A/N: I return from the grave with an Ouran HSHC fic! I love the dynamic between Kyouya and Tamaki, so I decided to write a little something about them. I listened to Landon Pigg's Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop on an almost constant loop while writing this, so listening to it while you read may set the mood a bit better. You can, however, forgo this, since it's the author's job to set the mood anyway. :] This is a little feel-good thing I've been meaning to write, so please enjoy and leave your feedback.

Disclaimer: Ouran High School Host Club and its characters (c) Hatori Bisco

Coffee Shop

The snow fell gently outside, muffling the sounds of traffic as inside, Kyouya sat and sipped his cup of coffee.

Tamaki was late. Not surprising, considering his flighty nature, but earlier that day Tamaki had assured Kyouya that he knew exactly where the shop was and would be exactly on time, so his non-arrival was enough to make Kyouya stir the cream into his coffee with a little more irritation than normal.

But no, he was not really irritated. Although his body exhibited all the usual signs of slight annoyance, Kyouya was, in fact, quite at peace. It was the first day of the winter break, making it possible for even him to allow himself a bit of a break. Tomorrow, homework. Today, coffee, Tamaki, and his fanciful designs.

Kyouya lifted the warm cup to his lips and drank deeply. The coffee at this commoner's shop was actually quite good, the cream was fresh and the sugar, a sparkling perfection all its own. He would actually consider coming here more often if the location was not so remote. Even his driver had had a bit of trouble finding the place, and being employed by the Ootoris for as long as he had made him a difficult man to stump.

Absently, Kyouya checked his watch between sips. Tamaki was now twenty-three minutes late. He told himself that he would wait another seven, then leave while making sure to pointedly leave a note indicating his intolerance to being kept waiting. Tamaki would show up, of that he was certain. It was only a matter of when.

This decision made, these silent mental remarks about both the coffee shop and Tamaki jotted down into the pure white notepaper of his mind, Kyouya sat back and allowed the shop's peaceful atmosphere to mellow his mood into one of vague contentment.

"Kyouya!"

And there he was, bursting exuberantly into the small shop like a flock of doves, his golden hair as noticeable in this space as in any other public venue. Kyouya did not bother waving Tamaki over to the table, knowing that he had already been spotted. He did watch as Tamaki paused for a moment to shake the snow from his expensive-looking jacket, but he looked away, deep into his cup, as his friend came forward.

Tamaki sat himself eagerly down in the chair opposite Kyouya's, his bare hands hitting the tabletop with the same zeal exhibited in his spectacular entrance.

"Kyouya, you came! I knew I was right to choose this place! I had the feeling that the exotic allure of this charming commoner's shop would entice you out here, whether you knew it or not."

Kyouya almost snorted into his coffee, but managed to hold it in by taking a careful sip instead. Only then did he look up at Tamaki, who sat looking at him, beaming. Kyouya saw that past their table, behind Tamaki, several of the shop's patrons had turned in their seats to look at them. In the other corner of the room, two girls whispered to each other, their body language signalling their obvious awareness of the boy who had just entered. No matter, soon even their interest would wane. He dismissed them from his mind after these summary observations, focusing on Tamaki instead.

"Well?" Kyouya said.

"Well, what?" Tamaki said.

Kyouya rolled his eyes at him, his lips still poised over the rim of his cup. He noted with certain dismay that it was almost empty. Tamaki then seemed to remember the purpose of his invitation, which he indicated with an exaggerated start and a flash of his usual sunny smile.

"Oh. Oh yes, of course!"

He backed up his chair to allow himself more room and pulled his shoulder bag onto his lap. Kyouya downed the last of his coffee, wondering if perhaps he should shelve his pride and ask for a second cup.

"Et voilà! I've been working on these all night."

Tamaki withdrew a sheaf of papers from his bag and placed them on the table with a theatrical flourish, rotating them so that Kyouya could read the handwritten scrawl right-side up.

"Read them and tell me what you think," Tamaki said excitedly, leaning forward in his seat to peer at Kyouya with bright eyes.

Deciding to forgo seconds, Kyouya carefully placed his cup down in its saucer and picked up the papers. The first page comprised of mostly doodles, figures and shapes that probably held no meaning to anyone other than Tamaki, although some of the chicken scratch did resemble words. Every line of text was crossed out several times, the last one scribbled across as though in frustration; Kyouya could not read any of the lines properly.

He set this page aside on the table and perused the second one, which turned out to be a list topped by the stylishly but messily penned title "Rules of A Gentleman's Conduct". Below the title were the rules as Tamaki evidently saw them. Kyouya skimmed the page, taking in phrases like "always honour a lady" and "stay in check". The bottom title, equally as lavish as the top one, read "Appear beautifully, speak beautifully, serve beautifully".

The third page proved even more baffling than the last: Kyouya found a list of sweets, in alphabetical order, ranging from cakes and custards to fine candies and deluxe chocolates. Numbers were scribbled beside the name of each item. A corner of the page held the notice: "Not sure about prices, refer to Haninozuka-senpai. Kyouya to administrate."

Feeling a quiet dread at the manner in which Tamaki had already implicated him in this affair, Kyouya skimmed through the rest of the pages, placing them one on top of the other on the table as he went through them. As Tamaki's notes progressed, more lists and more observations and more queries came through, each adding to the decadence and strangeness of whatever he was planning with such diligence.

Finally, after several long minutes of silently going through Tamaki's writing, Kyouya dropped the last page of notepaper onto the table, where it fell on top of its fellows, slightly askew. Tamaki was staring at him expectantly, shine in his eyes, triumph in his smile.

"Well? What do you think?" he asked immediately, obviously craving his response. "It's good, isn't it! Isn't it good?"

"Tamaki."

"Yes?"

"You are unfathomable."

"Unfathoma–..."

"Tamaki, what are these? Plans? For what exactly?"

He expected Tamaki's smile to falter somehow, but his expression became no less luminous when faced with Kyouya's questions. He placed his palms down on the tabletop and sat up straighter, all aglow with pride and happiness.

"Kyouya, don't you remember? It's for the club. The club we're going to start together."

"The club?"

"The club, yes."

"And..." Kyouya cast his gaze down at the papers on the table, collecting all the information in his mind, trying to make some sense out of it. "...this club is about?"

Tamaki paused before answering, as though to increase the dramatic effect of the question that hung in the air. Then he said, "I guess I didn't make it clear enough before. Simply put, it is a host club."

Kyouya could not help staring at Tamaki at this revelation. He wished dearly for a second cup of coffee after all.

Tamaki burst out laughing suddenly. It was a gentle sound, not too loud in the quiet, pleasant atmosphere, but it garnered the attention of several other customers just as his initial appearance had. Then he stood, swiftly, gracefully, and leaving Kyouya alone and slightly stunned at the table, strode to the counter. Kyouya heard him say "A hazelnut coffee for me and another for my friend, please", to which the girl at the cash smiled and nodded before busying herself at the far counter with their order. A moment passed, and Tamaki returned with the drinks. He placed them carefully down on the table and gently pushed one by the saucer across to Kyouya.

"Drink up," he said quietly, using that strange, far-off quiet that Kyouya had only heard a few times. "I'm paying for everything, after all."

Kyouya took up the cup and sipped, liking the taste more and more. Across from him, Tamaki was doing the same.

Kyouya glanced down at the notes piled in front of him. Of course, he remembered hearing Tamaki talk this nonsense about the club they would start, this host club of Ouran Academy, but he had not truly believed him to be serious. After all, what kind of idiot would try and start a host club within a high school? He had figured that although enlivened by the idea at first, Tamaki would proceed to be swept off by some other flight of fancy, leaving his old fantasies behind to fade into nothing.

It seemed he had been mistaken.

Careful to not let any of these thoughts show through, Kyouya drank his coffee and said, "You don't have to do that."

"Do what, Kyouya?"

"Pay for me."

"I asked you out here, so it's only fair. After all, I'm also taking up your precious time and I know how much you hate for anyone to do that."

What he felt may have been a stab of frustration, or affection. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, this is a shop, not a high-class bistro. I already paid for my first drink at the counter."

Tamaki laughed again, softly this time, so that only Kyouya could hear. He drank, licked his lips, and set the cup down, reaching up to adjust the collar of his fur-trimmed jacket. He gestured toward the plans, the excited spark returning to his eyes.

"So? What do you think about my ideas? It's just a start, really, and I know it's not very clear yet, but last night I was so struck with inspiration that I absolutely had to write everything down."

Kyouya nodded, though not really acquiescing. The corner of the third page caught his eye again.

"And this Haninozuka-senpai...he's..."

"He's the captain of the judo club. I heard he enjoys sweets and desserts, so I'm sure he'd be a good reference for this sort of thing."

"I see." Of course, he had already known all this, but it was surprising to discover that Tamaki did as well.

"Yes. As I told you before, I'm going to recruit him into the club, as well as his cousin Morinozuka-senpai."

"And there are the twins. The Hitachiins."

Tamaki's smile was radiant. He was clearly pleased that Kyouya remembered this much of their previous conversation. "Yes, that's right. Their names are Hikaru and Kaoru, though I'm still not sure which is which. I guess I'll ask them when I meet them."

"I...I see."

Suou. Ootori. Haninozuka. Morinozuka. Hitachiin. He was beginning to see a pattern, but was Tamaki?

"Tamaki, about these people..."

"Yes? A fine bunch, right?"

"Very fine. The finest, in fact, which is exactly what strikes me as odd."

"Odd?"

"No, not so much 'odd' as 'highly coincidental'. You are aware that all of these families are among the most prestigious around here? Yours, mine, the senpais', those second years'...all famous, powerful families."

Tamaki tipped his head slightly to one side at Kyouya's inference, as though he suspected something was amiss but was not quite sure what.

"Elite families, one could say," Kyouya added for effect. "All under the roof of one club."

Tamaki grinned. "Yes, Kyouya."

"Do you realize what that means?"

"Yes, Kyouya."

"Do you really? What will people think of such an association?"

"Well, I'm hoping they will find it intriguing. In that sense, it would increase interest in the club, and attract more customers."

"What...customers? What are you talking about?"

Tamaki sighed then, tapping the fingernail of one index finger on the side of his cup. In a patient, almost parental voice, he said, "Kyouya, do you know what a host club is?"

The information swiftly traversing his mind was all about sin: drinks and dimly lit places and lecherous smiles. Stiffly, he said, "Of course I do. So you can understand why I think this is a bad idea."

"No, no, no. It's an excellent idea. And with a few modifications to the well-known public system, we can transform it into something fit for an elite school such as ours."

"So, what? We're going to sit around serving drinks and chatting?"

"Something like that," Tamaki admitted, so that Kyouya's expression tightened. "But say we replace drinks by tea and cake, and low-grade men with first-class gentlemen. That is what we are going to do. Ensconced in the warm, inviting parlours of the club, the young ladies who come timidly to our sides will be rewarded with the most elegant of companies, the most chivalrous of men, and the sweetest of fantasies!"

He took an enthusiastic gulp of coffee as though to add the final punctuation to his sentence, and set the cup down in its saucer with a satisfied smile. Kyouya had not touched his coffee again out of shock.

"Well?" Tamaki asked again. "Is it not wonderful?"

"It's..." Kyouya cleared his throat, stared down at his cup, stared at the plans, stared at Tamaki. "It's...lofty."

"Certainly. But we can do it. I know we can."

"You may think so, but how are we going to get the school to accept a club like this?"

"Already taken care of. My father thinks it's a great idea and gives us his full support."

"Your fa–...really."

"Yes! And if you're wondering about the clubroom, don't worry. I took the liberty of escorting myself around the high school building the other day after classes, and found a music room that apparently hasn't been used in some time. It's the perfect location."

"So you sneaked in the high school building and snooped around?" Somehow, Kyouya was not the least bit surprised. Tamaki, at least, had the good grace to look sheepish.

"Oh, uh...essentially, yes. But that's not important! What's important right now is that we have almost everything we need to get this thing started."

"Ah. And what have you left to collect? Flyers advertising our venue? Or perhaps the teenage son of that wealthy hotel chain manager to add to our ranks?"

"Oh, Kyouya, you know that there's no wealthier hotel manager than my father. No, what I mean is..."

He paused, bending forward to lean his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. His lips were still curved into a smile, but the smile was different, less brilliant than the earlier ones he had worn in anticipation of his own thundering success. This smile was softer, more humble, and somehow beseeching.

"What I need right now, Kyouya," he said in the gentlest tone Kyouya had ever heard from him. "You see, I...I need your okay for this. Your go-ahead."

"My approval?"

"Yes. Because, you see, mon ami...this can't happen without you."

The smile seemed to melt a little, softening with a kind of tenderness that made his words ring as true as they ever could. He reached up with one hand, across the table, and placed the tips of his fingers on Kyouya's wrist. Kyouya resisted the urge to glance down at their point of contact, choosing instead to hold Tamaki's unwavering gaze.

"Tamaki, what are you saying? How could I possibly be essential to your little operation?"

"Well, other than the fact that I want you to act as a host within the club, I also expect you to...no, actually, I expect you to want to handle all of the administrative affairs."

Kyouya to administrate. He had been right in suspecting his role in all this. But Tamaki was still talking, talking slowly and with a deliberation that suggested he had thought long and hard about this moment.

"I know how much you want to perform within your father's company, and how much you want your skills to be recognized. I think you're an excellent administrator, Kyouya. I know you are. So now I'm going to make it so that everyone knows...including your father."

"Tamaki..."

"You deserve that place, Kyouya. You do. And I have no doubt that some day, you're going to take it. But in the mean time..." He smiled wider, allowing his normal everyday smile to shine through. "...you can lend your skills to me. How does that sound?"

Kyouya did not respond for a long time. Neither of them moved, so for those long moments during which Kyouya reflected on his friend's words and Tamaki waited, Tamaki did not remove his fingers from Kyouya's wrist. The warmth resonated between them almost in the same way as Tamaki's words did, bathing them in a glow that Kyouya now found familiar and welcome; it was this aura of Tamaki, the soft, pleasant, warm, sometimes shy and uncertain private aura that drove Kyouya to his decision, more so, even, than the prospect of honing his skills in this particular field, although this Tamaki would never know.

Finally, after minutes had passed and the coffee had had time to get cold, Kyouya tipped his head slightly and said, "All right."

Tamaki perked up immediately. "All right?"

"All right. Yes. I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Yes, Tamaki. I'll administrate your club."

"And act as a host?"

"I...yes. I suppose I will."

"Great! Excellent! Je le savais!"

He expected Tamaki to jump from his seat and make a spectacle of himself in his apparent joy, but Tamaki did no such thing. Instead, he moved his hand on top of Kyouya's and squeezed it warmly, dipping his head in a way that suggested he may be touched by Kyouya's approval.

"All right," Tamaki repeated in a murmur. "All right, all right."

"Tamaki?"

"All right!" Tamaki said with finality. He raised his head and took away his hand. Kyouya found he missed the warmth, but said nothing about it. He only picked up his cup and gulped down the dregs of his second coffee. Tamaki was grinning again, radiant in his white winter jacket, glowing with a happiness so pure and infectious that Kyouya just had to smile too.

"You'll see, Kyouya," Tamaki told him in a tone that spoke volumes of his gratitude and care toward Kyouya. "You'll see, it will all work out and it will be wonderful. We're going to start this and then we're all going to become great friends."

"Friends. Yes. That sounds fine." He felt no need to point out that the others had not actually accepted his invitations yet, because surely Tamaki had thought of this already. Kyouya was learning that his friend was not as dim-witted and careless as he had originally thought.

Tamaki sighed with contentment. "Great. Wonderful. Thank you."

" 'Thank you'? Why are you thanking me?"

"Oh." Tamaki was rising, as though ready to leave. He had already stowed his plans back in his bag, and was slinging the bag over his shoulder. He adjusted the collar, the hood of his jacket as though embarrassed and stalling for time.

"Oh. Well. Thank you, I suppose, for agreeing to do this with me. For helping me fulfill this 'lofty' goal, as you called it."

Seeing that the meeting was nearing its end, Kyouya stood as well and pulled on his own jacket, slipping on his leather gloves in anticipation of the outside cold. He could not help but smile minutely at Tamaki's sudden reserve.

"And what goal is that, Tamaki?" he asked.

Tamaki did not answer right away as he bid the cashier girl farewell and led Kyouya out of the shop. Outside, the snow was falling thicker than before, but with a gentleness that lent the softest quality to the flakes floating slowly down from the sky.

Tamaki stood with his hands in his pockets, looking serenely up at the greying sky, his breath forming puffs of cloudy white condensation in front of him. Kyouya watched him, still waiting for his answer.

Finally, Tamaki said, "My goal is to make all the girls in the world happy."

Kyouya's eyes widened at the admission, and he exhaled a breath that clouded like steam in the frosty air.

"All of them?"

"You're right. 'All the girls in the world' is a bit too lofty. I suppose I could just work on making all the girls at Ouran smile."

Tamaki smiled himself, gently again, and turned to look at Kyouya with blue eyes that shone with delight at the prospect of so many smiles.

"Well!" he said, loudly and cheerfully. "Are you coming?"

"Coming? Coming where?"

"Weren't you paying attention on the phone? I said I wanted to go around town with you today. I found a lot of great commoner's shops that I wanted to show you!"

"But...the drivers..."

"Don't need them! Every place is within walking distance, so come on!"

He reached out and grabbed Kyouya by the fabric of his jacket sleeve, yanking him forward so that he had no choice but to fall in step with Tamaki, who was already striding off with his usual irrational exuberance. Ahead of them, parked by the curb, was the Ootori-owned vehicle that Kyouya had arrived in, diligently awaiting the return of its master.

"Kyouya, come on!"

"Wait..."

"No time to waste!"

"Tamaki, wait a moment! Tachibana."

The driver rolled down the window as Kyouya paused to stoop in front of the glass. The man seemed surprised, but not overly so.

Kyouya said, "Tachibana, I'm going with Tamaki for the day. I'll call when I'm ready to go home."

"Of course, Kyouya-sama."

He rolled the window up, started the car, and drove off. Kyouya watched him go then turned back to Tamaki, sighing.

"You know he'll be following me all day anyway, right?"

"Yeah, I know," said Tamaki with a chuckle. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you forget all about him. Come on, now!"

And he set off happily through the snow-laden streets, leaving Kyouya no choice but to smile privately to himself and follow. After only a few steps in that direction, however, Kyouya was suddenly reminded of something.

"Tamaki?"

"Oui, mon ami?"

"What was that first page of your plans all about?"

"Huh? Which one?"

"The one with the doodles and the crossed out words."

"Oh, that." Tamaki laughed and raked a hand through his bangs. "I was trying to come up with a name for the club. I had written down stuff like 'The Ouran High School's Gentlemen's Alliance' and 'Ouran Society for Dapper Young Men', but none of the things I came up with sounded right."

Kyouya snorted at the ludicrous titles, reaching up to adjust his glasses in order to hide his genuine mirth.

"You twit, no one will want to visit a 'society for dapper young men'. Why not just call it 'Ouran High School Host Club'?"

Tamaki stopped in mid-step as though completely stunned by the idea of such a straightforward name for his elegant club, so that Kyouya had to stop too and look back at him.

Then the sunniest smile of all smiles lit up Tamaki's face, lighting up the scenery too as though he were radiating a warm, bright light that cast a tender golden radiance on the myriad snowflakes dancing around him.

He strode up to where Kyouya was standing waiting for him and punched him playfully on the shoulder, grinning teasingly before continuing on to their destination.

"That's perfect, Kyouya," said Tamaki, his tone almost joking but his expression warm and as sincere as it could ever be. "That's absolutely perfect."

And Kyouya could only whisper "Why, thank you" as he once again matched Tamaki's stride, and they moved away from the coffee shop together.