• Lelouch walked through the labyrinth that can only be known as his castle. It should be nothing much to a normal person from the outside, but here at the Pendragon, a prince walking alone was like a prince walking naked.

    A crude simile, yes, but there was no better way to describe it.

    'That idiot is lucky father doesn't live with me of all his children.' Lelouch thought, reminiscing of the time when Charles zi Britannia had caught Euphemia alone and found out that her knight, the almighty pain-in-the-Britannian-a** Gino Weinberg, had strutted off to buy some candy.

    Of course, Euphemia's pleas to her father were ricocheted right off, and Gino was demoted from being her special knight to a guard at her palace, and Anya had taken his place—leaving Nunally to her caretaker, Sayoko.

    "I swear," Lelouch muttered under his breath, turning the corner to Suzaku's room's hallway, "If he goes off one more time—"

    "Argh! s**t! Oof! Ow!" Suzaku can curse now?

    His amethyst eyes widened. He ran for the door that read "Kururugi" and burst it open.

    "Suzaku, what the hell are you doing?"

    There, sprawled face down on the floor, was his Knight—chocolate curls and firm backside and all—Suzaku Kururugi, hands over his head in an apparent attempt to protect himself from whatever idiotic catastrophe he was trying.

    His eyes opened, revealing shocked and embarrassed emerald orbs, "Your highness!" Suzaku scrambled up and dusted off what must be soot off of his white uniform and bowed, "Forgive me, I was testing something out."

    Lelouch raised a brow, "Are you sure you weren't attempting suicide? Am I that much of a pain?" He teased lightly.

    Suzaku chuckled as he bent over to pick up the items on the floor, "No, your highness, I'm pretty sure suicide is the last thing on my mind right now."

    'Is that so, Suzaku?'

    The prince looked at the items: a lighter, a strip of cotton, a needle and thread, and... was that Ronsonol?

    "Let me repeat my first question, what the hell were you doing?" Lelouch asked as Suzaku went off to dispose of the items. He noticed the way Suzaku's hand moved, "And what's wrong with your hand?"

    The Japanese boy walked over to his first-aid kit and sat on his bed, "I was trying to do this magic trick called the 'Handheld Fireball'. I burned my fingers." He then proceeded to clumsily apply burn ointment.

    'Idiot..' Lelouch thought, half-exasperated, half-amused. "Suzaku, wait." He said as he walked into the bathroom (which Suzaku always liked to keep clean, thank goodness) and came out with a cool damp towel.

    The raved sat next to him, not noticing how Suzaku eyes widened in confusion, as he applied cold compress against the burn.

    Suzaku, unable to hold the impulse, moaned in relief.

    And, mind you reader, Lelouch thought of more instances where that pleasured moan could surface.

    Lelouch tried hard to keep a straight face—to keep the blush from surfacing on his pale cheeks—as he continued to tend to Suzaku's burns. He smiled inwardly as he compared hands with the Japanese boy. Tan against alabaster, calloused against smooth, warm against cold, soldier's against prince's.

    "Sire, I could have done it—I did do it." Suzaku corrected himself, "But thank you."

    The prince opened a nearby compartment and fixed a clean new white glove on the hand. Lelough looked up at Suzaku, "You didn't do it properly. And you're welcome. Try to learn the magic trick 'Heal' once in a while." He teased as he stood up and walked out, "Now accompany me like you're supposed to."

    Unbeknownst to the prince, the knight smiled and held up his newly gloved hand to his lips, inhaling and tasting Lelouch's sweet scent.

    Suzaku followed suit after his prince.

    "Yes, your highness."