it somehow feels familiar…
"…C.C." he calls to her, caution striking a flat echo against the rocky cavern walls.
Her fingers stop just shy of caressing the stone slab; her long limey hair swaying when she looks over her shoulder at him with solemn eyes.
"I'm…" She hesitates in a way she never has. "Suzaku is all right, but we should hurry."
"I need to know what I'm walking into."
"I know it isn't easy, but please trust me."
Lelouch's jaw clenches, but he joins her side. "I do."
This significance isn't lost on C.C. and a flickering twitch of a smile tugs a corner of her mouth, but it's too weak under her solid amber gaze.
"Lelouch," her voice is softer than her eyes seem to allow and her other palm tenderly cups his cheek. "Don't forget your promise."
"Which one?" he asks, a little sarcastically.
Her eyes are hollow, her voice distant, "All of them." She flattens her other palm against the carved wall—
Lelouch feels gravity break in his belly and his mind warps through an electric tangle to somewhere beyond this mysterious cave—
•-•
At first, there is only light and the loose sensation of Lelouch pouring into himself like sand down an hourglass.
"I'm going to make this simple," the white space speaks in a childlike voice that he doesn't recognize. "Give me C.C." A boy. One with a smug, overly familiar tone.
"C.C. isn't property to be handed over," Lelouch austerely huffs, furrowing his brow – when he's sure he has his brow again. Disembodied voice or not, Lelouch doesn't follow anybody else's commands. C.C. is in here. If she wanted to show herself to this… whatever, she would.
"Suzaku is in danger, don't you realize?" the child says with delighted condescension. "That extra little life he's carrying isn't natural. It will kill him."
A thin river of blood kisses Lelouch's bare toes and his vivid violets follow it upstream to Suzaku, bare-bodied and bleeding down his thighs. He crashes to his knees clutching his swelling stomach when Lelouch runs to him, collapsing dead away before he can be reached. Lelouch swoops and desperately gathers a limp Suzaku into his arms.
No.
It's not real.
Lelouch knows it isn't real, but at this moment he is cradling Suzaku's dead, lifeless body—
"Give her to me and you don't have to lose either of them."
—it liquefies, nearly bursting like a water balloon and melting over him in thick red blood, leaving him to stare at his stained hands… A thin line of red hanging from his right pinky and he realizes it's actually a thread.
The red thread.
Tight around his finger and into in the evaporating blood pool.
"Nature or… otherwise," the child's voice arrogantly continues, "I'm sure you don't want them harmed."
A bluff.
"You kill either of them and you'll never get what you want." Lelouch presses his palm to the shrinking red puddle—
Haughty laughter rolls over Lelouch's bones.
"You really don't get it, do you? So much loyalty for a woman you don't even know. She's only using you."
—Lelouch is yanked down by his wrist through the blood and falls into an electric slideshow of the life of a green-haired girl. A small child with dirt-stained, bare feet and torn rags for clothes in a seemingly Victorian, rural landscape, alone—A tender nun giving this lonely girl Geass—The power that makes others flock to her, adore her—but then too many, overpowered, out of control. Her eyes permanently seared with the avian sigil—The nun cackles, her caring façade cracking with the Code glowing on her forehead that flashes and brands the girl's forehead instead—
"Your power is gaining strength. A little longer and she'll force her Code onto you and finally be free. That is her wish. Morality while you are locked into an unending life, watching everybody you care about age and die until you can pass it along, just like her and all before her."
("You're the first contractor I've had who hasn't become corrupted or hasn't failed me in some way before this point."
"…I am not your enemy."
"Your Geass reacted again, severely," C.C. says in a tone more firm than it usually sounds. "Almost as if you've been exhausting it." Eyes like amber holding fossilized secrets sternly capture his, "That's not normal."
"Lelouch," her voice is softer than her eyes seem to allow and her other palm tenderly cups his cheek. "Don't forget your promise… All of them.")
"I can save you from that, and spare your little pet from certain death."
"The only death that's certain is yours," Lelouch spits – pointed goading even as he's vulnerable in free-fall. Suzaku's checkups have been positive; despite the unnatural risks, there hasn't been any indication of immediate danger.
Suddenly, he's saved by the thread hooking on a corner of Ashford's clock tower, dangling by his pinky. He strains to reach for the edge with his other hand when Suzaku grabs him by the wrist and pulls just like when—
The child hums with condescension.
"You think this is the only time your lives have intertwined? The variations of life are infinite and the two of you have already lived and died thousands of times over."
He's lifted into sunlight. The thread short between his and… Suzaku's fingers—but they're children. Two boys standing above a sunflower field and under a Japanese sun nurturing something that didn't grow in the west—
"You think this time is different?"
The sky rumbles dark and angry with a storm overhead as they lie naked and joined in Lelouch's bed, like their first time. Lelouch is between Suzaku's legs and can feel himself deep inside Suzaku's body, his heat, and even though far from pleasurable he realizes that this really is Suzaku—
Then they're flipped and at the shrine almost like they were weeks ago. Both are still bare, Lelouch is on his back and Suzaku is impaled on top of him—
Their hands bound by red thread desperately clenched.
"You have no idea how many times the two of you have killed each other."
In the cave again, outside the mysterious door that he and C.C. just passed through—
But Lelouch and Suzaku are staring down the barrels of their pistols at each other. Lelouch in Zero and Suzaku in Lancelot's jumpsuit—Lelouch squeezes, the thread of his hand whipping—His shot spears right through Suzaku's eye, blood filling the air as he falls back, lifeless to the ground—
Lelouch is bombarded, accosted with a myriad of death and murder, memories that aren't organic to his mind shuffling through him like cards. Like stories somebody else has told. Flashes of him and Suzaku adorned in different outfits and backdrops, welding different weapons with the result always the same. Emotions surge, overwhelm as if living these exact moments that are more than mere nightmares. He's slaying Suzaku or being slain by Suzaku, each death fueled by rage or despair—
A few accidents flutter across; Suzaku's execution uninterrupted, Lelouch unable to stop or save. Lelouch consumed by his own power, Suzaku an unwilling but unstoppable Geass puppet—
But then they're in daylight on a crowded street as Lelouch stands atop a float, watching Zero race toward and lunge at him—A sword spears straight through his chest, Suzaku's face behind the mask—
"Sooner or later, all rivers lead to the ocean."
Blood trickles from Lelouch's mouth while they're suspended in this pose as their clothes and everything else dims around them. Cold steel in his chest, life and heat pouring out of him while Suzaku's hands shake and tears streak down his cheeks—
"Enough." C.C.'s voice pierces through the haze before her form appears, draped in her white prison garb. "I am here, as you wanted. No need to involve them in your theatrics."
"You are the one who chose to involve them," says the boyish voice.
Their surroundings quiver and twirl away like a sandy breeze, revealing a young lad with floor-length blond hair—
Lelouch and Suzaku crash to the floor, gasping and squirming like fish out of water as the reality that they aren't dead washes away their virtual deaths. Only the sword remains next to them…
—The Universe becomes the ceiling with Jupiter full and wide staring down at them. Just below it is a spiraling column of gnarled skeletons that seems to be reaching towards it. This place is not a cave; Lelouch isn't even sure this is still Earth. Not at this close proximity to the gas giant.
"Really, you didn't have to make this so difficult," the little blond boy says.
"Maybe I just wanted you to ask nicely," C.C. deadpans.
"You've never been susceptible to sweet-talk."
Lelouch checks Suzaku, earning a quick nod of assurance and they help each other up to their feet.
"You've never been good at delivering it." Her amber eyes look to Lelouch and Suzaku from the corner. "Where is Charles? I'm assuming he knows you're here."
"Wouldn't dream of this without Brother."
"But you can without Marianne."
The teen males remain silent. Lelouch is reaching into his cape, making Suzaku's eyes shift with concern.
"…It is unfortunate that she couldn't be here," the boy continues, not sound as sad as his words would imply, "but she's with us in spirit."
"More than you know, V.V."
The crack of a pistol and the child catches a shot to the forehead, dropping to the ground in front of Lelouch's behind the smoking gun. Any lingering haze is lifted but not his fury.
"You're going to get us out of here and then explain everything," he commands C.C. with fuming eyes, still grasping Suzaku's wrist.
"You don't understand—" C.C. tries to speak.
An understatement.
"You made sure of that," Lelouch bites. "And now it's endangering more than just you or me—"
The cackles of this V.V. fracture the air as he rises from the dead, blood streaming down his nose.
"What you don't understand is—"
Lelouch is quick with another shot, right between the eyes, and V.V. drops again.
"…The other Code bearer," Lelouch murmurs.
"Yes," C.C. patiently confirms.
Jeremiah mentioned one but didn't know their identity nor could he obtain it.
"I should've known," the prince in Zero's clothing quietly admits. He regenerates fast. Or, faster than any wounds he's seen on C.C. "You could've warned me."
"It isn't that simple," she cautions again. "I told you to trust me."
"Trusting you doesn't—"
"There are things… even you don't know," V.V. arrogantly airs, if tiredly, trying to push himself up—
"I could say the same," Lelouch can't resist snarking, firing his pistol again—
And, again, V.V. falls like a sack of hammers.
"I don't think that's going to help," C.C. deadpans. "He'll just recover."
"I never miss at this range." Lelouch waves his pistol in the air. Besides, it feels kind of good.
"Lelouch!" Suzaku chidingly hisses.
"He more than has it coming," Lelouch plainly defends.
Suzaku scowls, "That's not—"
V.V. twitches in defiance and Lelouch doesn't hesitate another trigger squeeze.
"This is not a permanent solution," C.C. sighs – sounding damn close to a chide.
"You're the one with all the answers," Lelouch sneers at her, grabbing the sword that plunged through his chest. "So, you tell me what the permanent solution is." As long as V.V. is at least unconscious he can't spin them on some insane merry-go-round of memories and what-ifs.
C.C. doesn't respond and Lelouch swiftly stakes the blade downward into V.V.'s head, making Suzaku grimace at the sound of steel cracking bone. The blade should block the healing, at least longer than repeated gunshots or even a beheading where his brain would self-heal anyway.
"Lelouch…" the brunet squirms.
Lelouch is still gripping the hilt and his eyes are almost too heavy to meet those pure greens.
This is exactly the sort of thing he never wanted Suzaku to see.
"Perhaps I can help," a familiar voice beckons from the dead.
Lelouch turns around and—
This isn't…
It can't be.
"…Mother?" Lelouch's breath is stolen; he's not sure how he even speaks that word. He checks the little menace still spiked in the head, still seemingly dead, and then looks back up to his mother. If this is another heartless, twisted trick—
"Don't trust your eyes?" Marianne smirks, exactly as he remembers her, and spins in place making her long orange dress whirl around her. "Don't worry; I'm not a desperate attempt at smoke and mirrors."
"You're… alive?" But…
"In this place, I am."
But.
Marianne walks closer, stepping around V.V.'s temporarily disabled body with dissecting eyes. Lelouch glances at C.C., caught a little off-guard by her guarded gaze resting on him.
"What is this?" he asks. "What's going on?"
The blue eyes that Nunnally had forgotten flick to Lelouch in an unfamiliar stare that's a little unsettling – not just because she should be dead.
"It's a long story. Your father is near but time is short," she simply, shortly, supplies. "V.V. is dangerous. You have subdued him but he will wake. Lelouch, you should take his Code and then he won't be able to recover."
"What?" Lelouch is aghast.
"He is the one who murdered me, and he's already threatened you. He needs to be eliminated."
Something about this isn't…
"Why did he want C.C.?" Lelouch asks. He won't be tricked by a phantom, real or not.
She falters, "…What? We have very limited time—"
"I want answers," Lelouch demands in a booming voice. His "mother" can't just pop out of thin air and—
If his mother has been alive all this time, why didn't she… Why did she just leave him and Nunnally hanging in the wind?
"Somebody prone to telling lies wants the truth? Isn't that interesting."
Before any semblance of reassurance can swaddle him, Lelouch's blood ices at the rustling sound of a male voice that hounds his sleep with stress dreams and stokes the fire of his rebellion. Charles zi Britannia in the corporeal flesh, Lelouch is certain by the stench, right before him in all his silk, velvet and ridiculous hair curls.
Those stupid, stupid hair rolls.
Stupid!
Lelouch nearly feels his jaw crack as he clenches his teeth and his fist around the sword, twisting it with sharp cracks of re-stitching bone. His eyes flare with the power of kings—
But remembers to avert his gaze, eyes falling on the incapacitated Code Bearer—
"You knew V.V. was here, what he was up to?" C.C.'s impassive voice is surprisingly calming but her unspoken implication is clear – Charles arrived too quickly to be unaware, and if he knew that means he let this happen. That trap he was waiting to spring – the web that had already caught Lelouch.
—Lelouch can't make direct eye-contact without risking being cast upon and Nunnally proves that his father absolutely would do it. He has a pistol in one hand and is gripping a sword in the other – those dots aren't hard to connect. Lelouch might not get the whole story once his father is dead but better safe than sorry. His violets shift toward Suzaku who is diagonal to him but close and those emeralds notice with distinct scrutiny.
"It's all only a matter of time," the old man responds with complacency and Lelouch seethes at the sound with shaking bones.
"Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Lelouch prods – the man sounds about ready to break into a villain's monologue and Zero the Hero won't stop it.
As it is, the renegade prince can't signal to Suzaku with full hands, but even if they've reached a point where the dumb seahorse can roughly guess Lelouch's thoughts it's not safe. Suzaku is a freak of nature physically, but he's not at his best. It saved him from sparring to the death with robo-Jeremiah, but that was more or less a straight fight. The Emperor has Geass and no reason whatsoever to hold back. Suzaku could get caught in the Emperor's Geass and then… Lelouch isn't willing to risk it. Suzaku knows enough to avoid the Emperor's gaze now, but that won't shield him from a more… direct death route, should the Britannian elder choose.
"Even you, son," Charles says to Lelouch and that last word is unnatural to hear coming from his mouth. "Did you think Jeremiah's appearance was a coincidence? Mere providence?"
Very suddenly Lelouch's chin is being tipped up by the gloved fingers of his father and—
He has to squeeze his eyes shut – to the arrogant sound of his father's jumbling chuckles that grates his skin like thorns.
Well… this is just… fantastic.
Totally how Lelouch saw his day going. He claimed a prince only to be cornered by the King – who knows that Lelouch is aware of his Geass.
Yep. Fan-friggin-tastic.
"C.C., how kind it is of you to finally join us," Charles' voice oozes in a slime of arrogance that Lelouch feels sinking into his pores. Suffocating and enraging.
"When you went to the effort of this invitation, how could I refuse?" C.C.'s bland, almost-snark helps to cleanse Lelouch's ears—
But the low tide of contented chuckles from his father's throat seeps in, reaching to smother the fire still left, rekindled, in Lelouch's chest. He can even smell his father. A haunting scent from the past when his world cracked apart and he fell right through the core.
Lelouch feels small.
Once again the helpless 10-year-old child that pleaded for safety and love from a father that only gave him the opposite—
His father might be a dinosaur but that's still a fossil. Lelouch is the dark knight of justice risen from the earth, vengeance of the dead decaying in the shadow of the Britannian beast. He is Zero and he embraced the fires of hell to ensure righteous victory. A bully from his past is but an insignificant speck of dust in the Universe, the dirt under Lelouch's boots. Lelouch will be the sun, the goddamn eternal flames that keep the world turning.
He will not fall!
He does not cower!
He is Lelouch vi Britannia and he conquers!
The sound of his mother's gasp prickles Lelouch's reflexes, but he doesn't open his eyes until—
"Lelouch…" Suzaku cautiously beckons.
Plum eyes carefully peel open to see Charles is paralyzed in some sort of smoky stasis right in front of him, but Lelouch's mother is not, maybe because she's not corporeal or… because Lelouch's hatred is targeted at his father. She gasps and gapes at her popsicle husband with mystified awe. As well as at C.C. and Suzaku who are shelled by a protective barrier.
"How… How did you…?" she can barely ask, eyes turning to her son. "Such control is…"
Absolute Control is kind of Lelouch's thing.
If anybody hasn't been paying attention.
"You don't know anything about your son." C.C.'s words frost from her lips, "and that's your own fault."
Still, Lelouch has surprised even himself. This ability… whatever it is, he commands it and as such controls his father without using his Geass in haste.
Brawns are so overrated.
"I want answers," Lelouch repeats himself with strained austerity, leaving staked V.V. to walk to the side of his father, out of eye-range just in case, and aims his pistol at the Emperor's temple.
"Foolish boy, you know nothing and yet insist on commanding the board," Charles rumbles – so it can still speak. Wonderful.
"All I need to know is how to pull the trigger," Lelouch superciliously sneers.
"Lelouch!" his mother pleas, rushing closer but not in between them. "You don't understand."
"Enlighten me."
"We… just wanted to make the world a better place. Where nobody was judged or afraid, where there was no need for lies or masks. Where we could all be together again, us and you and Nunnally."
Lelouch furrows his brow at her, "As a ghost?"
"This world, this reality is but a shell of what it could be," Charles speaks. "We live in the shadows of Gods who have turned their backs on us. They devote all their time to their own infighting, lies, and destruction not caring at all about how it affects us."
(Funny, that sounds like a certain human emperor that Lelouch knows.)
"But here… This is the Collective Unconscious of all humanity."
"Otherwise known as C's World," Marianne notes.
"This is a place of true freedom from all the ills that humans bring upon themselves – not even death is a shackle."
"Clovis waits here as well," Marianne adds again. Making Lelouch's eyebrow twitch. "On a beach, his favorite place. In C's world life can be anything you want it to be."
"Indeed. The endless lies, masks, and subterfuge… the pain they cause each other out of fear or anger. The very pettiness of life can be abandoned."
"So the perfect utopia?" Lelouch scoffs a little. "Where life is unchanging and stagnates?"
"Is that how you see peace?" Charles rebukes. "People live the way they do now because they do not know a better way. They can't. The Gods are responsible for the chaotic mire of our reality and have long ago stopped caring about our suffering or how their selfishness affects us. But break the chains and life, past, present and future, can coexist in a way that could never be accomplished now."
"Break the chains?" Suzaku cautiously asks.
"Slay God," Marianne answers much too simply.
Lelouch looks back at the towering spear forever climbing to pierce the planet—God above them.
"And then what exactly would happen?" Lelouch questions, not hiding his judgmental incredulity.
"Life as you know it would cease to exist. The barrier between worlds would break and we would enter a reality not bound by our secrets or even physical limitations."
"Physical limitations?" Suzaku asks again, sounding more than a little concerned.
"We would merge into the massive collective of all consciousness," Marianne answers.
That still doesn't sound good.
"Everyone would be known as they are, and accepted. True happiness discarded of any weights we bare. We could embrace the next evolutionary step of existence."
And, what, live as disembodied minds in a big bubble?
"You… would change reality. Force this on people without their consent?" Suzaku is appalled.
Lelouch knew his father was… off but this is just almost too much. He sounds like an entirely different person.
"You could see your father again," Marianne shamelessly tries to coax.
Suzaku is taken aback, nearly flinches as if she pricked him, "Whether or not I wanted to."
"It would be a life free of despair and pain or conflict," Charles defends.
"You mean the very things you have been spreading across the world?" Lelouch spits.
"We wouldn't even be here today if not for V.V." Marianne redirects, sounding more callous than he can ever remember her voice sounding.
"My brother and I made a pact long ago to destroy the selfish gods that neglected us, that toiled away in their destructive, unending wars. But he grew jealous of Marianne and became exactly what we fought. When we spoke of her death he lied to me, his own brother, without even blinking. He was no longer my brother after that day."
"He didn't know I had survived and told Charles. I had contracted with C.C. but my Geass didn't come to life until that day to save mine. I was able to hide in the soul of a young servant girl so we could continue our work. Even keep tabs on C.C. And now we are finally ready." Marianne looks to a stone-faced C.C.
"So… my fighting in Japan is just what, white noise?" Lelouch asks in a near-broken voice. Has anything he's done even mattered?
"It shouldn't have taken this long," his mother responds.
"And in the meanwhile? Did that ever occur to you?" Lelouch scowls.
Marianne stammers, "That's why we sent you and Nunnally far away from V.V. It was the only way that you and Nunnally would be safe."
("It's safer to keep those you love at a distance." C.C. had said on route to confronting Mao. Lelouch thought she was referring to Shirley at the time…)
Even if that's true—
"But you used Nunnally!" Lelouch scolds, setting aside the very horrible (traumatic) way his father publically "protected" him in the royal court. "You speak as if you care but you have no idea what you've done to her, using her as a temporary bandage. You don't even know what it means when she smiles."
"…Smiles?" Marianne repeats as if the word is meaningless.
As if everything he and Nunnally have suffered is—
…None of it mattered. Not at all. Not to them.
Strange, he didn't realize his heart was so vulnerable, that it could hurt so easily. Lelouch's heart broke at age ten and he was forced to strap it back together while growing up too fast, but it never healed. Now it bleeds at the cracks that can't be repaired or erased because once something breaks it can never be as it was before.
Maybe that's not a bad thing.
It's not a pain to fight.
It's a pain to harness.
To let spill out of him in faint and frayed chuckles.
"Hypocrites," Lelouch scoffs with a weak but derisive smile. "You detest Gods that are too consumed with their own petty, self-serving affairs but you are no better. You have become exactly the same as them. You fashion yourself as above the concerns of everybody else on this planet, letting—no, encouraging endless warfare, agony, and strife. You don't care about their lives because to you this world, this reality is already dead. A lost cause. Not even Nunnally or I were worth your attention."
"That's not true!" Marianne tries to argue. "We loved you."
"Then why didn't you end the war with Japan? You abandoned us," Lelouch bites back – no longer mama's little teething cub but a full-grown lion with claws and rage to match. "You just said so yourself; it didn't matter what happened to us because you were planning this all along."
Marianne looks to Charles with a speechless, disconcerted expression and all at once she is not the mother Lelouch remembers.
Or the mother he would have wanted to find here.
"…But I won't let you do it," Lelouch stoically proclaims with a bit of a wilted breath. "Your selfishness ends here."
"Lelouch you—!" Marianne starts.
"Enough of this!" V.V. suddenly shouts, sword clattering to the ground from his hand after his bloody but healing wound apparently forced it out of his skull. "I haven't come this far to listen to the whining of petulant children." His gaze is malevolent and Lelouch feels something strange in the air twist in the center of his soul.
Suzaku shrieks like lighting through a dead, cloudless sky, curdling Lelouch's blood, before crumbling to his knees and into C.C. who tries to catch his fall. He clutches his stomach and Lelouch can see Geass hoop around his eyes when—
Out of his body floats a shifting red sphere… with a humanoid small fry.
Lelouch whips his pistol into aim in reflex, and it makes V.V. villainously smirk.
"Careful where you shoot, boy," the child-uncle hollowly warns, pulling the pulsing orb between them.
A scowl pinches C.C.'s face, holding a pale and withered Suzaku, "That's not really necessary now, is it?"
"I will not be stopped," V.V. ominously answers. "Not by you, a ghost woman or her brat." His blue eyes flick to Lelouch and the detached placenta appears to crystallize like a ruby. "It's too bad. I liked you because you reminded me of Charles, but I see that you just have too much of your mother in you." His eyes gleam with the most sinister shade yet and without even moving a finger the miracle baby is hurled towards the ground—
Lelouch can only watch, motionless, even though everything in his head is screaming at him to do something as time slows around its fall but heartbeats—
It smashes in an exploding bloom of red shards spraying across the blackened ground. (Almost looking like a firework Nunnally is eagerly waiting to see with her… two big brothers.)
"You want your child back? You know where to get it." V.V. utters in the haughtiest of huffs. "All we have to do is create the new world and you will be reunited there. Simple."
Lelouch is left staring, maybe for only a second but it's a second that stretches his heart around the Earth—Universe that just cracked into pieces—
This can't be real.
This isn't happening.
How can this be really happening?
—Until a whipping blur slices V.V.'s head clean off his shoulders, sending it into a flying roll. Suzaku stands where V.V.'s body flops, glancing at Lelouch with the sword in hand and tears already streaming from his eyes, his barrier of protection broken. With a nauseating twist reality shutters back into Lelouch's brain and a cold, solid pit inside him. His arm rises in robotic fashion, aiming his pistol point-blank at his father's—enemy's temple—
"Lelouch, no!" his mother cries, eyes frayed with desperation.
But the little boy she thought she knew, that might've taken her hand even in the face of all this, is dead.
He died nearly 8 years ago.
If he ever lived.
Lelouch looks at her, fully aware that she can't stop him. That Suzaku isn't going to stop him. That C.C. probably wants him to pull the trigger. That he is completely in control. Unlike when he was a mere child that just wanted—
It's… not as satisfying as he thought it would be. (Because the broken world, life, he clung to has finally crumbled into nothing, leaving him empty.) Maybe it's shock or denial delaying the swelling ocean of emotions waiting to rush him because all he feels in this moment is a cold steeliness.
A blade in his chest, stopping his heart.
You are NOT my mother. "As far as I'm concerned you should've stayed dead," Lelouch sneers with every ounce of his body, Geass-blazing eyes stabbing the woman he'd loved, admired and ached for with a thousand burning needles—
A thousand needles for every single year of these past 7 that he let himself believe. Anger that had always festered deep in his blood now brims in the corners of his eyes. His grip shakes on his pistol – no, it's not just his life, the sanctuary of his childhood in his mother's hugging arms that blazes to ashes like burning pictures. That singe the net Lelouch could fall back on during these hard, lonely years. He'd always blamed his father for the future that was taken from him and Nunnally and now, still, it's the two of them that have stolen yet more of his life.
His child.
The idle and not-so background daydreams of comforting a little bundle at night when neither he or the baby can sleep. Afternoon naps with the baby on his chest. Little fingers, toes, and giggles. Lelouch and Suzaku trying and failing not to spoil that sweet little face rotten. Teaching her chess. Helping him with his homework. Wiping their tears after skinned-knees. Never letting them go. Not just a home and family, but a life that neither Lelouch nor Suzaku would've thought they could have. A fantasy realized as reality and then smashed just like everything else. Lelouch feels so goddamn foolish believing the rose-colored wool pulled over his eyes.
Why did he believe that his mother was any different?
Why wasn't she different?
(Is he any different?)
Despite how it happened, Lelouch didn't miss the palace or royal family; he and Nunnally were better off without them and in trade they met the only thing, person, that's been real this entire time.
—The familiar wrap of Suzaku's strong arms surrounds Lelouch like a broken dam and it sweeps them both down to their knees, stopping the dark prince from taking the shot.
But Lelouch still wants to.
It won't change this. Won't cure him. Won't rewrite history…
…Lelouch doesn't want that.
Suzaku weeps into Zero's back for both of them and Lelouch is… regrets that he needs Suzaku to do it. Only a couple tears are squeezed from his eyes that he didn't want to spill. He didn't—doesn't want to fall apart at the seams he had to clumsily learn how to stitch as a thrown-away child. They don't deserve his tears or his sorrow. They aren't worth this pain.
What Lelouch wants is something they never wanted.
Lelouch steels his heart as he did through sobbing nights in a shack with Nunnally, clothes damp with her tears, and stares at the broken fragments of their child. Something that maybe shouldn't have existed but certainly something that shouldn't have been taken.
"Give it back," Lelouch suddenly commands, rupturing the dead quiet with only a slight waver of his voice. He looks up to the Universe peering down on them and furrows his brow with righteous fury. "A God are you? I don't want to stop time, change reality or destroy you. Take them all, if you wish, just give me back my child."
For a moment it seems as though his words spear at but an inanimate, faceless floating sphere—
A few seconds of him even feeling foolish as Suzaku clings tighter to him.
—Until it illuminates, glowing red with the sigil of the king's power and then there's a spark like a lit fuse atop the corkscrew, skeletal weapon. It fizzles all the way down in a flash like a wick and the "god-killer" flecks away into dust. It begins to dissolve Marianne, Charles, and even V.V.'s beheaded corpse. Marianne looks at her disappearing hands and husband with confusion, then to C.C. who is solid and unchanging. "C.C., why aren't you…? You believed just as we did—"
"I knew long ago you cared only about yourselves," the green-haired immortal tonelessly says. "But now I know you're also cruel."
"Impertinent child, you don't know what you're doing," still sedentary Charles growls, unable to do anything else.
Lelouch knows he's not his parents.
And that he never wants to be.
"You do this and all you will have left is Schneizel's world." It almost sounds like Charles is concerned.
But it's too little, too late.
"Perhaps right now you should worry about yourself, just as you always have," Lelouch scorns with sour delight. (Because who even knows where they're about to vanish off to.) "Now begone!"
Marianne reaches for Charles and cries his name but their fade is fast and soon she's just a sprinkle of nothing to be lost among the stars along with V.V., Charles, and their weapon of vanity. Then, too, the broken pieces of small fry fade out of sight, but are not replaced.
Lelouch and Suzaku wait for a few beats.
Staring at a future smashed on the floor and waiting for it to be restored. The god-planet dims as does the room around them, morphing into rock and earth—
Suzaku pulls away from Lelouch with a growl of pain, clutching his stomach.
"Suzaku!" Lelouch calls with alarm, grabbing the boy's shoulders.
Sweat instantly sheens on the increasing pallor of Suzaku's face and his pants bleed like in V.V.'s vile vision. Lelouch is hanging helplessly in glassy green eyes but the entrance glows behind them, catching C.C.'s notice.
"This way," she instructs, gesturing back towards the exit leading to the cave where they entered.
"He needs help," Lelouch snaps, struggling with strangely shy adrenaline to hoist his paramour up from the floor and onto his shoulder.
"So we're helping him," she pragmatically counters – and yet it doesn't sound insulting like it usually might. Maybe that's partly because of the way she inserts herself under Suzaku's arm like another crutch to support his weight.
Perhaps Lelouch would allow himself to enjoy feeling rather touched by her at the moment if not for the possibly dying seahorse and small fry slung over his neck.
•-•
They appear on the other side of the wall, but not in the cave where they originally entered. Instead, he finds them in a human-made facility with very a Britannian scatter of white-coats gawking in their direction. A place he's never been, but one he recognizes thanks to recon from a certain double-agent, Jeremiah 2.0. Images were few and although they spoke volumes they still don't depict the sheer scale of this place.
"This is…" he breathes.
"The Order," C.C. finishes.
"Of course you knew about this place."
"It's been a long time since I was here last."
Their eyes cross but Lelouch decides that it's futile to poke her about it now – when Suzaku is dewy and limply strung about their shoulders. And bleeding in the most disturbing fashion.
"C.C.?" gasps a scientist, drawing his attention to a few that have gathered near the steps of the door. "You've come back to us?"
"You're… here…" But the seeming leader among them is a portly, bald man in military-style dress, monocle, and nervous sweat. "But where is…?"
"I remember you," C.C. notes. "The one that worked with Clovis."
"Obey me." Lelouch's eyes flare with Geass before another word is spoken, pushing everything else down except helping Suzaku.
The man and scientists are all caught in the wide cast of Lelouch's net, bodies still and faces blanking until he makes his first command to aid Suzaku and the baby. There's a collective kowtow of "Yes, Your Majesty" before they hurry Suzaku off in a stretcher that Lelouch actually jogs to follow.
Tries to follow.
His thoughts buzz faster than his legs, unfortunately, and even though compartmentalizing is a skill Lelouch has honed it's difficult to focus on any one thing as he watches his seahorse turn off into a room down a hall. C.C. stays at his side, even touching his shoulder when he stops about halfway to grab his knees. Adrenaline ran short and has stolen his breath while his head clouds with his pounding heart just thumping
Thumping
Thumping
in an anxious rhythm. The steady blip filling Nunnally's hospital room. A tiny beat growing in Suzaku's belly. It's the warm beat in Suzaku's chest that Lelouch holds close at night. The thrashing pulse when their bodies are connected and breathless. There is no beginning or end, just all of them tied together with the thread of a fragile organ. Right now there is no after. Not until Suzaku is out safely and not—Lelouch has to stay positive. Mind over matter. Suzaku won't die, he can't. Geass won't let him. But the baby—
No, can't think about it.
Lelouch pushes himself up with a gusting exhale, rubbing his face with his gloved-hand, still in Zero's skin, and notices movement from the corner of his eye. In a room at his side are a group of children of close but assorted age in identical white jumpsuits staring at him like the unexpected stranger he is.
"…The child slaves Jeremiah mentioned?" he asks in a stern tone that doesn't sound like he wants an answer. Children are used for everything from unclear experiments to assassinations. It looks more cultish than Lelouch expected…
"V.V. granted Geass like candy," she answers in a voice that's easily emptied of all the racing emotions Lelouch should be better at controlling. "Always so hopeful in his engineering."
Lelouch scowls.
V.V.'s death was too quick and painless.
But he can't focus on this now; it's just another "to-do" on an ever-mounting pile of tasks trying to bury him. He moves his feet again, striding past laboratories emitting chemical scents that hang in the air and—
At a glance, Lelouch sees something that makes him double-take.
And then wish he hadn't.
The teen stops dead in his tracks, practically gaping with an open mouth that isn't sure of what words to form.
"…Is that… a clone of me?" he finally asks with revulsion.
C.C. is still at his side, staring into a small lab housing a tall glass cylinder containing a (hopefully) comatose Lelouch look-alike with tubes snaking out of his face and body.
"Looks like it."
Lelouch shudders, "If V.V. was still alive I'd kill him again."
"He could be obsessive," she adds and then side-eyes Lelouch. "Considering the blood-relation you might want to watch for that."
The Britannias do seem to share that… quality.
"Don't compare me that madman and his nightmare factory." Or his father. Lelouch's feet carry him away from one nightmare in particular he could've lived without ever seeing (another bullet on the mental checklist – a literal bullet in this case) towards the turnoff where they took Suzaku when he feels his phone rumbling in his pocket—
Not fast enough to catch the caller.
Nunnally.
There are several missed calls and messages from Nunnally and friends… and it's already almost 11 o'clock – did time jump in… that place?
"Damn it," Lelouch hisses, looking up to Suzaku being prepped for surgery under bright, hot lights and all the strangers that will suffer if they can't save his seahorse and small fry.
•-
-•
After hours of rather intense surgery during which Lelouch stood in – because nothing can stop him – Suzaku is still knocked out on meds, but alive, as is their baby. All through the impromptu cesarean Lelouch waited at Suzaku's unconscious head watching and squirming, feeling like he was dangling from a skyscraper with only a fishhook in his toe. It was excruciatingly intense, but…
They've all made it out the other side, if a little worse for the wear.
At present, he sits in a sterile white room that has probably seen more horrible atrocities than Lelouch cares to imagine. Suzaku will likely be asleep for a while longer yet and their baby is encased in an incubator that, again, has probably participated in other horrors. This entire evening and night have been a swinging pendulum, tossing Lelouch's head and heart, and he missed watching the fireworks with Nunnally and everyone. There's next year, but… he really wanted to be there. Should he have waited one more day? Would that have even mattered? (Did he even have any control?) Nunnally understood when it was explained that Suzaku needed sudden medical attention – and wanted to be with them, but Lelouch explained he had it under control and it was for the best – but it's all just so…
Lelouch's nerves are raw and his emotions are just a mushy pile of… mush. It's difficult to feel any single thing but too tiring to feel everything. He tries to nourish the relief in Suzaku's stabilized state, but everything else keeps trying to creep in through his unraveled edges.
Everything waiting for him.
This whole… thing and… stuff that—
…eh, he's too exhausted.
(But there's no rest for the wicked.)
Lelouch is seated next to Suzaku's bed, idly holding and petting the seahorse's hand. Even fighting a riptide of sleep trying to pull him under, probably for his own good, but his mind is restless where his body is fatigued.
C.C. enters the room, a flash of lime-green that's too energetic for Lelouch's eyes, and quietly joins his side.
"Maybe you should rest," she softly says. "I can watch them for you. Jeremiah should also be here soon."
"I am resting," Lelouch lethargically defends.
She leans against the bed. "…You haven't asked me yet."
"Asked you what?"
"For an explanation."
Lelouch's eyebrow pops – he started off demanding such, "Because that's worked for me in the past? I think I know what I need to. You used me to stop them. I don't disagree with your actions." Certainly seems like the long and short of it. Lelouch would be a hypocrite to scold her for all the secrecy, and it isn't like he can't understand why she didn't tell him – nor has he forgotten that he would be dead if not for her. All of this started with his parents, after all. "…You've… stood by me all along."
The future more than the past is their urgent concern, now more than ever.
C.C. doesn't immediately respond and Lelouch wonders if maybe she actually wants him to press her more for information about everything. She doesn't need an invitation to share, though.
"So, then, what do you intend to do with this place?" C.C. asks, sounding genuinely curious and back-to-business-as-usual.
Lelouch rather appreciates the topic shift.
"…There's a lot of information and research here," Lelouch notes. Anything that he could ever want to know about Geass is right here in this facility – and any knowledge that isn't could be unlocked. Full staff, technology…
"True."
"And child slaves, murderers, and creepy abominations," Lelouch disdainfully continues with a taste of bile on his tongue. Perhaps this place is only a warning. Lelouch was damn close to becoming his father. He can't become his "uncle."
"Also true."
Lelouch turns to C.C., looking her square in the eyes, "What would you do with it?"
She looks like a genie being asked for the first time in her ancient life what she would wish for if she could make wishes instead of only grant them. Then it occurs to Lelouch… that if he was in her place, he'd only want one thing: freedom. And probably vengeance on who or what might've imprisoned him in the first place.
"Maybe we could find a way to break the Code and free you."
"There isn't," she quickly answers, breaking their shared gaze. "If so, they would've found it. The only way is to pass on my Code to a strong enough bearer, but… I won't ask that of you."
And there are plenty of opportunities here with the crop of growing Geass kids – not that C.C. needs them. She could contract with anybody else.
However, Lelouch remembers the visions of her that V.V. mistakenly shared. Memories V.V. misunderstood like everything else. They flooded fast at first, but as Lelouch sifts through the aftermath debris the pieces of her align and he sees… another wish buried under the rubble of broken lifetimes that made her forget why she started down this road in the first place. She wanted to forget. Maybe he should remind her.
"You think it's impossible, but I like a challenge. Besides, we made a contract and I said I would fulfill your wish."
"One step at a time," she says with some rather unwelcomed judgment in her tone. "Perhaps the question you should be asking is what you are going to do now?" C.C.'s honey eyes pour into Lelouch when she reconnects their gaze. "You and Suzaku have rejected the plan of your parents, choosing this reality and the flowing of time. Now Britannia is without an emperor and you with a child…"
That sounds like a rhetorical question.
"…The pregnancy was me, wasn't it? Not Suzaku." Lelouch asks, looking at the incubated baby while holding Suzaku's hand. "You said V.V. could manipulate reality in and out of C's world."
"He was more practiced at it. Impregnating Suzaku through imagination would be quite a feat by accident," C.C. says, easily following Lelouch's lead.
"But not impossible." He turns his eyes back to her. "When I first told you about the baby you suggested that Geass was the operative variant between us."
"…I was pulling your leg." C.C. is surprisingly candid.
"And I asked you if Geass could affect the baby – if the parents' ability could affect the baby," Lelouch continues, not to be deterred. "You said your knowledge on the matter was 'inconclusive.' You were referring to my parents."
C.C. quietly stares.
~Judgment level rising…
"It was already wired into my parents before I was born. Maybe that makes my connection… to all this stronger than others. Or maybe even grants it."
C.C. inhales to speaks but lets the breath slide out of her chest instead – rerouting the thought.
"I'm not sure it works that way, but it sounds like as good an explanation as any other," she noncommittally responds – although Lelouch gets the impression she's thinking more seriously about his supposition than she'd like to admit. "Does it matter?"
"Maybe," Lelouch distantly murmurs. His eyes are drawn to Suzaku's hand limp in his palm, gently smoothing his other hand over the back.
He doesn't know what effect any of this Geass, God, and reality-bending could have on the baby – and if it's responsible for the baby even existing? Would he be "touched" in a way they can't see? Could he be in danger, directly or indirectly? These lines of thought make it seem more prudent to keep this facility just in case. It's not as though it can't be handled ethically and he can keep a closer eye on any other Geass-related goings-on that may be happening elsewhere.
Besides, if Lelouch wants to destroy every trace of Geass he would have to destroy God, and, obviously, that's not a viable course of action. God might not care about lowly mortals but it gave them this ability and Lelouch has used it to change the face of the tangible world, for at least as much as he could.
"But more to the point," Lelouch continues, holding Suzaku's hand sandwiched between his, "the Emperor might be gone but his empire isn't and it won't necessarily take much to claim it." He lifts his eyes to meet C.C.'s stare. "I don't have to move the planets themselves, only the tip of a pen."
•-
-•
"What's so urgent that we needed to speak here in person?" Lelouch asks Euphemia in her SAZ office, removing his mask. "I'm on my way to the hospital."
"It's not life-threatening," she assures, then falls into a small pause and turns away from her desk to him with concerned eyes. "How is Suzaku? We haven't really communicated very much."
"Nothing you need to be concerned with. He just needs rest." Phone calls or messaged are unsafe – the less said, the better – but mostly Suzaku really is just recuperating. Emotional wounds take a little longer. "Now what's so important? I can't stay long. School is resuming next week as well so I need to prepare."
Pfft, sure.
Like Lelouch can just go back to class after everything that's happened.
Euphemia nods, squaring her jaw and speaking with learned professionalism, "It's about the Emperor."—and yet, her eyes are more weighted than before. "He's… dead."
"Dead?" Lelouch incredulously asks.
"I don't know the details, only overheard Cornelia and Schneizel talking about it. He's gone."
Oh, he's gone, all right.
Gone straight to the gutter of the Universe.
"That's…" The strike of shock "captivates" Lelouch in silence a moment until he lets a coating of apathy coolly pour from his chest, "…I'm sure an announcement would've been made, why the special delivery?"
"Because… he left documentation behind," she cautiously answers, "saying… naming you his successor."
Lelouch eye's bug out, "What?"
"Apparently it's dated before… um, before your mother passed. It's all official, sealed and everything."
"I… don't believe this." Lelouch grips his forehead with his black-gloved hand.
"It's the only document about it that's been found – but they, everyone, still think you're dead. So… Well…"
"Meaning Odysseus will become Emperor, as is standard procedure. Except he's not capable." So he'll become a puppet to Schneizel, Lelouch's puppet. Assuming the First Prince is even useful enough survive that far, that's quite a long chain of strings to be pulling.
Euphemia is too polite to voice agreement but the tinge in her expression says it for her. "You think I should step forward and claim it."
Lelouch half-laughs at the absurdity.
"I will support you—!" she ardently declares, stopping her excitement and restarting. "I mean I would. I know you've been in hiding all this time to protect yourself and Nunnally, but now that… father is gone and with Zero…" Euphemia lets her words trail off into her brother's unreadable gaze. "I'm not pushing you, but I thought you should know. There's so much we could do, so much we could change and you wouldn't have to hide. We could do this together."
Lelouch heavily exhales, "It's not the challenge that concerns me, it's the risk. This isn't just about me. Anything I do will extend to Nunnally and the people I know here. And you."
She shifts a little in place, "Any riskier than now?"
Lelouch won't say she has a point, but a faint flicker of his expression does, "…I'm not saying no."
A modest but bright smile of hope shapes her mouth, "The window is closing, quickly. Maybe you should speak with Nunnally and Suzaku, ask them what they think and want. It's only fair."
Lelouch slightly, wryly smiles. "Speaking of, what about Cornelia if she finds out that you've been keeping me secret all this time?"
"…I'm sure she'll understand."
Lelouch hums through a soft smirk, thinking that Big Sister isn't known for being understanding.
"It is a rare opportunity that shouldn't be wasted," Lelouch agrees, donning his mask and speaking through Zero's filter, "Thank you for informing me."
Euphemia bobs her head with a courteous nod and Lelouch exits the stage.
(But please, hold all applause until the end of the show.)
•-•
At their regular, familiar and cozy clinic which is totally not some secret laboratory of horrors, Lelouch enters a private room off a lone hallway – security courtesy of Geass – to find his precious patients quietly resting in dim lighting. Suzaku sees Lelouch and brightens with a toothy smile, moving to stand but is waved off by the older boy who leans down to kiss his lips. The seahorse is wearing a set of Lelouch's light blue flannel pajamas rather than any patient garb and sitting in a chair beside a large incubator machine.
"How are you feeling?" Lelouch softly asks against these sweet lips before pulling away and petting brown curls.
"I'm fine, really," Suzaku answers as he does every time Lelouch asks.
But Lelouch likes asking and he smiles because he knows Suzaku likes his fussing, too.
"How's Small Fry?" Lelouch asks, pulling up an empty chair nearby to join Suzaku's side.
Their little bundle is smaller than little, pink and has a disturbing amount of tubes stemming from him. Unsettling enough alone but the sight and smells trigger childhood wounds of seeing a frail, broken Nunnally after their mother's murder. It's not something Lelouch ever forgot but the memory is sharper here. Lelouch isn't sure if it hurts more now that he knows… everything.
He tries not to think about it.
Mostly.
Can't move forward if he's always looking backward.
"They say things are looking good, but he's still really premature," Suzaku answers with concern, reaching through an arm-hole and fondly touching a tiny hand with the tips of yearning fingers.
Almost five months premature.
"Miracle" isn't necessarily a word Lelouch would toss around lightly, but, that's accurate. Divinely so. Suzaku, on the other hand, might have gotten the worst of it (as far as can be seen, so far.) Lelouch feels confident that the Geass command not only helped Suzaku bounce back fast from major emergency surgery but also sustained him through it. Overall Suzaku is nearly recovered (physically) but still requires rest and monitoring. He'll be back to his regular seahorse self soon but the baby—their baby will still be here for months. Britannian medicine has made surprising advances despite their vast prejudges of disabilities, but have only come so far. Lelouch isn't looking forward to the wait until their baby is healthy and stable enough to leave this glass womb, but at least small fry is safe.
"He'll be fine. I'm sure he's strong just like his Mama Bear," Lelouch reassures, gazing at tiny curled fingers (that are the correct amount on each hand, thankfully.)
As it is, Nunnally and their friends have only visited a few times. Things are looking good but more time is needed before more visitations are advisable.
Suzaku breathes a faint laugh, "Bears eat fish, you know."
"Not seahorses. They're not even in the same ecosystem. But you started the bear thing, not me."
"Did I?"
Probably. Lelouch can't remember… Maybe they have too many animal pet-names for each other.
"I don't know if maybe I'm just used to it, but Fry doesn't seem like such a bad name anymore."
"No?" Lelouch is genuinely intrigued. It was just a joke name but it has attached quite fondly to his vocabulary.
Suzaku doesn't quite shrug, "It's unique, has an affectionate origin and is cute but I think would still age well with adulthood."
"…Are you saying you want to change the name?"
"I… I don't know. I'm just thinking… maybe giving him my father's name lends the wrong impression."
"Wrong impression?"
Lelouch is glad small fry is a boy. It gives Suzaku the namesake (and life) he needed to pass down. He's not at all against having a little girl, of course, but Lelouch wouldn't have named her after his mother at this point. First Prince Genbu Kururugi II vi Britannia would be the baby's full title, formally speaking, and doesn't that just roll off the tongue? Maybe Lelouch could do something about all these useless, decorative titles…
"Well…"
"Does this have anything to do with what you told me about your father?" You know, the holding children as political hostages thing, and stuff.
"There is that," Suzaku quietly confesses. "I want to honor his memory but maybe this isn't the right way to do it. It's… a lot to put on a child. Too much looking back."
Suzaku is ready to start looking forward, then?
"We still have some time to decide, but if he's Fry then what pet name would we give him?" Lelouch jokes.
"How many names does he need?" Suzaku jokes back.
Humor curves Lelouch's lips and his fingers tenderly twirl into the brown curls at Suzaku's temple.
"So… How did it go with Euphie?" Suzaku cagily asks.
Ah, yes, the topic being semi-avoided.
"As expected," Lelouch likewise cagily answers.
Suzaku exhales notable apprehension.
Lelouch's violets shift between the seahorse and the small fry.
"It's not set in stone just yet," the Britannian says, and then smirks very slightly in one corner of his mouth, "Or, rather, we haven't pulled the sword from the stone just yet."
Suzaku slides somber green eyes at Lelouch.
"I know you're not happy with how this is happening."
Like Geassing Schneizel into (so very sublime, satisfying) submission, cheating (manipulating) reality to forge documents stating Lelouch is the (totally) legitimate heir to the throne. But it is the path of least resistance, violence and casualties. Cutting corners doesn't always have to be as bloody as Suzaku thinks and what's so wrong about dishonesty if they're actually saving lives?
"It's not ideal, but you weren't wrong about needing shortcuts. Your parents and… uncle? were far more dangerous than I could've ever thought," Suzaku quietly admits, looking back at their baby. "…I haven't imagined I'd ever have a normal life. Somehow I don't think either you or me were meant to."
Probably not.
"You still can. You aren't obligated and it would be safer for—"
"Don't do that," Suzaku sternly chides but holds his eyes on the baby. "I made my choice. We're a family. And family doesn't separate. We are stronger and safer together."
Lelouch hums. For as long as he can remember his mother was always part of the definition of family – now redefined. Lelouch doesn't need his mother, he has a new, real family of his own choosing and it has proven to be far superior.
"I'm sorry about what happened with your parents," Suzaku murmurs just above a whisper. "I realized I haven't said it yet. And that they didn't, either. You deserved at least that much."
Lelouch got the closure he'd been seeking but not the satisfaction.
("What if the answers you find aren't the ones you want?"
—Lelouch pauses.
"I think they rarely are the ones we want.")
Maybe subconsciously Lelouch did anticipate disappointment(—disappointment, not heartbreak.)
And C.C. already knew.
"Doesn't matter," Lelouch dismisses but can't completely lift his voice from a sagging dejection. "Everything that's happened led me to here, where I am now." With you.
A pair of loving, not-insane parents would've been nice, but perhaps C.C. had a point; if Lelouch's mother hadn't died, if he hadn't "banished himself" to Suzaku's home, they might not have ever met and Lelouch wouldn't be living a life that, while not without suffering, is his own. Even if Lelouch's Mother hadn't been murdered he still had deluded parents. Hell, they might've succeeded in killing God and be living in some dreamland reality by now. Instead, he's here with a family that's real and worth every drop of blood in his body. Worth even giving up—
…Well, sure, Lelouch is basically getting to eat his cake and have it, too, but the thought still counts.
Suzaku looks at Lelouch as if he's the one bearing all the pain, "That doesn't mean it isn't painful."
Excruciating.
But life moves on and pain is just something that people learn to live with…
"You don't have to worry about me," Lelouch reassures.
"I think I just said that I've decided to worry about you." Suzaku somewhat cheekily replies with a glimmering gaze of evergreen.
How very cute, Lelouch dryly thinks.
"And the last time you didn't talk about it you waged war against your father, the emperor of a world-conquering nation, with a handful of terrorists," Suzaku adds with surprising dryness.
A: terrorists is a Britannian label, as forced occupiers.
B: "And now he's dead," Lelouch effortlessly retorts. "Problem solved."
C: How would boohooing about his situation have solved anything?
Suzaku is not amused, as his flat expression indicates. "You're going to have to learn how to let somebody else take care of you. Because I'm not going to stop trying."
Lelouch mostly inwardly smiles and feels a warm bloom in his chest.
He hopes Suzaku doesn't give up on him.
(He needs Suzaku to never give up on him.)
"You're like a… What's the saying…? Doctors make for lousy patients?" Suzaku continues. "There's nothing wrong with being independent but the way you think you need to take care of everybody else and that you always know what's best but refuse the other way around is the problem. It's not a bad thing to let me care for you, you know."
A faint snicker puffs from Lelouch's nose, making Suzaku curiously tilt his head.
"For as much as we're different we're exactly alike," Lelouch says almost more to himself through a mildly amused bend of his lips. "Maybe we really are only playing with dynamite here."
Shared humor molds Suzaku's lips—but quickly warps under a sudden heaviness in his emeralds.
"Do you think…?" the soldier starts on a ghostly breath. "Were those visions we saw real? Have we really killed each other?"
"We're not dead, Suzaku."
"But it felt so real."
"Don't concern yourself with other lifetimes or realities that might not exist. We have enough to worry about in this one alone without getting buried in what-ifs."
Regardless of all the smoke and mirrors, Lelouch feels certain it was real. More than Lelouch knowing himself and what he would, or wouldn't do, his similarities with Suzaku can clash in all the wrong ways so rather than complimenting each other, it's just… destruction. It shouldn't matter here and now, however, because this here and now is the life they're living. A new path diverging from possible devastation.
"…You're right, of course." Suzaku shares a half-sneer, "Mr. Smarty Pants."
"Spoken like a true seahorse," Lelouch breezily lobs back at the burnet who smiles with a fond sparkle in his eyes that eases Lelouch's chest—
Until an arm swiftly hooks around his neck and reels his rigid body closer to the soldier's unrelenting hold.
"I'm doing this for me, not you," Suzaku informs with yet another sly whiff dangling from the edge of his words.
That's at least half untrue. Lelouch lets himself relax a little in the embrace that was in no way his idea or invited.
It's a start.
"I was thinking," Suzaku softly speaks, thumb rubbing Lelouch's arm, "our baby was born on New Year's Day, and with everything that's happening now, it's like… a reset for everyone. A new start." Suzaku squeezes Lelouch in his wrapping arm, "All of us can start fresh."
"Sounds like a plan," Lelouch softly responds.
Suzaku rests his head against Lelouch's and lets his arm hang around Lelouch's neck as they sit together in a quiet, comfortable and uncluttered s-i-l-e-n-c-e while they gaze at their precious child. Lelouch's parents taught him what not to be, but Suzaku gave him a reason not to be. It's not going to get easier from here but tomorrow is a new day and here they are still facing it together.
(…Good grief Lelouch is getting much sappier these days…)
"…That means I've forgiven you," Suzaku mutters as if it wasn't obvious.
"Yeah, I caught that," Lelouch blandly snarks – and this idiot thinks Lelouch is the one who ruins their moments?
Suzaku shouldn't be so self-righteous, but whatever. Ultimately all of this is a victory for Lelouch.
Sweet, undeniable, absolutely deserved victory.
•-
-•
"It still seems strange to me," Cornelia says with crossed arms to the small group gathered in a velvety lounge room trimmed in gold and crystal of the Imperial Viscount Building. "Even though Father never made any official mention of an heir-apparent, he didn't change the documentation after it was said that Lelouch and Nunnally were lost?"
Lelouch leaves her musing to bounce off the other bodies in the room, choosing to idly adjust the mandarin collar of his new regal, white robes flowing from his tall, willow-like form in the reflection of a window – one that rather conveniently overlooks Clovis' recreation of Marianne's Villa garden. Suzaku quietly stands stiffly at the side in his new Knight uniform (with peek-a-boo upper arm sleeves, because why the hell not?) while Euphemia is seated in an armchair next to their standing sister.
"His Majesty must have known all along about Lelouch and Nunnally," Schneizel chimes in from an unlit fireplace totally not sounding like a slave-drone in any way. No, really. As far as anybody else sees he's the tip-top Prime Minister they've always known (except they've never known anything – instead of a wolf in sheep's clothing, he's now just another sheep.) "There's security in secrecy."
Well… Lelouch can't argue against that.
But he's also learned secrecy can backfire with a vengeance.
Cornelia takes a thoughtful pause. "…I suppose that makes sense. In theory, you and the throne would've been safe."
As political hostages? Funny how people keep forgetting that part despite the former Emperor declaring it aloud for everyone to hear in the royal court. Somehow Japan is blamed for not surrendering after Britannia invaded first – blaming the victim, a favored pastime of Britannian aristocracy and no one on Earth does it better. Charles didn't give two turds about his two children and it's debatable if he ever did. If Charles really wanted to ensure the safety of his children, even after exiling them, he wouldn't have left them to fend for themselves in war-torn lands if he knew they were still there. However, Lelouch can't refute Cornelia, or anyone, even if he wants to. He elevated himself as chosen heir which would imply what she surmises.
But being the "favorite" isn't glamorous like it sounds.
"Still, you and Nunnally didn't know but you chose to remain here rather than return home." Cornelia makes it sound more like an accusation than a question.
"Our mother was murdered. Does that sound like safe harbor to you?" Lelouch answers with considerable bite, knowing that Cornelia was captain of his mother's guard and that it isn't her fault. He won't say more than that but it should suffice. She has spent her life protecting Euphemia so she should be able to understand even if she cannot fathom the idea itself of not returning home.
"…It's just a shame that Clovis can't be here," Cornelia confesses with surprising softness. "He wanted so badly to see you and Nunnally again."
"…Did he?" Lelouch's quiet voice ghosts the glass as he gazes at the garden – crafted with perfection… and care.
(Too many misplaced emotions.)
"The main inspiration for him coming to this land was to be closer to the two of you," she answers. "To bring rest to your memories."
Instead, he built a gaudy eye-sore of an amusement park under his own vanity and then nearly genocided the natives in their forced ghetto while enjoying gratuitous luxuries. Clovis never was as smart as he thought nor was he ever a match for Lelouch and truly atrocious under real pressure. He also embodied the sickness of the Britannian elite. Still, Clovis was… a nice older brother despite an upbringing that tailored him to be otherwise to a mongrel like Lelouch and Nunnally.
Too late for regrets.
"He even kept and preserved the chess match the two of you were playing but didn't get to finish," Euphemia adds in a sentimental glaze of her voice. "You know, he thought he was going to win that one."
Lelouch doesn't suppress a little scoff. Lulling Clovis into a false sense of security was always… easy.
Cornelia scowls, "That's why I don't understand how you can be so soft on the scum that murdered him. Certainly, father wouldn't have wanted our great nation to be lead astray—"
"I am the Emperor now, not father," Lelouch's interruption is calm and patient but his tongue could slice cleanly through marble. "I won't nurture his delusions for the sake of pride." Practically heresy to say such a thing.
There's no time to waste. Lelouch forwent the pomp and ceremony by fast-tracking himself to succeeding as the 99th Emperor of Britannia – it's unfolding almost more like a "battlefield promotion" which isn't all that inaccurate. With Schneizel in Japan Lelouch's christening is ultimately the flourish of signatures on some choice, official documents. His first act of halting all hostilities has expectedly drawn hard lines in the ground. Seems, in this case, the pen is mightier than the sword.
This isn't the way Lelouch planned to bring Britannia to its knees, but in the end, they will kneel all the same. Destruction can take many forms – this one just isn't the fun "raining brimstone" kind of form. Then again, he did manage to shatter that absurd weapon overhead of his parents, so, that counts.
Whatever the "gods" think or don't think of little Earthlings, there is something to be said about leaving others to self-determinate. It wasn't the Gods that failed humanity, it's humans that need to learn from their own history and save themselves – something a tyrant like Charles zi Britannia wouldn't enable.
Cornelia's jaw tenses, "I am… only concerned."
She's racist, is what she is. Cornelia has been a loyal servant to the elitist, Darwinist preaching of their former Emperor and apparently never questioned a word – Euphemia's opposite in nearly every way. Cornelia can't be blamed for having her head filled with such tripe but she is to blame for never thinking her own thoughts about it. Now Lelouch is the harbinger pushing their nation the other way (maybe even turning it inward against itself), undoing decades of domination. Even so, her concern about Zero isn't unwarranted.
Clovis is still very dead, after all.
"Zero is a person, too. A son, brother or father," Lelouch states, finally turning to face the rest of the room with violet eyes inherited from his father, almost like his strengthened and controlled Geass. "He had something he was protecting and fighting for the only way he knew how against an enemy that cared naught to listen. Same for those that followed him."
Cornelia raises a sharp eyebrow at him and her eyes sharpen, but then she sighs with concession.
"You really do sound like Euphie sometimes."
"Or she's the one who sounds like me," Lelouch smirks. There can only be one original.
To his genuine surprise, Cornelia lightly laughs, "Either way, it's concerning."
Where Lelouch is secretly amused, Euphemia pretends to pout: "I take exception to that," she crosses her arms over her chest.
So maybe there's also the notion that Cornelia still sees Lelouch as the ten-year-old little lad scampering about with her pony-tailed little sister, rather than the young adult leaders they are. Lelouch thinks he can, maybe, understand that if it was Nunnally who became Empress – that pigtailed girl who liked playing in the dirt and twisting flowers into crowns with Euphemia and Clovis…
Maybe those were the only real moments of Lelouch's childhood.
(With Clovis, maybe Lelouch killed one of the few people who actually cared about him—
No.
No room for regrets.)
Jeremiah appears at the open threshold with a polite knock, as if on his usual cue of interruption, and informs that they are ready and awaiting Lelouch's—the Emperor's arrival.
"I think that Lelouch is doing the right thing," Euphemia says as she stands and everybody begins to take their leave. "Maybe it won't be easy but calling an end to the Areas is the right thing to do. What better place to start than Japan? Endless warfare across the world benefits no-one."
Except for war-profiteers, such as weapons and knightmare manufacturers, that is – which is a considerable chunk of Britannia's wealthy citizens.
"It wouldn't be the high road if it was easy," Lelouch replies with more irony than anybody in this room can appreciate – except maybe a rather silent Suzaku still playing statue.
Euphemia slings her arms around Lelouch without any preamble but with all of her energy and affection.
"I want to wish you good luck," she warmly says in his ear.
"What's with that?" Lelouch's mechanical arms don't feel equipped to return her embrace, but he manages to pat her back at least. "You've agreed to be an ambassador so it isn't as though this is goodbye."
She pulls back with a smile that tugs at heartstrings from so long ago Lelouch thought they were severed – she seems to have that effect…
"It's just a big moment out there, is all."
A small, airy smile quirks Lelouch's lips that he feels in his chest. "We'll be sharing it, won't we?"
Euphemia wrangles him into another hug but her arms cling tighter than before, fingers clenching fabric – into the stitched eye with a red, flying iris on his back.
"I love you," she privately murmurs in his ear. "I haven't said that since…" A noticeable waver briefly claims her voice. "I'm so happy that you're back."
Goddamn it.
It's like she has an exclusive, direct track to his feels.
(Like a sword through his chest…)
They part without another word and Lelouch releases a shallow, subtle exhale through his nose after they're gone and looks to Suzaku awaiting his gaze. He looks nervous but not rattled.
"You ready?" Lelouch asks stepping closer.
Suzaku seems to hiss out a pent-up breath as he steps to close the gap, eyes lowered on the polished floor.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." He laughs a little at himself, peeking up at Lelouch's watching eyes. "Maybe not the best response. I guess I should've said something witty."
Lelouch raises his bare hand and lifts up Suzaku's chin so their cool-hued eyes meet clearly and unobstructed.
"Fortunately, you're not here for your wit," he says through a smirking touch of mirth.
It visibly eases some tension from Suzaku's body and even shakes a snicker loose from his throat.
"I know. I'm here to look pretty."
"People always underestimate pretty faces," Lelouch smugly quips.
(Insert-something about how the Devil takes pleasing shapes-here.)
"This is just… it feels unreal." Suzaku's gloved-hands fist at his sides. "If I'm honest I didn't think I'd be around to witness anything like this, let alone be part of it. I don't know, maybe I felt like I didn't deserve it."
It's more accurate to say that Suzaku might've preferred to die trying.
"You were part of the Zone," Lelouch states instead.
Suzaku weakly half-shrugs – baggage tugging at his straight posture, "That was an important step and I felt similar but this is… so much bigger. This is the end – the top of a mountain that we've been climbing on hands and knees. And that was with Euphie… You and I weren't exactly cordial at the time."
The Euphemia part isn't worth dwelling on (anymore.) Lelouch and Suzaku were two rams butting heads over the same thing and Euphemia was the soft lamb on Suzaku's side (who almost became the sacrificial lamb serving Lelouch's side.)
"And I've been thinking about what you said, Lelouch. About how what happened to you as a child led you to where you are now."
It's the only thing Lelouch could credit to his parents if he felt so inclined to credit them anything.
"I don't know if our lives would've been better if any one thing had happened differently and I'm still… holding regrets, but maybe this is where we were supposed to be so that we could do this here and now. Together. Maybe we had to make sacrifices and mistakes so that we can know and do better from here on out."
There is some wisdom to Suzaku's words but Lelouch isn't so quick to believe in something such as fate. Most of his life has been out of his hands and in his parents'. …And-or uncle. Even as Zero he was barely fighting against the grain, but there's no doubt that he is taking control of his life for the first time since he was born. They have learned painful lessons getting here and only fools don't head history.
"But now I'm just thinking that… everything I've done to get here, what I've sacrificed and how hard I've tried, this is the moment that I've been waiting for. It's all built to this moment and all I can think about is that I just want to be at home with the baby right now," Suzaku finishes with a breathy laugh and goofy grin.
Lelouch smiles, finding the feeling infectious.
"I'm excited, for the first time in a long time, but I don't know if I'm good enough. If I'll be good enough."
"You're more than good enough," Lelouch firmly insists. Probably better than Lelouch deserves. Repairing Suzaku's remaining complexes will take time – time they both now have: "In fact, this leads me to ask if you want to proceed as only my Knight," he reaches into and pulls something out of his loose layers of white, "or as a Knight-Consort?" –Just a fancier way of saying Knight Husband and less embarrassing way of saying Life Partner.
Suzaku looks at him with blinking eyes but Lelouch only offers mild grin and the small, palm-sized white box in his hand. The seahorse takes the box and opens the hinged lid, eyes widening and mouth hanging open.
"This is…?" Suzaku looks at the twin set of rings in awe.
"Recognize it?" Lelouch grins a little and caringly plucks one from the plush bottom crevice. "It's the same red thread that you brought to the Shrine, set in glass on a steel band. More of a trinket, really, and actually only symbolic since same-sex marriages aren't legalized in the empire. You're also a 'number' without noble standing so in the current climate we can't actu—"
"Just shut up and kiss me before you spoil the moment," Suzaku simpers, pulling Lelouch closer by his cheeks.
Lelouch kisses his grin against Suzaku's lips.
Marrying Suzaku, that's another reason on but a mountain of reasons to become emperor – and what a pair they'll make. Lelouch vi Britannia: half commoner, once banished and back from the dead now gay "married" to Suzaku: a number turned Honorary Britannian serving against his own people, former Knight of a former Princess who was another number sympathizer and now husband to an errant Emperor… (Not to mention their mixed-blood child. Lelouch would prefer to keep that secret for as long as possible. Explanation notwithstanding, it's safer for the time being.) If somehow all of Lelouch's other plans don't crack the bedrock of the Britannian Empire that should at least shake the foundation.
"You would spring this on me now, of all times," Suzaku says when they part, evergreens not just brimming but overflowing with wet, fuzzy warmth.
A subtle slyness smirks Lelouch's lips, "I should've known you'd be all emotional and weepy." Maybe he did know, but also maybe the custom rings weren't ready before today. So there. "But I thought this would be romantic? And that you'd like it." Right, and that, too.
"I do," Suzaku sniffles, rubbing at his watering eyes. "And I appreciate it. You put a lot of thought into this."
Of course. Lelouch puts a lot of thought into everything.
He's Lelouch.
"Is this a yes?" Lelouch can't help giving a teasing push. "You should know this could be a lengthy engagement." And that he'd be stuck with Lelouch.
Forever.
And ever.
Suzaku smiles and somehow it warms his eyes even more, "We have time, and I think I'll enjoy the wait."
All right, so, that's a pretty good answer.
Lelouch pulls the long, white, thin leather glove from Suzaku's left hand and slides the fated red ring onto Suzaku's ring finger – so much better than the Geass commands he sees reflected back at him in the eyes of his subjugated pieces. Suzaku gazes briefly at the ring on his left hand before taking the other out of the box. Lelouch lets his first and only best friend take his right hand like at the shrine and watches fingers slide the matching "trinket" onto his ring finger. He'll be wearing gloves when he leaves this room, so, for now, their engagement will be their little secret for a—
Droplets splash on the back of his ecru hand and he looks up to a more-teary-eyed Suzaku.
"Now, now." Lelouch lifts his hands and wipes away tears under Suzaku's eyes with tender thumbs. "We can't have my Knight of Zero weeping out on stage during the ceremony," he says.
Suzaku sniffs and takes a hanky that Lelouch offers to wipe his nose, "I'll be fine. Maybe it's just leftover baby hormones."
…Sure.
The new Knight-Consort to-be admires the ring on his hand once more and a smile blooms on his face like the sunflowers of their shared childhood.
"I think it's perfect," Suzaku affectionately announces.
Complacency (that's totally deserved) spreads a comfortable smile across Lelouch's lips as he slides his arms around the waist of his better half, pulling them flush together.
"I don't do any less," he says, before dipping them in a deep, lingering kiss with only the ornate furnishings and the resurrected garden playing witness.
He realized that indefinable something about Suzaku that rooted into his chest (heart) is actually something very simple: home. Falling in love, being in love, isn't about the epic romance or grand ideals that fairy tales like to paint; it's the belonging. Real love is unconditional, platonic or otherwise, and it feels like coming home. That's exactly what Suzaku gave Lelouch and Nunnally when they lost theirs and didn't think they'd have one again – Suzaku reminded Lelouch of what he could have after not one but two near-tragic reunions.
Nunnally is home.
Suzaku is home.
Even the Student Council.
Maybe that's something that took Lelouch too long to realize, maybe he was just too buried in the past, or maybe he just really needed his vengeance before he could rest. Maybe it doesn't matter, now. Home is something Lelouch can hold in his arms, as he hopes to one day cradle his child, and he's never ever going to let go.
Universe, Gods, whoever or whatever else, be damned—
At the moment, it seems only Jeremiah is the hindrance. He must have an interruption hobby or something. The older man is respectful with that little throat-clearing of his, like a humanoid snooze button reminding the Emperor of the waiting world. As if Lelouch would forget. He and Suzaku will walk out together. Lelouch pats Suzaku's cheek and excuses himself for a quick moment, leaving Jeremiah and Suzaku to stare at each other in the same room.
Alone.
In the
M
O
S
T
awkward of silences.
The Britannian breaks it first with a subdued clearing of his throat, as he is one to do lately.
"So…"
Suzaku's eyes dully glaze at Jeremiah.
"About that whole… framing you for murder thing…"
Suzaku is almost tempted to let his flat stare speak for him. "I think you've been punished for that, Orange-kun."
Jeremiah meagerly grins. "Yes, well…" He coughs again. "You know how it is."
Suzaku's eyebrow quirks so hard it almost snaps right off his face.
No, he doesn't know "how it is."
And that wasn't an apology, if that is what the disgraced knight was attempting.
But the Honorary Britannian lets it go with a curt sigh. He supposes it doesn't matter. Jeremiah has suffered since—
Now that Suzaku thinks about it: Zero ruined Jeremiah.
Lelouch ruined Jeremiah.
A small smile tickles at Suzaku's lips, despite himself.
•-•
Out on the grandest of all the stoops in the land of what will formerly be the Viceroy's building, Lelouch vi Britannia has risen from the grave and takes the metaphorical stage to meet his alter-ego. Cameras flash in a pulsating ripple while others feed the sunny scene live to the entire world watching and waiting for anything to happen next. Lelouch couldn't stop this from being a spectacle even if he wanted – this moment deserves a fuss. It certainly makes for a strange image in his mind, considering he's on the Britannian side with Cornelia and the like behind him instead of on the rebel side with Ohgi and Tohdoh… And yet, there's still a fluttery sense of déjà vu from the dramatic Zone day.
In the most surreal moments of Lelouch's life – more than when he met his mother's ghost – he's shaking hands with his alter ego. Something that was supposed to be his alter ego. A creation born from his own blood, the weeping wounds in his chest, that hardened around him for protection. But it also almost sank him into an abyss he would never be able to rise from, whether or not he wanted to. Right or wrong, he'd always done what he had to and that wouldn't have changed until his last breath—
(A thousand needles left uneaten.
A thousand cranes left unfolded?
A little sister left behind cradling the new world in her palm, a lifetime and more of infinite possibility only without a brother to share any of it.
Regrets enough to fill the universal void.)
Lelouch is caught in his reflection in Zero's mask, seeing himself stare back twice in two forms. He felt like he was spreading his broken wings and finally taking flight with Zero's cape and now he's standing taller still under a Britannian crown.
But he's always been both.
It's just a strange feeling of being split in half. It's like when his mother used to prune new growths from her plants and plant them to grow on their own into new life, only Lelouch can't tell which he is – the original stalk or the new bloom. Of course, inside the mask currently is C.C. but that doesn't lessen the moment, particularly to their audience. The majority of peace papers and official fuss have already been signed, dated and sealed so this show is for… show. Mostly. The terms Lelouch vi Britannia proposed have already been agreed upon by Zero and his Black Knights – it's ultimately a form of Britannian surrender so it isn't as though Lelouch made all the decisions. Ohgi and the others have their suspicions, still do (won't be soon when the world can trust Britannia again), but here they are taking another chance with a seemingly well-meaning Britannian crown just like they did with Euphemia and the world playing witness yet again…
Lelouch sees the red laser dot swaying on Zero' chest and—
He just lunges—
Maybe too much exposure to Suzaku, for he's shoving his masked counterpart (his loyal, immortal friend) out of the way—
The gunshot cracks in the air, piercing right through him instead and pain erupts within him in a blazing wave—
He hears another crack under the blue sky as he crashes to the ground, limp, cold and hot. The impact of his bones and the surrounding shrieks of fear and panic fall away, off the edges of his mind until only his panicked heartbeat is filling his head. A flash of Jeremiah from the corner of his eye and booming commands are just wax melting into his ears. He sees Zero limp beside him and his reflection in a mask spattered with his own blood before he's pulled into a guarding embrace and Suzaku's worried eyes rain down on him. For a loose, ephemeral moment all that darkness Lelouch danced with on the edges of his heart inside that mask pours in thick and heavy, and so quickly the world dims from his eyes…
(…In order to recreate, first he must destroy.)
•-•
-••-
[The following Monday finds Lelouch in his most detested class changing into his loathsome gym uniform before going outside to "exercise" like an un-evolved simpleton. The only bright side, which is definitely not the overly bright sun boring down on him, is that he does get to spend more time with Suzaku. Normally when Lelouch attends this "class" the exercise nut insists on all that exercising, so typically Lelouch is more or less watching Suzaku jog by on seemingly infinite laps while he walks his slow, single lap with Rivalz when the boy feels chatty. Which is most of the time. And a quiet Nina.
Butt today…
The usually athletic soldier boy is more content to take it slowly along with Lelouch and Rivalz. To think, as long as Lelouch keeps Suzaku preoccupied with other types of exercise, his suffering of P.E. won't be as bad. Maybe they could just supplement the class altogether for this extracurricular exercising…
They amble around the track and Rivalz notices the certain three-ring bully circus formerly appearing in the locker room isn't around. He speaks of overhearing that their classmates were transferred back to the mainland possibly for family reasons.
Yeah.
They thought they could fu—screw with Lelouch and his family, so they got their asses kicked ("transferred" via Geass to the proper school officials) back to the mainland where they and that hateful, barbarous behavior belong. Lenient, but at least they won't be hurting anybody else. Suzaku doesn't say much about that. But the black-haired boy is rather content to quietly listen to Suzaku trip over some half-thought excuse for his considerable limp that Rivalz doesn't honestly question. Not even later in the locker room when the evidence carved into Lelouch's pearly back is exposed.
"Lelouch, your back!" Rivalz practically hisses, shirtless and stepping into his Ashford slacks. Then a strange and quite unwelcome glimmer fills his eyes. "Who's the lucky lady?"
How very crass and presumptuous.
Lelouch just pulls on his white button undershirt as if the scratches aren't there – they aren't deep or really painful, but he can still feel them. More than he can see them, anyway.
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Lelouch coolly denies, catching a sweetly secret glance from Suzaku's eyes and subtly smiling mouth.
"But—!" Rivalz balks. "Telling's half the fun!"
Not from where Lelouch is standing.]
*stifles slightly sinister snickering* Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading! One chapter left to go! ;]
Also, cyber cookies to anybody that recognized the Nightmare of Nunnally riff. And I apologize to bananas.
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