I am annoyed. Very, very annoyed. You know why? (stupid question, unless you're psychic) I DELETED THIS STORY! I meant to delete it on my other account, but then I deleted all record of it. Oh yes, this is completely from scratch. And my memory, of course.

-silent fume-

So, obviously, it's not going to be anything as good as before. Though I do think I could improve on the lemon this time. Even if you already know this, please review:) They make me happy and I am already massively procrastinating (hahaha, is it just me or doesn't that word sound really dodgy?) from my biology HW.

Disclaimer: In the anime, they are innocent. On FanFiction, the smut reigns free.

Ok, final and last warning: THIS IS VERY GRAPHIC. I will not give you the lecture about the age thing (as I am actually too young to be reading it, never mind writing it) but IF YOU HAVE LITTLE TO NO EXPERIENCE WITH THIS SORT OF THING DO NOT READ! Final warning ends. From now on it's your own foolishness.

And Anyway, What's So Naughty About Love?

Tamaki shot his… lover… a look from across the now-empty Music Room Three. Kyouya had one lip slightly clamped between a fine ivory-white tooth – his habit for when under a) extreme stress, b) extreme boredom, c) extreme concentration or d)… well, let's just say Tamaki knew the sight of d) very, very well.

Kyouya was well aware of his friend's gaze. With eyes as powerful as Tamaki's, it would be hard not to notice when they're boring into your back. Still, Kyouya kept his typing going, manicured nails clashing noisily with cheap – though the laptop was best that money could buy – plastic keys manufactured in some obscure country.

Floral display… ¥500,000.

Costumes… ¥480,000.

Kyouya yet again found himself wondering where the hell the money went. What's so expensive about it? He sighed and pushed his glasses a little further up his nose, peering at the figures again. I mean, it's just a rose here, a tulip there… how the hell did it clock up to ¥500,000?!

His internal rant was broken by the not-as-subtle-as-he-would-like movement of his lover from the other side of the room. His fingers never left the keyboard as his heart began to race almost as fast as his fingertips. Closer… closer… oh, so unbearably slowly, Tamaki came closer.

He leant over his shoulder, whispering softly across the blue expanse. As his breath ran over that point in his neck, Kyouya knew he was doomed. In a good way, of course. Of course. "What are you doing, mon ami?" Kyouya felt his throat – and his trousers – begin to tighten. Ignoring the aforementioned obstructions, his fingers kept scampering across.

"Chatting to Mori. Excel Spreadsheet." Tamaki sighed, sending a rush of hot-cold air across that point again. Tamaki's hand went slowly up to golden hair and then back down again, drifting lazily across Kyouya's shoulder.

"But that's booooring…" Tamaki whined in his ear, flicking out his tongue momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

The hand made its way downwards, a tweak here, a stroke there, before its index finger began to run circles around Kyouya's bellybutton through his shirt. Kyouya idly noticed it was his right hand. "Not while I'm working," he murmured, ignoring the now insisting voice in his head. And, not to mention, the fact his trousers felt like they had shrunk five sizes in the last ten seconds. Unfortunately, Kyouya had too much experience in this realm to know this wasn't the case.

The finger began to press harder. Kyouya gulped, and then it broke. He just had time to type three little letters to Mori, before it was irretrievable.


Tamaki's hand – his right, unfortunately for Kyouya – snapped up and slammed the laptop lid shut. He smirked. "Oops… looks like you're going to have to stop, doesn't it?"

And then it began.

Their lips met. Neither moved forwards or backwards, but they met in a clashing of teeth and gums and saliva, dripping across each others' faces in a way which would be repulsive save for the fact that they loved every moment of it. Kyouya roughly pulled Tamaki down onto his lap, tongue evading both sets of teeth in order to get that moan, that groan. His hand followed his lover's and found the nipples, the bellybuttons, and then back again to get rid of that stupid shirt, and then down again, further and further and closer and closer -

And then Tamaki pulled away.

"Not here," he muttered, and Kyouya raised one eyebrow, before pushing Tamaki to the floor and straightening up. He was slightly curious about that smirk on Tamaki's lips – after all, they had just stopped in the middle of a makeout session – before Tamaki pulled hold of his tie and began to drag Kyouya towards a door on the far right. "In here," he breathed.

And Kyouya only resisted to prolong that look in Tamaki's eyes.

Once inside, they knew they were lost. Clothes flew away, faster than light yet still too slowly for them to be satisfied. Somehow – though neither were sure how, putting it down to the years of experience – their mouths never parted, despite everything. They only parted when Kyouya paused and carefully plucked off his glasses and lay them on a side table. Tamaki almost smiled, but then their lips met again.

Despite the number of times the both of them had done this, they always found something new. This time… Tamaki discovered Kyouya liked to be licked behind his ear, too. Kyouya found that pushing the third knuckle on the little finger of Tamaki's right hand made him giggle hysterically.

And God, did they have fun discovering those.

Kyouya gasped from underneath Tamaki, their waists cruelly grinding together. Ohhh… that friction… Kyouya could swear he saw the sparks flying off. He slowly, ever so slowly licked his way up Tamaki's chest, drifting over every extrusion and intrusion, tracing and tasting every muscle. He latched onto the darkest part of Tamaki's chest with a conspicuous amount of teeth and tongue. Kyouya half-hated those small nubs, simply because they marred that perfect expanse; but then he was reminded of the noises Tamaki made.

Ohh, the way Tamaki was moaning… every little whimper shot more fire through his blood. The memory of Tamaki rubbing against him and moaning like a harlot was enough to get him off many a lonely night. His brain was spinning horribly and he felt a tingling on his palms.

Oh shit. He couldn't come now… not when there was so much to come…

Fuck. Too late.

Kyouya positively screamed.


Tamaki's eyes widened as his friend suddenly let out a shriek loud enough to wake Haruhi all those miles away. He hadn't really been watching his friend's face, too preoccupied by the amount of tongue he was using on his right nipple, but when he saw those eyes now his pupils were so dilated his eyes were totally, completely black – blacker than they ever were normally.

Kyouya's back bowed against his body, creating a semi-K against his chest, as he equalled the amount of noise pouring out of his lips with the amount of semen pouring out of his lower regions.

Tamaki's brain paused for a moment. That cry… those eyes… that come… that had all been for him. All for him. That thought alone was enough to get him off too – but no, one of them needed to stay sane. He was a little pissed off it was him, though.

Kyouya collapsed stickily against him, his eyelids fluttering frantically and his chest gulping desperately. At times like this, Tamaki knew that all he could do was hold him. This was up to Kyouya; it was his body. Tamaki would probably only make it worse.

After a few minutes, his breathing returned slightly normal, and he peered up with foggy eyes. And that smirk was back again. Tamaki shook his head slightly. To this day, he never understood Kyouya's sex drive. The man was fucking insatiable.

He slowly traced down Tamaki's body, eyes never leaving the wide, golden ones that couldn't tear away. Kyouya's tongue poked out, slowly, slightly, just a small pink tip, but enough to get Tamaki's brain whirling and his chest fluttering.

And then it brushed across the top, and he was lost. He gargled, choking and spluttering, as Kyouya managed to fit more of himself into that innocent looking 'o' than he would have ever imagined possible. He couldn't think… he couldn't breathe… every part of him wanted to move. He felt like he was being ripped apart. He wanted to move, fingers clawing desperately, back arching as he snapped upwards, unable to avoid it despite how much he tried.

Then the heat was gone. Kyouya was glaring at him, fingers clutching cruelly against his thin wrist. Tamaki hazily followed the direction of his own arm until he found its proximity to his glasses, and gulped slightly. Kyouya was not happy.

"Be careful…" he murmured mockingly. "Don't want to get into trouble, do you?" Despite everything, his eyes widened cutely and his head flew from side to hide. Kyouya resisted the urge to glomp that cute little man, before he remembered what was still hanging in very close proximity to his mouth.

"Tamaki…" he breathed questioningly, and his eyes wandered towards Kyouya. "You know what's great about us both being men?" Tamaki felt his throat tighten, partly out of fear at what Kyouya was going to do, and partly out of outrage. Kyouya knew he hated being reminded of that, no matter how ludicrous it was. Kyouya trailed up his body again. "We can change who's 'Mommy'…" he breathed…

And stuck a finger inside Tamaki,

Despite the fact it did feel a little good, Tamaki screamed in outrage. Oh, it hurt. Fuck, did it hurt! He thought back to Kyouya's first time on bottom… he'd never complained about this much pain! Masochistic little bastard! Those black eyes were on him again, and that goddamn finger was writhing and coiling inside him.

Come to think of it, something in his stomach was too…

Oh dear God. He was enjoying this! There was pain, but his stupid body was enjoying it. Yes, enjoying it. He had severely hoped he wasn't that sort of person, but it was definitely confirmed when the spasm of pain from Kyouya's second finger shot straight to between his legs. The fingers were moving, always moving, stretching and twisting and huhhhnnnnnnn…

What the fuck had that been? Tamaki tried to think back. Come to think of it, it had almost been like Kyouya had been searching for something…

"OH, Tamaki! HIT THERE AGAIN! Oh, my GOD…"

Ah. That was it.


Oh dear God. Whatever that little screwy place was, it felt fucking awesome, that was for sure. What sick part of human anatomy had meant… hnnnnn… that men had something like that? What was ever going to lead to something being - nnnnnnnn… stuck up their arse that far? Stupid evolution.


On second thoughts, fantastic evolution.

Kyouya's breath was rasping across the side of his mouth. Tamaki idly remembered how hard it was to resist at this point, before… oh no. Not that. Ohhhhh… hmm, maybe that would be quite good, actually. Kyouya searched his eyes momentarily for any sign of reluctance, and seeing there was none to find he followed his early theory and just shoved half of himself inside.

Well, he tried to. He was shaking so bad with a little bit of fear and lust he missed, and there was a moment of pain and absolutely nothing.


Oh, damn. Kyouya cursed himself, but he was shaking even more now. Tamaki stroked his cheek softly, making shushing noises in the back of his throat. Relax, he muttered to himself, joining Tamaki's urges. Relax. This is easy. You can do it.

He tried again, Tamaki's hand guiding him gently, before it dropped away and he hissed in pain.

Kyouya stopped. He remembered what this was like… but he was used to it now. Surely… surely one more centimetre wouldn't hurt, and Tamaki was so incredibly tight

He moved forward, and Tamaki cried out, whimpering. His nails were leaving crescent moon shapes on his shoulders, and his eyes hadn't opened.

Fear overwhelmed him. Had he done something wrong?


Tamaki cried out as Kyouya tried to move. He knew Kyouya was probably resisting as much as he could, but there was something shoved up his ass! It might be in the most loving and caring action his lover could show him, but it was still up his ass. And it still hurt.

He shifted his hips slightly, but a small hiss from Kyouya told him that he would definitely have to do this sans mouvement. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. Just breathe. It's all in your head… remember? Kyouya was trying to teach you something about it… neural passegeways, or something. Tamaki shook his head slightly. Whatever. Just keep breathing. You can do this.

He nodded slightly to Kyouya, who began to move. Instantly Tamaki realised two things; firstly, he must have got used to it, because he could actually feel his muscles being forced apart. Secondly, this was definitely not just in his head.

Kyouya stopped moving. Tamaki realised he must be fully inside of him, and probed gently with his brain. Wow… he'd never thought something could go that far up his ass. Kyouya was gulping in massive bouts of air beside him, trying to disobey every nerve in his body and stay still.

"Do what you feel," Tamaki whispered hoarsely, inwardly bracing himself against the pain he expected. Sure enough, Kyouya couldn't resist both the tightness and Tamaki's willingness, and gently pulled out. Tamaki winced slightly as his muscles were stretched again, and whimpered when he moved back in.

Damn, where had that pleasure gone? His brain flickered memories at him of the wonderful sensations that spot had provided for him. Still… the sensation of Kyouya moving inside him wasn't that bad. There was something undeniably wonderful about the thickness sliding in and then out… he was still hard. He began to wonder whether –

And then Kyouya found it again. Tamaki screamed and snapped his hips up, stabbing Kyouya not-too-kindly in the stomach. Kyouya let out a grunt as Tamaki tightened even more on him, the blonde boy's mouth howling a mixture of curses and dirty expletives, while all the while begging Kyouya to do it again. Kyouya shifted slightly and pushed again, hitting it straight on.

Their dance continued. Forwards and backwards joined into one long slick sweetness as nothing seemed to make sense any more. Kyouya pushed and paused, staring at Tamaki's face.

"Kyu… I'm n-nearly…" his face seemed perfectly at peace, but Kyouya could still feel something prodding into his stomach.

Kyouya nodded gently. "Juh… just wait a litt-uh… little longer," he gasped. The moment of clarity evaporated as Tamaki began to move on his own, and it was more than Kyouya could manage; it was so sweet, soft, loving and empowering that he found the small pink lips imbetween the chaos and moaned softly into them.

Their quiet moans escalated with the length as they finally came onto and into each other, swallowing each others' names in soft, whispering pants.

"I love you." He said it so quietly he almost thought he'd dreamed it, but when Kyouya found Tamaki's eyes he knew this was all too good to be a dream. The Shadow King only had nightmares.

"Baka…" he whispered against Tamaki's lips, and then sighed softly. "I love you too." Tamaki smiled slightly, before his eyes lulled closed and his breathing evened out again.

With a final sigh and a nonchalant grin Kyouya peeled himself stickily off his lover. Glancing around he found a pile of towels, from when the Host Club occasionally visited the school's Olympic-sized swimming pool, and gently cleaned his lover and himself as best as he could. It wouldn't fully go off until they both had a shower later, he realised, and then pondered whether they could have those showers together.

Still smirking he pulled on his slightly tattered uniform. Finally, he fished his glasses from the amalgam of Tamaki's clothes – they had ended up on the floor after all – and strutted back into the adjoining Music Room. Snapping open his laptop he clicked on the chat window where Mori was patiently waiting.

Back, he typed, scanning the figures on his spreadsheet, and adding in ¥40,000 for the cleaning the couch next door would require. He cursed Tamaki for picking the velvet couch, before smiling slightly as the conversation window flashed orange.

Hop u wernt up 2 anytin 2 nauti.

He read the text with a smile, pushing his glasses further up his nose and scowling at the screen.

Oh, shut up. Just because you're not getting any.

There was a pause. A blurry-eyed Tamaki stumbled from the room beside him, limping ever so slightly, and collapsed forlornly into a chair beside him. A thought hit him, and he smiled again.

And anyway, what's so naughty about love?


Wow… that was better and smuttier than the last version. Longer, too.


Scares the bejeezus out of me though. Spent most of the time writing it terrified my parents would find it… -sighs-

Anyways. Next up is either Hitachiincest, Uchihacest or AayaGure. Haven't decided… hmmm… but you know.