Note: GOD WHY AM I DOING THIS HAVEN'T I WRITTEN ENOUGH CRAP IN MY LIFE

Ok.... -cough- enough of my emotastic ranting. Here we are with another unimaginative fanfiction, only this time, ha ha, guess what! IT'S OURAN! Yep, I'm back in the fandom, baby. This time, I won't write a craptastic fic like the one I wrote back in 6th grade about Chika having a heart attack or whatever it was. This time, it will be my own awesomeness.... in my own lame way. Here, have your lousy fanfiction, you freaking vultures. God knows you all won't leave me alone otherwise.

Ok, so I got into an argument today with my friend at school. She insists Tamaki's eyes are blue, whereas I see them as violet. Now, my color perception is slightly off, but not off enough that I'd see the color blue as violet. Can someone confirm whether Tamaki's eyes are blue or violet? As for this fic, I'm referring to them as violet because goddammit they look violet to me!

Also I think this may be my first non-M story in like, two or three years. O.o Although it does have some language.

I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any of the characters belonging to it. I just own my insanity and my own depraved soul.

The Pen is Mightier Than The Sword

The Music Room was quiet for once as the girls and most of the hosts filed out, leaving no one to clean up but Tamaki-senpai and Kyouya-senpai. That meant, naturally, that Tamaki was doing all of the work while Kyouya sat back and scribbled in that damned notebook of his. After about half an hour, Tamaki dropped the tray he was carrying and snapped, "You know, this would be over a lot quicker if I had a little help."

"But you're doing so well on your own. I wouldn't want to interrupt your flow, after all. That would be rude of me." Kyouya replied coolly, his eyes never leaving his notebook. He pushed his glasses up with two fingers and resumed writing. Tamaki grumbled impatiently but carried the tray away, mumbling to himself about "self-righteous arrogant sonnavabitch..." or some other nonsense.

Finally, three hours later, everything was cleaned and Tamaki sat on Kyouya's desk, catching his breath. He glared at Kyouya. "Seriously, that could have gone so much quicker if you'd helped. Why are you such a jerk, anyway? What did I do to you?"

"Why do you ask, Tamaki? You didn't do anything, I simply had other things to do. Running this Host Club isn't an easy job, but it's not like you would know, considering that you never really do anything around here. It's my own work that keeps this club up and running and without me you'd have fallen into bankruptcy ages ago, ne?" Kyouya said in his normal cool manner.

"Well, yeah, I guess so, but... that's not the point! The point is all you ever do is sit in the background and take notes! I mean, what are you taking such detailed notes on, anyway?" Tamaki tried to swipe the notebook from Kyouya but the darker-haired teen simply raised his arm up out of Tamaki's reach, clicking his tongue and waving a scolding finger at him. "Tsk, tsk. No no, Daddy. This notebook is for Mommies only." Kyouya said teasngly, slipping into the affectionate nicknames Tamaki had assigned since the arrival of Haruhi into the club. Tamaki tried fruitlessly to jump up and swipe it, but the fact was, he was just too tired to exert much more effort.

"Oh, come on, Kyouya! You never let anyone see that thing and you're constantly scribbling away at it like it's some sort of medical condition! At least give me a little peek."

"No." Came Kyouya's blunt answer.

"But why not?!" Tamaki whined.

"Because I said so. Now come on, I'll give you a lift home. Better yet, just stay at my place tonight. You won't have to deal with your grandmother yelling at you all night."

"Fine." Tamaki mumbled, defeated. "Stupid Kyouya and his stupid notebook of stupid.... S'all stupid.... Il est tout si stupide...." Tamaki muttered, slipping into his native French, something he often did when he thought no one else could hear or if he was entertaining a particularly romantic woman. He trailed dejectedly behind Kyouya as the darker-hared boy went to go find his car. Normally on any school day, he'd have his limo drop him off, but knowing he had to stay late today, he drove his own car to school himself and gave his grateful chauffeur the day off. Tamaki slipped into the passenger seat of the expensive car. Kyouya started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

The ride home was mostly silent, only punctuated by Kyouya's occasional outburst at an idiot who cut him off in traffic. Despite his calm, cool demeanor under normal conditions, Kyouya had a serious case of road-rage, one that had gotten him in trouble in the past. There was just something about being in a two-ton shell of steel and glass hurtling at high speeds alongside other two-ton shells of steel and glass hurtling at high speeds that put the Shadow King on edge when he was behind the wheel. It didn't help that Kyouya obviously was the only competent driver in Japan, of course.

Finally, Kyouya pulled into the long driveway of the Ootori mansion. He got out of his car and handed his keys to his family's valet. As the valet pulled the car away, Tamaki and Kyouya walked up to Kyouya's room on the third floor. Tamaki flopped down in the chair near to Kyouya's bed, letting out a content sigh. Kyouya, knowing this nice little quiet-time wouldn't last long if the King got bored, grabbed his television remote and switched the channel to some inane soap opera that he remembered Tamaki as following. Tamaki's violet eyes immediately lit up and he sprang to life, jumping in front of the TV and sitting down in front of it.

Before long, Tamaki's purple orbs were shimmering with tears as Rachel confessed to her gay boyfriend Jake about her relationship with Jake's other boyfriend Adam. Kyouya smacked himself in the forehead for paying attention enough to this inane show that he'd actually remember half of what went on in the little fictional universe. Kyouya himself was trying to finish his weekend homework, something he knew that Tamaki would leave until the last minute just like always. Of course, he'd find Tamaki in homeroom Monday morning, struggling to finish those last three math problems before he had to pass in the work to the teacher.

As for Kyouya, well, he prided himself on being on time and perfect with every little thing that he did. It was just how he was. And now, however, that record was quickly going down the toilet as he had to listen to Tamaki snivel and sniffle at the events happening on the television. "Oh, to be heartbroken so! How much pain can one man feel?" He asked the air dramatically, shoveling ice cream in his mouth. Kyouya wondered briefly where he'd gotten the ice cream before remembering his bedroom had a freezer in it where Kyouya kept many snacks not only for himself but for Tamaki and usually Honey-senpai, who usually begged him for snacks like ice cream and cake when they were over, and after one too many Honey temper-tantrums which took Mori all but restraining him with rope to calm him down from, Kyouya began storing these kinds of snacks in his mini-bar just in case.

Kyouya smirked inwardly to himself and resumed writing in his notebook. Tamaki took notice of the raven-haired teen and began to hover over his shoulder. Through Kyouya's scratchy, childish handwriting -- a style he reserved only for notes to himself and other such nonsense -- Tamaki could make out some words that didn't quite make sense to him. Golden... vibrant... a word that looked somewhat like pistachio.... before Kyouya took notice of Tamaki hovering over him and snapped the notebook shut, glaring at the other boy with his steely-gray eyes. "I thought I told you that this notebook wasn't for you, Suoh." He growled.

Tamaki reeled back a bit. "Okay, okay, jeez, calm down. I just wanted a peek."

"And I said no! Go back to watching your soap opera or something. Let me work in peace, you idiot! God, you're like a blood-sucking parasite I can't get rid of!" Kyouya snapped a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"Well, Dieu, fine. If that's how you think of me." Tamaki replied, genuinely hurt, and turned back to the television silently. He jammed the spoon dripping with half-melted ice cream in his mouth to cover the sound of his sniffling. I'm not a parasite... am I? Does Kyouya really think of me that way? Tamaki placed the ice cream aside and stared off into space, falling into his own little fantasy world.

In what seemed like only moments, Kyouya was snapping his fingers in front of Tamaki's face, going, "Hey! Hey! Tamaki! Are you in there? I've been calling you for ten minutes. It's time for dinner, come on." Tamaki snapped out of his little world and stood up silently. "It's about time. You were spacing out." Kyouya commented.

". . . .Sorry." Tamaki muttered, following after Kyouya downstairs and into the dining room.

The two ate in silence. Kyouya was beginning to get worried. He looked up at Tamaki, who was sitting on his end of the table picking at his food with his fork and looking disdainfully at it as if it were going to insult him as well. Suddenly Tamaki stood up and said, "You know, suddenly I'm not all that hungry. I'm just gonna go get changed and go to bed, alright, senpai?" With that, Tamaki was gone. Kyouya wondered why Tamaki had stopped calling him by his name and lapsed back into calling him "senpai". He hadn't done that since middle school.

"Er, yeah, I suppose..." was all Kyouya had time to say before Tamaki had disappeared upstairs. Have I done something to upset him? Kyouya wondered briefly. He followed the blonde up the stairs and watched as Tamaki escaped into one of the guest rooms, which Kyouya found odd, because when Tamaki slept over he usually shared Kyouya's room. Kyouya knocked at the door. "Tamaki? Are you alright in there? You need help or something?"

"No. I'm fine." Tamaki's clipped voice came from the other side of the door.

"Tamaki, you've been acting weird for hours. Tell me what's wrong."

"I said I'm fine."

"Tamaki, if you don't unlock this door, I'll do it myself."

"I'd like to see you try."

A few clicks and the door swung open, Kyouya walking in triumphantly. "I've known how to pick a lock for thirteen years; you can't fool me." He explained, slipping his old credit card back into his back pocket.

"Pfft, whatever. Let me wallow in peace, you blood-sucking parasite." Tamaki growled. A look of realization dawned over Kyouya's face.

"Is that what this is about? Tamaki, I was angry with you. I didn't mean to call you a blood-sucking parasite. I snapped. I'm sorry." Kyouya said, reaching out a hand to place on Tamaki's shoulder, but was quickly met with Tamaki slapping his hand away.

"It's going to take more than that! You really hurt me back there, Kyouya. I spent so many years building up this....whatever it is we have. It really hurts when a few words do so much to tear my mad dream house down, you know?" Tamaki mumbled. Kyouya sat on the edge of the bed.

"I know, and that's why I'm sorry. I understand now that you consider me, and all our friends, to be family to you. I guess, in my anger, I forgot that. But you know, you were the one clearly disrespecting me and trying to sneak a peek into my notebook when I clearly said no."

"All I wanted was a peek. You're always so busy in that thing, it makes me wonder if you even notice the rest of the world sometimes."

"I notice the world around me just fine, and that's the reason I'm always in the damn thing. If you really want to read it, I'll let you see it tomorrow. No sense in making you sit through a work-in-progress. My work in that book is unfinished as of yet but by tomorrow it will be complete, you know?"

"All right... I guess." Tamaki reached around and caught Kyouya in a hug, which was returned with a kiss on the head and a wish of "Sweet dreams".

Tamaki laid down to sleep in the guest bedroom, while Kyouya set to work finishing that which he'd promised his dearest friend.

Upon the morning, Tamaki woke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He burst into Kyouya's room only to find the boy hunched over his desk, glasses having fallen off hours ago, clearly asleep sitting up with his pen still in his hand. Tamaki smiled, lifted the poor guy, removed his restricting collared shirt and tie and laid him down in the bed, covering him with the blanket. He gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead and went to go get some breakfast, but not before setting Kyouya's glasses on the end-table where the boy could reach them later.

Kyouya came stumbling down the stairs half-an-hour later, grouchy and tired but still awake, his glasses teetering dangerously on the tip of his nose, about to fall off. He grabbed a cup of coffee, spilling some in the process (which was quickly cleaned up by the maid) and sat down. He had his notebook under his arm. After a few good gulps of the nice hot coffee he was awake enough to hold a decent conversation.

"So, Kyouya, sleep well?"

"Not really.... had to finish my work. I guess I fell asleep there, though I don't remember actually getting into bed or taking my shirt off. Oh well, I guess I had to have at some point." Blinking as more of his senses unfogged, Kyouya remembered the notebook under his arm. "Oh, here. I finished it about midnight." He slid the book across the table to Tamaki, who took it and gleefully flipped through the pages. After a while, tears began to form in his eyes.

"Kyouya... did you write all this?"

"Mm, yeah. It took me quite a while but I finished it all last night. I never really was very creative but I hope it's good enough."

"Kyouya.... this is beautiful. Through this I can picture an entire scene in my mind. You're really expressive."

"Thanks." Kyouya smiled warmly as Tamaki gave the book back. Tamaki stood up and walked around the table, embracing Kyouya tightly.

"Now I can see why you didn't want anyone to see it until it was finished." Tamaki looked down and captured Kyouya's lips for a few seconds. The kiss was returned soon enough and Tamaki smiled into the kiss. He broke it off and stood up. "I think you should show everyone. It's really good."

". . .Maybe I will."

END

Stay tuned! There will be a bonus chapter!