Isn't it perfect? [closed, ongoing]
Characters: Suoh Tamaki, Ootori Kyouya, Eclair Tonnere
Content: Tamaki shows off an apartment to his friends, in hope of it being per~fect.
Location: Apartment... I'll pick out an exact spot for it soon.
Time of day: Noon-ish.
Warnings: Subtle tension and prettyboys? Nothing much.
( Read more... )
Content: Tamaki shows off an apartment to his friends, in hope of it being per~fect.
Location: Apartment... I'll pick out an exact spot for it soon.
Time of day: Noon-ish.
Warnings: Subtle tension and prettyboys? Nothing much.
( Read more... )
He hadn't been asleep, but rather teetering on the border of slumber and consciousness. It was a pleasant spot to find himself in where everything had been fuzzed, dulled to the senses, making the sharper world he'd found himself in exposing softer edges. Kyouya had sat there relishing in the warmth of the sun, pushing his toes down and stretching like a satiated cat, until jolted fully awake by Tamaki's exclamation.
Sudden, loud, bursts of noise had not been something he needed when he was always on alert incase something did happen. He could have sworn his heart had frozen in his chest for a second before his mind managed to file bonjour into 'Tamaki,' rather then 'Danger,' and then the sub folder 'Obnoxious French Greeting.'
"What is wrong with you?" The words had come more as a low growl than actual speech, rumbling in Kyouya's chest as he turned over beneath the layers of fabric he'd managed to tangle himself up in during the night.
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The greeting if anything had nearly sent her scrambling from the counter top, but there would only be the back of the store, which she avoided as if a leper had been perches in the back corner, resting rotting, bandaged limbs on the box still yet to be set upright. So, instead she dropped her newspaper to the glass counter, settling for jumping down from it with a bit more fever than she would normally display, passing it off as joy in seeing the Suoh boy.
"Ah, Bonjour Tamaki." A smile pressed into painted lips as she continued; Yes, what a beautiful day it is. I'm already awake what do you mean? Fix your sleeve the cuff seems to have rolled, all in soft, elegant french, as she fussed.
It had been an easy to slip back into a comfortable state after the sudden shock. The newspaper she's haphazardly discarded slid from its holdings and it the floor with a soft rustle that set the hairs on her neck on end, but left Eclair unchanged in mood and stature otherwise. Thankfully, Kyouya's grumbling had drawn attention elsewhere than the sudden charge in her blood.
"It's nearly noon Ootori-kun, you shouldn't be sleeping the day away."
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"Of course, thank you," he said to Eclair, after a pause. He immediately took to checking his sleeves to figure out which one it was he needed to sort out. Once he found it, he took care of it, long fingers working easily.
"Mademoiselle Tonnere is correct, my friend! Though I must add that nothing could possibly be wrong with me on a great day like this."
Striding over to his friends side, Tamaki leaned down to poke at his shoulders. It was nothing like he'd awoken Eclair the first day, far nearer to a nag than a soft waking. "Ky-yo-ya, we're going out to the apartment today. You really should be ready.
"Plus," he added in a lower tone, cupping his hand around the side of his mouth, and said with a mock whisper that Eclair wasn't supposed to hear, but Tamaki wasn't close enough to conceal it fully. "You really shouldn't sleep in when there's a lady having to entertain herself." This was coming from the person that could go to bed at midnight and wake up at sunrise (though he would tell you that isn't enough beauty sleep) with enough energy and life to not take a single break in the day.
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Kyouya had slowly begun to wonder if he would ever be allowed enough sleep to finally overcome his jet lag. He was often stirred from sleep by sounds drifting to his dreams from the street of the concrete world locked away, dormant dreams in its place, or the sound of Eclair's breath when she'd slept through a particularly rough fit.
He'd been amazed at how much she could move and yet still stay asleep. Once, he'd smelt strawberry shampoo hidden beneath time and city grime, only to find when he opened his eyes she'd managed to toss her way to him. Something in him wanted to wake her as vengeance for her seemingly amazing ability to adapt her sleep cycle.
That night she'd slept with the brown fur of Kyouya's fabric about her shoulders and a scowling host member at her side.
Paled fingers pushed the hand from Tamaki's cheek, nothing angry, but more of the slowed, sedated movements. "This isn't the Host Club, Tamaki." He hated how hard his voice had sounded, but felt his voice freeze when he'd thought of a way to follow that up with something to fix his mistake.
It hadn't come to him.
After a pause he'd spoken again. "There are more important issues at hand if I'm not sleeping well I'll be more susceptible to colds, it's fall after all, and if I get sick the two of you might get sick. We don't need that."
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"For all of us to have colds would be most unfortunate. Re-situating ourselves while the sun is still out is best though. I'm sure Tamaki and I will not have qualms with allowing you to sleep in after we've been situated?" She turned to the boy in mention for confirmation. In this situation Kyouya would have his sleep and the two of them would be able in indulge in the language Tamaki had found himself slipping into, only to fall back out.
Perhaps catch up.
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Even if he was still [angry] in disbelief that they'd risked their lives coming here, clinging to the hope that he might be alive.
He might have been, but with the dangers out there, maybe they wouldn't have been. From what he saw the night of the attack, the monster didn't like anything flying above. Tamaki was glad they got in safely. If he scolded them for putting themselves at such a risk, he never did it openly, or with anything but his apologies.
Tamaki didn't like thinking about the what-if's of their arrival. They were here, with him. That was what mattered.
The pushed hand didn't deter him from his nagging, but the comment had. "Oh." He forced his saddened expression and slumping shoulders away as soon as it had come to surface, "Don't be silly, Kyouya. My immune system has always been great. You know that.
"But Miss Eclair is certainly correct. We should go over, and if you both like it there, then we should start to move things over while it's still light out. Or you could nap - I put new sheets on the beds - and I can move things while Miss Eclair gets herself situated." He wouldn't expect her to be doing any of the work in moving them in.
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He'd tip-toed around conversation since he'd watched the Ootori private helicopter get smacked from the sky above central park by whatever sort of arm, leg, a tail maybe? that had whipped through the air like a streak of solid gray lighting in a cloudless sky. (Hotta had been lost as well as Tachibana, he hadn't known the pilot on a personal level, but it still made his knuckles white at the memory.) Now, Kyouya found his percautions had been brought to naught by a quick, thoughtless, reminder.
"Who's to say that hasn't changed?" As he spoke Kyouya had already worked on getting to his feet, his blanket slipping from his shoulders and pooling at his feet in rolls of synthetic fur. "We better hurry in that case the sun goes down around Six-thirty. I'll help with the moving, no sense in sending you out by yourself."
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Tamaki had verified them however. Crabs as he'd said and she was sure now that Kyouya could have an idea as to why she'd been so reluctant to pass it off as anything more than rats when the creature scrambled at the back of the store whilst he'd slept. Why she often woke beneath the dead weight of an arm that was not hers (Most likely positioned in sleep for Kyouya had always made to sure to keep a breath between her and himself) on any given morning.
She smiled now however as Tamaki gave the affirmative, nodding if only slightly before turning her attention to the street just beyond dirt streaked windows. While the idea that grime had created a film over once translucent glass was revolting, the soft, textured glow it gave to the usually dimmed city surroundings was pleasant.
"I think we should get moving. I can't help, but feel questioning things as trivial as immunity will get us nowhere, but closer to dusk."
Their fussing had become tiresome, had she wanted to see two boys bicker like a married couple rather than progress to any extent, she'd have to declare herself ill in the head if not ill of the body at that very moment.
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It wasn't like they had a strong ongoing rivalry, like some might - or at least he thought so - but Tamaki still liked to be right. Princes weren't often wrong, after all. Kyouya also liking to be right (and being so far more often than Tamaki himself) just left them to find either a middle ground or some challenges in which one of them would have to be the victor.
Tamaki's grin was the one of a fool, reminiscent of when he felt he won the argument between Namahage and Shiisa.
Hopping to his feet, he brushed himself off and strode over to her, "Is there anything you'd like me to carry for you?"
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Kyouya regarded the grin with frustration. He had a decent point and while he expected this sort of behavior of Tamaki, it was still a grind on his nerves.He very rarely won any arguments of this sort. Logic it seemed wasn't one to prevail in the world of Tamaki where 'because' was often a perfectly acceptable ending to any argument. There was no way for him to know if had changed or not, but Eclair had a point and to sit about and argue otherwise was just a waste of breath and time.
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"We don't have much here. I'm sure we could find the same amount if not more of what we have now on the move over, but thank you Tamaki."
She offered a smile before making her way over to the previously mentioned jacket, frowning at the creases that had taken grounds along the once smooth fabric after being compacted by the weight of her head in sleep. Eclair had been terribly anxious to make leave of the small electronic shop and thus was ready and willing to have it done sooner rather than later.
A turn and she was once again facing the two boys in her company.
"Shall we head out then, if there's nothing more to attend to?"
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Tamaki held the door open for the both of them, and practically skipped out onto the street, the whole way there. The weather's so nice today, he kept singsonging in french. It's a good day, a great day.
The thought of them being roomates had him bouncing about the whole way there. He was so used to walking that he didn't ever pay much mind to the distance they traveled, and tried to keep Kyouya and Eclair entertained so that they, too, wouldn't give it much mind.
It was more comfortable that way, like when a movie was played during a flight, or when he played the Find The Ninja On The Street game while in a car. He was certain he'd once spotted one, but it was a while back and Tamaki couldn't remember fully. He liked to think he had.
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Their eyes would meet. She'd stand unchanged. Kyouya's smile would falter.
Walking hadn't been a problem and if anything it was refreshing leaving the store with company this time, rather than his lonesome outings. Most of which he found were spent cutting circles through the same four blocks as he thought in the same pattern his feet tread. Circles, circles ,circles. Circles that had spun over and over again since he'd landed in this mess, but now, finally, that pattern had been broken and they were moving forward.
It was about time.
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Her legs ached, but in a thankful way. They'd needed a good stretch and at this rate Eclair found she had enough pent up energy to walk the length of the city had it been necessary . Tamaki's energy was contagious, as was his good mood, and she found a smile that needn't be forced on the shelf of her lips. The muscles there ached in thanks as well.
Kyouya met her eyes every not and again, but she wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of getting a rise from her, Thus she would remain still with the same curl of her lips present as it had been before the two turned their attention to one another.
When the Ootori took his eyes from her she hadn't felt the usual satisfaction. Perhaps, this wasn't the time for their usual, petty, games.
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Tamaki threw his arm up, and swung it around (an action he was often seen doing in the Host Club, because it seemed like the flourish had a princely touch to it) to motion to the building.
For all he'd had to say about the place, it wasn't much to go by from the outside. The same was true for any given place in Manhattan. It was as if the survivors were too afraid to remodel places, dare they be destroyed or the parasites somehow grow enough brains to recognize that meant people lived there.
"What do you think? Ah! But I suppose I really shouldn't ask that until we've gone in!"
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"Yes," he breathed. "I'm sure seeing the inside would help..."
He'd missed Tamaki, but it was at times like these that he wondered if he'd been right in the head for feeling so. Kyouya lifted his chin, looking up to the cumulus scraping across the sky over head. It seemed odd, incomprehensible really, that after something like this- after a good number of people died, homes were destroyed, that weather like this could come to pass. The cold and the clouds fit. Hiding in a filthy store fit, but this moving expedition along with the blue sky felt like pushing a round peg into a square hole.
Possible, but didn't fit.
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