As Kyouya was organizing his clothes for the next day, he looked up at the sudden intruder, confused.
"I..I'm going to go and shower now.."
His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and agony. Tamaki was still here? Showering at his house? Why hadn't he left? His breathing quickened as he watched the figure saunter away. Kyouya had been sure, with every ounce of his body, that the blonde was surely not that foolish as to stick around. He had just performed the worst thing that could be called control, and the boy was still milling about. Tamaki was still taking away Kyouya's assurance, his confidence.
But could he blame him? Kyouya wondered absently as he folded his shirt neatly and set it on the couch. His bedroom was a loft, with his bed on the top of the loft with a single ladder leading up to it. It was very private and that's the way Kyouya liked it. He never liked anything bothering him in his sleep.
He looked around, considering the situation before hi m. Tamaki probably wanted to clean himself up, then he would go away. Probably he would never look at Kyouya again. "That would be the smart thing to do," Kyouya considered.
But the more Kyouya thought about it, the more it made sense. Tamaki was probably extremely confused and hurt. The one thing Tamaki always wanted was affection and attention. Two that usually came hand in hand. So it didn't surprise Kyouya that the still bruised body of Tamaki wandered back into his room after a peculiarly long time.
"Can..I please sleep in here?..We still need to talk about future plans. For the club."
He was prepared this time. If only he would start using his brain again, he wouldn't be caught off guard so often. "I'm sure the future plans of the Host Club are the farthest thing from your mind," Kyouya said harshly. "But you can sleep here."
It was now clear to Kyouya that it was no longer a battle of control or dominance. He had made himself perfectly clear, and Tamaki staying the night was not a slap in the face. It was just the boy's personality. So he climbed up to the loft to his bed, and collapsed on top of it. He couldn't really believe how tired he was, how much energy had been drained by him.
He felt the bed soften a little at the other end, and he peeked over to see Tamaki crawling in on the other side. As Kyouya removed his glasses he felt a sudden need to be close to boy. Unsure of how much time he really had left after what he had done.
It wasn't regret. It was probably a mixture of need and want, and it honestly confused him as he found himself sliding through the distance between them. With the same rough hands he wrapped them around the boy's body and brought it closer to him. Tamaki was extremely warm, and it felt good. As good as his acts he had performed earlier? Probably not.
******************
He said nothing. He only followed the boy to the bed. Crawling up like some sort of dog, he nearly collapsed, nude, next to him. He felt no need to wear those disgusting clothes again. He'd buy a new uniform Monday. He sunk down into the warm, comfortable bed. As rough hands turned soft grabbed him, he gasped. Being pulled close made him almost sob again. But he refused. He only gently lay his head down on the others chest. His arm slowly, hesitantly wrapping around the others chest. He closed his eyes, his face as beautiful as ever, save for the dark rings under his eyes. He frowned still. And his body shook. Yet, he knew by Sunday, he'd be normal. For now he was..he was Kyouya's pet.
Yes. His pet. And he knew Kyouya liked it that way. The boy could tell him to bend over and kiss his own ass and he'd do it. He simply..was broken for now. But people such as Tamaki always bounced back, and were just so stupid and in their own world. Life was candy to them, and one sour moment didn't mean the rest wasn't so sweet. He smelled Kyouya's musk, his sex, melting with the soft sweat of the..activities. Finally, Tamaki opened his eyes, and said softly.
"Mom..what..what just happened?"
He asked, blinking. He knew what Kyouya had done. He knew it. But he wanted to hear it. In some..sick way. He liked it. He loved it. He liked to lose control. To hand it over, to have it all go away. And in some sick way..he knew he was ugly. No matter how much he denied it, or how beautiful he was on the outside. He was ugly.
He shifted at the man's side, and nuzzled his sweet smelling hair under the others chin, his cheek pressing gently against Kyouya's nipple.
***************
Kyouya had been thinking, before the words flew from Tamaki's lips, that they were both broken. Kyouya always had been, and it was kind of a relief to hear himself think it. Yes, he was the broken one. And Tamaki was always the happy one, so whole and good. It annoyed him every day, but here in his bed, with his arms wrapped around the warm figure, he understood. Right now, Tamaki was not whole. He was just as broken as Kyouya was.
This pleased him.
"Mom..what..what just happened?"
The words were soft and barely above a whisper. Kyouya did not even have to think of a reply. Perhaps because he was so tired, and Tamaki was so warm, that he was already half asleep.
"I raped you, Dad," he said. And he was sure, even while he was half asleep, that he had said the words as venomously as possible.
{Time jump}
It was sometime past noon that Kyouya awoke. He had been amazingly comfortable during this sleep, and as he sat up, all the memories of the day before rushed back to him. He smirked at the sleeping form of Tamaki next to him. It wasn't such a good idea to look.
Immediately the same cruel want and need washed over him. He looked at the beautiful face that Tamaki possessed, and he could feel an arousal stirring in his pants, urging his fantasies into reality. But he was quickly distracted. That's right, he had slept without showering or changing.
Then using his same disciplined behaviour, he crawled down from the loft and out of his bedroom to take a shower. In his mind, he wondered why the dominance was still there, and also why had been aroused by it. He had been quite sure that it would have gone away. It wasn't the first time he was wrong.
*******************
"Oh.."
Was the last thing he said before he fell into a light, dreamless sleep. He never snored, but a soft, light wheeze escaped his throat. He murmured in his sleep, nothing to worry about. Nothing to pay attention to. He remained clung to Kyouya, until about half past three AM. Slowly, the blond woke up, mumbled, rolled over and wrapped the blanket around himself. He was finally warm. His ass pushed against Kyouyas leg. Blinking in the darkness, he sighed. He could feel the slight, panging soreness in his rear end, and ending at his tailbone. The sting of bruises and cuts as they healed themselves. He knew it would be worse by morning, none the less, he went back to sleep.
The next morning, well, afternoon. He woke up by the sound of Kyouya getting out of bed. He kept his eyes shut, until he was sure that the boy was out of the room, knowing he was on the way to the shower. Tamaki was one to shower at night, not morning. For some reason, it made him feel cleaner throughout the day. And a night in bed always gave his hair the chance to shine. He hoisted himself up, and went over to his all night bag, which he had dragged upstairs before his shower. He slowly unzipped the bag, and pulled on his boxers, which were black, like last night, but this time made of satin. Next he pulled on a white t-shirt, the loose collar stopping at his collar bone.
And the sleeves reaching his elbows, swaying whenever he moved. Already he seemed comfortable. Finally, he pulled on some simple blue jeans. ...That looked like they cost about 500 dollars. He spritzed himself with deodorant, powder, and cologne to give himself a sweet smell. A soft smile entered his face, and he decided to brush his teeth in the other bathroom. Wanting to avoid Kyouya as long as possible Heading downstairs, he padded off to the bathroom. His body sore and stinging. He still didn't look in the mirror. But brushed his teeth in silence. Soon though, he had to do his hair. A soft sigh came, and he looked into the mirror. All at once he said.
"Well hello beautiful.."
He smiled again, as if last night hadn't happened. Today was a sweet day. He brushed back his golden hair, and set to the kitchen. True, Kyouya had maids, and a few personal chefs. But it seemed as if they had all followed his family to the other mansion. Making his way to the fridge, he opened it and peeked inside. Grabbing the juice, the milk, melon, apples, cinnamon, oranges, and kiwi, he shut the door with his foot. He had no clue why. But he was making breakfast. Blinking. He paused.
Picking up his cell phone from his pocket {he had tucked it in there on the way out} he quickly dialled Haruhi's number. The girl picked up, saying in her beautiful voice.
"Oi? I thought you were sleeping away from home this weekend.."
Her soft, lyrical voice was confused, and Tamaki chuckled. He spoke softly. So Kyouya would not hear. His voice still hoarse from screaming.
"Haruhi. I am making a commoners breakfast. And I was wondering...how does the juice..milk, and fruit get onto the table all nice and pretty like you make it happen?"
Haruhi mumbled something about stupid rich people. And then took Tamaki step by step on how to peel, slice, pour, and present breakfast. When all was done the blond said his thank you's, and hung up. He now had fruit salad, apples with cinnamon, and milk and juice all set out on the rather large breakfast nook table. He sat down. Though he didn't eat. No, he didn't even touch the food. Instead...he waited for Kyouya, to come and eat the breakfast he had tried to make.
*******************
Kyouya took a long time in the shower. He knew that it was because he had to face Tamaki soon, but he didn't know how much he could handle the blonde's company. Perhaps it was cowardly, but Kyouya insisted that it was because he had no mental preparation. He remembered his reaction when he woke up, and maybe he was a little bit apprehensive about how he would react again.
Either way, he stood in the shower, letting the hot water soak through his body. It felt really good, easing his aching muscles and washing off his sweat. He shampooed his hair and as he continued to wash up he distracted himself by counting. He had got all the way to 999 before he forced himself to get out.
Kyouya let the towel soak up the water in his hair first, draping it across his head. He then brushed his teeth, put on some quick deodorant, and that was all. He wasn't one for cologne or musk, just his own scent mixed with the smell of laundry. He would have the maids wash his clothes as soon as possible, and keep them in a drawer with a commoner's fabric softening sheet.
He walked back to his room, grabbed his glasses and pushed them along his nose into place. Now that he could see much better, he dressed slowly but surely. He wore a simple zippered vest and black pants, but added a loose fitting belt for good measure. Then he walked down the stairs and to the kitchen to see if maybe the cooks had left him some pre-made lunches that he could eat.
So he was shocked when he saw the blonde boy sitting at the table with a bunch of food set out in the seat next to him. Frowning, Kyouya wandered over, then realized what Tamaki had done. A part of him was angry. Was Tamaki teasing him? This was something that a wife would do. But the other part of him was hungry, and insisted it was nothing more than it looked, so Kyouya took the seat next to Tamaki and lifted a glass to his lips.
"Where's your breakfast?" he asked absently. He didn't particularly care whether or not Tamaki would eat anything. He was starting a conversation to distract himself.
****************
He look so subdued. So quiet. He looked away from Kyouya, tempted to look into those cold, always calculating eyes. But unable to. He jumped, softly, no more than a slight tremor, but enough to be noticed at the sound of Kyouya's voice. He shifted, almost shying away from the other, and spoke quietly.
"I munched on some of the fruit while I peeled it."
He said simply, his voice dry and cracked. It was as if he wasn't there. His dark blue eyes glazed over with thought as he looked down at the table. His finger lifted, and slid along the hard wood, thinking. Why wasn't he crying? Why hadn't he left? Why was he so..attached to this person? To this..monster who hurt him, who took his virginity by force. He shook his head slowly, then left off a soft gasp. A roll of pleasure had made its way down his stomach, and into his jeans. He felt his cock jump, and harden. Morning wood? No. He was up too long already. He tried to ignore it. But the more he thought of the pain he had gone through last night, the more his cock persisted on attention. Finally, with that Tamaki "I'm up to no good" look, he stood, his hands slamming on the table, his chair tobbling over backwards, saying loudly.
"I have to pee!"
He then ran off, fast as a whip, the bathroom door slamming behind him. He had gone all the way upstairs, and on the floor he saw his still dampened tie. Lifting it he wrapped it around his neck he sighed. What was he doing!? Still. Even as he thought this he yanked the tie, cutting his airway off. Hunching over the sink, tears streaming his eyes and cheeks he reached into his jeans. Yanking out his cock with one hand, he quickly tied the end of the tie to the cabinet, the one that was for decoration, and didn't open.
Yanking back he choked himself as he began to jerk himself off. Gasping for air, his moans soft at first, then louder and louder. The other hand began to play with his balls, squeezing and rubbing tightly, causing enough pain to make him sob. He barely breathed, yet kept pulling, sweat forming on his forehead, soft droplets spilling down, matting his hair to his forehead. He forgot everything, he lost the world. He felt so right, so beautiful..And soon, rubbing the head of his cock, his balls tightened, and began to swell. His cock throbbed, and soon white, sticky come began to spurt from his head. Hitting the cabinet, his stomach. A loud, hoarse cry erupted from him, and he found himself screaming the one name he did NOT want to scream.
"K..K..KYOUYA!"
He fell to his knees, still holding himself, hunched over. The tie still around his neck, though he leaned forward to loosen its grip around his neck.
*****************
"Well that was odd," Kyouya thought as he grabbed the nearest fruit and bit down on it. Angrily he tossed it aside. He hated Kiwi. Then he placed his head in his hands. A part of him was glad that Tamaki had run away. It meant that what he did last night had left a longing impression, but another part couldn't help but be annoyed. Tamaki was unpredictable, and it frustrated Kyouya at the breakfast table to not know what was happening.
He picked up another fruit and bit down on it. Much better this time. Still sweet, but definitely endurable. It was melon, and as soon as he was done he pushed the rest away from him. "What are you doing?" he asked himself as he walked along the hallway and up the stairs towards the second level. He had no answer, no clue as to why his feet led him to the bathroom.
Angrily, he tapped on the door. "Tamaki, get out here." His voice was soft, indicating he was still angry in some way. He supposed it would have happened sooner or later. The show down. He would have to tell Tamaki to leave. Explain to the slow blonde that him being around was just going to end up hurting him more.
A raspy voice on the other end seemed to answer him.
"K..K..KYOUYA!"
That definitely did not sound like Tamaki, and it actually brought back a rather vivid memory of the night before. Tamaki had used the same kind of rasping scream. Almost half silent, and Kyouya remembered that it had been even more effective than his cries and pleads.
"Tamaki?" Kyouya called, voice still gruff. He wiggled at the door knob only to find that it was locked. Locked? In his own house? His frustration was building. He could feel it. First Tamaki bothers him with his presence. Mocking him with breakfast and staying the night. Now he was locked out of his own mansion bathroom. "Open the door!" he commanded angrily as his fist collided with the solid oak.
The show down was going to happen, whether Tamaki wanted it or not.
***************
He didn't care anymore. He reached out, and unlocked the door, opening it and letting Kyouya see him hunched over himself on the floor. He wasn't crying, nor was he smiling. He was just..there. Slowly he spoke. Everyone knew there were two sides to Tamaki. The playful, screaming over excited side. And the serious side. This was neither, this was a newly created side that Kyouya had developed. He looked to the floor, and spoke slowly, softly.
"Look..Look what you've done to me..I can't..I can't get off without it now. What did you do..?"
He asked him, his body shaking. He was confused. He didn't know what to do. He was so horribly confused. He knew he had something to tell Kyo, but he didn't know what it was. Or how to say it. He went to stand, forgetting the tie. It quickly gagged him, and he fell to his knees again. He went to untie it from the cabinet, his hands shaking from a recent orgasm. He struggled with it. The knot becoming tighter as he pulled. He tried for his neck, it wouldn't untie from there either. He whimpered, and looked up at Kyouya, giving him what they called the "puppy eyes".
"C..can you help?"
*****************
Kyouya was speechless. This was the last scene he expected from Tamaki. What he really thought was that the blonde was just using the bathroom as a means to hide from him. Something inside him snapped before he even had registered the situation. Tamaki was speaking, but the words were like a viscous substance. It was so hard to understand exactly what was being said.
His fault? Of course it was. The pathetic lump of human being was probably out of his own damned mind. Kyouya smiled without registering it and then sat on the floor beside the boy. "You've got yourself into this," he said with a double meaning. It was really Tamaki's fault that Kyouya had did this to him. At least, that's what Kyouya convinced himself. And he was also not going to help the boy out of his own torture device.
Even so, as he stared at the boy's pleading eyes he sighed. Begging was his weak spot. He liked the human attempts to stop him, and Tamaki was actually very good at begging. Who knew?
Kyouya sighed, convincing himself that it was because Tamaki was so pathetic that he was helping him now. His fingers expertly untied the knot and Tamaki was free from the choking restraint. But not from him. "You made a mess of my bathroom," Kyouya said harshly, indicating the white sticky spots all over his counter. But that was actually the last thing on his mind.
Without really thinking he had the boy pinned to the ground in an instant. He was hovering over again, and Kyouya noticed the red ring around the boy's neck. He really had gone all out it seemed. This was his chance, the show down.
"You'd better leave, Tamaki. Your presence is annoying. It's really starting to get under my skin. It's for your own good. I will continue to hurt you if you stay here."
The words came from somewhere inside him. At first he didn't think he had said them aloud, but he knew he had. There wasn't any doubt. Kyouya was going to continue this game. It's why he had let Tamaki stay so far. It was why he was getting so frustrated with himself. Well that was about to change. In the back of his mind he wondered why now he had only just realized.
**********************
He shook his head. A plain out refusal. He didn't know why. Any other human would run, flee, and hide from him. But he didn't. He stayed. He looked at the mess like a shamed puppy, and did what was least expected of him. He leaned forward, and licked at the spots. Cleaning up after himself it seemed. His eyes half closed as a blush traced itself across his cheeks. He looked up as he finished, and as Kyouya started talking.
Hurt him? It all clicked then. He wanted that. He wanted pain. He wanted torture. He wanted it all. He stopped, and looked up at Kyouya. He was smiling. But it wasn't his old, bitchy, horrible smile. It was a new, sweet, loving, and respectful smile. He didn't move, but stayed on his hands and knees, and said softly.
"Good..Hurt me. I need it"
Then he said one, single word in French. He didn't know whether or not Kyouya knew this word, but he didn't care. As long as he said it, he was content.
"Master"
He purred, wiggling his body, soon he turned. He didn't care if he was hurt. He wanted to show Kyouya he was serious. And that he wasn't being sarcastic. He gently took Kyouya's hands, and touched them to his bruised neck. Lifting himself to his knees. He looked up at Kyouya's eyes, and smiled again. It was a tired, but needing, almost begging look. He spoke softly, in that oh so perfected begging voice.
"Please, Kyouya."
He pressed his fingers deeper down into his neck, showing him what he wanted. Showing him that he was his, and that he wanted, and needed the pain. His face was cast downward, but his eyes, upward. He had put one of his old tricks into practice. The downward look and upward glance. It made him look so perfect, so beautiful. Yet so submissive and needing. As if he couldn't live without Kyouya. He was making it known that even if he acted like a moron, and had such a. . .vibrant, personality. He respected, and would listen to Kyouya..Obey him.
*****************
It was strange how quickly Kyouya reacted. He wasn't too sure what was happening until he had dug his nails into the back of Tamaki's neck. Why was this getting him so turned on? Was this some sort of cruel twist of fate? Destiny's punishment for his behaviour the night before. There would be no getting rid of Tamaki now, he realized.
The French word made no sense to Kyouya, but he stored it away for some investigation in the back of his mind. "Who would've believed happy go lucky Tamaki was a real masochist," Kyouya snarled in a teasing sort of way. Kyouya pushed the boy back into the counter, letting his body do as it pleased. He had given a fair warning to the blonde, and with that out of the way, he wasn't going to try to control himself. No... all he needed to do was control the boy in front of him. That would be enough.
"And you're so very good at begging," he continued roughly. Both of his hands began to undress the boy again, grabbing the end of his shirt and pulling it above his head. It revealed the now marked and bruised body of Tamaki. The bruises were still purple, with a yellowish tinge. They would heal quickly, Kyouya assumed.
He slammed Tamaki against the counter again, this time so he could pull off the boy's jeans easier. It wasn't necessary for Tamaki to be naked, but Kyouya did not question his thoughts any further than decided it was because Tamaki would feel a bit of shame. With the jeans off, Kyouya grabbed the slender legs of the boy, bringing them up to his mouth.
With slow bites, he gradually worked his way up to Tamaki's inner thigh, each bite harder than the last as the skin got more and more sensitive. With a sudden movement he dropped the leg and then leaned in to the boy still sitting against the counter. He attacked the red raw neck with his teeth, scraping along the neck and up to the boy's jaw line. With one of his hands he held the boy's head in place, nails digging a little into the scalp as he collected a fistful of hair.
He wanted to hear Tamaki beg some more, and he wanted to hear his voice in pain.