Title: King and Shadow King
Rating: Teen (Lemon later on. I'll change the ratings then.)
Warnings: If you don't like Yaoi, then you're in the wrooong place, my friend. XD
Series: Ouran High School Host Club (Anime, not Manga. Leaves ends more open for opportunity. )
P.O.V: Kyouya
Summary: Angry at Tamaki's indolence in leaving the Host Club, Kyouya confronts him in the Third Music Room after the festival. What goes on from there…well, it shall unfold in due course.
Parings: Tama/Kyou
Author's Note: This chapter was really fun to write. - I enjoyed it. Kyouya's personality was really, really fun this time around…but I'm not saying anymore. XD Read on!!
Disclaimer: I'm too busy staring intently at the FUNimation Ouran page to even think about owning the manga at this time. XD
Nearly an hour later, the taxi Kyouya Ootori and Tamaki Suoh were riding in pulled into the drop-off lane of a (five star) hotel. The hotel was made entirely of marble, golden fixtures marking the corners. French-paned windows appeared every four feet, nearly marring the smooth marble with indentations.
Kyouya quickly stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He didn't even pay attention to the hotel's finery; his blonde friend wasn't too far behind. They quickly entered the hotel, Kyouya brusquely asking a porter – in crisp French – to get their luggage. He then went started walking over to the reception desk. Tamaki jogged up beside him, keeping pace with Kyouya's long, smooth stride. Their feet made sharp taps – which echoed through the lobby - as they walked smoothly across the marble-tiled floor. Kyouya's eyes flicked around, finally taking in his surroundings. Plush forest-green couches were strategically positioned, large bouquets of calalillies and irises scattered the multiple mosaic tables. He grunted his approval.
"Kyouya," Tamaki said, his eyes traveling around the ceiling, which was painted with cherubs, "why are we at a hotel?"
"You don't want to get caught by your family, right?" Kyouya asked, startled by Tamaki's sudden speech.
"No but what…oh."
And now he gets is, Kyouya thought sarcastically.
"That makes sense," Tamaki said.
"I should hope so."
They'd reached the desk. Tamaki took over, his French flowing over the blonde woman behind the counter, sweetly asking for a reservation for Ootori. She blushed furiously at his flirtatious eyes, his charming smile…
Kyouya shook himself.
What in the hell does he think he's doing, he thought savagely. Why does he have to 'host' every woman he comes into contact with?
Kyouya's anger burned furiously, but the woman's voice brought him back to reality.
"I'm sorry, we don't have a reservation for Ootori or Suoh," she said.
She's nearly purring.
"Tamaki," Kyouya said in Japanese. "Stop flirting and let me take care of it."
His friend smirked as Kyouya moved to the desk himself, pushing Tamaki aside.
"The reservation is under 'Nekozawa,'" he said to the woman.
She looked at him haughtily, pursed her lips, and then reluctantly checked her computer. Her reaction to the Ootori boy wasn't nearly what it was for the Suoh. Kyouya's anger rose ten percent.
How the stupid fool gets away with every thing he does…
"Nekozawa?" Tamaki's voice rang out.
"Yes," Kyouya replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I had to use someone else's name, just in case my credit cards were checked. Nekozawa agreed to help us out. Beside," he turned to Tamaki, malice in his eyes, "you look enough like him to use his ID."
Tamaki grimaced, remembering all the memories behind what had been dubbed 'the brother-sister-unification-incident.'
The woman handed them their cardkeys and gave Tamaki a little wave – accompanied with a giggle. Kyouya walked away, and heard Tamaki's voice ask, "do you happen to have a piano here in this establishment?"
The reply was a yes, there was a piano in the dining hall, but only staff could use it. Tamaki gave a low bow before leaving the temporary 'princess.'
Of course he wants to know if they have a piano, Kyouya mused. That's so like him.
His heart fluttered, and he berated himself for it.
The two boys strolled into the elevator, Tamaki casually hitting the button. The doors closed with a soft swish, and the elevator began to move.
Keeping his face collected, Ootori mask firmly in place, Kyouya began to talk.
"Tomorrow we'll start looking for your mother at the nearest directories near the Suoh estate that's in this particular city," he began. "Then we'll be able to – one by one – narrow down our list of places to check."
Tamaki agreed, and the doors slid open. Kyouya didn't even look to see if Tamaki was following him; he walked out of the elevator and checked his cardkey.
"Room 280," he muttered, scanning the doors to his left.
Around the next corner, he found it. Slipping the cardkey into the slot, he pushed the door open, holding it for Tamaki, who moved into the room after him.
The door shut, and Kyouya saw that their bags were already there. It was not like he really cared, however. As he unzipped his bag, pulling out clothes for after his shower, His heart was in his mouth, pounding, shortening his breath. His face was flushed.
"Kyouya," Tamaki said. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Kyouya broke back into reality, silently berating at himself – again – for not paying attention to his surroundings. To his surprise – and horror – Tamaki's face was inches from his, staring intently into his own.
Damn the fool and his boundary issues…
He never thought he'd be beyond his own control. He leaned forward, inexorably; nearly…he couldn't even think it…nearly kissing his friend.
Control fell into place again as he struggled mentally. He was less than an inch from Tamaki's full lips when he pulled away.
"Yes, Tamaki, I'm fine," he managed to say in a cool voice, and walked into the bathroom.
The door closed with a snap, and Kyouya let his clothes fall to the flood in a heap, not even caring if they wrinkled.
What have I done?
His slowly raised one hand to his eyes to block out the light; fighting the oncoming stress-migraine. Kyouya never lost his self control. Turning to the mirror, he stared intently into his own face, as if trying to discern what had possessed him to nearly kiss his best friend.
The answer came readily enough, and he struggled with the concept.
I'm in love with him, I know, but…maybe I can't hold back anymore.
Shivering in beneath the chilly bathroom fan, Kyouya wrapped his thin arms around his thinner torso, and looked at the door.
Maybe I'm going to have to relax, a bit.