(no subject)
I owe shounenhero Kyouya/Tamaki from like a thousand years ago, so here it is. ♥
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki didn't have to practice the piano so often.
Tamaki sits at the bench in the music room, puttering out fanciful melodies like a girl, or something, taking himself too seriously for a hobby so trivial. He's got some talent, Kyouya will grant him that, but Kyouya can't help wondering if he wouldn't do it better, had he been doing it as long as Tamaki had, or were it a sensible skill to learn like balancing a checkbook. Tamaki's no good at that, but he can poke a tune out of some ivory keys, and he can smile and have it look natural, and the girls are going to like that better in the long run.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki had never had this stupid host club idea. It would let him have his free time to himself, to get accomplished the things he needed to get accomplished. Like, for example, deciding whether he would rather become completely subservient to his father, desperate for any scrap of inheritance, or defy the man entirely, proving that he had a spine but also a financial deathwish. Neither option looked appealing, but both options looked more appealing than sitting here in the music room hunched over a laptop while Tamaki arpeggioed away and prattled on about some of his ideas, and Kyouya wasted the last precious days of his summer vacation arranging manageable plans for something he didn't even want to have anything to do with.
Tamaki wants to use the music room. Tamaki wants to clear the piano off to a corner, and to get better curtains. Tamaki wants to cosplay, sometimes, and to have every kind of cake imaginable, so that whichever kind the princesses prefer will always be on hand. Tamaki wants to use those twins from the year below them that Kyouya finds so excrutiatingly annoying.
In the end, it all comes down to what Tamaki wants. Tamaki wants Kyouya to be there, and that's why he's there.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki had never had this stupid host club idea. It would let him have his free time to himself, and away from Tamaki, to decide whether he would rather become completely subservient to his father, desperate for any scrap of inheritance, or admit that he was gay, shattering his dreams of being accepted by the man as a suitable human being, and acknowledging the existence of all the time he has spent with Tamaki, doing what Tamaki wants, because even though all the girls like Tamaki better in the long run, Kyouya does, too.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki didn't have to practice the piano so often, or quite so near to him that Kyouya could see the twists and turns of his delicate fingers, or the oh-so-serious passion for the music that swept across his high, half-French features, or the arch of his back as he leaned over the keys to play that is somehow erotic.
He starts to wonder if all Tamaki ever does is bend, and curve, and twist, or if anything about him ever breaks. Kyouya breaks all the time. His glasses have broken on numerous occasions, and sometimes it has been Tamaki's fault. He broke his arm once falling down a flight of stairs. The bottom broke out of his school bag that one time, two years ago, and his papers went every which way and nobody stopped to help him pick them all up, the way Tamaki would have now.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki would break, sometimes, and that he had never had this stupid host club idea, and that he would stop playing the fucking piano, because it is breaking his heart.
But do you think we should have a seventh member, Tamaki is proposing, fingers slowing on the black and white keys, and Kyouya can't listen to the music or his voice any more, and leaps up, and the coffee table is upturned, and his laptop falls off and perhaps it breaks, and Tamaki's voice falters and cracks a little, and Kyouya is grabbing him by his skinny half-French waist and hoisting him up onto the top of the piano and tugging hard at his waistband and maybe he'll come out to his father after all because wouldn't that just be hilarious -
Tamaki is surprised, and rightly so, because they've never really done much more than kissing each other before, and Tamaki's usually initiated that. But the end of the summer marks the beginning of their high school career, which are the years in which he's going to need to work the hardest and become the best, and he isn't quite ready to give all that up just yet. He has to keep having Tamaki to himself now, and in this case it means having Tamaki, and more precisely having Tamaki's cock in his mouth, because he's never done that before and it all of the sudden sounds like a really good idea.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki wouldn't tug on his hair quite like that, because now that he's sat up more properly Kyouya knows that he's enjoying it, and each little twist is in time with a little pant of air and it's such a turn-on. He's not going to be able to handle it, especially because Tamaki tastes so good, and because he's thinking none of the princesses would ever do this to him, and even if they would, I did it first.
The noise Tamaki makes when he comes makes Kyouya feel like for once, something about Tamaki is broken, and that he'll probably never be able to fix it.
Kyouya wishes he didn't enjoy that so much.
And for all curious: my date went rather well, I think. :'D
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki didn't have to practice the piano so often.
Tamaki sits at the bench in the music room, puttering out fanciful melodies like a girl, or something, taking himself too seriously for a hobby so trivial. He's got some talent, Kyouya will grant him that, but Kyouya can't help wondering if he wouldn't do it better, had he been doing it as long as Tamaki had, or were it a sensible skill to learn like balancing a checkbook. Tamaki's no good at that, but he can poke a tune out of some ivory keys, and he can smile and have it look natural, and the girls are going to like that better in the long run.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki had never had this stupid host club idea. It would let him have his free time to himself, to get accomplished the things he needed to get accomplished. Like, for example, deciding whether he would rather become completely subservient to his father, desperate for any scrap of inheritance, or defy the man entirely, proving that he had a spine but also a financial deathwish. Neither option looked appealing, but both options looked more appealing than sitting here in the music room hunched over a laptop while Tamaki arpeggioed away and prattled on about some of his ideas, and Kyouya wasted the last precious days of his summer vacation arranging manageable plans for something he didn't even want to have anything to do with.
Tamaki wants to use the music room. Tamaki wants to clear the piano off to a corner, and to get better curtains. Tamaki wants to cosplay, sometimes, and to have every kind of cake imaginable, so that whichever kind the princesses prefer will always be on hand. Tamaki wants to use those twins from the year below them that Kyouya finds so excrutiatingly annoying.
In the end, it all comes down to what Tamaki wants. Tamaki wants Kyouya to be there, and that's why he's there.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki had never had this stupid host club idea. It would let him have his free time to himself, and away from Tamaki, to decide whether he would rather become completely subservient to his father, desperate for any scrap of inheritance, or admit that he was gay, shattering his dreams of being accepted by the man as a suitable human being, and acknowledging the existence of all the time he has spent with Tamaki, doing what Tamaki wants, because even though all the girls like Tamaki better in the long run, Kyouya does, too.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki didn't have to practice the piano so often, or quite so near to him that Kyouya could see the twists and turns of his delicate fingers, or the oh-so-serious passion for the music that swept across his high, half-French features, or the arch of his back as he leaned over the keys to play that is somehow erotic.
He starts to wonder if all Tamaki ever does is bend, and curve, and twist, or if anything about him ever breaks. Kyouya breaks all the time. His glasses have broken on numerous occasions, and sometimes it has been Tamaki's fault. He broke his arm once falling down a flight of stairs. The bottom broke out of his school bag that one time, two years ago, and his papers went every which way and nobody stopped to help him pick them all up, the way Tamaki would have now.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki would break, sometimes, and that he had never had this stupid host club idea, and that he would stop playing the fucking piano, because it is breaking his heart.
But do you think we should have a seventh member, Tamaki is proposing, fingers slowing on the black and white keys, and Kyouya can't listen to the music or his voice any more, and leaps up, and the coffee table is upturned, and his laptop falls off and perhaps it breaks, and Tamaki's voice falters and cracks a little, and Kyouya is grabbing him by his skinny half-French waist and hoisting him up onto the top of the piano and tugging hard at his waistband and maybe he'll come out to his father after all because wouldn't that just be hilarious -
Tamaki is surprised, and rightly so, because they've never really done much more than kissing each other before, and Tamaki's usually initiated that. But the end of the summer marks the beginning of their high school career, which are the years in which he's going to need to work the hardest and become the best, and he isn't quite ready to give all that up just yet. He has to keep having Tamaki to himself now, and in this case it means having Tamaki, and more precisely having Tamaki's cock in his mouth, because he's never done that before and it all of the sudden sounds like a really good idea.
Kyouya wishes that Tamaki wouldn't tug on his hair quite like that, because now that he's sat up more properly Kyouya knows that he's enjoying it, and each little twist is in time with a little pant of air and it's such a turn-on. He's not going to be able to handle it, especially because Tamaki tastes so good, and because he's thinking none of the princesses would ever do this to him, and even if they would, I did it first.
The noise Tamaki makes when he comes makes Kyouya feel like for once, something about Tamaki is broken, and that he'll probably never be able to fix it.
Kyouya wishes he didn't enjoy that so much.
And for all curious: my date went rather well, I think. :'D