Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran. I would be making pretty good money if I did. Which I'm not.
Author's Note: I was feeling relatively silly when I got up at 6 a.m. to write this. In the mood for gay smut too. So you could only guess what I came up with. Teehee.
Still not used to writing for something not Kuroshitsuji related, but I'm positive I got their personalities *reasonably* on track. :0
Warnings: Bits of yaoi (boy/boy action) and blips of incoherency.
A shred of cold egg white bounced off of Kyoya's fork and onto the kitchen floor where it lay unchecked—a sure sign that Tamaki was totally, irrevocably fucked by his neat-freak of a partner. In a fleeting grasp at survival, it dawned on Tamaki that the pitcher of orange juice was still in his hand, and if he aimed right and the cat curled on his slippers was hard pressed on his nine lives, the gods may have blessed him with a means of escape. But that was stupid—the cat isn't fat!—and besides, this was his time to shine! The perfect lover no matter what!
"I said: 'Say again?'" The fork in Kyoya's hand was looking more and more like a dagger each second. "You called me what, now?!"
"Well, not plump, exactly. More like, um, shapely." Tamaki offered. Yeah, that was it! "Not many mothers retain a lovely figure after popping out a cute one; yeah, that's what I meant! But, look at you! You've got the most tender curves I've ever seen since the last time Hunny-senpai gave me a pop in the chops!"
That did sound a bit better, Kyoya thought; a little soothed that he may now actually have a curvy hip and waist combo to flaunt in the tailor-made dress he was looking forward to wearing now that Renee Jr. had hatched. In fact, it made him a little frisky thinking about how he was going to introduce the novelty lingerie to Tamaki later—the crotch-less, see-through panties kind he had to bend backwards for in order to have it delivered in secret to the Ohtori mansion.
Seeing that Kyoya had settled his weapon/eating utensil down, Tamaki got on the bed with his knees across Kyoya's torso and his hand playing with Kyoya's bottom lip in a sort of tent fashion that would allow quick access to a blowjob before leaving for work.
"Yep, you're still the kind of man that turns me on," Tamaki continued glibly, his voice a mere whisper as he leaned onto Kyoya's ear. "…that makes me hot and bothered and torn at my desk, wishing I had you in my pocket all day to play with."
He smirked as Kyoya gave him that indistinguishable fuck-me/fuck-you stare that this time he was sure was pointed favorably in the direction of the former connotation, as evidenced by how teasingly his lover was playing with his trouser buttons. The last time he unwittingly offended Kyoya and read the glance incorrectly was, he had vowed to himself, the last time he would ever serve as a host in a bikini outfit and heels without getting sex.
The zipper was pulled down, and Tamaki blushed as the cool bedroom air seeped through his burgeoning cock. Biting his lip and tossing his head back at Kyoya's heated palm, Tamaki decided to polish his saccharine sweet talk off and get his much needed release. God, Kyoya was taking this slow! And he was still smirking!
Between generous applications of pressure from Kyoya's hand to the angry tip exposed through the seams of his boxers, Tamaki managed to speak, growing more and more deliriously excited at every turn.
"N-not only a-ah!-are you super mommy of the Host club and…our home…b-b-but…ah! nnn…y-you've got a wonderful future as a p-professional sumo wrestler if stampeding over your fellow siblings' hopes and dreams d-doesn't…mnn…fare out so well af-after all…"
"You done?" Kyoya finally asked, giving his husband a long, unreadable stare in the eye.
"With wha-? Oh fuck Kyoya. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Tamaki pounced off the bed like it was on fire and hopped around with his hand over his seething crotch. Kyoya poured himself a teacup from a pitcher on the nightstand and sat back for the show. "I have no idea why you insist on thinking that I'm like every other half-wit that is enraptured by every fifth word that pops out of your head, Tamaki. Honestly. Regardless of your expertise at thoughtless, voluble sugar talk, you really think I can't smell another horny man looking for sex when I see one? Sumo wrestler; that was a nice touch."
"And that gave you the right to do this?" Tamaki whined. "It's still sore!"
"You were lucky you still had those boxers on," Kyoya responded. Taking another swig of orange juice, he frowned. Maybe he was being a little too harsh. Those were the baby-making nut sacks that Renee was conceived with, for heaven's sake. Ignoring Tamaki's exaggerated whimpers, Kyoya set his cup down. "Guess what?"
"If it's an invitation to have me castrated, no thank you," Tamaki squeaked. Child labor couldn't have hurt that bad, could it? Tamaki thought. Not taking chances, he covered his nether regions with his teddy bear.
Kyoya shook his head. Peeling back the padding of blanket and pillows and revealing the pink lingerie drawn over his body, he smiled. "Feeling better?"
The coo barely registered in Tamaki's mind. NosebleedNosebleedNosebleed. He finally nodded blankly as he stumbled to the mattress. "I-I'll call my dad tomorrow...t-tell him I got caught up in a crazy bout of affection—er, affliction…"
Author's Note: Yowza. Still wondering if I should continue this as a series of self-contained, different pairing PWP chapters. I think I'll make it a little more thick on the yaoi if that's the case. ^-^"