Title;; Whispers of Love
Genre;; General/Romance/Angst/AU/ A bit of comedy
Chapter(s);; 4/?
Pairing(s);; Tamaki x Kyouya && Tamaki x Haruhi
Rating;; T - For now.
Warning(s);; A bit of swearing, and display of boy-love.
Feedback;; Is love. Comments make my day.
Summary;; Sometimes, it's difficult for someone to realize and admit that they're deeply in love. Especially if you were someone like Ootori Kyouya. Sometimes... some people just need a bit of help to fully realizing it. This someone...was Suou Tamaki.
Disclaimer;; I, in no way, shape or form do not own Ouran High School Host Club. Though…it doesn't hurt to dream, now does it? D:

Whispers of Love

Chapter 4

Kyouya wasn't sure how he ended up where he was now: sitting next to an over-excited blonde in a surprisingly cozy night club. In fact, he was sure he's never been to such a place in his life. Lights dimmed, the walls were decorated with scattered shadows against it's champagne-colored walls, giving the night club that certain bit of 'oomph' that it needed to make anyone relaxed and just feel at ease from a long day's worth of stress. Though, Kyouya couldn't say that he was stressed at the moment. A bit annoyed for being dragged out of his home maybe, but not stressed.

He sighed softly to himself as the man next to him paused briefly amidst his chatter to take a sip of his drink and avert his amethyst orbs to the chattering people that occupied the booths and bar of the building. A bit of an hour and a half ago, he had scorned Tamaki for breaking expensive dishware once he had stepped foot in his kitchen. To say that his kitchen was a complete and utter mess would be an understatement. To be honest, it was plain chaos. It was enough to make Kyouya shove Tamaki out of the kitchen and set to work immediately on cleaning and restoring his kitchen to the way it was before Tamaki laid dangerous hands on his cookware and utensils, and tell him to never lay a hand on anything breakable all the while the blonde continuously repeated his apologies and offered to help clean. Instead, he just told him to put away the grocery he had bought. In that moment while Kyouya was cleaning and Tamaki was putting away his friend's grocery for him, it made the calculating young man smile to himself as he watched the taller man from the corner of his eye as they moved fluently around the kitchen. It was as if Tamaki knew where everything went and how Kyouya liked his items placed a certain way like the back of his hand, and, oddly enough, it made Kyouya feel….he just couldn't describe it. Perhaps special because Tamaki remembered such a small thing, maybe – Kyouya would never know.

After nearly everything was somewhat back to normal, Kyouya couldn't help but ask Tamaki what he was trying to cook; it made the blonde grin brightly and offer an explanation that he was trying to cook a special dish he learned from his mother back in France, and he thought that it would be something he would enjoy eating. All though Kyouya wasn't sure if he should allow Tamaki back within his kitchen, he told him he could continue where he left off, but he stayed to watch Tamaki with a careful eye. Just sitting there watching Tamaki turn around to offer him a smile every now and then while he was cooking made Kyouya offer a small one back in return; his smiles always were contagious. Even as they ate together once Tamaki was finished, Tamaki always raised his eyes to lock with his – in the end, it ended with Kyouya directing his eyes smoothly and Tamaki chuckling with a shake of his head as he commented of his okaa-san being so cute. Even till this day, it creeped Tamaki out just a bit to even so much THINK that Kyouya could still be cuter than his Haruhi, but he was brought out of musings when a sock-claded foot met his shin painfully and he nearly doubled over if it wasn't for the glare his friend shot him, telling him not to describe him as such a thing silently.

They ate in silence, Kyouya unsure of what to say and Tamaki constantly staring at him as he ate. It was only after they ate and their dishes were washed up (Tamaki offered to wash them while telling Kyouya to rest) that Tamaki suggested that they go out somewhere. Of course, Kyouya didn't feel like going. He had just returned from a day out, but Tamaki did not want to hear such a thing. "I want to spend time with you, Kyouya" were his words, and how could Kyouya possibly refuse when Tamaki was practically begging him with those amethyst orbs of his, standing in the doorway of his kitchen?

So, here he was sitting in one of many booths in a cozy night club that played soothing jazz. He crossed his right leg over his left as he adjusted himself against the cushioned seat of the booth, careful to not hit his foot against Tamaki's leg again like he had at his apartment flat. They had done nothing but sit, drink and talk, trying to catch up with each other; Kyouya wanting to ask of Haruhi's whereabouts. After all, Tamaki was Haruhi's fiancé. It just seemed a bit odd to Kyouya to see Tamaki by himself without the petite woman at his side. Even as they're conversation sizzled down just a bit due to Tamaki wanting to intake of how the building had changed from the last time he'd stepped foot in it, Kyouya found himself opening his mouth to ask the question that had been bothering him the moment he stepped foot out of his apartment.

"Tamaki," Kyouya called to the blonde halfer, and he waited for his eyes to focus on him fully before practically forcing himself to continue. "How is Haruhi these days? I haven't seen her since the two of you got back."

Tamaki smiled at Kyouya's words, propping his elbow onto the edge of the white clothe covered table. "She's great! Actually, she went to stay with her 'mother' for the night." he said with a sure nod of his head, and Kyouya was starting to regret the decision of ever asking once Tamaki continued on.

"Speaking of Haru-chan, we've finally set a date, you know." Tamaki said with a warm smile. "I know we've pushed it back so many times before, it's just that a lot of things came up and it just seemed that it wasn't quite the right time to hold a wedding. But now, everything seems as it should and we've decided that in the next two or three months that our wedding will be held. Oh Kyouya, I can see it now! Hunni and Mori…" As he continued about his vision of his and Haruhi's wedding and who would be attending, his eyes seemed to be focused else where, as if in a dream-like daze, because Kyouya was thankful that his brightly shining eyes weren't on him; Tamaki wouldn't have the opportunity of seeing the look that crossed Kyouya's face at the sound of practically hearing his heart crack ever so slowly. He looked…happy. He was actually set on marrying the girl that he'd practically ran off with, and Kyouya wasn't sure if he should just sit and play the aloof character he's upheld for years, or…

"You'll be there…won't you, Kyou-chan?"

When Tamaki turned to him with a hopeful smile, eyes still glimmering brightly, Kyouya couldn't help but toss his thoughts to the wind (and ignore the silly nickname he addressed him with for the time being) and easily slip in the role he's always played like the pro that he was. He smirked softly and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.

"Of course I will, Tamaki."

It was better to just go through with everything as if it didn't faze him, and hope to God that he didn't break in the process of it all.

Kyouya had lost count of how many alcoholic drinks he had consumed and the numerous cigarettes he smoked. He could tell that Tamaki didn't approve of his unhealthy habit, but Kyouya just couldn't find it in himself to even care. Kyouya ignored the way Tamaki's nose twitched in distaste with the way he blew a string of smoke too close to his face. His cigarettes were the only thing that calmed his nervous and stopped his hands from shaking whenever Tamaki brought up Haruhi so many times. Don't get him wrong, he did not hate Haruhi. In fact, he had always thought of her as being amusing and interesting with the way she caught on to things so easily and her blunt nature; it was a completely different thing when it came bubbling down to that little knowing fact that Haruhi was going to take Tamaki away from him for good in the next two or three months – hell, probably sooner depending on how things went, or whatnot. He didn't own Tamaki in no way, shape, or form, but it was just how he felt. Being this close to his best friend like so long ago when they were teens was just enough for him for the meantime (he forced himself to believe that it was enough), but when he will leave again Kyouya didn't know if he'll be as calm and collected like the last time Tamaki left some time after graduation. He just didn't know if he'll be able to stand and watch Tamaki walk out on him for the second time around in his life.

He missed how Tamaki got over excited over such little things and the thoughtful conversations they shared, although a bit idiotic and pointless babble at some points, but nonetheless amusing. He missed his smiles and the way his eyes twinkled so brightly his way, as if those eyes were made specifically to always shine that brightly whenever he looked at him. Hell, he even missed those longer-than-the-normal bear hugs Tamaki was known for and being called okaa-san. Admitting that took a hell of a lot of nerve in Kyouya's book. After some time he had pieced together why he was admitting such thoughts to himself; he was drunk, and was currently being led out of the night club and into the cold, wintry weather outside. He flinched as a cold gust of wind hit his face, but the arm around his waist to keep him steady distracted him by the warmth it contained.

"Kyouya," Tamaki tisked as they walked, keeping his good friend steady and balanced as much as he could in the other's drunken state, "You shouldn't have drunk so much." Although he was trying to be stern and scold him, a chuckle could be heard beneath his words and he couldn't help but smile as Kyouya shot him an unfocused glare.

"You dranked just as much as I did," Kyouya pointed out.

"I wasn't the one requesting refills." Tamaki countered, and Kyouya blinked at him before smirking.

"Touché," Kyouya murmured with a light chuckle.

Kyouya tried to push himself away from Tamaki, feeling that he was very much capable of walking correctly himself. After all, Tamaki was never there to begin with whenever he was like the way he was now, but he wasn't always out and about either when he chose to drink so heavily. Tamaki simply tightened his arm around Kyouya's slim waist, and he wasn't sure if he should lean more into Tamaki's warmth or not. Even as they awaited for Tamaki's own private limo to pick them up and drive them back to Kyouya's apartment complex he was torn between resting his full weight against him, but when he finally made his decision to do so he was being tugged carefully towards a limo that pulled up along the curb.

During the ride back to the apartment complex, Tamaki couldn't fight the sudden feeling to just smile. He didn't know why, but seeing Kyouya in his current state, slightly confused with a tint of red staining his cheeks, just…he couldn't explain it. Even as he carefully situated Kyouya first inside the limo before sliding him self in and closing the door behind him before telling the driver the name of the destination, he'd been watching Kyouya all night. He always watched his okaa-san, even when they were back in school, but he never really noticed how much he truly missed being with Kyouya until tonight. Last night –well . . . early morning – was just a sample of the longing he felt compared to now. He refused to acknowledge that his past feelings for his best friend were resurfacing slowly; surely, but slowly. He could remember a time in his adolescent years where the thought of just wanting to hold Kyouya always sent him in a flurry of emotions, which, in result, always caused him to act so oddly (more so than the usual) when suddenly approached by said person. Now –

Tamaki was brought out of his musings when he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. He blinked once, twice, before he turned his head only to feel strands of hair pressing against the side of his cheek and tickling the underside of his chin. He hadn't fully realized that Kyouya's head was actually resting on his shoulder until a few seconds ticked by, and a faint scribble of red tinted his cheeks. It took him longer to piece together that Kyouya had passed out. It seemed like it to him anyway, otherwise Kyouya would have never done such an uncharacteristic action.

"K-Kyouya?" He called, the pitch in his voice nearly squeaking in surprise, to the dark-haired man, but all that met his words was the shifting of Kyouya's lean frame against his side. He was completely stiff in his seat, unsure of what to do, and panicked mentally at the feel of his heartbeat thumping faster against his ribcage at the sheer closeness and contact. Kyouya was so close that he could practically smell the scent of shampoo he uses to wash his hair, the brand of cigarettes he smokes, and the faint smell of his cologne. As he unconsciously leaned in a bit more, he could smell Kyouya's own unique scent blended amongst all the others. He doesn't like the cigarette smoke that taints Kyouya's own unique smell, but it's the fact that it's apart of what makes Kyouya that makes Tamaki welcome it all the same. He even gave in to the strong temptation of resting his head atop of Kyouya's, not minding the dark, shorter strands that tickle his cheek, and he closed his eyes as a small smile curves at the edges of his lips.

Sadly to say (in Tamaki's case), they arrived back to the apartment complex faster than he would have liked, and a pout fought its way to the surface when his driver told him from the front seat of the vehicle that they had arrived. Tamaki sighed softly, remaining seated within his spot for a little bit longer before thanking the driver and opening the door. It took him a while, but he managed to somehow awaken Kyouya from his short-lived blackout. In fact, he had even asked the blonde how they ended up back at the apartment complex once he noticed his surroundings, a genuine look of drunken confusion playing across his features. Any type of thought – hope, even – that may have believed that Kyouya had leaned against him purposely during the ride back was tossed in the wind, and Tamaki found himself laughing aloud to ignore the strange sinking feeling he felt in his chest. Once again, he was looked oddly at by Kyouya before the dark-haired beauty shook his head and started ahead of Tamaki to make his way to his proper floor where his flat resided.

Tamaki followed behind him closely, just to make sure that Kyouya didn't hurt himself or anything. He noticed that every once in a while Kyouya looked as if he was going to loose his balance, and he held the other's shoulders from behind, only to be swatted away and told that he was fine, but being the type of person Tamaki is, he continuously insisted on following his friend all the way to his front door and watch as Kyouya searched his pockets for his keys. Even when Kyouya found his keys and unlocked the door to his flat, he stood rooted to his spot, simply watching him.

Kyouya gave him a look as he turned around and stared back, leaning against the frame of his doorway with his arms folded across his chest. The two men were at a lost of words for what to say. Kyouya just wasn't the type to outright thank someone unless, of course, business related for everything going smoothly and according to plan. And Tamaki, well, he was too caught up in the feeling of spending tonight alone. Haruhi was with her 'mother', and the flat they were currently occupying until after the holidays was painfully quiet. He wasn't looking forward to…

"Would you like to come in for tea? You're welcome to stay if you don't want to spend the night alone while Haruhi is away for the night."

The blonde raised his eyes to stare at Kyouya with surprise, yet he was only met with the retreating back of his friend, though the door was left wide open. Tamaki stayed rooted to his spot for a second before a wide smile surfaced to curve at the corners of his lips. It amazed him how much Kyouya could read him – still read him after his long absence away. With a bright chuckle, he walked inside and closed the door softly behind him before toeing off his shoes to line them up sloppily besides Kyouya's neatly lined shoes against the wall.

"Tea would be nice, thank you." He called out to Kyouya as the other began to flip light switches and peel off his winter coat before offering to take Tamaki's and place the two articles of clothing in his room.

Kyouya called out that he was going to take a shower, leaving Tamaki to relax and take in as much of Kyouya's flat as possible. Meanwhile, in his shower, Kyouya nearly wanted to kick himself for offering his space to Tamaki for the night. It wasn't that he didn't, he'd done so many times when younger (mostly, Tamaki invited himself over), but this was a different circumstance. He blamed his mind for still being a bit under the alcohol's influence for causing him not to think over his words before they ended up flying straight out of his mouth. That's right; if he hadn't drunk so much like he did tonight he wouldn't have made such an idiotic, mindless slipup. He couldn't be upset with himself now, because what was done was done, and he simply couldn't shove Tamaki out because he didn't know why he felt the way he did and he didn't have any control over it whenever the other man was around him. Shaking his head, Kyouya sighed heavily and scrubbed frustratingly at his dark locks, lathering the shampoo in his hair more until the lather covered his tightly closed eyes completely.

By the time Kyouya stepped out of his bathroom, adorned in his silk bathrobe and rubbing lightly at his drenched locks with a towel, there were three things that he noticed wrong about his room. First, his nightstand lamp was on; secondly, there were clothes strewn about the room – clothes that did not belong to him might he add; and thirdly, there was someone in his bed. Of course it was Tamaki, currently taking up the side of the bed that he usually slept on. A light frown crossed his features as a loud sigh passed his lips. He had the sudden urge to just wake the blonde idiot for inviting himself in his bed, as if it was the most common thing to do. He didn't even ask him if he could sleep on his side of the bed! But, then again, he probably would have told him 'no' anyway, and then it would have, most likely, turned out with Tamaki whining childishly like an idiot and Kyouya wanting nothing more but to shove him out if he was going to fuss and work on his nerves in the end.

Walking closer to his bed –still towel-drying his hair– Kyouya raised his foot to nudge Tamaki's back, but the blonde sighed softly in his slumber and turned so that he was laying on his back, and Kyouya gazed at him before lowering his leg with a 'tsk'. Even though he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to wake Tamaki so abruptly. No, not when he looked so…peacefully asleep. Kyouya lowered his towel from his locks so it draped around his neck before sitting onto the edge of the bed close to Tamaki's laying form, but not close enough to disturb him from his slumber. Without his glasses on, Kyouya couldn't see Tamaki's face from afar, but being this close to him he could make out his golden locks and his dark eyelashes that fluttered every time his nose twitched. The other's action caused an unexpected smile to surface across Kyouya's lips. Some how, he had forgotten how Tamaki looked when he slept, believe it or not. At some point in time, he found himself wanting to forget, but now…

Without thinking, Kyouya reached out a hand to brush aside Tamaki's blonde fringe from his eyes, but his fingertips ended up softly tracing his forehead. It was a feathery touch, and Kyouya blinked at the tender action he'd committed. It came off at a bit of shock at first, but he found himself trailing his fingertips over the other's somewhat thick, blonde eyebrows and took in the texture of it before tracing softly at Tamaki's eyebrows. Soon, it was the slope of his nose and cheekbones, his chin…his lips. His fingertips were trembling – for reasons unknown to him – as he outlined Tamaki's slightly-parted lips; he was painting a picture. It was the most gorgeous painting he's ever done after such a long time after giving up painting and drawing all together long ago… but he couldn't remember ever seeing any of his paintings – sketches, even – flutter their eyes open and gaze up at him the moment his fingertips moved to paint once more over the cheekbones.

Before he knew it he was staring down at amethyst eyes that glittered with something unknown to him, and it took a moment for Kyouya to piece together that Tamaki was very much awake against his throbbing heart. His dark orbs widened and his fingers halted against the art piece that stared at him, and in the moment Kyouya was at lose of what to do. He had been caught red handed for doing something that he hoped not to be caught doing. Hell, he had even – at some point – told himself to just stop while he was ahead, but he couldn't help himself. He knew that Tamaki would awake if he continued, so why didn't he stop? For fuck's sake, why didn't he just stop?

Holding Tamaki's gaze made Kyouya feel awkward, out of place for being caught doing something so out of hand. And so, the only thing that came to Kyouya was to just turn and leave – flee and act as if nothing had happened. It was childish, yet it was the only thing that came to him. So, he snatched his hands away and turned to leave, but Tamaki was quicker and held tightly on to Kyouya's slim wrist, preventing the other man from leaving.

"Kyouya–"

"Let go of me." Kyouya demanded all too harshly against his rapidly pounding heart as he cut Tamaki off and tried pulling his wrist away, but Tamaki's hold only tightened and he pushed himself off the bed to hold Kyouya still. Kyouya was persistent and continuously tried freeing himself, not sure when he started pushing at Tamaki's chest the moment he noticed the blonde was too close for comfort, and it didn't make matters better when he noticed the other man was wearing nothing but a pair of his boxers. Against his demands of letting him go Tamaki continued to call his name, and it only made Kyouya mad for reasons unknown to himself. He glared upward at Tamaki and cursed him for being just a bit taller, because the height advantage allowed Tamaki to divert the both of them to the side of the room where he pinned Kyouya against the wall, holding his wrists with his somewhat larger hands against the wall on either side of his head.

"Why," Tamaki breathed, a bit tired with practically struggling with Kyouya to stop him from fleeing away from him, "are you running away from me?"

"Why are you so goddamn infuriating?" Kyouya spat, his eyes narrowing. He tried once again to free himself, but Tamaki only held his wrist tighter, causing Kyouya to wince.

"Infuriating? Me?" Tamaki questioned in disbelief, his own eyes narrowing. "Kyouya–"

"That's right, you. You've always been infuriating, and I never asked for this." Kyouya hissed, and Tamaki was beginning to grow mad suddenly. He didn't like the way Kyouya glared at him so heatedly, and he sure as hell didn't enjoy the feeling that he got that this could lead to something he wouldn't be able to turn away from – not with the way he kept pressing on for answer that would lead to Kyouya saying something that would maybe, just maybe, make everything change between the both of them.

"What do you mean? I don't understand what you're talking about." Tamaki huffed frustratingly with a shake of his head, all though he tried his hardest to speak softly, yet firmly, but Kyouya was making things difficult, and he simply hated when Kyouya did that.

"I never asked to feel this way." Kyouya hissed out suddenly, all though a bit rushed, but it certainly gained Tamaki's attention. "I never asked to feel lonely when you left after graduation. I never asked to feel so fucking frustrated over these feelings that plagued me for years after you left, and I sure as hell didn't ask for you to pop back up in my life and act as if everything is all right. I find you to be so fucking infuriating; I don't even know what to do anymore!" Kyouya was venting endlessly, and he found himself believing that it was the alcohol that fueled him to go on, fueled him to ignore the widening of Tamaki's eyes as his amethyst orbs gazed at him, and it pushed Kyouya to continue on. He found himself spilling everything that he's pinned up for so long under Tamaki's gaze, and he couldn't bring himself to look away, let alone stop himself from talking. But the more he talked, the more he became angry for not having more control over his feelings and not knowing completely why he felt the way he did, so when he found himself breathing heavily after venting out his feelings, he narrowed his eyes and lowered his gaze completely. Tamaki's grip on him had slackened and he pushed the blonde away from him, watching as the blonde stumbled back.

"Why am I even wasting my time trying to explain something that even I have no control over knowing myself?" Kyouya murmured his question under his breath, raising a hand to firmly plant his palm against his forehead. He was at a loss, he felt light-headed, and he wanted nothing more but to escape the gaze he could feel on him.

Tamaki, believe it or not, could see the years-worth of time Kyouya spent creating his flawless Noh-like façade to mask his true emotions behind were shattering right before his very eyes from where he stood. This Kyouya – this true Kyouya – looked confused, lost, and, dare he say it, heartbroken. His heart twisted and ached for the other and his eyes softened once Kyouya's words finally sunk in. Of ever knowing Kyouya, he had never seen this side of him before, all though perhaps once when Kyouya had jacked him up good when they first met each other, but he never seen Kyouya in this state, and it drove him to do something – anything – to try and calm him.

"Kyouya," Tamaki called out softly to his friend, but said man refused to look at him. He inched slowly towards Kyouya and reached out to touch his arm, but the other flinched way from his touch, nearly turning his back on him. Kyouya's actions didn't faze Tamaki at all, and he simply reached out again. This time, he made a move to grasp Kyouya's elbow and turn him around so the slightly shorter man was facing him.

"Don't touch me." Kyouya warned at the feel of Tamaki turning him around to face him and his free hand coming in contact with his chin to tilt his head upward. He wanted to hate Tamaki, and he was sure that at some point he did. He hated him for making these unknown feelings bubble within the pit of his stomach when they were so close, hated him for even making him feel as if Tamaki had practically left him long ago to run off with Haruhi instead of remain by his side. But what he hated the most was how Tamaki made him feel when his lips pressed so tenderly against his own, holding him in place with his piano fingers.

No...

He hated Tamaki for making him respond back to his kiss and so willingly wrap his arms slowly around Tamaki's neck, frightening himself that he was cooperating so freely and, for once in his life, just feeling and going along with it instead of ignoring and upholding the role he's been playing for years on end.

A/N;; . . . . . . .

I've seriously been gone for way too long. But, I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I intend on finishing this story to the very end. I won't lie, the thought of giving up has played across my mind, and I even thought about taking this down. College hasn't been giving me the time I would like to spend on writing all day and making your readers happy, but life seems to not want to do that and sends a writer's block my way for the longest. I've complained of a writer's block in the last chapter I think, but this one seemed to not want to leave, so I placed this story on a bit of a hiatus (if you've been keeping up with my profile, I stated so there ;3). So yeah, I'm back and I can only hope I still have readers that are STILL interested in reading this. I would be saddened if I lost a lot of you, but I guess it can't be helped if I did.

Chapter-wise. . .this took me a shit-load of time to get out. I would work on it, save it, and then always come back to it every few weeks or so. As stated, writer's-block is so annoying, and I always got stuck on how to go forward with this, but now I know what direction I'm going in (I had to go back and reread the first three chapters lol) and I'm hoping that it won't take me as long as it did to get the next few chapters out to you guys.

Oh yeah! Speaking of chapters, have you noticed the little question mark next to the Chapter(s) section? Well, originally, this would end in the next chapter I'll be installing in the next week or so, because I love you guys and I want to make up for the long absence. So, now, I think I'll be ending it in chapter 7 or 6 - but mostly, it depends on you guys if you want me to continue or not. I want to thank everyone for their reviews in the last chapter, and the criticism review; it really helped me a lot. On my top priority list, it's my goal to give the first three chapters a remake so I could edit them and the such (if I see fit).

To tie things up, I hope you enjoyed this chapter (especially the end ;3), and I look forward to your reviews. See you next chapter, readers! ILU!

-With love, CCB