Purposely Purposeless

Tamaki shook in fervour as he sat down on his bed. The cool silk creased under his weight, crinkling out of the perfectly smooth form the maids had left it in. The room was lit by the ethereal aureate glow of the setting sun, streaming through the wall-sized window opposite the bed. It caught in his blonde hair and violet eyes, accentuating his almost gold highlights so that he appeared to be glowing and making his azure orbs sparkle like pools of liquid sapphire. The view outside the window was beautiful; it looked out onto a range of steep forested mountains in the distance that descended into valleys, a perfect picture of lush green that seemed to dominate the whole landscape. However, Tamaki did not pay mind to any of this as he fell backwards on his bed, throwing his arms outwards in defeat. There were more pressing matters at hand than the view from his bedroom window, and they called for his full attention.

He and Kyouya had been friends for three years.

Three. Years.

Apart from the rocky beginnings of their relationship, they were pretty much inseparable, even if Kyouya did insist that the blonde was a walking headache. Neither boy had questioned their bond; they had never thought anything of it. Both boys were certain that things would stay the same as they were, at least until the end of high school. There was never a consideration that anything would change between them. But now, now everything had changed. How ironic, that a friendship that had stood the test of time for three years could be totally altered in one day. Tamakis previous ideals about his relationship with Kyouya had been promptly thrown out the window, his view on the whole thing having been completely refashioned. In the back of his mind, the blonde knew things would never go back to the way they were. There would be far too many emotions to cover up – and his mask wasn't anywhere near as good as Kyouya's. If the raven-haired boy didn't crack, he surely would, and that would just be mortifying in it's own right.

The cause of all these thoughts was something very trivial in the scheme of things. Something so insignificant really, that it shouldn't have impacted the blonde in the way it did. Unfortunately, Tamaki was prone to overreacting to most situations, this one being no exception. For anybody else, it may not have been such a life-altering dilemma, but for our Host King it was currently the epitome of his problems. It wasn't the end of the world, not by a long shot. Tamaki viewed it differently though.

It all started a few hours ago - that was when things had gone awry. It was just after the Host club had closed for the day and the last girls had left. The hosts had been busy cleaning up, and packing away for the day. Tamaki had been dusting the piano, as it had not been tended to for some time. Kyouya was moving around the room, making notes on stock and the day's income. Tamaki had moved around the piano, trying to get to all the nooks and crannies, when he walked around from the front of the instrument where they keys were located, to the back, where the piano opened up and the strings connected to keys were visible. Just as he popped out from the side of the piano, Kyouya came walking past with his notebook; neither boy had been watching where they were walking, which resulted in them crashing into each other.

In the commotion the boys had ended up pressing their faces together, which lead to them sharing an inadvertent kiss. The blonde had found himself enjoying the contact much more than he decided he should have, and was grateful when Kyouya quickly pulled away. A light blush adorned both boy's cheeks and Tamaki made a great effort to continue his cleaning regime, as Kyouya picked up his notebook, which he had drooped in shock, and continued making notes.

Since that time, Tamaki had had one thought plaguing his mind: kissing Kyouya felt right – in more ways than one. He wondered if their accidental lip-lock had affected Kyouya like it had affected him. Were thoughts about their little fumble invading Kyouya's mind, forcing him to reevaluate all he had become accustomed to over the last few years?

"This can't be happening!" Tamaki cried to the heavens, sitting up abruptly. He was being driven to insanity through all the thoughts that were swirling around in his noggin. Breathing heavily, he turned to his bedside where a photograph of his mother stood, encased in an ornate oak-wood frame that had been custom made in France. Picking it up, he brought it to his face and gazed intently at the picture of the woman with golden locks, smiling happily at the camera. It was at times like these that he missed his mother the most, for she had always given him the best advice. Sighing and running a hand through his unruly blonde waves, he frowned, "What should I do mummy?" He murmured pleadingly to the photo.

The thought suddenly occurred to him that he was begging for counseling about one of the mothers in his life from the other. This would have amused him, had he not been having a breakdown about his longest, most precious friendship. He didn't have time to ponder on this though, because the phone on his bedside table, the one that the photo of his mother had been on, started ringing and caused him to jump three feet in air. Snapping his head around quickly and then wincing at the cracking that it caused in his neck, Tamaki placed the photo of his mother back on the bedside table and reached over to pick up the receiver. Just before his hands clasped around the cool metal of the solid gold phone, he paused, letting his hand hover in the air above it; what if it was Kyouya wanting to speak to him about what had happened? What if he rang to tell him to think nothing of it, and that they should never speak of it again? Did he really want to subject himself to that sort of unwitting rejection?

The phone continued to chime out its shrill tune; it's sound echoing throughout the large room. Tamaki stared at the phone, fear coursing through his veins as he contemplated who might be waiting for his answer on the other end of the line. After a long intermission of the blonde sitting on his bed with his hand outstretched to grab the phone, Tamaki swallowed the lump in his throat and finally resolved to answer the caller – whoever it was. Lifting the receiver to his ear, he drew in a deep breath before putting on his usual cheery voice and uttering his greeting into phone, "Hello! Who's this?"

"Tamaki-senpai?" Came Haruhi's bemused voice from the other end of the line.

"Haruhi! How is my beautiful daughter? Does she need something? Daddy will do anything she pleases!" Tamaki sang into the phone in his trademark idiotic way.

"Senpai, how many times do I have to tell you? I am not your daughter!" Haruhi grumbled, snapping at the Host King's deluded ideas. "But yes, there is something I'd like you to do."

Tamaki smiled, although Haruhi couldn't see it, "What is it, my lovely?"

There was a silence and then Haruhi answered cautiously, "I want you to visit Kyouya-senpai."

Tamaki's breathe hitched in his throat, "W-why do you want that, my little Haruhi?" He stuttered, becoming very uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading.

Haruhi sighed and cut to the chase, "I saw what happened at the Host Club today, I think you and Kyouya-senpai should talk about it."

Tamaki blinked and started twirling the phone cord around his finger, "Again, why?"

Haruhi growled and Tamaki grimaced at what sounded like Haruhi slamming her pen down on a table, "You know why! You liked it and you know it! You have to talk to Kyouya-senpai, otherwise the Host Club will become incredibly awkward until you two both graduate. Is that really what you want, Senpai?"

Haruhi - the ever practical and realistic one. Tamaki had never thought about how this little stunt might affect the others, and that was careless. He mentally berated himself for his lack of consideration; he couldn't believe he had overlooked something like that. It was lucky that Haruhi had thought about it, because otherwise he was sure it would have definitely slipped his mind. Of course, Tamaki didn't realize that Haruhi had been using her knowledge of his overactive emotions to her advantage, and that she had deliberately over-exaggerated the possible effects of his and Kyouya's incident; but that was for the better really.

"Now, are you going to go?" Haruhi demanded, fed up with the long pause Tamaki had taken to ponder over her words.

Tamaki nodded vigorously and then upon realizing Haruhi could not see him articulated his agreement, "Yes, I will go."

"Good," Haruhi retorted, sounding happy with herself, "I'll talk to you later then. Bye Tamaki-senpai."

Tamaki sighed softly and closed his eyes, "Goodbye Haruhi," There was a click and the line went silent, indicating that Haruhi had hung up. Tamaki threw the receiver back onto the stand and shot up from the bed, determined in his new task. If not for himself, he would confront Kyouya for the rest of the Host Club, for Haruhi. While he could revel in his own pain and confusion all he wanted, he could not bare the thought of his friends suffering. With this in mind, he quickly exited the room and made his way for the front entrance of the second Suoh residence, pulling out his mobile and ordering a driver to pick him up out front as he did so.

The sun was now almost below the horizon, and night was quickly settling in. The darkness shrouded the streets, giving everything a strangely eerie feel. As Tamaki looked out the window of his Rolls Royce, he contemplated how exactly he would go about this. He could act in the expected fashion, and barge into Kyouya's room spouting helpless declarations of love, but something told him Kyouya wouldn't take well to that. No, he needed to be discreet and subtle about this; otherwise he would seem obnoxious and overbearing. Not that Tamaki didn't realise he was always obnoxious and overbearing, he just figured he'd have to try and tone it down a bit in this situation.

After a few minutes, Tamaki felt the unmistakable pull of resistance as the Rolls Royce slid smoothly to a stop in front of the Ootori residence. Gingerly, he opened the door and slipped out of the vehicle, making sure to close the door gently behind him. For a few moments he merely stood, staring nervously at the vast building in front of him. The Ootori residence was bigger than the second Suoh residence, and much more geometric; it was cool and modern, very much like an office building. It was undeniably Ootori, so sterilized and simplistic, only there for necessity and nothing else. Tamaki mused on his own home, which was undoubtedly the exact opposite of the building he currently stood in front of. The second Suoh residence had a vibrant European design, sporting a profusion of pinks and gold's; in the traditional Suoh spirit, it was obnoxiously extravagant and exhibited a lavish overabundance of decorations and fixtures. The second Suoh residence felt homely and bright, a far cry from the impersonal air the Oortori residence gave off. In comparison, the two houses were a stark contrast to each other, and Tamaki contemplated how that reflected on he and Kyouya's personalities. They were a contrast too, but unlike their houses they somehow managed to fit together. It was a paradox to say the least.

Realising that he was getting nowhere by standing out the front of the Ootori residence and staring aimlessly into space, Tamaki snapped himself out of it and proceeded to the front door, which he rapped on gently. There was a cessation as Tamaki waited impatiently for someone to answer the door. He began tapping his foot, involuntarily fidgeting in the disquiet.

He was suddenly brought to attention by the door swinging open, to reveal a confused Kyouya standing in the doorway, "Tamaki?" He asked, flummoxed by the blonde's unexpected presence.

Tamaki took a deep breathe and stood to his full height, which being only a few centimeters taller than Kyouya, didn't really make much of a difference, "Kyouya, we need to talk," He exhorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kyouya imitated him and crossed his own arms, raising an eyebrow at the blonde's firm tone, "Really?" He remarked sardonically.

Tamaki scowled and pointed a finger at the shadow king, "Stop acting so blasé! The least you can do is take me seriously for once!"

Kyouya dropped his devil-may-care attitude and nodded, sensing the blonde's humorless mood at the moment. This was rare, it was a given that Tamaki had a smile in place almost every minute of the day. When he didn't, it meant the situation was serious. "Fine, come in." Kyouya said, stepping out of the way for Tamaki.

The blonde stepped inside, and the two boys made their way upstairs to Kyouya's room. An uncomfortable silence settled around them, thickening the already palpable tension. The Ootori house was quiet, it seemed the servants had the day off and Kyouya's father was out on a business trip in Italy, leaving only Kyouya and his brothers there that night. Being Ootori, they all liked to keep to themselves, so more likely than not they were in their own rooms, pouring over some sort of documents or files.

As they entered his room, Kyouya turned around to face Tamaki, "So what's got you so worked up?" He asked. He wasn't the least bit surprised to have Tamaki showing up at his door during twilight hours. He was, however, surprised at Tamaki's attitude; To others it would have probably seemed like Tamaki was being his usual, over-dramatic self, but Kyouya knew him better, and this was one of the few times he was actually pensive. Well, pensive for Tamaki.

Tamaki made a point of closing the door behind him; he didn't want anybody walking in on this, even if it was just Kyouya's brothers. "I think you know why I'm here…" Tamaki replied softly, walking over to Kyouya's couch and taking a seat.

Kyouya followed him and sat down beside him; it felt oddly like the day in which Tamaki had made Kyouya realize he didn't have to do what was expected of him if he didn't want to. Kyouya wondered in Tamaki was going to make him realize something again today. "If you're referring to what happened in the club earlier, then I think you're overreacting," He admonished.

Tamaki grimaced and turned to face Kyouya, his violet eyes shimmering with uncertainty, "Am I?" He countered, searching for some hint of emotion in Kyouya's dark orbs.

Kyouya sighed, "Considering your normal demeanor, you might not be. There's obviously something you came here to ask or say, so you might as well spit it out and be done with it."

Tamaki averted his eyes from Kyouya and sucked in a deep breath. Tears threatened to escape his lashes, but he valiantly kept them at bay. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea. Obviously Kyouya didn't feel the same way, he seemed totally unaffected. He should have never come. Haruhi wasn't god, just because she told him to do this didn't mean he had to obey. He was a fool to think this would have worked out, love never stayed with him long. He should have learned that by now. "I just wanted some company," He responded shakily, looking back up and shooting Kyouya a weak smile.

"You can't lie to me," Kyouya chided, moving over closer to the blonde, "Just tell me. I'm your best friend I won't judge you. Hell, if I did the entire female population of Ouran Academy would probably have my head for it," Kyouya joked, patting Tamaki on the back.

Suddenly Tamaki shot up from his seat, causing Kyouya's hand to flop back down and rest beside him. The blonde was breathing heavily, tugging at his hair in complete turmoil, "What am I supposed to say, Kyouya?" He snapped as tears started dripping to the floor, "It's plain to see that you don't care about what happened, so whats the point? I've already made a fool of myself by just coming here, I don't need to dig myself any deeper into this mess!"

Kyouya narrowed his eyes, "I never said I didn't care," He contended.

Tamaki let go of his hair and snapped his head up, "Really? Well, you never said that you did either."

The brunet stood up, "You've known me for three years, managed to change my whole perception of life, seen me crack on numerous occasions and you STILL can't see through my mask?" Kyouya shouted, "Tamaki, you really are an idiot."

Tamaki hung his head and fell to his knees. This whole thing was a disaster. Now he had Kyouya shouting at him and telling him he was an idiot. He wondered if it would be pertinent to admit he agreed with that statement, because at the moment he felt like the stupidest person on the planet. The Host Clubs faces flashed before through his mind; what had he done? If mummy and daddy got a divorce, what would become of their children? And what would the cousins think? Mummy had always kept tabs on daddy, and daddy had always made sure mummy was happy. He and Kyouya had a co-dependent relationship with each other, if it was severed the Host Club would be a shambles; He would most likely ruin everything with his obnoxious manner and ridiculous ideas and Kyouya would probably ignore everybody, especially Tamaki, and would not try to stop him when he came up with one of his particularly bad schemes.

As Tamaki went off into his own little world, Kyouya strolled over to his bedside table and pulled out his black notebook from the upper draw. No one ever saw what he wrote in there, so what he was about to do was huge. Walking back over to Tamaki, he knelt down and shoved the notebook under Tamaki's hung head, "Here," breathed.

Tamaki blinked at the notebook that had just been pushed into his line of vision, lifting his head he looked at Kyouya confusedly, "What do you want me to do with it?"

Kyouya rolled his eyes, "Read it," He clarified exasperatedly.

Tamaki turned back to the notebook and gently took it from Kyouya's hand, "You want me to read your notebook?" He asked uncertainly, staring in shock at the plain black front cover.

Kyouya nodded, "Turn to page ten," He instructed the bewildered blonde.

Tamaki glanced up at Kyouya one more time, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Nobody, but NOBODY ever read Kyouya's notes. It was a long running game in the Host Club to try and guess what exactly was in there, of course nobody ever knew if they were right because Kyouya never affirmed so; and he always made sure to keep his notebook on or within reach of his person, so nobody had ever snuck a peek either. But now Kyouya was actually OFFERING for Tamaki to read it. This, this was very unexpected to say the least.

Shaking those thoughts off, Tamaki opened the notebook and flicked through to the tenth page, as had been instructed. The page was covered in Kyouya's neat handwriting, although the actual information on the page varied. There were some equations, memos, and notes on stock, notes on what certain members of the Host Club had been doing, even a note on Haruhi's debt. It was amazing that all of that could fit onto one page. Tamaki took a deep breath before he started reading the page's contents:

Haruhi had 20 customers today, that equals ¥14,517, which brings her debt down to ¥132,673,001.

Hikaru and Kaoru are sitting on the window seat again - I guess old habits die hard.

Memo to self: Get more cake, we're running low on our stock.

17x48=816 816/2 =408.

Hikaru and Kaoru made ¥32,100, with a total of 45 customers, Honey made ¥20,000 with a total of 27 customers, Mori made ¥15, 201 with a total of 22 customers, and Tamaki made ¥50,324 with a total of 70 customers. Including Haruhi's ¥14,517, that brings the total days income to ¥132, 142.

Mori's doing a good job of moving the tables back. Must remember to thank him later.

Organise Red Ball for next week.

Tamaki's cleaning the piano, he's doing a good jo-

Tamaki raised an eyebrow, and then realized the sentence wasn't finished because that must have been when he and Kyouya had walked into each other, and Kyouya had dropped his notebook. The writing continued on the next line, so curiously, he plowed on:

I just kissed Tamaki. I. Kissed. Tamaki. It was an accident, of course. It's always an accident with him. He's a walking accident. No, I have to stop bad-mouthing Tamaki. It wasn't his fault, well, not completely. Why is it always an accident though? I wonder what it would be like if Tamaki was serious for once, if he actually MEANT it. No, no, he would never… I would never… Wouldn't I? Would I? I don't know. All I really know at this moment is that I kissed Tamaki, and now I want to kiss him again. Just not on accident.

Tamaki dropped the notebook and looked up at Kyouya. Said boy was back sitting on the couch, his legs crossed and his glasses resting on the coffee table in front of him. His expression was taut, with his lips pressed together tightly in tenseness. For once Tamaki could plainly see what Kyouya was feeling – he was nervous.

Calmly, Tamaki stood up, walked over to the couch and sat down right next to Kyouya. The brunet did not turn to face him, instead staying in his position. Tamaki gazed at the brunet for a few second before saying anything. Kyouya truly was handsome, with his pale flawless skin and ebony hair. Anyone would be a fool not to appreciate that. "I'm sorry," Tamaki started, never taking his eyes off Kyouya, "I should have never jumped to conclusions."

Kyouya did not respond, and still did not move. Tamaki sighed, and glanced at the notebook on the floor. What if I meant it? Tamaki recited from Kyouya's writing. Turning back to Kyouya, he grabbed the brunets chin and turned Kyouya to face him. Kyouya blinked in surprise before Tamaki pressed his lips against Kyouya's.

The kiss was soft and explorative, tender even. Kyouya's lips were soft and warm, perfect for kissing. Tamaki decided to deepen the kiss, and asked for permission by nibbling on Kyouya's bottom lip. Kyouya obliged and opened his mouth, giving Tamaki easy access to the warm cavern within. The blonde made sure to explore every crevice of Kyouya's mouth, just in case he didn't get another opportunity. Shortly after Kyouya returned the favour and Tamaki moaned in delight.

After a few minutes, Tamaki pulled away, his cheeks now tinged pink and his breathing heavy. "That one was on purpose," he smiled, "And I definitely meant it."

Kyouya looked at his notebook on the ground, "So it is written," Kyouya muttered, chuckling.

"So it shall be done!" Tamaki proclaimed.

"So I guess mummy and daddy really are a couple now," Kyouya commented, smiling. Now that all was said and done, it was quite relieving.

"We were always a couple," Tamaki informed, "A couple of idiots."

Kyouya shook his head, "No, that was just you."

Tamaki glared playfully, "Do you really think I'm unbelievably stupid?" He inquired, poking Kyouya in the side.

Kyouya swatted Tamaki's hand away, "Stop it!" Tamaki pulled his hand back with a chuckle, "To answer your question, you're the smartest person I know," Kyouya apprised, "You just tend not to show it."

Tamaki blushed, although it wasn't clear if it was out of embarrassment of flattery, "I'm not smart, I just found my purpose from a young age."

Kyouya raised an eyebrow, "And what would it be?"

Tamaki grinned, "To make people happy, and to love."

Kyouya laughed, "Well you're doing a good job of it, aren't you?"

Tamaki shrugged, "Maybe, what do you think?"

Kyouya laid his head back on the couch, closing his eyes, "I thik you've changed the lives of every single person you've come across, probably for the better. And you certainly love every one of them."

Tamaki smiled and grasped Kyouya's hand in his own. After everything that had happened that night, it felt good to be able to relax. "You're right," He told Kyouya, "I love you."

Kyouya rolled his head over to face Tamaki, "Now, what's the purpose in that?"

Fin

Umm, yeah. Put this up on DeviantArt a few weeks ago, and thought 'What the hell, might as well put it up on FF as well.' So here it is, hope you enjoyed it :)