“Oh, come on, Lelouch…”
He refused to look at her, instead choosing to blankly stare at the TV. Even when she had ignored the rest of the empty space on the sofa and sat down in his lap, he chose not to pay her any attention. So upset was he that he even tried his best to stifle his shivers when her cold hands slipped under his shirt and she splayed her fingers wide on his bare skin. Leaning in, she gently breathed against his neck as he breathed in her heady shampoo and he tried to fight against the alarms going off in his head.
“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” she teased. He finally looked at her out of the corner of his eye – Sourpuss? – but still remained silent until her lips came dangerously close to brushing against his.
“I hate you.”
His words seemed to echo in the quiet of their home – correction: his home. She seemed to be unaffected by his declaration though because she only smiled.
“I know, but what can you do? You’re stuck with me. That’s what you chose all those years ago: to stay with me for better or for worse. I didn’t ask you to make that decision; you’re the one who made it for us both. So what are you going to do? Abandon our baby?”
“My mistake,” he grumbled. “I was young and stupid. What else can you expect?”
“I thought you were quite intelligent for your age, albeit a little dense at times. At least sharper than some other people I’ve been with. But that doesn’t matter. They don’t matter anymore. The only person that matters now,” she said softly as she brushed his hair away from his eyes, “is you.”
Back when they had first begun the long, long process of splitting, he had wondered what would become of them and how they would treat each other in business now that they were apart romantically. But as he sat there, he realized that he shouldn’t have worried; she remained unfazed by the change in their martial statuses. Still trying to get him to fumble as he tried to figure out when she was joking and when she wasn’t, still trying to get a rise out of him and tease him and one-up him. As if they hadn’t divorced and completely broken off from one another in every way save for their son.
But he couldn’t even toss some stinging remark her way this time – not that he had had one but at least give him the opportunity – because she kissed him with one of those sloppy kisses, the ones meant for dark corners and darker secrets, the kind that was more animalistic than anything else, that would have made him thought (if he didn’t know any better) that she had actually missed him. And much to his horror, as her arms curled around his neck and she pressed herself against him and her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, he found himself thinking that maybe she had. He found himself kissing her back and fiddling with the buttons of the shirt she had taken the liberty of stealing until they were in their bedroom again, lying on the comforter they had picked out all those years ago, their clothes falling onto the rug they had used to argue over whether or not it was the same exact shade of green that her hair was and that no, God damn it, he hadn’t bought it just to mock her because why the hell would he want to do that?
But the rug was far from his mind as they fell into their old rhythms again and he was reminded of a sort of pleasure he had forgotten all about ever since the last time they had been able to stop fighting enough to tangle themselves together.
“I’m going to make you regret showing up here,” he growled. She only sneered at him.
“You can try, but you always had such a difficult time pleasuring women, Lelouch. Feel like you’re a Casanova now that you’re back to being a bachelor?”
Still, even as the words left C.C.’s lips, she knew she’d soon regret her taunting. Maybe it was because he had been her first and there was just something about your first, or maybe their bodies just got along better than their personalities did, but whatever it was, he always managed to thoroughly exhaust her. The bumbling, fumbling idiot – the one who was unwittingly terrible, the one man farthest from being a ladies’ man – always without fail made her regret her taunting in the bedroom. In the past decade they had slept together, there hadn’t been one occasion when she hadn’t been able to get off, and as he spread her legs wide, she knew that tonight would be no exception.
Oh, well. She’d take her punishment with open arms. Or was the proper word legs?
Who knew? Who cared? She knew she didn’t.