
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12503196.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Code_Geass
  Relationship:
      Lelouch_Lamperouge_|_Lelouch_vi_Britannia/Rolo_Lamperouge
  Character:
      Rolo_Lamperouge, Lelouch_Lamperouge_|_Lelouch_vi_Britannia
  Additional Tags:
      Yaoi, Slash, Angst, Sexual_Content, angsty_fluff, Romance?, One_Shot,
      Implied_Lelouch/Suzaku, Seme_Lelouch, Top_Lelouch, Brotherly_Love,
      Brotherly_Affection, Feels, Male_Slash, Spoilers
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-03 Words: 2019
****** Keep You Warm ******
by escapeasy
Summary
     R2 Yaoi: Rolo isn’t cold when he’s with Lelouch – and Lelouch will
     never be cold as long as he has Rolo.
Notes
     Code Geass, long time no see! Changed my penname, so you might not
     recognize me.
     I’ve always wanted to write something for this pairing. I just fail.
     Better late than never? …And it didn’t register in my brain that Rolo
     is only around 15 until I’d already starting writing this. D-Does
     this count as pedo-porn? (._.;)
     Hope you enjoy.
     -------------------------------------------
Keep_You_Warm
Lelouch is warm.
His thin, willowy body isn't exactly cushy but at the core of him is a
radiating bubble that consumes Rolo.
A heart beat.
It's steady in a captivating rhythm, fizzling the icy tendrils of winter that
try to infect their skin. The alarm clock that wails with the sharpening
morning light, however, is effective at prying them open.
"So cold…" Lelouch drowsily murmurs, risking a reaching arm through an arctic
crevasse to turn off the clock before retreating into their cozy, huddled cloth
of heat. "…Lousy broken heater…"
It's the dead of winter here in Area 11 but the clubhouse of Ashford Academy is
drafty even when the heater functions. Lelouch being the dutiful brother he is
wouldn't dare to leave his little brother to sleep out in the cold, so Rolo
soon found himself swaddled in the toasty affection of the older boy's bed.
Which he's never felt before…
It was difficult to sleep at first, enveloped with a bony body in layers of
cotton sheets, a heavy comforter and their only electric blanket like a
fragile keepsake.
"Weather like this really makes it difficult to get out of a nice warm bed,
doesn't it? And so early…" Lelouch's low voice is a sumptuous slither slinking
into Rolo's ear and coiling around his spine. "Why bother with all those boring
lessons and frigid wind…?"
Yet, with Lelouch's arm draped over Rolo like a coddling cage…
Lelouch's smooth, dusky rain-dipped scent pooling into his head through his
nose…
And the friendly warmth reaching from Lelouch's body that petted him into
relaxing…
Rolo was swallowed by a stealthy swathe of somnolence that snugly cocooned
around him.
That is, until, Lelouch's knee knocked on the wall and unceremoniously fissured
their familial fabrication by arousing Rolo awake. The sleepy, solid leg that
unconsciously wedged between Rolo's thighs was unexpected but it fitted like
they are jigsaw puzzle pieces, and it pressed up against Rolo's crotch almost
as if in a natural or knowing motion—
But Rolo wonders if Lelouch's body should remember what his brain doesn't.
"Hm?" Lelouch lifts his head with curious caution, instinctually placing the
back of his hand on Rolo's forehead. "You look a little flushed, are you
developing a fever?"
"I-I'm fine." Rolo swiftly shifts away from Lelouch's touch – who is apparently
ignorant of his encroaching leg – and instantly feels a chill spill between
them.
Chuckles jingle low in Lelouch's throat at his shy little brother and he
languidly pushes himself to sit up, an avalanche of blankets falling from his
shoulders.
"That's the only good reason to get out of bed. Need to make sure those repairs
happen today." Ultra-violet eyes gleam as he fondly rests his hand on Rolo's
bed-head. "I don't want my little brother getting sick, sleeping in the cold."
The mauve-eyed boy looks away from that meltingly maudlin gaze as liquid
fingers caress his scalp.
…Rolo isn't cold when he's with Lelouch.
.
That afternoon Ashford's Headmaster calls a repair company to fix the heater.
.
And that same evening Rolo cuts the wires in the utility room.
.
"Although it was working earlier," Lelouch lightly muses as he adjusts the
controls on the corded remote of the electric blanket stretched over their
bodies in his bed, "seems it's not really fixed."
Rolo averts his gaze, pulling Lelouch's layers of love up under his anxious
eyes.
"Not to worry." Lelouch smiles and flutters his fingers through Rolo's hair
with lips and fingers that are just too soft. "Big brother will keep you warm."
.
.
The morning sun stabs at the seams of sleep again but Rolo is ignorant to it,
being contentedly encased in the nest of his brother's blankets and body like…
Like snugly bunnies burrowed in their den – not something befitting a boy like
Rolo. But he clutches the chest of Lelouch's shirt all the same in an arm that
once again curled around him throughout the night.
Although, Lelouch laced tighter than the night before.
And Rolo let himself be pulled deeper, slipped right across the ice that
persistently tried to prickle like thorns, but yet again it couldn't penetrate
the hot sheath they shared. The secret agent nuzzles into the strong heartbeat
of his target, delightfully numb in their heat and the black-haired boy's
embrace—
Still with that absently ascending knee that fertilizes faint, rosy blossoms on
Rolo's cheeks.
When Lelouch restlessly shifts against the growing dawn, Rolo accommodates;
pliant to the willing contours of a rebel's lean form—
"Rolo…"
Said boy sluggishly squirms, spooning closer to what he doesn't want to lose
when an arm unhooks from his waist.
"Time to get up." A hand gently pushes his shoulder.
"Nn?" Rolo rubs the bleariness from his eyes at the strange impassiveness
of Zero's voice.
"Maybe… you'd like to use the bathroom first."
"What…?"
"Because of your… early riser?"
Rolo is still listless and confused, so Lelouch sympathetically smiles with a
hinting point—
And the trained killer is frosted out of sleep and into an eruption of
embarrassment at the short but obvious tent in his pajama pants—
And he splits from Lelouch's side like a severed limb. Fortunately, the covers
are as an effective shield over his shame as they are against the invading
winter air.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Lelouch soothes without a comforting
hand, voice kindly folded with care like one of those paper birds he once made.
"It's normal for this to happen, especially at this age."
Abashedness is heavy on Rolo's weary gaze, but something in Lelouch's stare
holds his afloat—suspended.
"D… Does it happen to you?" Rolo's voice, however, patters out smaller than he
expected it to; twisting in the fingers fiddling with the blankets mounting his
hidden lap.
"…Sometimes." Is Lelouch surprised by the question? It's hard to tell…
Rolo uncomfortably fidgets, awareness like slimy bugs scuttling all over his
skin.
Lelouch smiles that cursed smile, "It's really all right."
…But Rolo isn't sure if that's true – if any of this is really "all right."
.
.
Rolo squints down at his hands fisting in his fake brother's sheets.
His knees are rooted in their rumpled nest of a croaking mattress as his body
is completely filled by Lelouch; hands that always patted him with inexplicable
affection are like iron on his hips. Secure. Possessing. Guiding Rolo to the
full reception of the body, the rigid cock, that thrusts him into a moaning
inferno he didn't know existed. He can hear his voice mewl out of him in a way
he never knew it could – before he met Lelouch – but his ears are focused on
the sharp gasps he didn't know Lelouch could make. They hiss against the moist
skin of his exposed lower back as his uniform undershirt furls up to his
shoulders; they are broiling breaths that match the relentless rutting of hips
into his rear and he tries his best to snuff his voice as fire burns within
him. The younger boy almost wonders if it's possible to set the bed ablaze with
his—their torrid bodies, assuming he doesn't burst into ashes first.
Lelouch's "sometimes" seems to angrily arise after a certain Knight of the
Round twists the knife in his back, but Lelouch doesn't need some
naïve betrayer that willingly sold himself only to remain another hamster on a
wheel.
Lelouch has Rolo.
And Rolo can give Lelouch something that Suzaku won't.
That Nunnally never could.
Something buried deep, hidden, in Rolo's body that Lelouch unlocks with every
heave of his hips, oozing that molten center Rolo didn't know he had out of his
throat in liquid fire. The child assassin's heart bleeds out of his mouth onto
the sheets in front of him, melding with the unique, heady scent of Lelouch
soaked into the snow-white cloth. He inhales intoxication as his nose rubs into
the older boy's smell, arms deflating against the unending current of pleasure
spearing into him in thick, scorching swells that sap his strength. Lelouch
pours himself into the hole he effortlessly carved in Rolo's chest and said
imposter brother bathes in the unspooling that not only ropes tightly around
him but overflows and floods until it washes everything else away.
Melting all the frostbitten hurts.
Icy undesirables still defrosting from Lelouch's bones are tightly packed into
this hollow of Rolo's body until the smaller lad is brimming with magmatic
moans – selfishly pining for more. He wants to feel the same majestic hands
that tenderly cared for him to ravish him. His splintering nipples crave to be
pinched by those fingers that always so lovingly sifted in his hair.
He yearns for the palms that caringly cupped his hands over piano keys
to squeeze his straining balls. His throbbing, weeping hardness aches to
be jerked by hands that mended his heart as it shudders with every swollen inch
stretching into him.
…But he also wants those hugging arms that taught him sincerity in soothing
circles. Rolo wants them to coil tightly around him with their bottomless
spiral as he falls and flies with Lelouch. Wherever they land, it doesn't
matter, as long it's with lassoed arms.
He wants—needs all of it.
Everything beneath the mask.
Lelouch's adoring eyes.
His elegant lips.
His eloquent voice.
His drenching scent.
Lelouch.
This rejected royal that's being used just like Rolo always has been – bait
dangling like a dying man in a noose. Lelouch can burrow as far and wholly into
Rolo as he wants and the heart-hindered boy will welcome it. He'll make room
just like Lelouch did for him this past year. Rolo will swallow it all up and
hold it safely in his chest.
Yet, Rolo isn't sure if even then it would be enough.
If any of this would – could – ever be enough.
For now, though, it has to do.
The searing, wet rush of Lelouch's end blooms deep inside Rolo and a rogue cry
is strangled in his hands grappling the smoldering sheets. Soreness stains his
knuckles white as pleasure leaps out of him in a hard spurt that flecks his
bouncing belly and even though Lelouch doesn't comment, Rolo hopes he wasn't
too loud.
No real security is watching or recording them but caution should never be
dropped.
Lelouch leaves Rolo's body all too quickly and he doesn't smother a nasally
groan of discontent as he feels his insides close on the sudden emptiness,
their sticky secret slowly seeping out of his tingling opening. He heavily
pants as he sits upright, a hot pulse wading around in his body, and looks over
his shoulder at the healthy flush on Lelouch's face that he can feel on his own
cheeks. The tired teen leans against the foot rail of his bed, still in his
student costume, as he huffs in air, his midnight hair fraying over the hidden
power of his left eye that indiscriminately brings everybody to their knees.
Rolo shuffles closer on his, sidling up to Britannia's Number One Enemy and
boldly staring right into his eyes.
"I'll always keep you warm," Rolo promises, earnestness trickling down the
inside of his bare thighs as he kneels next to his former foe, "Brother."
Lelouch's eyes slide over to Rolo's gallant gaze.
Kaleidoscope violets that Rolo can't read.
But any pensiveness is fleeting. Lelouch reaches from the warm affection behind
those lingering, frozen spikes of stasis to rest his hand on Rolo's head like
he's always done. His long fingers gently tousle creamy brown hair and cradle
the head that comfortably rests against his pumping chest. Even placing a small
kiss on the disheveled crown of Rolo's head as he ropes his other arm around
the body that leans on him. Rolo smiles at the heart that beats warmly against
his cheek as he's easily embraced – a content, proud line that almost doesn't
fit his lips.
And yet Rolo can't help but wonder how someone who was held this preciously by
guarded-Lelouch could turn right around and break his arms. Cripple Lelouch so
he can't embrace anybody ever again.
Break a tender heart that is scarcely offered.
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