(OHSHC - KxT) Payment in Full
Title: Payment in Full
Author: brainfuneral
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Rating: R
Summary: Tamaki's gaffe becomes Kyouya's gain.
Warning: Not safe for work!
Notes: Written for sharpeslass, who requested something with a hot and bothered Kyouya. Of course, this was ages ago, as I am a very very very slow writer. Hopefully it'll come as somewhat of a surprise since it's been so long! Many many thanks to jedishampoo for her beta skillz of doom!
Tamaki dragged his feet as he entered the third Music Room and headed straight for his usual sulking corner. Kyouya watched as he crouched down in the darkest part of the usually bright room and began drawing circles on the floor with his finger.
Taking a seat on the plush couch in the center of the room, Kyouya brought out his notebook and scribbled down several figures. Tamaki was silent in his self-imposed isolation. Kyouya made a noncommittal noise after arriving at his calculated financial loss.
“Tamaki.”
No response.
Kyouya cleared his throat. “Tamaki.”
Tamaki finally turned to face the rest of the expansive and empty Music Room. He wrapped his arms around his knees and said in a small voice, “I'm sorry, Kyouya. That didn't go as I'd planned it.”
“I would certainly hope not. You spilled incredibly hot coffee on the lap of an incredibly rich guest.”
“It was an accident! The twins were making obscene gestures and...”
Kyouya continued. “And then you forcibly took off his trousers in front of his fiancée, exposing his rather feminine choice in undergarments.”
“I was trying to dry off his uniform! I didn't know he would have strawberries on his...”
“After this, you forced him to eat a piece of cake, all the while pants-less and in full view of the entire Ouran Host Club Annual Brunch crowd. His throat closed up and he gagged on the cake, requiring the school paramedics to become involved.”
“I thought something sweet would make him feel better! How was I supposed to know he was allergic to carrots! Why did we even have carrot cake if one of our guests was allergic?!”
“Tamaki.” Kyouya said. The King had unwrapped himself and was writhing in agony on the carpet.
Tamaki ignored Kyouya and remained on the floor, twitching and murmuring to himself. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to! It was an accident! Wouldn't Haruhi look cute in strawberry underpants? Oh god, why me? I hope he wasn't too mad and didn't mean those things he said about the Host Club as the paramedics were taking him away!” Tamaki paused in his tirade and gulped for air.
“Tamaki, come here,” Kyouya ordered, raising his voice over Tamaki's stream of words.
Dragging himself to his feet, Tamaki wandered listlessly to where Kyouya sat. He dropped down on the floor next to Kyouya and looked up. Kyouya smiled pleasantly and folded his hands in his lap.
“I'll make it up to you somehow, Kyouya,” Tamaki exclaimed, becoming enthusiastic in a heartbeat. “I'm sure that strawberry-underpants guy won't hold a grudge against anybody, but even if he does, I'll make it up to Mother for ruining the event.”
Kyouya's smile widened. “Actually, I went to see young strawberry-briefs as he was being taken to his family's private hospital. His exact words were, 'this is all your fault, Ohtori, I thought you had more sense than that idiot Suoh! I'll see that I and my family never deal with you or your awful Host Club ever again!'”
A palpable gloom fell over the Host Club King. He said, “I'm sorry Kyouya. Well, I'll have to find some way to make it up to you, then.”
“Indeed.”
Tamaki sniffed. “Let's see...how can I make up with Mother?” He nibbled at his bottom lip with his teeth while he thought.
“Oh! Kyouya,” Tamaki said, eyes shining as he pleaded. “Don't make me wash your car again, please! Your sister sat on the lawn and laughed at me last time.”
Heaving a sigh, Kyouya said, “I wouldn't have you do that again, Tamaki.”
“Oh thank you, Kyouya!” Throwing his arms around Kyouya's knees, Tamaki rubbed his blond head against the starched fabric of Kyouya's uniform pants. “Mother is so merciful and kind after all!”
Kyouya cleared his throat. Tamaki looked up at him, eyes huge and teary. “I wouldn't have you do that again.” Kyouya adjusted his glasses, sending the glare strategically into Tamaki's eyes. “You did a terrible job last time. I had to have the driver redo your work, and had the entire car repainted because you scratched it taking off the horribly uneven coat of wax.”
Tamaki's bottom lip started quivering, and the tears in his eyes spilled over onto his cheeks. After a moment of silence, he broke out into a wail and again rubbed his head against Kyouya's leg. “I'm so sorry, Mother! Father didn't mean to scratch your car or dump coffee on carrot-allergy-strawberry-pants!”
Kyouya's pant-leg became damp from Tamaki's dramatic tears, and he made a note in his ever-present book to charge Tamaki for dry-cleaning them. “Tamaki.”
Continuing to sob and hug Kyouya's knees, Tamaki mumbled unintelligibly.
“Tamaki,” Kyouya said, keeping his voice at the same volume, but carrying with it that hint of polite Ohtori authority that chilled even the bravest men to the bone.
Sniffling, Tamaki wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and looked at Kyouya reluctantly. He blinked, his large purple eyes shining in the diffused Music Room light. His hair was disheveled, poking out in random directions, and the crying fit had given a sincere pink glow to his cheeks. Kyouya smiled. The Host King managed to be unknowingly attractive, even in such a state.
“Tamaki,” Kyouya said. “The much-disputed contract between much-too-small-strawberry-briefs-wearing Sato Tomi-kun's father and the Ohtori Company is worth over five hundred million yen.” Putting his pen and notebook aside, Kyouya regarded Tamaki thoughtfully. “Do you have five hundred million yen at your disposal?”
“Five hundred million...”
“That's right. Five hundred million is the minimum negotiation starting point.”
“Kyouya! You know I don't have five hundred million yen! There's no way my grandmother would loan me that amount! She'd kill me if I asked her! Oh, Kyouya, how can I get that much money?” Tamaki wailed and thrashed about on the floor near Kyouya's feet.
“Of course, since we are good friends, Tamaki, I'd be willing to accept payments over a designated period of time. With interest, of course.” Kyouya glanced down at Tamaki, who looked like he might burst into fresh tears any minute.
“Wait! Maybe we could have a bake sale? Or a car wash? I'm sure I could persuade the lovely ladies to support a shirtless Host Club car wash …” Straightening, Tamaki became confident and collected as he brainstormed.
“No. This is your debt, not the Host Club's. To me.”
“But Kyouya! How can I repay that much? I don't wanna be poor like Haruhi!” Tamaki turned his shining eyes on Kyouya and grasped Kyouya's knees. “Oh! But this would be a Father-Daughter bonding experience for us! Me becoming a commoner for the remainder of my debt!”
Kyouya raised his eyebrows as he considered this. Visions of Tamaki flitting about a convenience store and chasing Haruhi around with commoner items such as mass-produced underwear and waterproof socks made the corners of his mouth turn up involuntarily in a smile.
Tamaki deflated and he exclaimed, “What am I thinking? I can't be a commoner, and Mother would bleed me dry for years!”
Kyouya fought the urge to object to the slight to his own character, but decided that it was, after all, probably true.
Leveling his gaze at Tamaki, Kyouya said, “I am also willing to accept … alternative forms of payment.”
“Oh?” Tamaki's head tilted to the side and his face was the picture of puzzlement.
Bringing Tamaki's hand to his face, Kyouya looked Tamaki straight in the eye. “Yes.” He took Tamaki's index finger into his mouth, and sucked.
Purple eyes grew huge as Kyouya circled his tongue around the finger currently residing in his mouth. Releasing it, Kyouya smiled knowingly at the dumbstruck Tamaki and placed his hand back where it had rested on Kyouya's thigh. Tamaki gaped at Kyouya for a few moments and made a choking sound, while Kyouya waited patiently.
After turning pink, then red, then ghostly white and returning to pink, Tamaki said, “You know, Kyouya, asking me to do something like that to pay you back is pretty low.”
“On the contrary Tamaki, receiving sexual favors as a form of payment or reparation is quite common in the business world. I am simply engaging in a behavior that will be expected of me in my future business career.”
“You're evil, Kyouya.”
Kyouya smiled. “You owe me, Tamaki.”
Tamaki opened his mouth to protest, but shut it without a sound. Kyouya suspected that he may have been gloating. He didn't care. He adjusted his glasses and loosened his tie. Shifting, he parted his legs wider.
“I … uh, well … okay, fine. If that's what you want, and it will help my debt to Mother ...” Tamaki stammered.
Tamaki undid Kyouya's belt with steady hands. He grumbled to himself, muttering about the cruelty of carrots and strawberries and mothers. Kyouya lifted his hips and allowed Tamaki to push his pants down enough to expose his slowly-hardening erection. Pulling it through Kyouya's sensible, plain boxer shorts, Tamaki lightly stroked the length of Kyouya's cock. Kyouya tensed at the contact, and felt himself shiver as Tamaki closed his fist around the base.
Tamaki wet his lips and Kyouya tensed. Tamaki's pink tongue darted out and just barely grazed the sensitive ridge in between the head and shaft of Kyouya's cock.
“Come now, Tamaki. This isn't your first time giving a blowjob. Nor is it your first time giving me one. Get on with it.” Kyouya's voice remained steady, but his hands were curled into tight fists as Tamaki lightly licked him.
Pulling back, Tamaki looked at Kyouya's flushed penis before answering. “No, but it's the first time I've ever had five hundred million yen riding on it.”
Kyouya was poised to retort, but gasped instead when Tamaki took him in his mouth. Tamaki held Kyouya inside and his lips were still. Kyouya breathed heavily, overwhelmed with the feeling of Tamaki's warm, wet mouth around him.
Kyouya had finally gained some measure of control and had felt his heartbeat beginning to slow when Tamaki moved his tongue. Without moving his lips, Tamaki slid his tongue around the upper part of Kyouya's shaft, just teasing at the head. Kyouya focused on the head in his lap, tendrils of blond hair falling down over Tamaki's eyes, which were closed in concentration.
As he watched, Tamaki withdrew his mouth achingly slowly, his tongue lingering at the head of Kyouya's cock. Looking him straight in the eye, Tamaki said, “Is this the sort of payment you had in mind, Kyouya?”
Longing for a snappy retort but short on oxygen to his brain, Kyouya settled for what he hoped was a malicious glare. Tamaki smiled cheerily, his flushed face mere inches from Kyouya's erection. Precome had started to gather at the tip, and he had to strain to keep from thrusting his hips into Tamaki's hand like the teenager he tried so hard not to be.
Tamaki's tongue darted out and captured the bead of moisture still clinging to the head of Kyouya's cock. He gave Kyouya a smile and then swallowed his cock, taking in as much as his ever-popular mouth would allow.
Tamaki pulled back and lingered at the head before starting a steady rhythm moving up and down the shaft. Blond hair spilled out onto Kyouya's spotless uniform trousers, and Kyouya watched the strands as they shifted with every movement of Tamaki's head. He reached out and took a handful, letting it sift through his fingers. It fell out of his reach as Tamaki twisted his mouth around the upper part of Kyouya's penis, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin.
Kyouya couldn't hold back a gasp, and he thought he felt Tamaki's lips twitch around him. But then he moved his tongue again, and Kyouya was lost. He let out a breathy moan, and Tamaki responded by tightening his hold on the base of Kyouya's cock and increasing the suction around the head. Kyouya came with a rush, and he gasped what may have been Tamaki's name.
Tamaki made a face as he swallowed Kyouya's come, but then gently lapped at his cock as the last drops spilled out. He wiped his chin ungracefully with his uniform sleeve and looked up at Kyouya. His lips were red and puffy, and his face was flushed.
“Well, Kyouya?” Tamaki practically purred. “How was that for payment?”
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and tucked himself gently back into his pants. He picked up his discarded notebook and smiled at the King kneeling before him. “Very nice. Thank you, Tamaki,” he said in a level voice.
The talented Host Club King beamed at the compliment, and stood up. He put his hands at his hips and declared, “Well of course it was! I am the King, after all.”
Kyouya stood to join him and opened his notebook. “Indeed. Now, I'd estimate that covered a good million yen of your debt. I'll pencil you in for next Thursday after the Host Club Annual Budget Meeting, and we can take care of another million. Perhaps more, if time allows.” Kyouya made a note on his schedule, then snapped the book shut. He placed his pen neatly back in its holder and straightened his tie. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have another appointment.”
Kyouya placed a kiss on Tamaki's lips and ignored the startled look that was frozen on the King's face. “It was truly a pleasure doing business with you, Tamaki.”
Author: brainfuneral
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Rating: R
Summary: Tamaki's gaffe becomes Kyouya's gain.
Warning: Not safe for work!
Notes: Written for sharpeslass, who requested something with a hot and bothered Kyouya. Of course, this was ages ago, as I am a very very very slow writer. Hopefully it'll come as somewhat of a surprise since it's been so long! Many many thanks to jedishampoo for her beta skillz of doom!
Tamaki dragged his feet as he entered the third Music Room and headed straight for his usual sulking corner. Kyouya watched as he crouched down in the darkest part of the usually bright room and began drawing circles on the floor with his finger.
Taking a seat on the plush couch in the center of the room, Kyouya brought out his notebook and scribbled down several figures. Tamaki was silent in his self-imposed isolation. Kyouya made a noncommittal noise after arriving at his calculated financial loss.
“Tamaki.”
No response.
Kyouya cleared his throat. “Tamaki.”
Tamaki finally turned to face the rest of the expansive and empty Music Room. He wrapped his arms around his knees and said in a small voice, “I'm sorry, Kyouya. That didn't go as I'd planned it.”
“I would certainly hope not. You spilled incredibly hot coffee on the lap of an incredibly rich guest.”
“It was an accident! The twins were making obscene gestures and...”
Kyouya continued. “And then you forcibly took off his trousers in front of his fiancée, exposing his rather feminine choice in undergarments.”
“I was trying to dry off his uniform! I didn't know he would have strawberries on his...”
“After this, you forced him to eat a piece of cake, all the while pants-less and in full view of the entire Ouran Host Club Annual Brunch crowd. His throat closed up and he gagged on the cake, requiring the school paramedics to become involved.”
“I thought something sweet would make him feel better! How was I supposed to know he was allergic to carrots! Why did we even have carrot cake if one of our guests was allergic?!”
“Tamaki.” Kyouya said. The King had unwrapped himself and was writhing in agony on the carpet.
Tamaki ignored Kyouya and remained on the floor, twitching and murmuring to himself. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to! It was an accident! Wouldn't Haruhi look cute in strawberry underpants? Oh god, why me? I hope he wasn't too mad and didn't mean those things he said about the Host Club as the paramedics were taking him away!” Tamaki paused in his tirade and gulped for air.
“Tamaki, come here,” Kyouya ordered, raising his voice over Tamaki's stream of words.
Dragging himself to his feet, Tamaki wandered listlessly to where Kyouya sat. He dropped down on the floor next to Kyouya and looked up. Kyouya smiled pleasantly and folded his hands in his lap.
“I'll make it up to you somehow, Kyouya,” Tamaki exclaimed, becoming enthusiastic in a heartbeat. “I'm sure that strawberry-underpants guy won't hold a grudge against anybody, but even if he does, I'll make it up to Mother for ruining the event.”
Kyouya's smile widened. “Actually, I went to see young strawberry-briefs as he was being taken to his family's private hospital. His exact words were, 'this is all your fault, Ohtori, I thought you had more sense than that idiot Suoh! I'll see that I and my family never deal with you or your awful Host Club ever again!'”
A palpable gloom fell over the Host Club King. He said, “I'm sorry Kyouya. Well, I'll have to find some way to make it up to you, then.”
“Indeed.”
Tamaki sniffed. “Let's see...how can I make up with Mother?” He nibbled at his bottom lip with his teeth while he thought.
“Oh! Kyouya,” Tamaki said, eyes shining as he pleaded. “Don't make me wash your car again, please! Your sister sat on the lawn and laughed at me last time.”
Heaving a sigh, Kyouya said, “I wouldn't have you do that again, Tamaki.”
“Oh thank you, Kyouya!” Throwing his arms around Kyouya's knees, Tamaki rubbed his blond head against the starched fabric of Kyouya's uniform pants. “Mother is so merciful and kind after all!”
Kyouya cleared his throat. Tamaki looked up at him, eyes huge and teary. “I wouldn't have you do that again.” Kyouya adjusted his glasses, sending the glare strategically into Tamaki's eyes. “You did a terrible job last time. I had to have the driver redo your work, and had the entire car repainted because you scratched it taking off the horribly uneven coat of wax.”
Tamaki's bottom lip started quivering, and the tears in his eyes spilled over onto his cheeks. After a moment of silence, he broke out into a wail and again rubbed his head against Kyouya's leg. “I'm so sorry, Mother! Father didn't mean to scratch your car or dump coffee on carrot-allergy-strawberry-pants!”
Kyouya's pant-leg became damp from Tamaki's dramatic tears, and he made a note in his ever-present book to charge Tamaki for dry-cleaning them. “Tamaki.”
Continuing to sob and hug Kyouya's knees, Tamaki mumbled unintelligibly.
“Tamaki,” Kyouya said, keeping his voice at the same volume, but carrying with it that hint of polite Ohtori authority that chilled even the bravest men to the bone.
Sniffling, Tamaki wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and looked at Kyouya reluctantly. He blinked, his large purple eyes shining in the diffused Music Room light. His hair was disheveled, poking out in random directions, and the crying fit had given a sincere pink glow to his cheeks. Kyouya smiled. The Host King managed to be unknowingly attractive, even in such a state.
“Tamaki,” Kyouya said. “The much-disputed contract between much-too-small-strawberry-briefs-wearing Sato Tomi-kun's father and the Ohtori Company is worth over five hundred million yen.” Putting his pen and notebook aside, Kyouya regarded Tamaki thoughtfully. “Do you have five hundred million yen at your disposal?”
“Five hundred million...”
“That's right. Five hundred million is the minimum negotiation starting point.”
“Kyouya! You know I don't have five hundred million yen! There's no way my grandmother would loan me that amount! She'd kill me if I asked her! Oh, Kyouya, how can I get that much money?” Tamaki wailed and thrashed about on the floor near Kyouya's feet.
“Of course, since we are good friends, Tamaki, I'd be willing to accept payments over a designated period of time. With interest, of course.” Kyouya glanced down at Tamaki, who looked like he might burst into fresh tears any minute.
“Wait! Maybe we could have a bake sale? Or a car wash? I'm sure I could persuade the lovely ladies to support a shirtless Host Club car wash …” Straightening, Tamaki became confident and collected as he brainstormed.
“No. This is your debt, not the Host Club's. To me.”
“But Kyouya! How can I repay that much? I don't wanna be poor like Haruhi!” Tamaki turned his shining eyes on Kyouya and grasped Kyouya's knees. “Oh! But this would be a Father-Daughter bonding experience for us! Me becoming a commoner for the remainder of my debt!”
Kyouya raised his eyebrows as he considered this. Visions of Tamaki flitting about a convenience store and chasing Haruhi around with commoner items such as mass-produced underwear and waterproof socks made the corners of his mouth turn up involuntarily in a smile.
Tamaki deflated and he exclaimed, “What am I thinking? I can't be a commoner, and Mother would bleed me dry for years!”
Kyouya fought the urge to object to the slight to his own character, but decided that it was, after all, probably true.
Leveling his gaze at Tamaki, Kyouya said, “I am also willing to accept … alternative forms of payment.”
“Oh?” Tamaki's head tilted to the side and his face was the picture of puzzlement.
Bringing Tamaki's hand to his face, Kyouya looked Tamaki straight in the eye. “Yes.” He took Tamaki's index finger into his mouth, and sucked.
Purple eyes grew huge as Kyouya circled his tongue around the finger currently residing in his mouth. Releasing it, Kyouya smiled knowingly at the dumbstruck Tamaki and placed his hand back where it had rested on Kyouya's thigh. Tamaki gaped at Kyouya for a few moments and made a choking sound, while Kyouya waited patiently.
After turning pink, then red, then ghostly white and returning to pink, Tamaki said, “You know, Kyouya, asking me to do something like that to pay you back is pretty low.”
“On the contrary Tamaki, receiving sexual favors as a form of payment or reparation is quite common in the business world. I am simply engaging in a behavior that will be expected of me in my future business career.”
“You're evil, Kyouya.”
Kyouya smiled. “You owe me, Tamaki.”
Tamaki opened his mouth to protest, but shut it without a sound. Kyouya suspected that he may have been gloating. He didn't care. He adjusted his glasses and loosened his tie. Shifting, he parted his legs wider.
“I … uh, well … okay, fine. If that's what you want, and it will help my debt to Mother ...” Tamaki stammered.
Tamaki undid Kyouya's belt with steady hands. He grumbled to himself, muttering about the cruelty of carrots and strawberries and mothers. Kyouya lifted his hips and allowed Tamaki to push his pants down enough to expose his slowly-hardening erection. Pulling it through Kyouya's sensible, plain boxer shorts, Tamaki lightly stroked the length of Kyouya's cock. Kyouya tensed at the contact, and felt himself shiver as Tamaki closed his fist around the base.
Tamaki wet his lips and Kyouya tensed. Tamaki's pink tongue darted out and just barely grazed the sensitive ridge in between the head and shaft of Kyouya's cock.
“Come now, Tamaki. This isn't your first time giving a blowjob. Nor is it your first time giving me one. Get on with it.” Kyouya's voice remained steady, but his hands were curled into tight fists as Tamaki lightly licked him.
Pulling back, Tamaki looked at Kyouya's flushed penis before answering. “No, but it's the first time I've ever had five hundred million yen riding on it.”
Kyouya was poised to retort, but gasped instead when Tamaki took him in his mouth. Tamaki held Kyouya inside and his lips were still. Kyouya breathed heavily, overwhelmed with the feeling of Tamaki's warm, wet mouth around him.
Kyouya had finally gained some measure of control and had felt his heartbeat beginning to slow when Tamaki moved his tongue. Without moving his lips, Tamaki slid his tongue around the upper part of Kyouya's shaft, just teasing at the head. Kyouya focused on the head in his lap, tendrils of blond hair falling down over Tamaki's eyes, which were closed in concentration.
As he watched, Tamaki withdrew his mouth achingly slowly, his tongue lingering at the head of Kyouya's cock. Looking him straight in the eye, Tamaki said, “Is this the sort of payment you had in mind, Kyouya?”
Longing for a snappy retort but short on oxygen to his brain, Kyouya settled for what he hoped was a malicious glare. Tamaki smiled cheerily, his flushed face mere inches from Kyouya's erection. Precome had started to gather at the tip, and he had to strain to keep from thrusting his hips into Tamaki's hand like the teenager he tried so hard not to be.
Tamaki's tongue darted out and captured the bead of moisture still clinging to the head of Kyouya's cock. He gave Kyouya a smile and then swallowed his cock, taking in as much as his ever-popular mouth would allow.
Tamaki pulled back and lingered at the head before starting a steady rhythm moving up and down the shaft. Blond hair spilled out onto Kyouya's spotless uniform trousers, and Kyouya watched the strands as they shifted with every movement of Tamaki's head. He reached out and took a handful, letting it sift through his fingers. It fell out of his reach as Tamaki twisted his mouth around the upper part of Kyouya's penis, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin.
Kyouya couldn't hold back a gasp, and he thought he felt Tamaki's lips twitch around him. But then he moved his tongue again, and Kyouya was lost. He let out a breathy moan, and Tamaki responded by tightening his hold on the base of Kyouya's cock and increasing the suction around the head. Kyouya came with a rush, and he gasped what may have been Tamaki's name.
Tamaki made a face as he swallowed Kyouya's come, but then gently lapped at his cock as the last drops spilled out. He wiped his chin ungracefully with his uniform sleeve and looked up at Kyouya. His lips were red and puffy, and his face was flushed.
“Well, Kyouya?” Tamaki practically purred. “How was that for payment?”
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and tucked himself gently back into his pants. He picked up his discarded notebook and smiled at the King kneeling before him. “Very nice. Thank you, Tamaki,” he said in a level voice.
The talented Host Club King beamed at the compliment, and stood up. He put his hands at his hips and declared, “Well of course it was! I am the King, after all.”
Kyouya stood to join him and opened his notebook. “Indeed. Now, I'd estimate that covered a good million yen of your debt. I'll pencil you in for next Thursday after the Host Club Annual Budget Meeting, and we can take care of another million. Perhaps more, if time allows.” Kyouya made a note on his schedule, then snapped the book shut. He placed his pen neatly back in its holder and straightened his tie. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have another appointment.”
Kyouya placed a kiss on Tamaki's lips and ignored the startled look that was frozen on the King's face. “It was truly a pleasure doing business with you, Tamaki.”