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Dream that Ends Not in Death

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In his dreams, he walks down a long, narrow corridor.  Its walls are lined with stainless, shiny mirrors, the carpets beneath his naked feet smooth and clean.  Despite the corridor lacking visible sources of light, there is just enough illumination in his path that he can see the endless stretch of mirrored walls and carpeted floor.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even countless hours pass.  Now the carpets have been replaced by shined mirrors devoid of footprints.  The glass feels cold as ice against his bare feet but nevertheless, he keeps walking and walking.

He hears a sound; jingling of small objects.  He feels a small swing on the left side of his face.  Tap.  Tap.  Jingle.  Jingle.  Chime.  Breathe in.  Breathe out. The left side of his vision has been blocked out by a heavy piece of bejeweled fabric.  When he raises his hand to touch it, a voice in the back of his mind warns him not to.

“Why?” a man asks.  The voice startles him, causing him to spin left, where the voice came from.  His eyes dart away from his own reflection as if by instinct.

“Oh, you are scared?” the voice jeers.  It’s his own voice, he realises.  “That’s a first.  ‘I’ was never scared like ‘you’.”

“Reveal yourself,” he commands, his voice ringing with royal authority.

“But you’re scared of me,” the voice taunts.  “You’re even scared of ‘yourself’.”

“Who are you to speak of me that way?” he snaps.

“I know ‘you’ best, Julius Kingsley,” the voice purrs.  “Probably better than ‘you’ know yourself.”

The slyness that drips from the man’s voice rubs him all the wrong ways. 

“Only a coward plays his opponents with words,” he declares.

“You are calling me a coward?”  the voice muses.  “I think I am better than a man who lives as a lapdog of Britannia.”

The voice seems to be coming from the mirrored wall.  He turns to face the mirror and walks towards it. 

He stares into his own reflection.  His hand is raised to touch the side of his face, stroking one of his cheeks with the back of his gloved hand.  Straight, black hair falls down past his eyes, covering up his amethyst-hued eye as much as the silver-embroidered black eyepatch on his left eye.  One diamond-shaped amethyst hangs right below the eyepatch and two more dangle from the wide straps tied behind his left ear.  His black cape and black jumpsuit embossed with the Imperial sigil, accented in gold.

Despite the apparent beauty in his own appearance, he feels resentment.

 

Eyes as red as freshly spilt blood flash in his reflection.  Eyes, as in both of his eyes despite the fact that his left eye is covered.  The mirage of red eyes disappears as quickly as it appeared.

Fear grips his heart.  He must be going mad, seeing things where there are none. 

“Wouldn’t it be the worst?” the voice jeers.  “If one day you woke and see that ‘your’ face isn’t even your own?  That all of your life has been a prettied up farce?”

“Shut up!” he roars.  His head throbs, the pain as bad as though someone is hacking his skull open with a dulled axe.  He falls to the floor, fingers gripping his head.  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“To think that ‘you’ have turned into nothing but a weakling,” the voice sighs.  “I think I shall remedy that.”

He watches in horror as his reflection steps out of the glass and crouches down gracefully.  The reflection is no longer wearing the same outfit as he; he is garbed in dark purple costume of sorts with a cape flared out behind him.  The bottom half of his face is covered with a cowl.

“Poor, weak little Julius,” the man croons.  “You’ve been given the power you desired but you don’t have the freedom to use it as you wish.  Instead, you live contentedly under the guise of Julius Kingsley, the genius military advisor.”

What are you?” his voice shakes as bad as his hands, stretching out to reach the other man.

“What am I?” the man smirks.  “I am no one.  For now, anyway.  If you need a name to connect me to, call me Lelouch.  Lelouch Lamperouge.”

The name sounds familiar.  But he can’t figure out where he heard it before.

“Pitiful, really,” Lelouch murmurs.  He cradles Julius’ head to his chest.  The splitting pain in his head doesn’t show any signs of subsiding.  He rests his head on Lelouch’s chest, listening to his calm heartbeat. 

“Why . . . why am I here?” he mumbles.

“Because I wanted you here,” Lelouch answers.  “But it seems that my wishes had an adverse affect on your psyche.  Perhaps it’s better to let your own mind work this out.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Lelouch lifts his forefinger to his lips.  “As they say, it’s for me to know and for you to figure out, Julius.”

The way Lelouch says the words leaves him shivering.  His demeanor is sensual, seductive in the utmost dangerous way.

“Hmm?” Lelouch smirks.  “I didn’t think this would turn out this way.  I guess there’s a first for everything.”

Before Julius can figure out what is happening, Lelouch topples him over.  he traps both of Julius’s hand above his head and straddles him.  The way he rocks his hips causes their crotches to rub against each other.

“You don’t have to hold your voice back,” Lelouch whispers, leaning into brush his lips along the shell of Julius’ ear.  He kisses the spot behind Julius’ ear, followed by a trail of kisses that lead up to the corner of his lips.

“I—I don’t—”

The rest of his words are swallowed up as Lelouch kisses him roughly.  Keeping a coherent train of thought is impossible when Lelouch’s lips are relentless against his, continuously teasing and pleasing him in ways that he hadn’t thought possible.

By the time Lelouch draws back with a triumphant grin, he is more than half-hard in his tight jumpsuit.  Lelouch drags his fingertips down to Julius’ crotch from his collarbone.

“What do you want, Julius?” he purrs.  “Tell me and it shall be yours.”

Julius swallows hard.  What does he want? Clearly this is nothing more than a dream.  Should he dare to voice his wishes and give into his carnal desires?

“Touch me,” he says.

“Touch you how?”

Julius groans.  He grabs Lelouch’s hand and pulls it downwards, the palm pressed to his bulging crotch.

“What exactly do you wish for me to do, my lord?” Lelouch smirks, licking his lips in a decidedly feline manner.  Somehow the motion turns Julius on even more.

“Touch m-my cock,” Julius mutters.

“As you wish.”

Lelouch makes quick work of unzipping Julius’ jumpsuit and shucking it off his body in one fluid movement.  He bends over so that he can wrap his lush lips around the head of Julius’ cock.  Julius cries out when Lelouch sucks wondrously hard, his tongue poking at all the right places.  His hands stroke the inside of Julius’ thighs languidly, adding to the pleasure.

It’s embarrassing how fast Julius comes undone with Lelouch’s mouth on his cock.  Lelouch works him through his orgasm, milking out every last drop.

Julius feels boneless as he lies there on the cold mirrored floor. Lelouch looks at him with a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.

“You didn’t think that I’d be done with just that?” he questions, an eyebrow arched elegantly.

Julius gulps.  “There’s more?”

“Wow.  I didn’t think that the bastard would make you into a naïve fool.  Oh well, makes this all the more fun for me.”

Lelouch grabs Julius’ hand and drags it down to his ass.  He presses their twined fingertips to the rim of his hole.  “I’m going to fuck you here.  I guess ‘you’ haven’t done it with men.”

Julius feels his cheeks burn.  “O-of course not!  How can you speak of such things so carelessly?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Lelouch’s lips.  “It’s sex, not Refrain.  Sex is a natural part of life when you think about it.  And being taken by another man is so . . .  exhilarating; you’ve no idea how alive it makes you feel.”

“And I’m sure I can wait ‘til another day to discover it for myself.”

“Nope.”  Lelouch blocks of Julius’ escape.  “I’ve been waiting for you to find me.  There’s no way in hell that I’ll let you off so easily.”

Lelouch pushes Julius down and flips him over to his stomach.  It’s embarrassing to have his face down and his buttocks raised in this pose.  Not that he has the chance to feel the full weight of the embarrassment as Lelouch pushes the tip of his finger inside of Julius.  Julius gasps, not in pain but out of surprise.  It feels almost disorienting when Lelouch wiggles his finger inside further.  He can’t decide if it feels bad or good or just plain odd.

“Be patient,” Lelouch whispers.  His finger slides in completely.  At the same time, he curls it forcibly.  Julius feels as though someone gave him a light electric shock.  Whatever Lelouch just did felt kind of pleasurable. 

Lelouch does the thing again, and this time, Julius is sure that he is seeing tiny bursts of stars behind his eyelids.  His mouth falls open in a silent gasp.  What was that?

“You’ve so much to learn,” Lelouch purrs.  He sucks a bruise over where Julius’ pulse is racing.

Lelouch continues fingering Julius until his body is pliant enough for a second finger.  Julius’s back arches up when Lelouch crooks his fingers just right and scissors them.

“Lelou-Lelouch, I—I—” words are nearly impossible to utter when Lelouch has three nimble fingers working him open at a torturously slow pace.

“Yes?” he drawls, driving his fingertips into that deliciously sensitive spot.

“Mo—more.  I want—I need more,” he gasps out.

“More of what, exactly?”

“F-fuck me. . . please,” he moans.

Lelouch kisses him on the mouth lightly.  “Good boy.”

He rolls Julius over to his stomach and lines his cock up to Julius’ hole.  It occurs to Julius that Lelouch’s fingers were suspiciously wet earlier.  Whatever.  It’s all just a dream so logistics don’t apply.

Even if it’s a dream, it still is uncomfortable when Lelouch’s cock pushes inside.  Lelouch pauses after the initial push to let Julius adjust to the sensation, kissing the back of his neck and shoulders until he feels Julius’ body relax beneath his.  He pulls out a tiny bit before he rocks forwards again, this time until he is fully sheathed inside of Julius. 

This is ridiculous, Julius thinks.  He is basically getting fucked by himself.  But he can’t deny the fact that this dream feels amazing.

Case in point, Lelouch keeps the tempo of his hips at a constant, not too fast but not too slow either.  Julius soon grows impatient with the other man’s evident lack of haste and purely hedonistic laziness.

“Move!” Julius growls out.

Lelouch smirks.  He thrusts hard and stills his hips.  “I am moving.  I thought you could feel that.”  He scrapes the fingernail of his forefinger against Julius’ glans.  He lets out a helpless moan, having to bite it back so that he doesn’t feed Lelouch’s ego.

“Julius,” Lelouch purrs, lips tickling the sensitive skin on Julius’s pale, smooth throat.  “Hasn’t anyone taught you manners?”

Julius uses what little strength twist around so that he can face Lelouch and look into those violet eyes that are identical to his.

“Fu-fuck me harder,” he demands.

The corner of Lelouch’s mouth curls up.  “What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck m-me hard-der . . . please.”

“There we go.”

Julius cries out—loud enough for the sounds to bounce off the mirrored walls—as Lelouch fucks him harder and with more vigour than before.  He grabs the underside of Julius’s thighs and holds them around his waist, angling Julius’s hips so that he can reach that delightfully sensitive little spot more easily.

“Lelouch . . . I can’t—I, I’m gonna—” Julius babbles.

“Then come.  I told you not to hold back, haven’t I?”

Whatever response Julius had is held back by the loud enraptured cries that leave his lips instead.  Lelouch is all grins as he kisses Julius roughly.  There’s a splash of something hot inside and that’s how Julius figures that Lelouch has come too.

It feels oddly empty after Lelouch pulls out slowly.  A trickle of Lelouch’s semen flows out, causing Julius’ cheeks to heat up.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lelouch smirks.  He strokes the side of Julius’ face almost affectionately.  He frowns as if he just thought of something unpleasant.

“Real world is never fair,” he mutters. 

Before Julius has the chance to ask Lelouch what he meant, his vision greys out.

 

 

Julius’s eyes blink open, much to Suzaku’s dismay.  It seemed that the bastard was having a nightmare so being the good knight he was, he had thought to check up on ‘Julius’. 

“My lord, are you alright?” he asks, hating the formality that he has to put up with.

Violet eyes gaze at him aimlessly.  For a second, Suzaku sees a glimpse of the old Lelouch, bewitching and hauntingly beautiful.

“Kururugi,” he murmurs.

“Yes, sir.  I am right here.”

Thin arms shoot out and grab the front of Suzaku’s shirt and cape.  He is pulled downwards and due to the element of surprise, Suzaku falls right on top of Julius.

“Pardon me, sir, I—”

Suzaku is forced into silence as Julius surges up and crashes his lips against Suzaku’s in a clumsy fashion.  This version of Lelouch is even more inexperienced when it comes to all things sexual, it appears.  His tongue begs for entry against the tight seam of Suzaku’s lips.

‘You can’t, Lelouch—Sir Kingsley, I mean, we can’t do this,” he stammers.  He pushes himself away from Julius.

The young lord looks hurt and bewildered.  He soon regains his haughty expression.  He sits up, knees drawn up in an innocently inviting pose.  “Why not?  I can order you to do this with me, Sir Kururugi."

“It’s wrong, sir.  We shouldn’t do this,” Suzaku grits out.

Julius tilts his head to the side.  He stretches out his leg and rubs his foot against the growing bulge in Suzaku’s stupidly tight trousers.  “Then what is this that I feel against my foot, Kururugi?  You dare lie to me?”

He curses his body for remembering the touch, smell, and taste of Lelouch’s intoxicating body.  “That is hardly of importance, sir.”

“Ever the self-righteous knight, I see,” Julius purrs.  “I order you to fuck me, Sir Kururugi.  I think I’ll hardly be forcing you.”

He presses his toes right up against the head of Suzaku’s cock.  He flinches, giving Julius exactly what he wanted.

“Come on, now.  We don’t have to bore ourselves with our official business here,” Julius drags out his words, giving each syllable a sensual lilt.

“Sir . . .”

Julius rolls his eyes.  He slings his arms behind Suzaku’s neck and kisses him again.  Suzaku can’t think straight (but then again, when has he ever where Lelouch was concerned) when those lips whose taste and softness he missed are assaulting his.  Familiar nimble fingers roam his body before they undo the buttons and zips, baring Suzaku’s body for Julius’ eyes to drink in.

“I always knew that you had a magnificent body,” Julius comments.  He trails his hands down Suzaku’s chest, fingernails scraping Suzaku’s nipples.  “Seeing it naked is much better, although your knight uniform doesn’t do a good job of hiding it.”

“I’m glad the form of my body pleases you, my lord,” Suzaku says.

“I just may be in love with the shape of you,” Julius murmurs. 

Julius pushes Suzaku down and climbs on top of him, straddling his lap and making sure to line up the cleft of his ass to Suzaku’s crotch.  He crouches over Suzaku and kisses his sternum.  His eyes rake over his torso, marking each and every little scar that Suzaku bears.

“Your body has lived through so many horrors of the world,” Julius remarks, lips tracing the lines of those scars.   

“Such is the life of a soldier, sir,” Suzaku replies.  He has to bite back a loud moan when Lelouch closes his lips over one of his nipples and sucks on it tentatively.  There’s no way that ‘Julius’ remembers having sex with Suzaku as Lelouch . . .right?

“Kururugi,” he whispers, hand reaching behind him to stroke Suzaku’s erection through the clothes.  “I want you to sleep with me.”

“Lord Kingsley, that is way beyond my—”

Lelouch squeezes his fingers around the girth of Suzaku’s dick.  “I have all the authority that Britannia commands, Knight of Seven.  I think you will have to obey my orders with or without your willing attitude.”

Suzaku grits his teeth.  He hates his body for reacting to Lelouch’s body as easily as he had last embraced Lelouch only a few days ago as opposed to a few months.  Perhaps the deep, insatiable hunger in his heart was his yearning for Lelouch as he was cursed with an order to serve Julius Kingsley, a man with all of Lelouch’s brains and an ego and attitude hundredfold bigger than Lelouch’s.

“So,” Lelouch purrs, undoing Suzaku’s trousers and pulling them off Suzaku’s legs.  “Fuck me, Sir Knight.  And make it count.”

Suzaku glares up at Julius.  In his amethyst eyes, Suzaku can find lust, curiosity and something else that he cannot quite decipher.  The old Lelouch would have been more elegant in his methods of seduction.  He never asked Suzaku to fuck him as much as he made Suzaku burn for it so badly that he ended up ravishing Lelouch until the slighter boy couldn’t move a muscle.

This version isn’t too bad either.

Surprise flashes in those violet eyes as Suzaku grips Lelouch by his thin wrists and flips them around.  Lelouch cocks an eyebrow, keeping his legs bracketed around Suzaku’s hips.  Suzaku hasn’t been appreciative of the fact that Julius prefers to sleep in the nude up until now.  He doesn’t have lube on him but the overpriced tub of moisturiser on the nightstand will have to make do. 

Lelouch whimpers when Suzaku slips a crème-slick finger in his hole.  He wiggles his finger around, confirming that Lelouch hasn’t been letting off some steam this way.  He scatters tender kisses around Lelouch’s pale face and neck until his whole body relaxes into those kisses.  He applies a generous dollop to his fingers before he adds a second one.  At the same time, he aims his fingertips towards Lelouch’s abdomen, his fingernails scraping against Lelouch’s prostate.

“Th-there!” Julius cries out.  His arms wrap around Suzaku’s, clinging him as if letting go will be akin to falling from a cliff.  “I want more,” he rasps into Suzaku’s ear.

“As you wish, sir,” Suzaku mutters.  He rams all three fingers into the bundle of nerves, relishing in the waves of pleasured cries from Julius. 

This is like having sex with Lelouch for the first time all over again; only difference is that back then, everything was brand new and neither of them had good ideas about what was supposed to go where.  There first attempt at sex ended in clumsy hand jobs, second one at a really bad blow job on Suzaku’s part.  Months passed before Suzaku could even put his dick inside Lelouch (even then, he came in less than a minute from the nerves).

“Kururugi,” Julius moans.  “Fu-fuck me al-already.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, my lord,” Suzaku replies curtly, curling his fingers.  Lies, his own mind hisses.  He needs to suffer.  You want to see his face contort with pleasure and pain.

Suzaku shakes his head to himself.  Lelouch stares at him with frustration burning brightly in his eyes.  “Do I have to issue an order, Sir Kururugi?”

‘No, sir.”  He never realised how much of a turn-on it could be to be addressed in such a formal manner. 

He withdraws his fingers and scoops out more of the crème from the tub and slathers it onto his erection.  Hopefully this won’t cause problems for either of them down the road.  He turns Lelouch to his stomach and holds his hips up.  Lelouch goes along with the position willingly, which is not something that Suzaku would have expected from the prideful man.

“I’m gonna put it in now,” Suzaku warns.

“Less talking more fucking,” Julius snaps.

Suzaku rolls his eyes, complying nonetheless.  Julius is tight as hell, proving that Suzaku did rush through the prep.  He regrets that he stopped carrying around emergency condoms since—well, since Lelouch was revealed to be Zero and had his memories rewritten by the Emperor—a while ago.  Perhaps he should fall back into that habit.

Julius’ breathing is shaking and his entire body is as taut as a bowstring.  His shallow, gasping breaths don’t help at all.

“Breathe slowly,” Suzaku instructs.  He rests his hand over Lelouch’s racing heart and whispers, “Slowly in, two, three, four.  Out, two, three, four.  In, two, three, four.  Out, two, three, four.”

After a few minutes, the tension in Lelouch’s pale, unmarred body dissipates.  Suzaku waits an extra minute or so, kissing up and down the column of the white throat.  As an impulse comes over him, Suzaku bites down where Lelouch’s shoulder joins up with his neck and suckles the spot.  Lelouch cries out, his whole body jumping before it relaxes again.  Suzaku sucks harder, causing Lelouch to cry out again and his dick to twitch hard against his stomach.

“Did you like that, my lord?” Suzaku murmurs, lips grazing the newly forming bruise.  “You like it when I bite you?”  He snakes his tongue around the bruise, lips latching onto a new spot to suck a smaller hickey.

“Ah . . . Kururugi, no.  How insol—”

Suzaku pulls out and snaps his hips forwards immediately.  It is lovely to see Lelouch’s senses unravel like this again, more so because Lelouch had to ask for it.  He keeps up the uneven rhythm to his hips, all the while sucking a constellation of hickeys and leaving bite marks on Julius’ neck, shoulders, and back.  It’s a good thing that his uniform has a high collar that should hide the leftovers of their lo—sex.

This is only sex, Suzaku reminds himself.  He strokes Lelouch wet, dripping cock in tandem with the thrusts.  Two horny lads satisfying their physiologically-driven, natural needs.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Just sex.  A quick fuck.  An act borne of necessity.

“Su-Suzaku,” Julius croaks out, his voice all hoarse and roughed up.  “M-more.  I want more.”

“Lelouch!” Suzaku swallows back the name.  Instead, he answers ‘yes, my lord.’ 

He pulls out and flips Julius over to his back.  He grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and props up Julius’s hips.  Julius’ eyes are clouded with lust but they maintain their cold, calculative demeanor to them.  Julius moans wantonly as Suzaku enters him again, this time, not giving him time to catch his breath.  Suzaku shouldn’t drag this out any long than he has to.  This was a mistake.  He shouldn’t take advantage of Lelouch’s body when he not himself.

“Suzaku, I—” Julius moans.  His hands fly up behind Suzaku’s shoulders.  He really does look helplessly aroused as he rocks his hips meekly.

The young knight grabs Julius’s legs and pulls them up until the knees are next to Suzaku’s ears.  Julius all but screams out Suzaku’s name as he thrusts even deeper inside.  His precum is leaking out more steadily, smearing the sticky liquid all over his lower abdomen with each thrust from Suzaku.

Suzaku can tell that Lelouch is damn close.  So he presses his thumb on the slit on Lelouch’s cock as his thighs tense up.

“No!  Ugh, ngghh, ahh . . .” Lelouch moans, squirming in Suzaku’s hold.

“I’m not done yet,” Suzaku growls.  He leaves his thumb blocking Lelouch’s orgasm.  His beautiful face, wet with tears, twists with rage.

“Remove your hand!” Lelouch snaps, his tone all regal and furious.

“Sex should be about give and take, don’t you think?” Suzaku smirks.  He rubs the space between the head of Lelouch’s cock and the shaft with his index finger.  Lelouch’s mouth falls open in a silent scream.

“Mus-muscle-brained idiot,” he hisses after several moments.

“You never hated that about me before,” Suzaku blurts out.

Before Julius can inquire on that matter, Suzaku takes his hand away and fucks into Lelouch’s pliant body.  It shouldn’t be possible but the young prince looks even more exquisite when he is lost in rapture, face all red and cheeks shining with tears and sweat.  That is all it takes for Suzaku to finish as well.

Afterwards, Suzaku brings over a warm, damp towel to wipe Lelouch down.  If it were several weeks ago, Suzaku would have had no qualms about licking up the globs of semen painted on Lelouch’s stomach, which always led to a second round.  But now, now he can’t do that.  He must leave as soon as reason returns to Julius’ mind.

“That wasn’t so bad, Sir Kururugi,” Julius appraises.

“Uh, thank you, sir.”

Julius crosses his legs.  “Perhaps we should do this again.”

Suzaku gulps.  Julius doesn’t have to use Geass to get him to say the next few words.

He never has, and never will.