Focus

Warnings: Contains yaoi / mansmex

Part Three of my first Ouran fic, something a little more cheesy. Hope you enjoy :D


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The music room was completely silent. Moonlight streamed in through the only window with the lush drapes drawn back. It shone onto the piano and lit the keys like a spotlight, beckoning for an audience and a virtuoso. The melody being played was a duet that only two people could hear. Two people in another world, with only each other. Their eyes met and Kyouya held his breath.


Tamaki’s lips were so soft when they took the Shadow-King between them. His mouth was warm and tight and he moved slowly, lowering his head and keeping eye contact with Kyouya. He swirled his tongue around and sucked. Kyouya moaned and felt his heart rate quicken. The delicious warmth covered him and Tamaki flicked his tongue after every long stroke, sending shivers down Kyouya’s spine. Teasing fingers caressed his nipples and then spread his legs further apart. Kyouya entwined his fingers in the golden hair, careful not to pull and let his head fall back.


He let the feeling wash over him. His every nerve tingled as expert fingers traced patterns up his sensitive thighs. A lingering ache was building and every tiny movement was ecstasy. Those soft lips increased their pressure and the lust started to take over. He wanted those lips on his, that supple body close and hot. He looked again into those clear violet eyes and shuddered at Tamaki’s hot breath on him as the King lifted his head. The lust in his eyes made Kyouya need him more than ever… but there was something else as well. Something this flamboyant creature with his heart on his sleeve couldn’t hide.


“Why are you so quiet?” Kyouya asked softly, he didn’t want to startle the blond. He’d learned to be more tender, now that their relationship warranted it.


Tamaki looked at his hands. His long fingers still trailing in lazy circles on Kyouya’s thigh. “I’m not…” he started. His wide violet eyes fluttered and he looked up at his Shadow-King. “It’s because you look so serious.”


Kyouya drew his brows together in a silent question.


“…it’s why I come to you when you’re doing the accounts. I want the host club to be like a family, that means it has to be fun for everyone. I just want you to be happy here…” he looked down at his hands and Kyouya’s heart jumped, lurched and then went back to normal. Interesting. Clear, perfect violet eyes looked up at him. “You are happy, aren’t you?”


“I like to do the accounts...” Kyouya said. The perfect eyes clouded with hurt; apparently that was the wrong thing to say. He even got it wrong when he was trying. No girl had ever given him so much trouble. Tamaki was truly impossible; petulant and sulky and divine. He put one hand under Tamaki’s chin and kissed his lips, softly. “And this is why,” he finished.


Tamaki pulled away gently. “I just… I want…” He looked down again, searching his knuckles and fiddling. Kyouya wondered, more orders?


“I just want you to be happy!” He blurted. It really mattered that much to him?


“I am happy.”


“Then why don’t you ever smile?” Tamaki bit his lip gently and peeked up at Kyouya through his perfect golden hair.


“I am smiling,” Kyouya replied. A single tear made its way down Tamaki’s flushed cheek. Kyouya could feel a weight press down on him. Something he had never felt before. He lifted Tamaki’s chin and looked into his eyes. He didn’t know what to say… He felt naked and exposed. Helpless.


“It’s more of a smirk…” Tamaki said softly. A tiny smile crept into his eyes and Kyouya’s heart broke.


He stood slowly and pushed the chair away, then leaned down and whispered into Tamaki’s ear, “Put your arms around my neck,” the King silently obeyed and Kyouya pressed his nose into the soft blond hair and felt the dampness of tears. He lifted Tamaki up and carried him in his arms, across the room to where the most comfortable velvet couch sat.


He lay Tamaki gently down on the soft pillows, cradling his head and kissing him softly. His fingers trailed slowly down Tamaki’s pale skin. The muscles of manhood were forming in his chest and his shoulders were broader than they had been at the beginning of the year. He still had a tiny patch of softness below his belly-button. Kyouya kissed slowly down the rich expanse of creamy skin. He could smell the soft fruit scent of Tamaki’s soaps and shampoos. He always smelt so inviting, sometimes fruit, sometimes flowers or Kyouya’s favourite, spice. He kissed the defined line of the blond’s pectorals and nibbled the soft patch on his stomach. Tamaki’s head fell back on the pillow and he put his hands into Kyouya’s hair.


A soft click and the sound of shoes softly padding across the floor made Kyouya look up from his ministrations. Haruhi was walking calmly across the room, striding towards the piano. Tamaki shrieked and leapt at least three feet in the air, vaulted the couch and vanished. Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose and sat down in the most discrete position he could think of. He was completely naked, so that position was legs crossed. It was also rather painful in his current state.


Haruhi walked straight past him, picked up a stack of papers which had been left on the piano stool and walked back. The sound of her footfalls was unbearably loud as Kyouya watched her walk complacently across the room. She turned back for a minute, almost as an afterthought, “It’s alright. It’s always been perfectly obvious that you are a couple. And for future reference, this is not the best place to be discrete.”


Tamaki’s head slowly rose above the back of the couch. “I’m sorry!” He wailed, “That a daughter should have to see her father in such an indecent posture… You will probably need counselling for months… Oh Haruhi, can you ever forgive me? How indecent of me! How can I ask such a question at a time like this when you are traumatised and shocked by my horrific display and wh…”


“It’s ok.” She said; slow and clear. “My Otosan is almost never fully dressed. Anyway, it’s appropriate if you are mother and father, really.” She turned and walked out, her precious biology notes pressed to her chest.


“Did you hear that mother!?!” Tamaki leapt with glee, “She called me father!!!” He bounced around the room sighing happily, a sight which gave Kyouya cause to smirk again. He was completely naked after-all, twirling in giddy, happy pirouettes. He had gone from horny, to sad, to deep horror, to pure glee all in about twenty minutes; typical Tamaki.


Kyouya put his hand out to lead the blond back to the couch. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he said.


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