It was early. Kyouya was sleeping. That should have been enough reason for anyone to stay out of the Shadow King's room, but of course, Tamaki barged in.

"Kyouya-kuuun!" he called. "The commoner shopping mall is having a sale today, and we simply must go!"

Kyouya's eyes peeked from under his covers and shot metaphorical daggers at the foolish blonde. "Tamakiii..." he seethed.

Tamaki acted oblivious. "I'll take that as a yes. I'll be waiting downstairs," he added with a hint of caution.

It was about one hour later when Kyouya at last emerged from his bedroom, dressed and more-or-less ready for the world. He found Tamaki on the sofa in the room prepared for guests to visit. The happy king was prepared with an ad for the sales being held at the mall. He grinned up at Kyouya.

"Mother is ready to go now?"

Kyouya groaned annoyedly at the nickname. "Yes, Tamaki..."

They left in Kyouya's limosine, Kyouya staring boredly and Tamaki babbling lightheartedly all the way.

"Why would we go to a sale when either one of us could practically buy the mall?" Kyouya muttured.

When they arrived, the boys emerged from the car and Tamaki led Kyouya into the building. And through it. And to a shop. Scantily-clad mannequins stood in the windows.

"Let's go!" Tamaki said, bubbly.

"Why are we here, Tamaki?"

Tamaki snatched up a few articles of skimpy clothing and pushed Kyouya toward the changing rooms. "Because, Kyouya," he said merrily, before he put on his princely-est, most charming expression, "this is where the sale is." The blonde locked them into a dressing room and pushed Kyouya against the back wall. "Stay," he purred. He stepped back and began to undress, slowly and teasingly, beginning with the lowest button on his shirt.

"Tamaki, I'm not putting up with your bullcrap," Kyouya said firmly, with a straight face.

"Oh, Mama wants to skip the foreplay?" Kyouya blushed at the thought that anybody else in the changing room area would be able to hear this entire conversation. Tamaki plucked the top button on his shirt, letting it fall open to the efficiently-conditioned air.

"Just shut up." Kyouya's mouth and body pressed against Tamaki's before he could think of a response to that. Tamaki's back was pushed up against the stall door, the lock digging into his back. The sound that came from between their lips was a whimper that morphed into a soft moan. Kyouya chuckled and pulled back.

Tamaki's eyes were lustful, but his face took an innocent charm. "Now, Kyouya, I'm changing..." he said casually. Kyouya stepped back and watched as Tamaki undid his trousers and let them drop. The underwear came off, as well. Tamaki turned, giving Kyouya a pleasant view of his backside, and gingerly plucked one of the lacey, rose-colored pieces from its hanger. He stepped into it, bending over slightly.

Suddenly, Kyouya's lips felt very dry, and he had to lick them to dampen them again.

Tamaki allowed the sheer fabric to settle a bit between his cheeks. Then he reached up to smooth his hair back, somewhat more out of his face. This, of course, allowed Kyouya to see Tamaki's back and shoulder muscles flex gracefully. Finally, the blonde turned to face Kyouya.

He could not form a witty reply. So, he began to disrobe himself instead. Of course.

He folded his clothes and placed them in the corner, out of harm's way. Once bare, and obviously eager, Kyouya pushed Tamaki in an arc around the dressing stall and shoved him down onto the bench in the corner. Kyouya had a fleeting thought that was something like, "These things are uncomfortably small." But the thought left his mind as he hovered above Tamaki, his knees on either side of his hips on the bench and his hands on either side of his shoulders against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating between their hips, still half-a-foot apart.

Kyouya splayed his fingers against Tamaki's hips to peel off the underwear he was trying on and obviously ruining for anybody else to wear. Tamaki raised his hips slightly to allow the scandalous thing to be removed. Kyouya leaned down, making a perfect opportunity to suckle at the juncture of Tamaki's neck and shoulder, eliciting a low moan as he pushed the scrap of fabric off, his palms sliding down across Tamaki's backside.

The blonde sat back down on the edge of the bench, leaning heavily against the wall. Kyouya spared no time in lifting and pushing apart Tamaki's knees. Kyouya formed a thought.

"Now, Tamaki," Kyouya growled, "are you glad that this was your idea?"

He didn't wait for Tamaki to respond.

Tamaki held his breath, trying consciously for a moment not to alert the entire shop, and probably the one through the wall, of their exploits, as Kyouya pressed into him. He was quick at first, pushing past the rings of muscles, then slower as he buried himself in Tamaki. Tamaki shut his eyes tightly. He expelled the air he had held in his lungs and panted hotly, his fingers curled tightly around the edge of the bench. The position was very awkward for Kyouya, who was halfway crouched and leaning his hands on the bench. But that didn't stop him. Tamaki didn't expect it to.

It was awkward for Tamaki, as well. His back hurt from its curve, his shoulders and head leaning against the wall, and his pelvis hurt from being repeatedly shoved against the bench at the odd angle required for penetration while facing one another. But it didn't last. He felt his throat tighten and his currently unused mind ascend to another plane and he shut his eyes more tightly than before as he shuddered, "Kyou-yaaa..."

"Nng." Kyouya clenched his teeth as he felt Tamaki's muscles do the same around his manhood, filling him. Tamaki's climax made an embarrassing mess of things. But they paid no mind for the moment, their muscles finally relaxing and their sweat cooling their bodies. They held one another, clinging to the warmth.

Kyouya sighed as he regained logic and sensibility, and he pulled out of Tamaki slowly, legs feeling weak. He fetched a handkerchief from the pocket of his shirt and cleaned up the mess Tamaki had made on his stomach and chest. Well, the mess that Kyouya had caused. Tamaki watched him blearily. They dressed quietly, and touched occasionally as they did so.

Tamaki peeked out of the stall. Two men in police uniforms were waiting outside of the dressing rooms.

"Oh, my goodness, Kyouya!" Tamaki stage-whispered. "We're ruined! I'll never gain Grandmother's favor this way! What if we get arrested? What will happen to the Club?"

Tamaki babbled on while Kyouya opened the stall door. "This was your idea, you idiot."

"Kyouya! What are you doing?"

Kyouya strolled casually toward the officers. Tamaki turned white as a sheet. Kyouya reached into his pocket and pulled out a few paper bills. "Ten-thousand yen says you'll tell no one." His glasses glinted. He grinned.

The police officers straightened up. "Oh-Ohtori-san!"

Tamaki's jaw dropped, allowing his spirit back inside, perhaps.

The officers looked nervous. "Don't worry about it, Ohtori-san!" one of them said, waving his hands in dismissal. "We owe you after you took care of that fellow selling bootlegged pottery a few months back. And, nobody's hurt!"

The other officer said, "Except..." He gestured to a few ladies sprawled across the floor near the changing stalls. They appeared to have fainted.

The shine faded from Kyouya's glasses as he turned. "They should be fine," he said, pocketing his money. "If any of them aren't, please send them to my family's hospital in this area. I'll gladly take care of their treatment, myself."

The policemen bowed as they walked away backward, uttering apologies. Tamaki wiped the drool from his chin.

Kyouya went back to the stall. He pushed past Tamaki, letting his eyes scan the floor. "Where is-?" he began.

Tamaki pushed down the edge of his jeans and pulled up the edge of the rose lace panties. He smiled.

Kyouya's hand dove into the back of Tamaki's pants, making him squeal as though scandalized. Kyouya simply pulled out the pricetag from the lengerie.

He left the pricetag and the necessary amount of money, plus tax, in cash on the counter.

"Tamaki," he said. Tamaki looked up at him curiously, with wide, blue eyes, as they left the store. "I probably shouldn't permit you to have any more ideas."