Written for KyoTama day (11/9)!!! Boy on boy sex people!!! Woot!!! It's extremely late, but this had gotten longer than I anticipated.
Let's get some things straight. I did not create the concept of using the seme/uke's birthday to make the day devoted to their pairing. The wonderful Master of the Rebels of the Naruto fandom thought of that first to create NaruSasu and SasuNaru day. I just asked permission to use it to create KyoTama day, which is a combination of Kyoya's birth month and Tamaki's birthday, but the idea celebrate it in the Ouran fandom is my own, as the Master has kindly told me.
I just want to show that I wasn't kidding when I said that I write yaoi and I know that some are getting bored with my constant posting of too many KyoHaru fics.
Please enjoy, and if you don't like extremely graphic yaoi lemon but read anyway and flame me for it, shame on you.
On another note, I find it increasingly amusing to know that I cannot write decent het porn, but can do fine with gay porn. It's extremely comforting to know of it, though.
Beta by the lovely dark mirth who did it quickly and wonderfully for me. Much love. :D
Of Masks and Deceit
Ootori Kyoya fingered the rim of his glass, his smooth skin collecting the drops of moisture as it ran around the crystal. Dark eyes glanced casually around the darkening bar. He hadn't come here to be pissed, after all. This was just a nice little nightcap before bed. Of course, bed this time meant the king size one waiting for him in one of the hotel's suites. When was the last time he had ever lain in his own bed at home? Months ago, probably.
His father was a very successful businessman whose company stretched from pharmaceuticals to various medical supplies and hospitals. He was the third son, and as such, much was expected from him. It didn't matter to the father that his oldest became a department head in their city's most prestigious hospital at the tender age of twenty-five, or that his second son was an executive in their company. All that he saw was his youngest, seemingly struggling just to get out from under the shadow of his brothers.
It should piss him off, and for a while, it did. But he didn't let that show, and saw it all as a challenge instead. Of course, it meant that he wouldn't inherit much when the old man croaked, yet he would make sure that he had everything he could reach before then. Just to show him--show them all--that the third son could break from the frame and paint his own picture outside it.
He was in town for a few nights to look over the final touches of their latest branch. It would be opening in a few weeks, and as such, he was sent here to make sure that nothing was amiss when his father himself would come for the grand opening. It was a new factory dealing with advanced medical equipment, something that they had only dealt with before on a smaller scale. However, a rival company had declared itself bankrupt just a year earlier and Ootori Industries stepped in to take over, thus the new branch was born.
Kyoya snorted. If his brothers were so good, why weren't they here? True, it wasn't as if he had a wife like his oldest brother, or a partner like the second son, and therefore no one to really miss him when he was gone, but he knew that he deserved time for himself as well.
He looked at his hands. He had become too pale for his liking. He had a natural fair colouring, but if he didn't get some sun soon, he might end up looking like a vampire.
He brought the cool glass to his lips, wanting to drain it all before leaving, but a figure sat itself noisily on the plush leather upholstery of the bar stool a few feet away from him and he stopped.
Blond hair with minute flecks of brown, immaculately groomed, small spikes lying softly on a pale neck; a pinstriped Armani suit that could not hide the broad shoulders and lithe body the stranger had. Violet eyes--Kyoya had never seen such a strange and exotic colour on eyes before--were twinkling as he called to the bartender for a drink.
Not noticing that he was practically staring, Kyoya watched the man as he picked up the glass of scotch, graceful fingers swirling it around and making the ice clink against crystal, and bring it up to his nose. After a delighted sniff, pink, full lips pressed on a side to take the first sip.
Kyoya wondered how those wonderful rosy lips would feel around his cock, as an equally pink tongue would dart around his slit, taking in his precome before deep-throating all Kyoya had to offer. How it would feel if he carded his fingers around those soft-looking blond locks as he pushed and pulled that head, fucking the other man's mouth with abandon. What it would taste like, when he smashed his lips against the same mouth that had given him so much unbridled pleasure, tasting himself and getting all the more aroused for it.
He had long since known that he was more attracted to the same sex though had never admitted to anybody that he was gay. He had learned to curb his desires for the most part, and there was always a handy, seedy bar downtown in every city he had visited so far that was more than happy to keep their mouths shut for the proper amount. The times when he was forced to act as if he were interested in women made him internally vomit. The only thing that was in his head during those times was that it was all for his future--a means to an end.
He snapped himself out of his fantasy, glancing downwards and thanking god that he had chosen to wear a coat that night or he would be taking the trek up to his room with an obvious bulge in his trousers. He scowled as he returned to his rum and coke, trying to ignore the happy chatter of the blond man with the apathetic bartender.
Then it hit him. He knew this guy. It was Suoh, who had also been a classmate of his in business school; they hadn't seen each other for five years since they had graduated. Suoh's father supposedly owns one of the biggest and most luxurious chains of hotels in the world. So what was the blond idiot doing here? Right, he was staying at their hotel.
He was not quite friendly towards him while in Uni, though Suoh thought that they were friends. He would stick to Kyoya like a leech when he wasn't sticking to somebody else, declaring to the world that they were best friends. Kyoya tolerated it for the most part, deciding that it would be wise to keep someone like him as an acquaintance for future use.
But he had never noticed how truly gorgeous the other man was. Maybe he was blinded by his initial thought that Suoh was an idiot. Though now as Kyoya tried to sneak a glance at him from the corner of his eye, Suoh was very attractive. That would explain the hordes of fan girls that had followed both of them as they walked through campus--it was Kyoya's own self-deceit and egotism that had made him think that they were chanting his name alone.
He closed his thighs uncomfortably, rubbing them together in an effort to stave off some of the painful pressure building in his groin. If he kept thinking about Suoh, he might not make it to his room with clean trousers and a semi-intact dignity.
He finally drained his glass, getting up from his seat with a twinge from his now very hard cock, when he heard Suoh speak loudly.
"Ootori?" he asked, incredulous. Kyoya winced; he wanted to go back to his suite without his noticing.
Suoh stood up from his seat, taking his glass with him, and stood beside Kyoya who had his indifferent mask back on.
"Good god, it is you old friend!" boomed Suoh. To Kyoya's horror, Suoh put down his glass at the counter and leant forward for a one-armed hug. Kyoya stood rooted to the spot, praying to whoever might listen that Suoh wouldn't hug him too hard and be aware of something poking him in the stomach that was definitely not a hidden knife or gun.
Thankfully, Suoh drew back as quickly as he had embraced him to hold him at arm's length.
"I haven't seen or heard from you, you old bastard," said Suoh, but with affection, "How come you never called me back or anything? I must have left a million messages on your phone and inbox, asking you to come round for drinks or something."
Kyoya cleared his throat and gently removed the hands on his arms--they felt as if they were burning. "I was busy. I didn't have the time."
Those full lips formed an adorable pout and Kyoya had to gulp hard so he wouldn't jump on the man here and then. If he could only lean in forward, he was sure he could take that delightful bottom lip and nibble it with his teeth before licking his way to--
"Ootori! Ootori! Kyoya!" said Suoh, poking his friend at the shoulder, "What's wrong? You're zoning out on me."
Kyoya straightened his glasses on his nose. "Sorry, long day. I need to go back to my room. It was nice seeing you again."
He made to turn around and walk away from there as fast as he could without breaking into a run but a strong hand gripped his upper arm, forcing him to back into a hard chest and he nearly gasped.
"Oh no, you're not running away that easily," said Suoh, staring down at him with an infuriating grin. Kyoya jumped from him as if burned and gave him a dirty look.
"Come on," wheedled Suoh, waggling his eyebrows, "We haven't had contact in half a decade and you run just like that? Tell you what, come up with me to my penthouse suite and we can have a drink there and talk about old times. And if you grant me this, I'll clear your bills in this hotel," he added as an afterthought, recalling that Ootori was a tightwad and this would surely reel him in.
True enough, Kyoya was having an internal battle. The offer was tempting, to be sure. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to pay for the bills as it all would be charged to the company credit card, but why spend when it was being offered for free? It would be just a few drinks and nothing more. Just two friends catching up with each other.
Yet as Kyoya proceeded to look Suoh up and down unobtrusively, he knew from the minute he laid eyes on him tonight, it was a lost cause. Even if he didn't know this man, he was sure he would be the one wheedling him to come up to his room for a spot more of liquor and maybe to break in his hotel bed.
Kyoya sighed. He really needed a boyfriend.
"Fine," he said, giving up.
Suoh's eyes twinkled.
The penthouse suite was located at the topmost level of the building and nearly occupied the whole floor. Kyoya, who was used to luxury, was immediately bowled over by the sheer elegance almost as soon as he stepped through the door.
Heavy velvet in a rich gold and mauve colouring was used for curtains, while richly woven satin and silk made up the plush upholstery. Burgundy Persian carpets inlaid with alternating dark and pale designs were spread over black-veined marble floors. Nineteenth-century crystal chandeliers hung on the ceilings, casting the room with a golden glow. European paintings (was that a rare, genuine Goya on the mantelpiece?) adorned the cream coloured walls, and there was a marble bust of a woman sitting on an eighteenth-century hand-carved oak table in a corner. In another corner was a fairly large display case of various miniature crystal figurines, no doubt collected from all over the world. From where Kyoya stood by the elevator doors, he could see a black grand piano standing majestically near the floor-to-ceiling window around which velour curtains were parted, allowing a wondrous view of the city with its millions of twinkling lights amidst a horizon of concrete and bustling roads.
Suoh glanced around the room, smiling. "My father gave me this particular suite as a present when I graduated from Uni," he said conversationally, beckoning to Kyoya to follow him to the drawing room. He had Kyoya sit down on a very comfortable settee before approaching what appeared to be a bare wall and pressing a particular spot.
Kyoya heard a faint hissing sound and part of the wall slid to the side, revealing a mini bar loaded with drinks.
"What's your poison?" asked Suoh, grabbing a few bottles.
Kyoya shook himself from staring at Suoh's ass too long and calmly replied, "Martini. Very dry, please."
Suoh finished their drinks quickly and handed Kyoya his before taking his seat adjacent Kyoya on an armchair.
"When Dad was having this particular hotel built, he thought that it would be nice if I had a place of my own," explained Suoh, waving a hand about theroom, "I thought that the condo unit I had back in Japan was more than enough to start with, as I still didn't have a proper place in his company--at least I wasn't an executive yet but he told me that this was mine just a few months after we graduated. I was happy about it of course, but…" He glanced at Kyoya with an almost wistful expression--which was strange considering his buoyant personality. "I just don't think that this type of…extravagance is something I'm comfortable to live with everyday."
"Too opulent for your tastes?" smirked Kyoya, taking a sip of his drink.
"In a way, yes," answered Suoh, placing down his half-empty glass on a coaster on the antique French coffee table. He wrinkled his nose. "I don't mean to sound ungracious, but I feel so old just sitting here."
Kyoya almost smiled. "Try wearing a pair of breeches and maybe you'll find yourself at home," he quipped, making Suoh laugh.
"Where did you get that?" asked Kyoya, indicating the hand-painted silk tapestry that hung a few metres away from the Goya. The obviously very valuable item depicted two birds--one fair and one dark--coupling on a branch of delicate cherry blossoms in full bloom. It stood out like a sore thumb amidst the European furnishings of the room.
Suoh grinned more widely, if at all possible, as he turned to stare at it as well. "Now that one is my prized possession. I actually found it on an estate auction in Britain. A family was selling off one of their ancestor's possessions and this came up. I snapped it up naturally."
Kyoya scrutinized the painting carefully, getting up from his seat with drink in hand in order to look at it closely. The brush strokes were simple, slight, with an air of pure innocence around it. But there lay a sense of realism, as if Kyoya expected the birds to come to life in a second and fly out of the silk.
"I'd say Edo period," murmured Kyoya, half-reverent, half-musing, "The subject would make me think that it was a fuzokuga painting, but the materials used state that it is not." He bit his lip, leaning in further. "Silk that could be spun by the greatest weavers in Kyoto, and highly expensive ink…I'd say nobility did this--a female of the upper echelon trying to emulate art of the lower classes."
Suoh laughed from beside him and Kyoya nearly jumped. Had he been that absorbed in the painting that he had never noticed the man approach?
"Brilliant deduction, as expected from you, Ootori," said Suoh, clearly amused. "I had an antiquities expert certify it and he pretty much said the same thing."
Kyoya bristled slightly, mistaking the praise for derision but didn't show it. Instead, he inhaled the last of his martini and went back to the couch. To his surprise, though, Suoh took the space beside him, but was careful enough not to sit too close. Kyoya felt a lump form in his throat at the mere proximity of the other man.
"So, tell me, Ootori," said Suoh lightly, crossing his legs and smiling at him in his disarming way, "What brings you to the city?"
Kyoya gulped, willing his eyes away from the sparkling violet ones but finding that he could not. He tried instead to mask his growing discomfort by applying a slightly distant tone as he answered, "Work. The company's opening a new branch in a few weeks and I was sent here to make sure that everything was right on schedule."
Suoh smiled wider and it unnerved him even though there was no real cause for it. The man was really getting under his skin without even trying.
"You're still as focused as ever, I see," Suoh remarked lightly. "That's what I had always admired about you, Ootori. Why I was always so close to you, even if you took it upon yourself to be so cold and distant to everyone."
Kyoya frowned, immediately on the defensive. "That's not true. I did have some acquaintances in university, if you remember, and I didn't act like a total bastard to everyone." The liquor was loosening his tongue. He wasn't fully aware of what he was saying anymore.
Suoh just shot him a knowing grin. "Don't lie to me, Kyoya. I know you better than anyone else."
Kyoya shook silently in barely concealed fury. How dare this man insinuate that he was lying? Granted, it sounded completely hypocritical, yet….
"How dare you think that you know me more than I know myself?" The accusation was more biting than he intended and he mentally winced when Suoh just grinned even more, unfazed.
"Yes, you were perfectly friendly to everyone," supplicated Suoh, moving closer, "But can you honestly tell me that you considered even one as a friend? That you even tried to contact anyone for something outside of business?" At Kyoya's flabbergasted look, he half-smiled. He moved away, aware that he was nearly leaning onto him. A few more inches, and damn, he would have had something he had been craving for years.
Kyoya, for a few tense seconds, clearly forgot who he was and spat out in cold rage, "Shut the hell up. You don't know anything about me, so keep your stupid opinions to yourself."
Instead of looking offended at the cutting remark, Suoh grinned in smug satisfaction. "That's it, show me what you truly feel, Ootori Kyoya." He put his hand down on the cushions, leaning closer until they were almost nose to nose. Kyoya was too mad to even notice the sudden invasion of his private space until he could feel the other man's breath on his cheek.
Kyoya flushed, trying to move away but Suoh gripped his wrist tightly, pulling him to his body.
"What the hell are you doing?" Kyoya demanded, attempting to jerk himself free and failing--Suoh was surprisingly strong, "Let me go."
"No," replied Tamaki simply, enjoying the sight of the man wriggling in his grasp, "Not until you show me how you truly feel."
And without another word, Suoh crushed his lips against Kyoya's, drowning any further protests. At first, it was a slow, tentative kiss, merely gauging in ardent curiosity. Then, lips began to move, opening, nibbling at Kyoya's lips in a teasing manner, until a hot tongue darted out to seek entrance between clenched teeth.
Kyoya was too shocked to respond but one swipe of that moist tongue against his lips had him melting; he didn't even bother to deny himself anymore--that this was what he wanted as soon as his eyes laid on the blond man at the bar just over an hour ago. That it was better than what he had fantasised, and hell, the friction of their bodies against each other was pure heaven.
He opened his mouth slowly, his own tongue peeking out to taste the one that probed incessantly against his mouth. Realising what he was doing, though dimly, Kyoya vowed to take control of the situation and pushed back more forcefully, which Tamaki was more than happy to comply with.
Kyoya placed his hands on Suoh's chest to make him lie back on the couch. Suoh tilted his head up to deepen the kiss even further, not even bothering to fight their positions as he plundered his mouth over and over again. Tamaki's arms moved to encircle themselves on his shoulders, his hands grabbing fistfuls of dark hair as Kyoya ground his hips against his own, making their own erections apparent to both of them.
Tamaki gasped into the kiss as their hard-ons aligned, the wonderful friction sending pleasurable shocks up and down his spine. Kyoya moved his lips to his jaw, his cheek, resting for a brief moment on his earlobe before sucking a deep purple hickey beneath it. His lips continued their descent to the smooth column of his neck, biting and laving the skin he found.
Tamaki arched his neck so that Kyoya had more skin to worship with his kisses. Kyoya's finger hooked around his silk tie, loosening it and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his oxford shirt. Pearly teeth nipped at his collarbone and it drove him almost mad with need.
"Ootori…" he gasped as Kyoya pulled back only to remove his jacket and chuck it aside then loosened his tie and threw that away as well. Kyoya wordlessly pulled him up to divest him teasing the skin he uncovered with soft butterfly kisses.
"It's Kyoya," corrected Kyoya softly, surprising even himself. Tamaki's eyes softened and he tested the name on his lips, feeling giddy at being granted permission to call the other man by his given name, which was hushed as lips pressed against his own again.
Tamaki heard his belt being unbuckled along with the sound of his zipper trousers being pulled down. Kyoya momentarily let go of him to take off his own shirt but Tamaki stopped him, wanting to do it himself.
Kyoya smirked, letting his now lover do as he wished. Tamaki gave him the same treatment, gently placing loving kisses on his toned chest and pale neck as he pulled off the white shirt and flinging it to one side. He was almost surprised that neither of them popped any buttons in their haste to see the other one undressed.
Kyoya kicked off his shoes and made Tamaki do the same and they lay on the couch, with Kyoya hovering over Tamaki as they tried to catch their breaths for a moment before slamming their lips harshly against each other's again, teeth clacking awkwardly in their open lust.
Kyoya let his fingers trail down a hairless chest, then pinched and rubbed a dusky nipple, rolling the pebbled nub none too gently. Tamaki clearly enjoyed it as he arched up to receive more of the attention to his chest.
Kyoya lowered his head to catch a pert nipple in his mouth while his hand worked on the other. Tamaki was clawing at his back in sheer bliss, groaning at the ministrations. Not content, Kyoya trailed down lower, dipping his tongue on his lover's navel as his fingers trailed fleetingly along the waistband of Tamaki's silk boxers.
Kyoya looked up just in time to see Tamaki staring at him with unabashed desire, the molten pools of purple conveying longing for his touch. Lust hit him even more and he hastened his movements, his hand dipping into the boxers until he was holding Tamaki's rigid length in his hands, the sheer heat of the organ causing it to throb in his grasp.
Tamaki moaned loudly at the sensation of being stroked softly by the man he had wanted for so long. He had longed for Ootori since he had first seen the arctic man during freshmen orientation as he stood there like a dark angel. And instantly, Tamaki knew that he had to possess the man, until the same coal eyes that had stared apathetically into nothingness were reduced to smouldering and unrestrained passion.
And he was getting his wish. With some difficulty, as he was still slightly pinned to the couch by the other man, he reached up, and took off Kyoya's glasses. Kyoya raised an eyebrow at him but Tamaki just smiled, biting his lip to stifle a groan as Kyoya squeezed him in question.
"I want to see your eyes," panted Tamaki as Kyoya continued to move his fist up and down his length with deliberate slowness.
Kyoya suddenly let go of him and Tamaki groaned at the loss of feeling. He was so close, and he would have come, the silk upholstery be damned.
"Bedroom," Kyoya gasped, pulling them to their feet, and Tamaki wobbled a bit, as it seemed that all of his blood had collected in his groin.
Not wanting to waste another minute, Tamaki almost harshly pulled Kyoya to the master suite, opening the door and throwing him inside. As soon as he had pulled the door closed behind him, he found himself slammed into it when Kyoya dived in for another soul-scorching kiss.
Kyoya broke the kiss only to go down on his knees and pulled down Tamaki's trousers and boxers in one fluid movement. The cold air hit Tamaki's crotch and he nearly hissed in the sensation until a tongue lapped carefully at the precome gathering at the tip of his engorged cock, before trailing on the thick vein while his hands fondled his sacs.
His head thumped against the door loudly as he fought the urge to scream while Kyoya did wonderful things on his dick with his mouth. His hands grabbed Kyoya's hair again, wanting to move that head up and down until he was fucking his mouth but Kyoya sensed his intent and grabbed his hip harshly with his free hand to still his movements.
Smiling wickedly, Kyoya devoured his member whole, trying not to gag at the thick organ in his mouth as blond pubic hairs tickled at his nose. Tamaki was bigger than he had anticipated, and he was nearly hitting the back of his throat, but Kyoya needed to hear the blond moan, whimper, and beg for more of this. His tongue lapped up the shaft, twirling around it like he would with a with a popsicle-- a very large popsicle.
Tamaki involuntarily arched at the sensation of being swallowed whole--hell, it was the first time anybody had ever given him head and he wondered how he had lived so long without it. Thoughts ceased forming in his brain completely however when he opened his eyes to look down and saw his own dick appearing and disappearing around pale rosy lips that nearly became his undoing.
"I'm--I'm…" he gasped finally, trying to warn Ootori but Kyoya gripped the base of his cock tightly, impeding his oncoming orgasm and he whimpered in pain.
"No, not yet," Kyoya panted and stood up, his hand still gripping his cock. "Undress me."
Whimpering, Tamaki did as he was told, taking off the belt and pulling down his trousers. Kyoya wiggled out of his while helping Tamaki step off his.
Kyoya once again claimed Tamaki's lips, and the blond tasted something faintly bitter and he realised that it was his own essence. The thought aroused him even further if at all possible and he pushed Kyoya back towards the bed until they were tumbling over it in a tangle of limbs.
Tamaki moved immediately to the centre of the huge king sized bed, making himself comfortable on the dark red sheets, his head nestled comfortably on the cushions, beckoning Kyoya to come closer.
Kyoya could only stare at the man who was posing provocatively on the middle of the bed, looking for all the world like a blond Adonis, his licentious orbs twinkling in the promise of more to come for the both of them. He wasted no time hovering over him and connected their lips while his hand pumped Tamaki's member.
"Lube…condoms," Kyoya panted and Tamaki stared up at him in a daze before his words registered.
"Beside table. Topmost drawer."
Kyoya got up to get the necessary items and Tamaki shivered at the loss. Kyoya nearly rolled his eyes at the blond's far too trusting attitude – he had clearly not even attempted to hide his stash of lube and condoms.
Kyoya went back to him, squeezing the clear gel on his fingertips and rubbing his hands together to warm it up. His fingers teased the tight sacs of his lover before moving down and circling the puckered entrance.
Tamaki shivered as the cool gel hit his skin, shuddering even more as those fingers wandered over his entrance. He had never allowed anybody else to do this before and the thought that it was Kyoya who was making him feel this way made him convulse even further in anticipation.
"Relax," Kyoya muttered as he tried to insert the first finger through the tight ring of muscles. "This is going to hurt but it won't be as bad if you aren't so tense."
Tamaki wanted to snap back but a hand caught his blushing erection and he melted.
Kyoya pushed deep inside him, and nearly groaned at the sheer tightness. It was obvious from the way Tamaki was reacting that he would be his first and that brought a gush of warmth in his chest--one that he chose to ignore. So he vowed to prepare as much as he could, knowing that he would get off only if Tamaki got off.
But the idea of possessing Tamaki fully brought a twitch to his own cock and he hastened his movements, thrusting in and out of the tight passage a few times before letting a second finger join it.
Tamaki was shaking uncontrollably and tears were leaking from his eyes. Kyoya reached up and kissed away the tears gently but still didn't stop his fingers even as a third joined them. Kyoya's fingers hit a spot deep within him that made him see stars and they did it over and over again until his vision whitened and he collapsed to bed, coming violently.
Kyoya nearly came himself at the sight of that flushed body shuddering as it rode the waves of an intense orgasm.
"You're doing great," he choked out, even as his breaths came in pants. He needed to reassure the other man for some unknowable reason but one he refused to ponder on.
When he felt that Tamaki was ready for him, he flipped him over despite Tamaki's surprised shriek, and pulled at a hip until the entrance was completely revealed to him. He licked his suddenly dry lips, and rolled the condom down his own shaft.
Tamaki pressed his face against the comforter, bracing himself for the pain, his hands gripping the silk underneath him. This was what he wanted and it was sheer torture as he waited for Kyoya to enter him.
Kyoya placed the tip of his erection to the prepared entrance, holding his breath as he inched himself slowly to minimise the pain. He let his fingers trail on Tamaki's growing cock to distract him as he surged more and more.
Tamaki let out a wail at being penetrated and sobbed as he felt Kyoya pushing in to the hilt. He didn't feel pain as much as he felt the amazing sensation of being full. He squirmed a little to adjust himself to the girth, Kyoya gripping his hip more harshly when his rectal muscles clenched involuntarily at the organ buried in him.
"Move," he panted finally and Kyoya did. At first in slow, deep plunges until he knew that the slowness was driving him insane. He pushed back, wanting to convey what he wanted.
Kyoya, attuned to his needs, picked up the pace, timing his thrusts along with his strokes on cock.
Tamaki was pure heaven, Kyoya thought as they moved to a steady rhythm that nonetheless took his breath away. He moved to a different angle, wanting to go even deeper and find that sweet spot that was sure to drive him wild. Until they were viciously rocking against one another and nothing else mattered except the need to become one. Slick flesh slapped on sweaty skin as they moved furiously on the bed.
As Tamaki's growls increased in volume, Kyoya knew that he was doing it right. He glanced down and seeing his own dick plunging into those hot, dark passage made him shudder until he felt that he could hold back no longer, bursting as he thrusted with the last tremors of his release, holding back his scream by biting the strong shoulder underneath.
Beneath him, Tamaki swore loudly and came again, babbling incoherently as they slumped down heavily on the mattress, Kyoya breathing heavily against his neck.
When he had regained his breath, Kyoya shakily moved away, going to the en suite to dispose of the used condom and find something to clean them up. He found a face towel hanging neatly off a hook and wetted it under the hot water tap. He wiped off some of the come and sweat that stuck to his body and threw the towel in the laundry bin beneath the sink. He grabbed another towel, wetted that as well, and went back to the bedroom, where Tamaki still lay in the middle, and had clearly never moved since Kyouya had got up.
He helped him roll to his back and cleaned up the blond who was still trying to breathe. Kyoya nearly chuckled at that--was it that intense that Tamaki was still recovering from it?
He managed to coerce him to reposition beneath the sheets and for a while they lay side by side, though not touching, their rapidly cooling bodies covered in the heavy goose down comforter.
"I wanted…I wanted to see you as you were," explained Tamaki softly, breaking the amicable silence, "I wanted to break that mask you wore all the time. Wanted to see for myself what Ootori Kyoya was really like." He faced Kyoya, his eyes shining with warmth and affection.
He raised a hand to stroke the smooth cheek and nearly hesitated, but the look on Kyoya's eyes made him steel his will and his fingers brushed against the soft skin, growing bolder when Kyoya didn't attempt to stop him.
"I've wanted you for so long, and I had wished that you would want me in the same way," he confessed lightly, his thumb now caressing his lover's bottom lip.
Kyoya reached up to grasp the wandering hand in his, placing a delicate kiss on the cool palm. The action was strangely more intimate than what they had just done and nearly sent him off running to try and recover his lost sanity yet as he gazed into those purple orbs that had haunted him all these years, he decided that it was time that he let go of his own hypocrisy and give in to what he wanted--fuck, what he needed.
He wound a hand around Tamaki's neck to pull him close, their foreheads resting together. He laced his other hand around his and whispered into a rosy cheek softly, knowing that his words bore more than he would allow himself to speak fully.
"You have two weeks to break me, Tamaki," he breathed.
And when Tamaki jumped on him with an excited squeal, rubbing his face against his neck appreciatively in clear delight, Kyoya knew that for this time, it was better not to think at all.
Disclaimer: Kyoya had sex with Tamaki, not with me, didn't he?