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Cosplay	By : LaKytalla Category: +. to F > Code Geass Views: 3158 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Code Geass and the characters within it belong to Sunrise and the people who created it, not me. I make no money off of this piece of fanwork.

Chapter List
- 1-Cosplay
- 1
A/N: Written for a kinkmeme request. Additional warnings: prostitution, obviously, and Diethard being kind of creepy.

Diethard made his way carefully toward his destination, well aware that as an obviously well-to-do Britannian he cut a rare figure in the ghettos, even on their edges. It was dangerous to do this too often, but on days like today, having spent hours in Zero’s presence, he couldn’t stop himself.

He slipped into the establishment without a hint of shame. He was aware of the consequences if someone he knew were to see him, but the worry was easy to put out of his mind. The receptionist recognized him, and after receiving his payment straight away had him led to the appropriate section of the building.

As the door closed behind him, Diethard looked over the offerings. All cloaked in black and red, all wearing the signature purple and gold suit and – of course – all in that distinctive helmet. They were all knock-offs, of course, cheap copies of the true Zero, but they would have to do.

One of them inclined its head toward him, and it was to this one his attention was most drawn. It was difficult to differentiate overmuch between the false Zeros standing before him, clothed as they all were in the same uniform, and all of a similar build, but there was something striking about this one. Something about the way he held himself – for Diethard was certain it must be a man – intimidating and quietly self-assured rather than with the coyness that was so often employed by these prostitutes.

Diethard stepped forward, extending a hand to the false Zero. After a moment, he rose from his seat and followed Diethard through the door off the side of the room.

The blank mask turned to face Diethard as the door shut. His presence was so like that of the real Zero’s that Diethard felt it would be wrong to act first.

“Well?” said the man at last, and his voice was similar, too, although devoid of Zero’s echoing quality. He made an elegant gesture in Diethard’s direction, as if he were asking him to provide some results. Diethard’s response was to take that hand and raise it to his lips. He turned it over and gently pulled the glove off, kissing the palm.

“My Lord,” he breathed. “Your skin is perfect.” It was, soft and youthful in appearance. Unexpectedly pampered for a whore in the ghettos, but it fit Diethard’s conception of Zero so perfectly that he was already beginning to get hard.

He kissed up the false Zero’s hand, pushing up his sleeve to expose his slender forearm so that he could kiss that as well. As he glanced up he saw the man swallowing – nervously? That was different.

He was possessed of a sudden urge to remove the mask. Usually he had the false Zero keep it on – it was easier to pretend this was the real thing when he couldn’t see the person’s face. But right now he wanted to look at the man he was going to fuck, thinking that he might resemble at least in part Diethard’s idea of Zero.

“My liege,” he said, straightening up. “Allow me to – ” He reached for the mask but the fake Zero raised his hand to stop him. Again unexpected, as the prostitutes generally went along with whatever fantasy their client desired to act out. But the man had only stopped him so that after a second of hesitation he might remove the helmet himself – an act so reminiscent of how Diethard expected the real Zero to act that he had to smile.

The man – boy, really – had his eyes shut as the mask was removed, making him appear strangely vulnerable. But as he set the mask down on the bedside table and opened them, he fixed Diethard with a cool, arrogant stare that sent the blood rushing to his groin.

“You are beautiful,” said Diethard. Never before had he had a desire to kiss any of the false Zeros, but now he stepped forward and pressed his lips to the boy’s. The fake Zero was rigid for a second, but he opened his mouth after a moment to accept Diethard’s pressing tongue, letting him direct the kiss. Diethard was at once dismayed and aroused – the real Zero would surely never allow himself to be so easily dominated, but the display of submission was strangely appealing. He pulled the boy close, letting him feel the pressure of Diethard’s erection against his leg, and made the kiss more demanding.

That got a reaction. Suddenly hands were in his hair, tugging as the fake Zero sought control of the kiss, pushing back against his body. And just as suddenly the kiss broke off, leaving the boy panting as he stared at him. There was a slight flush on his cheeks, and for a moment he looked very young and out of his depth, almost too young for Diethard to pretend this was Zero.

But then his eyes narrowed and he raised his head, staring down at Diethard – taller than him in his platform shoes, just like the real Zero– and said “Then prove your desire.”

It should have been a cheesy, cliché line, but from this boy, cloaked in Zero’s garments and giving Diethard such a haughty gaze as he spoke, it was an incontestable demand. Diethard lowered his gaze and took Zero’s zipper in his teeth, tugging it down slowly, kneeling so that his nose touched his stomach when the zipper came to its end. His mouth was hovering right over Zero’s groin, and he kissed it as he let go of the zipper. He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath, and he glanced up the other’s body, waiting for further instruction.

Zero shrugged out of his uniform without removing his cloak, moving back to elegantly step out of his pants. He turned so that the cloak hid him, surprisingly shy. Diethard was content to watch him move behind it from where he still knelt, absently rubbing himself.

Zero looked over his shoulder at him – Diethard stopped his movement immediately, ready to service Lord Zero as best he could, but the boy must have seen. The slight curling of his lip at the sight should have ruined the fantasy, should have made Diethard want to demand his money back and the whore retrained, if only because the distaste looked absolutely genuine. But for Diethard it only made it feel more real. He thought he might never have been more turned on in his life.

The cloak was angled such that when Zero turned around completely to face him straight on, it hid most of his body, allowing only the slightest, most tantalizing glimpses of his smooth, perfect body.

“Stand,” commanded Zero, and Diethard stood, approaching him eagerly. The boy’s eyes widened as if in alarm, and he stepped back, folding the cloak more tightly around him. He was just a little shorter than Diethard without his shoes, and maybe now it should have occurred to Diethard to be concerned, to wonder how much of his apparent discomfort with the situation was an act – but “My lord, let me please you,” breathed Diethard, caught up in his fantasy.

Zero – the boy playing Zero – hesitated for a moment and then sat on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs wide. The sight made Diethard’s cock jump, and he repressed a groan as he knelt down. Zero was still soft as Diethard took his testicles in hand and kissed the tip, but he was determined to change that.

He kissed and lapped Zero’s penis, stroking his balls and the shaft, suckling on the tip, until it hardened under his touches and he could taste the clear, salty fluid dripping from the tip. He pulled back to catch his breath, listening in satisfaction to the other’s laboured breathing.

Zero shifted his weight. “Continue,” he said, clearly trying but failing to hide his impatience. He sounded much less imposing now, a horny teenage boy being denied gratification. It made it easier for Diethard to stand up and go to collect the lube and condoms from the bedside table.

When he turned back around, the boy had scooted back on the bed, leaning back against the cushions with his legs spread and raised, bent at the knee. “Hurry up,” he said, voice edged but mostly even, obviously with effort.

Diethard clambered onto the bed like an eager virgin, fumbling at the top of the lube container and pouring a thick drizzle onto his index and middle finger. Zero pressed back into the pillows as Diethard leaned forward, almost like he was shying away – but his gaze was expectant.

Diethard trailed his hand up the boy’s thigh, watching his muscles twitch, and then rubbed gently against his perineum. He knew what he was doing – he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of Zero by being anything less than the perfect lover. Zero let out a little sigh and closed his eyes as he stroked him. When Diethard felt the entrance muscles relaxing, he slipped a finger in.

The Zero imitator immediately tensed up, his eyes flying open and his body curling slightly. That was definitely a surprise, not least because it looked to be a completely involuntary reaction. “It’s alright,” cooed Diethard, deciding that even if genuine it fit the part well enough, “Lord Zero will enjoy this…”

Maybe it was the reminder of who he was supposed to be playing, but the prostitute relaxed himself and half shut his eyes again as Diethard slipped that finger farther in, wiggling it. He was tighter than Diethard expected by far. When the next finger was added he tensed again, momentarily, but gritted his teeth and forced his body to relax once more. He turned his face away, staring at the wall with a blush as Diethard worked his fingers against the tight muscles of his ass, spreading and stretching them.

Diethard should have added a third finger to properly prepare him, make him perfectly ready for him, but the sight of the pretty, blushing boy outlined against the red of Zero’s cape, his hips unconsciously rising into the thrusts of Diethard’s fingers, made him impatient. He removed his fingers to undo his pants, ripping open a condom and sliding it on hurriedly. Zero was panting beneath him.

Normally at this point he would have the man turn around, fucking him from behind as he screamed and begged for more. For this Zero, though, now that he’d unmasked him he wanted to see his face. He positioned himself at his entrance and pushed in slowly, slowly. The boy went rigid and grasped his shoulders, letting out a little shuddering gasp of pain.

There was a faint edge of voice to the sound, and it made Diethard push in faster, wanting to draw out that soft, pained, vulnerable sound again and again from the boy in Zero’s cloak. When he was completely inside he opened his eyes to look down at him – his red face, his glassy eyes, his open, wet mouth. He was so tight it was almost unbearably good, and Diethard had been hard for a long time now.

But Zero looked to be almost in pain. He wasn’t making any sound at all now, much less demanding anything of Diethard, his mouth open but mute.

It didn’t fit Diethard’s imagination.

Vaguely annoyed, Diethard pulled back and thrust in again, harder, making him jerk and arch his back.

“Lord Zero,” said Diethard, trying to bring this back to his fantasy. One of his hands went to stroke the boy’s wilting erection and coax it back fully as he thrust in once more.

“Oh – ” said Zero, the moan something between pain and pleasure. Diethard changed the angle and tried again. “H-<i>hah</i>,” said Zero, almost a shout, and suddenly he was curling up against Diethard, his eyes hazy with pleasure.

“Do that again,” he ordered, sounding every inch the demanding, domineering, deep-voiced terrorist even with Diethard’s cock up his ass, and Diethard obeyed, again and again, drawing shuddering gasps and moans from him.

He realized that he was going to come soon – but it would be detrimental if Zero did not come as well. He slowed down a little, stroking the boy’s penis again. Then with a sudden insight, he leaned down to take one taut nipple in his mouth, licking his tongue over it.

The result was instantaneous. At once, Zero’s hips bucked and his grasp tightened, a little cut-off “Mmh - !” sound escaping him as he came. The pressure inside mounted and Diethard thrust into him twice, thrice, and followed him over the brink of orgasm with a contented hum.

He lay contented against Zero’s chest for a little while, and then the boy moved beneath him and he was reminded that there was a reality for him to return to. He cleaned himself up quickly, and just before he opened the door he turned to the Zero imitator.

“That was quite good,” he said, breaking character for the first time since he’d entered the room. “I hope you’ll be here the next time I visit.”

The Zero imitator had been pulling on his suit, but he looked up at Diethard’s words. “Maybe,” was all he said, and Diethard smiled as he left.

Lelouch met CC at the edges of the ghetto, for once dressed inconspicuously. She raised her eyebrows at him as he approached.

“Well?”

“It’s done,” he said, walking past her with barely a glance.

She fell into step behind him. “Oho, so you’re not a cherry boy anymore. Was it fun at least?”

“Hm.” A few more steps, and then, “It was… tolerable.”

“Was I right?”

Was she… oh, right. The initial reason he’d considered this had been to settle a petty bet with her that some of his top-ranking Black Knights had fantasies of fucking him. He’d vehemently objected to the suggestion… and then of course she had to call him a blushing virgin… and then…

“It was Diethard,” he said finally.

“The Britannian? I knew it.”

Lelouch kept walking. He’d felt a little sore when he first left the brothel from under the geassed owner’s nose, but it was becoming less and less noticeable.

“Don’t tell me he was the one to take your virginity,” said CC.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Alright, I won’t.”

She smirked. “That might be awkward for you in the future, you know. Still, I guess that means you owe me a pizza.”

Lelouch sighed. They were coming up to the train station. “When do I not?” he muttered, and she gave him a little smirk as she led the way to the tickets.
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