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What You Can't Control	By : Neonna Category: +M to R > Ouran High Host Club Views: 2856 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own OHSHC, or any of its characters. I do not, did not, and never will make a profit from this or any other fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-What You Can't Control
- 1
A/N: Kyoya PWP. It's just porn. Enjoy!
Warning: Yaoi...implied.

What You Can't Control

Kyoya reached for his glasses to remove them from his face, and rub the bridge of his nose. He set his glasses down on the bed beside him while he ran his other hand through his hair, mussing it further. Leaning back on the hand still clutching his glasses, he wrapped slender fingers around the tie at his throat, and eased it loose. There was an insistent throbbing in his groin. It had been there for a while, several hours in fact, his hot, hard erection pressed against the zipper of his trousers, making them uncomfortably tight as he worked. But he hadn't had time to satisfy his urges, not yet anyway. So for now, he appeased himself by adjusting his pants into a more comfortable position.
Work never ended. That was that he loved, and hated about it. He turned to a notebook that lay open on his bed. Inside was his daily to-do list with most of the items already crossed off. He flipped to a clean page, and glanced absently at the clock on the corner of the laptop. The time flicked from 3:18am to 3:19am. Kyoya dated the top of the clean page, and copied the items from the previous day. This was his addiction, his drug. There was nothing more satisfying than crossing items off a list. It was what humans excelled at after all: working, completing, doing. True fulfillment could only come from advancing. It was what they were evolved to do from the time humans crawled out of the caves, and started using tools, until now in the modern age.
Finally, with his list complete for now, he allows exhaustion to encase him, and falls back into the comfort of his bed. His breath rushes out of him like someone had punched him in the stomach as his trousers restricted even more in the horizontal position. Irritation bubbling to the surface, Kyoya reached slim fingers to the waistband of his trousers, popped the button with one hand, and felt instant relief as the painful pressure eased.
Kyoya closed his eyes, and mentally turned away from himself. There was no reason for him to be hard. He was tired, exhausted even. He needed to be up in a few hours for school, and he hadn't even been fantasizing about Tam -
He cut his own thoughts off, and felt his cheeks redden, but it wasn't by choice. His body's subconscious feelings, and desires were the one thing he had not yet learned to fully control. He could suppress them for a time by burying himself in work, but sooner or later, his body demanded attention. In the past, he had simply ignored his body like he ignored many of the host club members during the day, but doing so eventually interfered with his work. His mind would throw sexual images at him. He was intelligent, and observant enough to imagine what the club members were capable of in their private lives. Mori sweating over Honey, breathing heavily like the dark horse he is as he pounded into the blonde; Honey twisting in pleasured agony, and moaning Takashi's name. The twins' act was a little too convincing; they would be the ones who liked to explore, and play their punishment games, but with rope, and riding crops. Hikaru was the dominant one during the day, but behind closed doors he would beg Kaoru to take control of him because Kaoru had enough emotional intelligence to find Hikaru's breaking point, and be able to push just beyond it. Tamaki would be...would be. Kyoya didn't know, or perhaps didn't want to think about it.
Slowly, tentatively - and as though law enforcement might break into his room any moment, and accuse him of debauchery – Kyoya reached down to cup his groin. The contact of his own hand felt so deliciously good through the fabric of his pants that he had to swallow a moan. He squeezed himself through the material, and his back arched.
It was too hot. Kyoya sat up, and slipped the loosened tie over his head to be discarded onto the floor. His hands fumbled with his shirt. He managed to unbutton it half way before impatience took over, and he left his shirt to sink a hand down his previously unbuttoned pants, pushing past his boxers to come into direct contact with his cock. He licked his lips as he pulled his dick free, and ran his fingers from the base to the tip, smearing the precum that had already beaded there. The light, teasing touch of his own fingers sent chills down his spine. He tore a gasp from his own lips as he pressed his thumb into the sensitive slit.
Only when he had himself bucking into his touch, desperate for more did he use all of his hand, palming himself with long, slow strokes. It was so good, oh gods was it good. As much as he hated these urges, it was during these times when his brain stopped multi-tasking, and he could focus solely on his own pleasure. It wasn't long before the familiar heat began coiling in his stomach, and any sense of shame he may have had towards his actions flew from his aroused mind.
Kyoya pushed his half-buttoned shirt off one shoulder so he could graze a nipple with the palm of his hand. At the new sensations, his stomach dropped, which reminded him briefly of the feeling of falling, but then the heat returned more violent than before. It wouldn't be long now. He bit down on his bottom lip as the hand on his cock quickened its pace. His breath was coming in uneven pants as he tweaked, and played with his nipple until it stiffened between his fingers. His hips thrust into his hand of their own accord, and the copious amount of precum slicked his length so that each stroke of his hand made a soft shlick shlick sound. The sound was so erotic that his heightened, sensitive, and yes, lewd mind supplied him with the image of Tamaki on his knees before him, crying out as Kyoya rammed into his ass again, and again.
A shudder wracked his spine, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. Pressing two fingers into his mouth, he sucked at the digits as he used his other hand to wriggle out of his pants. By the time his pants had fallen onto the floor in a heap, Kyoya removed his fingers, feeling a string of saliva remaining on the corner of his mouth, and not caring. Those slicked fingers spread the cheeks of his ass, and teased at his tight, hot hole while his other hand continued its administrations on his cock. The pleasure from stroking his cock lessened the tiny prickle of pain from his ass as he rushed to push his index past the tight ring of muscles, and bury it as far as he could. He thrust that finger in and out a handful of times, in sync with the strokes on his cock before adding the second finger. A loud, low moan slipped from his mouth as he found that tiny bundle of nerves, and prodded it, massaged it, fucked it, fucked him.
His movements became frenzied, the sensations becoming too much. The edges of his vision blurred. He couldn't get enough air, but it didn't matter.
“Oh god-yes, T-Tamaki,” he groaned, arching his back as he froze, cock pulsing. His fingers continued to fuck him through his orgasm, slamming into his prostate until there was nothing left.
Coming down from the high was a long process. It started with his breathing, the sound of his own shallow pants beckoning him back to reality. As he consciously began to control the oxygen flow in and out of his lungs, his hammering heart began slowing also. It was all he could hear, the blood pumping in his ears. His lips were dry, and he licked them. When he felt strong enough to move, he unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, and used it to wipe the cum that had splashed onto his chest. His detail-orientated mind told him that dirty clothes needed to go into the hamper, but his cum-filled, sex-exhausted mind didn't give a shit. He tossed the shirt onto the floor with his pants, and crawled into bed.
Fantasizing about Tamaki was a new thing for him. Perhaps he should do something about that... but Kyoya's thoughts were cut off as he drifted off to sleep. Tonight, his exhausted mind didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed.
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What You Can't Control