Clandestine
Warning(s): Explicit M/F
Disclaimer: Don't own Code Geass
The Kururugi boy was exceptionally well mannered. He always removed his shoes before entering her home and smiled that small, polite smile of his whenever he saw her. "Hello, Mrs. Lamperouge," he would say. "How are you doing?" Marianne would smile back and attempt to make conversation with the boy until her son inevitably pulled him away.
Yes, Suzaku Kururugi was an interesting boy and completely unlike Lelouch's other friends. Whenever Rivalz came over, he treated the house like his own, clomping around in muddy shoes and ransacking the refrigerator. Suzaku, on the other hand, always moved carefully and cautiously whenever he visited, almost as if he were afraid he might break or damage something.
Whenever Lelouch offered him anything to eat, Suzaku would courteously decline. In fact, her son practically had to force food down the poor boy's throat. It was rather amusing. However, the few times Marianne baked cookies, Suzaku would heartily accept when she offered him a couple.
"Thank you, Mrs. Lamperouge," Suzaku would say, his round cheeks puffing out as he broke into an uncharacteristically big grin. "These are delicious."
"You added too much salt," Lelouch would mutter.
Then Marianne would smile at her pouting son and say, "You could learn some manners from Suzaku, dear."
And every time she would give Suzaku an extra cookie, delighting in the way his green eyes and childish smile widened.
It wasn't long before Marianne realized that the boy was infatuated with her. It was cute, really. A precocious crush.
While Marianne busied herself with a mundane task such as tidying up the house, she would feel his eyes on her as Lelouch attempted to explain their algebra homework.
"Suzaku! Suzaku, are you paying any attention? You need to use the distance formula."
"Oh. Um, sorry."
Oh, Suzaku was fond of her children. He obviously cared about Lelouch and Nunnally. That was as clear as day. But he never looked at them the same way he did her. Not with the same adulation and veneration and…inklings of lust? No, that was silly. Presumptuous. The boy was only twelve, after all.
But there were times that Marianne wondered—wondered what exactly was going on in that head of his underneath that mass of unruly hair…
For instance, there was the time Marianne made the boys popcorn while they were watching a movie. When she entered the room, she was surprised to see her son leaning against Suzaku. When Lelouch caught sight of her, he flushed and straightened while Suzaku looked up and smiled. As she set the bowl of popcorn between them, she felt something brush against her hand and saw that Suzaku was staring at her, eyes darkened and narrowed; she held his gaze steadily.
But then something shifted, and his eyes were huge and juvenile once again, a blush spreading like a wildfire across his chubby cheeks. "T-thank you, Mrs. Lamperouge," he stammered out.
Marianne retreated, shaking her head.
Trick of the light. That was all.
As the years passed, Lelouch and Suzaku began spending less and less time at her home. Marianne realized this was normal. She realized that teenagers felt a need to assert their independence.
Still, it was rather lonely.
Even Nunnally seemed to have abandoned her for the Alstreim girl who lived down the street. And, of course, her husband was always away…
Marianne took up painting and joined a book club with a few other neighborhood mothers, but it didn't feel the void. Not completely, at least. She was always eager for her children to return home.
She knew Lelouch and Suzaku engaged in less than savory activities (e.g. gambling, ditching class), but she never confronted them about it. In fact, she probably never would have figured out what they were up to if it were not for Suzaku. Lelouch was a smooth and natural liar (an inherited trait), but Suzaku always looked supremely guilty, his eyes downcast as Lelouch concocted some story about how they stayed out late studying and had forgotten about the time.
After Lelouch had woven a sufficient web of lies ("This money? Oh, it's from a neighbor across the street. We helped her with some yard work…"), Suzaku would take his leave, mumbling, "Good-bye, Mrs. Lamperouge," still unable to meet Marianne's eyes.
She would, in turn, murmur, "Goodnight, Suzaku. Sleep well."
"I-I will. Thank you."
He could never hide that blush as he walked out the door.
Marianne wondered if it was because he wasn't sleeping well at night.
One morning, Marianne woke up early to find Lelouch in the kitchen.
"What are you up to, dear?"
Lelouch whirled around, eyes wide and horrified as if he had been caught in some despicable act. He attempted to shield the vegetables he had been chopping up as if they were incriminating evidence against him.
"That's none of your concern!" he spluttered.
Marianne plastered a fond smile on her face and cocked her head to the side. It wasn't every day that her usually composed son lost his cool. At the moment, he appeared rather fretful, and that only served to pique her interest.
"Lelouch," Marianne said slowly, gently as if her son was twelve years old again, "it was an innocent question. As your mother—"
She was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Lelouch hastily untied the apron he was wearing and went to answer the door. Marianne trailed a few steps behind, wondering who could possibly want something in these early hours.
It was Suzaku.
"Hi, Lelouch. Are we still going on that picnic you were talking about?"
Oh. Marianne's lips curled into a smirk.
"Yes, I just need to pack a few things. Could you wait outside for a minute?"
"Lelouch, where are your manners?" Marianne said, attempting to mask the utter amusement she was feeling. "You should invite Suzaku inside and offer him something to drink."
Suzaku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's fine, Mrs. Lamperouge. I really don't—"
"No," Lelouch said, cutting him off, his bright smile contrasting with his terse tone of voice, "my mother's right. Come in."
Suzaku obeyed, following Lelouch into the kitchen and taking a seat at the counter. While Lelouch packed various delicacies in a picnic basket, Marianne poured the boys glasses of lemonade.
"You know, Lelouch," Marianne said, back turned to the boys as her smirk reappeared, "your father used to take me on picnics. It was very romantic."
It was silent for a moment, and then Lelouch said, "Is that so?" There was an underlying tension in his tone.
"Yes, we used to watch the sunrise together." Marianne turned around and handed Suzaku his glass. "It was truly lovely." She punctuated this with a nostalgic, melancholic sight. "Unfortunately, I never get to go on picnics anymore."
"You should come with us, Mrs. Lamperouge!" As soon as Suzaku blurted this out, his face flushed beet-red, and he directed his eyes toward his hands folded in his lap. "I…I mean only if you want to…"
I would love to.
From her peripheral vision, Marianne could see that her son's mouth had twisted into a grimace. She shook her head. "Oh, no," she said. "I couldn't intrude like that."
Suzaku looked like he was about to say something, but Lelouch grabbed him by the arm and began to pull him away.
"Goodbye, mother," he muttered.
Marianne smiled at her scowling son and his disappointed friend as they left.
She felt less lonely than usual.
They were sitting on a blanket in a field surrounded by foliage and saplings, the sun beating down bright and hot, so Suzaku had to squint at his surroundings while beads of sweat prickled on his skin.
Lelouch did not seem at all bothered by the heat and was busying himself with setting out tiny sandwiches and crêpes. He leaned against Suzaku's shoulder as he worked, occasionally glancing back to smile at him.
Suzaku sighed, attempting to shift some of Lelouch's weight off of him. He was heavier than he looked.
"You know," Suzaku mused, breaking the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen your dad before."
"He travels frequently…for his work. Would you like a gougère?" Lelouch was holding out a basket of bread rolls.
Suzaku raised an eyebrow. "Gougère?"
"It's a cheese pastry."
Suzaku shook his head. "Uh, no thank you. Doesn't your mom get lonely?"
"She's used to it by now. Quiche?" Lelouch held out what appeared to be a pie…except that it was green. Suzaku wrinkled his nose.
"No thanks. You don't think it's hard on her that he's always away?"
Lelouch sighed in exasperation and set down the green-pie thingamabob. "Look, Suzaku," he said slowly, eyes narrowed, "I made this for you. The least you could do is eat some of it. As for my parents, I'd prefer if we didn't talk about them. Let's just enjoy…this."
"I'm sorry," Suzaku said, feeling guilty but, at the same time, kind of annoyed. What was he supposed to enjoy? It was suffocatingly hot, and there was nothing to do. He wished Lelouch had asked him to go swimming or something.
Suzaku gingerly took a bite out of the green pie, and it was delicious. Of course. Everything Lelouch made was delicious. After all, Lelouch probably followed the cookbooks unerringly, making sure all of his measurements were exact.
And that, Suzaku decided, was precisely the appeal of his mother's cooking. It was flawed, imperfect. She either added too much of one ingredient or not enough of another, and that was what made it more personal. Also, the image of her baking in the kitchen was an attractive one to say the least. Her breasts straining against an apron as she licked batter off her long, elegant fingers…
"Suzaku, is something wrong?"
Suzaku flushed and looked up. Lelouch was staring straight at him, eyes wide and concerned. He would probably murder him if he knew the kinds of thoughts he was having.
"Uh, no. I'm fine."
It was then that Suzaku noticed that Lelouch was holding as strawberry. It was ripe and red and mouth-watering, and it was just too easy to imagine Lelouch's mother holding it instead, her red luscious lips wrapped around that red luscious fruit, her violet eyes narrowed as she bit and sucked, juice running down her fair, flawless skin.
"…Suzaku?"
Without thinking, Suzaku grabbed the strawberry out of Lelouch's hand and ate it.
It started at night. It was always started out at night.
It was always in the same place, too. Not in the shower, but safe and sound in his bed after he had just said goodnight to his parents like the loving, dutiful son he was.
The lights were out, it was pitch black, and Suzaku was touching himself…
…while thinking about his best friend's mom.
For some reason, it was easier when he couldn't see anything, when everything was nigrescent and out of sight.
(Because, in the darkness, Suzaku could be blind to himself).
Suzaku started out slowly, teasingly stroking himself into half-hardness. Whenever he felt the need to moan or groan, he bit his lip hard until he could taste something metallic and bitter.
She appeared moments later.
Her black hair emerged from the inklike shadows, cascading down his bare chest. Her soft, full breasts pressed against his stomach. He gasped, and she laughed.
"Would you like some help, dear?" He could hear the smirk in her words.
Yes. Please.
Another laugh, and her soft hand replaced his big, calloused one. She teased the head, ran her index finger along the slit, and Suzaku bit down harder.
The metallic taste filled his mouth once again, and he vaguely wondered how much he was bleeding. Was it flowing down in rivulets? Down his chin, down his chest, down his legs, down his—
She kissed him on the mouth. "Don't be quiet, Suzaku," she whispered, pulling back, his blood shimmering on her lips. "I want to hear you."
I can't.
"Oh, but you can, dear." She pumped harder, and Suzaku was unable to stifle his gasp. Her other hand cupped his balls and squeezed gently.
More.
She squeezed harder, and he could feel her fingernails digging into his sac. It hurt, but it felt good. Oh so good.
Her face tilted up, her hair tickling his skin, and Suzaku shivered. He could feel an orgasm building, but she suddenly let go of his erection.
No. Please.
Her eyes narrowed into slices of violet as she placed her slick hand to her lips in a coquettish manner.
"What are the magic words?" she asked behind that magic hand.
Please. I don't know.
Slices tapered into slivers. "Oh, but you do know. You just aren't thinking."
I…I need you.
"You do." She broke into a smile. "You do need me."
She wrapped her hand around his cock once again, and it did not take long. After a few strokes, he came, fisting his comforter and groaning aloud.
Marianne!
When he recovered, she had already slunk back into the shadows, and it was not her hand wrapped around his cock but his own. Suzaku sighed and reached for a tissue on his nightstand only to find he had ran out.
A few days after Lelouch and Suzaku's picnic rendezvous, the Japanese boy arrived on Marianne's doorstep while her son was away.
This was unusual to say the least. As far as Marianne could remember, Suzaku never showed up unannounced; Lelouch was always at home expecting him.
But here he was, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and smelling of sweat and sunshine. It was amazing to think that only a few years ago he had been a short chubby-cheeked pre-teen. Now the baby fat was all but gone from his face, and he was taller with prominent muscles in his legs and arms. His eyes were still the same, though. Still big and so very green.
"Hello, Mrs. Lamperouge. Is Lelouch home?" Suzaku asked, his big, green eyes currently directed toward his tennis shoes.
"No," Marianne said with a shake of the head, "he went to take Nunnally out shopping. Did he forget to tell you?"
"I guess..." By the way he flinched as he said this, Marianne could tell he was lying, and this pleased her immensely.
"I'm sure he'll be back in a couple hours," she said, studying his guilt-stricken face. "You're more than welcome to stay until then."
Now for the moment of truth: would Suzaku take the bait or back down? Which would it be?
"Would that…be okay?"
Positively ensnared. "Of course, dear," Marianne said, her smile widening. "Have you already eaten?"
Suzaku shook his head.
"Then I'll make you some lunch. Come on in."
Suzaku followed her into the kitchen with his head still lowered and tentatively took a seat at the counter. Marianne took out a baguette and some roast beef.
"Lelouch tells me you've been playing soccer this summer," she lied (Genbu had told her) as began to cut up the bread.
"Yes, Mrs. Lamperouge," Suzaku said. "Club soccer."
She filled him up a tall glass of water. "How is that?"
"It's…fun. I like being outdoors."
When Marianne set out the drink and some sandwiches in front of Suzaku, he thanked her but did not touch his food. Marianne figured he was simply uncomfortable being alone with her, and she resolved to change that.
In the end, she practically exhausted the entire subject of soccer. Eventually, Suzaku began to open up, and it became clear that he was as enthusiastic about sports as Lelouch was about chess. What position do you play? ("Halfback, but sometimes forward.") What's the largest amount of points you've scored in a game? (Well, five one time…but I couldn't have done it without my teammates!") How is your coach? (He's really nice and helpful. I've learned a lot from him.") How has your team been doing? ("Really well. I feel like we work great together.") How often do you practice? (Twice everyday, and we have games on Saturdays and Sundays.")
Marianne smiled as the boy continued to babble about rivalries with other teams and games he had played. Although Suzaku adamantly denied it, it became increasingly clear that he was the star player on the team.
"Soccer seems to take up quite a bit of your time," Marianne said, interrupting Suzaku as he was explaining his training regimen. "Lelouch must get lonely without you."
"Lelouch comes to all of my practices and games, actually," Suzaku said with a smile. "I tell him he doesn't have to, but he insists."
Marianne had to stifle a giggle. This was just too rich. Honestly, how oblivious could one boy be? She decided to take the game one step further.
"My son seems very fond of you," Marianne said, leaning forward. "He has good taste."
Suzaku only smiled and nodded, seemingly unaware of the fact that he had just been complimented. "Lelouch is great," he said. "He's really helpful—especially when it comes to school. If it weren't for him, I'm pretty sure I would have failed a couple of my classes."
Marianne nodded. These were things she already knew, but there was something else on her mind. "Tell me, Suzaku," she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Does Lelouch have a girlfriend?"
Suzaku's eyes widened. "…Excuse me?"
"Lelouch is so secretive. You must know that," Marianne said, a pout forming on her lips. "He's my own son, but he never tells me a thing." The pout deepened; she batted her eyelashes. "I thought you might know as his friend."
"Oh." Suzaku's genial smile returned. "He doesn't have one that I know of, Mrs. Lamperouge."
"Does he have trouble talking to girls?"
Suzaku seemed amused by this question. "Not at all," he said, shaking his head. "Lots of girls ask him out, but he always turns them down."
Figured. Marianne smirked and leaned in even closer. "What about you, Suzaku?" she asked.
"…What?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Suzaku blushed, and it somehow made him appear much, much younger. "Oh. Um. N-no."
Marianne cocked her head to the side. "Why not? You're an attractive boy."
Suzaku's blush darkened, and he averted her gaze. "Um, my dad…" He trailed off and cleared his throat before trying again. "My dad says I shouldn't be in a relationship because it would…distract me from my studies."
Oh, such an obedient son. Marianne leaned in closer so their faces were only inches apart. Suzaku looked up, eyes wide.
"Your father is right," Marianne said slowly, eyes narrowed. "Girls are only trouble."
Their eyes were locked, and it was completely silent. Suzaku gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Marianne watched with amusement, as his face became redder and redder. Perhaps if she leaned closer she could—
A car rolling up the driveway broke the silence.
Sighing, Marianne picked up Suzaku's (mostly uneaten) dish and pulled back to carry it over to the sink.
"That should be Lelouch," she said.
"Oh," Suzaku replied.
Not "Oh, good" or "Okay." Just "Oh." Marianne smiled as she began to wash the dish. There was just enough time to squeeze in one last attack so she said, "I truly appreciate you coming over, Suzaku. Keeping an old hag like myself company."
"You're not an old hag! You're beautiful!"
That was a surprise. Marianne turned around to see that Suzaku was blushing again, his hands clapped over his mouth. She opened her mouth for one last foray, one final strike…
The door opened and closed. "Suzaku, what are you doing here?"
Marianne turned back around to resume her cleaning. They could pick up this little game some other time.
Marianne always slept alone.
Even when he husband was right beside her, she still slept alone. He took up most of the bed, but she was all by herself. She could not remember the last time he touched her.
She tried everything. The night he would return from a business trip she would melt into his arms, lips red and cheeks rouged, but it was always the same answer:
"Not tonight, Marianne."
"Not tonight, Marianne" translated to "Not any night, Marianne."
She would parade around in expensive lingerie and croon that she would do all the work. He wouldn't have to lift a finger. All he had to do was lay there and let her move for them.
But no. He was too tired, apparently. He needed to get some shuteye before he left…again.
The worst part was that he didn't even want to be near her, either. He slept completely on the other side of the bed, and whenever she reached out to caress or embrace him, he would grumble for her to stop and go back to sleep.
Marianne's mother had warned her against marrying a man nearly twenty years her senior. "Yes," she had said, "he may be settled, but there comes a time when a man, well, doesn't react the same way he did when he was younger." Marianne hadn't thought much of that advice at the time, but now—eighteen years later—she could see where her mother was coming from.
Her husband was, as far as she could tell, impotent. Also, he had no apparent interest in sex and was never at home. This was a god-awful combination. She no longer had a husband. No, instead she had a man who sent her money from time to time so she could live a practically separate life from him.
Unfortunately, divorce was out of the question. If he left her, she would no longer be able to sustain herself or Lelouch and Nunnally for that matter. She had married when she only twenty, back when she was wide-eyed and naïve. She had no useful skills or job experience to speak of, and that made her completely and utterly dependent on him.
Still, she ached to be touched, ached to be held, and her husband would never be able to provide that anymore. That was how she was able to justify it.
That was how she was able to justify thrusting her fingers into herself as she thought about Suzaku Kururugi, her son's closest friend.
It wasn't like Marianne was in love with the boy. No, that certainly wasn't it. There was no denying that he had some positive attributes. He was kind, athletic, and he had a nice smile, but, in the end, he wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't particularly intelligent (her son could attest to that), and he wasn't incredibly attractive, either (he was cute, but there were handsomer men). But, ultimately, all of these characteristics were overshadowed by the one all-consuming fact that he obviously wanted her, desired her, and that turned her on.
While Marianne ached for someone, Suzaku ached for her specifically. She knew he had indecent thoughts about her, and this only served to delight her further. Did he touch himself at night with her name on his lips? Did he ever wish she was in her son's place?
Marianne rubbed her clit harder and pressed her mouth to her pillow to muffle her moans. She spread her legs father apart so they stretched across her big, empty bed. What would it be like? Would Suzaku blush and blunder? Would he say, "A-are you sure we should be doing this, Mrs. Lamperouge?" Oh, it's fine, dear. Three fingers inside of herself. She moaned a little too loudly, and she vaguely wondered if her children would wake up. It's really fine.
Suzaku would be awkward and clumsy, but that didn't matter. The most important thing was that he would revere her body like her husband never did. He would worship her from her head to the tips of her toes.
Marianne's back arched off the bed as she came, fingers inside herself as she groaned out the name of a sixteen-year-old boy. Now that she thought about it, Lelouch was probably awake and listening. He always had been a light sleeper. She giggled into her pillow at the thought. Like mother like son, right?
She had some plans for Lelouch this summer.
"Chess camp?"
Lelouch looked positively furious, his eyebrows furrowed and his hands clenched at his sides. Marianne maintained her gentle, maternal smile.
"Consider it an opportunity to meet people with the same interest as you."
"You can't be serious," Lelouch hissed, eyes narrowing. "Why he hell would you sign me up for this?"
"It was your father who suggested it," Marianne said. A complete and utter lie. She doubted her husband even knew that Lelouch liked chess, but he was the perfect scapegoat. "He told me it would be good for you."
Lelouch folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips, attempting to maintain composure. "Tell him I'm busy," he said. "There are other things I want to do."
"Like gambling?"
It was entertaining to see how precarious Lelouch's control really was, how easily it shattered. His eyes widened, and his body went completely rigid.
"How…how do you know about that?" he managed to grind out.
Marianne cocked her head to the side, studying her son. He was finally beginning to realize how much she really knew, that he hadn't actually been fooling her all along. "I have my sources," she said. "And don't you think it would be better to put your talents to good use rather than waste them?"
"I won't go."
Marianne blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said," Lelouch snapped. "I won't go. I sincerely doubt you're physically capable of forcing me to go to that damn camp." A smirk was beginning to form on his lips. "All you can do is ground me, and then I'll have to stay at home when your real objective is to get rid of me."
Marianne's smile did not falter. "Lelouch," she said, warmly, gently, "I don't want to get rid of you. I just don't think you should spend all your time gambling. I doubt Suzaku's parents would be very happy if they knew what the two of you were up to."
Lelouch's eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "…What does Suzaku have to do with any of this?"
"Suzaku has been playing soccer over the summer, and your sister is going to an archery camp with that nice girl, Anya Alstreim, who lives on the corner. I don't understand why you're so opposed to doing something you enjoy." Her smile widened. "Besides, it's not a stay away camp, so you'll be able to see your friends in the evenings."
It hit Lelouch like a ton of bricks. "You're…you're going to tell Suzaku's parents if I don't go." He was trembling now, his voice octaves higher. "That's blackmail! You can't do that!"
Marianne sighed. He really was grasping at straws now. "Don't be ridiculous, dear. I'm not blackmailing anyone, and I truly am looking out for you." She reached out to cup Lelouch's cheek, but he recoiled from the touch. "I really do want what's best for you."
For once, Lelouch was at a loss for words. He looked like someone had slapped him across the face, and Marianne couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity. He was powerless, and what could he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
As expected, Suzaku showed up on her doorstep a few days later. His hair looked rumpled and wet, and Marianne wondered if he has showered after soccer practice before coming here.
"Hello, Suzaku," she said as she answered the door. "Are you looking for Lelouch?"
Suzaku nodded. Unlike last time, he was looking up at her.
"He's not here I'm afraid. He has started going to chess camp during the day. Did he forget to mention that to you?"
Suzaku nodded and flinched. Lies, lies, beautiful lies.
"Well, he is," Marianne said with a smile. "He wasn't too happy about going, unfortunately, but he has such talent. Do you think talent like that should be wasted?"
"N-no, Mrs. Lamperouge." He rocked back and forth on his heels.
"I don't either." It was silence for a moment, and Suzaku continued to rock back and forth. Marianne rubbed her hands against her sundress. "Well, Suzaku," she said pleasantly, "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me. There's some yard work I need to get done today."
"I could help!"
As soon as Suzaku blurted this out, a blush began to spread to his cheeks. He really didn't think before he spoke, did he? That was one of his perks, Marianne supposed. It would make things quite a bit easier for her.
"Well, uh, it's just that I'm…" Marianne continued to smile. Yes, Suzaku. Spit it out already. "I'm…kind of good with my hands, so I could help out…I mean, only if you wanted help."
"I would love some help, Suzaku"
Too easy.
In the end, Suzaku actually did end up being fairly helpful. With her husband never around, there were certain tasks that were difficult for Marianne, and the boy was able to perform them with ease.
They worked for hours on end, and Suzaku did not seem to tire out. He trimmed the trees that were too high for Marianne to reach. He mowed the lawn. He pulled out weeds. And he did all these things with his boyish, cheery, dopey smile.
In a way, it was endearing to watch him. Marianne knew that if she ever made Lelouch perform manual labor, he would probably whine and complain, but Suzaku seemed to be in his element.
Perhaps it was because he was more of a physical person. And, as Marianne watched the muscles ripple underneath his shirt as he worked, she thought perhaps that she had underestimated him. Maybe he was more of a man than she gave him credit for. Underneath all that seeming innocence and guilelessness, he could be housing secret animalistic desires.
When evening (and inevitably Lelouch) began to approach, Marianne stopped Suzaku and handed him a glass of water and a fifty-dollar bill.
"For your efforts," Marianne said as Suzaku opened his mouth to protest. "You were a great help."
Suzaku shook his head. "Mrs. Lamperouge," he said, tone surprisingly firm, "I'm sorry, but…I can't accept this." He handed the money back to Marianne, and she cocked her head to the side.
"You were out here for over five hours, Suzaku. It isn't an inordinate amount."
Suzaku remained adamant. "It wasn't work for me." He bit his lip, and turned his face to the side. "I…I enjoyed doing this, Mrs. Lamperouge."
Translation: I enjoyed doing this with you, Mrs. Lamperouge. Marianne smirked, and placed her hand on top of Suzaku's messy mop of hair, delighting in the way his green eyes seemed to protrude from his face.
"You're a sweet boy, Suzaku," she murmured, running her fingers through the tangle of curls. "And please call me Marianne."
She pressed a kiss to his sweaty, dirty cheek, and nearly burst out laughing when she pulled back. A lipstick stain was now visible on his tan cheek, cherry-red juxtaposed against a sun-baked brown. In a way, it was almost symbolic. She wished it would remain there forever. But…
"You should wash up," Marianne said. "Lelouch is going to be here soon."
Suzaku nodded dazedly, green eyes so very wide. "Yes, Mrs. Lamperouge—I mean, Marianne."
The next day they planted flowers—violets, specifically. Marianne wore a white t-shirt and Capri pants while Suzaku wore a t-shirt and shorts again that gave her a nice view of his lean muscles when he flexed and stretched.
It did not take very long. Suzaku was a fast worker, and covered all the seeds with soil in no time. Afterward, Marianne said she was parched, and that she would fix the both of them some lemonade. Unsurprisingly, Suzaku followed her inside the house and into the kitchen like a loyal puppy.
"Oh," Marianne said, glancing down at her now dirty t-shirt, "it wasn't very smart of me to wear white. I'll have to throw this in the wash." And then she unceremoniously removed her shirt and placed it on the counter.
The room seemed to hold its breath. Marianne could feel Suzaku's eyes on her as she pulled some lemons out of a basket, but she had to restrain herself from looking back.
"Suzaku," she called out, "would you mind helping me squeeze the lemons?"
"Um…I'm sorry, but I…can't."
A smirk crawled up her lips. "Why not?" She inspected the lemons. They were nice and ripe. It was sort of disappointing that they wouldn't actually be having any lemonade. "Is something the matter?"
"No…it's just...I can't."
Marianne finally turned around, a look of motherly concern plastered on her face. Suzaku was sitting at the counter, face ablaze and eyes frantic. Marianne knew what the problem was, but she continued to feign ignorance. This was just too much fun, after all.
"Are you feeling ill?" she asked, taking a few steps forward. "Would you like me to take your temperature?" She reached out to place a hand on his forehead, but he shrunk back from the touch.
Suzaku shook his head. "N-no, I'm fine," he spluttered.
"You don't look fine to me," Marianne said, inching closer, watching as his eyes wandered everywhere except her chest.
The counter was really Suzaku's only safeguard, his only defense. As soon as Marianne walked around it, she would see, and the game would be up. A part of her wanted to see how long she could drag this out for (would Suzaku ultimately implode right in front of her?), but even she was beginning to become apprehensive and, the more she stalled, the less time she had.
(And, really, time was of the essence when all she had was one measly summer).
So, Marianne walked around to see what was the matter with the poor Kururugi boy. Was he sick? Did he have allergies? Either way, she would help him out as best she could because she truly had the most innocuous of intentions.
And she let in a sharp intake of breath when she saw the prominent bulge straining against the boy's shorts.
"I'm sorry!"
Marianne nearly broke her façade; she had to hold back peals of laughter. Suzaku sounded like a guilty tot who had just spilt his milk—not a teenage boy with a hard-on.
But she managed not to break her mask. She stood speechless for a few moments, giving the impression that she was shocked.
Then, "Suzaku, are you ashamed?"
His head was ducked down. "Yes," he murmured.
"Are you attracted to me?"
There was a moment of hesitation, but even he knew how futile it was to deny it anymore. "…Yes."
Marianne smirked as she laid a hand on Suzaku's cheek. He didn't recoil from the touch unlike her ungrateful son. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" she asked, voice tender and soothing.
"…What?" Those green eyes were rather pretty when they were wide and horrified.
"Because I think of you," Marianne murmured, fingers rubbing gentle circles on his skin. "When Lelouch and Nunnally are fast asleep, I touch myself and think of you." He looked like a deer in headlights, and this only goaded her on. Marianne leaned in close, so she could smell the dried sweat and the warmth of his breath and whispered, "You make me so very wet, Suzaku.
When she pressed her lips to his, he didn't pull back. For a few moments, he was frozen as if in a trance, but then he kissed back. Tentatively, of course. He was probably testing to see that he wasn't dreaming.
But then he eventually stood up and wrapped his arms (cautiously) around her and (carefully) deepened the kiss. It had been so long since Marianne had kissed anyone—really kissed anyone. She would always receive a peck on the lips from her husband after he came home from a business trip, but that wasn't the same. This was deeper, more intimate, and practically intoxicating. Also, Suzaku knew what he was doing, which was a pleasant surprise. It seemed he had been with girls before, after all.
When Suzaku pulled back, Marianne was pleased to see that he was affected as well. His eyes were glazed, and his cheeks were dusted pink. "Is that okay?" he asked, voice husky.
Not "Do you really think we should be doing this?" or "What if someone finds out?" The boy really didn't use his head, and that was what made him—
"Perfect," Marianne said with a smile.
And then he was kissing her again—more confidently this time, his hands roaming her bare back, and his erection pressed against her. She placed one of his hands on her breast, and he squeezed gently. Well then. It seemed Suzaku Kururugi wasn't as innocent as she had originally assumed.
Her hands crept underneath his t-shirt, and she could feel his lean muscles underneath her fingertips. He was still so young. All long limbs and smooth skin. There was no hair on his chest, no stubble on his cheeks. Marianne wound her fingers through his hair and began to back out of the kitchen.
Suzaku allowed her to lead, eyes closed and seemingly enraptured with sensation. When they came to a halt, his eyes finally opened, and a look of recognition passed over his face.
"Wait," he said, pulling back. "Isn't this Lelouch's roo—"
"Shush," Marianne said, placing her lips firmly against his as she unsnapped her bra. It fell on top of a Calculus textbook, and suddenly Suzaku did not seem all too concerned by the current setting.
Eyes glued to her chest, he reached out to touch her, but Marianne pulled back and flopped down on her son's bed. He had made it this morning. The comforter was pulled up, and the pillows were fluffed. Marianne smirked, wondering if Lelouch would be able to spot a creased sheet or two.
Suzaku watched as Marianne undid her pants and slid out of her panties. He watched as she threw them off the bed (they hit a chessboard, knocking over a king). He watched as she beckoned for him.
"Come over here, dear," she said, reclining back. "You're so far away."
Suzaku swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He seemed unsure of himself, uncertain.
And that's when Marianne came to a realization: he was still a virgin. Everything before had been false bravado, nothing but adolescent antics. All he knew were the schoolyard games of kissing and clothed touches. Now he was in the unknown, and it frightened him…
…but it delighted Marianne.
When he finally mustered the courage to crawl onto the bed, he blushed and fumbled in the process of removing his shirt and shorts. He stalled in the event of removing his underwear, and, while that was somewhat amusing in a parody of an ingénue sort of way, Marianne was impatient. She ended up pulling his boxers off for him, revealing his hard and leaking cock. It looked almost painful, but that did not matter. His pleasure was secondary.
Marianne reclined back onto the pillows, smiling at the erection bobbing between the boy's thighs and said, "Suzaku, do you know how to give oral sex?"
Suzaku shook his head, eyes trained downward.
Marianne smiled. It seemed she would get to teach him an invaluable lesson.
"Then I'll give you a demonstration," she said. "Pay close attention."
Oh, Suzaku paid attention all right. He observed like a star pupil as she spread the folds of skin and rubbed her clit. He studied the way she ran her hand along her breasts and moaned with abandon. He didn't take his eyes off of her as she thrust into herself, eyes locked with his.
When she finally pulled out of herself, she rubbed her wet fingers against Suzaku's cheek, and he shivered slightly.
"Now," Marianne said, "use your mouth."
And Suzaku did. He placed a hand on both of her thighs, ducked down, and began to lick. The movements were inexperienced and inept, but the fact that someone was finally, finally touching her there caused her to arch her back and gasp aloud.
She petted the boy on the head idly like one would a dog. Now that she thought about it, he shared many valued traits with a canine. He was obedient…
"Ah!"
Suzaku began to suck instead of lick, and Marianne nearly banged her head on the headboard.
…and eager to please.
His tongue entered her, and it was so wonderfully invasive that she came, clutching the boy's full head of hair and not caring if it hurt him. As her orgasm crested over her, Marianne took in the tidiness and cleanliness of her son's room, and she might have laughed if she weren't so far gone.
When Suzaku rose up, he was still hard, and Marianne decided she would allow him some release. She wasn't so cruel.
"Open that drawer," Marianne said, pointing beside her, still a little breathless.
Suzaku nodded and pulled out a pack of condoms. Lelouch's condoms. Not that he would ever need them, anyway.
It was funny watching him put one on. Since he had never used one before, he was probably trying to rake his brain about some health class demonstration involving a banana. But, eventually, Suzaku got the rubber on himself and crawled over Marianne.
"Can I…?"
"Yes."
It was a little painful at first, but that did not matter. It did not matter that Suzaku's thrusts were uncoordinated and sloppy. It did not matter that he did not last very long and came without warning. It did not matter that she did not orgasm again and that he looked completely mortified when he finally regained control of his senses.
(It did not matter because he had gasped out her name).
But Marianne concealed her satisfaction. "Pull out," she said.
Suzaku did; she pulled off the condom, tied it off, and placed it in Lelouch's wastebasket. For a split second, she considered just leaving it there for her son to find. That would be an interesting surprise.
"…What if someone finds out?"
Marianne turned toward the boy. His green eyes were wide and unseeing; the implications of what he had just done were finally beginning to sink in.
Marianne merely smiled. "Don't worry, dear," she said, running her hand through his messy, rumpled hair. "This will be our little secret."
AN: Thanks for reading! Feedback of any type is appreciated! :)