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Tamaki had called him about a million times that day. Not that Kyoya minded - although he had to do his best to act the part of the annoyed friend. Eventually he gave in and just went to Tamaki’s house like he’d been requested to do all afternoon.
“Kyoya! You’re here!” Tamaki greeted, his eyes lighting up as he tugged Kyoya into the hall by his sleeve.
Of course he was there. Why wouldn’t he be? Tamaki had to have known that Kyoya always caved. It was a wonder he managed to act even remotely surprised every time the boy showed up on his doorstep with his laptop and always a little present.
Today it was a stuffed animal. An odd one at that. It was an anteater, about 11 inches tall and rather small width wise. It was a dusty mix of pink and orange, with small beady black eyes. Tamaki was mesmerized, to say the absolute least. The minute he spotted it he launched his puppy eyes on Kyoya until it was handed to him with an amused grin.
“Let’s name her.. hm.. How does Annette sound?”
“I don’t really care what you name it, Tamaki,” Kyoya replied, smiling in a slight manner and following a bouncing Tamaki to his room.
“Okay! What movie should we watch?” Tamaki asked once they were all settled in. They’d made pretzels, and had some bottled water. The perfect movie food.
Kyoya just pushed his laptop - already opened to a movie streaming site - towards his friend, wrinkling the comforter, having assumed he’d already picked something out in his mind.
“Annette! Thoughts?”
Tamaki lifted the plushie to his face, just inches from his nose, as if he were actually consulting it. Kyoya couldn’t help but laugh - Tamaki always knew what he wanted to watch, why was he asking the stuffed animal? But it dawned on him that this was just his way of showing how much he loved the little gift.
“Why are you laughing?! Unlike you, Annette is opinionated and I need help picking the movie!”
“‘Annette’ is a stuffed anteater and, for your information, I am opinionated. I just don’t have the willpower to fight with you over something I know for a fact you’re already settled on. Now go on, click on that French drama movie you’ve been eyeing since we opened the laptop. And turn on subtitles this time.”
Tamaki turned to him with a sheepish, private smile and dragged the mouse to said movie.
They sat in silence for a while, the movie just had a lot of confusing scenes about French people crying. The talking was barren but rapid-fire, the subtitles slow and hardly coherent. The whole thing was wreaking havoc in Kyoya’s straight-forward, logical brain. Why were those guys hugging? Are they best friends or brothers? Why is-? Why is Tamaki crying?
“All right?” Kyoya asked, a bit freaked out. Tamaki was usually happy. Though definitely in touch with his emotions, he wasn’t often like this. His lip was trembling and his brow was furrowed, his eyes settled blearily on the screen. Although unsure, he reached out and placed a hand on his crying best friend’s shoulder.
“How aren’t you a disaster, Kyoya?!! This movie is a tragedy!” It was amusing, how he managed to sound so exasperated but with such a shake in his voice. Tamaki dove closer to Kyoya, collapsing onto him, his head on his chest, body half in his lap.
On his way, he noticed Kyoya’s paper plate, still clad with 2 hot (cold, now) pretzels. He picked one up, pushing it against Kyoya’s lips.
“Hey, why haven’t you eaten? I poured my soul into these! There’s just the right amount of salt, if you don’t eat it, I will! Well-” he stopped rambling momentarily to poke at Kyoya’s ribs through the black, short-sleeved button up he was wearing. “-Maybe I won’t. You’re thin..”
Tamaki leaned his head closer to Kyoya.
“You need to take care of yourself, mon ami. You can’t put your work over your health!”
Kyoya was startled to say the least. They had gone from watching a movie feet apart from each other to extremely close contact. If he turned his neck down a bit, he could see the pale plane of Tamaki’s chest down his shirt, his stomach fit and flexing against the drawstring waistband of his pajama pants.
“I suppose I could eat one,” he conceded, poking at the plush breading with a fingernail.
Tamaki’s face lit up all over again, taking that as an invitation to eat the other one. He broke it in half and stuck one of them in his mouth, biting down and savoring the saltiness. Kyoya didn’t know what he was doing; his arm was moving and he was trying to make it stop but it just wouldn’t and suddenly he was about a foot from Tamaki’s face, ripping off some of the pretzel sticking out of his mouth. And then putting it in his own.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the salt was melting on his tongue and his teeth were tearing through the bread. He couldn’t help the noise of surprise that he made, though he was suddenly embarrassed by it.
Tamaki was looking at him weirdly. His eyes were squinted and he was still chewing, his chin jutting out just slightly and he looked like he was figuring out a math problem in his head.
“Kyoya..”
“Yes, Tamaki?” he asked, breathlessly.
“Your.. your hair. Your hair is longer.”
Kyoya’s hand flew to the back of his neck, his nails scraping through it to confirm the fact though he knew it was true.
“Don’t look so startled, it’s nice.”
Kyoya swallowed his pretzel and resumed his usual look of neutrality. He breathed in deeply, trying to stay as composed as possible. For some reason he was askew today. Off-beat, maybe. It was just a weird day. Usually he had no trouble keeping calm, no matter how close or far Tamaki was to him.
“Yours is, too.”
Tamaki looked startled at the interruption.
“Your hair, I mean,” Kyoya added. Obviously. Why’d I say that? “It’s longer.” Stop talking.
Tamaki grinned and picked up the other half of his pretzel, shifting his gaze in a way that Kyoya could take as nothing other than a challenge. So he leaned closer and bit some off. It wasn’t like he’d kissed him. There were about 5 inches of the pretzels still sticking out of his mouth, and Kyoya had taken maybe 1. But still. Their mouths had been that close.
Kyoya’s heart started racing again. As if Tamaki knew, he reached out a hand, his palm flattening over the center of Kyoya’s ribcage. As if he’d transferred some energy or confidence to him, Kyoya felt.. alive. Not that he’d been dead before, maybe just dull.
And he leaned in again. His hand, on Tamaki’s lips, ripping almost all the pretzel away. Instead of eating, he placed it back on the plate, his fingers still touching the corners of Tamaki’s mouth. And again, leaning in, but this time with his mouth, and instead of biting into some pretzel he just kept leaning until his lips reached the other boy’s.
And they were soft. Not chapped, just so soft. Kyoya knew this wasn’t the correct way to put it, but Tamaki’s lips felt like pink. The kiss was sloppy, impatient, and when Tamaki opened his mouth, the remaining (in-tact) chunk of pretzel slipped onto Kyoya’s tongue.
He let out a laugh of shock, and Tamaki laughed with him, revelling in the delightful sound of Kyoya’s laugh. Wait, shit! Kyoya had just kissed him! Why? Did he like it? Wait, why didn’t he panic as soon as it happened?
And suddenly Kyoya looked just as panicked as Tamaki. They sat there for a mortifying moment, mouths agape and the tiniest bit swollen.
“You- You kissed me. Kyoya, you-”
“I’m aware.”
He pushed his glasses back up on his nose from where they’d slid down.
“I liked it. Wait- I liked it? I liked it. Oh my God- I’m, am I? Am- When have- What the-”
Kyoya looked angry when he brought a hand up to the back of Tamaki’s neck and gripped the shaggy, curly parts of his hair where it’d been growing out.
“Don’t freak out.”
Tamaki inhaled and gripped the sheets where his legs had been warming them up. He was being uncharacteristically shifty, quietly biting his lip and sloping all his weight to one side.
“Listen, I.. I love you. Tamaki, I love you. Please, just- just-”
And within seconds his shine was back, filling up the whole bed the way that his physical being did when he extended his legs fully. He dove back onto Kyoya, placing his head in his lap and stretching out his legs and arms like a cat on it’s back.
“I think I love you too, mon ami. Je vraiment le faire." His eyes looked glossy for a moment and Kyoya was worried he’d cry again but Tamaki just began to laugh.
“I love how you look from this angle. It’s like you’re not so serious looking now. I can really see you from here,” he grinned.
“I think that might just be what I look like right now,” Kyoya responded.
Tamaki grabbed his chin and tilted it a bit. “Hm.. maybe. But I still think you look different here.” He arched up enough to meet Kyoya’s lips again in a chaste kiss. It was an uncomfortable position but they didn’t really care.
Kyoya glanced out the window, double taking immediately. It was dark out now. How long had they spent in silence between their stringy conversations? It was almost like a dream but they were awake. Time was passing and things were happening and Kyoya felt hazy. Years of pining and all it took was a dumb movie and some pretzels. He wasn’t sure that’s how he wanted it to go.
“I guess I should go. It’s dark.”
“Non. N’absolument pas! We just professed our love! C’mon, it’s chilly, get under the comforter!!”
Kyoya looked at Tamaki’s eyes and they were completely sincere and he couldn’t say no. He'd just have to come up with an excuse to tell his father about why he wasn't home. Tamaki was worth it. Instead of actually responding he just let a smile crack through onto his lips - his lips felt stretchy, he never smiled, let alone this many times in a day - and slid under the blanket, pulling off his button down and leaving himself in a t-shirt and the pajama pants he’d been forced to put on earlier. Now he was thankful, obviously.
Tamaki grinned even wider than thought possible and slid in right next to him, allowing himself to be captured in Kyoya’s arms and reciprocating his, pressing a kiss to his nose and taking off his glasses for him. It was so warm and even though everything felt weird and insane, he was still happy.
It was remarkable, Kyoya thought, how perfectly they fit together. And, the last thing he thought before drifting off to a happy sleep in the happy arms of his happy Tamaki was on the subject of Annette. Annette like an ant, because she’s an anteater? He laughed to himself, mind finally quieting down and allowing him to slip into the grasp of sleep.