Hi it's Pandora. this chapter includes the necessary usage of a safeword (non-verbal) just to warn you all. Enjoy!
Hikaru's back hits the wall with a thump. Kyouya's hands are everywhere and Hikaru pants and moans, tugging at Kyouya's shirt hem.
"I hate you," he murmurs, the words rolling into another groan as Kyouya grabs Hikaru's cock through his trousers, squeezing hard.
"I'm aware," Kyouya growls into his ear. "But you seem to have forgotten that I don't care what comes out of your mouth" – he pulls his hand away from Hikaru's crotch and brings it to the back of his head, pushing down – "only what goes in."
Haruhi takes her time choosing a dress to wear, fingers lingering over lace trims, tuille skirts and delicate embroidery, and eventually settles on a blue-lilac skater dress with a simple bow at the waist. She knows she wears it a lot – she doesn't even remember wearing some of the other dresses before – but she likes the colour. She brushes out her hair, absently thinking she ought to get it trimmed before it gets to her shoulders, and throws a few essential things in her bag, pulling on a cardigan. She pokes her head around the door of Hikaru's office, finding it empty yet again. She sighs and haltingly walks to the front door, checking the living room on the way and still finding nothing. She swallows and picks up a small gift, wrapped in gold tissue paper, from the hallway table before leaving the house.
At the café, Haruhi is shown to the familiar private lounge upstairs and settles into an armchair, sighing contentedly at the fat cushions and the smooth leather. She watches people out of the window, waiting and thinking, absently turning her gold wedding band around her finger. A strong breeze starts up outside and she pulls her cardigan closer around herself in sympathy, curling herself subconsciously into her armchair, thoughts a long way away. She doesn't notice anyone else in the room until she feels a gentle touch to her shoulder and almost leaps out of the chair.
"Woah, hey, I didn't mean to make you jump!" says Tamaki, a tentative laugh on his lips, hands up with his palms towards her. "Sorry!"
Haruhi sighs, one hand on her chest. "No, don't worry, I wasn't paying attention," she says. "You just startled me."
She gets up out of the chair and they hug. With her face in his chest, Haruhi breathes in – Tamaki smells the same as always: comforting and warm – and she squeezes him tighter. They eventually break apart and sit down in the armchairs, leaving their orders with the waiter.
"You look lovely," Tamaki says. "The colour suits you."
"Thanks," says Haruhi, a small smile appearing on her face. The compliment sits weirdly in the back of her mind in a way she doesn't understand and she shakes her head a little to distract herself. "Happy birthday."
She reaches into her bag and pulls out the wrapped present, holding it out to him. His face lights up with a grin and he takes it from her.
"You're so sweet, I didn't expect a present."
Haruhi laughs. "But it's your birthday and we arranged to celebrate."
"True," he says, running a finger along the taped-down edge of gold paper to open the present. "But really I just wanted to have a catch up with a good friend while I was in Tokyo."
"Well don't say you don't want the present," says Haruhi. "I spent a long time picking them out."
Tamaki laughs and pulls off the paper to reveal a red box, inside of which he finds a handsome pair of gold cufflinks. "They're wonderful," he says, gratitude shining in his eyes.
He leans over and hugs her again and the waiter re-appears with their drinks and a plate of finger sandwiches. The next few minutes pass with adding milk and sugar to their drinks and nibbling on the sandwiches.
"So what was it that had you so deep in thought?" he asks.
"Hmm?"
"When I came in and interrupted your reverie."
A small frown passes across Haruhi's face. "Oh... it's nothing. I'm fine."
Tamaki watches her move her gaze back to the window and the tiny, tentative touch she gives her wedding ring.
"How's Hikaru?" he asks, changing tactic, not quite as subtly as he would have liked.
She looks into his face again. "He's okay... I think."
"You think?"
She hesitates. "I... don't see him much right now."
"Oh..."
"Well I've been working a lot lately because I had a big case so I didn't really notice it much at first but he spends a lot of time at the office," she says, almost in a rush.
"So he's been working a lot too?" he asks.
"Yeah he has a lot of international clients he needs to liaise with pretty late because of time differences and I get that, I really do, and I'm glad he likes his work enough to be so dedicated but Kaoru never seems to have to spend as much time working," she says.
"That sounds frustrating," says Tamaki.
Haruhi sighs. "I try not to get upset about it but... it gets lonely, you know? He comes home after I go to bed sometimes and I have whole days where I don't see him... Ugh, I sound so whiny and clingy, I'm sorry."
"No it's completely understandable," he reassures her. "You don't have to apologise."
Haruhi shakes her head. "I know, just... I don't know, maybe it's just the whole 'marriage' thing, but it's just not like it used to be, not all the time anyway."
"Not all the time?"
"Well sometimes I don't see him for days," says Haruhi. "But then other times he comes home after a late finish and he's so sweet and loving and it's like I'm the only person in the world."
Tamaki pauses, unsure what to say. His hands falter on his teacup and he places it down gently, considering his words. He's not sure how much he can say to her: he's her friend – sure, they used to be a couple, but that was... a while ago, and things have changed – and so is Hikaru. What is there he can say without upsetting her? He can't bear to cause her any pain; she looks tired and stressed-out enough as it is, but there is an elephant in the room of Tamaki's mind that he's not sure she shares. He looks for a delicate approach to take but finds his thoughts interrupted.
"I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this," she says, staring into her coffee. "It's not your problem."
He sighs. "I care about you, Haruhi, I want you to be happy."
"I know but it seems so... I don't know, tacky I guess? To be telling you everything I mean."
"I don't see anything 'tacky' in confiding in someone you trust."
She puts down her cup. "I just... I don't know what to do."
"Well... Hikaru's not that complicated a guy," Tamaki tries. "You could just talk to him about stuff maybe?"
"What a novel idea, talking to my husband about our marital problems instead of whinging to someone else..." Haruhi picks at one of her sandwiches, eyes down.
Tamaki tilts his head sympathetically. "Have you talked to Kaoru about any of this?"
"A little." Haruhi keeps her eyes fixed on the sandwich. "He said Hikaru's been going abroad for stuff without him more, pulling a lot of late shifts and looking really tired. He said he thought Hikaru was working on new designs and stuff but then there isn't a lot to show for it."
Tamaki frowns, a little line appearing between his eyebrows that he would have made him freak out in earlier years. "So Kaoru doesn't get to see much of him either?"
Haruhi shakes her head. "Not unless they're both at work together."
Tamaki bites the inside of his lip on a reply, deciding it's better not to say anything. He can't do it – he can't bring himself to cause her any pain by putting into words what he's thinking. He can see the stress in her eyes and the set of her shoulders: a wordless anticipation of the truth that she doesn't dare entertain because to do so scares her too much. He can't deal the final blow and push her off the precipice where hope still lingers by her side.
Instead, he picks up the teapot and gestures to her with it.
"More tea?"
Later, when Haruhi's on her way home, she realises she hasn't heard anything nice about how she looks from Hikaru in a while. The compliment Tamaki paid her about her dress, still sitting in the back of her mind, sighs for her.
Kaoru gasps for breath as Kyouya's cock is pulled out of his mouth. He takes big gulps of air, grateful to already be on his trembling knees, even if he can't see past the blindfold or move his arms from the ropes. Kyouya grabs his shoulder and pulls him to his feet, throwing him forward so that his upper body smacks flat onto Kyouya's desk. He feels the cold dribble of lube and hears Kyouya unzip his trousers and then Kyouya's cock pushes into him, making him moan desperately.
"Like getting fucked, Kaoru?" he hears Kyouya growl and the words make him keen quietly. "Of course you do, you dirty little slut."
Kaoru shivers. Kyouya's never had much of a penchant for dirty talk before but lately he's been using it more and more often. Kaoru's not sure where it's come from. Not that he's complaining, just... curious.
Kaoru feels Kyouya's hand drift up his spine to the back of his neck. He wonders if Kyouya might remove the blindfold but then the hand stops and Kyouya's fingers turn downwards, wrapping themselves around Kaoru's throat.
Kaoru tenses. He's never been into breathplay much – it puts him on edge too much to enjoy himself – but sometimes (only if they've talked about it beforehand and only gently) he lets Kyouya do it. This was never mentioned earlier though, and as Kyouya starts gently squeezing Kaoru's throat with each thrust, Kaoru starts to shake.
"Ky–" he manages to gasp out between squeezes. Blind panic floods his system and he grasps in his compromised mind for the safeword. "Oura–" It's no use: Kyouya's getting faster and more insistent. With tears starting to dampen the blindfold, Kaoru does the last thing he can and clicks his fingers rapidly three times.
He hears a hissed gasp from behind him and Kyouya pulls out, hand leaving Kaoru's neck immediately. The blindfold is removed, along with the rope, and Kaoru stands up, turning to look at Kyouya. His golden eyes shine with tears, betrayal clear in his face, and Kyouya is staring at him wide-eyed.
"I'm sorry," he rasps. "I... don't know what happened, I... guess I just got carried away and too into the moment. I'm so sorry."
Kaoru lifts up a hand and wipes his wet cheek. "Please don't do it again."
"I won't," says Kyouya. "I promise. I'm so sorry."
Kaoru accepts the hug Kyouya pulls him into, still shaking, and feels a nasty thought raise its head inside him.