This...was....ridiculous.
"Kyouya-senpai, Tono's not coming out of the dressing room," one of the twins drawled, tapping his fingers restlessly on the shining top of the wooden table while his brother poked listlessly at his hand-held game with disinterest. "We're going to be late."
This was true - the group of private cars was already clogging the parking lot, looking haphazard, and entirely full of bubbly, excited girls who were all looking forward to a nice long ride to the beach for some sun, surf and shirtless boys. The rest of the hosts were also ready to go, dressed down to their swim trunks and vacation-tourist button-up shirts, and Mori-senpai had already lead Hunny-senpai outside, attempting to direct traffic flow. All that remained now was to drag their resisting king from the changing room, where he had barricaded himself with incoherent cries and refusal to stip.
The brunette Ootori could practically feel a headache coming on, stemming from the annoying automated blips from from Kaoru's (he was guessing) GameBoy and the repetitive telephone rings coming from the cellphone pressed to his ear; each blaring ring only meant one thing to Kyouya: Tamaki wasn't picking up.
"Kyouya-senpai..." the GameBoy-less twin whined.
"We're bored."
"Can't you make him..."
"Hurry up or something?"
Turning around again, the Vice President of Ouran's Host Club glowered at the two identical members with an evil glare that made Kaoru punch the buttons on his game; the sound of a chipmunk on helium announced that the game was lost. "If you two are bored," he growled out, closing the phone with a snap and making to redial Tamaki's number. "Then go. Out. Side."
Three seconds of silence passed between the Hitachiins and the Ootori before there was a rush of movement and the twins had vacated the Third Music Room.
Ring...
Kyouya paced back and forth between the dressing room door and the twin's table.
Ring...
He made his footsteps heavy so that Tamaki KNEW he was there.
Ring...
He was going to kill the blond if his skittish overzealous emotional-breakdowns made them have to cancel the expensive cars.
Ring.
Ring.
Ri--
Closing the phone the moment he reached the table, Kyouya spun around and hit the hard-wood door with his curled fist. From behind the blockade, he could hear Tamaki whimper and could imagine him the Suoh curled up into a ball behind the extravagant cosplay and other random objects, most likely cultivating mushrooms.
Twice more he hit the wood. And as his hand (feeling a little swollen and definitely throbbing painfully) lowered to his side, he moved his head toward the door and spoke in a dangerous tone. "Tamaki...Open this door."
"....Nu!" Was the whine. "I can't go!"
"Then you better answer the phone the next time I call, or I will weld this door shut and have them turn off ALL the lights." He meant it. At this point in time, he was ready to cart the blond off to some Priapria artists colony with nothing but the cloths on his back and his teddy bear.
There was no response, but Kyouya didn't need one. Face still close to the door, he dialed the number he'd been attempting to contact for the last thirty minutes and pressed the cell phone to his ear.
Ring...
Ring...
Ring...
Ri--
"Hello?" Tamaki's voice sounded broken and pouty and utterly pitiful.
Kyouya was not swayed. "Why did you lock yourself in a closet. We're supposed to take our regular guests to the beach today and -"
"No!! No, not the beach! Anything but the beach!! Please, Kyouya, don't make me go!!!!!!!" Several hitched sobs echoed from the other end of the line, and for a second, the calm boy was actually minorly taken aback. But showing any concern now would just invite Tamaki to rant and rave continuously until they completely missed the cars and had to reschedule. Prompt, succinct action had to be taken immediately. Or else.
"What do you have against the beach?"
No answer.
"Tamaki?"
Still no answer, just hitched breaths and a couple whimpers.
"Tamaki!!"
"NUDE BEACHES!!" Tamaki suddenly blurted out on the other end of the line before wailing loudly. There was a muffled thump, as if the blond had thrown himself onto the floor and continued crying loudly. Kyouya blinked.
"What?"
It took a few seconds of what sounded like fumbling (Tamaki must had dropped the phone) but a tentative response slowly began to dribble from the closeted boy's mouth. "When...when I was younger...And in France...My mother - during one of my mother's better months - took me to a beach. I was...I was really, really excited, so I gathered up all water-withstanding toys, and we went to the beach. And...and then..."
"And?" Kyouya prompted, sensing Tamaki's resolve wavering.
"And...Kyouya...they were...hairy. And not just the men. And they...they stood over me! They thought I was making the best sand castle in the world..." More dramatic wails sounded, and the Ootori had to pull the receiver away from his face in shock as his ears were partially demolished.
He sighed. And as soon as he was assured that the screaming was done, Kyouya tentatively brought the cell back to his cheek. "Tamaki...This is Japan."
"But -"
"There is no reason for you to be scared of the beaches in this country. Any and all nude beaches are properly red flagged, and most are private, anyway. We are visiting Nekozawa-san's beach this time, and while his family may be a lot of things, they are not nudists. Now come out of there."
Silence. Again. And then a click - Tamaki had hung up - and another click as the door unlocked.
Blond hair was mussed, violet eyes with a distinct red tint (not something unnatural, in the first four weeks of the Host Club, Tamaki had learned how to make himself cry, and in the three and a half months since then, he had perfected that technique) and shoulders with a noticeable slump. Shuffling his feet on the carpet, the other boy approached his best friend, looking forlorn and a little apologetic for his actions.
Pursing his lips in disbelief, Kyouya pocketed his cell and narrowed his eyes. "Was that all that's bothering you?"
A destitute nod of shame.
Thwack!
The spot between fingers and palm made a perfect smacking sound when connecting with the (reasonably empty) head of the blond and sending the boy reeling forward. Kyouya grinned his most evil smile (the one that Tamaki had once stated showed his 'true, evil nature') for a split second before seizing the Suoh heir's upper arms and heaving him toward the door.
"You held us up for that?"
"But I -"
"Idiot."
