Tamaki was a straightforward, sincere, chivalrous and thickheaded boy. He was raised in France and learned the art of romance, and there was always a rush of triumph when he saw a woman's eyes and knew he had won.
The game of romance was far removed from love. He had never really noticed the problem.
He drank in the sight of her and wondered what this new, hot feeling was.
Kyouya wore a wax doll's face to cover his heart. It was instinctual.
After he had become friends with Tamaki, the wax has been clawed away by curious fingers until his heart itself was bloody and torn.
All things heal.
Kyouya's heart healed around the intruder. But Tamaki had ripped himself free again.
What was Kyouya expected to do?
What else could he do? Only wear his mask and forget.
The mattress was covered by silk sheets.
And the symmetrically nude boys between said sheets were grinning.
"Hikaru, the lady at Mom's work was right!" Kaoru purred.
"Silk sheets feel amazing against freshly shaven skin," Hikaru agreed.
They lay in content silence, until Hikaru shifted uncomfortably.
"A bit itchy, though," he commented, not bothered enough to get out of the bed.
Kaoru shrugged and suggested, "Maybe she meant our legs."
Mori knew this burning. He lived with it every day.
The only thing that made it go away was to play with his Mitsukuni and watch him smile.
But if he watched Mitsukuni's frown as the blond trained his martial arts, or he noticed the occasional lucid, sharp, brutal understanding in the pretty blue eyes…
Mori knew this burning. And someday Mitsukuni's smile wouldn't be enough for it to stop.
Hunny was a boy. He tried not to understand things like a man.
What he understood was simple: when you don't ever want to spend a moment apart from someone, and you can spend your whole life with them (to date), that is what love is.
So, he loved Takashi.
He told all of his clients and they called him cute. That was a good reaction.
Next, he told Takashi.
Haruhi was coming down with something. At random times, her nerves would start prickling and her hands would start to tremble. It was getting to be a problem.
It never happened when she was in class, or at home doing homework, which was a blessing. But holding a cup of tea steady was getting more and more difficult.
And it usually meant that Tamaki was somewhere in the room.
Weird.