Author Note: I started this a long time ago, and only just mustered the enthusiasm to finish. You see, it all started when my Lelouch and I (anja-chan here on FFN) decided that we would cosplay Emperor Lelouch and Knight of Zero Suzaku together. Needless to say, those are a couple of complicated costumes… especially for someone like me, who only recently discovered something as simple as interfacing. (Can you say LOTS OF INTERFACING and God knows what else, for those outfits?!) Therefore, this humorous angst (huhwha?) came out when I first began to consider Suzaku and Lelouch's costumes, and wondered how in hell they were actually supposed to be plausible for those two to wear in the series. Especially Suzaku's. Stupid CLAMP.

Forgive me for the crack and the character-slaughter. I'm not classing this one as a Spiel, because I can't take it seriously. But we all need something more light-hearted to read sometimes, as my Nunnally made me realise. Have at it, yo.


Lelouch was talking about clothes again.

"I think I need some jewels to hang right here." He gestured to his pelvic region, and Suzaku — after blinking away a moment in which he grew desperately worried for Lelouch's manhood — mourned the difficulty of his situation. "Jewels hanging off the belt," Lelouch specified, better late than never. Suzaku's eyes, however, had been drawn to the space between Lelouch's legs, and there they stayed for longer than he meant them to. He looked away and flushed.

"What's the matter, Suzaku?"

"Nothing. I was considering it."

Lelouch spared him a minimal glance, and then continued his speech about their future appearance. They had already taken over the throne, but perhaps to debut in their Ashford uniforms had been hasty, Lelouch admitted. He wanted to look… not like a student now, but like royalty — no, even better than royalty. Suzaku wasn't sure he followed. Something about a more luxurious fabric theme, and an image of power absolute. Right now Lelouch was wearing the final prototype, but Suzaku hadn't taken much interest.

Until a moment ago, that was.

He gave Lelouch's outfit another perusal from where he stood guarding the door. At first glance, Suzaku had found nothing to linger over, but perhaps that had been because he hadn't really looked. Now Suzaku was looking, and the more Lelouch moved — pacing regally around the chamber, his arms gliding aloft as he spoke — the more Suzaku grew to like what he was seeing. Pieces of the outfit glinted in the light. The winding lines of detail in front and in back accented the flow of his walk.

Ah, and what's this? Lelouch was adding on another piece of finery.

"This is the cloak," the Britannian said by way of explanation, as he drew it over himself. The material rippled.

The cloak fell over Lelouch's shoulders and draped down his chest, hanging splendidly against his frame. Suzaku felt his body weaken, and he forgot he was supposed to be guarding the door. The completed ensemble made him look fantastic.

"That's the full outfit?" Suzaku asked, for lack of anything more potent to say.

"Yes," Lelouch replied. "I thought of adding even more, but then decided to wear this." Suzaku didn't answer, and Lelouch monitored his face. "Only this."

…Did that mean he wore nothing whatsoever underneath? Suzaku cleared his throat and did his best to appear as if the statement made sense in more contexts than the one he had chosen for it.

Lelouch frowned, seeming to realize that Suzaku had gotten lost. He paused a moment longer and then said, "If I wore too much cumbersome clothing, I might not be able to maneuver well. I can't get anyone to submit to me if I can barely move, can I?" He placed one hand on his hip.

"Maybe. I-mean-no! No, of course not," Suzaku hurried to agree. But it was too late, now — far too late. Suzaku needed a pail, to catch the bodily fluids that threatened to leak from all orifices at the expansion of his impure thoughts — fluids like his drool, and the sweat that broke over him as heat coalesced in all the right places, and possibly Suzaku was growing moist at his—

"Suzaku."

A snap to attention. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said in his crispest English. His muscles tightened, for Lelouch's tone indicated for certain now that he'd noted Suzaku's distraction.

"I require a lucid opinion about this ensemble."

But you're suddenly twice as attractive, Suzaku wanted to blurt. It wasn't his fault that Lelouch had donned all that white, luscious silk. It rippled like a wedding gown, but somehow still managed to make him seem masculine and appealing. Suzaku tried for a steady inhale, and Lelouch stood there waiting coolly, his eyes like purple poppies. Narcotic and stimulating, poison hidden behind petals. Suzaku would not have minded being drugged by him.

He did his best to maintain dignity when at last he offered Lelouch an opinion. "You look… religious," he said.

Lelouch stared.

Suzaku hadn't been able to help it, really. White and gold on someone as regal as Lelouch was like angels with harps. And after all, Lelouch had draped the ensemble over himself like some priestly flowing habit — an allusion to the choirs at the Gates of Heaven, Suzaku thought foggily, because Lelouch was going to—? Suzaku's stomach lurched. Lelouch was going to bring death upon a lot more people while he wore that outfit. And the hat? Only popes and bishops wore fancy hats. Yes, Lelouch looked like he belonged in a church. An opulent church. Perhaps a cathedral.

Lelouch was still staring at him.

…Or Suzaku could just try again.

"The belt calls attention to your waist, and you carry the long flowing fabric like you mean it. I think it looks fabulous."

There was another pause in which Suzaku had no choice but to accept his inner flamboyancy. Lelouch cast him a look that said, Are you going to sign up for Fashion & Design at Ashford next? Usurp Kanon Maldini and pick out Schneizel's next great wardrobe?

"So what you really mean," Lelouch mused, bringing a hand to his chin and turning away in elegant consideration, "Is that it looks gay."

Suzaku nearly lost his feet from beneath him as he abandoned his post to pursue Lelouch across the chamber. "I didn't— what?" Don't trip. Don't trip. Lelouch used the word 'gay.' Stranger things had been known to happen. "I didn't say that!" He'd broken into a real sweat now, and his brow tingled from his creasing it too hard. Lelouch. His outfit, gay? He— he didn't want Lelouch to think that Suzaku had accused him of—

"Suzaku," Lelouch said, stopping to face him, "does this make you uncomfortable?"

"Wha—? Well, I…. Er, does what?" Suzaku didn't know what "this" was. He had no idea what Lelouch was trying to communicate any longer, because the notions of gay and Lelouch had combined to form a titillated kind of Ohh that resonated from his chest and downward. Suzaku wasn't ready to be intelligent just yet. He halted as well and looked at Lelouch. "Um, could you please repeat that?"

Lelouch did his haughty, impatient sigh-thing. "I'm asking if the look of my outfit makes you uncomfortable. If it does, I suspect you'll have a problem with your own once it's completed. We all need to match to a certain degree."

Suzaku blinked. He didn't think he would look good in an outfit that was anything akin to Lelouch's. Suzaku was rougher, more rigid, less conscious of his outward appearance. He couldn't carry those exquisite golden swirls and dips the way Lelouch could.

…But Lelouch looked good in it. Twinkling buttons formed a line from his wrist to the crook of his elbow, calling attention to the delicacy of his physique, and to his fluidity, while the white made his skin show more creamy and oh, god, Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia — Suzaku wanted him now, now, now.

Bodily fluids.

Lelouch was saying something else already, about materials and cost, and Suzaku swallowed. Look away, look away, not at his lithe, supple waist, not at those narrow hips, or at the sumptuous jewels lining his body…. Suzaku wanted to stroke his fingers down the pattern on Lelouch's chest in front, draw nearer and trail lips along the golden path lit by the edging on Lelouch's coll—

"It occurs to me that your mind is one-track."

Oh. That look. It was fearful.

Had Suzaku been caught, then?

"I can't help it, Lelouch." It was the first time Suzaku had addressed Lelouch by name since he'd gone on duty as Knight of Zero, and it was practically a moan.

But he couldn't moan, because Lelouch would never accept that, and so Suzaku only cleared his throat, and decided he would have to imagine everything he wanted to make reality. Turn the conference chamber they occupied into a luxurious sleeping quarters. Make Lelouch take off that hat. Yes, a good daydream, that. Or better yet, draw nearer and remove Lelouch's hat himself, and then slowly rid Lelouch of everything else that hindered the sweet meshing of their bodies.

…But probably not before experiencing the full sensation of that fabric. He even wanted to touch the jewels.

"Suzaku."

Suzaku shot him a glare full of frustration. "If you don't want me to lose control during an important discussion, your majesty, you shouldn't parade around in front of me looking tempting." He cringed immediately after saying it. Surely, surely if he were not already Lelouch vi Britannia's last resort, he would have been dismissed from service permanently for such commentary.

Lelouch's eyes widened ever so slightly before returning back to their usual, disenchanted gaze. Suzaku waited.

And waited.

And then he realized that Lelouch's gaze had gone down the other end of the reactional spectrum, not to fury, but to a well-controlled smolder that was sophisticated and darkly flippant. Suzaku froze in position, for he had never witnessed such an expression on Lelouch's face, neither in their recent time together nor in their childhood years long before. It promised action, suspense, punishment, thrill, and… satisfaction? The emperor, in his strangely Lancelot-like colors, picked up his feet and drew nearer, in a manner that Suzaku might have considered ominous if only he'd had his head on straight.

Suzaku didn't dare speak, but his body reacted. He wanted to make a noise again, but he let loose only on the inside, watching that perilous, bejeweled wraith float closer like a ghost draped in burial treasure. Now extending a hand to him.

Lelouch touched him — flutter of fingers at his cheek, thumb pressing lightly against his lower lip. "Are you really so distracted, Suzaku?"

What? Lelouch was…?

"I-I—"

"Perhaps I ought to alleviate your restlessness before we continue?"

"Lelou—" Lelouch shushed him with a whisper and leaned forward to speak beside the shell of his ear. Suzaku stiffened. What could Lelouch possibly want to say to him? A-alleviate… his…?

"Listen carefully, Suzaku." The command was a caress.

Suzaku listened, barely breathing.

"…Thigh-highs."

The Knight of Zero faltered. "I… what?"

Lelouch drew away, the smirk that graced his lips by far the most frightening thing Suzaku had witnessed that day. The emperor specified. "Your outfit… involves a pair of thigh-highs."

Suzaku stood still for a moment. Then he imagined the sleeping quarters again. Lelouch in a golden-white shroud of seduction. Himself in a pair of boots that stretched… high over his… knees?

Wait, really? But with boots like that, how was he supposed to freely…?

No, no — does not compute.

"Lelouch, such a thing isn't possible!" Lelouch only chuckled, while Suzaku brought a hand to his wavy hair and knotted his fingers there.

Lelouch couldn't be serious. How would Suzaku bend his legs in them? Never mind seduction — how was he to defend Lelouch in boots like that if Emperor and Knight got caught in a battle? How would he get them off efficiently without… ah, get them off… mmffgh — a-ah, the boots, that was, get the boots off — without making a fool of himself? Without looking ungainly when he was trying to be sexy— er, or deadly? Why thigh-highs?! Suzaku couldn't think. Suddenly, he mourned the loss of the simplicity and straightforwardness he had created in his one-track mind before his own costume had been part of the equation.

"This is unfair, your majesty."

Still with that thin smirk. "Then next time, I would advise you not to lose your concentration. I was talking about how to design C.C.'s dress to match the two of us."

Suzaku opened his mouth to ask what else his outfit would consist of, because he had a nagging fear that thigh-highs would not be the worst of it, but the emperor of Britannia began to soap-box once again.

"Fashion when the world is watching," Lelouch said with a flick of his robes, "is a serious matter."


A/N: Dear Lelouch You're an asshole. Eff your ridiculous hat.