Disclaimer: Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori, not me.


Most powerful is he who has himself in his own power.

Seneca


How silly. In fact, silly was rather an understatement. Absurd was closer to the truth. But then, of course, Kyouya had taken all the necessary precautions and so could allow himself a little absurdity in the privacy of his own bedroom.

That was not to say that he wasn't going to enjoy himself, of course.

Managing the Host Club had left him with a good understanding of how things usually went when it came to emotions and physical desires. After all, it was his job to manipulate these things to create the best outcome for the customers. He was certainly aware of how lust could cloud the minds of even the most rational people and make them behave in ways most irrational.

He was wary of falling into such a trap. Therefore, while he was observing the others, he was observing himself even more closely. Metacognition. Self awareness. Self control.

Often, Tamaki really got on his nerves. Tamaki was unable to control his actions when his emotions were high, and this weakness often resulted in senseless behaviour that Kyouya found at times simply annoying and at others deeply reprehensible.

Kyouya could acknowledge however – privately, to himself – that probably a large part of his disgust for such behaviour stemmed from his own personal jealousy. He simply couldn't afford to take actions without considering the consequences. Every risk he took was calculated.

And so, here he was.

Tamaki, despite being a numbskull, was undeniably gorgeous. His hair, golden, always falling into those violet eyes.

Kyouya swirled his fingertips around on the silky smooth sheets beneath him. He could, perhaps, be stroking someone's hair. Or a cheek.

Such surprising innocence Tamaki had, at times. The thought of breaking that innocence made his fingers clench.

Today he would do it gently.

He slid a hand inside his loose pyjama pants – here, Tamaki, take this in your hand, let me show you – ah, the widening of those eyes would be exquisite. Cataloguing every detail of his own arousal, he imagined Tamaki's own reactions. But, Kyouya, he would say. But those eyes would be dilated, his breathing would be quickening; he would not pull away. He would, perhaps, be frozen in shock – but he would also be curious.

This would be the delicate moment, where one bad move would send Tamaki fluttering away like a startled bird. But Kyouya wasn't one for making bad moves, not in real life and never in his imaginings. In order to capture Tamaki, he would have to show some vulnerability, even if he felt none.

He dropped his head back against the pillow and exhaled shakily. "Tamaki," he whispered. "Please." He slipped his hand out of his pants, gripped (Tamaki's shoulder) the sheet, and another hand, this time his dominant hand, slid back inside. But it wasn't his hand anymore. It shifted its grip slightly, and Kyouya gritted his teeth.

"Tamaki," he muttered. "I…"

Kyouya…what is it? I don't –

"Tamaki," he ground out, his hips twitching. "I need you."

That first thud of arousal would beat in Tamaki's chest then.

Kyouya…I didn't know –

"Please, Tamaki, now. I feel…weak."

And it was true. His lies were never really lies. He could afford to be weak, here, now.

"I can't restrain myself anymore." He paused, gasping with need. "I don't want to."

Kyouya –

"Tamaki, do this for me. Touch me, please."

Oh, the success gave his heart wings.

Am I doing this right…?

"Oh, yes, any way you like. Do it, do it now."

I knew your bossy side would come out sooner or later.

"What – this is no time for jokes. Do me, Tamaki."

Wha – what?

"Tamaki. Take me now."

And because Tamaki wouldn't be ready for that, he would misunderstand and take Kyouya's cock in his mouth. Which was just fine.

"Ah, god!"

All part of the plan.

He could feel himself falling to pieces.

"Oh, Tamaki, please, please please…"

Too much. It was too much.

"I…can't…!"

Gasping, he spilled over. Every breath felt like the most honest thing he had ever done.

His back had been arched like a bow. Slowly he lowered himself back down onto the bed, sighing.

He tidied up with a tissue, carefully wiping everything away. When he fell asleep, his face was more open and relaxed than Tamaki would ever see it.

All part of the plan.