Melody of Porcelain and Childhood Fantasy
Title: Melody of Porcelain and Childhood Fantasy
Author/Artist: savifa
Pairing: Hikaru/Kaoru/Kyouya/Tamaki
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Theme: (basic102) rafters; 86. Jewelry Box
Ratings/Warnings: R for angst, fluff, vaguely written and mention to sexual content
Summary: However, the most common form of stories behind beauty come with the beginning holding a boring sentence...
Perched on the vanity table of their bedroom was a simplistic, yet elegant, porcelain jewelry box. Intricate patterns were carved on the top and sides, gold-painted pegs acting as feet holding it taller than should be; it was beautiful but with every beautiful thing there was always a story.
Sometimes stories begin with a fleetingly happy feeling but, as it progresses, ends with the climatic fall of pain and suffering, tears and hurt; other times a story can start out with a “Once upon a time” and with “And they all lived happily ever after” though who can say for sure that these stories hold any truth behind them? However, the most common form of stories behind beauty come with the beginning holding a boring sentence, something that would not catch a person’s attention, and, yet, as it unfolds one cannot help but get immersed within the folds of the teller’s words and imagery; to wonder if there will be a happy end or a sad one; it was a risk (a gamble) and sometimes those stories just never had an end in sight.
But this jewelry box placed all three together and molded the way of a story into something new. Something different. Something that no one had ever heard before.
“It was my mother’s,” Tamaki had said once, gaining the attention of two pairs of eyes as the third set continued to gaze almost coldly at the porcelain box. It was scary how such a person could carry a cheerful smile while the waver in his voice was more than prominent, dominating over all other emotion.
“She gave it to me before I left France for Japan.” That smile grew and only one of other three visibly frowned at the action.
Kyouya hated Tamaki for that, for feigning a smile and trying his damn best to hold up a front before them all; he hated it because he had seen it far too many times before and when those moments came up it was only sheer will that held him from yelling.
But Kyouya knew that he had no room to speak, as it would just get that kind smile and sad pair of eyes. It would be the pot calling the kettle and Kyouya always knew better than that.
But as he glanced towards the twins-Hikaru’s usually bored expression now drowned with curiosity as Tamaki went on with his story and Kaoru occasionally sparing a glance from the blond to look at the jewelry box-he could tell that they could not hear or see the forced smile and laugh and happiness. With a bitter smile on his lips he shook his head. You would think that after knowing him for so long, they would be able to pick up on his actions.
In the end, as it always ways and has been, it was only Kyouya that could see and hear it all.
And maybe, in some sick sense of reason, that was how Tamaki wanted it. For Hikaru and Kaoru to not be able to pick up on the fake happiness would be for the better. They would not have to go through the same worry and fear that Kyouya did, they would not have to listen to the words with a pit at the bottom of their stomach as daggers were pushed rough and forcefully against their heart and mind and body.
It was for the better because Kyouya knew that Tamaki did not want to put those two into the same position that he had put his best friend. Tamaki was too much of a kind hearted fool to ever shove someone else there and with the twins outside of that area the blond could go to them for a different sense of comfort than what he with Kyouya.
“…and when she was well enough she would sit before the mirror, the jewelry box on her lap, and pick out the little trinkets of gold and silver that father had bought and given to her after they met.”
The voice was close and Kyouya noticed just how close Tamaki was now. He had not felt the dip of the bed when the blond sat, nor had he felt the blond set his head to his shoulder. It had taken the babble of the bright eyed blond to bring him back to reality and he just wondered how long Tamaki had been speaking for now.
“So, uh…” Hikaru’s habit of interjection was usually a well fond of thing when it came to Tamaki’s babble. However, it could be questioned on whether it was good or bad within the frame of reason this time. “Why did she give it to you, anyway? All you’ve been doing was talking about the story behind it and all that, but never gave a reason for it.”
There was an underlying “Usually people just cut to the chase when they say things.” that went unspoken but was heard as silence fell over the room.
Tamaki tensed and Kyouya reached for his hand as an automatic response, squeezing the blond’s hand in his own and quietly trying to calm him down. Without having to look he knew that those violet-blue eyes had widened just slightly and those lips were set in a near-thin line.
Tamaki’s actions had always spoken louder than his words.
And it only took a minute before the heir to the Suoh fortune stood quickly, leaving a cold absence with Kyouya, and painted that smile on his fair face and eyes. Those piano-fingered hands slipped to slim hips and a cheery little clip hit his voice as he spoke, “because I was always looking at it when I was a little boy!”
It was not much of an excuse and, judging by Hikaru’s expression, one that he was more or less expecting and Kaoru just smiled a little, moving to stand and then stretch.
“We have a plane to catch, Hikaru.”
“Huh?” The still-sitting twin glanced up at his brother as realization dawned in that slow brain of his. He stood, smoothing out wrinkles on his shirt. “Oh, yeah, mom’s new line. I almost forgot about that.”
Silence soon followed with puppy dog eyes and both Hikaru and Kaoru were then tackled to the floor-Hikaru with a glare and grunt, and Kaoru with a heavy sigh. Kyouya could not help but smirk in amusement at the sight. It was so like Tamaki to forget these things and it was usually up to one of them to remind him.
It must have slipped both of the twins’ minds to do just that earlier during the day.
“Come on, tono, get the hell off of us!”
“We’re going to miss the flight if we don’t leave now.”
“You two shouldn’t have to go!”
There was a sigh (Hikaru, this time) and he glanced up to the bespectacled boy on the bed and glared. It was too much to hope for Kyouya to come to their aid, not when his head was bowed and hand over his mouth to try and hide his amusement at the scene.
“Tamaki, please,” Kaoru started, waiting and watching as the older boy raised his head. Those puppy dog eyes were set into place and his willpower faltered. That look could have been considered a weapon of mass destruction, as it could make anybody give in.
Kyouya was one of the best examples to the Power of the Puppy Eyes™ because he always gave in when Tamaki turned those wet eyes on him.
“I know you don’t want us to go but we have to.” Kaoru paused, prying the death-grip arm off of him and slipping away with a smile. “Our mother will be so disappointed if we don’t go to this fashion premiere of hers and neither Hikaru nor I want to do that to her.”
Tamaki pouted in defeat and let Hikaru go, feeling the boy slip from under him and listened to the sound of his sitting up.
Kyouya only watched the even unfold from the bed, finally having glanced up after the initial waves of amusement had faded. He would have his say in things later, anyway, when Tamaki came complaining and whining.
“Tono…” The blond spared not a glance to Hikaru as he pushed himself up and to his knees. “Tono.” He still would not look at him and it took the blur of a hand and rough twist of face and neck to get Tamaki to look at Hikaru; wide eyed and surprised the blond opened his mouth to speak but found the words dead on his tongue when lips pressed against his in a rough kiss.
The reward for pulling away was a sound of annoyance from Tamaki and Hikaru only smirked, winking before he stood. Setting his eyes on his brother he snorted, the smirk widening as he caught him in the act of sharing a goodbye kiss with Kyouya.
It was not anything new but the sudden flush of pink embarrassment to the younger twin’s face was a goodbye enough for the blond.
-.-.-.-
The house felt empty without Hikaru and Kaoru, Kyouya noted to himself, tilting his head in the direction of his best friend and lover. He blinked at the sight of a too-still Tamaki, fingers gripping the fabric of his pajama pants tightly and those usually cheerful eyes set with an unreadable expression.
These were the moments that set the pit within his stomach and worry started to bubble up. It would only be a matter of time before it boiled over and he was forced to do something to bring Tamaki out of whatever place he had sent himself to.
But he would not have to do that because Tamaki looked up over at him, thin lipped and eyes still unreadable, looking ready to speak. “Kyouya…”
Kyouya frowned. He could not help it; he hated being unable to read Tamaki and that flat tone of voice just had no way of helping him read the blond. He wanted to yell but he just had no will to raise his voice to Tamaki. Not right now.
He wanted to at least hear what he had to say.
“What is it, Tamaki?” He asked, putting up that air of curiousity and thin-lipped smile.
“Ah, well.” The Suoh heir fidgeted, head bowing for a second before popping up and tilting. “I was thinking about something…”
Kyouya shifted, giving a soft nod for the other boy to continue.
“Well, you see. Do you think that… How different do you think things would have been if grandmother never asked of me to come to Japan and allowed me to the heir to the Suoh name?”
Kyouya froze.
All words were dead and he had no form of response to the question posed. What was with Tamaki? He should not be acting in the way he was. It was so unlike him. Out of character. It was scary.
“…what?”
Tamaki sighed and stood. “How different would everything have been if we never met and became friends, or made the club, or started what we did?” Their relationship with each other, with the twins. Everything. “What would have happened to us all if we never crossed paths with one another and our lives had just carried on like usual?”
There was pain in his eyes and Kyouya opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Tamaki continued.
“I hate thinking about it all but I do and when I do I think about my mother and then the jewelry box and how she gave it to me because she had told me to give it to the sweet young woman I would one day meet and fall in love with, and then marry and have children with.”
And there was the real reason behind the jewelry box. No made up lie or sugar coated smile with the words. Only a bitter glare towards the porcelain box and trembling hands, furrowed blond eyebrows and the threat of tears.
“But that’s not going to happen now, is it? I’m not going to find that sweet young woman that mother thought about or have any children with her or get married to her because I have no real interest in them and I’m in love with you and Hikaru and Kaoru.”
That tone of voice, the way he said each name, the once again unreadable eyes and thin expression. Something about it lit a fuse in Kyouya’s brain and he stared coldly towards Tamaki, fingers curling tight against the bed sheets and his front teeth digging into his bottom lip.
If he said one more word, uttered just another little syllable, Kyouya could not be accounted for his actions.
“Mother must be so disappointed in me now.”
And something snapped; something went off and the only thing Tamaki could realize was his body being slammed against the wall and his breath being knocked out. Hands gripped his shoulders roughly, too tight, and there was going to bruises there in the morning.
There were tears in his eyes and Kyouya had no feeling to care about that or the look of pain across the blond’s face. No, he did not want to care because Tamaki had gone too far this time. Poor choice of words and stupid questions and all those damned what ifs just pissed Kyouya off that if had not the slightest bit of realization left Tamaki would have found himself on the floor instead of against the wall and with a sore jaw instead of a hurting back. But heaven be damned if he was going to allow Tamaki to get away with saying all of that.
“Shut up. Shut up, just shut the hell up and stop acting like that!”
The blond flinched and tried to recoil from the words, failing as Kyouya pressed his body closer and pressed Tamaki harder into the wall.
“I hate you right now,” Kyouya spat, eyes narrowed and filled such negativity that it actually scared Tamaki and he tried to get away, squirm free and make a run for the door. But Kyouya’s grip was too tight and it only grew tighter, which got a whimper of pain from the blond. “I hate the way you’re speaking about things, the way you say them, and how you’re looking when you say them. Listening to you say all of that, just letting the realization sink in that you feel that way makes me want to wonder if you even really give a damn about everything.”
“K…Kyouya-”
“Don’t talk!” He watched Tamaki flinch, felt the blond’s hands raise to his arms and dig his fingers and nails into his skin in attempt to try and get the hands off of him. “Don’t say anything because I’m so pissed off at you right now.”
“But… Kyouya! It… It hurts and…” The last time he had seen Kyouya worked up was shortly after they had met and he had said something to strike a chord in the other boy. But this time Tamaki was actually afraid of Kyouya’s anger. He had never seen him this angry before and it hurt both mentally and physically, to know that he had the ability to upset his lover this much.
“S-Shut up…”
“Kyouya…”
He had no interest to hear anything from Tamaki but he wanted to hear everything from him. He hated himself for getting so worked up but at the same time it was for the best to get so upset. It allowed Tamaki to see just how much certain words could hurt and upset a person.
“Kyouya, please,” Tamaki murmured, lowering his voice to a comforting level. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I hurt you.” And Kyouya knew better than anyone how much the aspect of hurting others pained Tamaki. “I’m so sorry.”
Fingers brushed his face and Kyouya kept staring dead-on at Tamaki, watching as those oddly colored eyes softened and a small smile rose on those lips and how he looked so authentically sorry for saying everything he had and for causing Kyouya to get so upset and react the way he did. Kyouya saw that Tamaki did not blame him for the violent outburst, the angry tones, or the dark stares.
Tamaki was going to take all the blame.
He was going to take all the blame like he always did and try to learn from those mistakes so he would never ever make them again. But Tamaki, regardless of how hard he always tried, would make another mistake in due time.
Kyouya felt defeated. Defeated because Tamaki was holding no ill feelings towards him and just smiling that smile of his while holding his face in his hands and Kyouya just wanted to cry. But Ootori Kyouya did not cry-at least, not in front of anyone.
“I’m sorry, Kyouya. I really am…” Then that smile widened a bit and a stupid sort of look seemed to enter violet hued eyes. It was enough to make Kyouya sigh and return it with a smile of his own-a small up turn of the lips that anybody could miss if they did not carefully look.
He kissed him then, closing the already short distance between their face. It started out slow, just a soft press of lips and apologies. A wordless action that both easily understood.
As upset as Kyouya got with Tamaki it was always too hard to stay mad at the blond. It was the tension that ran between them and as that tension grew (bodies shivering, mouths pressing rough, tongues tangling) invisible sparks tried to start a fire.
A murmured “Don’t ever bring it up again” was whispered into the kiss, the words muffled by soft whimpers and tiny moans. Hands slipped past thin layers of clothing, touching and teasing the plains of baby smooth skin with paper-work roughened hands. The only sound of recognition to that request was a small nod and a gasp, wide violet eyes that were soon hidden by blond bangs.
Clothing was strewn as they worked towards the bed, legs often tangling in the hurried rush and the near trip-and-fall only caught by one or the other.
“Kyouya,” the blond gasped and the bed groaned beneath the sudden weight of two bodies pressing down to the mattress and sheets.
Yet this was not a small fire that those sparks started.
There were hands against heated skin, slick fingers working in a carefully rushed motion, pale fingers working through dark hair (contrasting but complimenting almost to the point of perfection). Mouth to neck with licks, kisses, nips, and bites that were hard enough to leave a mark.
No, this sort of fire was one large enough to ravage a defenseless forest; to burn it down from lush green and brown only to leave scalding land and ashes.
Body to body, lurching, shivering, trembling, arching; cries muffled by bitten on hands, soft whispers in a tongue not native to the ears, heavy breathing, whimpers, fingers tugging at hair and nails digging into skin. An easy motion they knew but were not familiar with.
It had been too long since the last time but it was almost like dancing.
Almost.
But it was a form of dancing, so would Tamaki say if he ever found a need to say it; because, like dancing, it held a tempo and beat and rhythm that was set according to surrounding and music.
This was the spark between them, the large growth of tension from just the smallest of actions and words and looks. Different from that they shared with either of twins (each tension and spark was different; no two would ever be alike in feeling).
And it was over with a groan and choked sob of a name, the sounds sounding so different but so right together. Shaky, trembling hands brushed against sweat tainted skin and smoothed back stray strands of hair.
Light whispers filled the room as positions shifted and Kyouya found Tamaki curling against his side, his glasses lost and there would be no care to find them until the morning anyway.
Author/Artist: savifa
Pairing: Hikaru/Kaoru/Kyouya/Tamaki
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Theme: (basic102) rafters; 86. Jewelry Box
Ratings/Warnings: R for angst, fluff, vaguely written and mention to sexual content
Summary: However, the most common form of stories behind beauty come with the beginning holding a boring sentence...
Perched on the vanity table of their bedroom was a simplistic, yet elegant, porcelain jewelry box. Intricate patterns were carved on the top and sides, gold-painted pegs acting as feet holding it taller than should be; it was beautiful but with every beautiful thing there was always a story.
Sometimes stories begin with a fleetingly happy feeling but, as it progresses, ends with the climatic fall of pain and suffering, tears and hurt; other times a story can start out with a “Once upon a time” and with “And they all lived happily ever after” though who can say for sure that these stories hold any truth behind them? However, the most common form of stories behind beauty come with the beginning holding a boring sentence, something that would not catch a person’s attention, and, yet, as it unfolds one cannot help but get immersed within the folds of the teller’s words and imagery; to wonder if there will be a happy end or a sad one; it was a risk (a gamble) and sometimes those stories just never had an end in sight.
But this jewelry box placed all three together and molded the way of a story into something new. Something different. Something that no one had ever heard before.
“It was my mother’s,” Tamaki had said once, gaining the attention of two pairs of eyes as the third set continued to gaze almost coldly at the porcelain box. It was scary how such a person could carry a cheerful smile while the waver in his voice was more than prominent, dominating over all other emotion.
“She gave it to me before I left France for Japan.” That smile grew and only one of other three visibly frowned at the action.
Kyouya hated Tamaki for that, for feigning a smile and trying his damn best to hold up a front before them all; he hated it because he had seen it far too many times before and when those moments came up it was only sheer will that held him from yelling.
But Kyouya knew that he had no room to speak, as it would just get that kind smile and sad pair of eyes. It would be the pot calling the kettle and Kyouya always knew better than that.
But as he glanced towards the twins-Hikaru’s usually bored expression now drowned with curiosity as Tamaki went on with his story and Kaoru occasionally sparing a glance from the blond to look at the jewelry box-he could tell that they could not hear or see the forced smile and laugh and happiness. With a bitter smile on his lips he shook his head. You would think that after knowing him for so long, they would be able to pick up on his actions.
In the end, as it always ways and has been, it was only Kyouya that could see and hear it all.
And maybe, in some sick sense of reason, that was how Tamaki wanted it. For Hikaru and Kaoru to not be able to pick up on the fake happiness would be for the better. They would not have to go through the same worry and fear that Kyouya did, they would not have to listen to the words with a pit at the bottom of their stomach as daggers were pushed rough and forcefully against their heart and mind and body.
It was for the better because Kyouya knew that Tamaki did not want to put those two into the same position that he had put his best friend. Tamaki was too much of a kind hearted fool to ever shove someone else there and with the twins outside of that area the blond could go to them for a different sense of comfort than what he with Kyouya.
“…and when she was well enough she would sit before the mirror, the jewelry box on her lap, and pick out the little trinkets of gold and silver that father had bought and given to her after they met.”
The voice was close and Kyouya noticed just how close Tamaki was now. He had not felt the dip of the bed when the blond sat, nor had he felt the blond set his head to his shoulder. It had taken the babble of the bright eyed blond to bring him back to reality and he just wondered how long Tamaki had been speaking for now.
“So, uh…” Hikaru’s habit of interjection was usually a well fond of thing when it came to Tamaki’s babble. However, it could be questioned on whether it was good or bad within the frame of reason this time. “Why did she give it to you, anyway? All you’ve been doing was talking about the story behind it and all that, but never gave a reason for it.”
There was an underlying “Usually people just cut to the chase when they say things.” that went unspoken but was heard as silence fell over the room.
Tamaki tensed and Kyouya reached for his hand as an automatic response, squeezing the blond’s hand in his own and quietly trying to calm him down. Without having to look he knew that those violet-blue eyes had widened just slightly and those lips were set in a near-thin line.
Tamaki’s actions had always spoken louder than his words.
And it only took a minute before the heir to the Suoh fortune stood quickly, leaving a cold absence with Kyouya, and painted that smile on his fair face and eyes. Those piano-fingered hands slipped to slim hips and a cheery little clip hit his voice as he spoke, “because I was always looking at it when I was a little boy!”
It was not much of an excuse and, judging by Hikaru’s expression, one that he was more or less expecting and Kaoru just smiled a little, moving to stand and then stretch.
“We have a plane to catch, Hikaru.”
“Huh?” The still-sitting twin glanced up at his brother as realization dawned in that slow brain of his. He stood, smoothing out wrinkles on his shirt. “Oh, yeah, mom’s new line. I almost forgot about that.”
Silence soon followed with puppy dog eyes and both Hikaru and Kaoru were then tackled to the floor-Hikaru with a glare and grunt, and Kaoru with a heavy sigh. Kyouya could not help but smirk in amusement at the sight. It was so like Tamaki to forget these things and it was usually up to one of them to remind him.
It must have slipped both of the twins’ minds to do just that earlier during the day.
“Come on, tono, get the hell off of us!”
“We’re going to miss the flight if we don’t leave now.”
“You two shouldn’t have to go!”
There was a sigh (Hikaru, this time) and he glanced up to the bespectacled boy on the bed and glared. It was too much to hope for Kyouya to come to their aid, not when his head was bowed and hand over his mouth to try and hide his amusement at the scene.
“Tamaki, please,” Kaoru started, waiting and watching as the older boy raised his head. Those puppy dog eyes were set into place and his willpower faltered. That look could have been considered a weapon of mass destruction, as it could make anybody give in.
Kyouya was one of the best examples to the Power of the Puppy Eyes™ because he always gave in when Tamaki turned those wet eyes on him.
“I know you don’t want us to go but we have to.” Kaoru paused, prying the death-grip arm off of him and slipping away with a smile. “Our mother will be so disappointed if we don’t go to this fashion premiere of hers and neither Hikaru nor I want to do that to her.”
Tamaki pouted in defeat and let Hikaru go, feeling the boy slip from under him and listened to the sound of his sitting up.
Kyouya only watched the even unfold from the bed, finally having glanced up after the initial waves of amusement had faded. He would have his say in things later, anyway, when Tamaki came complaining and whining.
“Tono…” The blond spared not a glance to Hikaru as he pushed himself up and to his knees. “Tono.” He still would not look at him and it took the blur of a hand and rough twist of face and neck to get Tamaki to look at Hikaru; wide eyed and surprised the blond opened his mouth to speak but found the words dead on his tongue when lips pressed against his in a rough kiss.
The reward for pulling away was a sound of annoyance from Tamaki and Hikaru only smirked, winking before he stood. Setting his eyes on his brother he snorted, the smirk widening as he caught him in the act of sharing a goodbye kiss with Kyouya.
It was not anything new but the sudden flush of pink embarrassment to the younger twin’s face was a goodbye enough for the blond.
-.-.-.-
The house felt empty without Hikaru and Kaoru, Kyouya noted to himself, tilting his head in the direction of his best friend and lover. He blinked at the sight of a too-still Tamaki, fingers gripping the fabric of his pajama pants tightly and those usually cheerful eyes set with an unreadable expression.
These were the moments that set the pit within his stomach and worry started to bubble up. It would only be a matter of time before it boiled over and he was forced to do something to bring Tamaki out of whatever place he had sent himself to.
But he would not have to do that because Tamaki looked up over at him, thin lipped and eyes still unreadable, looking ready to speak. “Kyouya…”
Kyouya frowned. He could not help it; he hated being unable to read Tamaki and that flat tone of voice just had no way of helping him read the blond. He wanted to yell but he just had no will to raise his voice to Tamaki. Not right now.
He wanted to at least hear what he had to say.
“What is it, Tamaki?” He asked, putting up that air of curiousity and thin-lipped smile.
“Ah, well.” The Suoh heir fidgeted, head bowing for a second before popping up and tilting. “I was thinking about something…”
Kyouya shifted, giving a soft nod for the other boy to continue.
“Well, you see. Do you think that… How different do you think things would have been if grandmother never asked of me to come to Japan and allowed me to the heir to the Suoh name?”
Kyouya froze.
All words were dead and he had no form of response to the question posed. What was with Tamaki? He should not be acting in the way he was. It was so unlike him. Out of character. It was scary.
“…what?”
Tamaki sighed and stood. “How different would everything have been if we never met and became friends, or made the club, or started what we did?” Their relationship with each other, with the twins. Everything. “What would have happened to us all if we never crossed paths with one another and our lives had just carried on like usual?”
There was pain in his eyes and Kyouya opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Tamaki continued.
“I hate thinking about it all but I do and when I do I think about my mother and then the jewelry box and how she gave it to me because she had told me to give it to the sweet young woman I would one day meet and fall in love with, and then marry and have children with.”
And there was the real reason behind the jewelry box. No made up lie or sugar coated smile with the words. Only a bitter glare towards the porcelain box and trembling hands, furrowed blond eyebrows and the threat of tears.
“But that’s not going to happen now, is it? I’m not going to find that sweet young woman that mother thought about or have any children with her or get married to her because I have no real interest in them and I’m in love with you and Hikaru and Kaoru.”
That tone of voice, the way he said each name, the once again unreadable eyes and thin expression. Something about it lit a fuse in Kyouya’s brain and he stared coldly towards Tamaki, fingers curling tight against the bed sheets and his front teeth digging into his bottom lip.
If he said one more word, uttered just another little syllable, Kyouya could not be accounted for his actions.
“Mother must be so disappointed in me now.”
And something snapped; something went off and the only thing Tamaki could realize was his body being slammed against the wall and his breath being knocked out. Hands gripped his shoulders roughly, too tight, and there was going to bruises there in the morning.
There were tears in his eyes and Kyouya had no feeling to care about that or the look of pain across the blond’s face. No, he did not want to care because Tamaki had gone too far this time. Poor choice of words and stupid questions and all those damned what ifs just pissed Kyouya off that if had not the slightest bit of realization left Tamaki would have found himself on the floor instead of against the wall and with a sore jaw instead of a hurting back. But heaven be damned if he was going to allow Tamaki to get away with saying all of that.
“Shut up. Shut up, just shut the hell up and stop acting like that!”
The blond flinched and tried to recoil from the words, failing as Kyouya pressed his body closer and pressed Tamaki harder into the wall.
“I hate you right now,” Kyouya spat, eyes narrowed and filled such negativity that it actually scared Tamaki and he tried to get away, squirm free and make a run for the door. But Kyouya’s grip was too tight and it only grew tighter, which got a whimper of pain from the blond. “I hate the way you’re speaking about things, the way you say them, and how you’re looking when you say them. Listening to you say all of that, just letting the realization sink in that you feel that way makes me want to wonder if you even really give a damn about everything.”
“K…Kyouya-”
“Don’t talk!” He watched Tamaki flinch, felt the blond’s hands raise to his arms and dig his fingers and nails into his skin in attempt to try and get the hands off of him. “Don’t say anything because I’m so pissed off at you right now.”
“But… Kyouya! It… It hurts and…” The last time he had seen Kyouya worked up was shortly after they had met and he had said something to strike a chord in the other boy. But this time Tamaki was actually afraid of Kyouya’s anger. He had never seen him this angry before and it hurt both mentally and physically, to know that he had the ability to upset his lover this much.
“S-Shut up…”
“Kyouya…”
He had no interest to hear anything from Tamaki but he wanted to hear everything from him. He hated himself for getting so worked up but at the same time it was for the best to get so upset. It allowed Tamaki to see just how much certain words could hurt and upset a person.
“Kyouya, please,” Tamaki murmured, lowering his voice to a comforting level. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I hurt you.” And Kyouya knew better than anyone how much the aspect of hurting others pained Tamaki. “I’m so sorry.”
Fingers brushed his face and Kyouya kept staring dead-on at Tamaki, watching as those oddly colored eyes softened and a small smile rose on those lips and how he looked so authentically sorry for saying everything he had and for causing Kyouya to get so upset and react the way he did. Kyouya saw that Tamaki did not blame him for the violent outburst, the angry tones, or the dark stares.
Tamaki was going to take all the blame.
He was going to take all the blame like he always did and try to learn from those mistakes so he would never ever make them again. But Tamaki, regardless of how hard he always tried, would make another mistake in due time.
Kyouya felt defeated. Defeated because Tamaki was holding no ill feelings towards him and just smiling that smile of his while holding his face in his hands and Kyouya just wanted to cry. But Ootori Kyouya did not cry-at least, not in front of anyone.
“I’m sorry, Kyouya. I really am…” Then that smile widened a bit and a stupid sort of look seemed to enter violet hued eyes. It was enough to make Kyouya sigh and return it with a smile of his own-a small up turn of the lips that anybody could miss if they did not carefully look.
He kissed him then, closing the already short distance between their face. It started out slow, just a soft press of lips and apologies. A wordless action that both easily understood.
As upset as Kyouya got with Tamaki it was always too hard to stay mad at the blond. It was the tension that ran between them and as that tension grew (bodies shivering, mouths pressing rough, tongues tangling) invisible sparks tried to start a fire.
A murmured “Don’t ever bring it up again” was whispered into the kiss, the words muffled by soft whimpers and tiny moans. Hands slipped past thin layers of clothing, touching and teasing the plains of baby smooth skin with paper-work roughened hands. The only sound of recognition to that request was a small nod and a gasp, wide violet eyes that were soon hidden by blond bangs.
Clothing was strewn as they worked towards the bed, legs often tangling in the hurried rush and the near trip-and-fall only caught by one or the other.
“Kyouya,” the blond gasped and the bed groaned beneath the sudden weight of two bodies pressing down to the mattress and sheets.
Yet this was not a small fire that those sparks started.
There were hands against heated skin, slick fingers working in a carefully rushed motion, pale fingers working through dark hair (contrasting but complimenting almost to the point of perfection). Mouth to neck with licks, kisses, nips, and bites that were hard enough to leave a mark.
No, this sort of fire was one large enough to ravage a defenseless forest; to burn it down from lush green and brown only to leave scalding land and ashes.
Body to body, lurching, shivering, trembling, arching; cries muffled by bitten on hands, soft whispers in a tongue not native to the ears, heavy breathing, whimpers, fingers tugging at hair and nails digging into skin. An easy motion they knew but were not familiar with.
It had been too long since the last time but it was almost like dancing.
Almost.
But it was a form of dancing, so would Tamaki say if he ever found a need to say it; because, like dancing, it held a tempo and beat and rhythm that was set according to surrounding and music.
This was the spark between them, the large growth of tension from just the smallest of actions and words and looks. Different from that they shared with either of twins (each tension and spark was different; no two would ever be alike in feeling).
And it was over with a groan and choked sob of a name, the sounds sounding so different but so right together. Shaky, trembling hands brushed against sweat tainted skin and smoothed back stray strands of hair.
Light whispers filled the room as positions shifted and Kyouya found Tamaki curling against his side, his glasses lost and there would be no care to find them until the morning anyway.