May the Best Man Lose
It was ten minutes to two in the morning when Kyouya finally decided that it was time to send Tamaki home. The rest of the bachelor's party had left over an hour before, but Tamaki lingered.
They sat in the study, sprawled on the floor next to each other, ignoring the more comfortable couch. Tamaki's head rested on Kyouya's stomach, a familiar weight that verged on improper, considering Kyouya was to be married in ten hours. Kyouya stared down at the Suoh scion's face, trying to decide how he felt about that.
At twenty-eight, it was well past time for the heir of Ohtori to marry. He was relieved that he loved Haruhi, but so did Tamaki. He couldn't understand why she had chosen him, but Haruhi had always managed to go beyond his expectations. Tamaki had proclaimed his happiness at the match loudly, but Kyouya held mixed feelings.
Sometime during the evening, Tamaki had stolen Kyouya's glasses and put them on. He was still wearing them, and Kyouya thought the frames suited him, giving a slight imperfection to his supernal face. Without glasses Kyouya's vision was fuzzy, but that could have come from the bottle of gin they'd been swapping back and forth.
"You should consider going," Kyouya said, poking Tamaki's shoulder to make sure he had the former Host King's attention. "I'll call the chauffeur to take you."
"Just another couple minutes," Tamaki murmured, and his smile was soft and gentle.
Something about the way he spoke alerted Kyouya that all was not well with his best friend. Usually he would have let it pass, and analyze it later, but alcohol had a way of loosening his tongue. "What's bothering you?"
"Nothing," Tamaki replied. "I just want to enjoy this for a little longer is all." He raised a hand and grabbed Kyouya's, lacing their fingers together. "We won't be able to do this anymore."
"She wouldn't object," Kyouya pointed out. Haruhi was practical to the extreme, and she wouldn't feel threatened by their intimacy. Kyouya rather liked that idea. He would get to have the wife society demanded, while keeping the man he loved nearly to distraction beside him. Sharing him with Haruhi might be an even better solution. "Neither would I, if you decided you want to pursue her. Or both of us."
"I would," Tamaki said, and he clenched his jaw with characteristic stubbornness. "I won't get between a man and his wife."
"How is it getting between us if we invite you there?"
Tamaki turned his head away from Kyouya. "Because it's wrong, Kyouya. You're going to swear before God today that you'll love her above all else," he said.
There were times when Kyouya forgot that Tamaki had been raised in France, with Western views and the Western God. Every now and then they faced a culture clash, and Kyouya could tell that this topic would be one of the unencroachable barriers between them.
"Aren't you angry at us, then? That we chose each other over you?"
Tamaki laughed, sitting up slowly as he slid the glasses off his face, holding them in his right hand. "Why would I be? The people I love best in the world will be happy, and that's what matters."
He took his hand from Kyouya's, leaning forward to press a kiss against Kyouya's lips. Kyouya, surprised, could only sit dumbly as Tamaki replaced the glasses on Kyouya's nose.
The two people Kyouya loved best had only two similarities. The first and most important was great loving hearts; the second was that he could never understand them.
"I'll always be your best man," Tamaki said.