Warning: M/M, slash, yaoi, whatever you want to call it, if you are not into it I advise you stop reading now.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran, luckily for everyone.
Chapter 1: Outside Observer
It dawns on Tamaki one day that, somewhere in between the founding of the Host Club and the present, he and Kyouya have become more distant.
There is no particular event to trigger this thought, no special circumstance. It simply happens one afternoon after school, when the Host Club is open. Tamaki is charming customers, invested in his princely mode, when his eyes travel towards Kyouya. His friend is apart from the thick of things, writing in his notebook as always, but it feels different. Maybe it is because he appears isolated from the rest, maybe for no concrete reason, but Tamaki feels for a moment as if he were terrible far away, much more that the width of the room physically allows.
The girls around him start giggling when they realize where he is looking at while spaced out, so he snaps out of his daze and the costumers recapture his attention. Soon Tamaki is too distracted by acting the pleasant host and the general mayhem that reigns in the Host Club, not to mention by the idea of how cute Haruhi would look in the cat costume the twins brought for her with identical malicious smirks plastered on their faces, if she had not flat out refused to wear it. The stray thought about Kyouya that crossed his mind before is pushed back.
Until they close for the day, when Tamaki goes towards Kyouya, not completely sure why, but still a bit uneasy about his previous consideration and wanting to rule it out.
"Kyouya!" He calls out, practically running towards the dark-haired boy.
"What is it?" He asks. Tamaki convinces himself that his friend does not sound a little stiff, and is about to propose some grand cosplay scheme for the Host Club, when he realizes something. It has been a long time since the two of them have been alone, like when they started their friendship, and suddenly a bit of nostalgia wells up inside him.
"Do you want to come over? I know you will want to study first, but then we could watch a movie, or something, and eat commoner food! You could even stay the night." As his idea unfolded, Tamaki actually got excited. It had been so long since they had done that sort of things together, and only now did the blond realize he had missed it.
Kyouya started to collecting papers while answering, ready to leave for the day.
"You know no homework will be done with the whole Host Club at the second Suou state. We are not even on the same grade; that would complicate things while studying."
As they speak, Hikaru and Kaoru pass nearby, Haruhi with them, on their way to the exit. Tamaki would like to ensure the Hitachiin brothers do not do anything indecent to his adorable daughter but he has matters to attend.
"I meant only both of us." He clarifies to the other boy.
Just for a second, Kyouya looks at him, eyes wide in surprise. That is about as long as it takes for him to control his reaction. Then something shifts in his gaze, and Kyouya smiles.
Tamaki feels something cold spread through his whole body.
Kyouya is not displaying the soft sincere gesture the boy wears so very rarely that Tamaki hardly recalls it, sadly. It is not even Kyouya's evil menacing smirk, or his "I know so many more things than the rest of you." face. The upwards curve of his lips is carefully constructed to look pleasing and polite, the one Tamaki usually sees directed to Host Club guests or to the descendants of rich families he wants to manipulate.
Tamaki did not expect to be in the receiving end of Kyouya's fake smile, not after so many years, and the unexpectedness of its appearance stills him.
"I appreciate the offer, Tamaki, but I would rather stay at my home for today." Kyouya informs him with a kind tone, as much a sham as the smile he is still wearing like a mask.
He says goodbye with much more formality than is needed, leaving Tamaki even more confused. Then he heads in the direction the already absent twins and Haruhi went before. Normally Tamaki would have followed and insisted, using anything from the emo-corner to the puppy eyes to convince his friend, but he still feels disarmed and can only watch Kyouya go.
Suddenly he feels small fingers grasping his own, and looks down into a pair of warm brown eyes.
"Let's leave for today, Tama-chan." Honey suggests.
"Hmm." Mori agrees with his cousin, stoic as ever, and the three of them abandon the music room.
Hours later, in the darkness that fills his room and between the brink of sleep and consciousness, Tamaki remembers Kyouya's hateful smile, directed right at him. He loathes even the memory of it, and wishes that he could rip it from his face so that it will never resurface again.
/
Kyouya has always been rather silent during classes, even in between lectures, generally not talking much unless spoken to first and concentrating in taking notes. So it is a few weeks after the strange revelation Tamaki experienced about his friend in the music room that awkward day that he suspects Kyouya is purposefully not speaking to him.
This time, unlike the first, it is something tangible that gives him the intuition. Lately Kyouya has taken to have an open book in front of his face at any given moment that no teacher is in the classroom, something that has always been usual for him. But Tamaki did not remember when turning around in his seat the book been there so often, and if it was, at least when Tamaki spoke to Kyouya during breaks, he would get a response from the other boy. But more and more, he tries to start a conversation only to be met with silence and different sets of covers that slowly start looking to him as some sort of impenetrable wall.
However, he does not think too much about it until one particular morning when Tamaki enters class to find Kyouya already sitting down conversing with two other students. His friend senses his presence and his eyes flicker towards the blond boy. Kyouya then promptly ignores whatever his classmates were about to say, and by the time Tamaki reaches his place in front of him he seems absorbed in a book he picked from his desk. But he has moved his head in that exact angle so that his glasses reflect the light, and Tamaki is sure that if he could see his eyes they would not be moving to read. The boys next to him look rather floored; and Tamaki does not blame them. If Kyouya was wasting time on them they were probably from the right families, and if so he had always been flawlessly polite without a doubt. This change in attitude because of Tamaki's presence is worrying, and as Tamaki takes his seat he feels as if someone has kicked him in the stomach, hard.
He turns toward Kyouya, and just for a second he sees a flash of grey directed at him, before the other once again uses his glasses to conceal his stare. Tamaki is tempted to snatch the book from his friend's hand, frustrated, when the teacher comes through the door, and he reluctantly faces back towards the front as the chattering around them dies away and class starts.
As it has become the norm, Kyouya hides behind his paper barrier every single moment a teacher is not in sight, and when classes finally end, he has abandoned the space before anybody else has even left their seat. Tamaki stares at his retreating back, and wonders exactly what happened, if he has done something.
Kyouya is nowhere to be found until the Host Club opens, when he sweeps into the Music Room not a second early or late. He performs his usual role impeccably, balancing accounts and charming the clients to get money out of them. He acts normally and Kyouya does speak Tamaki when directly addressed, now that they are surrounded by their close friends.
That is when it suddenly clicks. Kyouya has not stopped talking to him, not exactly. He is avoiding being alone with Tamaki as much as he can. That is why he still goes along when the Host Club follow Tamaki in one his brilliant plans, why he uses books when the other hosts are not around.
Tamaki wonders if anybody notices anything, because Kyouya acts normal enough in presence of the others, writing in his notebook and being somehow magically aware about anything that is going on, not acting like he is pushing Tamaki away, slowly and surely. As day goes by and blend into weeks, Kyouya maintains this new behavior.
Tamaki longs for a chance to speak to Kyouya, but the other always finds a way to be around someone when the blond is in the vicinity.
Once, at home, Tamaki had searched in his phone's contact list until he reached Kyouya's number. His fingers hesitated, hovering over the electronic device, but he had finally snapped it shut. Tamaki felt it was a conversation to be had in person; Kyouya was already too experienced about hiding his emotions without the help of not been seen
/
Another day at Host Clubs ends. Tamaki is halfway to the high school entrance, surrounded by the other hosts; when he notices that one has stayed behind. There is no flash of a pair of glasses among the group, no one rechecking the club's budget even after a whole day making calculations. Tamaki does not bother to give an excuse and just turns back towards the music room, conscious of surprised stares in his wake.
He collides against someone when he is about to enter his destination. The force of the impact propels him backwards, and Tamaki braces himself for the encounter with the floor. However, a hand closes around his wrist in a strong grip, nails cutting, and even if Tamaki's shoulder jolts somewhat painfully, it stops his fall. He is about to say thank you, but as soon as he regains his balance, Kyouya lets go of his arm abruptly, as if the contact burns him. The dark haired boy steps backwards, distancing himself, and every inch Kyouya edges away hurts Tamaki as if it penetrates into his skin. He can feel the phantom hold of the other's fingers where they grasped so tightly around his wrist.
"Did you forget something? I checked the room and I was sure nothing was left behind." Kyouya asks him, acting like he had not just physically separated from Tamaki as if he were diseased.
"Kyouya, what is it? What is your problem with me?" The words burst from Tamaki´s mouth unexpectedly, as if pronounced by a stranger. The voice he uses is so unlike him, and so angry, it even shocks Tamaki when he hears it.
"I am not sure what you mean." The other boy looks surprised, a perfectly achieved expression, but the blond can read right through it to the tenseness underneath.
"So you haven't been avoiding me then?" The question sounds so venomous that Tamaki is once again taken aback at the viciousness of his tone once it is uttered.
"How can I be avoiding you if we're together all the time at class and in the Host Club?" Kyouya's features arrange themselves, to the blond's horror, into his fake smile. "I do not know what makes you th…"
Suddenly, Tamaki is furious. Before he even realizes it he has grabbed Kyouya's collar and pushed him in the direction of nearest wall. His back crushes against the hard surface, prompting all of the dark haired boy's breath to forcefully abandon his lungs at the sudden collision, and even if Tamaki feels immediately and horribly guilty, the part of him still reeling with anger feels satisfied as that smile disappears from his expression. Kyouya lets out a choked gasp as the oxygen flow inside him goes in the wrong direcion, and Tamaki despises the pained sound even while he tightens his hold on Kyouya´s uniform.
"Just how stupid do you think I am?" He yells to the other's face. Kyouya attempts to move his head, but Tamaki is expecting this strategy, and removes one of his hands from the other's shirt to grasp his chin and forces Kyouya to stare directly at him, preventing him from hiding grey eyes under the glinting of his glasses.
"Well? What is your problem?" He insists when Kyouya does not answer, and only then does Tamaki realize just how close they are to each other. Their chests are pressed together and their faces are only a few inches apart, so near that Tamaki can feel Kyouya's slightly quickened breath, blowing softly against his own lips, can see the faint traces of red that dust those pale cheeks. Warmth is seeping into Tamaki's fingers where they still hold Kyouya's chin, and behind his glasses the boy's eyes seem even darker than normal, like a moonless night.
For a moment Tamaki is transfixed, so Kyouya takes his chance and pushes him away. The loss of contact is almost like physical pain, and Tamaki instantly feels the loss of heat when he stumbles back.
"Why won't you admit something is wrong?" Tamaki stares hard at Kyouya, trying to hold onto his fading anger because he is scared if he doesn't he might just break.
"Tamaki, just leave it be. And this behavior is not like you."
"And whose fault is that?" The dark haired boy winces slightly, but says nothing. "Dammit Kyouya, just speak to me!"
The use of the curse word makes grey eyes widen, but Kyouya's voice sounds like he is being reasonable. "I've got nothing to say, you're overreacting and it's getting late. We should leave before Ouran closes."
"What did I do?" It comes out suddenly, and Tamaki feels pathetic at his defeated and hurt tone.
"You didn't anything. Nobody did anything." Kyouya does not get angry, or defensive, or offended at what could have been false accusations. He just does not react, his mask taking control on his features, and even if Tamaki can guess some feelings behind it, he is at loss to make the other boy admit something is going on, much less what it is.
"Fine then." Tamaki spits out, and leaves without looking back. Kyouya does not follow, but the blond had not expected him to.
As he walks though darkening corridors, Tamaki lowers his sleeve, palm facing upwards, and stares at the crescent moon indentations of Kyouya's nails painted onto the canvas of his skin.