A/N: Gomennasai! I am so very sorry for such a long wait, I'm hoping it doesn't deter you in making comments, because I really appreciate them, and take time to read them.

Anyhow, this has been in the works for a while, inspiration was a little hard to come by lately, but today I said to myself, There are people who asked for a second part, get it done!, so the last about 600 words happened today.

BTW, I'm sorry if this is inaccurate, but I reviewed some stuff, and none of this particularly clashed with what I've said, aside for the things we already know didn't happen. I think it's pretty okay, but let me know if you catch any errors.

Oh! Since I forgot (and probably never will remember again XD) anyone who is adverse to yaoi would best be leaving now! At least now you can't say I haven't warned you x)

Enjoy!

Kyoya dropped his keys in the hall table, head spinning dizzily from all the fumes and drinks he wasn`t sure he had, stumbling, vision hazy.

He felt around, giggling breathlessly, until he found the kitchen, the only room with the lights still on. He staggering pointlessly, brushing at his hair repeatedly.

Tamaki watched with apprehensive blue-violet eyes, standing at the bedroom doorway, clad only in pyjama bottoms. His eyes followed Kyoya`s figure raptly, as if he was soaking in every detail as fast as possible.

Tamaki cleared his throat, feeling hoarse and scratchy, as Kyoya turned around slowly, with a mildly confused look on his face.

"I-" and Tamaki fell silent, completely at a lose. He knew what his instincts were telling him to do, to smother Kyoya in compliments and overdone flattery until he forgot why he was mad, or looked past it. But Kyoya wasn`t some host club girl, wasn`t some slut at a bar, and though Tamaki treated him as though he was worth no more than them, he knew Kyoya was much more than that, too good, too much, and Tamaki was not enough.

"What were you doing, with those twins?" asked Tamaki quickly, watching Kyoya pick at his nail polish.

Kyoya had a blank, easy smile on his face, kicking his feet randomly, "Hey, it`s just you and me now," he said quietly, while Tamaki almost turned away, Kyoya`s eyes widened, "Don`t go wasting time on something else."

Tamaki fell silent, and plopped down in a chair around their table, their centerpiece adorning it nicely, their kitchen looking empty and alone. All theirs. Tamaki and Kyoya, Kyoya and Tamaki.

Tamaki had been going out and partying like he did the night before for months, but he had never considered that Kyoya would ever do anything like what he did. But even more, he didn`t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

"I-I`m so-sorry, for what I`ve been doing to you, and I still want to-to-"

Kyoya twirled the flower from the vase rapidly, smiling blankly, before laughing hysterically, grey eyes glaring with an empty harshness into Tamaki`s, "It`s all over now,"

"No. No, it's not, I-" Tamaki fell silent at the sight of Kyoya's eyes, which seemed to convey everything Tamaki, or anyone else had ever done to him. All the wrong, the broken was in his eyes, but most of all, he looked alone. Lost, vulnerable and scared.

"God," Tamaki muttered his head falling into his hands, feeling utterly overwhelmed, like a child who had gotten himself into much bigger of a mess than he could clean up on his own. Tamaki felt young and so remorseful it hurt, and he wondered to himself how it could have ever gotten like this. To where Tamaki never even returned home, gone for a few days a time even, barely spending any time with Kyoya, save for the arguments.

Tamaki heard the dull scraping of chair against the ceramic in their kitchen, then opened his eyes to a now less frazzled looking Kyoya, whose eyes seemed enormous when rid of his glasses. Tamaki wanted to fix everything so badly, so much, but he didn't know how, how to repair the giant, gaping chaos he'd left in his wake.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, and Kyoya blinks, before leaning his thin frame into Tamaki, sighing.

"You left me alone," Kyoya's voice is just as quiet, and Tamaki can hear the faint beating of his heart, while Kyoya clenches the material of Tamaki's shirt in his fingers.

"I know, I know," Tamaki says, Kyoya's head resting on his shoulder, feeling far too lucky. Even though Kyoya was drunk- high, even- Tamaki couldn't help but savour his few moments with Kyoya.

After all, once Kyoya sobered, he was sure they were to be his last.

"I still have these pictures of you here," Kyoya says, looking around their expensive kitchen, and surely enough, a few pictures of Tamaki were littered around their apartment.

Tamaki felt like a stranger in his own home. He barely spent any time there, and could hardly recall where anything was. It all felt strange and alien to him, haunted, even, because he knew that he'd left Kyoya on his own, in the place he'd bought for them.

"You must hate me," Tamaki says, and it's not really a question.

Kyoya looks at him with round eyes, eyelashes dusting his high cheekbones. "Should I?"

Then he presses his face closer into Tamaki's shirt, warm body up against him. "I don't really know, anymore," Kyoya's voice is quiet and frail, but he is still heard.

"You can't love me," Kyoya whispers, "I know you don't."

'I love you, I do," Tamaki insists, doing whatever he can to salvage any part of their relationship.

Kyoya looks up at him with an almost childlike curiosity. "Hm." He replies quietly, a strange, strangled sort of innocence forcing its way through each carefully crafted layer of shields Kyoya had put up. It was almost physically painful for Tamaki to see, that his lover could only be free like this. He never saw him like that completely sober around him anymore.

"What?"

"I... you remind me of my...family." Tamaki feels something fall inside of him at that, because while he does not know to the exact extent everything, he knows that Kyoya's childhood was not anything to boast about.

"What do you mean?"

"You're like my father...like my mother, my brothers....my sister," Kyoya strings the words together slowly, as if he's tired and cannot think straight. "You see...they-well, they're like you. My father said to me, when I was very little, he said he loved me. I think I believed him." Kyoya pauses, as if the words are sticking to the inside of his throat and he can barely get them out.

"When I was little...he, he always, when he got home, even if it was really late, we'd...we'd always have a little cake. It sounds silly...but my father, I think, was...different. Then, I suppose. I remember, one day, mother's day, if I remember... he bought me flowers. He said, so I could give them to mother when she returned, like she'd said she would." Kyoya licks his lips, drawing his knees up to hold them close.

"She didn't come, mother. But..maybe she's different. She never loved me, I don't think. Daddy...daddy would say so... but I asked him, I asked him one day... and he was...off, that day. I don't remember what he said..but, I know that that was the day I got this scar." Kyoya runs his finger up a small scar across his neck, as Tamaki almost whimpers and holds him closer.

"My brothers were...maybe better than my father or mother. I was also still very young...I was in bed a lot, sick, or hurt, and this was after...when I still had the gauze around my neck. I...I heard them talking about...about me, how I would never be good enough for anything. I think that was the day I decided I was going to take over the company."

Tamaki can feel the last little bits of Kyoya's consciousness slipping, his eyes heavily lidded, his warm breath against his neck. "I remember, not long after that... my sister, you see, is quite a bit older...and I... I just wanted to play a game." Kyoya clenches his eyes shut, burying his face deeper into his legs. "She says she's sorry...but I don't trust her. I'm not even sure I ever did."

Tamaki is silent, unsure of what to say to such things. To hear them, though, he can feel his heart breaking with every word.

"So, Tamaki, tell me. Are you like my father? Did you love me when you could only see what you wanted? Like my mother, perhaps? Did you ever even like me? Maybe my brothers? Is there something you want I've stopped giving you? Or, maybe you're just like my sister. Maybe you fucked up then, and this was your way of making up for it. I'm waiting, Tamaki."

"I...I'm not any one of them." Tamaki says lowly, the words tasting odd, unfamiliar, but somehow right on his tongue. "I'm me, Tamaki. I love you all the time, even if you can't see it. I've always loved everything about you, from the first time we met. You've given me everything."

Tamaki scoops Kyoya into his arms, feeling him unravel in his arms, holding back a sob. "I love you."And then, the one simple sentence pulls the seam, as Kyoya breaks into tears, grasping at Tamaki's hair, taking huge, gasping breaths of air. It didn't hurt to breathe, for the first time in his life, it is not just merely put off, and he is free.