Warning: This fic is the direct result of a vicious attack on our poor author. ObsessiveOtakuChick was ambushed by a persistent Fluffy Plot Bunny while rewatching episodes 25 and 26 of the anime and reading the corresponding manga. In a desperate attempt to remove the Plot Bunny, she wrote this in fifteen minutes. She is aware it is probably one of the worst things she's ever written, and she apologizes. Let's all send her a nice review as a get well soon present, and hope that her next fic, (Also TamaKyou) is more plot driven. (Lol, not likely, it's a lemon.)

Kyouya often wondered at the things that came out of Tamaki's mouth.

The sheer broad scope of his comments staggered him. There were the typical excited outbursts over the most mundane and obscure things, the passionate entreatments for help or other things he wanted, often accompanied by a lethal combination of puppy dog eyes and a quivering lower lip, to which Kyouya submitted, far too often for his liking, and the rare profound statements that had often changed many a life.

But the thing that amazed Kyouya the most was Tamaki's ability to charm anyone or anything he came across. His unerring knack for saying exactly the right thing often unnerved Kyouya.

Not that he minded! Not at all! Tamaki's charisma had made the Host Club a success, bringing in most of the Club's revenue. His infallible talent for spinning what he insisted was not bull to the customers had spread his fame all over the school, bringing customers in droves.

Still, it had made his relationship with Tamaki rather awkward when Tamaki insisted on complimenting him. He didn't know how to react or respond to his boyfriend's attentions being lavished on him. For the longest time he wasn't able to convince himself what he was hearing was real.

Oh, of course, he knew Tamaki was faithful, but it was still hard at the end of the day to feel his arms wrap around him, and hear the same spiel that Tamaki had given a hundred other girls that afternoon. He loved him, and he was fairly sure Tamaki felt the same way, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feelings he got when Tamaki got sappy, which was, in Kyouya's opinion, far too often.

That was, that is, until one afternoon, about six months after the formation of the Host Club.

"Give me back my Beary!!"

"Nah, nah," Two voices chimed in chorus, "You'll have to come and get him."

"Mommy!! Help me!! Our children are teasing me again!"

Kyouya stopped for a second, looking up from his laptop, not sure if he'd heard properly.

Tamaki couldn't have possibly just called him Mommy, could he?

Kyouya had researched Tamaki's childhood a long time ago, and Tamaki had talked to him about it since then. Tamaki had described his mother as the only person in his childhood who had cared about him.

"She cried when I left, you know. I didn't see it, but I heard it. I'd promised myself I was going to go, you see. And that I wasn't going to look back for anything," Tamaki smiled as he spoke, but his eyes had a certain empty depth Kyouya hadn't seen before.

"Why?"

"Because I was doing it for her."

Kyouya hadn't known what to say. He had grown up with very little affection from any family members. His childhood and life so far had been a careful tiptoeing through his father's every changing ambitions for him. The only warmth he had gotten was from his sister, but she had married and moved away when he was eight.

"A mother is a wonderful thing. I think they have the most capacity for love of anyone in the world. That's why I love my Grandmother. Because she's a mother too, so I know I can get her to love me too."

The twins were currently looking out the second story window of the Third Music Room, down at the impeccable manicured garden pond…and the teddy bear floating in it.

"Gaahhh!! Mommy!!"

Kyouya smiled.