penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #38

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TEST DRIVE MEME #38

Arrival

"Judgement has come upon you. God has deemed you worthy of Hell. But don't worry, it can still be undone," comes a soothing voice that echoes all around you. The voice promises comfort, hope even.

It may seem like a nightmare at first, despite all of that. Full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. Wretched, unseen hands pull at you, grip tight at your body, tighten on your throat, skeletal fingers grab at your face, slide in your mouth and jab at your eyes as they struggle for purchase. It feels like for a moment, they may snap your neck as they tug and pull. The more you resist, the more phantom hands are added to your struggling body.

It feels like they could tear you apart if you let them. The only thing to do is to let go and stop fighting.

And so you do.

Darkness and nothingness consumes you for a second, And it seems to linger for a long time. There is nothing at all. It must be lonely. But it won’t be forever.

Initially, everyone opens their eyes to a long, dark corridor made of stone. They find themselves in what appears to be a long queue with other sinners, palm bloody.

Characters find their bodies feel heavy and stiff, bruised with odd hand prints here and there that they received during their journey down below. A massive headache throbs behind their temples. They are urged forward to take a numbered ticket and wait their turn in the long line. As they're ushered forward through the corridor, their first stop will be to see Lilith, standing outside her office.

The woman in a smart suit and a friendly smile steps forward to greet sinners one by one. "I'm sorry for your rough landing. We've never gotten it quite as smooth as it was in the past. Please, let me see your hand--"

Once she has the sinner's hand, there's the warm, almost electric touch of magic that soothes away the aches and pains, heals the wound left behind on each sinner's palm. Lilith looks satisfied with her work and gives a nod. "There, all better. Please take your care package and continue on until you reach the stairs."

On their way out, sinners receive their 'package', a contract detailing all sins committed. If they look at the list closely enough they'll notice it's written with their blood. That explains the palm wound then. It's an old piece of parchment despite the freshly written letters upon it. They will also receive a slightly more modern smart phone. Think early generation Android and a pamphlet made by other sinners during their stay here with useful tips.

After that, sinners will be ushered on to a set of stairs where a guard waits. "Welcome to Penance," the demon says gruffly before motioning them on without an ounce of courtesy. "Don't hold up the line."

They seem to go on and wind forever, but eventually, they come upon what appears to be a lobby of a hotel. Once there, they will notice several shops and other areas around the front desk.

The demon at the front desk looks rather bored, but when sinners approach? He seems to snap to attention to offer whatever help they might need of him. He will at least direct to food or rooms to rest their wary bodies, or recommend sights to see around the hotel.

Stand Your Ground

Curiously, every television within Hell seems to be covered with a sheet and wrapped in chains. If one listens closely at night, they'll hear murmuring coming from them. If any curious newcomer should try to remove the coverings, they will find them magically enchanted in some way that makes this impossible, however. If asked, the staff will explain that they're undergoing a cleansing to remove a curse placed upon them by evildoers. If pressed further, they'll hear talks of The Veiled Order.

But not to worry! There's plenty to do. Helluvacup needs to be rebuilt so the coffee demon and his prized hell rat on a harness and leash quit wandering the halls... the staff is rather tired of being bitten! Additionally, it feels like reality is shifting more often to showing what the pristine hotel may actually look like. It hasn't been that long since the buildings were flooded by lava and utterly destroyed. The beautiful interiors were too good to be true, and the veneer is cracking more severely now. At times, the illusion drops to the burnt out husk of a building, to rotting wood and torn, old furniture. Sometimes it's jarring enough to leave one dizzy before it simply flashes back to normal. Unfortunately, whenever these glitches occur, it is entirely possible to find one's self in an entirely different room than they meant. Wanted to grab a midnight snack? Have fun in that blood room. Wanted to take an innocent pee, minding your own business? You may accidentally walk into someone's room.

In which case, it is probably very advisable to not relieve yourself and find a more suitable area. What could possibly go wrong?

At least there does seem to be a break in the heat? Hell is an almost comfortable temperature, but there are already talks of the dreaded Fall coming soon. In Hell, Fall tends to feel more like the dead of winter, bt hopefully, there will be a skip to the usual snow and frigid temperatures.

.

Reach Up High

Prompt I:

WARNINGS: drills, torture, blood, lobotomy

Part of redemption is suffering, Darlings. That’s why sinners are drawn here. They will hurt, but they will also learn to become better people. One way or another.

The demons who bring sinners here have tied them quite firmly into a contraption that forces them to recline back with their heads trapped in a vice. If they look up, they’ll be able to see the whirring flash of metal from an active drill poised just overhead. They can squirm if they’d like, but it might be unsettling for the person bound behind them. Before they can vocalize any questions, they’ll hear the sound of Lucifer’s warm, soothing voice.

"My dear guests, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what I can do to bring you closer together. Father often says that humans should love their fellow man. Maybe you just need some help building trust. I assure you that you’re both perfectly safe. If you stay still and chat, the drills will cause a little scratch, but nothing you can’t live through. Talk about your sins. Talk about your day. It’ll just take a few minutes before you can leave. Be nice, and whatever you do, don’t move a muscle."

It’s at this point that sinners might notice that although they are rendered immobile from the waist up, their legs are free. They can push back their chairs and avoid the drills which are suddenly moving forward. But since they’re bound to someone else, pushing back will send their partner forward into their drill and surely condemn them to a messy death. If neither sinner moves, they can both survive. The drills will move close enough to tear the skin at their foreheads and perhaps scratch the skull underneath, creating a mild concussion at worst. But if the sinners were unable to make peace and stop themselves from moving, the drill is quite capable of pushing past bone and into the soft flesh of the frontal lobe. You can technically live with the kind of brain damage caused by an injury there, but do you really want to do that to your new close friend?

You have three minutes to figure it out.

Prompt II

For those fortunate enough to escape the unplanned lobotomy, well, there's an easy task for you! As previously mentioned, Helluvacup and the hotel's own pool both need to be tidied up, or rebuilt in some cases. Any sinners who volunteer will be treated to free drinks and snacks, and receive appreciation from demonic staff. Plus, chipping in and helping your fellow sinners (and demons) is something God often encourages! It will be good for one sin removal overall. There will be building supplies, cleaning supplies, and anything else sinners need to push forward!

The staff also won't be put out if sinners would rather do a little bit of cleaning instead...

Besides, it's a rare opportunity to help import supplies to Hell. There are large crates of unnamed items, new furniture items, torture items, clothes, and more. There's also several boxes of nothing but pumpkin spice that veteran sinners, who know what every fall entails, may cringe at the sight of.

Follow Me Down

Prompt I

WARNINGS: fire, disobedience

Speaking of pumpkin spice and torture devices... Well, sinners may find the prime opportunity for a bit of a bonfire if they're so inclined. It seems some demons are not looking forward to the months of pumpkin spice flavored foods or, well, working, really. These are young, reckless demons, but they've decided to help some of these new shipments get 'lost' by starting a large bonfire in a secluded place in Penance proper. They'll be asking sinners to help out. They'll supply the booze as they watch everything burn later!

If questioned about it, the demons will insist that it's just another part of the importing project. Everyone's trying to tell you to grab the crates and haul them somewhere, right? Into the fire is somewhere. Of course it's fine! You get points for being good little boys and girls every time you shut up and do what you're told. Why would anyone lie about that?

Perhaps it will come as a surprise, then, that anyone who participates will receive one sin added to their contract in the form of arson.

Prompt II

WARNINGS: sex, aphrodisiacs, non-con, etc.

Club Penance has new shots for all to try! Eager incubi and succubi stand around with trays of them, eager to pass them off under the strobe lights and pounding music. The air is sweeter than even usual, the demons amping up the aphrodisiacs to ensure everybody has a good time, and there's plenty encouragement to get lost in the atmosphere. These shots all have a unique influence, although that part may have been left out... Oops.

Apple: Causes one to fall lust with the first person they see. They will absolutely be overwhelmed with the desire to have them and do whatever they must to receive their affections.
Cinnamon: Causes one to fall into love with the first person they see. Their heart will skip beats, they'll feel the urge to recite poetry, anything! Your love must be known.
Pumpkin: Causes one to fall out of balance. Just the perfect meet-cute, isn't it? Hopefully you won't fall into anyone in a bad mood.
Sour Apple: Causes one to fall into a rage. Ah, oops. Maybe they didn't think that one out. This one causes aggression and the need to make certain others know you're the top dog around here.

Wildcard/Misc.

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He nods at the instructions, it was definitely easier than dealing with the laundry himself, when the clothes contained reminders he didn't want.

It didn't seem like L.L was going to leave so Suzaku just undressed and stepped into the shower, leaving the dirty clothes at the end of the tub.

He scrubbed at his skin almost viciously, focusing on the sound of water and L.L's voice. L.L's voice, alive and well.

Time to think would do no one any good and so he agreed. "What were you thinking?"

Hell has a few things, in ways of distractions. He'll go with whatever L.L wants.

Dry enough for now, he clicks over to dress in the clothes Suzaku's fetched for him. A plain t-shirt (perfectly fitted, of course) and a pair of soft trousers are the most Lamperouge outfit he owns. Looking back, those schooldays had been good times. He'd felt awful all through those years as the threat of assassination hung over him like the sword of Damocles, but the people he'd been sure would betray him had all turned out to be true friends.

He keeps talking as he fixes his hair and slips all his earrings back on, giving Suzaku the slight privacy of not glancing at his far too defined musculature. How can someone have so much mass and be so light on his feet?

"It may only be 2PM, but what's time when there's no work to be done? I want to go to the club and pretend I can still get drunk - the entire place may be infested with demons, but they're demons who are honest about their dark intentions. I might even be able to convince more of them to take up my tailoring service for small favours." He shoots Suzaku the ghost of a sly smile over his shoulder "And if you feel like matching me with drinks, I'll get to repay this favour and help you stagger home."

He is not one to take long showers but he stays in a little longer than he usually would, the hot water soothing as he heard L.L moving around, his feet must pain him a lot still and talking as if this situation was anywhere near normal.

He frowns at the mention of the club, it's not a safe place and it is one he worries about L.L being in. But then again L.L has a better resistance to the drugs than most.

But on the other hand it was a good distraction, better than dwelling on what had just happened. He was confident enough that L.L would be safe as long as they stuck together.

He turned off the water, reached for a towel. "Okay. We can go to the club."

He scrubs his teeth as Suzaku dries himself, clearing out the lingering taste of blood. He prefers to be fresh if he’s going to get heady off of demonic fumes - it’s not something crass to enjoy the tainted air, he tells himself, it’s just a way to re-experience a mortal’s capacity to be intoxicated. As Zero he’d mostly lived off of coffee and adrenaline but these days caffeine is a memory. Lucifer’s island reminded him of what he’d forgotten…

He’s glad to have gotten his half-Code, glad to have the chance to ensure his peaceful world isn’t devastated by rogue Geass but C.C had been right: immortality is existence, not true living.

Once Suzaku is dressed L.L cracks the door open and strides out, leading the way from the suite on bare feet. The soles of his feet have been thickening lately… but that’s a more practical and less painful change than the ridiculous horns.

“I’m making headway with the demons.” He remarks, filling the air. “I’m still a lesser creature in their eyes, but a lesser creature who has some use.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “As near as I’ll get to experiencing the life of an Honorary Britannian.”

He gets dressed quickly, pulling the now familiar clothes on as L.L brushed his teeth. The adrenaline has calmed now, the horror pushed into the back of his mind, to sit with the other horrors that dwell there, not spoken of, not acknowledged.

L.L is fine, he is here, talking. As if nothing had happened. But it had and L.L wanted a distraction and the club was distracting if nothing else.

He followed, slipping his shoes on. They were mostly clean, a couple of blood splatters weren't exactly going to stand out in hell after all.

"Be careful." He cautioned. Though L.L's words did make him pause, perhaps that was why he had never had too much trouble with the demons. He already had the skillset needed to survive them.

"It's a balancing act." Usefulness would only get him so far.

Even though his stride has been shortened by his altered feet he still moves at a fast clip, wanting to get out of these narrow halls with all their doors that demons could be hiding behind to drag them back into the torture chambers again. The creatures are far too strong - Suzaku at his side is no longer an asset but a weak point to be used against him.

"And I do like to push my luck?" He chuckles, but there's something hollow in the laugh he can't entirely disguise now he's moving through unscouted territory again.

He leads them to the stairs rather than the lift - no need to risk being trapped in a box.

"This place is a culture shock - our world seems to be an outlier in history. Not a single person familiar with Earth's geography has heard of Britannia - Washington's rebellion succeeded over and over again in countless realities and everything I know about my culture's intricacies is of so little use. Are the Japanese what you expect them to be?"

Suzaku kept up, keeping his eyes on the surroundings, for danger. There was always danger of course but some was easier to deal with than others.

He just nods, not joining in the laughter. L.L did like to push his luck, he liked to win and it was not always easier, from the position they were in.

"Yes, I hadn't met anyone who had even heard of Britannia, though some were similar in... demeanour." But none had heard of it. "There aren't actually many Japanese people here either, but most have at least heard of the country. I guess... I didn't know all that many ordinary people before the war."

Only his father and those around them, the governing members of the nation, his own family. "But they seem to be... From Japan's that never got invaded."

I wish we could have seen that too.

[ Likely he would have been recalled to Pendragon in a year or two, had the invasion not happened - but getting to grow up in a free Japan in that shack near Suzaku’s house would have been a lovely childhood. A friendship unmarred. Peace, years-long peace to truly relax him. Suzaku unbroken, himself… less broken.

He nods to the demon at the desk as they make their way through the lobby to the front door - it does best to stay sweet - and as they pass to the outdoors he sighs, relaxing slightly. Here in the open space they have more time to spot an attack ]

It’s for the best, I suppose. The only people I know who deserve to be down here are people I’m glad I never have to associate with again [ A pause ] Except Orange, but he’d fall to pieces in this place.

"Yes." There's not much to say to that. It didn't happen. Neither of them got to grow up in a free Japan. L.L at least had lived in that world now, a world where Japan was free, unshackled from Britannia. But it is still one where that history had happened, people were recovering, but the war and suffering had still happened.

"I was surprised, to see none of them down here. But not... It was perhaps best I was alone."

There were plenty of people who probably deserved hell as much as he did, but they were not people he would want to be down here with.

"What... What became of Orange, after the war?"

The smile that crosses his face is fleeting, but full of genuine fondness.

“I cringe every time he tells me about his daughter: her name is Marianne Shinozaki. She’s five; he and Sayoko married just before she was born. C.C had a lot of fun teasing him about that timing.”

They’re coming up to the club now as he talks.

“The plan for his future went smoothly - he lives on that orange farm in the former Area 2. It’s a successful business, not least because Nunnally insists on sourcing her oranges from him when they come into season. Every year he sends me more oranges than I know what to do with - and I’m sure you suffer the same fate as well. Anya’s with him too - it turns out her memory loss was the result of a geass placed far too young.” He never found out exactly why the girl had been geassed - those lost memories of hers never returned. “Orange defeated her in the battle of Damocles, plucked her out of her knightmare in a fit of compassion and spirited her away - door one please.” That aside was to the demon guarding the club. The creature let them through - and as soon as they enter the music’s pounding loud enough to fill up any silences. He continues, yelling as they wind their way to a table.

“She went to university - studied agricultural sciences! She’s still traumatised by being a soldier too young, but she seems happy enough looking after the orchards and playing the aunt! In the last picture I saw of her she actually wore a smile!”

He listens avidly. These are names, people he hasn't thought about since he came here. Or rather he had, but not in this sense, not in the sense that the world had moved on ten years without him, or with him, according to L.L. He's still not sure what to think about that.

But he had been careful not to think, when he had believed the requiem either failed because of his death or somehow succeeded. He hadn't let himself think of what had become of those he thought friends. Anya.

Honestly he had assumed her killed in that final battle, it was hard to believe anyone had survived at all. Her and Orange having an orange farm, her being an aunt, going to university.

Her smiling in a photo. He's very still for a moment. "I'm glad. She... It's hard to imagine her in a world at peace." But he's glad she found a place in it.

"Gino... I mean... I don't know. What happened to anyone. I thought Kallen killed me... Did she survive?" Gino and Kallen had hated him at the end, but he still...

They deserved peace as well.

There’s a table at the back - one side facing the long row of sofa against the wall, one side meant to have chairs that been pilfered by another group. L.L slips onto the sofa, sliding along to give Suzaku enough room to join him.

“Survived? They’re thriving.” He doesn’t actually know or care much about Gino but he’s heard nothing awful befalling the man yet. “Kallen races sportscars now, in between her work as a marine engineer - a bottle of white and two glasses for now, please.”

That aside is to an incubus who’s approached the table. While the demon’s distracting him another slinks to the table with a tray - it’s Emily in her backless dress. She slides a pair of shots onto the table, winking at Suzaku.

“They’re on the house tonight, sweet cheeks.”

Thriving. That was good. Better than good. Way better than he had thought, in the small times he had allowed his mind to think about what had happened, who had survived, what... What there even was after the war.

"I'm glad to hear it." Racing sportscars and marine biology, that suited her. He was glad she had found a normal life. He is happy enough to let L.L take the lead on ordering drinks but he goes bright red when Emily shows up, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Oh. Thank you."

He eyed the shots warily, glancing at L.L. "These probably aren't safe."

He's not sure he cares, he's willing to risk it for the distraction. To get the image of L.L covered in blood out of his mind, even for a moment.

Emily’s already walking back into the crowd when L.L looks back. He’s surprised by the shots but takes one anyway.

“Let me try.” At least if it’s poison he’ll recover in a minute.

He throws it back elegantly, grimacing at the sickly apple flavour. It’s strong… it’s burning his throat, but that’s nothing more than alcohol…

When he sets his glass down he’s flushed.

“It’s not poisonous.” He can tell that much. “Too sweet - I won’t have another.”

He bites his lip hard, resetting himself to sobriety. For a moment there he felt warm.

It feels wrong to let L.L test something like that, but he is right, he is the best for it. It will not affect him for long. It still feels wrong though, to let him do this.

It turned out to be alright though, as L.L confirmed it not poison but very sweet. Suzaku shrugged, sweet wasn't too bad and the wine would be less so.

He took the shot, wincing at the burn, far less elegant than L.L, as ever. A warmth spread through him, it was sweet and tasted overwhelmingly of apple. "It is very sweet." He looked up, meeting L.L's eyes to grimace in commiseration.

Eyes much changed, symbols of his Geass and for a moment he drowned in them, in possibility and power. The burning that was still tingling his throat turned into something else, a need, a want. He moved closer, instinctively as the demon brought the wine.

"Here, please let me." He pours the wine competently, a skill learned as Knight of Seven, before offering a glass to L.L with a polite nod and shy smile.

Well, that was little shift in mood. L.L cocks his head after Suzaku breaks his too-long stare to pour the wine for them. Perhaps he’s giving his all to living in the moment, the way he used to back in school in those days before he knew Zero was playing around with him. It had been sweet back then to see Suzaku smile and make friends with others and it’s sweet now to see him shoot that sort of smile at him.

Perhaps… Suzaku might be feeling true friendship once again? It’s that hope that makes L.L smile back warmly and raise his glass in an elegant toast.

“To surviving and thriving, for all of us.”

He lifted his own glass, "To surviving and thriving, all of us." He took a mouthful, pausing a moment to taste it. He kept his eyes on L.L though, over the rim of the glass.

The burning feeling still raged inside him and it's making him notice L.L in a way he often didn't, admiring his form. In many ways he is perfect and where he is not, then it just adds to his charms.

He wants him, no he wants to give himself to him, completely. There's a reason why that's a bad idea but honestly? He can't think of it right now and as he takes another sip of wine he decides in unimportant.

Everyone was thriving, so why shouldn't they? Here in hell it was not so easy. But this was one way...

"Um L.L..." He paused, blushed, took another mouthful of wine as his hand moved to touch L.L, a brush of his arm.

Suzaku’s staring far too intently at L.L. For a moment he wonders if he missed some blood in his hair - but no, he checked in the mirror before leaving, it couldn’t be that. He breaks their eye contact as he delicately sips his wine - but when he glanced through his lashes at Suzaku again he’s still staring.

He doesn’t know what to make of the blush, of the touch, of that shy hesitation - and then it all clicks.

Of course, Suzaku doesn’t remember his original death. He knows intellectually that L.L’s an immortal now but he’s never seen the visceral tooth. He must still be shaken, must still not quite believe L.L’s fine after his lobotomy. He remembers how he himself reacted in Narita when C.C was pierced by the flying rock, how he couldn’t even think to heed her when she told him to run because her apparent immortality was meaningless compared to the very real blood and pain she’d been experiencing.

His face softens in understanding and he sets his glass down so that he can wrap his hand over Suzaku’s, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“It’s okay now.” He promises. “I’m all right. We’re all right.”

For a moment he assumes L.L will pull away, after all it was not long ago that Suzaku caused his death, why would L.L want to be near someone like him. But instead he wrapped his hand over Suzaku's and that burning feeling intensified.

It was still hard to believe, that not even an hour ago L.L had been functionally dead in his arms and yet now sat next to him, drinking wine. His grip tightens on his hands, words lost as he tries to sort his feelings.

He's still feeling guilty, still shaken by what he has seen, he has the urge to apologise, beg for forgiveness or...

Rising rapidly is the urge to beg for something else entirely. It's winning over all the other feelings swirling around inside him. "We are?"

He wants to believe that, he wants L.L to be alright. He reached out with his other hand, towards his face, leaning closer, confident if still politely cautious.

"May I?"

“Of course.” He leans his head into Suzaku’s hand. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

It’s obvious what Suzaku wants - proof his skin is whole, proof his bones have healed, proof that behind his eyes everything is functioning as it should. He’s happy enough for Suzaku to prod and poke at him without having to ask for permission to thumb over every new area. And L.L himself is, underneath his little smile and deliberate relaxation, still shaken from that horror. There’s reciprocity here: if Suzaku’s assures that he’s all fine, if his face relaxes from this strange intensity that comes over him, then L.L will truly be able to put their mutual suffering.

Under Suzaku’s fingers his skin is soft but for the faintest hint of stubble just under his jaw, a patch he’d missed when preparing for his execution and now forever uneven.

He doesn't deserve this trust but he greedily is happy for it, not needing to ask permission to touch, to take L.L's face in his hands an explore all of it. Whole and well. Beautiful and strong. Young, though he knew he wasn't truly. Still shaken, as shaken as Suzaku was.

But they were alright. They could move on. His hands ran over the uneven stubble softly, feeling himself relax slightly. He wanted more though, of course he did, an urge that he couldn't put aside.

He leaned further forwards. Though he is more experienced than he once was when it came to such things, initiating them is still difficult, even with the driving force of drugs working to push past his natural politness.

But he leaned in, and pressed his lips to L.L's, not forcefully, an offering more than anything.

It's relaxing to be strokes like this. Those hands of Suzaku's have punched him, have pinned him, have nearly strangled him to death, but they're still the hands of a man he trusts with his life, the hands of a friend. He focuses on the callouses, proof of a life lived actively, as Suzaku checks him all over. Yes, this is safe. They're both safe.

It's only when Suzaku's near enough for their noses to almost touch that it clicks: The shots are drugged. Oh. Oh no. Chagrin floods him as Suzaku closes that last gap and presses their lips together.

Should he kiss back? Should he just pretend not to notice? Should he push him away? What he's realising, cradled in Suzaku's hands, is that this feels far better sober than he'd imagined after emerging from the humiliation of their last desperate kisses. Is it because he remembers how right it felt to be deluded? Is it because it's Suzaku, who's safe? Is it because he's always felt so much for the man, because he'd been desperate for so long in that war to draw Suzaku to his side above anyone else? Is it because he now knows enough about the specifics of Suzaku's love life to actually be aware of his friend's probably tastes? But that must be a sign this is all the drugs, because Suzaku's men are musclebound fighters like him...

The final result of this desperate overthinking are round eyes, flushed cheeks and still lips.

He's not sure what he expected. He wants L.L so badly that it is an ache inside him and yet who was he to think L.L would like him back. He kisses him, pressing his lips to him as L.L sits still, his eyes going round and wide.

He blushes and pulls back, dropping his eyes, trying not to show his hurt. Of course L.L would not wish to kiss him, Suzaku had killed him mere hours ago. Why would he accept the affections of a murderer, a traitor.

His hands linger just a moment more, wanting so much and yet, as ever, knowing it is not for him. He drops them to his side and tries to not look too dejected.

"My apologies L.L. I shouldn't..."

But he wanted to. More than anything.

L.L’s still staring with those big round eyes as Suzaku pulls away. Should he say something? Would taking a sip of wine be offensive or break the tension nicely? Maybe the shot wasn’t drugged and this was Suzaku’s true confession??

That apology snaps him out of it. Suzaku might be trying to be stoic but he’s an open book. How desperately sad he looks. It’s enough to make L.L’s throat tighten as well.

This might be sincere or this might be the result of a drug, but what matters right is that Suzaku is feeling it now. He knows himself that arguing these delusions away doesn’t stop the pain…

So he slides in, closing the gap between them to cup Suzaku’s cheek and force him to look at him with those hurt green eyes.

“If you’d kissed me like that when we were seventeen I would have been yours.” After he’d taken the afternoon to process, likely, and if he’d been able to convince Suzaku to join the Black Knights. Even with all those people around him… he’d been lonely. Suzaku always filled that aching hole.

His soft-skinned thumb strokes over Suzaku’s cheek gently. His friend, forever and always, even with so much hurt between them that’s scarred over. He leans in and reciprocates the gesture, lips pressing softly and chastely on Suzaku’s lips.

Whether this is sincere or the result of a drugged drink, L.L can pretend to be seventeen again for just a little while.

It feels like an eternity, staring down at the table, fully expecting L.L to rise and leave. After all he would not wish to spend time with him now, now that he had...

But then there is a hand on his cheek, making him raise his eyes and look into L.L's. He hides his pain as much as he can, stoicism as a well worn shield.

The words made him blush. At seventeen, many years ago now, even more so for L.L... He would never have dared to kiss him so. It would not have been proper. Britannia was not hell after all.

But L.L's hands are on his face, each stroke leaving a burning sensation, deep in his skin.

Then he is being kissed and all thoughts left his mind as L.L's lips pressed to his own. Even if L.L is doing so out of pity, out of nostalgia for something that had never been... It is still...

More cautiously now his hands return to L.L's face, fingers brushing his hair as he kisses back, gently but confidentally.

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