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Kyoya checked his watch, sighing when he saw the time. Three forty-five. “I can’t believe that you got me stuck in this mess.” Above them, the rain poured down onto the shop’s roof, a soft thud filling their ears. Water trickled into puddles in front of them, people rushing into the nearest buildings to shield themself from the sudden rainstorm. They were tucked beneath the upper deck of a clothing store, water falling between the cracks and landing on their shoulders. No umbrella and no plan, just Tamaki and Kyoya stuck in another “Tamaki Made” mess.
Beside him, Tamaki was staring into the storm. It felt odd looking at Tamaki, he was always the eye of Kyoya’s storm, so seeing him beside one, admiring one, felt like two worlds clashing. Kyoya didn’t give himself time to think about it, though, because they needed to get out of the storm and into somewhere that wasn’t an old women’s clothing shop. The owner was kind when they rushed in, but Kyoya knew if they stayed Tamaki would somehow spend all of his money on things he didn’t need and spend even more time talking to the women inside. He was a charmer, Kyoya knew it better than anyone, so taking him in public was dangerous. He loved people and people loved him.
Tamaki could be compared to the sun, in fact, it happened often. Kyoya’s sister used to refer to him as the sun, joking about how Kyoya seemed to light up whenever he was around. That irritated Kyoya, not because he wasn’t in love with Tamaki, but because he was. His sister was right. But Kyoya also knew that someone like him couldn’t compare to the sun and that if he tried to get too close he would be burned.
“This isn’t a mess!” Tamaki argued, staring out into the blankets of rain coming down. He was smiling, somehow he always was. Laughter was intertwined with his words as he squinted, trying to make out the buildings around them, the people running to shelter. “This is a trip, we just had a little weather get in our way. Think of this as a surprise or a way to get a break from all the walking.” He wrapped an arm around Kyoya and pulled him into a hug, resting his head against Kyoya’s shoulder.
His hair tickled his cheek and damp strands dripped down his neck. Kyoya tried not to hold his breath, but he failed miserably. The only time he seemed to fail was when he was around Tamaki, but he couldn’t convince himself to be angry when failing meant being so close to him. Being close to Tamaki was a moment of relief, an exhale, that Kyoya would only allow himself so often. They both had images to keep up, and while Tamaki couldn’t care less about the money or the views his family upheld, Kyoya cared. He respected his family, their ability to climb up and carve a way for themselves in the world, and he knew he would be dead if he was caught tarnishing the name and showing disrespect.
“We have been lost for twenty minutes,” Kyoya replied, turning to look at the shop map. He didn’t try to pull away from Tamaki, his touch was the only thing calming his anxiety. Not being in control and being left completely unaware of what would happen next. Being in control was nice, which was why he always took it upon himself to plan their outings. Tamaki was trying to be nice, though, and give Kyoya the day off by planning it himself. (Tamaki took the word “planning” in the loosest sense of the term.)
“It will go away, you’re so negative,” Tamaki pulled Kyoya tighter against him. “You can’t spend your entire life trying to map out the future, that’s how you miss things-” Tamaki raised his finger and pointed it at a couple. Without squinting they appeared as two, colorful blobs being distorted by the rainfall, but upon squinting and focusing one’s eyes it was easy to see the two swaying in the rain, sneaking kisses whenever they could and whispering things that only belonged to the two of them.
Kyoya watched the couple for a moment, studying them. Their clothes were cheap, not that he cared, but it did allow him to understand. They lacked the same pressure he felt. The two could dance in the rain, tying themselves into knots they could never undo, and not worry about what others believed. They were so unbelievably small. And Kyoya’s chest tightened with jealousy. No one spied on them or tracked their every move, they were free to be messy and dance in the rain and be themselves. Kyoya despised that they took a luxury he would never be rewarded for granted.
“It’s romantic, isn’t it?” Tamaki turned and faced him, his lips far too close to Kyoya’s. “Movies always talk about kissing in the rain, but I’ve never seen it happen.” He turned away from Kyoya and tilted his head to the side, a smile spreading across his lips. “I wonder if they’re happy-”
Kyoya pulled away from Tamaki in a swift movement, ducking his head down and pretending to look at the map. He kept his eyes averted from the couple, trying to calm the anger he felt. “They are,” Kyoya said as if he knew them, as if Tamaki’s question was so utterly, unbelievably stupid.
“And what makes you think that?” Tamaki shifted beside them, ducking away from the raindrops seeping between the cracks above him. He shook his head, somewhat resembling a dog, laughing softly as more rain dripped onto him.
Kyoya glanced at Tamaki, watching him only when he knew he wasn’t looking, and turning away when he decided that he had indulged in his love long enough. He looked at the map, trying to make sense of the shapes and colors before him. “Because they are proud,” Kyoya said simply, hiding his hands in his pockets. He feared if he didn’t tuck them away, if he didn’t curl into himself like a wilting leaf, that he would try to touch the sun, and that was far too dangerous. “They aren’t looking around, it’s just them, that’s how you know.”
A body slammed into him, long limbs tying themselves around him. His wet clothing stuck to him but he didn’t have time to register the discomfort, instead he focused on the warmth of Tamaki. He was resting his head on Kyoya’s shoulder again, reading the map with him, or at least pretending to.
“That’s awfully romantic of you, Kyoya,” Tamaki leaned forward, studying Kyoya’s face. With the sleeve of his jacket, he reached up and cupped his cheek, wiping away the raindrops Kyoya had yet to notice. He was too focused on Tamaki and how his touch felt.
Kyoya swallowed, not having the nerve to pull away. “People are easy to read,” he needed to keep his walls up. “You just have to spend enough time looking at them.”
Tamaki smiled. It was gentle, the type of smile that made wrinkles curl around the edges of his eyes. And he laughed, breathily. “You’re so smart, do you know that?”
Kyoya did. He knew he wasn’t a genius, but he was smart enough to figure out his place in the world and how to get there. He was smart enough to read situations and how to best escape them unscathed. Kyoya grew up learning how to be “smart” so that when he was older he wasn’t blind to the world around him. The only way to navigate the world he was born into was by being smart.
Kyoya nodded, aware of Tamaki’s hand still cupping his cheek. His fingers were cool, curling around his cheek with a gentle touch. It was enough to make his brain stop working. It took him a few moments to regain composure and take control of his mind. “We’re about two miles from where we started, we should wait for the rain to let up before trying to walk, my guess is that most stores are already completely full since most of the streets are empty-”
“Who said we’re leaving?” Tamaki dropped his hand and winked at Kyoya, walking into the store. “Maybe they have umbrellas, it is rain season.”
“Maybe, but waiting is the best option still, getting soaked isn’t going to be practical,” he didn’t know why he was trying to reason with Tamaki. Reasoning with him never worked. Once he had his mind set on something he was going to do it. That was the great thing about him, he refused to allow anything to stop him, even if it was reality. Tamaki knew where he belonged in the world and he didn’t care if he had to carve that place out himself. Kyoya admired it and envied it. He was so sure of himself without even trying.
“That’s why I’m buying an umbrella,” he said it like Kyoya was stupid.
And Kyoya let him get away with it.
-
Tamaki had shown up at his house early in the morning, proudly announcing that they had plans. He was already dressed up and shouting, something that only Tamaki could do at eight in the morning. He was already so happy and energetic, bounding around Kyoya’s room and waving his arms around, talking about nonsense that Kyoya chose to ignore. Instead, Kyoya groaned, turning onto his side and burying his face in the pillows beside him. He wondered why his father even allowed Tamaki to come into their home since he usually referred to him as an “annoying distraction” but he quickly remembered that his father didn’t see Tamaki as himself, but as a Suoh, or rather another opportunity to strengthen his social standing.
“We don’t have anything planned,” Kyoya replied. He had already checked his calendar the night before, making sure he had the day to do whatever he desired. The desire for the day? Easy school work and sleeping in. Of course, Tamaki would come over and interrupt. “I know because I planned on spending this day resting and catching up on classwork.”
“You don’t need to catch up on classwork.” Tamaki was hovering over him, hair falling in front of his face. He tilted his head, smiling as Kyoya blinked his eyes open. “Good morning,” he whispered before carrying on about their classwork.
He looked beautiful, so much so that Kyoya had to force himself to close his eyes and turn away from him. Tamaki always took him off guard, but Kyoya had learned how to handle it. Sometimes, though, Tamaki would surprise him, causing Kyoya to look at him a little too long or let Tamaki hold him a little too close. Kyoya shook his head, pressing himself into the bed. Tamaki made it so far for him without even knowing.
“You’re already ahead, you did that when we studied together on Tuesday.” He climbed onto his bed, pushing his way against Kyoya and settling beside him. “You can’t pull one over on me, Kyoya.” He was warm as he pressed against Kyoya, his fresh cologne invading his sense.
“I can try,” Kyoya sighed, jerking the covers out from under Tamaki and turning his back to him. He heard Tamaki whine but he ignored it, tempted to pull his blankets over his head and hide. It was immature, but so was Tamaki barging into his room and shouting before noon. “You are an idiot.” He settled into the cooler side of his mattress, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe, just maybe, Tamaki would shut up and he could go back to sleep.
“Come on, you can’t spend your entire day in bed. Go out with me, I have something fun planned.” Tamaki’s long arms wrapped around Kyoya, resting his chin on his shoulder. Of course, Kyoya wouldn’t be lucky enough for Tamaki to give up and be unlucky enough for Tamaki to wrap himself around him and halt his train of thought. His long legs tangled in the sheets, pulling them from Kyoya’s grip. Kyoya felt warm, his stomach erupting into a fit of butterflies he was far too tired to ignore. “All you have to do is get dressed, it’s planned and everything.”
It was only slightly tempting, not that Kyoya would admit it. If he did that meant Tamaki would win. Spending time with Tamaki was fun and he would get a break from planning their days out. But he had been up so late with his father, discussing his next moves and listening to his father’s pitches. Kyoya had barely had any sleep. But Tamaki’s warmth wrapped around him and urged him to move closer.
“Tamaki, can’t these plans wait another day?” He mumbled into the pillow. Tamaki’s hands traced patterns onto his skin through his shirt. His breath was shaking, but Tamaki didn’t pay enough attention to notice. “I was up rather late and I’ve only had a few hours of sleep-”
“But if we put it off then you’ll forget about it!” Tamaki groaned, pressing his face between Kyoya’s shoulder blades. “Kyoya, please, I can’t do this with anyone else.”
That tugged on Kyoya’s heartstrings a little too hard. He was never a romantic and people’s opinions rarely mattered, but Tamaki had a way of changing that about him. Small compliments and actions from Tamaki made Kyoya feel important. Kyoya wasn’t insecure, he knew his worth and strength, but the people that he cared for rarely gave him compliments. His family only encouraged him to move forward, work harder, and remind him that someone was always better than him. But to Tamaki, Kyoya was perfect. He spent hours showering Kyoya in compliments and buying him things that he could easily afford. It was nearly impossible for Kyoya not to fall in love with him. The boy tucked himself into the deepest parts of his heart before Kyoya had the chance to notice.
“I highly doubt that,” He waited for Tamaki to argue, basking in the moments where it felt like they were the only ones around. It was manipulative, Kyoya knew, but he didn’t feel shame for it. It was harmless, some selfish self-indulgence of love that Tamaki would happily give him. “We have several friends, the twins, Honey and Mori, Haruhi-”
“But none of them are you,” Tamaki sighed, pulling Kyoya closer. “We have something different than I have with them.”
Something different. Kyoya never expected to have such simple, meaningless words make him smile into his pillow, but he couldn’t hide how good it felt to have “something different” with Tamaki. They were best friends, Kyoya knew that was what Tamaki meant, but taking a moment to indulge and pretend it was something more felt nice. His sleepy haze stopped him from other thinking.
He hated that Tamaki made him feel special. He was an Ootori, sure, but that didn’t mean he was unique. The praise he gave his family name made him special. The awards he had won and the plans he had and the path he followed made him special in the eyes of the world. But in Tamaki’s, he didn’t have to do anything but exist. And that filled him with a warmth he never felt before.
He couldn’t find it in himself to argue, especially with the warmth still filling his veins. The least he could do was humor Tamaki, but Kyoya thought he was humoring himself more. “What are the plans?”
“I am so glad you asked!” Tamaki shot up from the bed, tugging at the blankets until Kyoya was facing him. “I thought we could go to one of the commoner shopping districts, one that has hundreds of shops all pressed against one another!”
It sounded overwhelming, perhaps worse than the day Tamaki forced him to go to the mall, but Tamaki wouldn’t let Kyoya out of it now that he had asked what they were doing. His mistake was showing interest, which Tamaki took as an automatic agreement to their plans. “Tamaki, we can go shopping somewhere nicer later in the day-”
“But Haruhi told me the best days to go were Saturdays because all of the shops are open early and stay open late into the evening.” Tamaki was wrapping himself around Kyoya again, resting his head on the pillow beside Kyoya.
Tamaki’s nose bumped against Kyoya and Kyoya found it in himself to pull away, rolling onto his back, pushing the warmth he felt inside down. Now wasn’t the time. “Then we have the entire day, we can meet there around one or two in the afternoon and go.” He raised his arm and looked at his watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. “I’ll see you then, Tamaki.”
“No, there are hundreds of shops that span up and down the road, we need the entire day to go to all of them and see what they have to offer. Haruhi said that most shops would have things we have never seen before because they’re small businesses. Isn’t that cool? Businesses we’ve never seen because they only exist there!”
Kyoya had heard of such things, but his family avoided shopping in areas like that. They believed it was a waste of time, there was nothing to invest in or allow them to expand their empire. His curiosity was peaked, so he sat up on his elbows and looked at Tamaki. “Where is it?”
“It is about an hour drive, I have my driver already outside with directions, and once we’re there we can spend the entire day and he’ll bring us back home when we are done. It’s perfect, you just have to say yes.” Tamaki’s eyes were bright, his skin glowed beneath the rays of sun that slipped in through his windows. “Please, Kyoya, please, I promise if you hate it I’ll bring you home and it’ll be over.”
Kyoya knew that wouldn’t happen, not that Tamaki would hold him hostage, but because Kyoya loved spending time with Tamaki far too much to leave even if he hated what they were doing. Being with Tamaki was just enough. “Okay, yeah, just let me get ready.”
“Perfect, thank you so much.” Tamaki wrapped himself around Kyoya, rolling them around on the bed as he laughed. “You won’t regret it, I promise I will make it so fun, you won’t even miss your bed.”
He doubted that. In fact, his bed was extra comfortable the more tired he was. Right now it felt like he was curled up in a bed of roses. Kyoya groaned, shoving Tamaki off him, praying that he couldn’t hear his heart racing in his chest. “I can’t get ready if you don’t let go of me,” He grumbled, sitting up. He ran his fingers through his hair, gasping when he saw something flying towards his face. Tamaki was known for pillow fights, but Kyoya had no time to prepare a defense, it was far too early for his senses.
Tamaki slipped his glasses onto his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. “There, they were on the table on my side so I thought I would help.” His hands cupped Kyoya’s cheeks. “Your hair is so messy.”
A breath Kyoya didn’t know he was holding escaped as he relaxed into Tamaki’s touch. Tamaki was close and looking at him so directly. And he could see the blush on his skin, the small moles that littered down his neck. It took all his strength not to curl himself around Tamaki and pull the sheets around them, all of his willpower not to beg Tamaki to stay this close, and all of his focus not to let how he really felt slip out.
That was the thing about sleep-deprived Kyoya. His senses were dulled and he didn’t think things through. He was unpredictable and unreliable. Which was why Tamaki being so close was causing him to short circuit, fighting thoughts of kisses with thoughts of being alone. He was afraid and excited all at once, and he didn’t know what to do.
Tamaki, as if he somehow read his mind, pulled away and laid back against the bed, closing his eyes and humming. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Get dressed, I don’t want to keep the driver waiting.”
Kyoya nodded, still struggling to form a thought. Instead, he just stood up, allowing his body to carry him into the bathroom. He tucked himself inside, feeling all too large and uncoordinated for the room. He shut the door, sinking down and sighing.
It was going to be a long day.
-
“Thank you so much, miss, I hope you have a lovely day and try to stay dry out there.” Tamaki flashed a smile to the woman behind the counter, waving his free hand as the other gripped the umbrella. Kyoya had to talk him out of getting one with a frog design, explaining that it was made for kids and would probably only cover half of him. After that, he had to remind Tamaki that he couldn’t even see the top of the umbrella so what it looked like didn’t matter. Tamaki disagreed because he was hardwired to make things difficult for Kyoya, even if he wasn’t aware of it.
Picking out umbrellas wouldn’t take many people that long. Most settle, grabbing the most convenient and affordable one, declaring that it’s good enough for the mundane act of keeping them dry, but nothing with Tamaki was ever that simple. He wanted a colorful one, but not an ugly one. He wanted one that could fit both of them beneath it, but not one that was so big it was laughable. On and on he went with these detailed instructions only he could understand. And after a half-hour of sifting through buckets of umbrella’s Tamaki finally found his. It was white, which was simple, but it was covered in colorful roses. The rose colors were from the rainbow, but the brightness could only be comparable to cheap, factory-made paints that children play with.
And Tamaki loved it. He gasped dramatically, clutching it to his chest when he found it. He then tried to open it inside, only to be reminded by a kind older woman behind him that opening umbrellas indoors was bad luck. He shivered at that, nodding and apologizing before looking up at Kyoya.
His hair was damp across his forehead and his cheeks were pink from the chilled air rushing towards them. The shop had many fans going at once, which was good for drying them but also made it much easier to get cold. He twisted the umbrella around in his hands, showing Kyoya the simple design. He said he liked how fresh the white looked and how each of the flowers seemed brighter because of it. Kyoya listened and nodded in approval, looking at Tamaki the entire time. He didn’t care what the stupid umbrella looked like, he only wanted to catch glimpse of what Tamaki looked like happy. The way his face lit up and he would turn to look at Kyoya every few seconds to make sure he was listening.
“What did I tell you?” Tamaki asked as they stepped outside of the shop. The rain poured around them, many people still tucked inside the small shops. Tamaki opened the umbrella, taking Kyoya’s hand and pulling him closer. He held the umbrella over them, smiling. “It works.”
Kyoya forced himself to pull away from Tamaki, turning his attention to the ground. “Were you expecting it not to?” Being this close to Tamaki wasn’t uncommon, Tamaki was wrapping himself around Kyoya just this morning and he touched Kyoya at least ten times a day. What made this hard was there wasn’t an excuse Kyoya could use to separate himself from Tamaki and get out of his head. He wasn’t used to being inches away from Tamaki for more than a few moments and now he was trapped beneath an umbrella that was barely wide enough for the two of them as his mind raced.
Touch. That was the word that appeared the most in his mind. He wanted to touch Tamaki, allow himself to rest against his body, and ignore how wet and uncomfortable their clothes had become. He wanted to stop thinking so much and just enjoy being near him. Let their hands brush together and allow the warmth from beside him to seep into his bones. No one was around, if Kyoya mustered up the courage he could take Tamaki’s hand the way Tamaki always took his.
But he wasn’t brave. And he couldn’t touch him. Or bask in his warmth. Because he was an Ootori before he was Kyoya. And because Tamaki was a Suoh before he was himself.
A knot began to form in his stomach, his shoes splashing in the puddles beneath him. To take his mind off the uneasy feeling he thought about the weather. The dark clouds continued to loom above them, so he figured that the storm could last well into the evening. And he had no idea how long Tamaki insisted on staying out. He kicked himself for not checking the weather before they left this morning.
Tamaki shrugged, eyeing the shops as they passed by. His right hand, the hand closest to Kyoya, was now holding the umbrella while his left was tucked inside his pocket. “I don’t know, I don’t really use umbrellas. I just run. Or walk. I really don’t mind the rain all that much.” He stepped away from the shop, squinting so that he could see through the rain. “Even when I was little my mom would take me out in the rain and just dance. We jumped in puddles and held hands.” Tamaki’s face softened as he talked about his mom, staring off into the distance as if he wished she would walk through the blankets of rain and hug him.
Kyoya felt selfish for being happy that Tamaki had to move to Japan. Logically, he knew that Tamaki wasn’t miserable and that he actually enjoyed the culture and the people he met. Often he would go on rants about how much he loved the Host Club and how they were a happy family. But Kyoya also knew that no one could compare to his mother. Kyoya didn’t want to, and he certainly didn’t expect Tamaki to choose him over his mother, but he still felt guilt. Guilty for admitting he was happy he got Tamaki while Tamaki spent days missing her. It was a thought he kept to himself, though. No one needed to know he was so happy Tamaki was in his life that he couldn’t imagine it without him.
“Then getting it was a waste.” Kyoya looked up, shaking his head. “We may be able to retur-”
“You didn’t like getting wet, when you saw the clouds you started to complain. I got the umbrella for you.” Tamaki said it as if it didn’t make Kyoya’s heart leap into his throat and suffocate him. He said it as if it was a fact like Kyoya was stupid to think Tamaki wouldn’t buy an umbrella for the rest of the day. “Don’t make that face.”
Kyoya wasn’t aware he had made any sort of face. His head turned as he looked at Tamaki. “I’m not doing anything-”
“You’re making the face you always make whenever I do something nice for you! You squint like you’re trying to figure out a homework problem.” Tamaki was looking at him and he looked enchanted. Pink cheeks and light cream skin. His eyes were shining, too, somehow.
Kyoya shook his head, averting his eyes. He shouldn’t look into the sun too long. “I don’t make a face.”
Tamaki laughed at that, stopping in his tracks. He changed hands, shifting the umbrella to his left as his right grabbed Kyoya and pulled his body back against him so Kyoya didn’t continue to walk without the umbrella, or more importantly, him. “Yes, you do. I know because I’ve looked at you every day for the past four years. I know your face better than you do.”
The argument wasn’t enough for Kyoya. His hands were spread across Tamaki’s chest, his body still shielded from the rain. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“When I celebrate your birthday every year you make the face, when I bring you gifts from trips, and whenever I run ahead and grab the door for you-” Tamaki looked at him, continuing to list the several times Kyoya made his so-called face. “When I come to your house when you’re having a bad day, when I offer to sit with you and study even though I hate studying because it’s boring and too quiet-”
“Listing a million reasons won’t make me believe you.” Tamaki’s chest was warm beneath his fingers and his arm was tight around his waist. Kyoya was thankful that no one could see them, not because he was an Ootori, but because this moment belonged to them, no one else.
Tamaki sighed, looking down at him and shaking his head. “You’re stubborn.”
Kyoya rolled his eyes, dropping his hands to his sides. “And you’re argumentative.”
Wind rushed past them causing raindrops to sneak beneath the umbrella. Tamaki’s left side was completely soaked, his sleeves, pants, and even part of his hair. But he was smiling and holding the umbrella above him like he had been dry the entire time. His nimble fingers gripped the umbrella, fighting back against the wind trying to blow it away. He held onto Kyoya the same way, in a grip that said he feared Kyoya would disappear into the storm if he let go. Rain trickled down their sides as they swayed against the gusts of air.
And despite it all, the wind, the storm, the rain, and the complete and utter chaos that followed Tamaki Suoh, Kyoya was happy.
-
Kyoya stepped out of the bathroom, sliding the door closed. Tamaki was sprawled out against his bed, his face buried in Kyoya’s pillows. His jacket was draped across the empty side of the bed beside a neatly folded pile of clothing. The sun had risen further into the sky, pouring into Kyoya’s room. Tamaki must have opened them while he was locked away in his bathroom. For a moment, he tensed, realizing he would have to tell his family that he was going out, but he slowly relaxed when he remembered they were visiting a vacation home to celebrate one of his family's many accomplishments. He wasn’t invited, not that he cared, instead it gave him more motivation to keep working and prove to them that he can be just as successful.
“I can feel you looking at me,” Tamaki muttered, turning his head. “I thought the sunlight would help wake you up.” He pushed himself up on his hands, looking at Kyoya.
Kyoya nodded, walking towards his bed. The carpeting beneath his feet was much more soothing than the chilled tile in his bathroom, but he still felt uneasy and out of place. It was an uncomfortable feeling, being around Tamaki unexpected. He enjoyed his time with him, that was why he felt uneasy. It made no sense, he knew it, but when he knew he was going to be around him he could prepare himself, build his walls up and remind himself of who he is. But today he awoke to Tamaki. Tamaki’s hair, Tamaki’s eyes, Tamaki’s scent, and voice and smile and just all of Tamaki. He didn’t know what to do and part of him wanted to snap at Tamaki and tell him that taking him off guard isn’t fair, but he was the one in love, not Tamaki.
“Well, you are in my bed and bursting into my room when I’m trying to rest, so I think I get the right to look at you,” Kyoya replied, trying his best to make his voice sound collected. He hated how childish and excited Tamaki made him feel. It was unlike himself and it was something he forced himself to control. And even when he focused all his energy on not loving Tamaki, he still loved him. “I need to change clothes.”
Tamaki nodded, swinging himself upright and nearly falling off of the bed. He swung his legs over the edge and stood up, waving at Kyoya. “I’ll be downstairs,” He called without turning around. He walked down the steps of his room and into the common area, where a few other articles of clothing had been strewn about.
Kyoya was unsure of who did it, his sister or Tamaki, but he felt himself smile as he looked at it. They were the only people who could get away with doing things like that without Kyoya not destroying them.
“I’ll make you some coffee, okay? Try not to take too long.” Tamaki had turned to face him, staring up at the balcony that overlooked his room. “I think the clothes I picked out will work for today, the forecast is a little cloudly but clear!”
Kyoya peered over the railing only to be met with a smile. He nodded, waving Tamaki off. “You take much longer than I do every time you get ready, so I don’t want to hear it.” He heard Tamaki laugh before his door opening and closing.
He sighed, eyes scanning over his bed. The blankets were a mess, especially around where Tamaki had been laying. There was a small divot where he curled into himself and tangled his body in his sheets. Kyoya studied it, looking at how Tamaki had bunched his pillow up and kicked all of his blankets into a twisted, tangled mess. He reached down, milky fingers brushing across the sheets where he had laid.
Kyoya never allowed himself to think of a future with Tamaki. He was an Ootori, his legacy and success came before love and relationships. Once he realized who he was, who he loved, he knew without a doubt that he would never be able to have a happy marriage or home. When he settled down he truly would be settling, with a wife and kids to pass his fortune on to. The Ootori family couldn’t have a successor who loved men the way Kyoya did, so dreaming of him and Tamaki in their own home, their own world, was just that. A dream.
But sometimes, Kyoya would allow himself to give in to the thoughts and imagine a life where his best friend was his partner, his lover. Where he could wake up to Tamaki every morning and not worry about keeping his guard up or picking his words wisely. His actions wouldn’t have to be calculated and he could give in to the urge to bury himself in Tamaki’s arms. He was unsure of the details, but no matter what he imagined he was positive it would be with Tamaki. And if it was Tamaki he would be okay. He would be happy. And he could finally exhale.
He didn’t realize he was smiling, with small tears trickling down his face until one landed on his hand. He had been gripping the sheets, his body hunched over the bed. Kyoya swallowed, nearly choking on the lump in his throat, as he straightened himself up. There was no use in crying, it wouldn’t make Tamaki love him or take the weight of being the third son away. So he sucked it up and walked away from the bed, wiping his eyes with his hands and looking at himself in the mirror.
Kyoya looked pathetic. Teary-eyed and red-nosed, back curling in upon itself and wondering hands shaking. His stare was blank, the smile he held moments ago long gone. That dream, that fantasy that made him so happy and so heartbroken at the same time would never happen. He straightened himself, swallowing once more and turning away from the mirror.
The clothing Tamaki picked for him was something he would wear, but not something he would choose for today. The shirt was a simple, black turtle neck that lacked wrinkles. He truly forgot that he owned it, keeping it tucked away and choosing brighter colors for himself to wear. His father once told him that when he wore black he looked like a failure like he was trying to blend into the background and hide from the world. Kyoya swore off black after that. The pants were a pair of gray slacks that were much more worn and a belt that was a matte black color with a silver buckle.
Kyoya put on the clothing, keeping his back to the mirror. His house was silent and part of him worried that he took far too long and that Tamaki decided to leave without him. And he hated the way his heart ached at the thought of Tamaki leaving him behind. He grabbed his phone and wallet, sliding them into his pockets before grabbing his key off the hook and disappearing down his stairs.
The clothes that remained out were folded, showing that Tamaki had been the one rummaging around in his drawers. The clothes were all in different sets, a pink shirt with white socks and jeans, a purple shirt with khakis. The outfits he had picked were rather eccentric and clothes that were a little too loud, but Kyoya found himself smiling because he knew if Tamaki had picked them he would’ve worn them. The only fight he would have put up were small grumbles of dissatisfaction as he got dressed.
Kyoya opened the door and left his room, standing up straighter out of habit. He could hear Tamaki humming to himself in the kitchen as he made his way down the hallway. Works of art hung on the walls he passed, mute photographs and simple paintings that decorated the house enough so that they looked put-together but nothing too vibrant to make them look unprofessional. Being home was a job for the Ootori’s, they never got a chance to rest.
Tamaki stood beside the kitchen island, sipping at a cup in his hands. His hip was pressed against the side, his eyes trained on the floor-to-ceiling window that showed the garden to the left of the estate.
“Thank you for picking out my clothes for me, but I’m not an infant.” Kyoya slipped behind him, taking in the thick coffee scent that filled the room.
Tamaki jumped, startled. “I didn’t know you came out, I didn’t hear you.” A soft click on the counter signaled that Tamaki set his drink down. “I didn’t remember how you liked it so I thought I would let you do that part.”
“I didn’t know you enjoyed coffee,” Kyoya mumbled, pouring himself a cup, the steam licking the sides of his face.
“Oh, I don’t, this is tea that I made before I came to your room,” Tamaki nodded to the glass, standing beside Kyoya.
A little too close, Kyoya noted. Less than a foot away. Not that Tamaki was known for keeping his distance and respecting social boundaries. “Do you make yourself at home everywhere you go, or just here?” He didn’t bother looking up from his cup.
Tamaki choked on his tea, his face turning red. “I, well, no, I just-” Tamaki sighed. “Let me start over.”
Kyoya hummed in agreement, mixing his cream and sugar into the coffee.
“I just… I don’t know.” He finally said. “Akane let me in, she said she was up early cleaning and said I was welcome to anything I needed and I felt chilly so I made tea because I remembered when you would come out and get it when I came over-” He rambled on and on, his face only turning darker.
“Tamaki,” Kyoya raised his cup to his lips and sipped. He locked eyes with him, lowering the cup. “I’m joking.” He said it with a straight face, his voice flat.
And yet, Tamaki laughed. And smiled. And ducked away to hide his blush. “You got me!”
Kyoya allowed himself to study him, take in his smile and the bashful look he had on his face. But he turned away quickly when Tamaki looked at him.
“You scared me.” He laughed breathily, placing a hand on his arm. “Try laughing the next time you make a joke, just so I don’t have a heart attack.”
Kyoya thought for a moment. Sipped his coffee. Looked at Tamaki. “I rather not.”
-
The rain showed no sign of letting up as they walked. A few people ventured into the rain, using their bags and thin jackets as a way to shield themselves from the thick drops of water, but the rain was unforgiving. It crashed into the sidewalk at an unforgiving speed as the wind blew past them. The storm was bad, not dangerous but worse than Kyoya expected when the rain started. The forecast the days before had mentioned scattered rainshower due to spring approaching, but this was turning into a storm. Beside him, Tamaki gripped the umbrella tightly, fighting back against the wind trying to whisk it away.
Half of Tamaki was soaked now, his pants a different shade on the left than the right due to all the water that was hitting him. His sleeve was also soaked and dripping down his arms, the fabric discolored from the rain soaking into the cloth. And yet he still looked happy. His feet landed in puddles as he walked beside Kyoya, keeping his arm steady so that Kyoya would remain underneath the umbrella.
Kyoya didn’t know why Tamaki hadn’t given it to him. He bought the umbrella because Kyoya had complained about the rain and getting soaked outside of the shops before they decided to go in, so him holding the umbrella wasn’t logical. (Not that anything Tamaki did was logical.) It made more sense for Kyoya to hold it, it was for him and Tamaki said he didn’t believe in using umbrellas anyway. But Tamaki still held it.
His mind came up with a reason that he refused to think about too long. It wouldn’t be good for his health. But Kyoya thought maybe, just maybe, Tamaki continued to hold the umbrella as an excuse to be close to him. He knew it was stupid and most likely false, but the idea of Tamaki possibly wanting to be close to him the same way Kyoya did made his heart leap.
“You can hold the umbrella closer to you,” Kyoya said as he pulled away from Tamaki and began walking out from underneath the umbrella, peering into the rain-slick windows at the distorted clothing and accessories behind the glass. “You bought it.” He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, making it hard for Tamaki to be nice to him, but he didn’t know what else to do.
Still, Kyoya felt warm thinking about Tamaki buying the umbrella for him. It was a small action, a kind one that Tamaki would do for anyone. But the fact that Tamaki did it for him, serious, angry, analytical, made him feel… good. Tamaki was kind, but he didn’t have to be kind to Kyoya. Kyoya had snapped at him, yelled at him, and rejected him. And he still did things for him. Kyoya had played dirty, taken shortcuts, and tied people’s thoughts in knots so he could get to the top. And Tamaki was still kind to him.
Tamaki was chasing after him, holding the umbrella for him, and keeping it over him so completely that half of Tamaki’s body was soaked. That had to mean something. Or that Kyoya was so helpless that he was making things up so that he could pretend Tamaki loved him.
“I’m okay, a little water has never hurt anybody,” Tamaki nudged him with his elbow, chuckling. “Plus, I like the rain.”
Kyoya nodded, taking Tamaki’s hand and moving it so that it covered more of him. “It looks weird having only half of you being dry.”
Tamaki smiled down at him. “You’re so stubborn, why can’t I take care of you like you take care of me?”
Kyoya sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose just so that Tamaki knew how frustrating he was. He made it so hard, loving him. Every word he said had Kyoya hanging on it, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white, and he didn’t even have a clue. He was so stupid but saw through Kyoya so well. And yet he was oblivious to the fact that his words carried a significant weight to Kyoya. He could feel his face heating up, so he made sure to pretend to be interested in the small pottery studio they passed with lopsided pots and colorful bowls in the window.
Tamaki wants to take care of him. He didn’t know why that had an impact on him. He was independent, he liked being in control, and yet Tamaki going out of his way to do these sweet, meaningless gestures pulled on his heart in a way he didn’t know was possible. Truth be told, Tamaki did take care of him today. He made the plans, like Kyoya does, and made him coffee like Kyoya makes him tea whenever they’re together. It felt domestic and like a painfully awful tease. These moments, these sweet, caring, meaningless yet meaningful moments teased Kyoya. He could never get a life like this, not the life he wanted with Tamaki.
“I don’t take care of you,” Kyoya replied, pulling himself out of the whirlwind of thoughts he was having. Now wasn’t the time. “I’m your friend, that’s what they do.”
“Well, you take care of me a lot, so I thought I could do it for you today.” Tamaki’s words rolled off his tongue. It annoyed Kyoya how easy it was for him to say such honest things. “You always plan our trips and make all the arrangements for the club, I thought the least I could do was return the favor.” He glanced out at the rain, deflating slightly. “I didn’t do as well as you do but I tried my best and-”
“Don’t,” Kyoya replied. Tamaki was beating himself up for the rain. He did that sometimes, whenever things didn’t go the way he planned he felt the need to apologize. “Feeling sorry for yourself won’t do anything.” He sounded like an asshole. He really wasn’t trying to, but his tone was cold. Words were never his forte, but he needed to try. He closed his eyes, struggling to find the right words. How would Tamaki say it? “Your best is enough.”
Beside him, Tamaki lit up. “I mean, I know it isn’t perfect but I thought it would be fun. Like our old trips but something close to home.” He had cheered up, and Kyoya could hear it in his voice.
“And a little water never hurt anybody,” Kyoya muttered, glancing at Tamaki in time to see the smile spread across his lips. He was glad Tamaki didn’t think Kyoya was mocking him.
“I’ll let you pick a few shops, I’ve been choosing them all day and my brain needs a break,” Tamaki muttered, moving the umbrella more towards Kyoya.
“Okay,” Kyoya replied, glancing between Tamaki and the windows he passed.
Tamaki looked beautiful, his hair damp and his cheeks slightly red. He had a small smile on his lips as he looked at the stores they passed. He nudged Kyoya excitedly whenever he saw a store he liked before pulling away and reminding Kyoya it was his turn to pick. He was so unapologetically happy.
“I’ll go wherever you want, you have gone into every store I so much as looked at…” Tamaki rambled.
Kyoya enjoyed it, following Tamaki around and watching him touch each item he liked, holding it tight as he explained why he needed it. Kyoya knew he needed none of it, and that most of the things Tamaki picked were random objects, hand-made vases and random shirts that people made for fun weren’t things he needed, but they made Tamaki smile, so it was okay. He liked seeing Tamaki happy, so he didn’t mind following him in and out of stores that sold random knickknacks and clothing they had never seen before. He would follow Tamaki to the ends of the earth if it meant he could see him smiling.
Kyoya nodded, pursing his lips as he looked between store windows. Many were clothing stores, some were bakeries and a few were even antique shops. But the shop that caught his eye was a small bookstore, that was tucked between a rug store and a shop that made t-shirts to order. He quickened his pace, stopping abruptly before the store. Tamaki splashed in the water beside him, hovering the umbrella over his head.
“This looks different,” he mumbled, reaching out and opening the door. He ducked inside, glancing back at Tamaki. He was fumbling with the umbrella, struggling to close it. Kyoya had to have been obvious when he looked because Tamaki stopped and gave an apologetic smile to him and waved his hand for Kyoya to go ahead and go ahead without him.
A small bell rang as Kyoya entered, wiping his shoes on the mat. He took his glasses off, cleaning them with a cloth he kept tucked inside his pocket. He rubbed the fabric over the glass, squinting to make out the several dusty and cluttered bookcases. Once his glasses were clean he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose and walked further into the store. Tamaki followed him inside, calling out an apology to the store owner for being soaking wet.
“I left the umbrella outside,” Tamaki whispered, ducking down to appear smaller. “I didn’t want to bring it in here and have it drip all over the floor.” He nodded down at the wooden floor beneath them, that had clearly seen better days. There were cracks and stains, as well as boards sticking up with crooked nails hammered into them.
The store was cramped, it was obvious that it was family-owned and that there was no organization, just books tucked into shelves wherever they would fit and shelves crowded together so they could put more products out. No workers could be seen and there were no customers either. Tamaki kept his arms tight against himself, his back slightly curved as he took another step inside. Kyoya didn’t blame Tamaki for hunching down to maneuver through the store, one wrong move could knock a series of bookshelves over. But Kyoya was more aware of the space he occupied, he had to be to live in his house, so moving through areas like this would be easy. His family would shame a store like this, say that it shouldn’t be open in such a poor condition and that it was an eyesore on the shopping district strip, but he didn’t hate it.
The store felt welcoming. It wasn’t the cleanest, with stained floors and books pressed tightly together. Above him, lights flickered and the wood groaned with each step he took, but that only made him want to venture deeper inside. He had seen markets and family-owned businesses in commoner areas, but this was nothing like what he had seen before. The store felt like it was for them to find, it was a place only they would know. Tamaki peered out the window at the rain, sighing.
“It doesn’t look like it’s letting up, so take all the time you need,” He said with a smile. It was clear he felt bad about the rain. He wasn’t one to plan thoroughly like Kyoya was, so of course, he didn’t check the weather. And even if he did and lied, Kyoya didn’t mind being trapped in the rain with Tamaki. He just wouldn’t say it out loud.
Kyoya disappeared down one of the aisles, if one could even call them that, his eyes scanning the shelves from top to bottom. New and old books were crammed into each shelf, their spines were torn from being pulled out then shoved back in without a care. All of Kyoya’s books were organized neatly on shelves by topic or author depending on the selection.
The bookcases were covered in dust, a few fingerprints showing which books had been pulled off and inspected. He raised his hand and ghosted his fingers across the spines, ignoring the dust that stuck to his finger as he traced the books. Something about the cramped bookstore was welcoming, it provided a safe feeling. Kyoya could hide away in here, he was sure he already lost Tamaki in the sea of books.
He rounded the corner, raising his other arm to trace the books on either side of him. The bookstore was quiet, the only noise being the rain thumping against the roof and the quiet radio playing deeper in the store. Kyoya couldn’t make the words to the songs out, but the white noise was nice to have. He hated silence, even when he did homework he forced himself to listen to classical music or a cheesy T.V. show in the background. There were titles and authors he had never seen, dull and bright colored spines mixed together in the wooden shelves that looked like they were moments from bursting.
At this moment Kyoya felt small. And it was comforting. He was tucked away in a place only he and Tamaki knew. The weight of his name meant nothing and he didn’t have to be anybody but himself. The shelves towered over him, allowing him to breathe out and relax. He loved it, the feeling of being insignificant. He would never admit it, especially with his drive to be the Ootori heir being so significant in every move he makes, but it felt good not having to worry. He didn’t have to hold his head high or plan his next move on how others would view him. He was just an insignificant boy in an insignificant bookstore.
-
“That color looks good on you,” Tamaki says standing a little too close.
Kyoya didn’t care, being friends with Tamaki meant having no personal space. The only issue was that it wasn’t the reason he didn’t care. Kyoya didn’t care because he wanted Tamaki close always. It was a curse, really, having his long limbs wrap around him and his face hover inches from his own. Many would consider him lucky, not many got to be that close to Tamaki, but all he felt was frustration. Tamaki had no idea what he was teasing Kyoya with, how much self control it took Kyoya not to give in.
Tamaki tilted his head to the side, eyeing Kyoya up and down. Kyoya clears his throat and turns his eyes away, pretending he didn’t feel the warmth inside his chest begin to grow. He could feel a blush creep up his neck, but Tamaki either didn’t notice or was kind enough not to mention it. Either way, Kyoya was grateful.
“I think it compliments your eyes…” Tamaki was far too close.
And Kyoya was far too vulnerable.
“And your skin, it looks so lovely when you wear darker colors.” Tamaki never knew when to shut up.
And Kyoya never knew when to tell him to stop. He never knew until it was too late. And god, he was so scared that it was going to be too late.
Tamaki was still talking. “I did good, picking this out.” He reached out and straightened Kyoya’s turtle neck, his gentle fingers brushing across Kyoya’s neck as he unfolded the fabric that curved into itself. “I remember Mori getting this for your birthday and you’ve hardly touched it. I thought it was time you give it a try.” Now he was praising himself, reminding Kyoya that he would be nothing without Tamaki.
For a while, Kyoya was strong enough to believe he was joking. Kyoya made a name for himself long before he ever met Tamaki. He didn’t need Tamaki to be successful or strong. He didn’t need Tamaki to command a room or hold his head high. But as soon as Tamaki wormed his way into his life, Kyoya started wanting him. He wanted him to be with him when he did homework or made plans for his future. He started aching for his company when they were apart. That was when he realized Tamaki wasn’t joking when he said Kyoya was nothing without him. Kyoya, of course, was something without Tamaki, he just didn’t like who he was without him.
“You’re the one that picked it out,” Kyoya muttered, stepping away from him and walking towards the window. He looked out it, pretending to focus his eyes on the gardens or clouds, but in reality he just needed something to look at that wasn’t Tamaki. “Maybe you should invest your time into becoming a stylist-” he reached up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Since you’re so good, of course.”
“Cockiness isn’t very becoming of you, Kyoya,” Tamaki was already inching closer, unaware of his affect on Kyoya. “I just think you look charming today. And part of that is because of me.”
He didn’t need to look to see that Tamaki had placed his hand over his heart and bowed. It was almost routine for him to do it whenever he stroked his own ego. “And what is the other part?”
“You.”
Kyoya swallowed, but the lump in his throat only seemed to grow. It was becoming hard to breathe, hard to focus. He knew he should say something, do something to shut Tamaki up and get him to leave him alone. But he was frozen and gasping for air.
Tamaki was still talking, unaware of the breathless, hopeless boy beside hmim. “I can’t take credit for your natural charm. After all, you’re naturally cool.” He was teasing him, because when was Tamaki ever not teasing him. He hooked an arm around his shoulders and smiled at him.
Kyoya couldn’t let himself look. He knew if he did it would be over. He would cave in. Collapse.
“Really, Kyoya, you’re rather handsome. I just think you hate to admit it.”
How could Tamaki see right through him and be so blind at the same time? “Why does it matter?” It took him a while to muster the courage to speak, but he finally cut Tamaki’s rambling off. “I’m not a pretty boy like you.”
Tamaki was beaming. “You think I’m pretty?”
Kyoya rolled his eyes. He did, he really did, but he couldn’t say that because he was Kyoya Ootri. So, he had to say the next best thing. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“Well, I wouldn’t blame them if they do, but it is rather arrogant of me to assume everyone finds me pretty-” Tamaki had his hand over his heart again, his body swaying as he walked circles around Kyoya. “But you, my dear Kyoya, are not everybody.”
Kyoya closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. How did he get here? How did he end up like this? Cornered by Tamaki Suoh. He was only supposed to befriend him to improve his social standing, not fall for him and become a weak, helpless teenage boy. “Why does it matter?” He repeated. It wasn’t smart or thought out, but it was something to fill the silence.
Tamaki dropped his hand to his side, his eyes hovering on Kyoya’s face. He looked frail. “Because I care about what you think of me.”
Kyoya’s heart raced.
“We’re friends, right?”
Right.
Kyoya nodded.
Friends.
-
“Kyoya!” Tamaki’s voice carried through the air, manuerving it’s way through the tightly packed bookcases and thin aisles. “I found a book I want to show you! Where are you?”
Kyoya dropped his hands to his sides, sighing. Tamaki. Loud, unapologetic, Tamaki. He had Kyoya wrapped around his finger. He started to walk down the aisle, following Tamaki’s voice. Only he would be loud in such a small, silent store. And only he would be able to be loud and not disrupt a thing.
Kyoya envied Tamaki for that. No matter where he was or what he did, he always seemed to belong. Even when he was extravagant and loud he found his place. People adored him without having to know his name or the weight it carried. He could just be himself. He could be too much to handle and still be perfect. Kyoya could only ever dream of that luxury. To be careless and authentic and self-assured.
“Kyoya!” Tamaki repeated. He called out for him without his voice wavering. “Please, say something so I can find you! I can’t see through these book shelves!”
“Well,” Kyoya replied, coldly. “They aren’t windows.”
“There! Keep talking!” Tamaki had managed to walk further away. “Where are you? This store goes on forever.”
Kyoya smiled to himself. Tamaki. Wreckless, messy, authentic, Tamaki. “It doesn’t, Tamaki, it’s smaller than half of the stores we have been in. You just keep going in circles.”
“Stop walking away from me!” He sounded helpless, like a lost child. Kyoya knew he was pouting.
“I’ve been in the same aisle the entire time, you’re the one that’s moving.”
“Well,” Tamaki huffed, his hands thudding against his sides. “You come find me.”
“I’m busy,” Kyoya stopped, leaning against one of the shelving units.
Outside, rain pattered against the sidewalk. The small windows at the tops of the walls were covered in raindrops, distorting the cards and people moving outside. The storm had yet to waver, but people were growing impatient and wanting to continue their day. Kyoya didn’t blame them, but he also would come up with as many excuses as possible to stay tucked inside this safe, unobtrusive building.
“Are not.”
“Are to,” Kyoya looked at the titles of the books beside his head. “Look around, I’m sure you could benefit from reading a few of these. Maybe they have books about France.”
“I want to show you something! Please! Kyoya, you’re killing me.”
He smirked. Dramatic. “I’m sure you’ve walked past me while trying to find me. Try again. I’ll look at whatever you have to show me when you find me.”
“It’s a book!”
“I figured that much.”
Tamaki sighed again, louder. He wanted Kyoya to know he was irritated. “Please, Kyoya.”
“How much longer are you going to whine?”
“However much it takes for you to come find me.”
Kyoya pushed himself off of the bookcase and began to walk, peering down the zig-zag aisles that were filled to the brim with books. Underneath some of the bookcases were mini carpets, no carpet matching the next. It was rather ugly, the unkept wooden floors and dusty, mismatched carpets. And to top it all off, none of the aisles were the same size. Some went on for yards while others may only go a few feet. Nothing was straight or put together. Instead, it was erratic and unorganized. Two things Kyoya hated. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to despise the bookstore. Its chaos made sense in a way.
He looked down the aisles as he passed, taking his time to scan over the spines of the books as well. It had been a while since he had gone to a bookstore. Their school libraries were much different. There were catalogs and organizing systems that made finding the books easy. The floors were a glossy, oak and the bookcases were accented in gold. When he went there, he knew how to navigate it. It was predictable and boring. Maybe that was why Kyoya had grown fond of this decrepit place.
Kyoya stopped, turning down the aisle when the spine of a book caught his eye. It was a soft pink color with white flowers littered across it. His first thought was that it would be a cover Tamaki would like. He wasn’t much for reading, especially in Japanese since he still struggled with the translations, but it fit him. Kyoya tilted his head to the side, tracing his fingers gingerly across the spine. The book reminded him of Tamaki, even to the title.
“Prince,” Kyoya whispered, tracing out the title with his fingertip. “That’s fitting.” He was smiling to himself, struggling to tear his eyes from the book. He pinched the spine between his fingers and pulled it off of the shelf, looking down at the cover. The cover was an outline of a man, a rose in hand. He opened the book, his eyes scanning over the first few pages. Kyoya closed the book, slipping it back into the place it belonged.
He straightened himself up, starting to walk further down the aisle. He slipped his hands into his pockets, listening to the rain outside. Raindrops rushed down the windows, leaving wet streaks in the glass. Cars were beginning to roar down the road outside, but the rain wasn’t letting up. Kyoya stopped to look at another book spine, one with a black background and red lettering. All of the books surrounding it were light colors, so it was impossible to ignore. He pulled the book out, flipping through the pages.
A soft gasp escaped his lips as a body slammed into his, causing his glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose and the book he cradled in his hands to clatter against the floor. He tensed immediately, pushing his glasses up with his finger and taking a large step to separate himself from the other person. He whipped around, preparing to lecture the body about personal space and being aware of their surroundings, but he was met with wide, violet eyes.
“Oh, Kyoya, I finally found you!” Tamaki was hunched over, smiling wide. He had a book clutched to his chest. “I was worried you had left without telling me, the twins like to do that then see how long it takes me to realize.” His smile was pretty, pink lips parted with rosy cheeks to match.
Kyoya wasn’t sure if Tamaki had found him or simply run into him, but he would put money on the fact Tamaki was running around, panicked, and not paying attention to where he was going. He nodded, straightening his shirt and standing up. His smile was what Kyoya was focused on. Tamaki was full of smiles, handing out his grins like they weren’t priceless. But this smile was different. There was no act, no expectation for him to smile and appear princely. He was smiling because he was flustered and shy. He was smiling because he saw Kyoya.
Kyoya hung on to that thought, a small smile playing on his lips. This smile belonged to him, it was for him. Tamaki wasn’t smiling at a pretty girl or a stranger he passed on the street. He was smiling at Kyoya. His body felt warm, a fluttering sensation spreading throughout his chest.
“What book were you looking at?” Tamaki asked, stepping closer. He was looking at the floor now, which reminded Kyoya he had yet to pick up the book he was holding when Tamaki crashed into him.
Tamaki was first to lean down and pick it up, reading the title. “Midnight Rose,” he muttered, flipping the book over in his hand. “I didn’t know you were into romantic novels, Kyoya, that’s sweet.”
Kyoya glared at him, balling his hand into a loose fist and punching Tamaki in the shoulder. He took the book from him and placed it back onto the shelf. “That’s not the book I intended on buying, just a book that caught my eye.”
Tamaki chewed on his lip, nodding in almost a childlike manner. “Yeah, totally.”
“Shut up, I don’t read romance boo-”
“I found a book that made me think of you,” Tamaki whispered, cutting him off. He pulled the book from his chest and handed it to Kyoya. It felt all too private, too intimate.
Kyoya took the book from his hands, looking down at the cover. The cover was a skyline of a large city, a boy seemingly standing above it all. He had darker hair and glasses. The title read “Heart of a Saint, Life of a Sinner” in white, cursive lettering. He had to bite back a smile as he turned the book over to read the synopsis, or rather stare at it since he was already going to buy the book Tamaki claimed to remind him of Kyoya.
“I read the first chapter while we were apart, it’s about a boy who is competing with his older brother for the throne. It’s fiction, which I know you don’t read much of, but it made me think of you. He’s a lot like you, he’s literal and focused on what he needs to do to be successful,” Tamaki explained, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He was embarrassed, it was clear from the blush on his cheeks, but Kyoya didn’t mind. It was sweet that Tamaki found the book for him. “He’s described as tall with raven hair and eyes with glasses, so he even looks like you.”
Kyoya fell silent, his eyes scanning the shelves beside him. Without saying a word he tucked the book underneath his arm and walked towards a certain row of books. He reached up, tracing his fingers along the spines as he walked, eyes reading bits and pieces of each title. Behind him, Tamaki was a stuttering mess.
“I’m sorry if that was weird, I just thought, I don’t know, it reminded me of you and I thought you would like to read it since you read books your sister recommends,” He was rambling, panicked that he did something to irritate Kyoya.
Kyoya could give it to him, Tamaki had irritated him time after time, in countless ways. He had danced on every single nerve Kyoya had left and continued to stomp them into the ground some days. He had irritated Kyoya many times over the span of their friendship, so his fear wasn’t unfounded. Kyoya would shut down when Tamaki ignored him. But Kyoya loved him. And he loved the book and the way Tamaki smiled at him and the way Tamaki could make the most disastrous days tolerable. Kyoya loved Tamaki. He just didn’t know how to express it.
Kyoya pulled a book from the shelf, walking back towards Tamaki as he held it loosely in his hand. As he passed him he pressed the book into his chest and continued to walk. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until he dropped his hand back down to his sides. Fingers twitched against his side, itching to busy themselves with something, anything to distract from the fear that filled his body.
It was stupid. The book he handed to Tamaki was just that, a simple book. But it was a book in this bookstore, this rundown, hole-in-the-wall bookstore that they found hiding from the rain. And the book made Kyoya think of Tamaki. And the book stood for something that Kyoya couldn’t put into words. It said something he didn’t know how to say.
Kyoya tried to ignore the buzz of anxiety he felt inside of him, rounding the corner before he could hesitate. The book may end up meaning nothing to Tamaki. Kyoya could be crazy, he could be reading too far into things. He continued to walk, keeping his back turned to Tamaki. He wanted to know how Tamaki felt, if the book meant anything or if he was being dramatic, but he refused to turn and look. He didn’t want to know that bad.
Behind him he could hear Tamaki fidgeting with the pages, opening the book, and inspecting it. Then he heard footsteps. And a warm body was pressed beside him. And suddenly Kyoya wasn’t anxious anymore.
“You think I’m a prince?” Tamaki asked, almost innocently. He was clutching the book, it appeared small in his hands.
Kyoya kept his eyes forward, only glancing when he felt Tamaki’s gaze shift back to the book. “You could say that.”
“Well, thank you,” Tamaki nudged him, his smile blinding. “I think I’m going to buy this one. It can be a sort of memory for today!”
Kyoya looked down at the book in his own hands, nodding. “I may do that as well.”
-
“You know, maybe you shouldn’t break in and force me out of bed every weekend.” Kyoya looked at his lap. They were waiting for the car to pull around. Tamaki had insisted that it stay parked around the other side of the estate, but Kyoya refused to walk that far in the morning.
“You’re so dramatic, I didn’t break in, I was let in.” Tamaki crossed his arms, huffing. “If you hate me so much tell your maids to ignore me whenever I come by.” He turned his nose up at Kyoya, keeping their space.
Kyoya sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was so early for his dramatics. “If I hate you then you should leave.”
Tamaki deflated beside him, his head still turned away from Kyoya. He was silent for a few beats, looking anywhere in the room but his friend. He shifted around in the seat before sinking down and turning to face Kyoya. “Do you hate me?”
Kyoya laughed. He actually laughed. Because there was no way the boy in front of him believed that Kyoya could truly hate him. Kyoya knew what he looked like, the way he acted, but Tamaki saw a different side. A side Kyoya only trusted him seeing. And somehow, still, Tamaki believed Kyoya hated him. “You’re an idiot.”
“It’s not funny! Do you hate me?” Tamaki was practically whining, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
Kyoya shook his head, covering his mouth with one hand. Tamaki was so, so smart. And yet, he was a complete idiot. “Tamaki-”
“Stop laughing! If you laugh one more time I’m going home.” It was an empty threat.
Kyoya thought about laughing, dramatic and overbearing just to get Tamaki to leave so he could go to bed, but truthfully, he didn’t mind his company. “I don’t hate you, if I hated you then you wouldn’t be inside, let alone sitting next to me this early after forcing me out of bed.”
Tamaki relaxed, nodding. He put a hand over his heart and fell back against the couch. “Kyoya, tu m'as fait peur.” He looked like he belonged in a cheesy rom-com that his sister enjoyed.
Kyoya stopped, looking at him. He swallowed, trying to hide his face. Tamaki read him too easily and the last thing Kyoya needed was Tamaki figuring out that Kyoya liked when he spoke french. (Even if he said he hated it.) He tore his eyes from Tamaki, shaking his head. “You know I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”
“Pas juste,” Tamaki replied, “Tu me parler dans Japanese toujours!”
That part Kyoya could understand, even if it was a little clunky. It was the same argument Tamaki used whenever Kyoya got frustrated with him speaking French. “I speak Japanese because you live in Japan now and I’m Japanese.”
Tamaki shook his head. “Tête de mule, Kyoya!”
Kyoya sighed. “I still don’t know what you’re saying.” He couldn’t help but focus on the way Tamaki sounded when he spoke French. His voice didn’t waver, he seemed confident.
“Pourquoi es-tu énervé?” He was wide eyed and frowning.
It was unfair, Tamaki knew how to pull at his heart strings. Add in the fact that he was speaking a different language, a language that only made Kyoya’s heart race when it came from his lips, he was just fighting dirty. “Tamaki.”
Tamaki reached out and cupped Kyoya’s face, turning his head so Kyoya was forced to look at him. “Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?”
“You know I hate when you speak French, I can’t understand it,” He swallowed, looking into his eyes. He could feel his face heating up, his cover being blown. Tamaki didn’t need to know Kyoya loved the way he sounded when he spoke French and how his name sounded different when Tamaki spoke French than it did in Japanese.
Tamaki pouted, jutting out his bottom lip like a child. “Vouloir dire.” His thumb rubbed across Kyoya’s cheek. “Je suis désolé mon ami.” He was too pretty for his own good.
And far too pretty to be this close to Kyoya. It couldn’t be good for his heart. He was going to die. Kyoya tried to pull away the same way he tried to fight back against the blush, but both of his efforts were helpless. He was bright red and his face was being held gently by Tamaki. He was bare, his chest flayed open in front of Tamaki. There was nowhere to hide, no excuses to make. He was transparent. “Tamaki-”
“Tu es rouge,” A smile broke across his face. His fingers curled around Kyoya’s cheek, the tips of his fingers disappearing into the edges of his hair. “Pourquoi es-tu rouge?”
Kyoya reached up, curling his own fingers around Tamaki’s wrist, going to push his hand away. This was too much. He was too close to ruining things. Kyoya didn’t know what he would do if he lost Tamaki.
“S'il te plait ne t'éloigne pas.” His face was soft. He moved closer to Kyoya, pressing his forehead to his.
Kyoya felt his heart in his throat. He dropped his hand to his side, staring into Tamaki’s eyes.
Then he repeated it. “S'il te plait ne t'éloigne pas.”
Kyoya took a deep breath. “Tamaki.” It sounded like he was begging. It sounded weak and helpless and pathetic. But he still repeated it. “Tamaki-”
“Kyoya-”
Beside him his phone rang. Tamaki pulled away, leaving an empty feeling inside of Kyoya. Tamaki answered, speaking softly before looking up at Kyoya. “He’s outside.”
Kyoya nodded, standing up. “Then it’s time to go.”
“Kyoya-”
“Let’s go.”
Tamaki followed him out silently.
-
Tamaki stood behind him, peering out the door. “Our driver is pulling up right now,” He muttered to Kyoya, pressing his phone to his chest. “Yes, I see you coming, we’ll be right out. Thank you so much, I’m sorry again that I drug us out into the rain.” He closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket, smiling at Kyoya. “He’s outside, are you ready?”
The weight of the bag in his hand was comforting. It gave is shaking hands something to fiddle with. He didn’t know why he was shaking. The book rustled inside the bag as he opened the door for Tamaki, smirking when Tamaki glared at him.
“I took you out, you should be allowing me to be the gentleman.”
Kyoya shook his head, stepping out beside him. “Gentleman don’t need permission.” He began to walk towards the road, stopping when a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him backward. “What? He’s right over ther-”
“The umbrella is gone,” Tamaki’s hair blew across his forehead as he stared at the pavement. It looked as though he was attempting to stare right through it. “Oh my god, the umbrella is gone-”
“It must have blown away,” Kyoya muttered, squinting as he stared through the rain. There was no sign of their obnoxious umbrella in sight. “It’s gone.”
“You’re going to get wet,” Tamaki whispered.
Kyoya nodded. “Yeah, the rain will do that to you.”
Tamaki stepped around him, his own bag swaying beside him as he walked. “I’m going to go buy a new one-”
Kyoya took a deep breath, grabbing Tamaki by his hand. For a moment, he panicked. He took his hand, not his wrist. But Tamaki didn’t seem to notice. He was more frustrated that Kyoya stopped him. “No, you aren’t. The rain won’t kill me.”
“But you don’t want to get wet-”
“It’s a few yards. We can go back to my house and dry off.” Kyoya stared up at Tamaki, ignoring the rain pounding into the concrete around them.
Tamaki sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Then how are we getting to the car?” Without missing a beat, he intertwined their fingers and grinned. “I got it-”
“Tamaki-” Kyoya warned.
“Run!” Tamaki shouted in a fit of laughter. He jerked Kyoya off of the sidewalk, keeping his body tight against his as he ran.
Kyoya followed, his vision blurring from the rain and his glasses sliding up and down his nose. Around them, rain roared and thunder boomed. People were running beside them, running to any open store for a moment of peace. But Kyoya didn’t need a store to feel peace. He felt peace now, running beside Tamaki with their bodies flush against each other and fingers interlocked. He was sure that if the lightning struck him he would be happy.
Beside him, Tamaki giggled happily. He stomped in each puddle he could, dragging Kyoya through the zig-zag path as well. His hair was soaked, hair sticking to his forehead. His hand was warm and he gripped Kyoya like he feared he would leave. (Though Kyoya never would. He was sure that after Tamaki held him like this he would never want to be apart from him ever again. It was unfortunate.)
Kyoya found himself smiling as well, running quicker to keep up with Tamaki. There were a few moments where he feared their legs would tangle and bring them crashing into the slick ground beneath them, but Tamaki kept rushing ahead of him. His laughter was infectious, Kyoya beginning to laugh and stumble alongside him as the rain Tamaki splashed through soaked his own pants. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he focused on was Tamaki.
Tamaki.
Tamaki.
Tamaki.
The door to the car swung open and Kyoya was shoved inside, his slick body sliding across the leather seats. Tamaki climbed in, settling between his legs. The door slammed shut and Tamaki’s loud laughter filled the back of the car.
“Can you take us to Kyoya’s, please?” Tamaki asked, shrugging out of his jacket and flinging it onto the seats beside them.
The car roared to life beneath them, rain falling onto the roof of the car as it pulled away from the sidewalk and began to drive. Raindrops splashed onto the windows above their heads, but all Kyoya could think about was the warm body between his legs and the pretty, rain-covered face above him.
Tamaki turned his attention to Kyoya, resting his hands on the seat, his arms on either side of his head. He hovered over Kyoya, laughing. His hair dripped onto Kyoya’s face, causing him to break out into another fit of laughter. “Sorry, Kyoya, I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
Kyoya swallowed, staring up at him. “It’s okay, you are dripping with good looks.” It was a line Tamaki used nearly every time it rained.
Tamaki smiled, dubbing over in laughter. His cold nose pressed into the side of Kyoya’s neck, his wet hair tickling his ear. “Kyoya.”
Kyoya closed his eyes, focusing on keeping himself under control. They were close, but that didn’t mean anything. Tamaki was affectionate, he loved to hold his friends, kiss their cheeks. This meant the world to Kyoya, but the reality was that it could mean nothing to Tamaki. He had a lot of love to give, it would be inconsiderate for Kyoya to expect to receive all of it.
“Did you have fun today?” Tamaki asked, sitting up. His hair continued to drip down onto Kyoya’s face. He balanced himself on one hand, brushing his hair from his face.
Kyoya’s face was flat, his lips pressed together in a line. “It was a disaster.” He said, blankly.
Above him. Tamaki’s face fell pale, his smile disappearing. “Kyoy-”
“But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Somehow the words sucked the air from his lungs.
Or maybe it was the way that Tamaki’s face lit up. “Kyoya! You can’t do that! You scare me when you do that!”
Kyoya laughed, staring up at him. “You’re fine.” He could feel himself relaxing against the slick seat beneath him, studying the way Tamaki looked. His clothes were slick against his body, his hair dripping down the sides of his face and his chin. His cheeks were the pinkest they had been all day. He would have to force Tamaki to change so he wouldn’t catch a cold. He was always so stubborn when Kyoya took over him.
“You’re staring,” Tamaki whispered, tilting his head to the side. “I’m sorry, my hair must be a mess.”
Kyoya’s mouth was dry. “It looks fine.”
“And I’m sorry that it rained.” Tamaki was pouting again, shaking his hair so that a few drops landed across Kyoya’s shirt. “Ruined my plans.”
“You didn’t have a plan to begin with, this was spontaneous, like everything else you do.” Kyoya could only focus on how close Tamaki was. Beneath his chest, his heart was racing. His hands were shaking again, he could feel them ghosting across the leather seat beneath him. “It’s who you are.”
Tamaki smiled at him, closing the gap between them and pressing his forehead to Kyoya’s. “Do you like who I am?” His eyes were gentle, begging.
Kyoya stared at him. He was scared. He was so, so scared. But Tamaki looked so pretty above him. So gentle and understanding. Kyoya forced the lump in his throat down, slowly nodding.
Tamaki leaned down, pressing his lips against Kyoya’s. His body pressed down against him, one arm cupping his cheek and the other cradling the back of his neck. Kyoya’s hands found themselves on either side of Tamaki, gripping his shirt. He pressed against his touch, eyes fluttering closed. The kiss ended all too quickly when Tamaki pulled away.
“Kiss back.”
“Hm?”
“Kyoya, you forgot to kiss me back,” Tamaki cupped his cheek and leaned down, brushing his lips across Kyoya’s. “Don’t be shy, mon amour.”
Kyoya closed his eyes, turning his head away. “Tamaki,” He grumbled.
“Don’t be like that,” Tamaki kissed him softly. “You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Tamaki sighed, sitting up further. “Kyoya.”
Kyoya pulled him back down, kissing Tamaki softly. “Idiot.”
Tamaki kissed back, smiling against his lips. He reached down, taking one of Kyoya’s hands into his. He intertwined their fingers, pressing his hand against the seat. His other hand cupped Kyoya’s neck, tracing patterns onto his throat with his thumb. Kyoya’s kissed back, gripping Tamaki’s hand.
Tamaki pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kyoya’s mouth. His nose brushed across his cheek, his hand still tangled with Kyoya’s. “Maybe today wasn’t so terrible.”
“No, it was. We got lost, there was a storm, and we lost our umbrella. It was terrible.” Kyoya glanced at Tamaki, shaking his head at his frown. “That doesn’t mean I had a bad time.”
“So, you had a great time?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You did call me a prince…” Tamaki sang, pressing another kiss to Kyoya’s face. “Gave me a book like a sap. And kept staring at me. And blushed when I spoke french. Mon amour-”
“Save it for when we get back home.” Kyoya pushed Tamaki’s face away, pulling his glasses off his face and drying them off.
“Home?” Tamaki asked.
Kyoya nodded, humming in agreement. He didn’t have the confidence or the words to tell Tamaki that whenever he went Kyoya would follow because Tamaki was his home. But the downpour outside told Kyoya that he may have some time to figure it out.