A/N: It's 2013 and time for 1827 month! For those who don't know, 1827 month starts on Jan. 8 and ends on Feb. 7 (1/8, 2/7) and is dedicated to our favorite ship, 1827! Aw yiss, time for 1827 to make a come back!

I've got my contribution lined up! A whole month of prompts from the 1827logy blog on Tumblr. I will, hopefully, be posting one of these little ficlets everyday for the whole month! They will come in a variety of genres, themes, and universes. Most of them would probably be fluffy and OOC though, lol. Bear with me though because I know how much you love me~

Anyway, enjoy my darlings and don't forget to take a peek at my 1827 blog clouds-and-skies and my main blog xen-mode (I got tired of emotivegothika but I still have the url because of reasons). Also check out the 1827logy for more 1827 goodness!

Warning/s: None but WAFF here

Disclaimer: Only gonna say this once, I definitely don't own KHR, it's characters, or the 1827 ship. It doesn't stop me from wishing though,


First Meeting

Kyouya had never believed in love at first sight. In fact, he thought it was quite a stupid concept to him. How could anyone fall in love with someone they had just laid their eyes upon? If anything they would fall in lust because the person might be handsome or beautiful, but love? No. Call him an unromantic (or a romantic, whatever), but Kyouya had the firm belief that falling in love was a slow and steady process to solidify a strong bond. How else can two people learn to tolerate each other in intimacy if they do not know each other at all?

Well, he used to believe that. That changed when he met Sawada Tsunayoshi.

It was strange how attraction works. Just one look from the right person could bring a smile or a blush onto a person's face. Not even Kyouya was immune to the unconscious acts of the body, no matter how hard he tried to control it. He was more unreadable than the average person, yes, but that didn't mean he was a complete robot.

Anyway, that day had started like any other. Kyouya had gotten up, did his daily morning routines, bid his family farewell, and then made his way to the train station. The ride to the university was a lengthy one – he still needed to take a bus – but he didn't want to move out of his family home in favor of living by himself in a dorm or apartment. It was cheaper that way and, though he wouldn't admit it, Kyouya was much too comfortable with his family than living alone.

While waiting for his train to arrive, Kyouya was reading a book that was assigned to his English literature class. He still had a bit of a struggle with old English – as did most other English-speakers no doubt – but he was fairly enjoying Hamlet, even if the things the characters did were pretty much stupid and illogical.

Kyouya had been minding his own business, near oblivious to the world in favor of reading. However his reading was interrupted when a piece of paper smacked him in the side of his head and was stuck there by the force of the wind.

He heard a squeak from beside him and an awkward kind of tension filled the air. Slowly, almost as if he was completely indifferent to having a piece of paper being stuck to his head, Kyouya pulled it off and gave it a cursory glance over. It was a page of notes, the handwriting a little messy but legible. He took in the numbers and letters of advanced algebra before he looked up at the person next to him, no doubt the owner of the paper and the one he heard the squeak from.

And then Kyouya promptly caught his breath.

The man standing next to him was looking nervous and fidgety. He was shorter than Kyouya, though only by a few inches and the way his brown hair stuck up from his head in messy but completely natural spikes seemed to make up for that height difference. His eyes, a lighter shade of brown than his hair, were wide, boyish, but seemed to hide much more intelligence than was let on. He had fair skin, a darker shade than Kyouya's own pale complexion, and his body was lean, slender, more narrow around the shoulders than Kyouya's.

But Kyouya thought he was the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon.

"S-Sorry," the man said, holding his hand out for the paper which Kyouya absently handed over. "The wind was stronger than I expected."

The man let out a nervous laugh and Kyouya had to fight not to bite his lip at the pleasure the sound of the man's voice brought to him. It was low, a little husky, but smooth and calming and if Kyouya would describe that voice with a metaphor he would liken it to melted chocolate; sweet, creamy, smooth, and bringing pleasure with every taste.

Later, in the future, Kyouya would laugh at how much he disdained the notion of love at first sight. He still believed that true love was a slow and steady process to solidify a strong bond, but he no longer disregarded the idea that love at first sight was ridiculous.

After all, if he hadn't seen Tsunayoshi for the first time at the train station, he would have never fallen so deep in love with that man.