"All those girls are trying to charm my darling daughter with all those gifts! Don't they know she's a sweet little girl—NOT the overly feminine man they believe her to be?" Tamaki's incessant whining was all Kyoya could concentrate on that afternoon. He had been trying so hard to finish his English paper, but of course Tamaki had chosen that day to visit him at his estate and talk about his Haruhi-related worries.
"Well, if you weren't so concerned about keeping her in the Host Club, then the girls wouldn't be pursuing her," Kyoya responded in a condescending tone, angrily pressing the 'delete' key on his laptop after noticing his last few sentences had reflected his fury with Tamaki's obsession over Haruhi.
"But Kyoooooyaaaaa! If Haruhi weren't in the Host Club, I'd never get to see herrrrr," Tamaki moaned, dragging out the length of his words for emphasis.
Kyoya sighed. "Tamaki, I really need to finish this essay. If you're so concerned about this, why don't you go talk to Haruhi about it." Please don't go talk to Haruhi about it … Kyoya silently begged. Even though Tamaki could be more annoying than a swarm of bloodthirsty mosquitoes, Kyoya really liked having the lovable idiot around. He loved talking to him and listening to him and just simply being near him. The cool, controlled brain behind the Host Club hated to admit it, but he had gone and fallen in love with his blonde companion.
Kyoya was dragged out of this train of thought when Tamaki responded to his suggestion with, "But Kyoya! Haruhi loves getting gifts from her admirers! She even got some fancy tuna from one of them the other day!"
"Haruhi's a big girl, you know. She can most definitely take care of herself."
"Kyoya! I don't think you even care that our daughter is slowly losing her innocence."
"...Our daughter?" Kyoya raised his eyebrows.
"Yes. You're the mommy. I'm the daddy. Everyone else in the club are our children. Now help me protect our daughter!"
Kyoya's face flushed red as a cherry at the thought of having children with Tamaki. As his brain got stuck on that thought, Tamaki began poking him, worried about his health.
"Kyoya? KYOYA! Are you sick or something? Your face looks kinda hot."
Kyoya's brain stuttered, then came back to life. He shook his head, then gave a small grin.
"I'm fine, Tamaki. Just tired. You should probably get going," Kyoya said abruptly.
"Oh. Ok then. I'll just let myself out, I suppose." Tamaki paused at the door out of Kyoya's bedroom, looking back at his spectacled friend with longing. Tamaki wished he could make Kyoya understand that all the connotations behind calling themselves Mommy and Daddy were what Tamaki wished were the truth. Kyoya didn't look at Tamaki, instead choosing to stare at his computer screen, tapping the keys with unnecessary force.
As soon as he heard the door close, Kyoya let out a loud breath, deciding to momentarily give up on his paper, his thoughts being too full of Tamaki for proper academic writing. He instead pulled out his black notebook; the notebook he always wrote in in a strangely threatening manner. If only the Host Club knew what he was writing in it … they wouldn't be anywhere near as afraid of it. In fact, they'd probably laugh him out of the room.
Rather than doing what everyone expected of him by writing debts needing to be paid, Kyoya always wrote of his feelings for Tamaki. It was why he was constantly writing, and made sure to never let the notebook out of his sight. Tamaki was sure to never speak to Kyoya again if he knew of his dark-haired friend's feelings.
Noting all of his most recent fears about Tamaki's possible romantic feelings for Haruhi, Kyoya was brought, once again, to tears by the thought of Tamaki choosing someone other than Kyoya himself to love. Tamaki was seemingly the only one able to bring out Kyoya's strongest feelings, whether they be crippling sadness, wonderful joy, boiling fury, terrible hatred, or the most beautiful love. The calm, cool mother of the Host Club could be broken down to a sobbing, lovesick, teenage girl in less than a second by the heartbreaker, Tamaki Suoh.
Meanwhile, as quiet sobs were still ripping themselves free of Kyoya, Tamaki stood on the opposite side of Kyoya's door, leaning his weight heavily upon it. Every time. Every single time he was with Kyoya alone, his visit always ended with Kyoya suddenly claiming exhaustion and sending him out, then sitting, crying, once Tamaki exited. As his own tears dripped down his face, Tamaki wished that he'd have the courage, just once, to go back in the room and comfort Kyoya's anguish.
He couldn't find the strength, though. He knew if he ever reentered the room to comfort Kyoya, he wouldn't be able to keep his feelings from escaping, and there was absolutely no way Kyoya could return those feelings. Even if he did love Tamaki, keeping his family's reputation squeaky clean would come before his own well-being. Having a son with a boy as his love would not cause the majority of the world to look kindly upon the Ootori family, and Kyoya would likely be disowned. Tamaki wouldn't dare put his dear friend in such an unsatisfactory position. He would never ask Kyoya to choose between Tamaki and his family.
Kyoya had long ago placed his notebook on the nightstand, deciding he was too tired to write. He had promptly cried himself to sleep, having no idea that Tamaki still stood just outside, his back glued to the door. It was hours later before Tamaki realized how late it really was, but that wasn't before a maid walked past with a confused look on her face.
The maid must've been a tad worried about the situation, because a few moments later, Kyoya's older sister, Fuyumi, wandered by and turned to speak to Tamaki.
"Hello, Tamaki. I heard you've been sitting here for awhile. Do you need a ride home?"
"No, Fuyumi, but thank you. I was just worried about Kyoya, so I stayed here a bit longer than I should've."
"Well, it's nearly ten o'clock now. I don't think your family's driver will appreciate you calling to be picked up at this hour. How about we wake Kyoya up and have you stay the night? His bed is more than large enough for the both of you." Fuyumi gave the blonde a secret smirk when he turned away with a furious blush burning his cheeks.
Fuyumi had known for years of Kyoya's hidden feelings for his boisterous, blonde friend, but she hadn't been sure of Tamaki's until that very moment. Now that she was positive Tamaki returned the romantic feelings, she was determined to get her brother to confess. She was tired of walking in on her strong, confident brother crying like a child over a boy he believed he didn't deserve to have.
"I don't think I can impose on Kyoya like that. He seemed a bit down when he sent me away earlier," Tamaki mumbled, refusing to look Fuyumi directly in the eyes.
"Oh, he won't mind a bit," Fuyumi grinned evilly. "I'll go wake him. You go get ready for bed. You remember where the bathroom is, right? There are spare toothbrushes on the far right drawer that you can pick from to use. I'll see if Kyoya has some spare pajamas you can wear as well."
"Thanks, Fuyumi," Tamaki whispered, resigned to his fate of having to sleep beside his secret love for the rest of the night.
Fuyumi smiled peacefully at Tamaki's back as he walked down the hall. Her impromptu plan was going perfectly so far. Now, she just had to talk to Kyoya.
She entered the room, quietly murmuring Kyoya's name to rouse him from his light, tear-induced slumber. Waking slowly, Kyoya blinked in confusion, wondering why Fuyumi was waking him when it was still very obviously dark outside. In fact, he was too confused and his head still too full of unshed tears for him to even react in his normal, scary fashion so typical to occur after being awoken much earlier than he wished to have slept.
"Hey, little brother. Tamaki forgot to go home, apparently, so I told him he could sleep here tonight. Could you let him borrow a pair of pajamas?"
"Umm … sure. Which guest room is he staying in?"
"Well, I thought he could just stay in here with you. There's certainly more than enough room in your bed …" Fuyumi trailed off, trying to give off the impression of being apologetic.
Kyoya was speechless, only having the ability to stare in shock at Fuyumi for several seconds before rising from his bed and fetching an old pair of pajamas from his dresser for Tamaki to use, still silent in his shock and fear. Fuyumi grabbed the clothing from her brother with a quick "thanks!" before dashing to the bathroom to hand off the clothes to Tamaki, giving him instructions to just go back to Kyoya's room when he was done readying himself for bed.
Tamaki hurried to finish his preparations, then rushed to Kyoya's room. Tamaki was stunned into an unusually silent state by the arousing sight he was met with. Kyoya was there, seated on his bed. His wide, intensely dark eyes were stuck, unseeingly, to the wall. His pale, sweaty hands were clasped so tightly in his lap that his knuckles were stained white. He was chewing his bottom lip out of nervousness, and his jet black hair was tousled from sleep.
"Kyoya," Tamaki breathed, his own eyes wide as saucers.
Kyoya immediately snapped to attention, though his eyes were still filled with inexplicable fear.
"Hello, Tamaki," he said in an emotionless monotone. "Do you ever go home when I send you out?"
"No," Tamaki admitted, looking at the ground in shame. "But Kyo—"
"Stop. I'm tired. We can talk in the morning." Kyoya no longer looked afraid, but his eyes had taken on a dead, haunted look to replace the fear.
"No. Tamaki, I don't want to talk. Just go to sleep," Kyoya's command left no room for argument, so Tamaki did what he was instructed and climbed into bed. Both boys sat awkwardly and stared at the wall for a few minutes before Tamaki finally took the initiative to lay down. Kyoya followed suit, and both laid in the dark, trying with all their might to resist the urge to reach out and touch the other. Despite both boys' utter exhaustion, the sparks flying through the air were nearly tangible. Neither could bring theirself to ignore them, but once again, Tamaki was the first to act.
"Why do you always cry after you ask me to leave?"
At first, the ensuing silence seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. Tamaki had almost given up on getting any response at all, when he heard, "I can't tell you," in an eerily timid voice.
"What's wrong, Kyoya? You're always so strong. You never let your emotions get to you. But now it seems like I'm always making you cry. Why? What am I doing to make you so sad?" Tamaki was horrified to discover tears dripping down his own face again, and was even more so when he noticed Kyoya had a new batch of tears brewing as well. "See? I'm making you cry again! Stop, Kyoya! What am I doing wrong?"
"Nothing! You're doing nothing wrong!" Kyoya shouted, sitting straight up in bed.
"Then why are you crying?" Tamaki rose as well, grabbing Kyoya by the shoulders and shaking him roughly.
"Because you're perfect!" Kyoya burst out.
Tamaki was rendered speechless, mouth simply gaping in astonishment.
"You're funny and smart and everyone loves you! You could get absolutely anyone you set your sights on! Even Haruhi …" Kyoya trailed off.
"Haruhi? Why bring her up? She's just our precious daughter—nothing more."
"You tell yourself that, but I can tell that, deep down, you have marvelous feelings for her," Kyoya choked.
Tamaki bellowed out a laugh full of false happiness and genuine astonishment. "Oh, my dear Kyoya, I'm sorry, but that is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard!" Tamaki chortled.
"Well, pardon me for being such an idiot!" Kyoya growled.
"Silly, silly, Kyoya. You should've told me ages ago how jealous you were. It would've made things a lot simpler."
"You can have Haruhi if you want her. She is nothing more than a friend to me." Though Tamaki sounded calm while stating that, his heart was pounding like a bass drum. He hoped more than anything that he had misunderstood Kyoya's intentions. He certainly didn't want to lose Kyoya to Haruhi.
"...You absolute idiot," Kyoya murmured lovingly, before he took Tamaki by complete surprise by reaching over and clutching his face. "It's not that stupid girl I love, moron."
"Hey! Haruhi's not stupid!" At least, that was what Tamaki would have said, if his mouth hadn't been covered just at that moment by another pair of soft lips.
The kiss was soft and chaste, only lasting a few seconds, before Kyoya pulled away, a healthy, pink tinge coloring his cheeks. Tamaki wanted to ask Kyoya why he had stopped kissing him so quickly, but really, Tamaki only had the energy to lean in toward Kyoya and give him another kiss that was much too short for either boy's liking. And then, both boys just gave in to what they had been feeling all along.
Hair was ruffled and shirts were torn off before Tamaki finally pulled away.
"What? Regret it already?" Kyoya asked in a defeated voice.
"No, not at all. Really, Kyoya, you have to be more confident!" Tamaki grinned. When he didn't get any response from his friend—or was he a lover now?—he went back to being completely serious. "Kyoya, we're just moving way too fast. At this rate, we'll end up going all the way tonight, and we haven't even gone on a date! We've never said 'I love you' to each other. We just had our first kiss half an hour ago, and we haven't had any chance to talk about this! I don't want this to last for only a night, Kyoya. I truly want to be with you," Tamaki confessed.
"Yes. Good. I was afraid you would only want me for this night alone. That was why I was trying to speed things along. But I really am much too tired tonight. I doubt I'll even remember much of this in the morning. I tend to forget when things happen and I'm tired like this."
"So, we'll talk about us in the morning?"
Both boys laid back down, shifting automatically as far away from the other as they could get. After five minutes of that, Tamaki had had enough of the awkwardness. It was affecting his ability to sleep.
"I love you."
No sound came from Kyoya's side of the bed for a moment. Tamaki felt his eyes begin to fill with tears once again, and was just about to climb out of bed to find Fuyumi and call for his driver after all, when he felt Kyoya shifting around. Tamaki laid perfectly still, curious as to what Kyoya was doing, but his question was answered when he felt a strong arm wrap protectively around his waist and a heavy head rest upon his shoulder. Tamaki couldn't keep himself from beaming at the ceiling as Kyoya breathed out an adorable little sigh and squeezed his arm around Tamaki for a split second before letting it relax again.
Slowly, both boys let their eyes fall shut. Things would be terribly and wonderfully different when they woke up, but it would all turn out all right, once they talked about it in the morning.