This is so bad. Ups.
Disclaimer: Own nothing.
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Kyoya had seen quite a lot of cosplays due to Tamaki's fascination with dressing everyone and himself up. The line between male and, feminine had gotten increasingly smaller after the arrival of their two newest hosts.
Tamaki refused the idea of not dressing up Haruhi and Kagome in somewhat female clothes despite their hidden female gender, causing several issues; especially when it came to the raven-haired girl.
Now, Kyoya had never given much thought to the popular term of zettai ryōiki, having heard it in passing between various students throughout the school. In fact, it wasn't until one of their usual customers used that term directed towards Kagome that he had even bothered to look it up.
Now, however, he found himself unable to do little more than stare at the revealed slip of flesh that was left bared to his gaze. For some reason, Kagome wasn't bothered with the various short skirts Tamaki threw at her; much to the blonde's enjoyment.
At the moment Tamaki had managed to spring the idea of Vocaloid's upon the host club, leaving them all dressed as various colourful characters.
Usually, this was nothing new.
This time, however, Tamaki had managed to outdo himself. The blonde prince had managed to convince Kagome into dressing as Luka Megurine and, this resulted in two issues.
One of these issues was that damned dress. The oh so tight dress and, that high cut. Leaving the soft pale flesh of her upper left thigh and, hip visible for all to see.
The other issue being the almost flirtatious way she had draped herself across one of the pale couches showing off said bare hip and the skin of her legs barely covered by those black thigh high stockings.
Those were the issues currently presented in front of him.
And, said issues were impacting Kyoya. Impacting him hard. He had seen plenty of thigh-high stockings on girls before, but he had never seen them on her.
A small trickle of blood dripped down from his nose as the object of his stare sank deeper into the couch; revealing more skin to his almost desperate gaze and, Kyoya could no longer find it in himself to chastise Tamaki's excessive spending on cosplays; not if it meant that he could gaze upon the soft pale thighs of his fellow host member.
It seemed even someone like him needed an obsession.
Kyoya's just happened to be zettai ryōiki. But only when it came to his pretty little ebony-haired classmate.