Through the Looking Glass

Title: Through the Looking Glass
Pairing: Kyoya/Tamaki
Genre: PWP/Smut
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: First-time slash and the various goodies that come with it.
Author’s Note: You know, for being less than 5,000 words, this took a really long time to write. It's inspired more by the manga than the anime, but that only affects a few minor details. It takes place shortly after Chapter 15 / Episode 13 "Haruhi in Wonderland". If you'd like to see more like this, please let me know in a review. Enjoy!

---

Kyoya frowned at the figures on his laptop screen. The previous three Host Club events had resulted in a net loss, and the club’s account was suffering for it. At this rate, they might have to sacrifice décor or costumes if they were to continue offering the same level of service to their guests. He made a note to brainstorm for fundraising ideas later, listing another photo book among the possibilities.

Tamaki uttered a faint, “Hmm…” Glancing up Kyoya saw that the blonde was studying the hookah he’d borrowed from his brother for the Host Club’s Wonderland cosplay. Originally he’d intended to be the caterpillar, as that would allow him to sit and ponder away from the insanity that would inevitably arise once the twins fell into the joint role of the Cheshire Cat. However, Tamaki had vetoed the idea immediately, declaring Kyoya the Red Queen instead. “After all,” he’d said, “you are the mother of our precious family.”

A few well-placed uses of, “Off with his head!” at least gained him the option of being the Black Queen; he looked horrid in red. Sadly, he was still stuck in a dress for the entirety of the event. Sometimes he wondered if Tamaki secretly enjoyed seeing Kyoya in a dress, though he figured the preposterous family connotation was enough to please the blonde.

He wondered if his brother missed it. He’d always assumed it was purchased as a curiosity, but it was loaned to him with all the accoutrements to make it work. Kyoya had never planned on actually smoking the thing, but he'd brought the flavored tobacco – shisha – anyway, mostly as a contingency in case a customer wanted to see it working. No one had, and he really couldn’t imagine needing it again, so he supposed he should return it soon.

“Kyoya, how does this thing work, anyway?”

“Hmm?” Kyoya finished the final few calculations before looking up. Tamaki was staring oddly at the hookah, idly stroking the graceful shape of the water-filled glass globe at the bottom. “Well, first you need this,” he said while handing Tamaki a bag of shisha. “You'll also need this,” he added, handing Tamaki the charcoal disc. Tamaki stared at both objects blankly for several moments before thrusting them back in Kyoya's hands.

The brunet thought he'd gotten off easy, but then Tamaki announced, “You do it!”

“I really don’t see the point. Smoking is a disgusting habit.” He could already feel himself losing the battle, but he had to try.

Tamaki began to pout. “But I want to try it! Would you really let me miss out on what could be my only chance ever to try smoking a hookah?”

Kyoya rolled his eyes, sighed, and removed a bit of shisha – about half of what his brother had suggested he use – from the bag, placing it in the small bowl at the top of the hookah. He placed the perforated metal cover over the bowl and set the charcoal on top. He retrieved a lighter from his bag (also brought solely in case someone asked for such a demonstration) and lit the charcoal, blowing out the flame immediately and letting it smolder. Tamaki, who had watched the proceedings intently, moved closer. “Now what?”

Kyoya handed him the hose. “Now you smoke it.” Tamaki considered it for a while, frowning at Kyoya as though he suspected the brunet might be trying to trick him. Kyoya groaned in exasperation, taking the hose from Tamaki and sucking in a deep breath through it. It took several tries – as the smoke needed to be drawn down the tube, through the water, and back up through the hose – but after a few draws he tasted the sweet smoke.

He had to admit, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. He’d taken a drag off a cigarette once a year or so earlier, and the unpleasant smoke had burned his throat. This smelled and tasted significantly better, and it didn’t burn the way the cigarette had. He suspected it was because the tobacco never actually burned, though he figured the water probably helped significantly as well. He breathed out, entranced by the curl of smoke that floated up into the air in front of him. Even without the burn, though, the smoke did dry his throat out. Handing the hose to Tamaki, he announced, “I’m getting a drink. Do you want something?”

Tamaki smirked up at him as Kyoya stood, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “A beer.” Kyoya stared at him for a moment. Was he serious? It was always so hard to tell with Tamaki. “I mean, we are smoking. If we’re already breaking rules, what’s one more?”

Kyoya knew there was beer in the kitchen. It had been there ever since Fuyumi’s disastrous bachelorette party. (And really who came up with such a ridiculous idea, anyway? Getting drunk the night before your wedding was surely meant to be a joke and not something normal, sane individuals would seriously consider.) Tamaki probably knew that it was still there. He knew no one would really question if it suddenly went missing, but he still wasn’t sure it was a good idea for them to drink it. Tamaki was already loud, boisterous, and dramatic; what sort of effect would alcohol have on him?

Tamaki took a drag on the hookah, smiling as he breathed the smoke out. “Oh, that’s good…” he murmured. His voice was husky, and Kyoya told himself it was because the smoke had dried out Tamaki’s throat as well. He turned on his heel and left for the kitchen.

He encountered no one on his way to the kitchen. It was not surprising, really, at this time of evening. His family rarely shared meals, and even when he wasn’t away on business his father usually worked well into the night. Steeling himself, Kyoya took the six-pack of beer from the fridge, returning to his room quickly. Just in case.

Tamaki’s eyes lit up when he saw it, a grin spreading across his face. Kyoya looked away, hiding a blush. He liked to see his friend happy, he told himself, but the fluttering in his chest had nothing to do with the smile on Tamaki’s face. Nothing at all.

He was thankful for the distraction when Tamaki handed him the hose for the hookah. He took another long drag, savoring the sweet smoke. Tamaki opened two beers, handing one to him, and took a seat on the floor by the hookah. Kyoya sat next to him, deciding it was best to stay close since the hookah only had one hose. He took a drink of his beer and tried to ignore the light moan Tamaki released with his next drag.

They sat in companionable silence (such a rare experience with Tamaki involved) for several long minutes, enjoying their illicit activities. Tamaki rolled his shoulders and arched his back, enjoying the relaxing sensation that he thought was probably all in his head since they were only smoking tobacco. Kyoya couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sinewy form stretching languidly. He took too deep a breath and nearly choked on the cloying smoke, passing the hose back to Tamaki quickly while reaching for his beer. Tamaki took it with a serene smile, completely unaware of Kyoya’s difficulty.

Once Kyoya had regained his composure, he glanced over to see Tamaki staring at him strangely. He tried to think if he had done anything to warrant such a look, but other than acquiescing to Tamaki’s ridiculous whims – something that certainly shouldn’t be noteworthy by this point – nothing came to mind. The blonde took another long drag on the hose, leaned over, and blew a puff of smoke in Kyoya’s face. He wanted to take offense, get angry, but what was the point? They were both smoking the damn thing, so what was a little more smoke? And if that smoke had just been inside Tamaki… Kyoya’s brain shut down at the thought.

When Tamaki handed him the hose again, he took a few shallow breaths and then a long one, leaning over and blowing smoke back in Tamaki’s face. Turnabout is fair play, after all. Tamaki smiled, moving a bit to breathe in the thickest smoke. Kyoya sat there, staring blankly at his best friend, the hookah hose forgotten in his hand. Tamaki, ignoring the stare, reached over, retrieving the hose and brushing his long fingers against Kyoya’s hand in the process.

Kyoya reached for his beer again. Why was he reacting so strongly to Tamaki today? Why was his pulse racing, his mind making every glance and touch into something so significant? Surely a single beer and a bit of smoke couldn’t do this, could it? Why did he even agree to this? Why did he always have to give in to Tamaki’s every impulse?

He was still caught up in his string of unanswered questions when Tamaki leaned over, closer this time, and blew another puff of smoke in his face. Kyoya took the offered hose, but barely breathed as he brought it to his mouth. This is mad. I should stop, ask him to leave before I say or do something monumentally stupid.

“Hey, share a little!” Kyoya realized he must have been sitting there trying to convince himself to send Tamaki home for longer than it seemed. Continuing their new childish custom, he took a long drag, held the smoke in his mouth, and leaned over to blow the smoke in Tamaki’s face. Tamaki leaned in as well, and Kyoya was very aware of the few scant centimeters separating their faces and how very little effort it would take to lean in and kiss the blonde.

Without moving back, Tamaki plucked the hose from Kyoya’s grasp, breathing in and blowing the smoke back out to Kyoya. Kyoya breathed it in, and still both boys stayed in place, leaning into each other. Tamaki smoked for a while, apparently unfazed by the brunet sitting so close and staring at him unblinkingly. He took another breath to share and leaned even closer, their lips only a centimeter apart. Kyoya started breathing in before Tamaki had breathed out, and they both watched entranced as all the smoke went directly from one mouth to the other.

Tamaki held the hose up to Kyoya’s lips, and they repeated the same action in reverse. Tamaki took another drag and moved in that last centimeter, their lips barely touching as he breathed out. Kyoya couldn’t stand it. He moved his lips, such a tiny movement that it really couldn’t even be called a kiss, a small enough movement to brush off as accidental should Tamaki call him on it. Tamaki, however, took it as an invitation, moving his lips as well.

He’s kissing me!

Kyoya felt like he was on fire, every nerve ending sparking as they shared that chaste kiss.

Chastity was apparently not what Tamaki had in mind, though, and he pressed harder, more insistently, against Kyoya’s lips. Kyoya relaxed into it, opening his mouth. Tamaki took advantage, slipping his tongue into the brunet’s pliant mouth. Kyoya couldn’t fight the tiny helpless sounds he made as arousal flooded his body, heated his blood, made his hands itch with a need to touch the other boy. Tamaki groaned in response, deepening the kiss even further, a hand coming up to curl into the younger boy’s dark locks.

Kyoya’s mind was a typhoon of half-formed thoughts. The hand in his hair tugged gently, sending the most amazing sensations throughout his body. He wanted to touch the blonde, return those amazing sensations, but he couldn’t seem to remember how to make his arms work. Tamaki leaned forward slightly, and Kyoya followed the movement, shifting his hands further back on the floor to accommodate the new angle. He was vaguely aware of the blonde shifting around, a leg moving across his lap, and then Tamaki was straddling him, the hand in his hair tilting his head to a better angle so they could kiss even more deeply.

Tamaki rolled his hips, their hardening erections brushing together for the shortest of moments, but it was enough to end their kiss, both boys throwing their heads back with a gasp. “Kyoya…” Tamaki breathed in an almost reverent tone. “Want you so much right now.”

Kyoya felt drunk, and he was almost entirely certain it had nothing to do with the scant amount of alcohol he’d imbibed. He shook his head, tried to clear it, wishing he could think straight, but Tamaki’s fingers were still carding through his hair, those violet eyes clouded with lust and gazing at him as if he were the most gorgeous creature on the planet. “Tamaki,” he groaned, the name hanging in the air. He was uncertain what to say. Part of him – most of him – wanted to continue, let Tamaki have whatever he wanted and just see how far things went. But another, smaller part of him was sure they should stop. This was the sort of thing that could ruin a friendship, cause awkwardness in the Host Club, interfere with business between their companies in the future. Letting their hormones run amok could have dire consequences.

The future is uncertain. All you truly have is here and now.

Here and now. If he didn’t let himself experience this now, would he ever get another chance? Would he spend the rest of his life wondering what could have been? Kyoya didn’t believe in regrets. If mistakes were made, attempts would be made to correct or atone for them. This didn’t feel like a mistake, but if it later proved to be, he was certain – well, almost certain – that he could smooth things over.

There was a harsh nip to Kyoya’s earlobe. “You’re thinking entirely too hard,” the blonde whispered huskily. Then there were lips trailing along his neck, tongue and teeth grazing the skin, hands tugging open the buttons of his shirt. Still Kyoya sat back on his hands, feeling almost superfluous in this situation. Shouldn’t he be doing something?

“We should…” Stop, he thought.

“Move to the bed,” Tamaki answered, standing and grabbing Kyoya’s shoulder, hauling him up and promptly pushing his now-unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders to fall forgotten to the floor.

“Bed?” Kyoya asked uncertainly, trailing hesitantly behind the blonde. Were they really doing this?

“Mm-hmm,” Tamaki supplied, turning and pulling Kyoya into another kiss, working on the buttons of his own shirt and shrugging it off. Kyoya gasped at the sensation when Tamaki pulled him into an embrace, their bare chests touching. The blonde let his hands roam as he deepened the kiss. With a groan he slid his hands around to Kyoya’s ass and pulled their groins together. Kyoya’s fingernails dug into his friend’s back as he moaned at the contact.

Tamaki ran his tongue along Kyoya’s neck and then bit lightly at his collarbone. His hands moved to the front of Kyoya’s pants and began working them open. As soon as the zipper was down, he dropped to his knees, running a tongue across the other boy’s stomach and pushing his pants down. Kyoya stared down at him blearily. He’d imagined Tamaki on his knees before him, just like this, a thousand times. He’d had a dozen different wet dreams like this, jerked off to the mental image a hundred times. But he never imagined he’d actually get to experience it.

Tamaki leaned in, pressing his cheek against that straining flesh. It was so warm, so soft despite the hardness, like steel wrapped in silk. Kyoya’s sigh was enough to encourage him, and he pressed a series of open-mouth kisses along the length, running his tongue in a firm line back to the tip. He rolled his eyes upward, watching the flow of emotions across his friend’s face, measuring the reactions to each new sensation. It was strange to see Kyoya so uninhibited. Tamaki liked that feeling of control.

Tamaki wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, drawing a keening moan from the brunet. Kyoya felt his legs threatening to give way and shifted his feet to a wider stance, sliding his fingers through blond locks for an extra bit of balance. Tamaki sank lower, focusing on moving his tongue since he could only handle about half the length. He wrapped one hand around the base, the other holding Kyoya’s hip to help maintain control.

Kyoya was entranced by the sight of his dick disappearing between those amazing lips. The only thing better than the way it looked was the way it felt. Tamaki’s mouth was hot and wet, and Kyoya had no idea what was going on in there but it was the most incredible thing he’d ever experienced. He strained against the hand holding him in place, desperate for more. Instead, Tamaki pulled back, grinning up at him. “I’ve been wanting to try that for ages.”

Kyoya chuckled. “Feel free to try it as much as you’d like.”

“Expect me to take you up on that offer later. For now…” Tamaki stood, pulling Kyoya into another fierce kiss. Tongues battled for dominance, and hands skimmed across whatever flesh was within reach. The texture of Tamaki’s pants against bare flesh was almost too much when they ground their hips together, but the hint of pain only added to Kyoya’s ardor. Just as his fingers slid to the front of those pants to unbutton them, Tamaki nibbled his way to Kyoya’s ear and whispered hotly, “Do you have any lube?”

Kyoya’s mind took several long moments to process the question, his body stilling as he tried to catch up with exactly what was happening. “Lube?” There was a part of him deep down that was panicking, screaming that they needed to stop immediately.

“Lotion works too.”

Kyoya blinked. “Yeah… there’s, um… there’s lotion in the bathroom.”

Tamaki flashed that brilliant smile of his. “I’ll be right back then.” Kyoya continued to stand there, stunned, as Tamaki disappeared down the steps. Lube meant sex. He and Tamaki were about to have sex. That was a good thing, right? It was something he’d wanted for a while, and apparently Tamaki felt the same. But was he ready for sex? He’d imagined it, but never really put much thought into the actual mechanics of it. Since Tamaki had been the one to initiate things, did that put him on top? Kyoya’s pulse raced at the idea of having to bottom. He couldn’t do this…

All plans to end things and send Tamaki away disappeared when the blonde came back up the stairs. Shirtless, with messy hair and the button of his pants popped, accentuating the lines of his hips, Tamaki looked like some Greek god striding confidently toward him. Kyoya had never been able to say no to anything Tamaki wanted; why should this be any different?

With a practiced wiggle of his hips, Tamaki let his pants drop to the floor and stepped out of them. His shorts followed as he pulled Kyoya into another fervent kiss, pushing the brunet back toward the bed. Kyoya stopped when the backs of his knees touched it, but Tamaki’s hands on his shoulders urged him to sit. As soon as he did the blonde climbed into his lap, pushing him onto his back so they could have more skin touching as they kissed. Kyoya arched up against the blonde, grinding their erections together. Tamaki mouthed the skin at Kyoya’s neck, panting against him as he returned the gesture.

They came up for air after a bit, both panting heavily, and moved further up the bed. Kyoya kicked off his pants and shorts, flushing slightly at the realization that he’d stood with his pants around his ankles while Tamaki went to get the lotion. Tamaki knelt above him, intoxicated by the sight of Kyoya flushed and wanton. He glanced to the side, his eyes catching on the bottle of lotion lying atop the rumbled bedspread so innocuously. He bit his lip, reaching out for it. “Have you ever…” He gestured awkwardly with the bottle, flushing when Kyoya simply stared at him. “I’ve… by myself, but…” He looked away again, chewing his lip in sudden bout of nervousness.

“We don’t have to,” Kyoya offered, deciding to leave it entirely up to the blonde.

“Oh, no! I want to! I just…” he pushed the bottle into Kyoya’s hand, “prepare me?” Kyoya frowned at the bottle, the expression on his face similar to the one he generally wore in class during a pop quiz. Tamaki giggled at the correlation. “I can talk you through it; I just really want to feel what it’s like with your fingers… you know?”

Kyoya nodded. He really didn’t know, but he felt he was about to find out either way. Tamaki moved to sit next to him on the bed and then leaned back on his elbows, letting his knees fall to the sides so he was on full display. Kyoya took a deep breath and moved to kneel between Tamaki’s legs, his eyes roving hungrily over the flesh displayed before him. He popped open the bottle and waited for instruction.

“Just coat the three middle fingers of one hand. Use a lot; I don’t think there’s such a thing as too much, especially the first time.” Tamaki sounded nervous, and it only made Kyoya feel more anxious. “And you’ll want to start with just one finger. Go slow.” Kyoya nodded, smearing lotion across his fingers. He set the bottle aside and focused on his task. “It might help, too, if you rub a little around first.”

“Around?”

Tamaki thought about it for a few moments, apparently deciding it was too difficult to explain. “Like this,” he said, reaching down and swirling the tip of one finger around his hole. Kyoya’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. He nodded his understanding and followed the movement. The moment he touched skin, Tamaki’s hole twitched. He glanced up for reassurance – was that normal? – and continued when the blonde smiled encouragingly.

The first finger slipped in to the knuckle easily. Tamaki's breath hitched, and Kyoya looked up at him, holding his finger still while he asked, “Are you alright?”

Tamaki nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it's good. Just move it around a bit.” Kyoya did as instructed, starting with minuscule movements and continuing to watch Tamaki's face for signs of pain. As Tamaki relaxed and began moving his hips slightly to match Kyoya's rhythm, Kyoya began pressing deeper, harder. “Another,” Tamaki rasped. Kyoya was less cautious following this instruction, and once the two fingers were fully sheathed, he alternately spread and curled them. Tamaki gasped sharply, tossing his head back. “Oh fuck yes, right there!” Kyoya's eyes unfocused for a moment as he watched the blonde react, his fingers running on autopilot, rubbing over and over the little nub that had caused such a response. Tamaki moaned, “More…”

With the addition of a third finger, Kyoya found it hard to decide whether he'd rather watch emotions flit across Tamaki's face or watch his fingers disappearing again and again into the blonde's greedy hole. “You're so sexy.” Kyoya was barely even aware he'd said it, almost certainly wouldn't have said it under different circumstances, but Tamaki distracted him before he could overanalyze it as he was wont to do.

“Okay, enough,” Tamaki declared huskily. Kyoya removed his fingers and was promptly grabbed and tossed onto his back near the head of the bed. He started to ask what Tamaki was doing, but the answer was fairly obvious as Tamaki squeezed some lotion onto his hand, immediately rubbing it on Kyoya's throbbing length. The brunet gasped at the coldness, but it warmed quickly. Tamaki straddled him, holding Kyoya's dick in place as he slowly lowered himself onto it, a shuddering breath leaving him as he took it deeper. His brow furrowed in pain, his breathing quickened, but he sank the final inch, bowing his head once he felt Kyoya's hips beneath him.

Kyoya ran his hands up and down Tamaki's thighs, wanting to ask again if the blonde was alright but assuming if he wasn't then he would say so. Instead he lay there, enjoying the incredible heat and compression, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He was certain it wouldn't take much for him to come. He was glad Tamaki had chosen this position, as it made it nearly impossible for him to go too fast or do anything that might hurt his friend and now lover.

Tamaki finally started rocking his hips, tiny movements at first but then growing into a more circular motion that brought his hips up a few inches and then down, grinding deep before rising up again. Kyoya couldn't help but groan at the sensation. Tamaki was sucking him in deep, wrapped so tightly around him, and those little grinding movements seemed to ensure that every millimeter of his length was stroked.

Tamaki’s movements picked up speed, finding a decent rhythm. Kyoya rolled his hips upward to meet Tamaki’s downward motion, but found it difficult to keep the pace without proper leverage. He brought his feet up, bracing them on the bed, grabbed Tamaki’s hips, and thrust up while pulling the blonde down. Tamaki let out a startled moan. Kyoya was about to ask if he’d hurt him, when Tamaki panted, “Harder!” He repeated the motion a few times, but the angle was working against him. Bracing himself, he pushed Tamaki to the side, rolling over him. He pulled the blonde into a bruising kiss, grabbing his legs and lifting them high, almost bending the older boy in half. When Tamaki gasped, he knew he had the right spot and began thrusting into it as hard and fast as he could manage.

He was lost in sensation, concentrating hard to keep hitting the right spot as their bodies became slick with sweat. Tamaki was making the most amazing little noises with every breath. With one hand he reached up, sliding his fingers through Kyoya’s hair, and pulled the younger boy into another kiss. They couldn’t keep up their rhythm while kissing, so it only lasted a few moments, but it was enough to increase the intimacy between them. When they broke apart, Kyoya kept his head low and stared into Tamaki’s eyes. He could already feel the pressure building, but he wished this could last.

Tamaki’s eyelids fluttered, his breathing changing. He reached his free hand back to brace against the wall as he rolled his hips upward. He let out a faint moan, arching higher, almost as if he was searching for something. Kyoya released one of the legs he was holding and instead reached between them, stroking Tamaki in time with his thrusts. It was difficult to coordinate, throwing off his rhythm, but it only took a few strokes before Tamaki tossed back his head with a shout, spurting hotly between them.

Kyoya wasn’t sure what it was that threw him over the edge: the look of rapture on Tamaki’s face, the sound he made when he came, or the walls clamping down so tightly around him. Whatever it was, his vision went white and a faint buzzing filled his ears as he felt the most intense orgasm of his life. He knelt above his best friend for several minutes, regaining his senses, before rolling to lie next to the blonde with a satisfied sigh. Tamaki curled into him, resting his head on Kyoya’s chest. “Mmm… I needed that.”

Kyoya wrapped his fingers in silky strands of blond, trying not to let his mind start analyzing yet. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He wasn’t really agreeing; he simply needed to respond. Questions kept popping into his head: What did this mean? What would change between them? What happened next? Shouldn’t he feel as happy and carefree as Tamaki?

He didn’t really hear the chuckle, but he felt the blonde’s chest shake against his side. “You’re doing it again.” Kyoya made an inquisitive noise, unwilling to speak and risk his uncertainty being heard. “Thinking too hard.”

Kyoya looked away. “Am I supposed to just turn my brain off?”

Tamaki shrugged as well as he could in his position. “Why not? It works for me.”

Kyoya snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me. But for those of us who live in the real world, it’s not that easy.”

The blond inched his way up, grabbing Kyoya’s chin and turning him so they were face-to-face. Those violet eyes were imploring, and the brunet could feel his resolve crumbling. “Who says you have to spend your whole life in the real world?”

“Are you inviting me down the rabbit hole?”

“Oh, you’re already in Wonderland; I’m inviting you to stay a while.”

Kyoya looked past the blond, at the hookah that had at some point stopped smoldering and the beer. There were still four bottles. His gaze returned to Tamaki’s. “You know… I think I could use a vacation.”