Notes: Yes, another one.
I've written another one. This one's smutty, so I've rated it M. : I love updating. It's fun. I don't want to dangle you on severe cliffhangers, and since I have time right now, I'll do a MASS POST to get all the chapters I have out. :D
I'm gonna post both at the same time, I think. My ideas are SPINNING, so I've got to get them out on paper (screen?) asap. :D Thanks to you all for the reviews, again, and I hope this chapter does Tama/Kyou justice!
I'm totally melodramatic now. This chapter is so lame. There's so much fan service. They're shirtless most of the time. Oh well. It makes it sexy.
I can't decide who's the uke and who's the seme. I like it when Kyouya's the dominant one, because it fits his personality. However...Tamaki's caring side makes him a really good seme, too. I don't know. I'll probably just see where it goes and not label it.
Disclaimer: If I owned Ouran, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. This stuff would be fact!!
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Heat. Pulsing waves of heat flooded his body as he pleasured himself in the steaming water. He grunted, his body enjoying the strokes, the sensation of long fingers pulling, creating friction...
The shower drowned out his cry as he came, spilling himself into the tiled tub, fire flooding his body, pupils dilated.
"Tamaki!"
Kyouya slumped against the wall, the water pounding his thin back as he shivered in the remains of his orgasm. His hand curled into a fist, and he let his head fall forward, black hair soaked and falling over his face. With a muffled growl, he thrust his fist into the tile wall, causing a somewhat loud bam.
"Tamaki..." he said again. He let his best friend's name trail into silence as he brooded.
I'm so alone, he thought miserably. I would tell him, tell him how fucking alone I am all the time, ask for companionship...but it would ruin the dynamics I've helped to build.
"Kyouya?"
Kyouya froze, a hastily quashed gasp just barely escaping through his parted lips. He failed.
The door clicked open and he could hear the soft padding of bare feet on the floor.
"Tamaki..." he said weakly, and hated himself for it.
"Kyouya, what happened?" Tamaki reached the tub and knelt on the other side of the curtain, only able to see the top of his friend's head. "I heard a bang."
"I..." Kyouya nearly said it. He nearly uttered those three, forbidden words he had always told himself he would never say.
"I'm sorry if I made you remember things that made you angry."
It was obvious to Kyouya that Tamaki was a lot less of an oblivious idiot as he made himself out to be.
"I've always thought you were so...distant," Tamaki began, reaching up to shut the water off. "But I guess that was a stupid thing to think."
Kyouya laughed, voice choked by his own misery.
If only he knew what he does to me. Here I am, completely naked in front of him, and he doesn't even know how difficult it is to keep my cool.
He felt a towel drape itself around his shoulders.
"Come on, Okaa-san, get out."
He obeyed, powerless against Tamaki's command. He felt Tamaki's long fingers wrap the towel around his waist.
"Tamaki, let me change, okay?" Kyouya's voice held a slight note of irritation, but only to mask something nearly uncontrollable.
Tamaki nodded his assent and flashed a brilliant smile, obviously trying to cheer Kyouya up. A small near-grimace flickered across Kyouya's lips, and Tamaki left.
He dressed quickly, pulling on pajama bottoms. To his horror, he didn't have a shirt.
Oh, no...
As he emerged from the bathroom, he saw that Tamaki was on his bed, also in pajama bottoms.
"Why are you in my bed," Kyouya deadpanned.
"So I can help you."
"You don't have to help me."
It would be better if you didn't.
"But I waaant to," Tamaki smiled warmly, and Kyouya couldn't help but move to the bed and take a seat on the edge. Tamaki reached over and turned the light off.
"Tamaki..."
Tamaki didn't listen to his friend, but took him by the shoulders and pulled him down next to him. He removed Kyouya's glasses, placing them on the nightstand. With a long sigh, he wrapped his arms around Kyouya's warm midriff.
"Feel better, okay?" Tamaki said into Kyouya's ear. "I'm sorry."
Kyouya closed his eyes and didn't say anything. He only reveled in the feeling of warmth and kindness that emanated from his friend. Within minutes, he felt Tamaki's breathing deepen, then slow. He was asleep.
"Goodnight, Tamaki," he murmured into the darkness of the room.
Tamaki grunted softly and squeezed his friend tighter. Kyouya waited a few minutes, and then tentatively took one of Tamaki's long-boned hands from around his waist and placed a soft kiss in his palm.
"Arigato."
The next morning, the alarm went off at ten-thirty. Kyouya stirred, hating the sound of the beeps, and struggled with the very, very heavy blankets...
He opened his eyes with a shock, remembering the night before. His blonde princely friend lay next to him...well, more on top of him. Kyouya's arms were wrapped around Tamaki, Tamaki's head tucked beneath Kyouya's chin. His breath was warm on Kyouya's bare chest, and he shivered.
"Kyouyaaa," Tamaki said, yawning. Kyouya let go of his friend quickly. Tamaki sat up.
"Is it time to get up?"
"Yes," he said.
"Are...you okay today?"
"Yeah." Kyouya paused, awkward. "Arigato, Tamaki."
Tamaki merely smiled and went to get dressed. Kyouya followed suit, and before his sleep-addled brain knew it, they were on their way to the Cote d'Azure.
Tamaki could barely contain his excitement on the way to his mother's house. He bounced in his seat the whole way there. Kyouya tried to calm him down, but didn't succeed. But this failure wasn't one he got upset over. It was something to be happy about, actually.
At least I've succeeded in this much, he thought absently, but the rest of him brooded. He was still shredded over what happened the night before. He cringed.
They pulled up to a house forty-five minutes later, and Tamaki flung himself out of the car before it had even stopped moving.
"Tamaki, please be careful. I don't need a huge hospital bill to—" but Kyouya was cut off.
"Mère!" Tamaki ran to a beautiful blonde woman, sporting violet eyes and a pale, sharp complexion. Kyouya climbed out of the car behind his friend, lingering in the background.
The tears were immense. Tamaki's face was entirely soaked, his mothers matching in intensity. They cried together, Mother and Son, united after four long years of sad separation. Tamaki's mother planted a kiss on his forehead, murmuring sweet 'I love you's and smiling through blinding tears.
They have the same smile. His thoughts were as loving as Tamaki's probably were, but they didn't show so obviously. His glasses reflected the light and hid the warm glint his eyes held.
Tamaki's mother then looked up, noticing for the first time that there was someone else there.
"Kyouya-kun," she said happily. "I'm glad to be able to see you again."
Kyouya made a little bow, replying in kind.
"Kyouya," Tamaki said. "Don't turn on your host-self for my mother. That's just weird."
Tamaki's mother laughed, her violet eyes twinkling in an all too familiar way..
"I don't mind, Tama, I think Kyouya's a very handsome gentleman when he's a host."
And, just like Tamaki, she says things without thinking of the consequences.
"I thank you, Madame," he said, smiling.
"Let us go inside, Mother. I don't want you getting cold."
Kyouya watched as Tamaki led his mother inside the house. A moment later he popped his head out again and said to him, "you coming?"
The raven-haired teen nodded his assent and followed the blonde prince into the house. Kyouya glanced around approvingly as they walked into the wide, spacious living room of the health house. It was furnished in close-to the same style of the previous one Tamaki's mother had resided in, but the reception room was much more spacious, complete with roaring fireplace and dozens of dozens of pictures featuring Tamaki lining the mantle. Some of them even showed a focused Kyouya in the background.
"Please sit, Kyouya," Tamaki's mother said. "We are not total strangers."
"No, indeed," he said, and sat.
Their conversations turned to a more benign course, and eventually, Kyouya tuned out. He didn't normally distance himself from conversations like this, but for once he let himself relax. Tamaki's mother was just as infectious in personality, and Kyouya thought if he tried to keep up with both of them he'd probably wind up giving himself a migraine.
"Kyouya?"
Kyouya looked up. Tamaki and his mother were standing. He hastily stood himself.
"Tamaki," he said. "Now that I've seen you safely here, would you like me to return to Japan so you can spend some time with your mother?"
"No, Kyouyaaa! You should stay here, too!"
Ah. The fool is back.
But as Kyouya peered into his friend's eyes, he saw something there he hadn't seen before, something he couldn't name.
"If it is okay with you," he said, turning to Tamaki's mother.
"Any friend who's this sweet to Tamaki is welcome here," she said warmly. "Besides, you look really tired."
So the bluntness is genetic.
Kyouya internally jolted slightly at the word 'sweet.' Is that how it looked?
I guess so.
"Tamaki, if you go up the stairs, the third door on the right is a guestroom. Kyouya can stay there."
Tamaki grinned and took his friend's hand, tugging him out of the room. As they climbed the stairs, Kyouya voiced an opinion.
"Are you sure you don't want me to leave you with your mother?"
"Kyouya! You've come this far with me, I'd feel awful making you leave. Besides, I want you to stay!"
Kyouya smiled slightly. Tamaki dropped him off at the door to the guestroom and then left him, striding downstairs again. Kyouya opened the door and went inside, closing it quietly behind him.
It was only then that he realized that Tamaki had stopped calling him Okaa-san. He felt something wither inside him, and not in a good way. As his tired, logical mind put the pieces together, he came to the conclusion that what Tamaki had emanated from his violet gaze only moments before was something along the lines of completion. Wholeness.
That was one of the worst moments of Kyouya's teenagehood, coming into the realization that his fatal attraction to his best friend might be exactly that – fatal. Tamaki had a mother again, a father back in Japan, more friends than he could even count, and he could have his pick of any girl or guy to date. What more could he want?
Is this it?