notes: Written for meme_chan, who requested a post-R2 LelouchC.C. on LJ. Enjoy!
unconventional
look at us breaking all the rules
.
He was waiting for a girl.
It felt like the first year of junior high all over again, Lelouch reflected, a little disgusted. His palms were sweaty, he couldn't seem to stay still, and his heart was thumping so crazily it felt like it could jolt out of his ribcage at any given moment. He attributed these to three things: a) the annoyingly thick summer air, b) the fact that he was supposed to be in hiding, and c) the fact that he was also supposed to be, well, dead.
Yet here he was, hovering around in the parking lot of a mall, wearing a stupid hat and sunglasses to avoid eye contact with anyone.
C.C. was late.
They had gone down for a much-needed grocery trip earlier today, having discovered that they were out of dishwashing liquid and the dirty dishes in their sink were three feet above his head. It was fine until the witch decided that she needed to "get more supplies", flouncing into the air-conditioned building and leaving him to carry two weeks' worth of groceries. The smirk she threw him over her shoulder as she waved their credit card (signed under Orange's name) and disappeared into the mass of shoppers had been victorious, and it dawned on Lelouch that he would be swimming in debt very, very soon.
But that was not the problem. The problem was that waiting for C.C. was much more nerve-wracking than an infiltration mission or a Knightmare battle.
If anyone suspected him, they might have to move again to avoid discovery. The last time it had been from a large cottage by the shore with a great view of the ocean to a small, humble abode in the mountain. Lelouch didn't really mind the downgrade, but he hated having to drag Cheese-kun and his family from place to place. Cheese-otousan and Cheese-okaasan might look harmless, but god of all gods, they were heavier than anvils!
"They are not," C.C. had scoffed when he complained, her hair whipping his face when she turned around to grace him with a look, "You just lack physical strength. You're weak."
Then she had proceeded to beat him with Cheese-kun so hard (he'd forgotten to order extra cheese for her pizza), he almost dislocated his hip.
Lelouch scowled at the mall entrance. He didn't like to admit it, but C.C. had the uncanniest ability to take him by surprise and render him completely speechless. One would think that after five years of living together, with practically only each other to depend on, he would at least understand her a little, but she was almost as mysterious as she had been when they first met.
It was, all in all, very irritating. Getting impaled right through his aorta was nothing compared to the things she made him do—consciously or not.
Last month he wasted an hour talking to their pizza delivery boy; a thin, perverted-looking lad named Alfred. Occasionally smoothing his fake French mustache, Lelouch had listened as Alfred professed his undying love for C.C. and shared what he thought were her best qualities. Apparently she was "magnificent with very sexy, inviting thighs", and hearing that made the former Emperor want nothing more than to push him down the hill.
But he couldn't, so he settled for the next best way to ensure that Alfred would never, ever return:
Lelouch touched his chest.
Except it wasn't touching, not really. It was more like, well, fondling, if one wanted to get technical.
"I'm straight!" Alfred had squeaked like a girl then, "Sorry! I'm sorry if I lead you on, but I'm straight!" before immediately jumping to his truck.
The next day it was a girl delivering their pizza, and to this day Lelouch never saw Alfred anymore. Of course, now he only had to take care of their gardener, their repairman, their—
"You shouldn't frown like that, Lelouch," a familiar voice said from behind him. "It makes you look undignified."
Snapping to attention, his mood soured even more when he saw C.C. "What took you so long?"
"So impatient," C.C. sighed in mock annoyance, shaking her head. "I told you we need a few extra things."
"'We'?" Lelouch peered disbelievingly at the paper bags dangling from her fingers. The logo emblazoned on them was that of a department store. "'We'?"
She smirked. "Curious?"
"As if." Snorting, he crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to feign indifference, though the effect was lessened by the fact that he was carrying five bulky bags of household-related things. "More like suspicious."
"Don't worry," C.C. patted his arm placatingly. "I bought them just the way you like it. Anyway, shall we go home? The next bus is in ten minutes."
Not waiting for his response, she then dumped the things she was carrying at him, and Lelouch knew he had no choice but to follow.
That afternoon, after a healthy, wholesome dinner involving vegetables (finally!) and clearing the dirty dishes from the sink, Lelouch watched as C.C. slowly unloaded the paper bags. Sure enough, the first three contained female clothing: a pink chiffon top, dark-washed skinny jeans, and a pair of white denim shorts. To his surprise, she threw the fourth to his lap.
"That one's for you," she told him when he didn't move.
After a moment, Lelouch pulled out a package from of the bag. It was gift-wrapped, the paper a pattern of two Knightmares in love. He peered at it suspiciously. The last time C.C. bought him a gift, he'd gotten an inflatable cowboy costume. "What's this?"
"Something to wear when we go to the beach," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Look, I bought myself a swimsuit. I bought it to match you, actually."
The green-haired woman grabbed the bag sitting next to her knees, and voila, it contained an ordinary-looking swimsuit, deep purple like his eyes. He exhaled in relief. "So you bought me beach shorts?"
"Look for yourself." The corners of her mouth turned upwards, sly. "I bought yours to match me, so it should be perfect."
Deciding to just get over it, he ripped the paper packaging abruptly, tearing the pink Knightmare away from the blue one. Freeing the garment from the wrapper, Lelouch stiffened as the material sank into his hands. He didn't mind the yellow. Heck, he didn't even mind the most likely itchy fabric. No, what he minded was—
"A mankini," C.C. filled in. "What do you think, hmm? They only have one size but I think it should be pretty big, well, down there."
Mortified, his face turned an embarrassing shade of red. "C.C.!"
"Oh, and you know what?" her hand was on his shoulder all of a sudden and he could almost feel her lips moving as she whispered, her voice pitched low and husky and very, very terrifyingly pleased, "It glows underwater."
.
end.
notes: Can you say "whipped"? XD
Also. I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I had every mind to make this more romantic, more serious, but neither Lelouch nor C.C. agreed. Anyway, it has been a while since I wrote anything for Code Geass and I have no idea if this one is up to the fandom's standards. Um, I hope you liked it?