Fic: Fairy Tale Princess
Title: Fairy Tale Princess
Author: fairymage
Rating: R
Fandom: Ouran Koukou Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Notes: Written for dolens_torpeo's request "Kyouya in a maid's outfit."
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a noble and beautiful prince. He was kind, and innocent, and lived peacefully in the palace and amongst his people. Everyone loved his sweet, playful nature (even if he was a bit flighty sometimes). However, he was an illegitimate child-but at the same time, the only child of the king. Grudgingly, he was given a place in the palace, but forced to prove his worth as a ruler.
And a ruler was not what he was destined to be. He was at heart a dreamer. He could never make the executive decisions necessary to be a firm ruler; he was too easily swayed by his heart and those of the people he served. In some ways, this made him the perfect candidate for kingship, but he had not the backbone to tax people, and so it would have made him completely ineffective as a ruler as well.
The king decided that what his son needed was a wife who would act as his harsher counterpart, a more practical and worldly princess or lady who would keep the effervescent prince in check. And so he sent out a call for all women with any practical bearing, women who understood not necessarily politics, but at the very least how to run a household, who could keep a firm hand and a straight head, to come to the palace to meet his son.
On the other side of the kingdom lived a lord with too many sons-three. While only the first son could legally inherit the land, the second son was well positioned to marry another influential family with only a daughter. He’d shown the same kind of aptitude as his elder brother, and would gladly support his family with his new acquisitions. And then there was the third son, who had nothing and no prospects. It was assumed that he would stay behind on his family’s land to help run it under his brother.
But that was not what the youngest son wanted. He was too strong, too smart, too independent. He aspired not just to run his family’s holdings, but if he could, he’d get even higher than that. Ally himself with better families with better positions in the royal court. And he knew that as long as he stayed with his family, his greater goals would never be reached.
What better way to do so than to visit the royal court itself, he thought. So he packed his bags, prepared his horse, and snuck away in the middle of the night to make for the royal city and palace. However, he realized that no one would take him seriously if they knew he was only the third son of a lord who could never amount to anything valuable. In addition, he knew that you could certainly hold people with good nature, but knowing their secrets trapped them in your grasp forever, provided you could elude their attempts at assassination. And he was certainly smart enough for that.
Thus, he made special preparations, packing carefully…
-----
“Prince Tamaki, your new maid is here,” the older woman murmured, bowing respectfully. The young, pretty girl beside her bowed too. She was dressed quite fetchingly, in a long, knee-length dress with a stiff petticoat beneath, white lace apron over it. The wide skirt disguised the lack of a feminine shape, but the white cloth peeking out beneath was intended to tempt. Likewise the bodice was loose to hide on women a small bust, but on the current wearer a flat, smooth chest. The sleeves were long, the shoulders puffed, and the little lace cap set just slightly suggestively askew. But had anyone asked, the prince would have said that he was more impressed with the lack of shyness that usually accompanied new maids than any physical aspect of the new girl.
“Thank you, Mary, you can leave her here. I promise I won’t do anything to her.” He sealed his promise with a kiss to the hand and a winning smile, and Mary blushed and hurried out.
Kyouya watched the exchange with some interest. He’d never expected something this good. A position with one of the lesser lords, a slow climbing of the ranks until he found something that put a high-powered lord in his control… but this, this was almost too good. The prince’s personal maid? Here, he was in a position to know everything!
“And what is your name?” The prince was suddenly in his face, voice low and sultry, not wide-eyed with childish innocence, as Kyouya had heard, but quite breathtakingly beautiful instead.
“Kiyoko,” he responded, blushing appropriately and curtseying.
“Kiyoko,” the prince repeated softly, reaching out to take Kyouya’s hand, stroking it gently. “Ne, Kiyoko, may I ask a favor of you?”
“Yes, your highness?” he murmured, looking away, playing the prince’s game. He’d be damned if he were beat by a fool!
“Will you be my friend?” The prince’s entire demeanor changed; he was like a puppy begging for a master. His blue eyes were wide and pleading, his smile hopeful, and Kyouya could practically see the sparkles flashing behind him.
Kyouya blinked rapidly. What? What was this? “I…”
“I mean, there are so many things I want to do, but no one will let me do them, or at least they won’t do them with me, so it’s really no fun at all, and if I could just have someone who would do them with me, I think it would be ever so much fun-“
“Of course, your highness.”
“You will?” Tamaki’s face lit up with joy. “YAY!” He attacked Kyouya with a hug, much to the boy’s surprise, rubbing his face against his shoulder, arms clasped firmly around his… chest…
But Tamaki didn’t seem to notice his maid’s lack of breasts, more interested in the fact that he finally had a playmate. Clasping Kyouya’s hand, he dragged him off, singing a nonsense song about friendship and happy sunny days. Kyouya stumbled after, the full implications of being the prince’s maid finally sinking in.
He would never find out anything.
-----
Tamaki was demanding, but not in a whiny, spoiled way. Kyouya had the distinct sense that no one had ever indulged the prince in any way, and that he was simply curious about everything and anything. Kyouya himself didn’t know everything, but he knew more than the prince, and gladly walked him through every outing, carefully planning it, rationing their money so that Tamaki always had a little souvenir of their trips.
There was no malice behind the prince, and even when Kyouya wanted to rant and throw things at the blond, he found that the most he could do was get angry and then want to make everything better. He was sorely disappointed when special trips he planned had to be cancelled, either by royal interruption or simply by Tamaki’s own stupidity. Certainly he wasn’t learning anything of court gossip this way, but he’d decided that this was a much more satisfying way of achieving his ends.
After all, who would dare look down on him as a mere third son when he was the prince’s best friend?
And yet somehow, he didn’t think best friend would cut it. There had to be something more. He had to trap and keep the prince for his own, ensuring that Tamaki would always use his power to protect him. Tamaki seemed like the type who would protect him simply because they were best friends, but Kyouya needed to be sure. He just hadn’t yet hit on a good way.
Tamaki was the one who inadvertently caused all the pieces to fall into place.
He was lounging on his sofa as Kyouya sat across from him, setting tea out, after which he planned to dust. But Tamaki was not his usual rambunctious self, and he stared listlessly at the wall. Kyouya let it go as long as he could, but then he got impatient.
“What’s wrong, your highness?”
“Kiyoko, have you ever thought about marriage?”
Kyouya blinked. Well of course. That was what he’d come here for, initially, at least. It had always remained a possibility in his mind that he would marry into one of the upper families. But that wasn’t quite the answer Kiyoko the maid would give. “A little, your highness. Why?”
“Stop calling me ‘your highness,’” Tamaki chided, a little late, and not at all relevant. “I’m sure you know that they’re trying to find me someone to marry.”
“Of course, your-Tamaki. It’s all over the palace. We’ve been putting bets on who will be picked.”
“Really? Who do you like?”
“No one, really.”
“Why not?”
Kyouya shrugged. He was too smart to gamble on the prince, that was why. The simplest reason in the world. “They just don’t seem like your type.”
Tamaki smiled sadly, reaching for a teacup, toying with it in his fingers. “No, they’re not. I always thought I would marry my best friend,” he murmured, staring at the translucent liquid. “But I don’t have any friends. No one but you.” He laughed, a terrible, choked and scratchy sound. “But they won’t let me marry you, will they?”
“No. No, they wouldn’t.”
“How sad. It would make such a good story.” They were silent for a moment, then Tamaki continued. “What do you think of Lady Haruhi?”
Kyouya knew all too well who she was. A simple, direct girl, probably the perfect match for the dramatic and flamboyant prince. She would keep him in check, keep her head grounded and practical, and take care of him at the same time. She might not earn the same love as the prince from the people, but she would certainly fare better in some of the politics.
He tried not to scowl. “She’s a nice lady.” How simple, how foolish that sounded.
“They want me to marry her. They think it’s best.”
Tamaki was still thankfully looking at his tea; Kyouya couldn’t keep his eyes from narrowing or a twitch from developing at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, really? Well-“
“I like her well enough,” Tamaki interrupted. “I just… It’s romantic in its own right…” Damn Tamaki for thinking of romance at a time like this! “You know, love at first sight and all that, or love growing out of an arranged marriage.” Didn’t he realize that while perhaps the two could be friends, they could never be lovers, never be partners in an enterprise? “But really, it’d be so much nicer to marry my best friend.” That no one, no one would indulge him like Kyouya did?
“I wish I could marry you, Kiyoko,” Tamaki finished mournfully.
Kyouya started, stared hard at the wall, eyes wide. Ten minutes ago if he’d suggested he actually find a way to con the prince into marrying him, it would be purely out of personal motivation: it was the closest he could possibly hope to get to the prince. But now his heart was racing and his mind was flying just to keep Tamaki as his. He did not, would not, relinquish his best friend-his only friend-to the whims of politics and a girl who could never be Tamaki’s best friend. No, he was the one who would always take care of Tamaki, and that was that.
He was going to marry the prince.
-----
It was easier than he’d expected to get into Tamaki’s room at night. Perhaps the guards were too used to his presence to really notice that it was late, much later than usual. Perhaps they just assumed that the prince had made special arrangements to have his maid bring him honey and milk in bed. It didn’t really matter. He was here, in the room, Tamaki groggily sitting up and asking who was there, and it was time to put his plan into action.
“Kiyoko?” Tamaki whimpered sleepily. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you some warm milk and honey,” he answered innocently, sitting down on the edge of Tamaki’s bed, close enough to touch him, setting the tray down on the bedside table.
“Oh, thank you!” the prince exclaimed, not even questioning his best friend. Kyouya let him drink down the warm liquid, then as he set his cup down, ran his fingers sensually along Tamaki’s thigh through the blankets.
Tamaki blinked, watching Kyouya’s fingers, fascinated. His face was growing flushed, and Kyouya knew he was having the desired effect. He leaned forward, practically crawling into Tamaki’s lap, pulling aside the blankets to expose the prince’s bare torso and thinly clad legs.
“Kiyo… ko…” Tamaki whimpered, blindly reaching for his blankets to cover himself. Kyouya wasn’t looking at him, focusing his attention on his lower body, knowing that it would have an arousing effect on Tamaki. He pushed the covers farther away and straddled one of Tamaki’s legs, skirt flying up to expose his bare thigh for an instant.
Gently, he reached for the prince’s pants, tugging at them. Tamaki whimpered and pulled away, but Kyouya refused to let him get away, instead gently cupping the growing bulge at Tamaki’s crotch. Tamaki moaned at the contact, realizing too late that he shouldn’t, covering his own mouth with his hand. Kyouya massaged him gently, until Tamaki lay back obediently, allowing him to remove his pants entirely.
Tamaki looked ready, face flushed, eyes clouded with lust, fingers and body trembling, cock nearly fully hard and erect, but Kyouya wanted to be sure that nothing would hold Tamaki back. Sliding a hand into his apron pocket, he withdrew a feather pulled from his feather duster. Twirling it between his fingers, he ran it along the pale inside of Tamaki’s thigh, reveling in the feeling of Tamaki bucking his hips. He was still straddling the prince’s leg, so it provided some degree of satisfaction to his own growing desire.
Then he stroked the flushed cock with it, up one side, down the other, gentle brushes over the tip, watching Tamaki squirm and gasp and twitch at his ministrations, the pale fingers clenching in the sheets, white teeth biting his lower lip until it bled. He was hard, fully hard, but he would need a good deal more stimulation to actually come.
He put the feather back in his pocket, causing Tamaki to sigh at the loss of the barely there touch. Smirking, Kyouya shifted his position, straddling his friend, settling himself directly against Tamaki’s erection. Tamaki’s eyes flew open at the new sensation, then closed again with a sigh as he became adjusted to this new pleasure. Moaning softly he reached for Kyouya’s legs, grabbing his thighs through the silk of his maid’s uniform, gently thrusting his hips.
“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked huskily, leaning down to whisper in Tamaki’s ear.
Tamaki nodded eagerly, bucking his hips in affirmation, twisting his body in desperation beneath Kyouya’s weight.
“You have to be certain, Tamaki. The only way we can cheat them is if we do this.”
“If… I… sleep… with you?” Tamaki gasped, grinding his erection against the smooth flesh against it.
“Yes.”
Tamaki nodded.
Kyouya leaned forward, tipping his hips slightly, pressing his own erection into Tamaki’s stomach.
Tamaki’s eyes widened as it dawned on him what his best friend was saying.
“You’re…” he whispered, blue eyes wide, not confused, just surprised. Foolish boy, not noticing before. He’d hugged Kyouya enough that he should have been able to tell that his maid was not simply small-breasted, but lacking anything there at all.
Gently Kyouya reached for Tamaki’s hands, guiding them away from his thighs to his neck, running Tamaki’s fingers along his small Adam’s apple, planting them firmly against his flat chest, sliding them down to his narrow, unshapely hips, behind him to the smooth, flat backside, then in front, pressing them against the cloth of his skirt so Tamaki could feel the heat pooling there.
Tamaki moaned softly, breaking his fingers away to work at Kyouya on his own, sliding his hands up under the skirt and stroking the firm thighs and flat stomach. His hips were working again, rubbing his throbbing erection against Kyouya, then his fingers slipped downward to fondle his best friend’s cock. Gasping, Kyouya knew then that Tamaki could have cared less that he was male. Either way, he was determined to have him, he just needed Kyouya’s guidance again.
“Just lie there,” he panted, leaning forward over Tamaki’s face. The blond nodded dumbly, chest heaving as he willed his body to lie still. “Let me do everything. When it’s time, your body will respond as I want it-as you want it. Let me teach you,” he whispered, guiding Tamaki’s fingers toward his opening.
Yes, he was the only one who could satisfy Tamaki and all his whims, the only one who could understand his curiosity, the only one who would indulge him continuously-and he would be the only one who could give him pleasure.
“What’s your name?” Tamaki whispered, hesitating for a moment before Kyouya helped him spread himself open.
“Kyouya.”
-----
Fulfilling their plan required just a few more steps, which Kyouya explained to a groggy and sated Tamaki the next morning. They would have to publicly reveal that they had slept together, and provide some kind of proof, if necessary. Kyouya believed that offering to strip, to show the marks and indications of the previous night, should convince people sufficiently. And, he teased, running his fingers through Tamaki’s fine blond hair, they could always put on a public show.
Then Kyouya would have to reveal that he was male, and the third son of the Ootori family. That was necessary only in the name of fairness; everyone deserved to know that the chosen Princess-someday to be Queen-was a man who would never bear an heir. What they would do after that, Kyouya determined, would be worked out between councils, to make everyone feel included, but he was not going to allow Tamaki to father a child with a woman.
And finally, Kyouya would have to provide some kind of proof that he would be an adequate replacement for the women they had previously been considering to wed Tamaki.
“How are you going to do that, Kyou-ya?” Tamaki mumbled, rolling onto his side, hugging his pillow, eyes wide with awe and admiration.
“Easy,” Kyouya replied, adjusting his glasses. “Where are the accounting books?”
Author: fairymage
Rating: R
Fandom: Ouran Koukou Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Notes: Written for dolens_torpeo's request "Kyouya in a maid's outfit."
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a noble and beautiful prince. He was kind, and innocent, and lived peacefully in the palace and amongst his people. Everyone loved his sweet, playful nature (even if he was a bit flighty sometimes). However, he was an illegitimate child-but at the same time, the only child of the king. Grudgingly, he was given a place in the palace, but forced to prove his worth as a ruler.
And a ruler was not what he was destined to be. He was at heart a dreamer. He could never make the executive decisions necessary to be a firm ruler; he was too easily swayed by his heart and those of the people he served. In some ways, this made him the perfect candidate for kingship, but he had not the backbone to tax people, and so it would have made him completely ineffective as a ruler as well.
The king decided that what his son needed was a wife who would act as his harsher counterpart, a more practical and worldly princess or lady who would keep the effervescent prince in check. And so he sent out a call for all women with any practical bearing, women who understood not necessarily politics, but at the very least how to run a household, who could keep a firm hand and a straight head, to come to the palace to meet his son.
On the other side of the kingdom lived a lord with too many sons-three. While only the first son could legally inherit the land, the second son was well positioned to marry another influential family with only a daughter. He’d shown the same kind of aptitude as his elder brother, and would gladly support his family with his new acquisitions. And then there was the third son, who had nothing and no prospects. It was assumed that he would stay behind on his family’s land to help run it under his brother.
But that was not what the youngest son wanted. He was too strong, too smart, too independent. He aspired not just to run his family’s holdings, but if he could, he’d get even higher than that. Ally himself with better families with better positions in the royal court. And he knew that as long as he stayed with his family, his greater goals would never be reached.
What better way to do so than to visit the royal court itself, he thought. So he packed his bags, prepared his horse, and snuck away in the middle of the night to make for the royal city and palace. However, he realized that no one would take him seriously if they knew he was only the third son of a lord who could never amount to anything valuable. In addition, he knew that you could certainly hold people with good nature, but knowing their secrets trapped them in your grasp forever, provided you could elude their attempts at assassination. And he was certainly smart enough for that.
Thus, he made special preparations, packing carefully…
-----
“Prince Tamaki, your new maid is here,” the older woman murmured, bowing respectfully. The young, pretty girl beside her bowed too. She was dressed quite fetchingly, in a long, knee-length dress with a stiff petticoat beneath, white lace apron over it. The wide skirt disguised the lack of a feminine shape, but the white cloth peeking out beneath was intended to tempt. Likewise the bodice was loose to hide on women a small bust, but on the current wearer a flat, smooth chest. The sleeves were long, the shoulders puffed, and the little lace cap set just slightly suggestively askew. But had anyone asked, the prince would have said that he was more impressed with the lack of shyness that usually accompanied new maids than any physical aspect of the new girl.
“Thank you, Mary, you can leave her here. I promise I won’t do anything to her.” He sealed his promise with a kiss to the hand and a winning smile, and Mary blushed and hurried out.
Kyouya watched the exchange with some interest. He’d never expected something this good. A position with one of the lesser lords, a slow climbing of the ranks until he found something that put a high-powered lord in his control… but this, this was almost too good. The prince’s personal maid? Here, he was in a position to know everything!
“And what is your name?” The prince was suddenly in his face, voice low and sultry, not wide-eyed with childish innocence, as Kyouya had heard, but quite breathtakingly beautiful instead.
“Kiyoko,” he responded, blushing appropriately and curtseying.
“Kiyoko,” the prince repeated softly, reaching out to take Kyouya’s hand, stroking it gently. “Ne, Kiyoko, may I ask a favor of you?”
“Yes, your highness?” he murmured, looking away, playing the prince’s game. He’d be damned if he were beat by a fool!
“Will you be my friend?” The prince’s entire demeanor changed; he was like a puppy begging for a master. His blue eyes were wide and pleading, his smile hopeful, and Kyouya could practically see the sparkles flashing behind him.
Kyouya blinked rapidly. What? What was this? “I…”
“I mean, there are so many things I want to do, but no one will let me do them, or at least they won’t do them with me, so it’s really no fun at all, and if I could just have someone who would do them with me, I think it would be ever so much fun-“
“Of course, your highness.”
“You will?” Tamaki’s face lit up with joy. “YAY!” He attacked Kyouya with a hug, much to the boy’s surprise, rubbing his face against his shoulder, arms clasped firmly around his… chest…
But Tamaki didn’t seem to notice his maid’s lack of breasts, more interested in the fact that he finally had a playmate. Clasping Kyouya’s hand, he dragged him off, singing a nonsense song about friendship and happy sunny days. Kyouya stumbled after, the full implications of being the prince’s maid finally sinking in.
He would never find out anything.
-----
Tamaki was demanding, but not in a whiny, spoiled way. Kyouya had the distinct sense that no one had ever indulged the prince in any way, and that he was simply curious about everything and anything. Kyouya himself didn’t know everything, but he knew more than the prince, and gladly walked him through every outing, carefully planning it, rationing their money so that Tamaki always had a little souvenir of their trips.
There was no malice behind the prince, and even when Kyouya wanted to rant and throw things at the blond, he found that the most he could do was get angry and then want to make everything better. He was sorely disappointed when special trips he planned had to be cancelled, either by royal interruption or simply by Tamaki’s own stupidity. Certainly he wasn’t learning anything of court gossip this way, but he’d decided that this was a much more satisfying way of achieving his ends.
After all, who would dare look down on him as a mere third son when he was the prince’s best friend?
And yet somehow, he didn’t think best friend would cut it. There had to be something more. He had to trap and keep the prince for his own, ensuring that Tamaki would always use his power to protect him. Tamaki seemed like the type who would protect him simply because they were best friends, but Kyouya needed to be sure. He just hadn’t yet hit on a good way.
Tamaki was the one who inadvertently caused all the pieces to fall into place.
He was lounging on his sofa as Kyouya sat across from him, setting tea out, after which he planned to dust. But Tamaki was not his usual rambunctious self, and he stared listlessly at the wall. Kyouya let it go as long as he could, but then he got impatient.
“What’s wrong, your highness?”
“Kiyoko, have you ever thought about marriage?”
Kyouya blinked. Well of course. That was what he’d come here for, initially, at least. It had always remained a possibility in his mind that he would marry into one of the upper families. But that wasn’t quite the answer Kiyoko the maid would give. “A little, your highness. Why?”
“Stop calling me ‘your highness,’” Tamaki chided, a little late, and not at all relevant. “I’m sure you know that they’re trying to find me someone to marry.”
“Of course, your-Tamaki. It’s all over the palace. We’ve been putting bets on who will be picked.”
“Really? Who do you like?”
“No one, really.”
“Why not?”
Kyouya shrugged. He was too smart to gamble on the prince, that was why. The simplest reason in the world. “They just don’t seem like your type.”
Tamaki smiled sadly, reaching for a teacup, toying with it in his fingers. “No, they’re not. I always thought I would marry my best friend,” he murmured, staring at the translucent liquid. “But I don’t have any friends. No one but you.” He laughed, a terrible, choked and scratchy sound. “But they won’t let me marry you, will they?”
“No. No, they wouldn’t.”
“How sad. It would make such a good story.” They were silent for a moment, then Tamaki continued. “What do you think of Lady Haruhi?”
Kyouya knew all too well who she was. A simple, direct girl, probably the perfect match for the dramatic and flamboyant prince. She would keep him in check, keep her head grounded and practical, and take care of him at the same time. She might not earn the same love as the prince from the people, but she would certainly fare better in some of the politics.
He tried not to scowl. “She’s a nice lady.” How simple, how foolish that sounded.
“They want me to marry her. They think it’s best.”
Tamaki was still thankfully looking at his tea; Kyouya couldn’t keep his eyes from narrowing or a twitch from developing at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, really? Well-“
“I like her well enough,” Tamaki interrupted. “I just… It’s romantic in its own right…” Damn Tamaki for thinking of romance at a time like this! “You know, love at first sight and all that, or love growing out of an arranged marriage.” Didn’t he realize that while perhaps the two could be friends, they could never be lovers, never be partners in an enterprise? “But really, it’d be so much nicer to marry my best friend.” That no one, no one would indulge him like Kyouya did?
“I wish I could marry you, Kiyoko,” Tamaki finished mournfully.
Kyouya started, stared hard at the wall, eyes wide. Ten minutes ago if he’d suggested he actually find a way to con the prince into marrying him, it would be purely out of personal motivation: it was the closest he could possibly hope to get to the prince. But now his heart was racing and his mind was flying just to keep Tamaki as his. He did not, would not, relinquish his best friend-his only friend-to the whims of politics and a girl who could never be Tamaki’s best friend. No, he was the one who would always take care of Tamaki, and that was that.
He was going to marry the prince.
-----
It was easier than he’d expected to get into Tamaki’s room at night. Perhaps the guards were too used to his presence to really notice that it was late, much later than usual. Perhaps they just assumed that the prince had made special arrangements to have his maid bring him honey and milk in bed. It didn’t really matter. He was here, in the room, Tamaki groggily sitting up and asking who was there, and it was time to put his plan into action.
“Kiyoko?” Tamaki whimpered sleepily. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you some warm milk and honey,” he answered innocently, sitting down on the edge of Tamaki’s bed, close enough to touch him, setting the tray down on the bedside table.
“Oh, thank you!” the prince exclaimed, not even questioning his best friend. Kyouya let him drink down the warm liquid, then as he set his cup down, ran his fingers sensually along Tamaki’s thigh through the blankets.
Tamaki blinked, watching Kyouya’s fingers, fascinated. His face was growing flushed, and Kyouya knew he was having the desired effect. He leaned forward, practically crawling into Tamaki’s lap, pulling aside the blankets to expose the prince’s bare torso and thinly clad legs.
“Kiyo… ko…” Tamaki whimpered, blindly reaching for his blankets to cover himself. Kyouya wasn’t looking at him, focusing his attention on his lower body, knowing that it would have an arousing effect on Tamaki. He pushed the covers farther away and straddled one of Tamaki’s legs, skirt flying up to expose his bare thigh for an instant.
Gently, he reached for the prince’s pants, tugging at them. Tamaki whimpered and pulled away, but Kyouya refused to let him get away, instead gently cupping the growing bulge at Tamaki’s crotch. Tamaki moaned at the contact, realizing too late that he shouldn’t, covering his own mouth with his hand. Kyouya massaged him gently, until Tamaki lay back obediently, allowing him to remove his pants entirely.
Tamaki looked ready, face flushed, eyes clouded with lust, fingers and body trembling, cock nearly fully hard and erect, but Kyouya wanted to be sure that nothing would hold Tamaki back. Sliding a hand into his apron pocket, he withdrew a feather pulled from his feather duster. Twirling it between his fingers, he ran it along the pale inside of Tamaki’s thigh, reveling in the feeling of Tamaki bucking his hips. He was still straddling the prince’s leg, so it provided some degree of satisfaction to his own growing desire.
Then he stroked the flushed cock with it, up one side, down the other, gentle brushes over the tip, watching Tamaki squirm and gasp and twitch at his ministrations, the pale fingers clenching in the sheets, white teeth biting his lower lip until it bled. He was hard, fully hard, but he would need a good deal more stimulation to actually come.
He put the feather back in his pocket, causing Tamaki to sigh at the loss of the barely there touch. Smirking, Kyouya shifted his position, straddling his friend, settling himself directly against Tamaki’s erection. Tamaki’s eyes flew open at the new sensation, then closed again with a sigh as he became adjusted to this new pleasure. Moaning softly he reached for Kyouya’s legs, grabbing his thighs through the silk of his maid’s uniform, gently thrusting his hips.
“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked huskily, leaning down to whisper in Tamaki’s ear.
Tamaki nodded eagerly, bucking his hips in affirmation, twisting his body in desperation beneath Kyouya’s weight.
“You have to be certain, Tamaki. The only way we can cheat them is if we do this.”
“If… I… sleep… with you?” Tamaki gasped, grinding his erection against the smooth flesh against it.
“Yes.”
Tamaki nodded.
Kyouya leaned forward, tipping his hips slightly, pressing his own erection into Tamaki’s stomach.
Tamaki’s eyes widened as it dawned on him what his best friend was saying.
“You’re…” he whispered, blue eyes wide, not confused, just surprised. Foolish boy, not noticing before. He’d hugged Kyouya enough that he should have been able to tell that his maid was not simply small-breasted, but lacking anything there at all.
Gently Kyouya reached for Tamaki’s hands, guiding them away from his thighs to his neck, running Tamaki’s fingers along his small Adam’s apple, planting them firmly against his flat chest, sliding them down to his narrow, unshapely hips, behind him to the smooth, flat backside, then in front, pressing them against the cloth of his skirt so Tamaki could feel the heat pooling there.
Tamaki moaned softly, breaking his fingers away to work at Kyouya on his own, sliding his hands up under the skirt and stroking the firm thighs and flat stomach. His hips were working again, rubbing his throbbing erection against Kyouya, then his fingers slipped downward to fondle his best friend’s cock. Gasping, Kyouya knew then that Tamaki could have cared less that he was male. Either way, he was determined to have him, he just needed Kyouya’s guidance again.
“Just lie there,” he panted, leaning forward over Tamaki’s face. The blond nodded dumbly, chest heaving as he willed his body to lie still. “Let me do everything. When it’s time, your body will respond as I want it-as you want it. Let me teach you,” he whispered, guiding Tamaki’s fingers toward his opening.
Yes, he was the only one who could satisfy Tamaki and all his whims, the only one who could understand his curiosity, the only one who would indulge him continuously-and he would be the only one who could give him pleasure.
“What’s your name?” Tamaki whispered, hesitating for a moment before Kyouya helped him spread himself open.
“Kyouya.”
-----
Fulfilling their plan required just a few more steps, which Kyouya explained to a groggy and sated Tamaki the next morning. They would have to publicly reveal that they had slept together, and provide some kind of proof, if necessary. Kyouya believed that offering to strip, to show the marks and indications of the previous night, should convince people sufficiently. And, he teased, running his fingers through Tamaki’s fine blond hair, they could always put on a public show.
Then Kyouya would have to reveal that he was male, and the third son of the Ootori family. That was necessary only in the name of fairness; everyone deserved to know that the chosen Princess-someday to be Queen-was a man who would never bear an heir. What they would do after that, Kyouya determined, would be worked out between councils, to make everyone feel included, but he was not going to allow Tamaki to father a child with a woman.
And finally, Kyouya would have to provide some kind of proof that he would be an adequate replacement for the women they had previously been considering to wed Tamaki.
“How are you going to do that, Kyou-ya?” Tamaki mumbled, rolling onto his side, hugging his pillow, eyes wide with awe and admiration.
“Easy,” Kyouya replied, adjusting his glasses. “Where are the accounting books?”