Title: Entanglement

Pairing: SuzkauLelouch

Rating: M

Summary: …I don't have one.

Warning: sex, blood, gore, general miss use of power. Kind of, sort of one-sided. a little dub-con as well. This is the only warning you're getting so read from here on out at your own risk.

Disclaimer: Guess what? Code Geass ain't mine.

I

4/23/2012 11:08 AM

It started with her.

Lying in bed, looking up at the ornate ceiling, Lelouch couldn't get his mind to calm. No matter what he did, he couldn't get himself to sleep, chase away his thoughts and refocus his energy on something of value.

Playing like a movie in his mind's eye it would always start out with a glimpse of his Knight. Usually right before they retired to bed, just a small nod from the Japanese boy and Lelouch's mind would go spinning. Yes, he was his—all his, all Lelouch's. Nothing could take the boy from him nothing, nothing, NOTHING!

But then as he'd dress for bed, pulling on the fine fabric of his night shirt—he'd remember it. Suzaku hadn't always been his, all of him would never be Lelouch's. He had already belonged to someone else. Suzaku had slipped out right under his fingers, slipped out and into –her grasp. Lelouch had made every plan perfectly, just to have it destroyed by her, in one move, in one act of thievery.

That's when his thoughts would creep up on him, and laying wide eyed in bed he wouldn't be able to get rid of them. He could see it, the perfect couple that they were. The way the Suzaku used to brush against her, his fingers linger just for a second against the inside of her palm. Then there was the way they would look at each other. Even Lelouch—as Zero—could see it. Her eyes would soften at the sight of her Knight, her chest rising just a fraction in a silent sigh of relief (Suzaku was there, everything would be fine, everything was perfect). And that smile—that smile Lelouch had reserved in his mind as—his. It was the way that Suzaku would smile at him when he'd first saw him. It was the smile that Suzaku would have when he looked down at Nunnally and let her find and latch onto his rough hand. It was his and that silly little girl had stolen it all from him.

The thoughts never stopped there—never just stalled before he knew it would be painful. He'd think of how that same gentleness Suzaku had with her would progress, how it would come into play as they… He would always close his eyes, imagining those perk soft lips, dusted with light pick and the way that Suzaku would press his lips to hers. It was probably such a blissful moment, feeling his lips. Suzaku was so—he was life, pure life, and action, and man and they would probably start to move closer to each other. Her arms would curl around Suzaku's neck, pressing herself to him, soft breast pressing against him, and with her arms up giving easy access for him to touch. But he wouldn't, not yet, Suzaku was too kind for that. He would wind his arms around the thin curve of her waist and pulling her against him.

They couldn't have stopped there. They were too close, Suzaku mourned her too much, still kept that blasted pin at hand far too much. No, she would have opened up to him, laying back against the soft sheets and hooking her legs around him, pulling him to her.

If he could have stopped his thought process then he would have done it, but—but instead his hand would move down. In thinking about his Knight—what he had done with her—it was inevitable to think what it would have been like if it had been him, Lelouch, if it had been him under Suzaku, feeling the boy moving against him.

It was so –dreamlike almost. Before he knew it one hand was at his mouth, fingers splayed over his lips to stop any sound from leaking as his other hand moved. He couldn't ever remember the first moment of sliding his pants down or wrapping his long fingers around his erect cock

It was his mind that really wouldn't stop though. His mind that latched onto the idea of his Suzaku. He could imagine them so simplistic—the perfect lovers. Suzaku would have been gentle with her, holding her close to him as he moved. Lelouch could hear the echoes of her small whines for more, and could only think of—what if Suzaku were doing that to him? What type of sounds would he make? Would Suzaku be gentle with him as well? Would Lelouch beg for more? Would he lay back or demand control over their lovemaking?

He would wonder about her soft climax, her arching up and into her lover, a quit little whimper escaping her lips, before falling back, that sunset rosed hair splayed out around her. And Suzaku would have loved it, clinging to her before reaching his own finish.

The idea of Suzaku finishing inside of Lelouch possibly always was the worst. It would send his hand into a frenzy, actually pumping at his erection, jerking it almost roughly. His body would curl more and more the closer he got to completion. He'd clamp his hand over his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut. Sound would escape past his fingers, moans and whimpers, pathetic sounds Lelouch wanted no one to ever hear from him.

And then he would hit it—that golden moment. Every muscle in his body stiffening immediately, his hand still at his cock, thumb moving over the tip, milking himself for all that the experience was worth. It was all he had after all. She had already taken Suzaku away from him before Lelouch had ever had a chance.

It would only take minutes to come out of his blur before, moody and spent, he'd yank the covers over his shoulder and huddle up in his vast bed, wishing he wasn't the only one there, but never admitting it. When sleep came—his dreams would torture him only further.

("Lelouch, I'm yours. I'm your Knight.")

He would have liked to believe that his fascination with blood had started with his mother. Her violent, vile death across the main staircase of the Ares Villa should have been what had scarred him enough to stir up the darker side of him. Seeing that deep red liquid drip from his mother's fingertips should have been what sparked that side of him. Seeing Nunnally helpless and even blinded by what happened should have stirred anger and hatred and brewed them into a frenzy of feelings. Looking into the dead lifeless, wide eyes of his mother should have been the first time that he'd been faced with violent death.

But it hadn't been the start of it, and sadly Lelouch knew it. It had started much earlier, when he should have been just another royal child.

"Oh my," Euphie said, her brow furrowed as she peered down at the small bird on the patio steps of the expansive villa. "How did it ever get here?" She asked as she looked around to Lelouch.

The tiny little thing peeped and tweeted in distress. Still wobbly and uneasy in its steps the thing was a puffed up ball of baby blue down feather. It scrabbled around on thin scrawny legs, stuck on the stairs, unable to go up and unable to go down. It flapped the underdeveloped wings at the sides of it's body in a useless attempt to lift itself into the air.

Lelouch looked up. Sharp eyes found the full nest of blue puff balls. The siblings didn't even seem to miss their fallen brother. The parents were of course out of sight and out of mind. Lelouch had wondered whether they would worry when they returned. Would they even notice? With at least three chicks still left, what was the loss of just one foolish child?

"Lelouch!" Euphie whined for his attention. Always whining, always the same kind brand of attention grabbing, which was what his younger sister was to him.

His hand gripped onto the long, thin letter opener in his hand a bit tighter. He'd used it just moments before. His mother had sent himanother letter from Pendragon. Her services had been required and—as always her children had been left behind to fend for themselves.

Even the letter he had received—it had only been a few lines. His mother was staying in Pendragon for a few extra weeks.

"What should we do?" Euphie asked. She looked so worried. Her skirts puffed up as she plopped down on the steps next to the bird. It gave a loud squeak before scrambling away from her. "We can't just leave him here." The little bird's attempt at getting away from her was futile as Euphie leaned forward, shifting her knees to look over at the bird with wide worried lavender eyes.

Of course, Euphemia was always concerned for the small things in life. The chick was only the tip of the iceberg. She was always concerned with the pawns, the meaningless and mundane.

("Lelouch! Don't be so rude. I'm sure your servants didn't mean it. It was only a mistake.")

Lelouch stepped forward, scooping the bird up into his hand. He thought about it, looking down at the sharp letter opener in his other hand. The silver jeweled-handled had gleamed up at him, reflecting the light o the sun. But he would always remember that he had thought about his action first. His mind had been acute as ever and he had thought it completely through.

He tightened his grip on the bird, holding it in place. The thing squealed at the constriction, struggling in the grasp of Lelouch's pale fingers. At least up until Lelouch raised the letter opener.

Euphie's gasp was the only sound, her hands going up to her face. The limp body of the small bird was released a second late, falling to the cold hard cement below. Dead black eyes staring back up at Lelouch. Lelouch didn't move for a moment, just watched as the bird didn't get up, didn't stir. It was amazing at the thrill he felt. It was real control in that moment. real honest control over another being—and he had won. It wasn't until he shifted his gaze did he notice his own condition.

Lelouch turned to the nearest servant. He held up his arm, presenting a stark red stain. "There's blood on my jacket."

No one moved.

He blinked at the servant. Her wide eyes, hands shaking with the silver platter she had brought the letter to Lelouch on. From head to toe the women looked—weak. Lelouch put his arm down, watching to see if his demand would yet be fulfilled. When it wasn't, he stepped forward, placing the letter opener on the platter. A red stain quickly formed from the dripping blade and soaked into the tissue paper on the platter. Taking it first though, was the letter. Red stained parchment quickly became unreadable. What few lines that had been given vanished in a wash of bright bird's blood.

Unfazed, Lelouch removed his soiled jacket and set it over the servants arm. His problems solved he turned back towards the villa's main house. It turned out he was lucky for once, Euphie didn't bother him with her whining for the rest of the day.

Watching him work, watching his Knight work was—invigorating. Lelouch licked his lips as he sat atop his throne. They were changing the world. They were doing it for real this time, because together they could do anything.

And Lelouch was getting everything he had ever wanted.

Then Suzaku turned towards him, that beautiful face gazing at only him. If nothing else it was thrilling to know that Lelouch had done this to Suzaku. Euphie had commanded every Knight of Britannia to slaughter millions—but Lelouch, Lelouch was the only one that had succeeded in getting Suzaku to do it.

His imagination had immediately started to wonder as he watched his knight there, bloodstained sword in hand, gazing back at him. Lelouch froze. The garb of his imperialism hid any signs of arousal. This was just-it was the first time that outside of his bedroom that he had felt like this. There was always attraction—always—but he'd never had such a reaction before in public. The executions had even been televised, so the entire world could clearly see as their emperor was crippled with desire.

Desire for him.

Lelouch realized, if nothing else, He wanted Suzaku; he wanted every part of him that could possibly be had. Any fantasy before this moment was just—a prequel.

Suzaku turned fully and faced Lelouch. "Your highness?" he asked with a cock of his head that was ever so slight.

Immediately, Lelouch could see it. Across the Knights cheek was a single stray drop of blood. It clearly wasn't Suzaku's, making it all the more enthralling.

Lelouch stood. His white robs dragged across the floor behind him as he strode forward. Unlike when he was a child, he didn't give a care this time as he continued down and to the platform. His shoes and long robes were stained—irreparably—the moment he strode on to the excitation platform.

Clearly surprised, it was interesting to Lelouch that Suzaku hadn't moved as his emperor approached him. Lelouch stepped too close—to close for any normal friendship. It was even more interesting that Suzaku didn't look away from Lelouch's face as one pale long hand came up. Lelouch leaned towards him—so close he could feel Suzaku's breath, their cloths touching, there was nothing to look at besides each other. With one long finger Lelouch wiped the drop of blood away from Suzaku's tanned skin. It was a brisk action, startling Suzaku enough to blink a little, but not enough that he actually moved. Green eyes just continued to watch Lelouch.

Lelouch tore his eyes away from his knight long enough to look down at his finger. And he thought about it. He would always remember that he had thought about his actions before—he licked his finger. The coppery tang of blood was there, but beyond it was almost tasteless. It tasted nothing like he'd imagined. For some reason he always thought it would be more like wine…

When he looked up, Lelouch was met with confused but beautiful, deep eyes.

"You're so beautiful."

It was only a whisper. Only Suzaku would have heard it, possibly the only one that would ever admit that it had been said as well. It had slipped out of Lelouch's mouth before he could realize.

A smile spread on Lelouch's lips before he sunk back onto the balls of his feet, removing himself form such close proximity to his knight. Lelouch even slid back a step, letting Suzaku have his personal space back to himself. He looked straight ahead, straight to the others. They had only been there to watch the example of rebels and traitors. They were all prisoners, but only meant there as an audience to the atrocities of the Demon Emperor... That smile of Lelouch's lips only spread.

"Kill them all." Lelouch said over his shoulder as he turned back to his throne.

No one moved.

It wasn't until Lelouch was seated again, leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand, over the arm of the chair that there was any reaction. Green, confused eyes looked up at him still. Suzaku even blinked a couple of times before he turned. With a swift action of the sword, flicking off the excess blood, Suzaku motioned to the guards to do as the emperor had ordered.

One by one the prisoners were led up to the platform—and then taken care of.

Lelouch reveled in every little splatter of blood that Suzaku was covered in. The platform was awash with the deep red liquid and Suzaku still just kept at it, following Lelouch's orders to the upmost to his ability. It was control, pure control over his Knight. Euphie would have never asked for such a terrible thing—but Lelouch had, and Lelouch had received his answer, his perfect, obedient and diligent answer.

"Yes." Lelouch whispered to himself that night as he lay in bed. "Yes, Suzaku, you will be mine."

I shouldn't start another story. I shouldn't start another story. I shouldn't start another story. I have finals, and I have work to be done. I have three journal commissions to get done! Besides there are other stories very close to their ending that should be worked on instead and—HEY GUYS! Guess what? I started another story. :3