Fandom: Code GEASS: Lelouch of The Rebellion
Rating: R. I won’t call it smut but it certainly has the element.
Warnings: ANGST. All capital letters and bold. Possible OOC-ness too.
Disclaimer: Code GEASS belongs to Sunrise.
Summary: It was a whole other world to live in, under that constant spray of water. A world made of flaws and weaknesses and stupidity.
A/N: Inspired by this fanart by summer_birds. Basically, what I did is strip away all the cuteness and humor of the picture and replace them with this… sick, sick angst. Please read at your own risk.
“How can you let anyone get you from behind like this?”
Suzaku would have laughed, but somewhere between trying to push Gino’s hands away and his breath catching in his throat, the impulse to laugh met its untimely death, leaving his dry throat scraping for words.
“I know it’s you,” he managed to croak at last, his voice jarring against the rhythmical splash of water on the tiles.
“But what if someone is trying to impersonate me?” Gino pressed on, words easily flowing from his mouth like these lukewarm droplets, slithering on his skin, soaking him whole. “Not that they will succeed, but at least if it’s just footsteps, they may be able to.”
“Why would anyone want to impersonate you?” Suzaku wondered loudly, trying to focus on anything but the other knight’s hands.
The chuckle was light, but Gino pulled their body flush against each other. “I’m the only one whom you allow to get close to you like this.” It was either he was referring to their proximity or the fact that his fingers were ghosting over the plane of Suzaku’s stomach, and steadily going lower.
“Why would anyone want to get close to me?” he murmured, eyes tightly shut. The fingers stopped for a moment, only to disappear and materialize again on the juncture of his thigh, stroking slowly.
“Do you seriously want me to answer that?” A question that had very little to do with questioning, and Suzaku inhaled sharply when the same fingers accidentally brushed against his growing hardness. He could feel Gino’s mouth quirking. “Thought so.”
There was no rhythm, only slow, slow strokes that pushed him even more slowly toward that brink of sanity. Gino’s arm was heavy and solid across his chest, holding him and the rest of the world together. He wasn’t touching, only skittering on the sides, around, never directly, firmly coming into contact. He wasn’t teasing either. He was waiting.
Suzaku thought he knew what to do, how to respond, but it was a whole other world to live in, under that constant spray of water. A world made of flaws and weaknesses and stupidity. He felt the water on his face and let his head fall back against stiff shoulder, chest heaving, legs trembling.
“Damnit, Suzaku.” Gino’s mouth was on his neck, breathing hard against his skin. “You have no idea. You’re just… oh God, you’re…”
His whimper was sharp when Gino took him into his hand, almost a sob. He struggled to breathe – it splintered into gasps, and the sound made him want to bite his tongue, only he couldn’t because he was struggling to breathe. And it splintered into gasps, pressed into moans, mortification stuck deep in his throat. It was like battling restraint, only it wasn’t restraint. Something much worse. Pleasure itself maybe. He couldn’t feel anything, only Gino, firm and unyielding behind him, hips relentlessly grinding against his rear, hands touching, stroking, claiming. It was hard and fast and perfect in a completely fucked-up way. Suzaku threw his head back, breathing coming off ragged and harsh as he staved off release, lips mouthing words that never made it past his throat.
“You never want this.”
Gino’s voice was thin and plaintive, all too knowing as he withdrew his hands, arms, body, everything. His only support gone, Suzaku sank to the floor, fingers grasping the cold tiles in front of him that felt like the headstone of somebody’s grave. He was aching all over, his body throbbing, pulsing in a beat that screamed more than just need, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not without reaching back and make Gino his and it was one of those things that froze him into stillness on the first sentence. So he just knelt and felt water pounding down his back, imagining that the cooling spray was something else.
And even that was denied from him when Gino reached over and turned the shower off.
“We’re wasting water here,” he said again, with a short, strained laugh that did nothing to conceal his disappointment. “I’ll let you finish your–“
“You don’t know anything,” Suzaku spat, turning around so fast that his flawed balance abandoned him and now he was sitting, curling against the cold wall. “And yet you walked in and laughed and did things to me that…” Fucking affected me too much would have been right, but the rush of silence when he paused to take in a gasping breath squashed what remained on the edge of his tongue. It was a sharp silence, and the sound of his breathing was even sharper and the words echoing in his head were sharper still.
“You have no idea either,” he finished, weak, the measly remnant of a story of hurt and craven denial.
Gino had the bluest eyes in the world, but they appeared darker now, marred with a sort of pained expression he had never seen before. “If,” he started, voice soft, “if by doing these things then I can make a change, I will.” His eyes went past him, to the stark, patternless wall. “I would have you smile, I would have you laugh, and I would show you everything nice and beautiful that life can offer because I care,” he paused to catch his breath, and it was brittle, shaky. “I would have done everything, but only if you let me,” he finished quietly.
Suzaku fought against an instinct to bang his fist into the wall, again and again. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he gritted out.
Gino smiled at him, a sad little smile that did painful things to his stomach. “I doubt you know what I’m asking either,” he said, without real venom in his voice. It was followed with a few of blissfully blank seconds, and then, something so inordinately stupid that it stunned even the drifting of time.
“Do you like me?”
More than I…
Suzaku screwed his eyes shut. Honesty shouldn’t feel like this, yanking his heartstrings one by one, snapping them out of place. It was worse than lies. He was used to lies, but here, under that straight, earnest gaze, the mere thought of them brought him enough nausea to submit to the lesser of two evils.
He didn’t even know which was which until the answer fell from his lips.
A stupefied silence, and then a grin split Gino’s face, so bright that it would have put the Sun out of business had it lingered. “Really?”
Suzaku swallowed. His response had died before it was even born, if it had ever been there in the first place. Gino’s eyes were sharp when he noticed this and seized the chance to press on.
“And it scares you?”
“It’s supposed to,” Suzaku murmured, voice crawling into a whisper.
“Yes, it is,” his admission was quick and smooth. “But it’s also supposed to make you more happy than scared.”
He didn’t know, Suzaku felt the cold anger starting to boil, didn’t know the degree of pain of having a friendship – or was it love – stomped down and thrown away like an old, dirty, pairless shoe. There was no way he would put himself through that hell again, but Gino was kneeling in front of him and making love to his mouth, slow, intense strokes to his lips and tongue that blinded and robbed everything from him. Suzaku bit back a whimper, nails digging into the floor as he tried to maintain control and failed. He sat there and just accepted it and it would have been rape if it wasn’t making love.
You don’t fight back either, a voice laughed in the back of his head.
There was some kind of twisted amusement in his guts when the other pulled back and he discovered that the grin was neither as bright nor as genuine as it had been. Gino didn’t allow himself to touch him, both hands propping his weight against the wall, eyes intent on his face. Suzaku looked at anywhere but him, focusing on droplets of water dripping from the curling ends of wet blond hair. There were tears in the back of his eyes, and he found himself wishing that he could cry.
“Tell me what you want,” Gino’s voice was soft, comforting in front of his ears, and each word made him die a little inside.
“Stay away from me,” he bit out, clutching at the rancour in his voice. Gino smiled like he didn’t notice.
“I was going to say ‘except that’.”
Their breaths mingled and he could feel the heat from Gino’s body. He couldn’t escape, though there was a split of a second when he wondered if he really wanted to.
“Kiss me again.” The order sounded more like a plea, but he didn't care what he was becoming anymore, or how low he had sunk – and sinking still.
Gino steadily held his gaze. “Will you let me?” His lips were hovering inches from his own. Suzaku figured that he knew how it felt to have water dangled in front of your parched mouth, and know that it was poisoned.
One drop. It always began with one drop – and ended with it too.
“I always do,” he said and tilted his head, close enough to beg and tempt but not to touch.
A curl of a smile, though the eyes grew colder than ice. He expected a kiss, a touch, a glance, even a slap across his cheek, but Gino turned away and the sight of his back disappearing behind the shower curtain left him trembling violently in the grip of misery.
Illusions, the weak coward in him said. Somewhere deeper, he just knew that he never deserved it. Never deserved him.