A drop of water after a drought! I had major writer's block, and this was inspired by a AMV on youtube. So Cheers! Enjoy ;)
Piano terms: .
"Suou-sama, Ootori-sama is here to see you."
Tamaki glanced up reluctantly from his book to regard the French maid, and then at the clock behind her. It was already the eleventh hour on a still summer evening, yet Kyouya was known to act on his will and no other, and pigs would fly if he ever made an agreement without condition.
The book snapped shut with a dull 'thump', and the blond removed his reading glasses and instructed the maid to let his visitor in as her last duty for the night. She bobbed her brunette head politely and turned to do so. As he was left alone, Tamaki stood to stretch his lanky frame, stiff from reading so long. He blew a lock of golden silk out of his left eye, gazing out into the shadowy landscape outside his bay window.
The raven shut the door behind him with a click, and the blond tilted his head up in acknowledgement. The silence was heavy as neither moved toward the other. I guess he knows.
"I heard you're heading for France."
Kyouya leaned against the door, cushioning his back with his interlocked hands. His glasses caught and reflected the moonlight, so even if Tamaki were to turn back to look at him, as much as he wanted to, he would not know what lay within. The President sighed, resting his hands on the window ledge.
Heat blossomed across his chest. Kyouya never knew a sense of loss, only a missed opportunity that would soon be replaced by better options. However, in this case, there was no other option.
Tamaki turned around as he felt the vibrations of Kyouya's footfalls on the carpeted floor. The silver glow barely registered the raven's pale pallor (or was it a trick of the light?) as he moved closer until the blond could smell the trademark scent of English tea on his lips. He thought the other would do it right there and then, but then the other only spoke.
"Play with me."
Of course, Tamaki knew he never meant it in that sense, but he couldn't hide the sinking feeling of disappointment as he nodded his consent. Soon, he had his vice-president between his legs, fitting comfortably together like two pieces of a puzzle. "The same way?" The half-French asked; the Japanese only nodded.
Their hands moved in unison across the piano keys, starting the Andante adagio. Kyouya was encompassed by Tamaki's long arms as he sat spooned by the other. He played his bass clef and the blond's treble, and the blond doing the reverse. It sounds confusing, yes, but even more mind-boggling if witnessed by sight.
The music tugged at his most precious memories. It was the first time Tamaki held his hand and kissed him in public (or as public as his street corner could be.). It was also Kyouya's second time witnessing a single person playing a duet piece as the President serenaded him with his rendition. He had made a rather silly suggestion of trying a different way to play the duet, and they had been practising like this ever since.
A piacere, the thought surfaced in Tamaki's mind like gas would in coke. At this proximity, he could feel every angled inch of the other against his own, see every bit of his pale milky skin, smell every scent imaginable that his vice-president produced, hear every sound that he emitted, and oh boy did he want to taste every part of him. All he had to do was to pull his hands from the white keys and put them in the other's black ones… or, maybe not.
Kyouya all but yelped as he felt something cool brush against his already heated skin; sitting spooned against the president did that to him. When that something started to nibble, he realized that the blond was up to his tricks again, and following that thought… "Tamaki… if you keep doing tha- ah!" he gasped as he felt teeth sink into the sensitive skin of his neck, "I can't concentra-ngh.."
Yet, the blond evilly continued his ministrations. Now that the piece only required one piano to play, he let Kyouya do the work. "Burlando." He purred into his partner's ear before running his tongue along the edge of its shell, making the pianist shiver uncontrollably. Tamaki couldn't help but chuckle; he always thought that his reactions were adorable.
Letting his hands roam freely now, they served to recover the memory of every inch of his skin. Each curve and dip, each rise and fall, long fingers searched and found every one of them. Amidst the raven's protests, Tamaki's head descended to kiss his Adam's apple gently, then trail up his jawline before seizing the other's lips in a deep kiss. Of course, the music faltered as the pianist couldn't see where his hands were going, but the only melody that Tamaki heard was Kyouya's soft whimpers for more.
With the duet forgotten, the blond shut the hardwood cover over the zebra keys so that he could bend his vice-president over. For someone as child-like as Tamaki, it would surprise even Kyouya when he tore his checkered shirt from the seams. (Yet, he took extra care when he pulled his own off.) Cerulean eyes admired milky, alabaster skin that shimmered mesmerizingly in the moonlight, its gaze seemingly marking which spot would bruise, which area would blush in time to come. Unconsciously Tamaki wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before descending to feast on the expanse of exposed skin.
Kyouya lost his own game; with every feather of a kiss, every sample of his body, Tamaki manipulated the raven into seventh heaven, or eternal hell. His fingers could only graze the polished surface of the grand piano as he struggled to hang on to reality, against the pull of the vortex that was Suou Tamaki. He could hardly hear his own muffled cries as nimble fingers and wet muscle found all his sweet spots; rubbing, caressing, teasing, pulling, stroking, massaging limbs that made his blood sing right down south, to the place where he most needed it.
"Tamaki…" For a moment Kyouya reached backwards to press his lips heatedly to Tamaki's, savouring the exotic flavours of East meets West. The posture made him vulnerable, and the King took advantage to dip his questing hands beyond the waistband of the raven's pants. Kyouya visibly jerked and moaned into the kiss, his legs clenching together instinctively. Tamaki's mind wandered to another place that would cling to him like that.
Finding it slightly difficult to support Kyouya, who was slumped and boneless against him, and reach all those places at the same time, the blond decided to shift to the chaise lounge. Clothes marked their path as they stumbled towards said furniture, chasing each other's lips and exploring each other's bodies greedily until they fell onto the velvet seat; as usual Tamaki's body sandwiched the raven's body between his and the padding, emerging champion in their oral battle for dominance.
Kyouya's breath misted in the cool night air as Tamaki pulled away, his lips burying into the crook of the Japanese's neck to mark him as his own. Momentarily the lithe body arched into the lean one, and fingers curled against rosy European skin. Tamaki's surging movements as he traced a path of needy open-mouthed kisses back and forth caused their hips to rub together, and an ache for intimacy started to build in Kyouya's belly. However, he could only watch the golden blob of hair drift lower and lower, teasing him with that talented mouth of his until he thought he could take it no longer.
Imagine Tamaki's surprise when Kyouya, instead of lying down and writhing under his ministrations like many a time, pushed himself up and collided with his lips again. The force of which he came up made the blond topple backwards, so now Kyouya straddled him by the hips. Of course, he wasn't about to complain about the new position and Kyouya's initiative; it kept things interesting; rather Tamaki leaned back against the single arm of the chaise lounge and watched as Kyouya ran a finger silently across his throbbing lips.
The raven swallowed the lump in his throat as he prepared himself to do something for the first time. Blushing and shaking with anticipation, he spat in his hand and wrapped it around Tamaki's pulsating erection, stroking it firmly from base to tip the way the blond liked it, and even sneaked a couple of playful sampling licks, all the while losing himself in those ocean blue eyes darkened with desire. Tamaki couldn't help but raise the temperature a few notches under the dark, intense gaze of his lover.
Kyouya rose on his knees, and treated his King with an erotic sight; one hand braced himself using the back of the chaise lounge, while the other held the blond's shaft in position. The wet bulbous tip teased his puckered entrance as he hesitated, biting his lip, and pushed down. Stifling his moans as his body accepted each hard inch slowly, his nails left perfect crescents on the velvet material. Tamaki couldn't help but grasp Kyouya's hips as raw lust engulfed his cock, and fought not to pull Kyouya down in one long tug. He would never hurt his lover.
"Kyouya… my Queen." The blond leaned up and claimed those parted lips with his own; almost as if he was rewarding the raven for the show. He felt the tremors crawling under his skin as the other remained seated on him, and Tamaki couldn't help but wrap his arms around his Snow Queen and hold him, to reassure him that he wouldn't do anything until he was ready. It was only when Kyouya panted into his ear that he started a gentle pace; with no preparation and minimal lube he was afraid of ripping his lover a larger hole. He thanked whoever bought the couch for getting one with such elasticity.
Kyouya gripped his shoulders as the blond made love to him, but when a particular thrust drove into a particular spot within, he couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy. "Tama… ah! Right there!" The raven clung on to said person's frame as he sat up to get a better angle, wrapping his legs around his waist. Tamaki gained access to those twin globes and cupped them with his hands, giving him greater control of the speed of their love-making. The blond teased his lover, varying short bursts of jabs and long, languid pulls, watching the raven screw his eyes tight with pleasure or hang his mouth open as expressions of pleasure spilled forth.
The moon bore witness to the bonding act of two lovers, star-crossed or forbidden, none of them cared. All they knew at that moment was the touch of one's lips, the feel of the other's hands, the taste of one's skin, the scent of the other, the perfect fit of their bodies, and the satisfying unity as they climbed to the peak in each other's arms and fell, deeper and deeper, with cries that only the both of them heard, into the spell that brought both of them together.
If only the spell could keep them together.