YOU HAVE REACHED YAOI CORNER! I have never written Yaoi before and actually have no idea as to what the actual feelings would be... I haven't a penis! lol. If you've gotten this far and are willing to read, I would love any suggestions or critiques you may have! Anything to improve! (Just please, no rudeness. I'll cry! You CAN tell me why you don't like it though, I enjoy details. :] )
These are just scene(s) that I played with while suffering writer's block, BL 'Lost Chapter(s)' if you will, and not actually a part of the story, though... I did try to tie it(them) in as such... Just for continuation fluidity. As for your confusion at the parenthesis depicting more than one scene... It's because I may or may not add a scene or two more.
Disclaimer I do NOT own Ouran High School Host Club or its characters/places/etc., Bisco Hatori does.
~.~.~.~.~.TAMAKYO.~.~.~.~.~
His attentions had been lacking since a particularly cogent call from his generally silent senpai. Blurring into an incessant monotonous drone, the chatter of the students and teacher were nothing but background static to the thoughts racing through his own mind; between the tedious number-crunching and annotations required of the company, he also had another very pressing issue, priority among his priorities: Haruhi, and the possible return of her memories.
Holding her to his chest that evening, looking into her serene sleep-entranced features, he had vowed that she would never know such torment again; the loneliness nor the helplessness that had been thrust upon her during her torture. He would dig, put forth all the power in his name to secure her well-being, her happiness. Though now, Haruhi being on the very brink between blissful ignorance and traumatic recollection had left him prostrate, exposed and debilitated. What good would be his vows if he couldn't keep her mind at bay, if he couldn't shield her from the awful images of her and their past; of all the horrible things they had put her through, that their negligency had bestowed upon her.
The lights were far too bright, the clamor and hum of the classroom like sharp stabbing electrical heat attacking his brain; his head felt heavy, swollen and throbbing with every intense beat of his heart. The muscles at his nape felt like pebbles upon stone, and his eyes felt as if they were bulging from the sockets. He needed to leave the room, the noise, for a moment to pause his thoughts and only allow one thing at a time.
Without a word, he stood from his seat, painfully nodding his leave to the puzzled sensei, as he strode through the room and door, all of his belongings within the bag upon his shoulder. He wouldn't miss this day of school, he made it long enough to collect the syllabus and to be counted in attendance. Pulse thundering through his head with shocks of white-hot at every beat of his heart and every nauseating jolting step, somehow he had made it to the Music Room Three to collapse onto the first couch, a thin sheen of cold sweat glimmering on his cool skin.
Tamaki had entered only a few moments later, having witnessed the staggering tread of his generally composed friend, he had followed disquieted. Now, as he stood silently absorbing the worn countenance of the raven-haired teen, pale and beaded with perspiration, he forewent the light switch and huddled into the kitchenette on his toes, to fix the boy some soothing tea and grab some medicine to ease the migraine that he knew was befalling the laid-out shadow king, ready to listen to whatever he knew was ailing the usually fiercely competent and confident vice president.
Gently, the cups, teapot and capsules upon a rounded platter, were taken to the table before the occupied couch, silently set upon the smooth surface as the tall blonde knelt before the garnet velour and golden painted furniture, while a condoling hand laid upon the slumped shoulder. Obsidian peered through agonized slits behind gleaming frames to the tender amethyst amongst a concerned smile as an elegant hand gestured to the steaming setup.
"Here, take this and drink." Tentatively lulled, Tamaki offered his aid. "Then, we can talk about what's bothering you, mon ami."
Kyoya nursed his pounding head with a palm, trying to gracefully maneuver his lithe body into a proper sitting position. Tamaki was there in an instant to steady him, though Kyoya growled in frustration at feeling so small. It was far too humbling to be exposed in his time of weakness, so he swatted the boy's hands away. The jerking motion served only to jog his throbbing brain and he grimaced, burrowing further into the sanctuary of his trembling phalanges.
Fingertips pressed familiar white pills to his lips, a thin powdery film rubbed onto the frowning mouth, unsure of how to move without causing more pain.
"Just open your mouth, Kyoya. Let me take care of you for once." The blonde cooed, observing the crumpled boy with a softly narrowed gaze and he smiled once the boy complied. Tamaki took care to push the pills in far enough as not to fall when he removed his finger, yet had to surpress a sudden shudder at the moist warmth and downy caress of Kyoya's lips as they slid against the pad of his digit.
Every nerve had been awakened with that transient moment, the feel of the air conditioner kicking on felt like artic wind skimming across his scorching flesh, tickling it with feathers and then heating it with a slow bath of warm water.
Dazed, he reached for the cooled cup of tea, letting the tiny shiver play along his spine as he worked to regulate his breathing. The smooth polished surface of the cup proved an interesting sensation with his piqued mindset; completely dry, yet it felt moist and slick, mildly temped, and for some reason brought a rosy tint to his cheeks.
"Mon ami," In the same soft tone, Tamaki's voice caressed the pained shadow king, yet the aching jibes were starting to ebb. Though, Kyoya was neither in any condition to deny service nor speak at all, for that matter. "Keep your eyes closed so that you don't get dizzy, and just follow my direction, okay? Put your hands down, I've got you."
One hand gingerly held the teacup and the other gripped the ailing teen's chin tenderly between thumb and forefinger. The pad of his thunb brushed lightly over Kyoya's bottom lip before slipping the edge of porcelain into the seam.
"Drink. I won't let it spill." Such a calm and delicate command, the raven-haired teen was finding it difficult to resist following, even if it meant looking pathetic. He began to sip at the liquid, loving the feel of his throat opening and the bitterness of the medicine being swept from his tongue in a fragrant wash of ginger, lemongrass, and mint.
There was no one to witness such a scene and only he held the merit. Not having to lift a finger, he had received both medicinal relief and tea. Not only that, but he didn't even need to prepare it! His only plans were to escape the pain, to rest a little until the stabbing pulsations disappeared, and yet, it had only been ten minutes and his maladies were dissipating rapidly. One last gulp led to an empty cup.
His ebony lashes fanning at his cheeks, striking like glittering onyx and ivory accentuated with his plumply parted lips and the elegantly sharp structure of his face were enough to draw the oxygen from Tamaki's lungs and his heart skip a beat. This was a beautiful creature. Definitely worthy of his position of host, and in light of trying to remain positive, of spreading that positivity, he chose to show his admiration in hopes to draw out that optimism. To get the calculative teen to take a break, he let himself lead with his body and his mind would catch up if it needed to, a lesson he thought Kyoya could take something from for later necessity.
He was so close to his friend, that the breaths he took both warmed and cooled his cheeks, he could feel the heat of the boy's mouth upon his own lips, tickling at his senses as his lungs quaked with frazzled need for more air and a fire set a trail from his navel to his thigh. A painless blaze that prickled his skin and surged to his groin with every pulse, like a throbbing inferno that sped his heart in demanding beats.
Fluttering, his own eyes shut as he lowered his mouth to Kyoya's, plump and downy, he cautiously gauged the teen's reactions with tender passes, massaging him with an exploratory fervor until he couldn't take any more. He intensified the kiss, his hunger growing to maddening levels, his flesh was invigorated as a hand reached to stroke at his nape and fist at his mane.
He was thrown to the cushions without warning, the velvet working to torment the blonde prince into ecstasy. No longer in control of the kiss, he was being dominated with a provacative bruising force, spreading him with a strong tongue and forcing a willing entrance. Tamaki moaned into his captor, as the boy fought with and devoured his sounds, tasted him, controlled him. He was like a puppet and Kyoya the marionette.
Without prompting, his hands moved on their own as they broke from the kiss, both in desperate need of air, the violet-eyed blonde pushed for control once more, knocking the shadow king to the seat with a flat palm while the other made short work of Kyoya's pants.
Falling to the side of Tamaki, he sat back, just letting the sensations fill him. The blonde's swollen plliable lips were at his neck, the frantic ministrations making his hair stand on end with building tension, his breath coming in shallow pants as the boy's slick pink muscle worked unnamed shapes to his derma. The feeling was an electric storm of ice and flames ravishing his flesh.
Tamaki's hands drove to free Kyoya from the last thin fabric barrier, running an open palm and fingertips along the hot, throbbing velour, gasping cool air at the lust-intoxicated teen's sensitized crook. He pulled back to look at his handiwork, the light sheen of perspiration glittered against the boy's flesh as a small bead trailed from his brow over flushed cheek to his lips, Kyoya's tongue darted to catch the salted liquid and Tamaki growled low in his throat, a need to taste the cool-type growing into a sheer desparation.
Scrambling to a kneel before the ebony-haired teen, he gripped the rigid member at the base, small curls tickling his palm and puffing from between his fingers on one hand while the other worked to free himself of his uniform. With swollen lips he circled the head along ridge, dragging his tongue around in trail. A moaning hiss sounded from above, and his hand massaged the tip of his own shaft as he dipped to take Kyoya into his velvetty warmth. He matched his strokes with every gliding suckle, massaging the head with a swirling tongue when he hit top, taking the shadow king deep, swallowing and gripping the boy tight with his throat at every down.
He was writhing against his own grinding palm, bucking with every gurgled mew, Kyoya's airy grunts spurring him on as his pace sped. Each pump gaining a jerking thrust from the man in front of him, his eyes closed in ecstacy and hands fisted tightly in his dark tresses. Tamaki could feel that familiar tightening in his scrotum as all his muscles began to tense, the other teen's hips were at a constant raise, joining him on the brink of an ambrosial hinderance coming to a shattering end.
Palming his pulsing tip, he caught the hot pulses of his seed as his tongue worked to coax Kyoya's spilling down in a single swallow.
Tamaki released the other boy and pulled from his shaft, stuffing his softening manhood into his trousers and searching his pockets wildly for his handkerchief. As he busied himself clearing away the mess and running amidst deep huffs to wash it away without a backwards glance, Kyoya righted his clothes and poured himself another cup of tea while he willed his breathing to regulate and heart to slow.
When the blonde emerged from the kitchenette, his amethyst eyes were lined in a kind of sadness, an apology on his lips and the cool-type just regarded his trudging form behind the rim of the cup with unreadable features. The air was so thick, it was getting hard to breathe as the pause drew on in silence.
"We'll never speak of this." He managed to speak rather than croak and Tamaki visibly relaxed at the statement blowing a short sigh of relief, as if the raven-haired teen had read his mind and in his benevolence decided to grant him a wish. "Now that my headache is gone, back at the topic at hand..." Kyoya went on to detail his phone call with a particular wild-type, and throwing in his own ideas about the possibility, hoping to gain insight from the blonde teen.
"So, he thinks she's starting to remember..." Tamaki shut his eyes as he allowed the disturbing information settle, breathing deeply as if each intake would make the information just go away, before allowing his eyes to settle back upon his friend; sitting with his head cradled in his hand, glasses perched upon the cardinal velvet arm of the couch, raven locks draped over and brushing along his knuckles. The blonde sighed, knowing that they both knew the only course of action.
"Kyoya, they are her memories. Even as horrible they are, at least they have been held off as long as they were... And, she has us." Kyoya gave a mirthless chuckle. It was a similar statement that he himself had recited. It didn't make this situation any less trying, though.
At this point, he was grasping at whatever positivity he could, coming up nearly as blank as the youngest Ohtori. Snaking a restless hand through his fair mane, he blew a defeated breath.
"I won't lie to her if she questions me," raising from his hunched posture and idly replacing his frames, the cool-type stared out into the dim atmosphere, "though, I doubt I'll ever be able to give her detail. I couldn't watch her face as I explain specifics. Honestly, Tamaki, I don't think I could handle seeing the pain reflected in her eyes."
"...Or to relive her throwing us out of her life." The blonde gave a sad smile to the darkened profile of his comrade. "...I know."