Focus

Warning: contains mild yaoi (Kyouya / Tamaki)

This is my first Ouran fic - I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it too! This story is also available in LiveJournal (also Author name synvamp) if you would like me to reply to your comments :D


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“I’m doing the accounts” Kyouya said, his voice low and controlled. He tried not to make eye contact or move at all, he just kept staring at the calculator. He knew from experience that anything else would just encourage him.


“Can’t they wait?” A soft voice mewled in his ear. Feather soft kisses fluttered down his neck as he was caressed by his King’s soft breath.


Kyouya swatted both the kisses and the horny blond away. Always when he was doing the accounts. If the man had a calculator fetish, then he would know about it. He knew everything else about his bizarre lover, after-all He could only guess that this desire for attention stemmed purely from the lack of attention he was giving Tamaki’s current antics.


The blond was so used to being adored by the masses that he became positively insecure when faced by the prospect of an hour or two without a loving entourage. It went a long way to explaining Tamaki’s desire for the dark-haired and level-headed Shadow-King. He wanted everyone to love him, and with his charms and looks, even Kyouya occasionally thought that it may just be possible. He had won him over, after all. He’d got him to join the host club and had even wormed his way into Kyouya’s bed. It didn’t make any sense to the dark-haired boy. Why would an attention loving dramatist like Tamaki want to spend so much time with someone who wouldn’t give him that attention, flatter him, or bow down to his every whim? Maybe he liked a challenge? It didn’t really seem like Tamaki’s style, but the Shadow-King had long given up trying to make sense of the blond’s actions. It probably explained why he liked Haruhi so much… she didn’t fawn over him like practically every other person on the planet.


Every person except him, that is.


“I’m bored!” Tamaki whined, sprawling himself flamboyantly across a red velvet couch. He was beginning to go from the playful phase to the petulant phase. Kyouya silently hoped that he managed to get at least the takings and Hunny’s cake consumption calculated before the blond went into tantrum phase and found a corner to darken with one of his inevitable, sudden, and fiercely self-pitying foul moods.


He clicked away on the keys and tapped the desk with his pen, making sure he didn’t look up. Now he couldn’t see where Tamaki was in his peripheral vision. This was not a good sign. There were only so many places that the blond could go and none of them were conducive to accurate account keeping.


A mess of blond hair slowly rose from under the table in front of him. A pair of wide violet eyes peered over his clipboard.


“Are you done yet?”


“No.” Don’t make eye contact, whatever you do. Eyes front and down. Hands occupied by pen and calculator. Not thinking about Tamaki’s bizarre paradoxical love of attention. Doing the accounts.


Kyouya reached over and picked up the invoices from the week before. The eyes disappeared below the desk again. He pushed his glasses up his nose and tried not to get flustered. Invoices for cake, cake, cake, cake… Maybe he would have to have a word to Hunny about his inhuman ability to absorb sweet things like they were fresh country air.


He felt a hand brush up his thigh; he could tell it wasn’t a deliberate caress, more an accidental bump while Tamaki was wriggling around. He tapped his pen harder. Invoices for outfits, for the props from last week’s special theme day…


This time, the stroke was certainly deliberate. He could feel Tamaki’s long delicate fingers skirting up his calf, then trailing up his thigh, inching ever higher… He had to stop this or he’d NEVER get any work done. He pushed his seat back from the table with a huff and then made his greatest mistake.


He looked.


Tamaki was curled up underneath the desk, one hand outstretched where Kyouya had removed his personage from the King’s grasp. A long finger disappeared between slick pink lips, it was pushed deeper, sucked, and then slowly removed, an equally pink tongue swirled over it in circled delicate motions as it was drawn slowly out. The King’s shirt and pants were lying in a dishevelled heap next to him.


“It’s my duty to make sure that the host club runs smoothly and all of the hosts are always able to provide our ladies with the dutiful and romantic service which their delicate loveliness demands…” The King grinned up at his lover.


Kyouya tried to go back to his paperwork.


“…so that means making sure that you are always relaxed enough to function at full capacity…”


Kyouya tried to ignore the fact that the blond was lying, almost entirely naked under his desk, lazily drawing his hands up and down his perfect, creamy, skin…


“…a happy host is a profitable host after all…”


The hands continued slowly trailing across the perfect toned body. Kyouya’s eyes followed wherever those deft fingers caressed. Imagine combining seduction with promises of improved profits... Tamaki was really pulling out the stops tonight. But now he had Kyouya’s attention, he couldn’t take his eyes of that perfect pale flesh. He could feel his pants getting tighter as Tamaki crawled across the floor towards him and then settled his head in Kyouya’s lap. He looked at the tent in the front of his lover’s pants and licked his lips.


Then he turned his hungry violet eyes on his Shadow-King,


“Are you done now?” He smirked up knowingly.


“Yes, I’m done.”


It turned out that - as always - the accounts could wait.


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