"Kyoooouya?"
Kyouya grunted back a question and continued to copy notes into his workbook.
"Looook."
Had he been Haninozuka or either of the Hitachiins, Kyouya might have done what the blonde was asking. But Kyouya recognized the whine and slight deformities in Tamaki's pronunciation, and concluded he was better off doing exactly the opposite. They had been studying for about thirty minutes, and that meant Tamaki was due for a bout of activity. His classmate was probably attempting to stand on his head, or something just as ridiculous. Attention would only encourage him.
A handful of moments later, the couch sagged a little as Tamaki flopped down beside him. Giving him a sidelong glance, Kyouya saw that expressive face in a full-on pout and snorted softly. A half hour from now, they would repeat this little routine, and then perhaps Kyouya would indulge him.
"Ne, Kyouya?"
The black-haired teenager did look up then, and found the other watching him thoughtfully. Despite his better judgment, Kyouya's interest piqued; a contemplative Suoh Tamaki never failed to get his attention, as whatever was going on in that empty-seeming head invariably turned into something interesting.
"Yes?"
Tamaki inched closer, his head tilting to the side. Instinctively, Kyouya drew back, a black eyebrow arching far above the rim of his glasses. "I was just wondering something," the blonde said, as if it explained everything. As usual, it didn't.
"... yes?"
"Well..." Tamaki leaned forward again, purple eyes narrowed almost comically in their scrutiny. When the couch arm dug into Kyouya's back, he realized he had nowhere else to go.
He's not thinking... Kyouya's eyes widened as Tamaki's advance continued, and he finally understood what the blonde was looking at. He is.
"Tamaki--"
The protest stopped as Tamaki's lips pressed against his and Kyouya's pencil fell from his fingers, clattering to the floor. Like everything that had to do with Tamaki when he wasn't in his more spastic moods, the kiss was gentle, curious and attentive. Kyouya shifted and leaned into it, taking the lead without realizing, until he heard a surprised gasp come from the blonde. Startled, he pulled back, and found the same thoughtful expression back on Tamaki's face.
"I kinda thought it'd be like that," he declared finally, nodding prefunctorily.
Kyouya stared. "You... thought..." he echoed. "Just how long have you been thinking about that?!"
Tamaki beamed at him, bouncing a little as he waved dissmissively. "Oh ages," he replied. "I read all these books about samurai and they said it happened all the time in the old days."
Kyouya saw red. "What on earth possessed you to--"
The couch really was too small to hold them when Tamaki decided to pounce, and they tumbled to the floor, barely missing the edge of the coffee table. Kyouya looked up at the blonde, and the indignation faded into a tolerant irritation as Tamaki began to explain just how he'd come up with the idea to test the "old samurai ways" with Kyouya.
Eventually, he just sighed and reached up to cup the back of the idiot's head.
And, as always happened when Kyouya indulged Tamaki's whims, they never actually got back to studying.