LIKE A MARRIED COUPLE

It's silly, Tamaki thinks, as he watches Kyouya at the laptop, fingers hovering just a second above each key as he typed out words and worked on their day's profit. The others are scattered about the club room and are minding their own business, leaving their King alone for the time being and just tending to themselves. Because bothering their King while he was in such deep thought would not provoke any sort of reaction out of him rather the reaction would be from the shadow king.

When the dark haired boy pushed up glasses and glinted the natural light off the lenses all form of teasing would stop. It was warning enough and Kyouya never needed to verbally warn them.

Except the twins. Those two always seemed to need a warning in some form or another.

And it's only minutes before the others start to file out–Hikaru and Kaoru with Haruhi, going to head to her home and help her with English and Physics homework, while Mori and Hunny would head back to their own homes.

Tamaki did not notice the sudden absence of the others. His attention was far too focused on his best friend and the calm expression on that face. It amazed him how that cold expression could turn calm, how those usually blank eyes–hidden behind glasses to keep the world from seeing what he feels–held a small spark of amusement in them. It was probably from their sales that day, the blond believed.

And he wondered just for a second what Kyouya would do if was ever asked to be married.

Not by a woman but by Tamaki himself.

Their relationship was an odd one; Kyouya held no qualms against being called 'mother' or 'mommy' whenever the blond seemed to let those two names slip out, and Kyouya had no trouble calling the blond 'father', either. They had been best friend for two years (give or take a few months) and just being around one another was comfortable enough. Tamaki could read Kyouya almost as good as Kyouya could read him–though Kyouya, who was Kyouya, always read Tamaki a bit better than the blond read him. They bickered constantly, and not in front of the others either. Their fights were usually when the others were nowhere around--Tamaki had said, "The children shouldn't see their parents acting like this! What kind of example would we put on them?"–and Kyouya often wondered about their fights.

It was over stupid little things. Nothing serious had ever come up between them. Not yet.

And these fights would end in Tamaki looking like dejected puppy while Kyouya just smirked to himself. The Shadow King always won. The King always apologized with big, wet, watery puppy eyes. Kyouya would just stare and, with a sigh and tiny smile (so small that Tamaki often missed it) accept the apology and all would be forgotten.

"We're like a married couple..."

Words that had not been made to say were said and the blond only noticed this error when curious gray eyes met his soft violet gaze. The typing stopped and there was a long silence, a deafening sort of silence, and the two boys just stared at one another; the blond one with a soft pink hue to his cheeks and the ebony haired one with an arched brow and curious eyes.

"What was that, Tamaki...?"

The question broke the silence and the blond flailed inwardly, leaning away from the direction of the voice he turned his gaze away. Up to the ceiling and stared at the patterns, tracing them with and embarrassed gaze.

"Tamaki."

The blond only made a non-committed sound in the back of his throat, trying to dismiss that awkward curiosity with a shrug of the shoulders. It was not important, his words. They were, after all, just an accidental slip of thought and something that Kyouya should not worry himself over. Or become curious over.

Because the slip of the tongue was just a Tamaki-like-thing. The vice president should know that and let it brush aside as if it was nothing.

"Tamaki." A pause, the sound of a chair scratching across tile, and foot steps. "Answer me, Tamaki. This silence is not like you."

If it had been any other sort of mistaken slip of tongue the blond would have babbled it away, made it seem like nothing had been said before. But this was different and Kyouya would not drop the subject and it only made Tamaki flush a deeper shade of red and, once again, divert his gaze from Kyouya's.

He was embarrassed. Shy and being very stubborn.

"It was nothing, Kyouya," the blond replied, staring at the wall at the far side of the room and frowned just a bit. Was there a spot on the wall? And, if so, when in the world did it get there?

"Aah, don't brush it off that easily, Tamaki."

The couch dipped to the sudden weight being put on it and blond found himself tipping to the side, surprised by Kyouya's presence being so close and it was the reaction of gravity. But he stopped the tipping and straightened himself, clearing his throat a little and keeping his gaze off of Kyouya and trained to something else.

Like that damn spot on the wall.

"I'm brushing nothing off easily, mother."

A sweet little lie that Kyouya would not take. Kyouya did not bite at Tamaki's lies too often and this was one he would not–would never–bite at.

Reaching out the bespectacled boy took his friend's face between his hands and turned that smooth-skinned, too perfect face to him. Wide eyes and a mouth parted in an 'o' shape was his reward and Kyouya could only smirk a bit. "Now, you will keep your eyes on me and tell me what it is that has you ignoring me so much."

Once Kyouya was curious nothing would hold him back. Especially when this curiosity was induced by Tamaki.

"I... I told you... It's nothing."

"And this 'nothing' is something I do not believe." A pause. "Now, tell me, Tamaki, because you know how well my hearing is."

The blond could only frown a bit more and fidget as his friend drew closer, their face just inches apart and oh god the proximity made Tamaki shiver involuntarily. The reaction seemed to please Kyouya.

"I was just thinking, that's all. My thoughts must have slipped out on accident because–"

"You think of us a married couple." Kyouya tilted his head just an inch to the side and Tamaki felt himself die a little on the inside from the action. A good little-death that is. He rarely saw Kyouya use cute sort of mannerisms.

All Tamaki could do was nod in affirmation to his finished sentence and try to let his eyes slip away from Kyouya's gaze but he just couldn't. Those eyes had softened a bit and carried a mirth in them that the blond just had trouble placing. In a way Kyouya almost looked...happy.

Not the faux-happy he put up to the customers and the other hosts.

But a real happy.

It made Tamaki's heart skip a beat and he swallowed. Now what? What was he supposed to do? All coherent thoughts were out of his head and his brain just wasn't working and is Kyouya's face getting closer...?

It was, and before another thought could even form in the blond's head there were soft lips against his own and, now, he had no clue what to do. Kyouya was kissing him. Kyouya, his best friend, was kissing him. Kyouya, third son to the Ootori family, was kissing Tamaki, the only heir to the Suoh name.

And when Kyouya pulled away, eyes still closed and breath coming out harder than before, Tamaki could not keep the thought of We are just like a married couple. from entering his mind nor keep that big, bright, happy smile from appearing.

If actions were louder than words than Kyouya's action put Tamaki's thoughts to rest because, just by kissing him, he was confirming those silly thoughts. And confirming those thoughts made Tamaki very, very happy.