"Yeah? What was it Kyoya?" The handsome blonde was puzzled as to why his friend had wanted to talk to him in private.

Kyoya leaned against a desk, and adjusted his glasses. "Well Tamaki," he said in his cold, deep voice, "it seems that you have become quite infatuated with Haruhi."

Tamaki looked away. He was a brilliant actor - well, he was brilliant at almost everything - but he wasn't actually in love with Haruhi. There was another in the Host Club who had captured his attentions long ago. "Kyoya..." he whispered softly.

"What is it, Tamaki? Have you got something to say to me?"

Tamaki looked up in shock. Kyoya's voice was filled with emotion; completely opposite to his usual, unfeeling self. Suddenly, Tamaki was aware of how pathetic he must look in his beautiful Kyoya's eyes; sad and ashamed.

Quietly, Tamaki mumbled "I do not love Haruhi."

At this, Kyoya raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then, who do you love, Tamaki?" He moved closer to him, his face only centimetres away from the blonde's.

Too scared to reply, Tamaki simply grabbed Kyoya's hand, and squeezed it. You, he thought. I love you.
As if Kyoya knew what he was thinking, he quickly pressed his lips against his. Tamaki's eyes opened wide with surprise - but he soon closed them, and pressed back. The kiss was soft and gentle; very un-Kyoya like. After he pulled away, Kyoya began to kiss Tamaki's neck, making him moan quietly.

"Say it," Kyoya commanded, as his lips caressed Tamaki's neck and shoulders.

"I love you," Tamaki gasped, "Kyoya."

The other boy smirked triumphantly, and kissed the blonde again. This kiss was harder - much more passionate than the first.

"I love you too," he said, smiling, "Daddy."

Hearing the ridiculous nickname, Tamaki couldn't help giggling slightly. Kyoya's hands moved lower down Tamaki's body, eventually reaching the bulge in his pants.

"Oh Mommy," Tamaki sighed with pleasure.

Kyoya, still kissing his upper body, began to tease Tamaki's arousal. Both still fully clothed, Kyoya very gently squeezed and held Tamaki's hard cock. When he began to unbutton his pants however, Tamaki stopped him.

"Please," he begged. "Not here. Not now"

Tamaki knew that asking Kyoya to stop was near- pointless. Kyoya always got what he wanted. Surprisingly, Kyoya obeyed. He removed his hand, and brought it up to stroke Tamaki's golden hair.

"Anything for you," he smilied. "My prince."