Focus

Warnings: Contains yaoi / mansmex!

Part Two of my first Ouran fic. I just got the urge to write more. Don’t worry, it’s still cheesy PWP :D


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Kyouya considered the blond dispassionately, shutting away as much of the lust from his mind as possible. Tamaki was slightly ruffled and mostly undressed, muscles just showing under creamy pale skin. His fingers hovered over Kyouya’s thighs, his teasing light touch giving the Shadow-King goose bumps. He clearly had sexual intentions and his bedroom eyes were having their desired effect. Kyouya found it was usually better to accept defeat gracefully once things had reached this point.


No matter how much his mind rebelled and he used his iron will, his body just wouldn’t listen. After years of putting his heart and soul into satisfying the whims of others, after years of making dreams and fantasies come true, Tamaki had certain definite talents. In addition to this, he always ensured to do everything just so, perfectly and precisely designed to drive Kyouya out of his mind. Other lovers had annoyed him with their inexpert and clumsy methods. Tamaki did nothing but soothe his frazzled nerves and sate the desire that only he could awake. Only he seemed to see Kyouya as he was.


He still tried to keep the mask secure. It helped him to feel safe. He could admit that, in the same clinical way he could map out the assets of the club members to entice a possible new customer. In a way, it was simply a trait of his much repressed personality. It was allowed to stay because it was functional in the world that he occupied. It was a means to an end.


But here in a room that suddenly had nothing in it but Tamaki… Even though he always tried to keep the mask up… it was nice to know that he didn’t have to.


Tamaki leaned on Kyouya’s knees and then slowly climbed up his body. The lingering heat from the blond’s touch burned and he knew that he was very close to loosing all sense of modesty and decency. He pushed his glasses up his nose and sat back as the King perched on his lap. He had to ask now because there was no guaranteeing that he would be capable of speech in five minutes. He liked to know what was happening around him and Tamaki was one of the only people who still managed to surprise him. Just sometimes. It charmed him in a way that he hated to admit.


Such a foolish flamboyant fop, but so… pure.


“Just one question,” Kyouya asked as Tamaki leaned forward and peered into his eyes with a smirk, “why are you always so interested in me when I’m doing the accounts?” Was it just attention he craved, or did he have another motive? Tamaki swivelled to face him and wrapped his legs around Kyouya’s waist. He locked his ankles behind the chair and stared at Kyouya with those undeniable violet eyes. The Shadow-King tried to lean back further to gain a few precious seconds of sanity, but Tamaki ran his fingers through his dark hair and held Kyouya’s head still.


“Am I really so bad?” Tamaki pouted. “You always make such a fuss.” Kyouya wished for the tenth time that week that he could somehow ignore this petulant moody creature.


“You’re perfect,” he said, leaning forwards to plant a soft kiss on Tamaki’s lips, “and you are very bad for business.” Without Kyouya he would be lost, and he was perfect in his helplessness.


“I told you, it is my duty to ensure that the host club…” Tamaki launched into his little speech again, gesturing grandly despite being firmly wrapped around Kyouya, the tantalising heat of his body wriggling close sending shivers up Kyouya’s spine. The speech was a nice touch, he changed it every time and it was always at least passable. Kyouya wondered if he would ever realise that he didn’t need one. He silenced Tamaki with another kiss and wrapped him up in eager arms. He pulled him close and nuzzled his neck, just enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressing together.


Why was it that only Tamaki could make him want to do this? Make him want to just hold someone and be in their arms. What was the merit in these kinds of personal fripperies? That was what the speech addressed. Tamaki’s seemingly unconscious awareness led to him offer Kyouya’s mind an excuse for what his body demanded. He tried to fight it every time and every time somehow, Tamaki weakened his resolve. It probably would have really bothered him if he didn’t want it to happen. The fact that he wanted it to happen bothered him a lot. That was what Tamaki did to him. Even basic logic defied him, his stock portfolio was probably suffering a… Tamaki’s hands cupped his jaw, forcing his chin gently up.


“Touch me.” Simple, desperate words. Nothing more. The sanity he’d almost re-gained slipped away. His fingers brushed pink nipples and he took delight in Tamaki squirming. He brushed one hand gently across the blond’s groin. A soft moan was his reward, the King was hard and already starry eyed with lust. Kyouya’s hands reached for those sharp hips as Tamaki stretched his lithe body; he slipped his fingers below the waistband of the blond’s boxers and caressed him slowly. Tamaki arched his back and moaned, beautiful in the dying evening light.


Elegant long fingers dexterous from years playing the piano in a way fit to make a God weep undid Kyouya’s shirt in an instant. Tamaki scattered playful kisses across his face and slid the shirt down Kyouya’s arms. He let his kisses slowly build and linger, then ran his fingers down Kyouya’s bare chest. He stroked his stomach, circled his nipples and then undid his Shadow-King’s belt.


“Now take off your pants,” Tamaki said, grinning. Kyouya raised an eyebrow and looked down his imperial nose as Tamaki stood and gestured to encourage him to disrobe. He was so forward tonight; Kyouya was trying to adjust. He thought he might like this but it was too early to tell. Often Tamaki knew what he would like before he did. It was another infuriating talent. He did not stand. He sat calmly and pushed his glasses up as he took in the blond’s slender body. Tamaki blushed just a little, “I’m sorry. I guess I just wanted…”


He was still hard but so coy, blond locks falling in his face as he peered up and asked for forgiveness. Such a fool.


Kyouya slowly and deliberately flicked the button at the top of his fly and undid the zipper. He slid the black dress pants from his narrow hips and held them up to Tamaki. “What next?” He asked. He took delight in the blond’s fear and sudden boldness. He knew that this would make Tamaki uncomfortable, but the blond had started it by bossing him around and he must know that curiosity alone would force Kyouya to explore what was offered. It was in his nature, after all.


Violet eyes swimming with complex emotion peered into his. Tamaki took the pants from his hands and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. Kyouya winced. In an instant, the transgression was forgotten as Tamaki stretched the elastic of his own black silk boxers and stripped completely naked in an effortless sweeping gesture. Before Kyouya could register, the lustful blond was on his knees in front of him kissing his legs and gently encouraging him to move his knees apart.


The elegant fingers slipped below his waistband and eased the fabric over his hips. Once he was also naked Tamaki leaned over. His hot breath on Kyouya’s bare skin made the ache in his groin build even faster. How could he ever resist when his body craved this soft flesh? His touch, his breath and his hot wet mouth were like ambrosia.


For a moment Kyouya could forget his father and all that he represented and just float in an ocean of perfect lips, freedom from pretence and pale blond hair.


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