An unrated version of this story is on my AO3 account (NeoDiji) and linked on my Tumblr (NeoDiji).
Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass. The only profit I make from this fanfiction is the joy of writing and sharing my headcanons.
Welcome to Something Worth Blackmailing, a SuzaLulu relationship development epic endeavor.
I wrote this as an intended prequel to my other fic, Blackmail Gone Wrong, but it could stand alone as well. THIS fic has all the good things. There might be a few minor warnings for some chapters, but nothing majorly triggering like the sequel to this.
Originally, the first four chapters of this (about 35,000 words) were posted in one humongous flashback chapter on FFnet a few years back. That chapter was entitled Two Boys and Their Love and, yeah, that pretty much sums it up. I broke that long chapter up here for easier reading installments, and then I, you know, finished the story.
I do change several canon elements for my own purposes. For instance, I streeeeetch out the timeline to let their relationship develop more naturally over time. I change some details (they have history first period, not math as Nina reveals in R1Ep17; I changed the history teacher from that guy Lelouch Geassed about test questions when he determined he could only use his Geass once per person; I changed some dialogue and kept other dialogue from canon scenes - both real episodes and sound episodes - and just other things here and there). I'm just putting this disclaimer that not everything will be the same as canon, and if it's changed, I probably have a reason for it. But always feel free to comment or ask about something not lining up!
I think wayyyy too much about this series. Blackmail is very near and dear to my heart and I'm so excited to share this with you! (I can totally play favorites with my own work.)
Thanks to my lovely beta-reader, TheGeminiSage, for looking over this whale of a tale. She is love. Go read her Undertale comic, Refuse. :D
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Something Worth Blackmailing
Alternatively: Two Boys and Their Love
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Chapter One: Seeds and Sparks
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Suzaku had to work hard to keep from hyperventilating. He was alone with Lelouch.
"Is there something wrong?" Lelouch asked, his voice perfectly normal—and perfectly alluring. Violet eyes surveyed the brunet soldier carefully, dissecting his discomfort. Suzaku had his eyes squeezed shut, and he was trembling to boot; Lelouch, in contrast, displayed no outward signs that the gnawing tension in the air was getting to him in the least. He was seated upright, poised with an elegant grace befitting his birthright, and he was delicately chewing on a forkful of perfectly seasoned chicken. His breathing was even, unlike Suzaku's own, and his movements were slow and calculated, as if chancing upon a long-lost-friend-assumed-dead was a perfectly normal occurrence. Taking another look at the Japanese boy, the Britannian prince prompted, "You stopped eating."
Suzaku lowered his gaze to his half-empty dinner plate, his heart pounding wildly in his ribcage. The intensity in Lelouch's eyes… A heavy knot formed in his stomach. He had to swallow once before he managed to utter, "I'm just full."
Lelouch scrutinized him a moment longer before saying simply, "I see."
Suzaku really hoped the other boy was too far away to see the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. "It was really delicious!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, trying to cover his tracks. He didn't want to offend the other, after all. "Much better than the cooking I'm used to," he added, thinking of Miss Cecile's disastrous attempts of the recent past. (It hadn't taken him but one, maybe two meals to figure out that her kitchen efforts amounted to near-food-poisoning.) He fidgeted in his seat.
"Thank you," the prince said graciously. "That means a lot coming from you, Suzaku." Purple eyes twinkled mischievously across the dinner table. But for Suzaku's spastic nervousness, it was almost like the seven-year separation had never existed.
At Lelouch's heartfelt words, the Japanese boy's jaw dropped and surprise crossed his face. The way the fancy chandelier light fell on Lelouch's frame highlighted his stark features, and the knot in Suzaku's stomach twisted further. He realized his mouth was still open and, not knowing what to say, hurriedly shoved an oversized bite of chicken in there so he wouldn't have to say anything at all. His teeth worked furiously to chew, and the task was made much harder by the sudden dryness of his mouth.
Violet eyes regarded him thoughtfully. "You know, Suzaku, you don't have to force yourself to finish. If you're full, it's fine. It just means we have leftovers." Lelouch stood from his chair and reached across the tabletop for the soldier's plate. "Let me wrap this up for you. It will save nicely until tomorrow." His fingertips lightly brushed the back of Suzaku's hand as they sought the ceramic.
The fork slipped neatly out of Suzaku's fingers. "Wh-what?" he asked, his voice a bit shaky. He wants me to come back?! A bit of half-chewed chicken mush fell from his mouth and stained the tablecloth. Green eyes widened and a tan hand quickly shot out to grab a napkin. Along the way, he knocked over his cup of tea; the brown liquid seeped through the fabric to the wood table below. His nerves on high-alert, his tremors increasing, Suzaku mumbled under his breath, "Oh god…"
Lelouch pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. A wary sigh escaped his lips. Then, seeming to get over the mess, he smiled brilliantly—genuinely—and reassured his guest, "Don't worry about it. I'll clean that up. Why don't you go relax in the other room and I'll join you in a minute?"
"No, I couldn't," Suzaku protested, abruptly standing up. He swayed on his feet and grasped the edge of the table for balance.
"You've had a long, exciting day," the raven-haired boy murmured gently. Turning his head to the side, avoiding looking the brown-haired boy in the eye, he said, "Go relax, Suzaku."
The Japanese quickly shook his head. "No! Not while you—"
Lelouch snorted and turned his head, this time initiating eye-contact. "I don't believe that was a request."
Slowly, Suzaku nodded, cowed in the princely boy's presence. He backed up a pace and, since his fingertips were still firmly grasping the tablecloth, he unconsciously ended up tugging the cloth—as well as all the food and dishes atop it—halfway off the table. Suzaku froze; a squeaked "um" escaped his lips. At the corner edge of the table, a teetering vegetable dish clattered to the floor, and its contents spilled everywhere.
Lelouch eyed the rolling corn with distaste, but then he brightened. "At least the rest of your chicken will save," he said again. "But since the rest of it is unsalvageable now, what kind of side dish would you like for tomorrow's dinner?" He chuckled and moved to tug the tablecloth back into place; at the slight pressure, Suzaku let go of his hold on the fabric and let Lelouch fix the situation as he was best at doing.
Bowing his head, the Japanese asked in a trembling voice, "Why?"
The prince amusedly shook his head and chuckled, "Because I'm taking requests." Purple eyes narrowed playfully. "Better take advantage of it this time, Suzaku. I don't ask for other people's opinions very often."
"No," Suzaku insisted, raising his head. "I mean—why me?" He shivered. "Why are you doing all this? Talking to me, having dinner with me…"
A hard look entered Lelouch's eyes. "Why wouldn't I?" he countered, not moving to pick up any more plates. "We're friends, aren't we?" His eyes narrowed further. "Or are you saying that the past seven years changed that?"
Hurriedly shaking his head, Suzaku all but yelped, "No!" Taking deep breaths, he explained, "It's just that…being around you after so long…and I'm an Honorary Britannian, an Eleven…"
Lelouch scowled darkly and stepped around the table; he reached out to grip Suzaku harshly by the shoulder. "Idiot," he hissed. "Do you really think so little of me—you think I give a shit about that?" He sighed. Tone softening, he went on, "You've always been very special to me. Nothing's changed in that regard, Suzaku." Letting go of the brunet's shoulder, he leaned down to retrieve Suzaku's fallen fork. Twiddling it in his fingers nonchalantly, he offered a small smile and explained, "I may be Britannian, but don't worry. I'm not like the others."
Green eyes misted over with tears and Suzaku's throat tightened. In a choked voice, he murmured, "Lelouch…" Even after being reassured that their differing ethnicities didn't drive a wedge between them, the Japanese teen still felt his stomach twist with anxiety. Only now, there was the beginning of an expanding lightheartedness in his chest, and he felt out of sorts in his own body. "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything," Lelouch suggested. "Wait for me in the other room. I'll be right with you after I put your chicken in the fridge." Then, casting his eyes quickly over the brunet's face, he murmured, "Hold on. Before you go..." With a small smile, he grabbed a clean napkin and carefully wiped at the corner of Suzaku's lip. Leaning closer to inspect the spot, he explained, "There was a crumb." Pulling back, he smirked triumphantly and swept into the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder once or twice to see that Suzaku was still there.
Still tense, but feeling happier despite that, the brunet soldier headed for the sitting room. He couldn't protest anymore—not when Lelouch was so adamant, and especially not when he looked so damn pleased with himself.
*/*
The prince stood in the doorway, watching.
Suzaku stood in the middle of the room. The furniture in the sitting room was comfortably arranged, but curiously enough he made no move to sit on any of the couches, loveseats, or easy chairs. He walked over to the longest couch, his shoes thumping on the hardwood floor, and cautiously reached out to run his index finger along the armrest. Almost immediately, he snatched it back. "And here I thought he'd have silk," he laughed quietly to himself.
Lelouch continued to monitor the brunet's movements, seeing his sitting room through the other's eyes for the first time. The posh furnishings looked rarely used, almost as if they existed only as décor. There were no golden linings, but the expensive ivory upholstery spoke of nobility and status—fitting for a pair of wayward royals. An amused smile curled the ex-prince's lip.
The brunet slowly turned in a half-circle, eyeing with interest the bare pink-and-gold-colored walls that highlighted the elegant beauty of the room.
Extravagant simplicity was Lelouch's style, and the prince was proud that his handiwork showed in every corner. He supposed, though, to outsiders, that it looked like a picture out of a magazine, not a lived-in room used to entertain guests. After a minute or two more of simply observing the other boy, Lelouch offered, "Go ahead and sit down, Suzaku."
The soldier jumped at the sudden sound, whirling around to pinpoint its source. "Oh!" he breathed, exhaling in relief. "Lelouch. Sorry, I just…"
Shaking his head, Lelouch held up a hand. "It's fine. Just relax and sit."
Suzaku lowered himself to the floor, sitting ramrod straight with his legs folded neatly beneath him. Tan hands rested on his thighs.
"…What are you doing?"
The brunet cocked his head. "Everything looks so fancy. I don't—I don't want to mess it up."
Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "It's furniture, Suzaku. You're supposed to sit on it."
"Yeah, but…" the Japanese boy protested, looking to the floor. He opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it and pursed his lips. A couple seconds later, he tried again and came up with, "It doesn't look like anyone's ever used it before."
Chuckling, the ebony-haired prince explained, "You're mostly right. I rarely use this room." His purple eyes shone good-naturedly. "I normally don't let people inside here. Be honored." Gesturing elaborately to the wide expanse of available seats, he joked with dry humor, "How many invitations do you need? Take a seat already!"
Scrambling to obey, Suzaku slid onto the nearest couch. "Thank you, Lelouch," he said gratefully. Green eyes flickered to the older boy, then stared out at the room again. A single vase of flowers sat on the coffee table between two easy chairs. A fresh, wet floral scent emanated from the apple blossoms and baby's breath, filling the room with a delightful fragrance.
Following the soldier's gaze, Lelouch explained softly, "Nunnally likes to care for the Student Council garden. Every five days, we choose the best-growing flowers from the nursery to decorate this room. She has flowers by her bed, too; the sweet smells help calm her down when she's upset." Smiling, he took a seat beside his friend. He turned his head to face him directly, unwilling—or maybe unable—to take his eyes off Suzaku. He couldn't handle another seven-year separation, and this time he was taking no chances; his eyes soaked in the Japanese boy's presence greedily. I've missed him. I can't believe he's here with me now.
"Ah, I see," the soldier replied. Nunnally was a safe topic of conversation, but he didn't comment further. Instead, he sank back into the couch and blushed lightly under the older boy's intense stare.
They sat at either end of the couch. The room was quiet save for the sound of their breathing. Since Nunnally had been put to bed after she'd finished her dinner and Sayoko wasbusy elsewhere, they were alone. That was fine; there were things Lelouch wanted to discuss with the younger boy out of his innocent little sister's presence.
There were issues neither wanted to bring up, and even the predictable lighthearted pleasantries turned sour when touched. Once he finally decided to break the awkward silence, Lelouch steered clear of the topic of Zero and the military, choosing instead to focus on some neutral common ground. "So you've survived your first day at Ashford Academy!" he exclaimed, trying to sound as excited as possible. Some of the emotion was fake, but most of it was genuine awe at seeing the other boy after so long.
"Yeah," Suzaku laughed uneasily. "It's a good school. I like it," he said noncommittally, looking anywhere but at Lelouch.
The undercover royal frowned disapprovingly. "Don't say things like that." Doesn't he know that I can see straight through him?
Suzaku's attention jerked to the other. "What?" he asked, dumbfounded. Mulling over his last words, he scrunched his face as if trying to remember anything he could have said that might be taken offensively.
Lelouch's frown deepened, and he pressed his feet hard against the floor in irritation. Is he still that much of an idiot? He sighed and explained, "You were jeered at, swung at, and singled out as the scum of the earth. No one talked to you except to make fun of you, and you were pushed repeatedly in the hallways." His eyes were hard as he recounted the day's events. "Two of our teachers gave you extra work because you were late to class—because other teachers knowingly sent you in the wrong direction." He leveled his gaze on Suzaku, catching glossy, shiny green eyes with his, and dared him, "Don't tell me you had a good first day after all that."
The brunet squirmed in his seat. "I got extra work because I'm so far behind," he said halfheartedly in the teachers' defense.
Purple eyes narrowed. "You really believe that?" Not even Suzaku can be that stupid and naïve.
"I have to," Suzaku said stubbornly, lifting his chin. "And besides. Today wasn't all bad. I ran into you—and Nunnally—and that sort of makes up for things." He ducked his head shyly.
Lelouch only blinked, searching Suzaku's eyes for any underlying truths. Firmly disputing the other boy's words, he said, "Nothing could ever make up for the way they treat you, though I won't deny running into you here is amazing. I'm glad I can help, but I still don't think it's right that you're suffering. Nor do I think it's right that you're bottling it all up." Eyes narrowing, he scooted closer along the couch towards his long-lost friend.
"I'm not," Suzaku protested, leaping to his feet.
"Suzaku," Lelouch warned, settling down before he slid into the other's vacated seat. "Don't lie to me." He stayed put in his new position, eyes half-lidded with feigned boredom. Confidence radiated from his every pore and his voice was solid, leaving no room for weak arguments.
With a hesitant smile, Suzaku sank back into his seat, yielding to the prince's aura of power. Their sides lightly brushed, and their knees knocked. "All right, Lelouch." He looked to the floor, avoiding eye-contact, and folded his hands in his lap, like a small child being scolded.
The prince raised an eyebrow at the submissive behavior. The Suzaku from seven years ago would have stepped forward, heated complaints thick on his tongue. Had the military beaten that spark out of him, or was it simply the build-up of years of prejudice weighing on his spirit?
Anger seethed within him; this was what Britannia had reduced his friend to since the war! Purple eyes sparked and Lelouch growled, "Listen, and listen good. The others at this school might treat you horribly, but I will always be your friend. No matter what." He nodded. "So you don't have to be nervous around me, all right? I'm not a Britannian—or a prince. I'm just your friend. Just Lelouch—that's all." There's no room for titles or labels between us.
Suzaku nodded slowly, almost as if he didn't believe what he was agreeing with. His lip quivered as the older boy lectured him, but he didn't cry.
Lelouch sighed in exasperation. "Suzaku, it doesn't matter to me that you're Japanese."
At the mention of his culture's true name, the brunet glanced sharply up, green eyes shining with awe and gratitude. "Lelouch!"
"I mean it," the raven-haired boy said determinedly. "You're Kururugi Suzaku. That's all that matters to me, and that's why I'll stick by you." A warm smile flitted across his lips. Gently, he reached up and pressed the pads of his fingers against Suzaku's cheek, physically turning the younger boy to face him dead-on. "I wish you'd understand." And soon!
A matching smile lit up Suzaku's face, though his eyes still showed a hint of doubt. A tinge of pink spread outwards from where Lelouch's fingers rested on his skin. "I do understand."
Lelouch scoffed, "Why do I get the feeling you're lying to me right now?" His hand drifted back to his lap.
The Japanese boy's smile faltered. "I'm not lying, Lelouch. It's okay. I really do understand. I know you're not like other Britannians."
"I'll hold you to that," the prince said, holding out his pinky. "I don't tolerate being lied to, Suzaku, so you have to mean it when you say you won't do it." His eyes glinted as he coaxed, "Come on, you have to seal it officially. Nunnally taught me the rhyme and everything."
Jaw dropping in surprise that Lelouch knew how to make a kiddy-style "Japanese promise," Suzaku automatically lifted his hand. He closed his mouth and tilted his head, seeming to consider his promise as he slowly reached out to link pinkies with Lelouch. "This will go two-way," he added, his eyes unusually serious.
"Of course," Lelouch promised hastily, ignoring the sharp jolt that came with skin-to-skin contact. "We won't lie to each other." Within reason, of course. Violet irises searched the younger boy's tan face, and he said wryly, "Suzaku, you need to look at me for this to work. You're not afraid of me, are you?" Is he…hiding something?
Suzaku hurriedly shook his head, nervously meeting his friend's eye. "No," he said softly. Then, gaining confidence, he teased, "I never would have thought you the type to know children's stories."
"Nunnally taught it to me," Lelouch repeated, then roughly moved their pinkies up and down in a sad mimicry of how his sister performed the motions. Clearing his throat no more than three times, he started to chant—off-rhythm— "Cross my heart, hope to die, eat a thousand needles—oh, I can't do this."
"What?"
Lelouch pulled back, turning away. His words came out in a rush. "Forget it. I'm not—it's stupid." An embarrassed blush heated his cheeks.
The brunet slowly lowered his hand, pinky still outstretched. "Is that it, or are you just leaving room to lie to me in the future?"
Scowling, the prince lowered his head, bangs falling over his eyes. "No," he said shortly. "I just think it's a childish game. Humoring my little sister is one thing, but we're both old enough not to buy into crap like that anymore. We both know promises aren't worth anything."
Suzaku gaped at him. "Lelouch…"
The prince lifted his head back up, purple eyes radiating intensity. "It's action that counts, Suzaku. I'll hold you to your word, but I won't put my trust in a child's game to prove it."
"I understand," Suzaku said, nodding his head vigorously. Looking uncomfortably around the room, his eyes landed on a clock and he rose to his feet. He groaned at the late hour and then took two steps nearer the door, throwing out, "I've been here too long. I have to get back to the military base now."
Lelouch's jaw tensed, but he made no move to speak as he followed his guest to the door. I scared him off with my anger. I'll have to be careful not to send him running for good. Forcing himself to relax, he tried to sound casual when he offered, "We have extra room here if you want to move in." The proposal was out his mouth before he could stop it, and sirens blared in his head. What am I doing?! I'd love to have him here, but it wouldn't be practical. I'm Zero! Suzaku cannot live here! Still, something in his chest ached with want; he steeled his nerves and could do nothing but wait for his friend's response.
*/*
Suzaku stopped in his tracks. His heart swelled with yearning to take his friend up on his offer, but he reminded himself of his duty to the military. The thought of living with Lelouch made his heart jump to his throat, and that was the main reason he had to decline. Until he figured out why being around the Britannian boy made his body act all weird, then it simply wasn't safe to be in such close contact all the time. Expanding on that thought, he turned to the prince at the doorway and earnestly said, "I don't think we should be seen together at school."
Lelouch looked stunned. "What?"
The soldier leaned forward with his excuses. "How would you explain it—being friends with an Honorary Britannian? We have to guard your secret. No one can know you're royalty!" Though it wasn't his main reason for deciding on his plan of action, it was legitimate nonetheless; Lelouch's and Nunnally's secret royal birthrights were valid concerns. As he turned on his heel, though, Suzaku knew the true reason for his idea wasn't to protect the 'Lamperouge' siblings; it was to protect his own heart.
Glaring, the prince growled at his retreating back, "Doing it again, huh?! Everyone's needs but your own!"
Suzaku blinked and stopped, but didn't turn back around. He's calling me selfless! He had to laugh callously inside his head as he started walking again, not bothering to respond. It's the exact opposite! Lelouch, I can't drag you down for my sake...
…Even I won't be that selfish.
*/*
The following day dawned bright and clear. High school students milled about the Ashford Academy lawn, catching up on local gossip and complaining about tests and homework assignments. Good-natured jostling led to cheery laughs among the various pockets of teenagers. The excited buzz of conversation then died abruptly, as if someone had flipped a switch for silence. Every Britannian student's attention was trained on the new Eleven transfer coming up the walk, and they automatically parted to let him into the building; no one wanted to risk brushing against him.
Suzaku bravely kept his head up as he strode past his new classmates, keeping his focus dead-ahead. As soon as he'd passed by, he heard the people behind him begin to speak in hushed whispers. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw them glaring in his direction. His ears burned from the attention, but he kept on. It wouldn't do to show weakness—and besides, he was used to such treatment.
That didn't mean it didn't still hurt. As soon as he made it inside, he paused to close his smarting eyes for a second and take a deep breath. Despite trying to filter out the jeers directed at him, he couldn't help but be affected; tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Clutching his bag tighter in his hand, he determinedly opened his eyes and continued walking. His steps slowed as he traversed farther into the building, braving the unknown. A shiver swept down his spine as he realized none of the doorways seemed familiar.
He looked at the school map he'd been given yesterday in confusion; there were some Britannian English terms printed on it that he didn't understand. "Am I even in the right building?" he mumbled to himself. Shoulders sagging, he glanced around and noticed a group of girls who looked to be about his year. Sweeping his hand through his brown curls, he nervously approached them and held up the map. "Um, excuse me!" he called, gaining their attention.
Expressions of pure terror flashed across the girls' faces. The smallest one hid behind her friends. Nervously catching each other's eyes, they shivered.
Suzaku smiled reassuringly at them. "I didn't mean to startle you, but I'm lost and—"
At once, without a word, the girls turned their backs on him and hurried away. They turned a corner and disappeared from sight, leaving Suzaku by his lonesome in the entry hallway.
"That didn't work," the Japanese boy grumbled. A sigh escaped his lips. "Guess I'll keep trying." He continued on and turned at the same corner the girls did, not having a better plan. Sometimes he looked hopefully in other students' directions, but more often than not people dropped their eyes and ignored him. No one smiled. It was hopeless. After taking a few random twists and turns, he found himself in a deserted hallway. The bell didn't ring yet, so where is everyone?
"Hey," boomed a voice, accompanied by a loud footfall. "You Eleven piece of shit! I saw what you did to those girls back there."
Suzaku whirled around, dismayed to see a Britannian boy looming over him. The pale boy had broader shoulders than Suzaku did, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. Locks of sandy-brown hair fell in an arc across his forehead above the menacing scowl on his face. The Japanese brunet took a hasty step back, holding up his hands in surrender. "I didn't do anything to them!" he explained, voice bordering on shrill. "I was going to ask them directions to my first class."
The Britannian boy shook his head. "Yeah right." An anticipatory glint shone in his eyes, and he advanced on the soldier. "Who do you think people will believe? A Britannian, or an Eleven?" He spit the last word and reached out to shove the Japanese roughly into the wall; Suzaku's bag and map went flying. "Boys!" called the aggressive student. "I think our little friend here dropped his books. Why don't you help him out?" Showing his teeth in a scary grin, he wrapped his hand around Suzaku's throat and kept him pinned to the wall.
Mind racing, Suzaku instinctively struggled for freedom. His air passageway was cut off, and he was having trouble breathing. Then, despite the black spots crossing his vision, he reminded himself of his resolve. I won't fight. These boys are innocent civilians. Bullies, yes, but…
Thudding footsteps pounded on the floor, announcing the arrival of more students. Suzaku's vision cleared in time to see one of his textbooks flying at his face. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, biting his lip so he wouldn't scream at the impact. He winced in the Britannian ringleader's hold, then fell gasping to the floor as he was let go. A small bit of blood oozed from an open cut.
"Bring the books," ordered the first Britannian to the others as he ripped up the map. To Suzaku, he said, "You can keep your bag, you little shit."
Suzaku blinked gratefully up at the other student and said sincerely, "Thank you."
All the Britannian bullies gaped at him, then looked to each other questioningly. Still incredulous, they hurried off with his books, leaving him alone on the floor.
A bystander gave the bullies a wave as they ran by, and the leader threw a, "Thanks for covering for us, Fox!" over his shoulder. The Britannian onlooker only nodded at them and glared at the Eleven by his polished shoes.
Groaning, Suzaku stumbled to his feet. Mechanically grabbing his—now much lighter—schoolbag, he wandered around until he found a restroom; the Britannian boy let him go with a disdainful sniff. The Japanese boy went in and looked at himself in the mirror, making sure his neck wasn't bruised; it wasn't. The only sign of his encounter with the bullies was the slight scrape across his temple from where the corner of the textbook had caught him. Sighing with relief, he said, "Good, I'm all right."
Another boy came out of a stall, glanced at him by the sinks, and hurried away without even washing his hands. Suzaku stepped back, shaking his head sadly. No one wants me here. Maybe I should just give this whole 'school' thing up and go back to Lloyd and the Lancelot.
Leaving the bathroom, he turned down the next corridor and immediately felt lighter. Not only were there students walking around, but he spotted Lelouch! At the sight of his friend, he smiled slightly and continued his trek, resolve strengthened. I take it back. I'll stay.
All the abuse in the world is worth seeing Lelouch.
The prince was talking to a blue-haired boy, and Suzaku caught the words "history test" as he passed by. He grimaced to himself. At a Britannian school, no doubt 'history' revolved around praising the emperor for all the lands he'd conquered and enslaved. His fingers curled into a fist, but he knew he had to conform to Britannian standards. It was an oath he'd taken to earn honorary status, and it was part of the reason being called a traitor weighed so heavily on his heart.
Lelouch smiled and tried to catch his eye, but Suzaku only faintly shook his head and walked on, reminding the other boy of their plan to ignore one another in public. Well, it was his own plan; Lelouch hadn't exactly agreed. As he finally entered the classroom, he felt his friend's stare boring into the back of his head. His heart started to pound. Odd. My heart wasn't beating so fast when I was held up against the wall, but now that Lelouch is paying attention to me…
Eyes softening, he slid into an empty seat and made a show of rummaging through his empty bag. At least he'd found his classroom. And, he reminded himself as he glanced towards the doorway, something much better.
*/*
"You're in my seat."
Suzaku looked up, startled. "Excuse me," he apologized, standing up and bowing to the girl. "I didn't mean to."
"Just go away!" the girl snapped, sniffing haughtily. "Now I need to clean my desk. Ugh, it has Eleven stench all over it!" Her nose wrinkling, she took a can of disinfectant from behind her back and showered the area with spray. Students in the room started coughing from the thick, sterilized smell. A complaint of "Damn, Chloe, that stinks!" came from the back of the classroom.
Eyes wide, Suzaku took a few steps backwards. He accidentally bumped into a boy, and the boy growled and pushed him into another student. "I'm sorry!" the brunet cried, hands sweating, as he careened into the second body.
"It's all right," murmured a deep, familiar voice. Pale, slender hands caught and righted Suzaku, brushing off specks of dust from his shoulders. "I know you're not at fault." Purple eyes glared at the hostile Britannians in the room before shining softly in the Japanese boy's direction. Letting his hands settle more firmly on the new student's shoulders, the second boy squeezed lightly in comfort. "Why don't you come sit by me?" he offered, voice raised higher than normal to make a point.
A corner of Suzaku's lips turned up in a smile, but he shook his head. Something in his stomach flipped. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't want to cause any more trouble. The teacher will tell me where to sit."
Lelouch looked disappointed, but he nodded anyway. "If that's what you want," he said dismissively. A hurt tone underlay his words, buried under feigned disinterest.
Suzaku sighed. We can't be close, Lelouch. I know you want to be, but that's just not possible. Not with us being who we are.
"What's all the commotion?" snapped the teacher as she walked into the room. "Mr. Fox, are you telling another baseball story? Save it for the end of class." She dropped her books and papers on her desk and surveyed her students, giving a long look to a redhead Britannian boy—the one who'd kept watch as the gang of bullies assaulted the Eleven transfer. Behind the teacher's glasses, her stern brown eyes narrowed as they fell on Suzaku. "Who are you?" she demanded. As if that weren't enough, she cracked her ruler on the side of the desk.
Suzaku flinched. "My name is Kururugi Suzaku," he began. "I'm the new—"
"Eleven!" shouted the boy Suzaku had accidentally knocked into. Taking a deep breath, the boy repeated calmly, "He's the new Eleven." Azure eyes glinted darkly in the transfer student's direction.
Still wincing, Suzaku looked around to notice that the boy's burning look was reflected in nearly all the others' eyes. Lelouch's burning look was directed at the boy who'd shouted, but his facial expression matched those of his racist classmates all the same. Suzaku swallowed and tried to do damage control. "That's right," he said. "I'm an Honorary Britannian."
At his vocalized loyalty, about ten students relaxed their posture. Some hesitant smiles replaced scathing frowns. A girl with red-orange hair actually beamed at him from across the room, olive green eyes sparkling with warmth.
The teacher's eyes never left Suzaku's. "All right then, Kururugi," she said evenly. "That explains who you are, but not what you are doing in my classroom." Her fingers tightened around the ruler.
Sweat slid down Suzaku's neck. Did I get the wrong room after all? "I just transferred into this class," he explained, licking his lips. "I was filling out the paperwork yesterday morning, so I missed this period." He bowed deeply in apology.
"You will stand up straight when you address me," barked the teacher, again cracking her ruler. As per Britannian standards, she was not culturally sensitive. "I am Mrs. Kerr, and an Eleven of all people will respect me!"
Suzaku nodded frantically on instinct, his heart twisting in his chest. The last of his confidence was fading rapidly. This teacher is so obvious. At least some of the others have the decency to be subtle.
Shaking her head, the openly-racist teacher continued, "I haven't heard anything about a new transfer, so you can stand in the back until I figure out what to do with you." She pointed to one of the rear corners and turned her attention to a pile of papers on her desk. "As for the rest of you, sit down so we can start. If Kuru-whatever-his-name-is is telling the truth—and that's a big if, considering his background—then he needs to take yesterday's test before I can return everyone else's. Blame him for the delay." She started to smirk before catching sight of a waving hand and sighing deeply, "Yes, Mr. Lamperouge?"
Lelouch lowered his arm. "Ma'am," he said respectfully, "Suzaku wasn't here to learn the material that was on yesterday's test, so shouldn't he be excused?" He smiled politely and waited.
The brunet soldier's head jerked in surprise. Oh, Lelouch. A small smile turned his lips. You're always looking out for me. You don't have to, really! Despite his brain's misgivings, warmth blossomed in his chest. Right then and there, it didn't matter how the teacher responded; the mere fact that Lelouch supported him was enough. Then again, he shouldn't publicly stick up for me. We went over this last night. What is he thinking?!
Sighing again, Mrs. Kerr cut into Suzaku's thoughts. "Kuru-I-don't-care was enrolled as of yesterday morning, if his story checks out. That means he is responsible for completing the assignments—including tests—that occurred during the time he missed while officially enrolled." Her gaze sharpened and she snapped at the black-haired boy, "Don't tell me you're dying to know how poorly you performed on yesterday's test, Mr. Lamperouge!"
Suzaku tilted his head and blinked, all previous thoughts forgotten. Lelouch? Fail a test? Impossible! The Britannian prince was a genius; Suzaku knew that that couldn't have changed over the past seven years. Green eyes widened minutely in shock when Lelouch, instead of arguing or looking upset, smugly turned to the blue-haired boy from the hallway and winked.
Another hand rose into the air. "So you're saying we have to wait for the Eleven to finish the test before we get to see our grades?" asked a girl without waiting to be called on. She didn't say the word 'Eleven' like it was a disease, just like it was matter-of-fact.
"That's the policy," Mrs. Kerr confirmed, shooting an irritated look Suzaku's way. "And you, Miss Moore, would do well to remember to speak only when given permission." The girl shrank back in her seat, and the teacher grumbled, "Enough talk about it." Surveying the worried looks of her students, she gave in and allowed them a small sense of hope. "In the meantime, I can say that most of you," she said with a significant look at Lelouch, "did fine." Retrieving her textbook, she instructed the class, "Open your books to page 487." Glancing around the classroom, she spotted the boy in the back and directed, "Kuru-boy, you can start us off."
Suzaku went numb. "I…I don't have my books yet," he explained weakly. It was easier than admitting that his books were stolen by bullies in the hallway, and he looked down in shame. This is getting off to a really bad start.
Snorting, Mrs. Kerr mumbled, "Just what I'd expect of an Eleven. All right then, Mr. Dixon, you may begin. Page 487, please."
The boy from before, the one who'd pushed Suzaku into Lelouch, started to read, "'As with the first Britannian colonies, Area 11 was easily crushed by the Imperial Army…'"
Lelouch's fingers curled into a fist beneath his desk.
Suzaku felt a cold wave of dread wash over him.
First period history was going to drag.
*/*
The bell finally rang after an hour of grueling historical facts. Suzaku had stayed on his feet through sheer force of will, jaw clenched as his ears were assaulted with phrases akin to, "as the Japanese died out," "the Number System…the spirit of Britannia's generosity," and "replaced by 'Eleven.'" He'd stayed quiet throughout class discussion, keeping his eyes trained on the blackboard above Mrs. Kerr's head. His hands were shaking by the end.
Suzaku waited for the majority of the class to file out before moving. He looked away from the Britannian boys, whom he recognized only as Fox and Dixon, as they flashed him cold looks on their way out the door. Fishing out his schedule, he smiled at the thought of his next class: gym. He rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks, and looked forward to working out the rest of the jitteriness in his system. His blood was racing, and he was in the perfect state of mind to sweat out some of his frustration. As he took his first step from the back corner, he noticed the red-orange-haired girl from earlier dart over towards the windows.
"Lelou!" she called, coming to a stop in front of Lelouch's desk. "You're not skipping out on gym today!" She followed up her order with a quick stomp of her foot.
The ex-prince raised an eyebrow but didn't protest as the girl tugged at his arm.
"Come on," the girl encouraged. "Let's walk to gym together." She blushed hotly as soon as the words left her lips, and she nervously wrung her hands together. "Um…if, if you want to, that is…"
Lelouch directed a dazzlingly friendly smile at her, and her blush deepened. "Of course I don't mind, Shirley."
Suzaku immediately noticed that Lelouch's voice took on that alluring feel again—the same one he'd adopted last night during dinner. The Japanese almost swooned along with the girl—Shirley—at the sound of it. He hurriedly checked his bag to look like he was doing something besides eavesdropping, deeming it safe to walk across campus now and avoid a lot of the harassment.
He nearly ripped apart the strap of his bag when he felt the stirrings of jealousy in his stomach. I want Lelouch to smile at me like that. Last night was conveniently forgotten. But doesn't this prove it's all for the best? Lelouch has moved on. He's made new friends…and replaced me. The brunet soldier shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. On the backs of his eyelids, he saw Lelouch as a child-prince running through the tall, green stems of sunflowers. That's right. That's all we ever got together: one lousy summer. The greatest summer— the greatest time—of my life. But still, it's not comparable! Lelouch has had years to build friendships with these Britannian students. Surely feeling cheated was allowed?
But then, he was an Eleven. Shouldn't he be used to being cheated?
"Do you want to walk with us?"
Startled, Suzaku dropped his bag. His eyes shot open and he stared at Lelouch, horrified. What is he doing? Doesn't he understand the need to ignore me?! Suzaku took a fearful step back. "Um."
The red-orange-haired girl looked disappointed for a second before a wide smile stole onto her face. Voice gentle, she said, "Yeah, you're new, right? Come on! Lelou and I will show you where the gym is."
Suzaku dazedly picked up his bag. "Lelou?" he repeated skeptically.
"It's Lelouch," the prince corrected calmly, holding out his hand. Purple eyes narrowed meaningfully at the brunet.
The Honorary Britannian understood the implied warning. "Suzaku," he 'introduced' himself, then reached out to grasp Lelouch's warm hand. A weird jolt zipped through his body, making him drop the other boy's hand fairly quickly. Lowering his gaze, he held his hand out to his friend's company.
The girl reciprocated the gesture and giggled, "Oh, I'm Shirley! It's nice to meetcha. I'm sure it's gotta be rough, being new here and…and, well, everything." She looked embarrassedly to the floor, then grabbed both boys by their elbows and dragged them out the classroom door. "Now hurry or we're gonna be late!"
"I wouldn't mind," Lelouch felt the need to say, and Suzaku laughed despite himself. Straggling students glared at the trio in the hallway, but oddly enough Suzaku thought it wasn't that bad when he was directly surrounded by well-meaning people.
Shirley growled at the ebony-haired boy, "You wouldn't mind skipping gym altogether to go gamble!"
"Gamble?" Suzaku repeated, feeling awkward.
Shirley nodded once, disapproval evident in her eyes. "Lelou likes to gamble chess in the underground."
The soldier blinked at this new information. Of course Lelouch loves chess! He only lived and breathed it when we were boys. But gambling? I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Green eyes widened as he hurried along with the others. Then again, it's been seven years. Lelouch has changed a bit. Yet again, he mulled over the proof of how Lelouch had moved on with his life, grown up, and developed his talents in a way that—while not productive or legal—was certainly better than hurting or killing (which was productive and legal if one was part of the Britannian Army). Suzaku's heart sank.
"It helps pay for necessary expenditures," Lelouch pointed out rationally, mouthing 'Nunnally' to Suzaku when Shirley wasn't looking.
Suzaku jerked back to reality and nodded in understanding. While he shared Shirley's sentiments, he knew why Lelouch couldn't risk a normal job. "Ah," he managed, not knowing what else to say—at least in front of Shirley.
"There are better, legal ways to earn money," Shirley refuted, rounding on Lelouch to glare at him, proving that Lelouch kept his heritage secret from his school friends. "You and Rivalz need to start acting more responsible!"
The Japanese boy blinked. 'Rivalz'? Britannian names are so weird.
Lelouch calmly stared back at the girl. "We're going to be late," he pointed out, completely ignoring her last statement.
With a panicked shriek, Shirley dragged them the rest of the way to the gym. She left them by the boys' changing room door, glancing back at least five times before she disappeared into the girls' locker room.
"She seems annoyed at you," Suzaku said, fidgeting. "Is it because you asked me to come along?"
Lelouch shot him a glare. "No, idiot," he said, falling back into old habits. "Didn't you hear her? She's mad that I gamble."
"Which you shouldn't do," the brunet agreed.
"Not you too," the prince groaned. "Look, it doesn't hurt anyone." He scowled. "She should never have said anything. For all she knew, you could have been a fiercely loyal soldier who would have arrested me for conducting illegal activities."
Suzaku cracked a grin, leaning easily against the wall. "Maybe that's what she was hoping for. You're lucky that I'm a fiercely loyal soldier who would never arrest his best friend for doing illegal stuff."
Lelouch stared at him intensely. "Promise?" he asked, though the teasing tone was absent from his voice.
The soldier shifted uncomfortably. The air felt heavy on his skin, pressing down on him with the weight of his pledge. "Pinky promise," he answered determinedly, green eyes glinting with seriousness.
The prince's face broke into a grin, and he stepped towards the younger boy. Suzaku blushed at the close proximity, and Lelouch halted, tilting his head in confusion. Before he could inquire what was wrong, the door to the boy's locker room opened and a horde of Britannian male students rushed out. Then, his smile capsizing, Lelouch narrowed his eyes and very slowly lifted his hand, brushing his fingerpads softly against the dried cut on Suzaku's temple. "What happened?" he murmured suspiciously. "You didn't have this injury last night."
Suzaku felt a wave of lightheadedness at Lelouch's intimate touch and he closed his eyes, simply relishing the feel of the other boy's fingers on his skin. He pays such careful attention to me, the brunet noticed, his heart jumping at the discovery.
Lelouch trailed his fingers lightly back and forth the thin line of scab, seemingly trying to offer some comfort. "Well?" he pressed, his concern for the soldier evident in both voice and touch.
Shrugging, Suzaku sighed and answered, "I was just…clumsy. I caught my head on the desk corner when I fell." He opened his eyes just in time to see the prince raise a skeptical eyebrow. Before he could argue, the brunet rushed to deter him with, "We should probably get changed."
"We'll be discussing this later," the ebony-haired teen grumbled, casting Suzaku a worried glance. He still wasn't one to back down.
Gulping and nodding, Suzaku stepped away from his best friend's hand and into the locker room, making a beeline for the wooden bench closest to the front. He rummaged through his bag for his gym uniform, laying his clothes out on the bench. Feeling Lelouch join him, he looked up—and promptly bit his tongue when the prince unashamedly peeled off his black uniform jacket and white button-up shirt. Suzaku's chest tightened, and he felt his groin throb as inch by inch of pale skin was revealed. He took a step back, his forming erection making it hard to walk.
"You okay?" Lelouch asked concernedly, eyes fixed on the other's clammy face. "It's just gym. I thought you were an exercise nut."
Suzaku tore his gaze from the older boy's naked chest, trying to focus on something other than Lelouch's perked pink nipples and creamy skin. "I'm fine," he managed in a husky voice, then swallowed. "I just need to use the restroom. Don't wait up," he added as an afterthought.
Inside the middle stall, Suzaku fumbled with the fastenings of his pants. "Damn," he hissed as the rough, shifting fabric made his situation worse. "Why is this happening?" he growled to himself in a whisper. It's just Lelouch. What is wrong with me?! He couldn't remember ever being this hard.
Realization struck him, and he paused with his zipper halfway down. As his erection strained against the looser fabric of his boxer shorts, the soldier wondered aloud to himself, "What am I doing?" Burying his face in his hands, he left his sex neglected in its confines. "No way should I be doing this!" he ordered himself in another whisper, hoping the sound of his own voice would ground him to reality. Because certainly thinking of Lelouch in that way was impossible. Just because the Britannian ex-prince was attractively alluring did not make him fair game for masturbation fantasies. That was crossing the best-friend border into a realm of intimacy Suzaku wasn't sure he wanted to venture.
…But those deep violet eyes and black hair. That thin, lithe frame. The sharp cut of his jaw, and the way his lips turned down when he was brooding. His pale skin and long neck. The deep sound of his voice when he was annoyed. Lelouch was like sex personified. Imagining the older boy made Suzaku's stomach twist, and another stab of heat flashed straight down to his crotch.
Suzaku groaned. Desire. That was what it all boiled down to. His body had been letting him know these past twenty-four hours that it liked Lelouch—very, very much. Like an idiot, he'd ignored the signs and now it had culminated in this. His burning erection twitched. His breathing accelerated and he leaned against the closed door of the stall, letting it support his weight. He couldn't touch himself with a free conscience, so there was nothing to do but wait it out. How long would it take his arousal to soften? Suzaku hoped it wouldn't take all period; he couldn't afford to make any more bad first impressions at school. Cock throbbing again, he glanced down and scowled at it. What would Lelouch think, to know he was in the foremost of his best friend's sex daydreams?
It was too embarrassing to think about.
What did Lelouch mean to him? A lot, of course, but how much? Too much? Could he love Lelouch too much? Suzaku sighed, resting the back of his skull on the door. This was too complicated to figure out by himself, and he certainly couldn't ask Lelouch for help. There must be something wrong with me!
Squeezing his eyes shut, blocking out the world, Suzaku waited. As a trained soldier, he forced his mind to focus on other things. The Lancelot needed another tune-up. Someone high up on the military chain of command wanted to do a follow-up investigation on him concerning the whole Zero incident. Nunnally wanted him to visit for dinner. Lelouch—
Lelouch.
Suzaku swallowed thickly, his pants tightening again. This is taking forever! Would it really hurt to just reach down and…? His hand drifted lower, but he curled his fingers into a fist and snatched it back at the last instant. No. He would not dishonor his friendship with Lelouch. He would not sully the memory of his friend with carnal hunger. He would outlast his body! His frame shook from the force of his self-control, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Shame still flushed his cheeks, but there was nothing he could do so long as he was aroused.
Again, he forced his thoughts in other directions. He was getting better as a Knightmare frame pilot. He should be in gym. If Shirley was any indication, he was beginning to be accepted at Ashford Academy. Finally, at long last, his erection went away and the soldier hurriedly did up his pants. While washing his hands, he splashed cool water on his heated face.
His feet felt heavy as he lugged himself back to the wooden bench. And stared. His gym uniform was right where he'd left it, but his shirt was now decorated with red graffiti. Feeling numb, he reached for it and held it up, green eyes scanning the words: "Go back to your ghetto!" On the back, it read, "Filthy Eleven!"
Suzaku lowered his head and sank onto the bench, gathering the stained fabric in his arms. He sat there for a minute, letting the fear, embarrassment, anxiety, and anger wash over him. He'd expected this, but his chest was still tight with hurt. Everyone except Lelouch hated him; hell, he hated himself. Suzaku shut his eyes against reality and imagined, just for a few seconds, what it would be like to not have to face the demeaning insults and prejudice every day of his life. His breath caught, and his eyes snapped open. Gym wasn't over yet, and he wasn't going to let racist Britannians scare him into hiding.
He threw on his defiled clothes and jogged out to the soccer field.
*/*
"Kururugi!" bellowed the gym instructor, Coach Ryder, striding over to the Japanese boy with an angry scowl on his face. He'd at least tried to pronounce the new name on his roster. "I know you're new here, but that's no excuse to disregard school rules. A baby knows that you don't write on your gym uniform. Let's see…I think three weeks worth of detention is appropriate for someone like you," he sneered.
Someone like you. Suzaku clenched a fist in righteous anger, but only nodded politely in his gym teacher's direction. "I understand, sensei—er, I mean, sir." He flinched at the 'look' the coach sent him in response.
"Stand up straight when you show up for my class, Kururugi," ordered Coach Ryder haughtily. "And make sure your uniform isn't wrinkled. Come on, stop hunching over. You can be the first to run the hard-level obstacle course today; consider it your welcome to the school." A twisted smile graced his lips.
Suzaku took a deep breath before standing at attention, the words 'Go back to your ghetto!' in plain sight across his chest. He took small comfort in the fact that he excelled in physical activity. This guy thinks it's a punishment, but he has no idea who he's dealing with! I can do this obstacle course in my sleep—twice. But still, if he keeps treating me like this, maybe I should just start skipping this class with Lelouch. His heart pounded at the thought of spending every second period alone with his best friend, away from the racism and classism that guided the rest of Britannian society. But no, how would I explain skipping if I got caught?
Looking around, he noticed his friend shaking with rage. Lelouch looked ready to step in and defend him, but Suzaku only shook his head. Nothing good will come of this if Lelouch gets involved.
"Did you hear me, Kururugi?" snarled the gym teacher.
Suzaku locked eyes with him. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Then get to it." The coach blew the whistle directly into Suzaku's face.
The soldier took a deep breath and shot off in the pointed direction. Even the hard-level obstacle course here was ten times easier than his military training sessions, and his feet pounded on the firm turf as he raced around the lawn. He threw himself into his 'punishment' with abandon, narrowing his train of thought to focus on each part. His muscles ached, but it was a good ache—freeing, somehow. He scaled erected walls and jumped across sand pits, finishing the obstacle course in record time.
Lelouch was struggling with the easy-level obstacle course.
"Nicely done, Kururugi," Coach Ryder grudgingly praised him, jerking his attention away from the flailing Britannian prince. "I'll decrease your detention time to only one week if you keep up that level of performance." He dismissed Suzaku abruptly. "Lamperouge!" he shrieked, blowing on his whistle. "Run, you wuss! You're not even halfway done yet!"
Suzaku's face scrunched as he watched, and he pitied his friend. Seven years had done nothing to help Lelouch's stamina, it seemed. It was comically pathetic to see the black-haired Britannian actually crawl to the finish line twenty-three minutes later, gasping for breath. The time gave Suzaku a chance to get over his embarrassing thoughts about his friend and cool down, though watching a sweaty and panting Lelouch did much to keep his blood heated. The soldier bounced easily over to the sickly-looking boy and offered a hand. He didn't think the proud prince would accept, but he had to offer, "Need some help?"
"Yes, please," Lelouch moaned, surprisingly, obviously trying to see past the sweat dripping into his eyes. "Carry me."
Green eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me," the prince rasped.
Shirley and the blue-haired boy from earlier—the one Lelouch had been talking to that morning—ran up to the duo. "Lelou!" the orange-haired girl fretted. "Are you okay?!"
"Aw," the blue-haired Britannian joked, "Lelouch is worn out again from gym class. Hey, buddy, tomorrow we'll go gambling instead."
"You will not!" Shirley argued, poking the boy in the chest. "Rivalz, stop encouraging Lelou's bad habits!"
Suzaku smiled at their antics, feeling some of his anxiety ebb away. He knelt next to Lelouch and grasped him by the shoulders, hauling him to his knees. "Come on, get up," he wheedled.
The other boy, Rivalz, noticed him for the first time. "Hey, you're that Eleven transfer student!"
Before Suzaku could answer, Shirley jumped in. "Yeah, and he's really nice! Lelou and I walked him to class." She smiled at the brunet, clearly pleased with their earlier interaction—or perhaps she was just admiring how Lelouch had made the first move to befriend a lowly Eleven.
"Cool," Rivalz said, his voice upbeat. "That's just like Lelouch. Always looking out for the little guy."
Suzaku bristled, then forced himself to calm down. The boy probably hadn't meant to insult him—which was funny, because most people here did. He rotated a bit to face the two of them directly. "I'm Suzaku," he said, hesitantly smiling at his new acquaintances.
"I'm Rivalz!" the boy said, though Suzaku had already determined his identity.
Suzaku opened his mouth to say something, then froze as he felt sweaty hands scrabbling at his back.
Lelouch used his last reserves of strength to lift himself up and drape himself over Suzaku's back. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy's broad shoulders, and dug his knees into the tops in the brunet's hips. "I'm ready to go," he said weakly. "Don't worry, I have enough strength to hang on for the ride."
In jerky movements, Suzaku rose to his feet and reached back to support his friend's weight. He blushed as his fingers swept across Lelouch's hanging bottom, but it was the easiest place to put his hands. "Why are we doing this again?" he asked dryly.
"Because I'm tired," Lelouch quipped, sighing in apparent contentment as he settled into the younger boy's hold. "And you're both my friend and an exercise nut, so I know I can trust you to carry me back."
"Whoa," Rivalz breathed, awestruck. "Man, he already trusts you?!"
Warmth flew through Suzaku's chest. "It wasn't easy to earn, mind you," he said to the other Britannian male—the one not clinging to his back.
Rivalz shook his head. "Still, it was pretty quick. You've been here, what, a day?"
Snapping his mouth shut, the Honorary Britannian looked to the ground. He'd forgotten that the others didn't know about his and Lelouch's shared past. He knew it wasn't a good idea to be close.
"He's my friend," the exhausted student repeated warningly.
"I get it, I get it," Rivalz said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "Let's just go get changed. Hey Suzaku, man, tough break about your uniform. Some of the people here are real pigheaded bastards."
The Japanese boy shrugged, which wasn't easy to do with Lelouch wrapped around his shoulders. "I expected it coming in," he said flippantly and started to walk back to the locker room. Shirley and Rivalz trailed behind, and Suzaku was glad they couldn't see the front of his shorts. He was tired and spent, but feeling Lelouch's body pressed so closely to his own was doing wonders for his libido. At least he could pass off the sweat and red face as side-effects from exercise.
"Tomorrow," Lelouch piped up, "you can wear my uniform."
Suzaku walked in silence for a few seconds, processing Lelouch's offer. "How come?" he asked finally.
Lelouch dug his chin into the other boy's shoulder. "Because I won't need it. I'm going gambling instead."
Shirley immediately protested, but the black-haired boy only closed his eyes and ignored her.
"You can come if you want," he murmured invitingly into the shell of Suzaku's ear, his lips lightly brushing the back of the brunet's lobe.
Suzaku stiffened in response. He couldn't suppress a shiver, and the prince's words made him think of the hour before, when he was barricaded in the bathroom stall, his clothed cock straining and Lelouch's name ringing in his head. It was almost like Lelouch was granting permission. "I'll think about it," he choked out, and he felt Lelouch's lips curve into a wicked smirk against the side of his neck.
*/*
-End Chapter-
