Author Note:

It... is... so weird, and yet so wonderful, to be thrust back into this, my favorite fandom. This was something I needed to write, just for the hell of it. I've watched so much Code Geass lately. And... I wanted to do this for my friends.

A bunch of them have started to watch Code Geass for the first time, at the same time. It's intense. On all sides, I'm reliving it through them. It's wonderful, to be exposed to that excitement from brand new perspectives. So, in thanks, you guys... have this.

For the readers who already know my work in terms of this amazing pair... I think you'll find this fic a little different. It's very, very, very close to canon. I even tried to capture all the different moods the show does, from hilarious to angsty, from adorable to dark. I have no clue if I succeeded.

It's just... whoa. It just feels good to write. Holy, holy, holy crap. Enjoy.

Lelouch held the phone furtively to his ear. "That's why I said, Ohgi, have P1—"

The locker door that led in from the Ashford gym flew open. Lelouch sealed his mouth at once. Someone had arrived.

He hung up his phone, annoyed, which made Ohgi yell words Lelouch just ignored. Zero's order would have to be postponed. Lelouch had calculated wrong, if a student was still wrapping up from class here.

Tch. Lelouch should have gone right outside. But he'd been tired, after running laps. To think his gym teacher had caught up to him, before lunch, to tell him his attendance was low. Lelouch hadn't cared, but gym class was the one grade he still struggled to uphold. Better to suffer once, today, than having to enroll in regular make-up classes that would steal from time as Zero. It didn't hurt, to run his laps one day, and spend time changing out of sweaty clothes.

Footsteps came around the lockers. Lelouch glanced down at his Ashford uniform. He'd reassembled himself by now, and appeared to be composed and unsuspicious. Good.

He made his way back to his assigned locker, pretending to have come out from the restrooms.

"Lelouch?"

"Suzaku!" Lelouch exclaimed.

Suzaku's Ashford uniform coat hung half off, draping across his head of tousled hair. The coat was moving in the wrong direction.

Suzaku didn't seem to mind.

"Gym class has ended," announced Lelouch. "Everyone just left. They all changed back into their clothes. There's no need to waste your time."

Suzaku didn't heed his words. He hung his coat neatly and smiled. "I came here for a make-up class. I've missed too much gym now, from being at work."

Lelouch blinked, and realized he should not have been surprised.

"Does a person like you even profit from gym?" he asked, leaning casually near his locker door. When Suzaku wasn't looking, he hid his phone inside it. "The military trains you much harder there, right?"

Suzaku made careful work of the buttons on his shirt. "That isn't the point, though, is it." Lelouch watched him turn and untuck the shirt's bottom, mindful of wrinkles he might need to iron. "It's about the discipline."

Lelouch allowed himself a smile. A wry one. "You're already disciplined."

Something caught his eye. An angry mark. A faded scrape across Suzaku's collarbone.

"You've been hurt," Lelouch intoned.

Suzaku glanced down at his chest. "Oh, that's old. It's already healed. Mostly, I guess. It was from—"

Lelouch maintained an even tone. "From?"

"When they thought I killed his highness, Prince Clovis." Suzaku looked at the ground, as if he were ashamed.

Lelouch's hand twitched, and his hatred boiled up. It had been almost two weeks, since the incident to which Suzaku referred. Britannia…. This was their fault.

Lelouch had known – and all too well – that his friend had been beaten while held and interrogated. But Suzaku, upon coming to school, had focused, and smiled, and put it behind. His body healed shockingly fast, as well. So, to see an injury still showed, that prompted all this pain to be recalled—

"It must have been an awful wound." He tried hard not to let his hatred show.

Suzaku shook his head. "It wasn't broken. My skin just bled. And now I'm fine."

Fine. Because Zero had set him free, and only because Zero had set him free. Otherwise, Suzaku would have been….

Lelouch allowed nothing to show on his face. Yet the longer he stood, as Suzaku undressed, the more he felt sourness churn in his gut. All the pain Britannia had caused Suzaku… and Lelouch had been too caught up in his secret work to help him heal.

"Your body can recover," Lelouch replied, "but that's no reason for you to brush it off."

"Okay, okay," Suzaku said. He stopped his task and met Lelouch's eye. A moment passed. Suzaku fidgeted.

Lelouch realized Suzaku was being shy.

"Are you going to stand there while I…?" Suzaku trailed off.

Suzaku had never been like this, in years before.

"No," Lelouch told him, maintaining his calm. "I'm sorry. I can turn around." He did so, hearing Suzaku sigh. The gentle shift of fabric made Lelouch fold his arms. He frowned. "You aren't hiding anything, are you?" he asked.

Suzaku's careful movements were worrying him. Did Suzaku conceal, perhaps, an injury much greater?

"Hiding?" Suzaku asked. His voice rose. He groaned. "I should have known you would catch me, Lelouch."

Lelouch had to use discipline he wasn't good at, not to turn around.

"I'm trying hard to hide a million yawns." Suzaku's locker door rattled; he'd bumped it. "Don't tell the teacher. My week has been long."

A pang ran through Lelouch's chest. Long, because…. Because, of course, of Zero. Zero had been moving, so Suzaku's side would respond. The military would be ever-ready, on its toes.

"I'm sorry you're so tired," murmured Lelouch. His guilt became regret, and then – because Lelouch loathed to regret his decisions – regret became a curiosity, instead. If Zero was the cause of weariness, of any pain in Suzaku's life, wasn't it his responsibility, then – Lelouch's – to ensure that everything could be made right? If he could right this for his friend, there wouldn't be a need for Lelouch to regret his own actions.

He needed to find out whether Suzaku had more bruises. Lelouch glanced at Suzaku's reflection in one of the gray locker doors, out of the corner of his eye.

He ceased to truly think, as he took in what he saw.

Tense, but very muscled shoulders. Tanned, broad, and angular above his exposed back. His waist appeared narrower than Lelouch thought. He wondered if Suzaku had been eating right.

Bare. Suzaku's appearance was bare. Britannia had taken Suzaku apart, and bared him, in this too-intimate way – so they could strap him up in prison.

Lelouch swallowed. He noticed no more injuries.

"Sorry," said Suzaku, "I'll be just a sec. My shoes are— uwah!" He almost fell down.

"Take your time." Lelouch's mind raced. Suzaku…. He should have been too balanced, too much full of stamina to trip. Even if he claimed that he was tired….

What if he was injured in the leg somewhere, or in the knee? What if Orenji – what if Jeremiah Gottwald – had made him crippled, dragging Suzaku to his execution?

No, no. Suzaku wasn't that hurt. Britannia would throw a cripple out of the military at once. Especially a Japanese one. No one liked the Numbers now.

"Aren't you going to take off your pants?" Lelouch didn't care that now Suzaku knew he was looking.

Suzaku pivoted, and Lelouch turned around. They looked at each other across the fat aisle. Green eyes had slipped very wide.

"No," Suzaku said. "I was going to run in them. I'm only going back to my barracks, after this. And besides…."

"Besides?" prompted Lelouch. His gaze drifted down Suzaku's sleek lines. He caught himself and stopped, but his determination thrived.

He needed to know if Suzaku was hurt. To get him undressed seemed to be the best way.

"Milly has everyone on lookout," Suzaku said. He very nearly pouted, and Lelouch let his arms drop.

"The president?"

"Yes. So I've got to be careful. It's kind of a pain, but she has good intentions."

Lelouch found himself grow annoyed.

What did the student council president have to do with what was under Suzaku's clothes? Lelouch started to filter through his options in his mind. Whatever Milly wanted wasn't relevant right now.

He could tell Suzaku there was a rule – that students had to run in their gym shorts all the time. Ah, but Suzaku wouldn't be fooled by that. If he had taken make-up classes like this one before, he must have run at least once without his shorts. What about when he came directly from work, and didn't always fully change out of his military gear? No, no, there should be something else.

"Um, Lelouch?" Suzaku asked.

Lelouch pressed fingers to his head, shielding his face as he concentrated. Bribe. There must be a bribe he could use. But Suzaku's straight-laced personality wouldn't accept that, would it. He could tell Suzaku instead there was something else at stake. Nunnally would look down on them, if they didn't dress properly going to school.

Or maybe Lelouch could ask to borrow Suzaku's pants. Yes, he could lie – and say he'd found a hole in his own. He'd say, I'll have Sayoko mend them by dinner, and then you can come get yours. I'll wash them. We can eat with Nunnally. Then, if Suzaku did reveal an injury beneath his Ashford pants, Lelouch would have a good excuse to make him stick around. Sayoko could treat Suzaku, before he left again for the—

No. Suzaku would have to leave directly after class. The military assigned him a curfew at night. The cost of missing that, for an Eleven especially, could land him a beating much worse.

"Lelouch, I should go start my class…."

Lelouch made a dissatisfied noise, deep in the back of his throat. Ridiculous. How could he fail to come up with a plan?

Suzaku was tucking his white shirt away. Lelouch resisted the urge to hit a locker, in his growing blaze of temper. He couldn't let Suzaku go, without providing him with help. He wanted Suzaku to keep in perfect health….

Lelouch's frustration at once knew no bounds. He'd get Suzaku to look at him. Eye contact. Then, he'd say—

What would he say? He'd say, Take off your clothes? No. Even worse! Lelouch grit his teeth and pressed his face into his palm. He would never use the Geass on Suzaku anyway, and even if he did, it wouldn't be in such a fashion. Breaking Suzaku's will by force was not a sin that Lelouch wanted to accept. Ever.

Suzaku flexed his arms. He stretched them out over his head. His torso rippled when he moved.

The ripple effect echoed itself in Lelouch's stomach; something fluttered. Damn it. Damn it. He only had one option left.

He'd have to go the direct route. Suzaku would forgive him, wouldn't he?

"Well, Lelouch, have fun in math. You're going there next, right?"

This was all Suzaku's fault, for coming in and taking off his shirt. Lelouch's thoughts would not have travelled here. He braced himself for what he had to do.

"Don't just walk away, Suzaku Kururugi!" Lelouch used his deeply commanding, hard voice.

Suzaku paused. He paused and turned around, appearing troubled at the echo that voice caused. Like Zero's? Lelouch slightly lifted his tone. He'd be careful. He took a pace forward.

He advanced, keeping his expression strict, but he couldn't help the faint flush that he knew tinted his cheekbones. "Don't begin to strip," he cried, "unless you are prepared to be stripped yourself!"

"What?"

Cornelia could have burst in, with her knight Guilford, both of them in bikinis; Suzaku would not have reacted at all. His gaze was only for Lelouch – a gaze that was vacant but vaguely appalled. Lelouch registered that perhaps, Suzaku had never been this surprised in his whole life.

Perfect, then. Lelouch latched on to him.

"Ngh—ah! L-Lelou-aaaaAAGH!" Suzaku flailed his arms, trying to keep Lelouch away.

Lelouch's dark hair swung into his eyes. He tossed it aside so he could see, the better to grip Suzaku's belt buckle. A short scuffle displaced his feet, and he stumbled, but still held on.

"It's rude!" Lelouch continued, fighting rigidly with Suzaku's hands. "You can't start something like this and then stop!"

"I-I can't take off my clothes for gym?! Ah—! Lelouch, don't put your hands there!"

"Nngh, you—" Lelouch grunted, darkly, undaunted. "Stop getting in my way, Suzaku!"

Lelouch flung Suzaku's belt aside. In a flopping arch, it sailed into a locker. Suzaku watched it leave – while flushing hot, looking completely mortified.

"Show yourself to me," Lelouch commanded. He yanked Suzaku's pants straight down.

The resulting shout and the tumble of limbs careened them into a bystanding bench. They lost balance; gravity claimed them as one. The floor felt cold, when Lelouch splayed his hands on it to catch himself. He'd barely saved himself a broken nose.

Suzaku had failed to fare so well. His pants, around his ankles, roped his feet together. He said, "Ouch…."

Lelouch, above, looked down on him. The man he'd wanted to lay bare now lied exposed. But not a mark. Not a mark – on Suzaku's long, lean thighs, not on his knees… no lashes on him anywhere. Just a few old scars that Lelouch found, shining almost wetly in the high, florescent lights.

Lelouch ignored the way their breathing mingled. Suzaku had not been hurt. He could relax.

Then Lelouch realized there was one further profit to be had. Revelations might be found, in this dizzy mix-up, regarding an age-old question that Lelouch had wanted answered.

Curiosity took hold and reigned.

He trailed his gaze to Suzaku's hips, to find out which garment it was.

"Annoying," Lelouch muttered instantly. A combination? That was cheating. "Boxer-briefs?"

Suzaku's bright eyes looked overblown. He didn't move a muscle – just stayed splayed on his back. "They're right for any unplanned situations."

Lelouch said "tch," and glanced aside.

"Sp-speaking of which, Lelouch, was it your plan to end up straddling me this way?"

They both stared down again, at the same time; Lelouch's bangs brushed Suzaku's pinkened cheeks. Attention flew to Lelouch's spread legs. Their positioning…. It—

"Aahh!" Lelouch twisted aside.

It was compromising and explicit.

He backed off in a swift retreat, the speed of which he hoped he'd never have to use as Zero – but his heel got caught behind Suzaku's knee.

Lelouch registered a yelp of protest – or concern – but it failed to fully reach him. Instead of rolling off Suzaku, his head met his own locker door. A sharp report like a Knightmare Frame's fire echoed to the ceiling. And it hurt.

Lelouch rubbed his head. "D-damn it…." He shouldn't have been so determined to win. And now, thanks to his stubborn haste, Suzaku would think—

No, ignore the implications.

Lelouch wondered immediately if the bump would make his Zero mask sit wrong. If the mask went even a little askew, during battle, or during a speech…. Someone might see. And learn. And then—

"—to hurt yourself." Suzaku spoke to him.

The shirtless soldier had climbed up. He looked as fresh and as innocent as a newly opened flower. When had he managed to pull his pants back on?

Lelouch registered Suzaku's hand, extended to him. He frowned, but he took it. Thank god this was over. Not even C.C. could make chaos like that.

"It's okay, Lelouch," Suzaku said. "I think I know the best way to repay them, for making you launch an assault."

"Them?" Lelouch echoed, his mind a great blank. It blanked again at the word choice. Assault?

Lelouch decided bravely that the humiliations he suffered at school – caused in part by himself, no doubt, and his preoccupation as Zero – were possibly not worth even his newly acquired and righteous Black Knights.

Suzaku pulled him up, and now they stood against the wall. He tried not to let his eyes flick to bare skin.

"The student council," Suzaku said. "They started this."

"Y-yes," Lelouch managed. Of course, some sort of plot. He'd use it for his cover. Regain dignity. Right now. "It's so much like the president. I'm sure it's all her fault."

Suzaku nodded, seriously. "Mmn." His smooth brow creased. He had an earnest, probing stare.

Lelouch looked down at himself next, and at his ruffled clothes, feeling sloppy and self-conscious. Suzaku said, "We'll let them know, just to be fair – and then request that they destroy all the data. No one else will find out, then."

"Right." Lelouch used his commanding voice. Then he faltered. "Let them know… what?" Suzaku, corrupting data? Such—

Suzaku drew up very close. His hand still wrapped Lelouch's own. Lelouch had not bothered yet to let go. He backed up so his heels touched wall, mortified to find himself being boxed in.

"You wear briefs," Suzaku said, the wisp of his breath sending suggestion ghosting past Lelouch's ear.

Lelouch turned crimson in degrees. He started trembling. "S-S-S-Suzaku!"

He flinched, to shove Suzaku away, but Suzaku had already gone. He was doubled over, chuckling.

Lelouch now tingled. Chuckling hard. This grim and stoic Britannian soldier? The one to cause him so much pain since he had denied Zero, and returned to face his charges? Would Suzaku dare to act rashly again, and throw out his own life for what he believed?

When had Suzaku learned to do things recklessly? To whisper near Lelouch's ear….

The wash of reality, in half a second, cleared Lelouch's palate completely. His cheeks cooled. He recomposed. He fixed his coat sleeves, one at a time.

"It isn't funny, Suzaku," he said. "If the president is involved somehow in the private matter of our underwear, we have to get the worst revenge." He smoothed his collar, tracing the fleur-de-lis.

"No we don't. Revenge is wrong."

Suzaku straightened, finally, and wiped away his laugh. His gaze still sparkled like two emeralds, while Lelouch simply looked at his friend with a frown.

"I guess this means the game is over now," Suzaku went on. "And so, like I said, we can just erase data. The game was to find out the student council's preferences and report them, and you were the last one on the list. The points were supposed to go to whoever figured out a preference first... ah, but—"

"Preferences?"

"In underwear. Shirley likes blue pairs, I guess. And Rivalz wears boxers. I think they have stripes…."

Lelouch's eyebrow slowly ticked. While Suzaku carried on, he ground his teeth.

"…ah, but Arthur is a cat. He doesn't wear anything. Do you suppose fur counts, Lelouch, for Arthur's preferences?"

Suzaku was an idiot. An idiot, an idiot….

Lelouch rolled his hand in a fist. "So your plan," he replied, "after I stripped your clothes, was to strip me back, so you could know what I preferred? And then you'd betray it, to the president."

"Except I didn't need to go that far," Suzaku replied. "Because I could already guess what you wear." The glint in his eyes had become a bit deep. It said, And I confirmed it after the look on your face.

Lelouch regulated his breaths. He couldn't maim Suzaku, for a simple thing like this. "Guessing people's underwear is not a skill to advertise," he advised, with the intention of walking away. Finally.

"Stripping people senseless in the locker room's not, either."

Lelouch's fist fell open, and he started to reply, but suddenly a smile smug with payback twisted up his mouth.

"'Senseless?'" He made sure to purr. "How flattering, Suzaku." Dark.

"Yeah. You really caught me off guard," Suzaku said, the barb of innuendo passing sweetly by. "Not even the army can actually—uwaaagh!"

Lelouch sprung and seized Suzaku's waist, yanking on one belt-loop of his freshly-donned black pants.

"I'll do it again," Lelouch replied, ignoring that surely his expression waxed maniacal. Furious, brimming with vengeance, and flustered. "This time I'll take pictures, and the president can keep it in her personal file!"

"That's— Lelou—! Ah, aah! D-don't!"

"I said 'don't strip,' to you, didn't I, Suzaku… unless you were prepared to be—"

"—stripped!" He knew. "But that's the line that I'm supposed to use on you! Y-you can't strip others unless you know you'll be stripped back…." Suzaku spun them, and came out the barrier that plastered Lelouch to the wall, again.

Lelouch's coat was pulled away. He yelled.

"Mmffgh—" Suzaku held him down, despite Lelouch's windmill arms. "I'm doing what you said! You should follow your own rules."

"You're not being fair, just relying on your brawn!" Suzaku's warm and supple hand slid down Lelouch's abdomen. It caused a melting hitch of breath that nearly stopped his heart. He thrashed.

They left the wall; they needed room.

The locker room door hissed open, at the same time one of the benches went over. A resounding crash drowned out their shouts.

For the second time, Lelouch rubbed his head, but this time he looked up from on his back.

His white Ashford dress shirt clung to him, damp. Its buttons gaped open, falling askew. Suzaku's hand rested near his skin, fisted tightly in the article of clothing.

"Oh my," Lelouch heard. He cursed.

Suzaku's thigh pressed close between his legs. Lelouch's heart was pounding, hard. He wet his lips, and closed his mouth, to mask his light pants of exertion. Curse Suzaku's prime physique….

Milly folded both her arms beneath her ample chest, as if she knew the movement added somewhat to the debauched tone. "Oho~! Suzaku, you've done well, to catch the last one on our list."

Footsteps thudded down the hall. Shirley, Kallen, and Rivalz came to flank her.

"Now let's all see what our vice president wears!"

Shirley yelped. "B-b-but! Lelou—"

"Hah," said Rivalz, "Hey Lelouch, does this make you a bottom guy?"

"I'll kill you, Rivalz," Lelouch murmured, while Kallen said demurely, "It seems a bit too harsh, to expose someone here."

Suzaku withdrew his hands, and Lelouch finally breathed, but the pressure on his hips did not let up. Suzaku still hovered over Lelouch, but now, perhaps, it was a bit protectively. Lelouch stared at Suzaku's profile from the ground.

His friend said flatly to Milly Ashford, "Ms. President, removing someone's clothes without consent is wrong."

"Ehh?! So you won't do it, after all?" Milly hid her grin behind a hand.

"I humbly decline to strip Lelouch."

Suzaku bowed. Lelouch noted the soft curve of his ear.

Lelouch remained a victim, limp, too shocked to wriggle out from underneath his friend. His flush came back, and he wished he had more strength. "You say that now, you hypocrite," he rasped, "but a moment ago…."

"It was all in fun, Lelouch." Suzaku's countenance had wiped itself blank, in a surprising display of self-possession and control. He offered Lelouch a hand up. Lelouch couldn't analyze Suzaku's pacific tone.

Was it possible… that Suzaku also felt—? And had, right now, to pretend it wasn't there?

Lelouch paled. He backed away a step.

Don't. Deny the implications.

Deny them… or make sure that Suzaku joined the Black Knights, at any cost, and very soon. Lelouch caught himself thinking it, and wondered if the Geass made him madman-crazy. What kind of will would Lelouch have to bend, to procure loyalty from someone so opposed to Zero's rule? Suzaku would choose Britannia, even if that choice killed him….

Fool.

Lelouch took in his friend with sharper eyes. Suzaku fetched his shirt back from his locker, glancing at the clock. Too late now, for his make-up class?

Suzaku covered himself again before the student council. Lelouch's fingers twitched, watching Suzaku move.

"I guess that's that, then." Milly sighed. "I'm sorry, Shirley. Now you'll never know—"

"A-ah! WAAAH—!" Shirley seized the nearest item – Lelouch's rumpled gym shorts, from his locker that still hung open – and stuffed it in the president's face.

Kallen made a choking noise. Rivalz, stricken, said, "That isn't kosher." The blue-headed boy followed them when Shirley shoved Milly back in the hall. "H-hey, Shirley! The prez has to breathe…."

"Your shorts, Lelouch," Suzaku said, stunned, while everybody swiftly left. Lelouch didn't reply anything back.

Kallen, the last one there, looked between the two of them. Lelouch, happy to focus his attention somewhere else, thought he detected a blush tint her cheeks.

"What's the matter?" he asked, making it mild. He hoped this had helped Kallen kill her suspicions that he'd been at Shinjuku, and might be linked to Zero. Terrorists – rebellion leaders – didn't engage in locker room brawls.

"Please be more appropriate at school," Kallen said, and slammed the door behind her as she left.

For one long moment, not a word was said.

Lelouch looked up, eventually, and found Suzaku smiling. A deep and emerald field of sunshine. Endless breeze. That was Suzaku's eyes. Lelouch tried not to end up lost.

"Learned your lesson?" Suzaku asked. He was trying to joke, but the tone came tentative.

Lelouch realized what they had done. Juvenile messing around, a game, that had bordered too close to a shocking attraction. And an attraction….

If it really was that, Lelouch vowed, he'd take the burden on himself. Suzaku didn't need to know, or need to think about it, or bear that weight himself.

Lelouch said, choosing a light, constructive tone – one that harked back to their years at the shrine, and told Suzaku firmly that nothing had changed – "I learned my strip skills should be faster next time."

Suzaku appeared taken aback. Then he laughed. He told Lelouch he had to get back to the military ground.

Lelouch walked his friend to the gold Ashford gates, and didn't move until Suzaku's distant form was gone.

He traced his burning Geass eye. "I'll find a way to strip you – of Britannia, Suzaku," he murmured. "Deny Zero for now. But, to get you on my side…. Perhaps I'll lay you very bare, so that you're mine… and then that man, my father, won't be able to take more from me."

C.C. came around from the bushes to the side. "Oh?" she cooed. "Did something happen with your boy?"

Lelouch shot her an acrid glare over his nose. But he didn't scold her for being outside. He merely watched her pick a strand of pizza cheese out of her vivid hair.

"Isn't it nice, thinking love might devour fate? It's usually the other way around," C.C. replied. Her voice drifted from light to dark. "Be careful, if you're pressing him, Lelouch."

"C.C., don't pretend you know the bounds and limits of my friendship with him. What I do doesn't affect the things he wants. I can only save his life right now, not change his mind." He tried to deny that the truth of it stung.

But he had time yet, to work it all out. He had time.

He walked across the lawn, to tell Sayoko to start making Nunnally's dinner.

"Hmm?" said C.C., to the sky. "It seems you might be right about that. Lelouch is the one getting stripped, in the end. He doesn't like to be denied." The breeze rustled the leaves nearby. "Don't tell me, you think he's not prepared? Well then, what was all his talk about back there? Don't shoot or strip, unless you're prepared…."

"Hurry up, C.C.," Lelouch called.

Together they went back inside.