Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kyoya had never liked the beach. As a child, he’d been scared of the endless ocean, looking out on the horizon and seeing nothing but salty water and hue-shifting sky. It made him feel small. The few times he truly comprehended his insignificance, he was at the beach, kicking his tiny feet to stay above water, never knowing when a current would come and drag him to his death. Perhaps it was a little childish of him to bite his nails when pondering the size of the cosmos, but it was something he’d always done. Fear was a rare feeling for Ootori Kyoya, but he felt it every time he gazed past the sand and over the waves.

Still, beach properties weren’t exactly few or far between for the Ootoris, so when Tamaki had suggested a beach day for the customers with a proper sparkle in his eye, how could Kyoya refuse? He was weak for amethyst eyes and he knew it, and that scared him more than any vastness he could imagine. It had been going fairly well, all things considered. Everyone was keeping busy, the customers were having fun, and money was being made, so Kyoya could tolerate a bit of sand and sea.

He could not, however, tolerate the shrieks of his young and impressionable paychecks. And of course, they were backing up towards a steep drop, because no woman raised in wealth had been properly taught how to use her brain. Two men accosted them, speaking in quiet profanities, growing slowly more agitated by the second as the two girls screeched for them to go away. Not only was it irritating, it made him angry. The two ruffians were scruffy, probably from the nearby beach town and too pompous to realize they were trespassing.  

No one trespassed on Ootori land. That was as much of a fact as their presence here. He could have literally bought their lives, and there they were, terrorizing his guests. Not just the host in him was furious. As much as he hated it, Ootori pride was as easy to find in him as Ootori blood. It ran in his veins, fickle arrogance that he so despised, but it was there, and it made him burn. The only time he felt bright was when he was burning. His pride was his strongest asset, more so than any wealth or strength or kindness. It kept him going, ambition pounding in his ears like a heartbeat.

Haruhi was making their way forward, but they were already winning, they already had so much to offer, and this was Kyoya’s strength. His single redeeming quality. So he walked faster than them. This wouldn’t make him a better man than them, he knew, it wouldn’t better him at all, but he found himself balancing on a thread of the grandeur he’d once held. He needed this. He needed a win, and ego boost, just- something. He passed Haruhi, and they stopped. They trusted him. What a stupid person they were, but it was endearing. Finally, finally, someone unconditionally believed in him. Trusted him to be strong. It was a high, in a way.

Kyoya made his entrance into the middle of the conflict by kicking one of the guys in the shins. The man crumpled to his knees and Kyoya, grateful for his long legs, stepped over him. He turned around, putting himself between the girls and their pursuers, and pushed his glasses up calmly. Then he smiled and held a hand out for one of the men to shake, ignoring the ‘injured’ one, who continued to swear.

“I’m Ootori Kyoya, the proprietor of this beach. May I see your IDs, please, so I can be sure your presence here has been authorized?” The Ootori name registered, but they weren’t quite deterred. That was new. Funny, it would be so easy to live like a normal fucking person among people like this. Even if they knew his name, they wouldn’t care. They wouldn't blink if they saw him doing normal things like a normal teenager. To them, a name was just a name. Names and companies and breeding were the keystones of the world he was born into. He was rather tired of those things, he found. How refreshing, to find someone who simply didn't care.

“Careful, there, rich boy, you don’t look like the strongest,” the still-standing man said. His friend winced beside him, standing up as well. Kyoya could see the customers edging out of danger from his periphery, and a wave of smug satisfaction rolled over him. He kept his cool gaze trained on the trespassers, though. Couldn’t hurt to stall a little longer.

“Kicks like a bitch, though. Should we teach him a lesson?” Kyoya snorted, and in the brief moment he wasn’t focused on him, the guy he’d kicked pushed him back. He hadn’t realized how close to the edge of the drop off he was until he stumbled backwards and his foot found the air. 

The moment before he fell, his eyes met Tamaki’s, who’d just looked up from where he was talking to Haruhi and the twins. He saw violet eyes widen, the realization that Kyoya, not Haruhi, was the one in danger, and saw him grow very afraid. He didn’t want to be looked at that way. He knew Tamaki cared about him, he knew, but it was so unfamiliar. And, even after all that reassurance, all that love, it was still nothing next to the way he looked at Haruhi. Tamaki looked at him and saw a friend. He looked at them and seemed to be blinded by light. They were his flower, his sweet little summer star. Seeing the love in his eyes condensed into fear, Kyoya had one thought.

Oh. That isn’t nearly enough.

Then he was falling. It wasn’t all that bad, really. He’d thought so many times about what it would be to topple off the top of a building, he’d felt himself plummet from the family jet and wondered how bad it would be if he just… didn’t open his parachute, and over and over and over again he had fallen down the stairs while reading. This was nothing. The feeling of hitting the water was somewhat delayed, like his nerves were adjusting for impact.

He felt his glasses drift away from his face. The edges of his vision went white. Then there was nothing at all.

Kyoya woke, limp and cold and trembling, face feeling like it had been stripped bare of everything that kept him invisible. Sand had scraped him clean, raw and naked, and his glasses were long gone. Likely, they were deep in the ocean, and he was responsible for new microplastics in the stomachs of fish and gulls and maybe people. He didn’t remember the past day very well, like his brain had been scrubbed with seawater as well. He tried to wipe his eyes, and realized he was being carried, arms trapped by the person with the blob of blond hair and slightly sunburned skin.

“He’s okay!” Tamaki’s voice cracked a little bit, and Kyoya’s nose wrinkled with concern. Before he could speak, though, the blond slung Kyoya’s arm over his shoulder and let his feet fall back onto the sand. Kyoya realized Tamaki had been carrying him as a man would carry his newly-wedded wife, and swallowed down his disgust at the thought of Tamaki marrying. He was so thoughtless, but so kind, and anyone would be lucky to have him. But Kyoya would scratch his eyes out before seeing him carry someone down the aisle.

“Have they left yet?” His voice was hoarse and dry, and speaking was effortful. He could feel Tamaki’s concern radiating off of him. “Our private police force is quite accessible, so I assume it’d be easy to force them out if needed, since the customers were able to get away while we were talking.” A high voice that could only be Honey made a slight sound of distress, and beside him, Mori’s deep sigh was highly recognizable. That couldn’t be good. “Please tell me we won’t have a lawsuit on our hands, senpai.”

“Ah, well..”

“Haruhi called a doctor for you,” Kaoru input unhelpfully. His voice was easy to distinguish, softer and higher than his brother’s. Kyoya sighed, removing his arm from around Tamaki’s shoulder, wobbling gently. What would he do without this batch of idiots? A giggle bubbled up from his stomach full of seawater. He really was like their mother, wasn’t he? The only voice of reason.

“I don’t need a doctor, I need my glasses.” He felt hands on his face, one cupping his cheek, the other feeling for a fever. If his face hadn’t been hot before, it was now. Tamaki was too sweet for his own good. Ootori Kyoya had been starved of human contact for much too long, but ever since Tamaki had entered his life, he’d been spoonfed the touch he wanted so desperately. It felt sometimes like Tamaki radiated warmth and light, and Kyoya couldn’t help but lean into it.

“What were you thinking?” Kyoya hadn’t realized before, but Tamaki was vibrating with rage, directed at him. His voice was strained, like he was either going to cry or yell. The guilt returned, flowing over him like the water had just minutes before. That tone of voice screamed How could you do this to me? It was fearful and frustrated, and Kyoya hated being the one to make him feel that way. “You aren’t like Honey-senpai, Kyoya. You were reckless. What were you thinking, going up against two boys?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tamaki, you would’ve done the same thing. He had them cornered, there was no time to carefully craft a plan. They could’ve resorted to threats or violence. Customers come first, always. That’s your rule.” Like Kyoya couldn't handle two idiots on equal terms, anyway. Boys like that were exactly what he'd been trained for, and if he hadn’t gotten cocky, he probably could've flipped his aggressor over his shoulder and into the water, and then someone else could help him restrain the other. An unfortunate mistake, but still, it could’ve happened to anyone. And nothing would change by squabbling over it.

“That’s no excuse, you idiot! You were in just as much danger as those girls!” He sighed. He couldn’t see Tamaki, but he knew the look on his face. He hated when it was directed at him.

“I know , Tamaki. I knew the risks then. But, as a host and the person responsible for putting them in that situation, you know they should be prioritized over all else. Besides, it’s over now. It’s done. I can’t change how I reacted.” Tamaki was shaking, be it with anger or the cold, and it was easy to brush him off. Haruhi moved to speak, but Kyoya shot them a look. Nothing could be gained arguing with Tamaki, not when he was like this. He started walking, then paused, giving Haruhi the opportunity to follow.

They did, and once they were out of earshot, asked the one thing on everyone’s mind.

“What does he think you did wrong? You saved them.” Kyoya sighed.

“I put myself in danger. He was right, it was rash. I was being stupid, and I’m in the wrong here. Tamaki… he’s lost a lot. He deserves a certain amount of leeway when it comes to his anxiety, but I don’t exactly have it in me to admit I was wrong.” They paused, considering this. For a moment, he thought they were going to say something, and he knew exactly what. “I know you would’ve done the same thing. Don’t tell him that. It’ll only make him angry.” 

“He looks more scared than angry.” He laughed.

“With Tamaki, it’s pretty much the same thing. If you want to plead my case, go right ahead. He’ll be more inclined to listen to you anyway. Sometimes I wonder if he just likes you more than me.” He couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice, and he left them behind on the doorstep, to consider that too.

Chapter Text

Kyoya had always been weak when it came to love. He was a child who sobbed when he was taken from his big sister at the very beginning of his schooling. He felt torn apart at the seams, like a part of him had been ripped from his body and the space around it was fraying. He spent every moment loving like that, every second he spent alive falling in love with cherry blossoms and the way sunlight refracted on mirror-like pools and the statues at his new school. He delighted in the smallest things, from holding his sister's hand to a hint of a smile on his oldest brother's face. But it was rare for those feelings, the intense and all-consuming ones, to be requited- even accepted. He learned to squash it deep inside himself, in the corners of his heart, to eliminate the sort of pain that came when he knew he wasn't enough.

Tamaki wasn’t a surprise. It felt like it’d been a long time coming, really. But his family didn’t want him to feel, especially not like that. Fuyumi realized it first, and the smile she gave him only stung a little bit. He knew no one else would understand the way she did. Of course, their father didn’t. He brought Kyoya to his office and told him that if the Suoh-Ootori partnership so much as wavered, there would be consequences. The idea that Kyoya would act on the way he felt made him want to laugh or cry, he wasn’t entirely sure which. He hardly knew what he wanted himself, how could Tamaki Suoh and a life as an outcast make him happy? Still, it hurt more than he cared to say. His feelings were nothing more than inconveniences to everyone around him, even to Tamaki. They were worthless, and a boy who could do nothing but feel was worthless too.

Tamaki wasn’t supposed to be there that day. If he hadn’t been, maybe everything would’ve been better for all of them. But he was, and the shock of fear Kyoya saw go through him when their eyes met, Tamaki on the ground and Kyoya on the roof, made him physically recoil. He’d stumbled backwards from the edge, falling onto his back. He stayed there, staring at the sky, until Tamaki helped him up. It was unimaginably blue. 

Fuyumi and Tamaki fussed over him for the rest of the day, but neither of them ever asked him to talk. They knew he couldn’t anyway. Tamaki played for him that night and the next morning. He cried both times. Never again, though. After that, he became more reserved. Tamaki never succeeded in making him lose his temper. He never succeeded in getting much out of him, really. A couple smiles, little, reserved laughs. Only when he wasn’t looking, did Kyoya really let himself feel. When Tamaki wasn’t looking, he could smile again. Only in Suoh’s direction, though.

Kyoya methodically cleaned his extra pair of glasses, sat on the edge of his bed. It felt like he was just moving the dust around, really.

A knock on the door, identifiable. It was light but firm, sure of itself.

“Haruhi, is there something you needed? I was just going to write to the beach security.” They cracked the door, and at his slight nod, slipped inside. Haruhi had a tendency to come too close, but they didn’t do so today, hovering by the door, likely so no one would get the wrong idea. As if there was a wrong idea to get. Kyoya kept himself too busy to form any sort of feelings toward new people. There was an appropriate amount of distance between him and everyone else. Except people who refused to care about that kind of thing, like his big sister and Tamaki. Haruhi was beginning to grow on him, but not quickly. It would take time, and even then, the love would be familial.

“Let’s start with if you’re alright? I know you got dinner already, but are you sure there’s no pain? And um, nothing you wanted to say to Tamaki?” 

“I’m fine, thank you. I know you’re curious. I- I suppose the last time he saw me anywhere near that far off the ground was when we were fifteen. He was the one who kept me alive, quite literally. My lack of self-preservation has always set him on edge.” Haruhi nodded, a calmness to them he hadn’t expected. They leaned back and traced the patterns of the wallpaper on the ceiling with their eyes.

“My dad hasn’t always been doing great, y’know. When I was little… things were really hard on him. He was taking pills with whiskey one night, and I knew that was bad, so I called an ambulance. Said he’d been drugged so they wouldn’t take me away. It was bad, Kyoya. It made me feel like I wasn’t enough to stick around for. And I know you admire him a lot, but Tamaki-senpai isn’t as strong as that. We all grew up too fast, but he deals with things differently. He pretends he’s immature, latches onto people, and he cares so much it could kill him. One of these days, he’ll reach his breaking point, and none of us, especially not you, want to see that.” Kyoya sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “You love him so much, but you’re hurting him right now, and it doesn’t matter why. Okay? Intentions don’t matter right now, because you hurt him. He loves you as much as you love him. Try to put yourself in his shoes.”

Even if they were wrong, even if Tamaki didn’t-couldn’t-shouldn’t love Kyoya nearly as much as Kyoya loved him, he was still part of his family. He was still loved. Kyoya couldn’t disrespect that. He couldn’t let things stay tense, hostile. Not like this.

Kyoya stood outside Tamaki’s door, hand raised and poised to knock. He’d been standing there for a while. He’d never been so completely and utterly petrified. It felt like someone could paint him, now, a portrait of a boy with the world moving around him. He’d always liked that concept, the idea that someone noticed the one standing still, that everyone was seen and understood. That, at some point, everyone mattered. But it didn’t feel meaningful, this pause. This break from life. He was there and he wasn’t, and there was no painter, so no one would see or understand. None of it would matter. He was nothingnothingnothingno

The door hit him in the face as it made its wide arc, swinging open. His glasses clattered to the ground, and Kyoya raised a hand to his face. Violet eyes peered around the door, widening when they saw him.

“Kyoya! Oh my, are you hurt? I’m so sorry, my dear Ky-”

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Kyoya was calm. Kyoya was collected, Tamaki was the one who got emotional. Tamaki was the one who lashed out and fucked up and pretended his skin was so much thicker than it had ever been. When had their roles gotten this messed up? When had the damn feelings slipped through the cracks? Kyoya was nothing without his facade. An unfeeling king was better than a crybaby second-in-command. Anything was better than that. He fumbled with his words for a moment, trying to sound dignified. “I need to apologize.”

“Mn. But Kyoya, what about you?” He blinked, shaken out of his careful mulling over of words, and looked Tamaki in the eyes. “You must’ve been scared. No one else was there, and it was kind of you, but it wasn’t easy to do what you did. Especially not when there are other people who could potentially help, and you were still alone. I’m sorry, I should have been there with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tamaki, your first priority is the girls-” Tamaki shook his head forcefully.

“ You’re my first priority, Kyoya. You’re my best friend. My favorite person in the world. Losing you and knowing I could’ve stopped it… that’s the scariest thing of all. I don’t blame you for having thoughts and feelings about being hurt or,” his breath hitched, “dying, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself with them. I need you to tell me how to help.” Kyoya examined his face, and found no trace of insincerity. 

“My father… I thought rebelling with the host club would be enough. But it isn’t. I- there’s just- I feel so much, Tamaki, and I can’t stop, and I hate it, I hate feeling things. I’m sorry for scaring you, I am, but I wish that fall had made it stop , but it made it worse. I wish I wasn’t like this.” Tamaki took his face in his hands and just stared at him. Stared and stared and stared, and then- he pulled him in for a hug. Wrapped his arms around Kyoya, warm and secure. Something rolled down his face. Kyoya buried his face in the crook of his best friend’s neck, refusing to admit how badly he was shaking. “Mon très cher amour, je suis désolé. Je suis vraiment désolé.” 

Kyoya didn’t ask what he meant.

Chapter Text

“Kyo, do you think you and Tama-chan will get married in France?” Kyoya sipped his tea calmly, eyeing Haninozuka from across the kotatsu. Takashi turned to look at his cousin with something like fear in his eyes, and Kyoya couldn’t help but smile. Tamaki was out for the moment, searching for sugar cubes instead of regular sugar like a maniac. He’d never learned the teaspoon to cube ratio, apparently, and none of the other men would be of any help (Kyoya never used sugar cubes, Honey wouldn’t know moderation if it bit him in the ass, and Mori took his tea black). “He’s got dual citizenship, so you technically could get legally married.”

“I doubt it, considering Tamaki and I aren’t together.” Haninozuka squinted at him, trying to read his face. Kyoya happily answered the unspoken question. “No, I haven’t made an effort. Why would I ruin something that already makes me perfectly happy? Besides, that Baishō girl is a nice fit for him, she never fails to make him smile.” Haninozuka gasped dramatically, and even Mori looked stunned.

“Tama-chan is dating someone ? And he didn’t tell us?” Kyoya laughed.

“Nothing of the sort, not yet. Baishō-san is lovely, though, and her parents are both renowned professors. She’s on the path to follow in their footsteps, and would make a good addition to Ouran’s staff. She’s also quite familiar with France, and knows the countryside quite well. They could be very happy together.” Haninozuka pretended to gag. “I will never understand your interest in mine and Tamaki’s love lives. Really, it seems like a tired subject.”

“He lectures Kaoru at length as well,” Mori commented, clearly exhausted, “only Hikaru and Haruhi have escaped his presumptuous advice. Mitsukuni believes his success with Reiko to be indicative of his romantic prowess.” Honey stuck his tongue out at his cousin, who wrinkled his nose in response. Takashi had become much more expressive in university, since he and Honey couldn’t rely on one another to communicate with others. 

“Honestly, Takashi, I don’t see why you allow Haninozuka to treat you like his little brother. He’s only a few months older than you, afterall.” Mori shrugged. “Well, Haninozuka-”

“If you have to use real names, at least use my given name, rather than the family one,” Haninozuka snapped, pouting. Kyoya masked his smug expression with another sip of tea. 

“Well, Mitsukuni , I don’t think your success with a woman will do myself and Kaoru much good. Turn your full attention to Tamaki and your dear little brothers, if you must, but men and women don’t quite have the same social norms when it comes to dating.”

“Boooo. I advised Haru-chan about Hikaru, that may as well be the same thing.”
“You did nothing of the sort,” Tamaki said, jauntily setting the sugar cubes on the kotatsu and taking his seat. “All you told Haruhi was that Hikaru liked gifts, which they could’ve easily figured out. Their confession barely even involved the gift, anyway, isn’t that right, Kyoya?”

“You were the only one paying attention. I couldn’t care less about stalking the underclassmen.” Tamaki elbowed his ribs, before slipping on his signature smile once again.

“If anything, my advice was the most-”

“Kaoru helped the two of them the most, end of discussion,” Kyoya stated, challenging Tamaki with a single raised eyebrow. “Now, Takashi, how is university? I’ve been considering going the same route as you, but I haven’t applied yet.”

“Actually, Kyo-chan,” Mitsukuni interrupted, “I wanted to ask Tamaki what I asked you.” The two of them stared at one another, Kyoya trying to light his senior on fire with his eyes. In the end, though, Haninozuka looked away first, grinning at Tamaki. “Tama-chan, do you think your wedding will be in France?” 

“Hm.” Tamaki turned over the idea in his mind. “It’ll have to be, won’t it? I mean, if it comes to that. My dream wedding used to be in a Japanese greenhouse, but I think a grand Parisian hall would be nice. Pale blues and golds, I think. If my spouse agrees. But I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, so thinking that far ahead is rather useless, isn’t it?” Kyoya shot Mitsukuni an ‘ I told you so’ look.

“So you plan to marry a man?” Tamaki coughed.

“I suppose, in this hypothetical world where I’m getting married, yes. I just haven’t ever been able to see myself in a long-term relationship with a woman, even if I’d like to experience it.” Haninozuka leaned forward, his smile growing more devious by the second. Kyoya felt dread begin to form in the pit of his stomach, recognizing where he was nudging the conversation. He’d known Tamaki liked everyone, but the thought of him admitting to having feelings for a specific person hurt more than he cared to say.

“You’ve thought about being in a long-term relationship with a specific man, then?” 

“Well, yes, but it… it didn’t seem like it was going anywhere? So I’m open to anything now?” The mischievous gaze turned to Kyoya.

“Mitsukuni, our car is waiting for us,” Takashi said, before his cousin could continue his destructive rampage. Haninozuka frowned, but stood up with him. “Thank you for having us, Kyoya. We’ll be going now. No need to see us out.”

He practically pulled Honey away by his collar, the door slamming behind them. Kyoya took a sip of his tea, watching Tamaki from his periphery.

“Why did Honey ask you if your wedding would be in France?” He choked, abruptly looking away. Tamaki sounded… curious? Eager, maybe. Of course, everyone needed to know everything about his love life. 

“I’m not quite sure,” Kyoya lied, rather obviously.

“Now, mon cher, don’t give me that. There’s no need to keep anything from me, is there?”

“I suppose he was just curious if I had a lover?”

“Kyoya.” He met Tamaki’s eyes again, surprised to see delight beginning to paint his face. “Kyoya, is there someone you like?” When he looked away, Tamaki laughed. His ears were burning. “Someone French?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tamaki.”

“And don’t you dare lie to me, mon cher.” Tamaki gripped Kyoya’s chin, turning his face to look at him. “Ootori Kyoya, do you like me romantically?”

“Like isn’t a very strong word.” Tamaki blinked. “Do you like me romantically, Suoh Tamaki?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kyoya.” His heart didn’t even have time to sink. “I love you. I’m not actually sure love is a strong enough word, either. Adore? Cherish, maybe? Treasure?” Tamaki giggled, covering his eyes with his free hand. “My Kyoya, je t'aime tellement que ça pourrait me tuer. Je t'aurais comme âme sœur si je le pouvais, mon amour. I want to capture your heart and let it beat in my chest the same way mine beats in yours.” 

“You already have,” Kyoya whispered. Tamaki wiped his eyes, unperturbed by the fact they were already filling up with tears again, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then each cheek, then his nose, before Kyoya pulled him in for the sweetest kiss of any life that has ever been spent on this earth. Tamaki was crying, but neither of them cared. The first kiss of many never ends yearning. If anything, it heightens it. But Kyoya and Tamaki had spent half a decade yearning for one another. They could keep doing so for another thousand years if they had to.