Never before in his life might Kaoru have imagined himself wanting to be anywhere other than Spain.

Here he is, however. One of two tired bodies stewing with impatience and contemplation in an otherwise empty gate, deep in the bowels of El Prat Airport.

He can hear the muffled voices announcing the status of various flights across the loudspeakers, but chooses to ignore the voice in favor of maxing out the volume on his ear buds, instead. He nestles deeper into the worn leather duffel that has for years accompanied him from one continent to another, and is grateful for its familiarity while so much else appears to stay suspended in the air.

It's not every day he finds himself making the choice to not board the first-class accommodations meant to take himself and his friends back to Boston—a place he's come to consider a home away from home.

It's even less often he's being voluntold to do so by the likes of Tamaki Suoh, who apparently seeks steadfast and appropriate company for his best friend during the long journey home.

Sitting up, Kaoru looks across the terminal at Kyoya and sighs. He too is lying down, glasses folded across his chest, which with each breath steadily moves up and down.

Don Quixote, chasing girls across Spain… What am I even doing here?

Right about now, the only thing Kaoru wants more than answers is to not sit alone with all of this quiet reverie and internal banter.

That's it.

His choice is made, reckless though it may be.

Eyes never moving from Kyoya's chest, Kaoru slowly reaches inside of his duffel. Years of existing alongside Hikaru have helped him grow accustomed to acting with a certain level of stealth in order to accomplish the tasks he wishes to achieve.

Maybe it's the boredom, or maybe it's the morbid curiosity. Kaoru doesn't much care, and keeps his eyes wide open when the protracted item leaves his grasp and clears the target he's made of Kyoya's head.

Within seconds Kyoya is up, startled from whatever peace these silent moments might have offered. He looks from Kaoru to the ground, the culprit of this disturbance now resting by his hand. Despite the slightly bewildered expression Kyoya now wears, Kaoru does not blink.

"Did you throw a sock ball at me?"

"Do you like Nanako-chan?"

"Kaoru…" Kyoya's tone is the stuff lost patience and exasperation are made of. "My question is clearly a statement, while your question is leaving me with more inquiries than answers."

Kaoru's irritated, Kyoya knows, and he knows the wait for their next flight has nothing to do with it. If anything, it's the way that the two of them have quietly been building a personal rapport that made Kaoru's company something of a comfort. Perhaps under different circumstances, even a delight.

"I know," Kaoru's words slip through bated breaths as he starts, "you backed out of that flight because your father paid for it. I know you want something new. And I mean no insult to him or your brothers when I say that this weekend you just looked like you were so done with them."

Kyoya nods, unoffended because to start, Kaoru is not wrong, but more importantly on account that this truth is coming from him.

"But Nanako?" A small laugh escapes insecure lips, "She's amazing. She's intelligent, impulsive, and beautiful and knows all of that about herself. And she allowed you to humble her. That girl is amazing."

From where he sits on the floor, several yards away from Kaoru, Kyoya is certain he can see him shaking. And perhaps worse than the careless shards of truth he's gleaned from his father, this is an entirely different brand of hurt. It burns.

The words come slowly; so slow that Kyoya chooses to gather his things and move closer, instead. It's mere seconds, but is somehow enough time to garner what he needs.

"I do want something new." Shoving the socks back into Kaoru's hand, Kyoya chooses to linger instead of extracting his touch. "I'll go along with them for now, because I have to. But it won't be much longer before my decisions are entirely my own."

Frustrating as the circumstances may be, it's endearing to see Kaoru like this. And if Kyoya is being entirely honest with himself—which he's been working on—it's also rather flattering.

"As for Nanako-san," he continues, "The thought of me pursuing her company beyond this weekend would be an absolute fool's errand."

Kaoru smiles weakly at this, though he does take advantage of the opportunity to lean into Kyoya's touch. There is comfort to be had in the realization that his affections have not been misplaced, and it's enough to fortify Kaoru's confidence in himself to remain a patient man.

The way in which Kyoya gathers Kaoru's hand into his own, cradling and considering the palm that now sits open on his lap, is simply the most decadent, delicious icing that could be put on the cake.