This story was written very quickly out of boredom, so sorry if it's terrible. It might seem a little confusing, and there are some scenes that I manipulated to make the story better. I hope you enjoy.
It was the same every time. Lips kissing each other, becoming cracked from the friction, despite the saliva coating them. Bite marks all over, feeling a particular thrill with blood was drawn.
Their bodies rocked together almost perfectly. Their moans and gasps came in synchronization. One came, their muscles contracting and spazzing around the other's length, causing the over whelming pleasure that made them both see stars.
It started from curiosity; both found the other attractive ("B-but we're both boys!" "So? Don't you like me?"). Eventually, it evolved into stress; one ran an entire army, trying hard to beat the one person who always ruined his plans ("Damn that white knight!"). The other was a pilot who had to meet perfect standards; fight when he was wounded or tired and keep his percentage rate up, all while using everything he had to stop the rebel who went to extreme, murderous measures to get what he wanted ("Damn that black king!")
The stress turned into loneliness ("I watched the news… You're the one whose been piloting that white knightmare?" "Yeah… Does it bother you?" "No, not at all.").
Though they wouldn't admit it, they were both infatuated with their enemy, in a way. ("He's so strong, being able to fight his way out of my strategies." "He's so smart, able to figure out my fighting style so easily.") When one figured out who the other was, it didn't bring satisfaction, but disappointment that they didn't tell them.
The sex ("Let's not call it sex. That sounds so disgusting. Let's call it making love.") morphed from weakness then. ("I'm so pathetic! I wasn't even able to protect Euphie!" "Euphemia wouldn't want you to say that. She loved you, right?" "IT DOESN'T MATTER! I'm so weak that I can't even get in the way of a bullet quick enough to save her?! I should have been the one that got shot!")
The two comforted each other as best they could. That usually consisted of hurting each other with sharp thrusts and hard bites. ("Ah! Mm.. Hurt me.. More…")
It always ending the same. They would lie in the same bed, bodies sticky from the heat, sweat, and bodily fluids. They wouldn't make eye contact, just stare at whatever caught their attention until they fell asleep ("The floor has 189 large pieces of lint on it." "The bug on the window has moved 15 times.")
One day, after the affair was over and they were parting ways for the time being, one finally built up the courage to say the most complex three words in history. ("I… I love you…" "…I love you, too.")
The curiosity, the stress, the loneliness, and the weakness all dispersed when the mask broke, when the gun was pointed. All that was left was emptiness.
("Please! You have to help me save Nunnally!")
("I don't care! You've been lying to everybody! Even me!")
A gloved hand shook uncontrollably at the thought of his lover murdering.
("Zero took everything from me! First Euphie, and now you!")
("I am Zero!")
Neither cared that a certain red headed girl was watching their 'Lover's Quarrel'. They just wanted revenge for what was taken from them.
("Britannia took everything from me! My mother, my sister's use of her legs and sight! And now my best friend!")
("The work with Britannia to make it a better place!")
("It doesn't work that way!")
It all ended at the sound of an air cracking shot.