Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any of its characters. That would be Bisco Hatori. Same goes for the song "Bang Bang," it belongs to its creator; the version in mind here is Nancy Sinatra's, heard at the beginning of Kill Bill.

Warning: BL, boy's love, yaoi, M/M, lalala. Tamaki/Kyouya love (literally, here). Don't care for it, don't read it. Oh, and for those who hate sad endings, listen to the song…just what do you think this is going to be like? Also, lol clichés.

Author's Notes: This is the more mature part of the fic…and one of my least favorites, in the middle. Very experimental with style there and I don't know that it quite works. Anyway, again, please pay attention to suffixes – and this time, quotation marks in the lyrics, which would indicate Tamaki speaking (since Kyouya is singing). Enjoy!

X

Verse the Second
Seasons came and changed the time…

Summer dragged on for decades. Although its heat was more oppressive than usual, which surely meant the sun was shining fiercely, the world seemed not so bright as before. At last, however, time drifted and fell toward fall…and the start of school.

Wings splinted and heart bandaged but neither fully recovered, Kyouya arrived at school uncharacteristically late even for him after falling asleep fifteen minutes before his far-too-quiet alarm sounded. The teacher had just opened her mouth as he opened the door; he bowed his head apologetically and scanned the room, searching hastily for an empty desk.

"KYOU-YA!!"

A new, blank black notebook hit the ground with a sharp rap, accompanied by the thud of textbooks and clack of pens. The class watched, bemused, as the never-clumsy, always self-possessed and eternally masked Ootori stared openly dumbfounded at the friendly Suou. When the enthusiastic Frenchman leapt up to help the stunned bespectacled one, lightheartedly chiding him for his absence of mind, the awestruck silence exploded into a flurry of gossip and giggles.

As the teacher attempted to calm the swirling storm of speculation, the bluebird - now blue in truth, with his sharp new uniform - led the bewildered black one to the back of the room and the only two empty desks, prattling on as he seated them both. Feathers ruffled, Kyouya finally interrupted:

"Suou-san?"

"Ahhh," Tamaki sighed dramatically, placing the back of his wrist on his forehead in a gesture of longsuffering. "Have you forgotten already, Kyouya-kun? It is worse than I feared."

"Forgotten what?" a very wary Kyouya inquired.

Speaking right over him, the other teen continued. "When it said none of my messages had been received, I was ever so worried, okaa-san, you haven't the faintest idea…"

"What?" Too fast. "What messages?" Way too fast. "What did you call me?"

Tamaki practically sparkled, his radiant smile suddenly puncturing Kyouya's black sky and setting it alight as he gushed "What messages?! I only called you every day, my silly Kyouya! We have to plan the birth of our beloved club, after all!"

"You…called me?"

"Yes, yes!" the shining blond affirmed a tad impatiently. "I suppose you really didn't get any of my messages, so I'll just have to tell you in person. I was thinking we could—"

"Why?"

The star of everyone's conversations and one particular someone's life blinked quizzically.

"Why? Why shouldn't I ha—oh…" Knowledge dawned on his smooth features, but far from casting a shadow over his face, it remained impeccably sunny as he giggled nervously. "I am sorry about that. I trust you suffered no, ah, lasting damage?" At Kyouya's terse nod, he breathed a mildly exaggerated sigh of relief before sobering.

"You know, though," he continued solemnly, "I did realize something."

Kyouya's pulse quickened. Ever so cautiously, he asked.

"What?"

"Clubs can't deny anyone!" the bright-eyed blond revealed, growing animated again. "We would never think of crushing someone's dreams, of course, but that means we have to cater to male customers as well! Not that that's a bad thing, not at all, just something to keep in mind. For, after all," he winked, cupping his chin between thumb and forefinger, "a host must be versatile, no?"

"…but of course," a strangely crushed Kyouya murmured in reply. What had he been expecting? An admission of love? Hardly. The bit about dreams, though, that was classic. Classic Tamaki. The idiot. What the hell did he know of dreams, much less their fragility? They were practically made to be broken.

But just as suddenly as depression and bitterness had set in, he felt the countering force of determination rise within him. Whether or not he believed in fate had nothing to do with it: he had been given this one last chance for a reason. Only a complete and utter fool—only a Tamaki—would squander it. And whether or not he believed in impossibility was irrelevant: he would make it possible. Impotence was only part of his vocabulary because of the need to describe others. So it was that, against the backdrop of finally fading conversations and the bluebird's bright chirp explaining all his wacky, foolish and impossible schemes, an Ootori vow was formed.

He would win the heart of Suou Tamaki or die trying.

"Thank you, Tamaki," he finally cut the overexcited, glowing boy off without expressing anywhere near just how very thankful he was, "but I believe class is finally about to start."

"Oh! Of course!" Despite all his shortcomings, which while incredibly numerous were for the most part easy for Kyouya to ignore, Tamaki was a good student. As the teacher began to talk, however, he leaned confidentially over.

"One more thing though, Kyouya. Now that we're creating this club together, I don't want you to call me 'Tamaki' anymore."

"Oh?" Kyouya asked absently, flipping open his notebook and neatly writing the title of the lesson.

"Mm-mn!" The blond shook his head enthusiastically. "From now on, you have to call me otou-sama."

"OTOU-SAMA?!" squealed a nearby classmate as Kyouya's right eyebrow shot up.

The rest of the period was a complete loss.

X

When I grew up, I called him mine…

It was their second year, and the Host Club was a smashing success. Kyouya really was amazed by how prosperous such a venture could be, provided Tamaki wasn't allowed to waste all their earnings on ridiculous things like unnecessary, expensive treats and "mood setters." Really, that man was so caught up in pleasing everyone else, he was like to drive himself into bankruptcy without even noticing, and then what would he do?

Haruhi, their new "daughter" according to the ever imaginative lord host, was most helpful in that regard. Her commoner coffee - remembering the incident still required Kyouya suppress a smirk - had become surprisingly popular, replacing the much more costly brand they had hitherto supplied. She was excellent at accidentally convincing Tamaki of the virtues of living simply and also inspired various (failing) efforts to show sympathy or to make Haruhi "more at ease."

Nonetheless, however the twins might tease about Tamaki being wrapped around Haruhi's oblivious little finger, there was only one person the charismatic blond belonged to.

That, of course, was Kyouya.

X

He would always laugh and say…

Even in possessing or being possessed by someone else, though, it is impossible to command or be commanded in every little action. Sometimes the specific action or habit in question does not bear addressing; it isn't worth the risk of disharmony or unpleasantries. Other times it is simply natural, uncontrollable, something that could not be repressed even if the person acting wished to stop.

In the case of Kyouya and Tamaki, whether or not the action was a conscious one was debatable. It was, however, most certainly not worth mentioning, Kyouya had decided. No matter how much this particular deed distressed him, he never once seriously considered bringing it up. Resolution or self-sacrifice; whatever the label or mask, he simply did not mention it.

It wasn't even a terrible habit, really, he had persuaded himself. Certainly Tamaki never meant it to be so. It was just that, in spite of being the one who insisted on the nickname, Tamaki had to giggle every time Kyouya called him "otou-sama." This could be very, ah, inconvenient at times, namely when others were around to hear and wonder - or, in the twins' case, torment.

But there were other times Kyouya found it worse, enough to wish he really did have absolute control over his lord. When he was quite literally under pressure to call him father, being tickled and teased and prodded and puppeted under Tamaki's knowing hands, to hear that giggle in response to his heartfelt cry was…demeaning. It made him feel like a designator, someone Tamaki catered to and controlled the emotions of but never really cared for. Particularly because it always meant that, immediately or sometime later, Tamaki would feel compelled to apologize yet again for the way he reacted back then. Sometimes these apologies were accompanied by a teasing exploration to make sure he hadn't done any permanent damage; sometimes they were followed by a sigh. But they were always preluded by that nervous, embarrassed giggle.

X

"Remember when we used to play,

Bang bang?"

It was late, and the rest of the club had already gone home. Kyouya always stayed behind, working on balancing finances or checking stocks or even doing what little homework they were assigned. His home's atmosphere wasn't exactly motivating. Not that he'd call it a "home," really. Recently, Tamaki had often hurried to his "home" after excusing himself, rarely with grace and frequently discomposed enough for even Haruhi to realize something was amiss.

Tonight, however, Tamaki had chosen to stay, presumably brainstorming host ideas for winter. Kyouya knew better, of course; kotatsu were inevitable, and anything further was out of the question, as he had explicitly told the king. Why he had stayed, then, the darker king did not know.

Until, that was, Tamaki opened his mouth.

"Remember the last day of middle school?"

Ah. Feeling guilty again. Tick tap tap, he continued typing, clearly displaying his disinterest in another apology.

"I remember, otou-sama."

And there it was, the nervous giggle. Predictable.

"I really am sorry about that, you know. The…running, and everything."

Tap tap tap. Not interested.

"I know."

"…you forgive me, right?"

Tap tap. As if there was any question.

"Haven't I already?" was the verbal remark.

Tamaki ducked his head in front of the screen, obscuring it, and frowned as Kyouya continued tapping regardless.

"Well, sure, but I…I mean, what I did was…"

Tap.

X

"I shot you down,

Bang bang…"

Sighing, Kyouya removed his hands from the keyboard and pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

"I know, Tamaki. Believe me. I remember more vividly than you can imagine."

"But you forgive me, right??" The increasingly, ridiculously frantic blond was now actually standing between him and his laptop, completely preventing any work from being done. Not that Kyouya had truly been able to work over the sound of his heart pounding since Tamaki had announced he would linger later that evening. "It's okay?"

"Yes, Tamaki. It's okay. I forgive you."

"Even though I--"

"YES, dammit, Suou! How many times do I have to say it? I. Forgive. You."

A broad grin spread over what was but a moment ago a cloudy, over-concerned face as Tamaki hugged his pardoner with overflowing gratitude. He really did have a knack for creating awkward situations - which he, of course, never found awkward at all.

"Tamaki."

"Yes?" the addressed blinked innocently up.

"You're in my lap."

"Ah, so I am," he murmured. It seemed he also had a knack for convincing you that they weren't awkward, either.

"Would you mind moving?"

"Not at all," the blond replied smoothly, the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank-"

X

"You hit the ground…"

Within moments Kyouya had been spilled out of his chair and pinned effortlessly to the ground by a once again graceful Tamaki, who now occupied not his lap but the entire length of his body.

Each boy blinked, one innocently, the other in surprise. Then each grinned and pulled the other toward him.

After a long, breath-taking, meeting in which Kyouya had all the air forcibly sucked from his lungs, they paused, already breathing heavily.

"Familiar, isn't it?" asked a flushed Tamaki, hair ruffled and all the more beautiful for it. "You, on the ground…"

"Oh, shut up," Kyouya growled fondly, and interrupted Tamaki's coy smile with an attack of his own.

X

"Bang bang…"

They took their time. No one was around to see. There were no patrols on the grounds, no one left on campus after this hour. They knew. They had checked.

They tried everything they cared to and more. Just because one was a disfavored heir and the other a third son didn't mean they at all lacked for wealth to waste. And while Kyouya generally preferred to invest his funds, well…even he had to admit to a need for more, ah, personal investment.

Although they started out the evening with toys – choosing from feathers, neko and maid outfits, piano benches, cages; whatever they wanted was at their disposal - at some point they had grown irritated with everything getting in the way. Tamaki had stayed away too long for them to need extra stimuli. Now, had they been lucid enough to note, they would have found themselves in plain view of the door, lacking all articles of clothing - even garters - and making noise enough to wake the dead.

But, of course, they weren't.

Kyouya moaned heatedly under Tamaki's hands and body and everything, trapped beneath and sharing his sweat. So long, it had been so long since he'd decided to linger and it felt so good, he couldn't even notice the little details about the room he usually did, how that tile there was chipped or how the bottom of the walls' coloration did funny things in this light, all he could think was Tamaki, Tamaki, Tamaki, and all he could say was "Tamaki, Tamaki, Tamaki," chanting for dear breath, until he could feel it, feel death in his twitching fingertips pressed hard against the floor, feel life thrumming through his body as they pulsated as one and together they soared and all he could say as he jerked back and up a puppet on a string was

"OTOUUU-SAMAAAAAAAAA!!!"

X

That awful sound…

Giggle.

He could hear it.

A shy giggle. Nervous. Self-conscious. Embarrassed, even.

Amidst all the panting and sweating and spinning, the living and dreaming and dying, lying pressed there against the floor, Kyouya - was that his name..? - could hear a giggle.

It came from far away. Somewhere above him. Another world, perhaps. Summoned from his - Kyouya's - deepest, most hated hell. Deeper even than the family that stifled him, guaranteed he could be nothing. That giggle made him worse than nothing.

He clenched a wet, shaking fist, focusing his anger into it so he could bottle it and lock it away again.

But no. Not quick enough. Never quick or good enough. Some was escaping.

Damn.

Just after - hell, during - the most intimate act two people could commit…

Tamaki giggled, and hot tears leaked down Kyouya's cheeks.

X

Bang bang…

"Well!" said Tamaki, pulling on his shirt.

"Well."

"Hm? What's wrong, Kyouya?"

Tamaki, while usually dense, was always most intuitive just when you didn't want him to be. Like most people, only to the umpteenth degree. That was Tamaki, though; everything to the utmost degree.

"Nothing, Tamaki. Nothing's wrong."

A slight pause; a slight period of relief, and then,

"Are you happy?"

Yes, this is Tamaki, Kyouya thought silently. Always concerned for the well-being and happiness of others, above anything else…even truth.

"I'm happy," said the hypocrite.

"Good!"

They fell silent again, tidying themselves up and gathering their things.

"I suppose it's about time to go then, ne," remarked Tamaki, bright as ever, even this close to midnight. He moved to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, okaa-san!"

"Tamaki."

"Hm?"

The quizzical, blissfully ignorant expression on his face was almost too much to bear disrupting, but Kyouya had to know. Even if he couldn't know everything, even though he didn't want to know everything, he had to know this one thing.

"Are you…are you happy, Tamaki?"

X

"I used to shoot you down…"

Far from expected, the usual drama king paused and adopted a thoughtful expression.

"Happy…? Why wouldn't I be happy? Everything's going so great!"

"Happy isn't the same as great, or good or fine or even content, Tamaki," Kyouya rebuked with a slightly offended growl. "I don't want to know if you're doing well or feeling good. I don't want to know if "everything" is fine or great or spectacular. I want to know: are you, you, Suou Tamaki, happy?"

For once the talkative host appeared mute. This second instance of abnormal behavior in as few minutes was enough to elicit concern from the silent one, who was rarely as incautious with his masks as this, but his lover quickly recovered.

"Yes, Kyouya, I think…I think I am happy."

"You think? Why don't you know?"

"Well…" He was looking thoughtful again, but more sparkly than before. Most likely, he had another of his madcap ideas. Surely that was all. "There's just one thing I can think of that would make me happier."

"Oh?" Externally the façade was cool as glass and composed once more, aside from some residual warmth, but Kyouya's heart quickened at his words, despite any rational warnings that it sounded just like a line he'd feed to his customers. "What's that?"

He didn't giggle, but he flushed and looked so embarrassed Kyouya was surprised he hadn't.

"Well…I wasn't prepared for today, but…"

All too painfully aware that if he asked any of the multiple questions he had, Tamaki would take three times as long to explain, Kyouya remained silent.

"You know I'm sorry - and I know you forgive me," he hastened to add as Kyouya started to look irritated, "but…I can't believe I ever turned you down, okaa-san." He bridged the gap between them and was lightly gripping his shoulders before Kyouya could even blink. "So, I wanted to ask…"

Not a word, Kyouya admonished himself. You cannot speak a word. Don't you dare lead him on.

His thought chant and pulse intensified as Tamaki slowly, carefully took his left hand and knelt on one knee before him.

"Ootori Kyouya…"

Not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a word not a wor-

"…will you marry me?"

Not a word could Kyouya speak. Not a word, except:

"A-..ahh."

X

Index: "Okaa-san" means "mother," and it's fairly respectful. "Otou-sama" means more like "highly respected father." Kotatsu are explained in episode 24… Oh, and when Tamaki says "ne," it's like saying "huh," making it a question (if mostly rhetorical).

More Notes?: Yes, that's a yes! Mori's type of yes, to be exact. And things will get just a bit happier…but lasting's another matter. Please review, the last two parts will be up shortly!