Alright so, 6 am yesterday morning I am finally going to bed. Then? WHAM! INSPIRATION! It won't leave me alone and I absolutely have to get it out of my system. This one-shot is a result of that. Hope you enjoy, it's bittersweet and lemon-scented ;)
I still don't own Ouran. I never will...which is depressing T_T
His eyes are what first made me realize I love him. Shining like priceless, sparkling gems unearthed solely for my feasting gaze; I am transfixed by their onyx color, as dark as the night yet lit like the thousands of stars that come with the dusk. Cruelly beautiful, turning my insides to ice as they pierce me with a steely glare. I want so desperately to turn away, but the malice contained within the tortured soul beyond those eyes cries out to me louder than any words. As if gravity has shifted I am drawn towards the owner of the black stare, my feet moving unbidden towards him. Left, right, left right; I cannot stop what his simple look has begun. He flinches as my hand reaches up to remove the obnoxious pieces of glass that trap his eyes behind them, but he makes no move to push me away. Suddenly very aware of the empty room behind me I shiver with pleasure, aroused by the fact that no one can stop the animal I've just set free from its cage. As if by unspoken agreement he sets his ever present notebook aside, temporarily releasing me from the bindings of his frighteningly wonderful attention. In one swift movement he turns back to me and removes his jacket, tossing it aside uselessly as a sneer twists onto his pale lips. Oh how I love to feel and kiss and taste those lips; have them caress every inch of my sweating body until I am all but begging for sweet release. As he advances on me my pants tighten with my sickeningly dirty thoughts, images flashing of different fantasies that always seem to become reality with him. Firmness hits the backs of my legs and for a brief second fear grips me as I free fall backwards onto a sofa, the breath stolen from my lungs from the force of the impact. His smirk turns as dark as those pools of night you would call eyes and my heart stops, leaving me without life for a moment. Wordlessly he crawls upon me, our overheated bodies not close enough as he drags his already very hard erection up my thigh. My head tips back with my throaty moan, and he takes advantage of my exposed neck with his devilish tongue, exquisite lips, and pearly white teeth. Still moving slow like thick molasses on a cold January morning, his hands make their way under my powder blue blazer and he lifts me up to remove the thick fabric from my slight frame. My mind begins to fog as the reality of his actions takes ahold of me in a firm grip, and for a moment I am truly afraid of the sin we are about to commit yet again. He senses my tension and pulls back to scrutinize my face, the need further darkening his irises until they are nothing more than black holes.
"Kaoru...?" The silky purr of his voice startles me and my poor heart stutters. "We can stop..." I hear faint traces of hope in his velvety voice, almost as if he wants me to say yes. Though he speaks like he wants to discontinue what I've begun, his entire body is absolutely begging and craving to be touched; as if the throbbing erection pressing into my leg wasn't indication enough. All of these thought take mere milliseconds to process before I begin to shake my head.
"I don't want to stop. Please Kyouya...I need you so bad..." My speech is husky with arousal and I bite my lip as I boldly take his hand and guide it to the aching bulge between my legs. An uncharacteristic blush dusts the cheeks of the Ootori and I wonder if I've been too brave in my actions. However I am rewarded by a deep chuckle and a light squeeze.
"Are you afraid, Kaoru?"
Yes. I always am.
"N-no..." Damn that voice of his, damn those eyes, and especially damn those fingers that are fondling and groping me in all the right places. The next moments pass in a blur as unexpectedly our mouths collide and tongues chase each other in a wicked game of cat and mouse. Clothes are suddenly too thick and are torn from our now sweat-covered bodies, thrown away like yesterday's laundry. His lips and that deliciously wet tongue trace patterns everywhere on my flushed body; everywhere but the place I want them most, that is. His incessant teasing makes me writhe and pant beneath him, the third music room filled with my needy noises which pour from my open mouth.
"Kyouya...haa nngh senpai please...I can't take anymore..." He grins and his eyes flash dangerously as he abruptly lifts me up and flips me so that I'm on all fours. Soft hands travel down my back, their destination all too clear. Hot breath fans over my behind as he moves closer, and before I even have time to register this a very hot and very wet appendage is delving into my most private area. I cry out in pleasure and alarm, not expecting this kind of treatment from the usually selfish Shadow King. He licks at my inner walls, coating them with copious amounts of his saliva and making me quiver with anticipation.
"Kyouya please...I need you in me..." I beg, my body so aroused that my swollen cock drips sticky pre-cum onto the couch below me. The warmth in my hole disappears and is replaced by a stinging sensation on my left bum cheek. The sound from the slap rings through the empty room as does my surprised yelp.
"Look at you," he murmurs, "dripping and already screaming. Such a slut." I know I should be offended by his words, but his deep voice is turning me on so bad that I'm far past caring. I look back with a signature smirk, "Then what are you waiting for? Take me senpai..." He seems a little shocked at my sudden change in attitude, but lust overrules the emotion and he spreads me open. In one smooth thrust he's sheathed to the hilt inside me, and a smile plays on the edges of my lips. Small moans and mumbled nonsense bubble up from my throat, spurring him to go faster, harder. Long fingers tangle in my damp hair and my head is forced back so he can sloppily kiss me as he rams into me without mercy nor dignified grace. The hand not in my flaming locks snakes around my middle to lazily pump me, causing me to grasp the arm of the couch in a white-knuckle grip. One hand still working under me, the other moves to hold my hip which immediately bruises under his firm touch. He's not holding back as he slams into me, the crude sound of skin slapping skin echoing throughout the room as our passion-filled moment intensifies and our climaxes drawn nearer. I feel like I'm being torn in half from the force he's using, but it feels better than anything in the world. A particularly sharp thrust causes him to hit my prostate sharply and I give a small whine of appreciation as he meets it head on (pun intended) with every merciless drive of his hips. My orgasm arrives first, and wonderful sweet pleasure washes over me in a great wave, forcing my back to arch and my muscles to clench around my secret lover. While I practically scream his name Kyouya comes without a sound, his hips snapping forwards as he fills me to the brim with his sticky seed. His silence unnerves me, as if this encounter has meant nothing more to him than a simple fuck. He carefully keeps his face hidden from me as he pulls out and redresses, which only distresses me further. I follow his example and clothe myself aswell, my throat tight and my cheeks flushed as I hold back my impending tears.
"You should have told me to stop." He says coolly, catching me off-guard and making me drop the shirt in my hands; it flutters to the floor and settles into a white puddle at my feet.
"W-what?" My voice squeaks with worry, and I clear my throat and look up at his stony, emotionless face.
"I said, you should have told me to stop. This is just going to be harder now." He speaks with a calm and monotone voice, not at all what I'm used to when we're alone together. My eyebrows knit together with my confusion, and I can barely keep the tremor out of my voice as I reply:
"What are you talking about Kyouya?" I try to picture a reason, any reason but the one that slips from his deceitful lips.
"I don't want to see you anymore Kaoru. We have to stop this." The room is spinning, my mind on a carousel that refuses to stop no matter how much I plead.
"Kyouya you don't...you can't..." I take a deep breath and try to steady my trembling legs which have all but turned to jelly. "Please don't say that Kyouya. I love you so much...I...I do. I love you. I know I've never admitted it but I'm telling you now. I love you, Kyouya. Please." During my little speech I've managed to go to him and clutch his shirt with shaking fists and tears running down my reddened cheeks. The eyes that I once found so deep, so alluring, are now shallow and bitter as he stares down at me vacantly; the passionate and sincere person from moments before replaced by an empty shell. He gently removes my hands and turns away, picking up his glasses and replacing them on his face. They catch the light and it glints off of them, hiding any emotion that could be behind them. I swear for a split second pain contorts his features, though I can't say for sure since my mind is trying to find ways to keep my heart from breaking. I feel it crack with every short phrase that comes from his deceptive mouth.
"Kaoru, don't. Don't say that. You know you don't mean it. What we had...was nothing. You..." He pauses to swallow, and I frown. Is he nervous? There is usually never a break in Kyouya's words, he never hesitates to speak what's on his mind. I wish he had hesitated forever. "You were just a good fuck." He finishes, and with that he grabs his laptop and notebook and sweeps from the room without a backwards glance.
The cracks in my heart spread, and in a quick second it shatters and the pieces bounce around in my hollow chest to mock me. I saunter back to the couch and plop down upon it, burying my face in the warmth it still bore where Kyouya held me like he actually loved me. Without emitting a single sound I cry, tears leaking out of my eyes and further staining the couch I lay on. I bury my face in the protective circle of my arms, the only form of armor I have left. Kyouya doesn't want me, and even Hikaru left me for some guy he met months ago. I am truly alone this time, no one to pick me up when I fall. No big brother to clean my scrape when I slip and kiss it better, no lover to run to when I just need to be held. The loneliness creeps up on me and pounces, covering me in a thick layer of emptiness and unbearable pain. It's all too much; I just want it to end.
I sit up and go to my knapsack, fishing out a flat black shaving case and returning to the couch. The blade is cold and sharp, just like the last look Kyouya gave me; the cut will feel much the same. Hikaru never truly noticed the scars, and the rest of the Host Club pretended not to. I usually wore long-sleeved shirts; I preferred to let my suffering go unnoticed, but there was one person who did see the torment behind my forced smiles and fake happiness. A certain shadow, a presence in the background watching me with intense speculations of what was really going on.
How did he see?
How did he notice the flinching and the fear that I tried to cover up so meticulously?
How could he have noticed the predatory way my brother would look at me; the things he hinted at doing to me behind closed doors, only to follow up with the threats later on at home despite my cries to stop?
What merit did he receive when he came to me and sheltered me from the terrible things I was forced into?
What was he thinking when he held me for the first time, whispering sweet nothings in my ear as I sobbed in his arms?
Why did I so foolishly believe those nothings? Why did I have to let him into my heart? Why did I have to see him as something he clearly wasn't? Why was I so absolutely thick skulled? Why am I still pinning over the person I want the most, when he's just tossed me aside like a broken toy?
I don't realize that I'm shouting these things until I stop and the room's silence presses its weight upon me once more. The blade I still hold in my hand is no longer silver, but a lovely shade of crimson red. With foggy vision I see that my arms and parts of my legs are painted in the same brilliant scarlet, the colour spreading across my limbs and dripping onto the couch and dotting the floor. I finally feel the stinging, though I'm past caring anymore and I embrace the pain that envelops me in its tight grasp. Somehow the room has grown dim, the sun shielding itself from this part of the world until tomorrow dawns. The tomorrow that I'll never witness. The grey expanse of the room seems to twist and turn as blackness lurks on the edges of my usually clear vision, and I blot it out with my lids to ease my passing. My imagination kicks in and I picture his warm arms around me, pulling me until my back rests on his broad chest. Kisses are lightly pressed to my neck only to be followed by heated tears and even warmer breath.
"Why Kaoru? Why did you do this to yourself?" My mind has memorized his sleek voice so well that it's almost as if he's really here. "Kaoru please...I love you Kaoru what have you done? Why Kaoru why!" I frown at his sobbing, I want to remember him as being happy.
"I..love you Kyouya...please don't be sad..." The words are broken and crackly, but they have the effect I want and the feeling of his lips on mine is so realistic that I almost open my eyes to see if he's really here. However I don't want to ruin the illusion, and the loving kiss that I share with him is the last thing I need to let the darkness over-take me. A smile is on my face as death's hand tugs on my own, beckoning me from this life and on to the next.
"I love you Kaoru...I love you Kaoru...I love you..." The echo fades out as I slip away, ready to rest eternally in the bitter sweetness of my own demise.
I feel like I used a lot of semi-colons in this. Hmm. Please please please review! I love to hear your opinions!