Author's Note: This is another one for the cg_kinkmeme over on LJ. I swear I do 80% of my writing for that place! If you're reading these and you haven't checked it out yet, come over to my profile for the link. It's a great place to request and write and read interesting new fic challenges in the community, but it's slowing down and could really use an injection of fresh blood. And who knows, if you request something over there and I like your prompt, you might get a fic from me! Anyway, some of my very favorite fics for CG were written for that post, so go check it out!

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Best Laid Plans

Sometimes, when he's sure Lelouch isn't looking, he follows the graceful lines of his throat with his eyes, skimming the cool, creamy skin until it disappears beneath the tall, stern collar of his uniform. He imagines tracing the same line with the tip of his tongue. He watches Lelouch's fingers tap impatiently against the desktop as the teacher rambles on; he wants to gather that thin wrist in both of his hands and start at the pad of the index finger, biting and sucking until even Lelouch can't deny the implications of the move. Lelouch yawns, flexing one hand smoothly to cover his boredom with a casually flamboyant twist of a hand, and Suzaku imagines biting those lips until they part, red, sore, and slick, to let out a breathy moan. He's got to face it: he's got it bad.

Maybe it's the sway of those hips as the prince walks in front of him, enthusiastically chattering about this or that thing that Nunnally did this morning. Maybe it's the way those school trousers tighten over his ass when he crouches to retrieve a dropped folder. Maybe it's the way his thighs clench when he rocks forward to reach the ones that have escaped. Maybe in the end it's just that Suzaku is seventeen-aggressively seventeen-and in the throes of a dry spell the likes of which he hasn't experienced before when he was in the army and always surrounded by pretty girls and pretty boys unplagued by Lelouch's almost desperate sense of virginity. He hasn't gotten laid in months, and for some strange reason it comforts him to know that this lust-this uncontrollable lust that leaves him touching himself furtively in his bed at night at only the barest memory of silky black hair and wry smile-is only the worst case of blue balls he's ever had.

Lelouch coughs, and even that is musical. Suzaku hums to acknowledge him before coming back to himself with a sharply curious look from his friend. "Is something wrong?" Lelouch asks almost peevishly, and Suzaku realizes that Lelouch has the papers massed messily in his hand. He's been so busy staring at Lelouch's ass and thinking about jacking off that he hasn't helped him at all. His cheeks flush.

"Sorry. I've been lost in thought lately," Suzaku tells him lamely, accepting the papers to arrange them into some sort of neat stack.

"I might have noticed," Lelouch retorts with a slow grin. "Nunnally's out shopping with Sayoko. Why don't you come over?"

Suzaku blinks, blush deepening as he imagines his friend propositioning him. "Wha-" he squeaks, then starts over, "What did you have in mind?"

"You could come for dinner and stay over after. I'm cooking, since they'll be home late," Lelouch offers, and Suzaku is wracked with a sudden fantasy of Lelouch covered in chocolate sauce. 'I seem to have made a little mess,' Dream Lelouch purrs, and suddenly, though quite unsurprisingly, Suzaku is already at half mast. Movement drags him from fantasy as Real Lelouch cocks his head, brow raised. "Earth to Suzaku. Do you have work or something?"

"Uh, yeah. That sounds really good," Suzaku stammers. "I mean, no, I don't have work. I'd love to come over."

"It's settled, then," Lelouch says decisively, and Suzaku smiles, stomach roiling. "Give me about half an hour to shower and then you can come over and help me cook."

Suzaku watches him go, helpless at the sight. He's so riled up his fingertips twitch by his thighs, and when Lelouch finally disappears around the corner, he groans, pressing one hand to his eyes to dull the throb, and the other against his crotch for the same reason. A shower sounds great right now, and he finds himself propped against the wall with one hand between his teeth to muffle his moans as the other slides on slick skin until, with a desperate whimper, he comes in a thoroughly unsatisfying splatter, Lelouch's name on his lips.

When he gets out, he realizes his orgasm must have taken longer than he thought, and he arrives at Lelouch and Nunnally's suite of rooms with damp hair still curling at the edges, offering an apologetic fistful of flowers to an irritated prince.

"Dinner's already done," Lelouch sniffs, but steps aside to let him in. One disdainful eye peers from beneath lowered lids to survey the flowers. His lips twitch. "Did you steal those from our front yard?" he asks, and Suzaku bites his lip, busted.

"The sciences building," he confesses, and Lelouch laughs outright.

"You didn't have to. This isn't a date or anything," Lelouch says, even as he opens the cupboard to find a vase and arrange the flowers in its tall glass length. "Nunnally will love them, though. Thank you."

"I thought I'd take a shower," Suzaku blurts. His eyes are trained on the artistic arch of those fingers as Lelouch plucks the leaves into place. Lelouch blinks at him slowly. "Before I came," Suzaku continues, almost wincing at the word choice. "I didn't mean to be late, but-"

"It's okay," Lelouch tells him. He can tell he means it. "You can help me set the table."

Dinner goes well. He can pretend simple friendship, laughing with Lelouch over stories of the Student Council's antics and getting slightly tipsy on the wine from dinner until the clock strikes nine. Nunnally has come and gone to bed, and Lelouch is slumped slightly against his arm as they watch TV together, neither particularly paying any attention. Suzaku's attention is riveted to the sleepy way Lelouch's lashes flutter over his cheeks and the soft puffs of breath on his arm. He swallows hard and nudges his friend.

"Time for bed," he suggests, and Lelouch frowns. "You were sleeping."

"Was not," Lelouch mutters, but he stands, stretching languorously like a cat. "Fine. If you just can't stay awake any longer, we'll go to bed." Suzaku chuckles, ignoring Lelouch's halfhearted moue of irritation to follow him to the prince's bedroom. Lelouch bars his way with a blush. "Where are you going?"

"I thought we were going to share your bed?" Suzaku offers tentatively. "We always have before."

"Well," Lelouch splutters. "Well, yes, but I haven't changed yet!"

Suzaku shrugs. "It's not like it matters."

"It does to me!" Lelouch protests, and Suzaku is suddenly aware of a bigger problem. When Lelouch uses his distraction to dart into the room, he covers his eyes with his hand and remembers exactly where his own pajamas are: on his bed, folded neatly in a bag. He'd missed them in his rush to get out the door, forgotten entirely as he'd considered the prince's irritation at his late arrival. It's on the other side of town, now, and he has to choose between doing without or going home for them, knowing he probably won't make it back tonight. "Is something wrong?" Lelouch asks, and Suzaku's eyes pop open to see him in the doorway, dark silk making pale skin glow.

He licks his lips, makes up his mind. "I forgot my pajamas at home."

Lelouch plucks at his own pajamas with a slight frown. "I don't think I have anything that will fit."

"I doubt it," Suzaku agrees. "I'll just sleep in my shorts." Lelouch shrugs, stepping aside, as Suzaku shrugs off his shirt. When Suzaku's hands hover over the clasp of his pants, Lelouch turns away, cheeks dusted with a high line of pink. By the time Suzaku's undressed, Lelouch has curled on the bed, blankets pulled virginally to his chin. "Scoot over," Suzaku instructs, lifting the edge of the blankets to crawl in after.

The world under the blankets is impossibly warm, heated by Lelouch's body heat and the heavy down quilt on top. His arm brushes against the small of Lelouch's back as they squirm to find a comfortable position for two on the narrow bed and the silk is body-warmed, too, smooth and sensual against his bare skin. He finally huffs, throwing an arm around his friend to still his movement before moving closer. "Just be still," he says, and miraculously his contrary friend complies.

It's a mistake, he knows. He knows it the minute his fingertips brush the warm skin of Lelouch's abdomen where his shirt has ridden up. He knows the minute his nose nuzzles its way into fine black strands, the absolute second he feels Lelouch's firm ass bump across his cock and realizes that he can feel his heartbeat in the head. Lelouch squirms again, but he doesn't say anything as Suzaku's fingers curl to gently stroke his knuckles against his stomach. The clean smell of him is intoxicating, all expensive shampoo and cheap soap and warm boy. Suzaku sniffs his way down the back of Lelouch's neck almost compulsively, only freezing behind his ear when Lelouch's amused voice wavers back to him. "What are you doing?"

"You smell good," Suzaku mumbles, lips moving against his skin as he talks. His tongue darts out to taste the air between them, and Lelouch squirms again.

"You just licked me," he accuses fondly, rolling over to face his friend with a raised brow. Suzaku blushes.

"You taste good, too," Suzaku tells him impishly. Lelouch stares at him. His skin is so pale and luminescent in the light coming in from the window; Suzaku brushes the tip of his nose down the side of Lelouch's face and throat to press a kiss to the ridge of a clavicle exposed by the dark silk. When he draws back, he remembers that this isn't fantasy, that it's really happening. His heart skips at Lelouch's stern look.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Lelouch asks bluntly, and heat rushes into Suzaku's ears.

"Is it working?" he asks playfully. Lelouch doesn't budge. "May I? Seduce you?" Suzaku asks almost plaintively, tongue darting out to collect the last taste of Lelouch's skin from his lip. Lelouch's dark eyes follow it, and suddenly the taste is being sucked away by Lelouch's tongue and lips, and he is lost.

They roll together on the narrow bed until Lelouch is poised above him eyeing the bulge barely contained and certainly not hidden by Suzaku's simple cotton shorts. He touches it curiously, a wicked smile curling his lips at the edges when Suzaku makes a needy sound. Lelouch bows then, arching over him like a spider over his prey to whisper in his ear. "You may." Then his hand is beneath taut cotton and his breath is on his face and his tongue is in his mouth and he is drowning.

They kiss as Lelouch fumbles at a hand job, those elegant fingers curling to tease around his length in the tight, sweaty confines of the fabric. Suzaku starts when he realizes he can feel him, hot and hard and heavy with blood and arousal against his leg. He clenches a hand around a hip to press him closer, reveling in the shudder that wracks Lelouch's frame as he finally makes full contact. The prince makes a keening sound when Suzaku palms him through the fabric, twisting to roll to the side and shuck his pants. His erection wags unselfconsciously in the air, but Lelouch's cheeks are red when Suzaku looks at him.

"Stop gawking and touch me," Lelouch commands, and Suzaku grins, plucking open the buttons of the silk nightshirt until he all he can see is miles of pale, smooth flesh. The hair that curls around the base of Lelouch's cock is a gorgeous contrast to the thin white skin of his abdomen and the ruddy flush of his erection. Suzaku draws his thumb across his tongue and wipes the moisture on the head, and Lelouch's eyelashes flutter. He sucks his middle finger into his mouth, and Lelouch purses his lips in confusion. "What are you-?"

"I…you don't have anything," Suzaku hedges around the delicate issue of dry penetration. "It'll hurt if I don't."

Lelouch rolls his eyes, patting Suzaku's thigh for him to move before flipping onto his side. He rifles through the nightstand a minute before producing a narrow bottle that makes Suzaku blush. It's only half-full. "If you thought you were going to stick your fingers up my ass with just spit on them, you've got another thing coming," Lelouch tells him haughtily, and he blinks down at him, knocked off track by the mental image of Lelouch sitting in this very bed, legs spread wide as he fingers himself. He's shocked out of it by the touch of something cool and slippery dipping into the back of his boxers. Lelouch is in almost to the third knuckle by the time he realizes what's going on.

"I-" he moans as Lelouch twists his wrist and shuffles his shorts down until his own unrepentant cock hangs between them enthusiastically. "I didn't think you-" he tries again, and is bit off by a vicious kiss.

"Masturbated? Don't be a child, Suzaku. Everyone does it," Lelouch tells him, leaning them slowly until Suzaku finds himself on his back, Lelouch's cock snugly pressed against his hip as his long finger is joined by another stroking in and out of him.

"But you use lube?" Suzaku wonders, his mind still working to build an image of Lelouch in the throes of self-pleasure.

"Plastic is too sticky without it," Lelouch says absently, burying his face in the crook of Suzaku's neck. Suzaku freezes, compliantly bending his knee at Lelouch's gentle prompting. He moans distractedly when their cocks line up, wrapping a hand around Lelouch's waist to rub a fingertip against his hole. Lelouch whines against his neck, frotting faster.

"I want to see." The words come out as the thought finally crystallizes in Suzaku's blown mind. Lelouch sits back to peer at him thoughtfully. His eyes are heavy-lidded and his chest heaves with breath.

"Okay."

At least it's thin, Suzaku thinks when Lelouch returns from the nightstand again. It's thin and hooked slightly. It's well loved, clearly, as Lelouch holds it, dragging the slightly bulbous tip along Suzaku's twitching abdomen. He can see the mechanics just barely through the tinted pink surface. The vibration when Lelouch turns it on startles a low groan from him.

"And you…," Suzaku asks. Lelouch blushes again, nodding. Suzaku's mouth is suddenly dry. "Would you…?" When Lelouch nods again, he lets out a gusty breath, eyes riveted to the red haze crawling down the prince's chest when he sits back. His knees are cocked and awkward, one spread wide as the other wavered between hiding his body and rocking away to make room for his eager erection. Suzaku watches in rapt attention as Lelouch flips open the cap of the narrow bottle with a practiced move and dribbles the oil on his fingers. They drip onto the coverlet on their path between his legs. His lips fall open into an o as the first finger brushes his entrance slowly, a wordless plea escaping. Suzaku feels feverish. His eyes fall closed to memorize the sight, and when they open, Lelouch is guiding the pink toy inside slowly.

He watches as Lelouch's body accepts it with the familiarity of frequent use. The muscles close around each ridge as if welcoming it inside, and by the time Lelouch has reached the third ridge, he is panting. His legs shake as he eases the last three inside, shifting to angle it. When his finger brushes the end of the toy, its gently buzzing sends his bobbing cock jumping, an almost wistful whine coming from him as he guides the quaking toy by its end, gently coaxing it into a position that makes him lock up, every muscle quivering. His own cock demanding attention, Suzaku grabs for it and manages one good stroke before Lelouch falls forward, attacking his lips and tongue in a fierce kiss. He has sheathed himself inside Suzaku's tight passage before Suzaku can protest, the words dissolving as Lelouch devours them

He can feel very faintly the humming of the toy. His legs wrap around Lelouch's hips, drawing him close and locking him in before he reaches back, dialing up the intensity until Lelouch gives a strangled cry and surges forward in a thrust that steals the breath from them both. The vibrations buzz in a way that's pleasant for Suzaku, maddening for Lelouch. His vision blurs as Lelouch pounds into him, skin slipping in sweat as he tries to clutch Suzaku's shoulders for leverage. Lelouch is gasping, unable to gain more than half a breath, and Suzaku is moaning loud enough to wake the dead. Lelouch's gasps become sobs for air and his hips judder unevenly, sharp bones careening into the tender flesh of Suzaku's inner thighs before he is filled with shuddering jolts of warm come. Lelouch makes a falling sound as he crumples against him, and Suzaku desperately palms himself, rubbing the burning head of his cock against Lelouch's languid form. He comes with a barely restrained yip, streaking his seed across the ruined and sweaty silk of Lelouch's night shirt, and they collapse into a sated pile.