A/N: I don't really think there's anyone but myself to blame for this.
Disclaimer: The fact that I need a disclaimer says it all.
Warnings: Nothing but slash and pseudo incest, and I suppose it's... kind of dark?
the boy who cried wolf
Lelouch's mouth is pleasantly, hazily warm on his neck, slender fingers stroking a hipbone through cloth. Rolo buries his face into the scratchy fabric of the pillow, laughs into it as the same fingers began to crawl up his side. He doesn't try to think of how those tender areas are just like pressure points, except they cause laughter rather than pain.
Everything is thick and slow around him, like a summer day spent on green hills, like the circulation of blood in a dying body. Sunlight filters in through the white curtains and illumintes the dust motes spinning round and round. He cannot see his brother's face. Rolo can feel the warmth of his form next to him, long and slim and fitting against him like a matching puzzle piece, one arm thrown around his waist while the other tickles him. It is the first time he's felt happy, the first time he hasn't ever felt awkward in the role he plays. Maybe it's that he knows that Lelouch loves him.
Then one hand is on his mouth. Rolo wonders, for a mere second, what new game this is. It isn't very funny, he thinks, too much like asphyxiation, and it makes him squirm into the soft sheets and firm bed.
He sucks in a breath when the hand is gone, prepares to ask his brother what he's doing, and then Lelouch's mouth is on his own. His nose is being pinched and there is a knee digging into his belly, and his arms cannot reach the pockets of his pajamas, the knife strapped to his thigh.
As spots began to flicker across his vision, he pushes all his energy into making his Geass activate. He feels it began, feels the last heavy thump of his heart that signifies it— and then it stops and his eyes are watering and he can feel his mouth being bruised, his lips being bitten. It shouldn't even work this way, he's not supposed to die, why is this happening— Lelouch loves him, this has to be an impostor, he would never ever do this to him. His fingers can grasp nothing but air, nothing but the shirt covering Lelouch's back, and he does not have enough energy to try and push him away. Rolo tries anyway, brings up a leg in a weak kick, and underneath the drone of cicadas in his ears he could swear he heard Lelouch laugh.
Rolo wakes up. There is blood running from his mouth and sweat sticks his clothes to his skin, and dark shadows bruise his bloodshot eyes. He presses his fingertips to the mirror, fogs it up with his breath and wonders why he's so glad that he's able to breathe.
A/N: I actually really like this. xD Shock! I don't think I did too bad of a job with Rolo, considering it's my first time writing him.
Feedback appreciated!