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For a full moment, Kyoya found himself genuinely taken aback.
Of course, his friends weren't idiots -- well. He paused, amended that line of thought. Of course, his friends had their merits. But up until approximately two minutes ago no one in the host club had ever dispatched one of his propositions with the ease with which Kaoru had just done -- there were protests, certainly, Tamaki had a proclivity for wailing -- but expressing disagreement, pointing out potential flaws, and then offering a counter-suggestion?
When had Kaoru gotten so good at disagreeing?
It had gone like this; the host club were gathered in the room that was to become headquarters for the Boston edition of the host club. Kyoya had instructed everyone to remain behind briefly after their introductory classes for the day -- a mere formality, they all would have lingered anyway, glad to be in each others' company. He had recently finalised the general plans for the first quarter of the year, including an upcoming themed event; by virtue of their audience in Boston being entirely new, they didn't have to worry about repeating themes they'd already done back in Ouran, and had the liberty of choosing from existing props and costumes. Kyoya was quite pleased with this latter aspect in particular, it certainly saved them some in both material and labour costs. Lord knows that them choosing to share an apartment building, albeit in different units, rather than to stay in the dormitories, had not been their most economically sound choice.
Not that Kyoya -- or any of them -- would have begrudged it; Tamaki wanted to create a family, and he had. They were all attached to each other and far gone by this point, Kyoya mused as much to himself on the plane, right before neatly stuffing the earplugs in and effectively cutting off the sound of Tamaki and Hikaru's bickering.
Back to the matter at hand, Kyoya had laid out a draft that spanned no less than February till April, marked with fortnightly events and the suggested order of the themes. Since they only had a year in Boston, it seemed logical to cycle through the events more frequently than they had at Ouran, and to draw in as much profit as possible during this stint. "And so that means we'll be beginning with the classic knights theme in two weeks' time." Kyoya had concluded, snapping his tablet shut cleanly.
"It sounds alright," Kaoru had said, which was fine, and the beginning of it all. The ball dropped when he primly added, "I think it could be better."
Silence for all of one, two, three, and then...
"Backtalk," Tamaki gasped, "Mommy, he's backtalking you!"
Kyoya shifted his weight and merely snapped his stylus back into its holder with a deft motion of his fingers. While not quite backtalk, it was rare that anyone objected -- genuinely -- to Kyoya's plans, that were often instructions more than they were suggestions. It was more than rare that anyone insinuated that they were inadequate. Kyoya ran a quick, assessing gaze over Kaoru, but he seemed devoid of any mischief -- like he wasn't joking, and what's more, entirely serious, and the statement had been uttered solitarily, so it wasn't some sort of twin devilment either. Kaoru was attempting constructive criticism.
"Interesting," Kyoya finally said, giving nothing away.
Kaoru took this as an invitation. "I think the concept of themed events generally has worked for us. But I don't think we should start off with one so early this year; it sets an expectation for themed events, and I think if we do them so frequently the novelty will wear off quick."
"We haven't done any here," Kyoya pointed out fairly, "They don't know what to expect from the host club yet and so there is no such precedent for boredom."
Kaoru shook his head. "Exactly -- there isn't a precedent for our club, so starting off with events so early will establish them as the norm. Then we'd have to think of special events even more interesting, and probably more extravagant." Although he'd been quite self-assured up until this point, Kaoru suddenly blinked, looking at Kyoya with an abrupt abashedness as if it had only just registered who he was speaking to. "Which-- which would incur more funds, which probably... which would probably be -- um, undesirable. In your opinion."
"In my opinion." Kyoya repeated, slowly.
Darting his tongue quickly across his bottom lip, Kaoru seemed to figure that he had already gone this far in making his case.
"You said it yourself, 'The longer the wait, the greater the pleasure'."
"Context matters, Kaoru." But Kyoya was surprised that Kaoru remembered something so specific. "And that was with regard to Mori-senpai and Hani-senpai's duel."
"Which you were framing as a club event," Kaoru noted, regaining some of his momentum. "So the contexts are very comparable, actually."
Tamaki's sharp intake of breath was not lost on anyone. "Are they-- are they fighting?" he squawked, flailing his arms distressedly and failing to keep his voice to a secretive hush.
Kaoru sighed, now. "If you look at the statistics--"
(And here, if Kyoya had been a lesser man, he might have gawked at these words from Kaoru's mouth. Since he was not at all a lesser man, his jaw only went slightly slack.)
"--from back at Ouran, you can see that during periods where we had themed events closest together, like when we did the tropical theme, the sakura ball and superheroes within a month, the attendance for the last of the events always dwindles significantly."
"Kao-chan!!" Hani-senpai's admiration was unbridled and gushing and characteristic. "When did you get so smart!!?"
Kyoya wanted to know, too.
"You keep the monthly numbers in the Google drive," Kaoru said, with a bit of a frown, knowing that Kyoya should already know this. "The link is pinned in the group chat."
Kyoya chose to offer him no more then a practised tilt of his head. "Yes, for my ease of access." He thought on this and decided to give Kaoru a little more. "I didn't think any of you bothered to look."
"I don't," Hikaru scoffed.
"Me neither," Haruhi supplied, honest as always.
Kaoru shrugged, then he risked another look at Kyoya, and a bout of minute expressions flashed across his face before it settled back into steel. "What I'd like to suggest is that we hold a few regular sessions, then we have the first themed event as a commemoration at the end of February."
"What do you think, Kyoya-senpai?" Hikaru, direct in his manner seemed to think that Kaoru had said his piece, although the small look that he shot his twin solidified to Kyoya the notion that this hadn't been discussed between them at all.
"I think Kaoru has a point," Haruhi tossed in her vote. Even if Kyoya suspected that this had to do with all of them knowing that the less they dressed up, the less opportunity Tamaki and Hikaru had for badgering her into some sort of ruffle-and-lace, she simply tilted her head and looked Kyoya in the eye. "It'll also give us a some time to get used to our new environment."
And if Haruhi was in favour, then there lay a certain blond's persuasions-- and, after all, Tamaki was their king. The matter was settled.
Kyoya pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose and considered that he had been outmanoeuvred.
Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
Kyoya was familiar with the concept, but now he considered the technicalities of this statement with specific regard to Kaoru. He was by all means a fair enough friend, but also a newly-minted enemy -- though not for being inherently evil, just directly in competition with Kyoya himself. He turned these points over in his mind carefully, deciding what the parameters should be for such a situation based on so many nuanced qualifications.
Kaoru, wrote the text message, As you are aware, Tamaki has invited all of us to Haruhi's birthday party that will be held in about two weeks from now. The dress code is formal, and as such, I will require...
His fingers hovered over his keyboard. This was perhaps too formal, he considered. Kyoya personally enjoyed formality, he thought that it was indicative of respect and had always kept to a degree of propriety, even on the ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ʚ host fam(ily)! ɞ. ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა group chat mechanism that Tamaki had set up (and which he frequently and shamelessly used for forwarding cute videos of dogs and small children). However, the Hitachiins were irreverent and comfortable with everyone and he wondered if, if he wanted to gain Kaoru's trust, he should attempt a more casual approach.
He hit backspace in a series of quick and repeated taps.
Kaoru, he amended, Would you indulge me in accompanying me to look at suits? I would like to be suitably dressed for the occasion of Haruhi's birthday and I believe you to be somewhat knowledgeable on the matter.
He thought about it.
Glancing over the phrase "somewhat knowledgeable", he deftly removed "somewhat" -- all the better for a gentle, subtle flattery of Kaoru's smart dress sense, which Kyoya knew to be true and therefore concluded that Kaoru would be unlikely to turn down the offer based on an incorrect assessment of his own talents. He pressed send.
The response pinged back almost immediately.
Of course! Kaoru chirped. Then, High and mighty Shadow King wants my help? :o
Kyoya stalled at the nickname. He knew of it, of course, but Kaoru calling Shadow King to his face was-- was different. It was a disparaging address, certainly, but rather familiar and he supposed it took a degree of fondness, of the deprecating type, in the same vein that the twins called Tamaki milord and adjacent to the way Haruhi had begun to look at them all right before they'd all grown on her rapidly, like a rash.
Fine, Kyoya thought, allowing a content smile to ease across his mouth. Let him gloat, for now.
He tapped out, I'll pick you up at noon. - Best regards (amended this to a more concise Yours) Shadow King, K.O.
The first thing was that he had to stop underestimating Kaoru, effective immediately. The second thing was that he should never have allowed the precedent of Kaoru in his house and in his bed back at the Ootori estate to be established.
It had been quite some time since this had last happened-- been quite a while since they'd dealt with that lawyer together. Yet the fact of the matter was that Kyoya was roused ahead of his set alarm time to the rumbling sound of Kaoru snoozing soundly, folded neat and compact atop the duvet on the other half of Kyoya's mattress. Kyoya narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It is possible that Kaoru meant to throw him off guard -- by this point in their game, Kyoya trusted that Kaoru understood that he was very much an Ootori in valuing decorum and convention.
He weighed the situation. Kaoru was very well aware of his low blood pressure and his lack of a reputation as a morning person, but somehow it seemed unlikely that Kaoru had been intending to ambush Kyoya in his weakness. This recent rivalry aside, they were by all other means friends and honestly -- Kyoya chided himself -- this sort of James Bond-esque sabotage conjecture was far-fetched and beneath him.
But how had Kaoru even gotten in? He scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose before reaching for his glasses. Resolving to be more conscious of where he put his sets of keys -- if Kaoru had swiped a set, it wouldn't be long before Tamaki would too. And then probably Hikaru, too, if only just to antagonise Tamaki, then perhaps Mitsukuni, on a whim. Kyoya considered going back to sleep.
He reached for his phone on the nightstand, intending to check the time at the exact moment that his alarm went off; this at once indicated to him that it was noon, and had Kaoru startling awake with an undignified jolt that brought him face to face with Kyoya.
Kyoya glowered; the very least that Kaoru deserved was some instilment of fear. Sure enough, Kaoru went pale, grogginess sapped from his body fast as anything as he snapped upright and launched into a babble -- "I knew you'd oversleep so I came to wake you but you just looked so peaceful and I noticed you've been having trouble sleeping so it just felt wrongtowakeyouupandIdozedoffandI'msorry!" He took a deep, steadying breath although his eyes never left Kyoya's face, huge and wide. "Please don't bite."
"I don't bite." He stared down at Kaoru, whose gaze was still riveted so fixedly on him that it made something knot disconcertingly in his chest. Kyoya bubbled over with the overwhelming need to dispell that thickness in the atmosphere. "In bed or otherwise."
At this, Kaoru drew in a breath, eyes widening in surprise and mouth falling slightly open, then the corners of his mouth quirked just as quickly into a rapidly widening smile, and he broke into giggles. "What is that supposed to mean?" He teased. "Kyoya-senpai, are you joking?"
"Get out of my bed."
To his credit, Kaoru complied. No doubt that he still recalled the punishing friction of Kyoya's knuckles against his temples; good. As much as Kyoya's intention was to seek the younger Hitachiin out and to understand his motivations better, too many liberties between them still wouldn't be acceptable.
Then again... Kaoru had taken up position against the corner of his room, head lolling lazily against the wall. While Kyoya made to swing his legs sluggishly off the bed, he decided easily for the both of them, "I'll grab breakfast while you get ready. Something with sugar, and coffee." Kyoya certainly didn't respond to the extent of perking up at that last bit, but perhaps his face had twitched minutely into some sort of anticipation rather than his outright, just-woken ill-humour, because Kaoru caught his eye and there it was again, another one of those disarming smiles. "Definitely coffee, then."
Perhaps some liberties were alright.
Despite all the twins' initial gripes about Boston when there was no doubt they would have preferred somewhere predictably more familiar like New York, Kaoru and Hikaru had made quick work of scouring their neighbourhood and picking out all manner of trendy boutiques, bars and cafes within the first week. Hikaru especially had proven extremely adept at compiling an itemised and detailed bot function on their group chat that allowed them to effectively browse their options, and Kyoya had been suitably impressed. It seemed that Hikaru took a keener interest in their father's specialisations than Kyoya had initially realised, where Kaoru possessed his continual interest in fashion.
Certainly, he exercised that interest liberally now. "Stop looking at those, they look exactly like the Ouran uniform." Kaoru chided, steering Kyoya steadily by the arm away from a rack of bluish suits. "Man, this would've been much easier if tono had picked a theme. Of all times he decided not to..."
"I'm sure Haruhi will be appreciative of the simplicity."
Kaoru threw his head back and laughed, the column of his throat long and lovely. Kyoya furrowed his brow minutely; he was so... not quite carefree, but gently exuberant. Bright. It was different from Hikaru's abrasive roguery and Tamaki's manic cheer. "You think an extravagant hotel ballroom and courtyard with two hundred guests is simple?"
"If we're speaking honestly, it's quite juvenile," Kyoya answered, making sure to sound quite unruffled, "Though I suppose Haruhi might not be inclined to agree."
"Sure," Kaoru agreed gaily. "I'm sure it only took you an hour or so to pull everything together. You're a master."
"Except," Kyoya said thoughtfully, fingers deliberate as he considered a rich maroon tie, "For when it comes to decisions on club events, I suppose."
Kaoru snorted at that, and Kyoya looked up, glasses flashing. "Put that tie down, I hate the print."
Kyoya found himself acquiescing, to which Kaoru immediately offered him a pleased smile, before picking up where Kyoya had left his accusation. "Your plan would've worked too. Your plans always work."
"Pray tell why you put up such a case, then?"
Kaoru shrugged, and Kyoya was beginning to notice this gesture as a particular habit of his, flippant and light and often exaggerated by Kaoru's penchant for wide-necked knits that hung thinly off one shoulder. He seemed to have taken to this particular fashion now that they were outside of the Ouran uniform, and not only that, but his hair was growing out far longer than school regulations; and far longer than Hikaru's.
"I made a good point too." he said confidently, flipping frivolously through a bevy of grey-wooled blazers. He paused to pick one out and run his fingers over the inside seam of the lapel, before replacing it on its hanger. "And I wanted to contribute to the discussion. It's about the principle... all in this together."
"You and Haruhi were watching High School Musical again." Kyoya chose to observe.
Kaoru only raised his shoulder again into that quick, lazy drop, attention elsewhere in the room. With a short gasp, he'd wrapped his fingers around Kyoya's wrist and yanked him toward a rack sitting under a bright patch of sunlight pouring in from a tall window.
"Kaoru."
"Oh, this would be nice." He said, ignoring Kyoya. It didn't seem deliberate. It was easy to see the way his eyes were alight with an excited spark that hadn't been there before. He rummaged through the selection and crooned when he held what he was looking for in his hands, handing it to Kyoya.
Kyoya ran an assessing eye over the garment. "It's... short."
"Kyoya Ootori has never heard of a cropped blazer." Kaoru quipped, rolling his eyes. "Go figure. Put it on."
"I have my misgivings."
"You brought me along for my advice, now I'm giving it." Kaoru said pointedly. "Fitting room is that way."
Kyoya found himself, not for the first time since they'd arrived in Boston, complying.
"Okay."
To Kyoya's surprise, he didn't mind the "cropped blazer" as much as he thought he might have. Kaoru seemed delighted, launching himself into explaining the technicality of why it looked good; "You're tall and thin and built like a stick--"
"Thank you."
"A very debonair stick, of course. But this suits your proportions well, oh, and I bet this would be great if I could add a vest under it. We'll take the pants that go with it." He paused, if not for breath, then for thought. "I think..." he murmured, gazing at Kyoya, expression equal parts soft and intense, and Kyoya was stunned to find that for the shortest of seconds he was unsure how to act under this particular scrutiny, before settling on tucking his thumbs nonchalantly into his pockets and clearing his throat.
He was startled again almost immediately by Kaoru closing the distance between them.
"Hey--"
"Here," Kaoru swiped the glasses off his face and Kyoya made an offended noise. "And..." Kaoru's fingers were in his hair, pushing the strands back.
Kyoya held his breath sharply.
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Kaoru gave him a wry smile. "You look nice. Very sexy, evil CEO. Christian Grey."
"I don't know if any of those latter things are compliments."
"'You look nice' and 'sexy' are most definitely compliments," Kaoru decided. "The rest depends on how much you might enjoy tying up your secretaries."
"Not at all, I hope." Kyoya said drily. "Give me my glasses."
Suit purchased, it turned out that the next place that Kaoru wanted to go was a place that sold pizza slices for a dollar that he had found on some corner of the Internet. Low-hanging bars of warm yellow light, a distinct greasiness to the tables, the floor, the counter, and every other available surface, with a vague, ongoing hum emitting from whatever generators kept the place going. The pizza slices were large, the dough undercooked and cheese rubbery.
It was all rather pedestrian. Kaoru had grease dripping down his chin and was trying to lick at it with his tongue.
"This is not good." Kyoya remarked neutrally, setting his slice back down.
"No, it isn't." Kaoru agreed, cleaning his fingers off on a napkin. "I'm going to get another slice. Do you want anything?"
Kyoya declined and Kaoru shrugged. He returned with a cola and a pizza slice as promised, and a small paper bag that was already wet through with oil. "Garlic bread." Kaoru said by way of explanation, holding the bag out to Kyoya.
Kyoya peered into it and hesitated. It smelled like garlic and butter and cheese, as did anything else within the establishment. Kaoru laughed at his pause and Kyoya levelled him with a look. Kaoru shrugged and reached into the bag himself, pulling out a twisted knot of bread and placing it on the side of Kyoya's paper plate.
"You're cute," he said as if it were nothing, rummaging into the bag for a piece for himself. "Like this. Out of your element, doing commoner things."
"I'm not sure what you mean." Kyoya took a bite of his garlic knot only short of vindictively.
"You're very cute," Kaoru just said, again, and Kyoya paused mid-bite -- if only for the very briefest of seconds before he compensated for the discontinuity with a quick chew-and-swallow of unflappable countenance.
A curt no lay at the tip of his tongue, and his lips pulled into beginnings of a downturn, before he surprised Kaoru with nothing more than a resigned sigh. "If you think so, then there is nothing withholding you from that perspective, regardless of any contention I might offer."
And then-- and then Kaoru beamed at him, so bright and so genuine that he nearly forgot about the game they were playing right there, and this is when Kyoya had his second discovery, perhaps more startling than the first -- when had Kaoru gotten so good at disagreeing with him?
It wasn't that Kyoya minded banter. In fact, he might have even enjoyed it. It was just that, well--
Frankly, it was quite gauche that Kaoru had taken to flirting with Kyoya in order to disarm him -- it was a bit cheap, in Kyoya's opinion, but he could begrudgingly admit that it was clever. It played into Kaoru's natural charm and his evident good looks, and, delving deeper into his analysis of the situation, Kyoya noted duly that Kaoru being the more reserved and certainly, more mature and emotionally composed twin made deviance look all the more alluring on him.
It was simply unfortunate that the full force of this allure had been turned on Kyoya for the entirety of a day. Made worse, -- Kyoya groaned, flipping onto his side and pressing the pillow over his head as if to quell the thoughts-- by his own doing; he'd asked Kaoru to accompany him after all.
Kyoya was playing a game he'd started, and he was losing.
"I can dress myself."
Kyoya's voice bordered on aghast but managed to negotiate a territory somewhere on indignance instead.
Kaoru ignored all of the warning tone -- it was disturbing how adept he was becoming at it -- and removed the blazer from its hanger. "I know you can, Kyoya-senpai," he responded smoothly, "It would simply be faster if I helped."
Kyoya glared for all that he was worth, fingers working deftly on the sleeves of his shirt as he tugged and buttoned the cuffs in an incredibly competent demonstration, his expression withering.
"Come on," Kaoru muttered, "Don't be like that. Hasn't dressing the host club always been my job?"
"Did you pay everyone else an individual visit on this occasion?"
Kaoru made a face and stuck his tongue out at Kyoya as he approached with the suit. "I have a personal stake in this."
Kyoya shrugged himself into the blazer as Kaoru tugged it into place; sensing his continued grudgingness, Kaoru began to reason. "Think of it as a pragmatic arrangement; I have expertise in getting people dressed, and you need to get dressed. Also, I chose this suit and I want to see it to its occasion."
"Expertise in getting people dressed is a surprisingly contrary skill."
"Why, senpai!" Kaoru looked up at him from doing up his buttons, thoroughly delighted. "I would've thought innuendoes were beneath you."
"I'm in a host club," Kyoya deadpanned, "With several other men, two of which happen to be you and your twin."
"That's fair." Kaoru conceded.
Kyoya noted the efficiency with which Kaoru's fingers moved along his waistcoat; they were practised and deft, and Kyoya found himself quite admiring of Kaoru in that moment. It felt like a bit of a privileged moment, watching Kaoru work on something seriously whereas in the setting of their group he would have been bar-for-bar with Hikaru's shenanigans.
He adjusted the dark pinstriped fabric over Kyoya's waist, tucking the undershirt straight and tauter. Fingers pressed warmly against his side. Suddenly, Kyoya found it slightly hard to breathe.
Grasping, he brought up, coolly. "You've been enjoying being patronising of late, Kaoru."
Kaoru's fingers stilled and it almost instantly filled Kyoya with regret.
"Patronising?" Kaoru asked disbelievingly.
"Yes." Kyoya refused to be ruffled, scanning over Kaoru's wide-eyed expression -- he would not be taken in by the act of pretty-boy innocence, and made a point of telling Kaoru as much aloud. "I do believe," he further added, "That it was shortly after we'd bought this suit, and you called me, I quote, 'cute' --"
Oh.
And that was when it hit Kyoya all at once, a stab of burning heat rushing to his face and flaming at the tips of his ears, gathering hotly at his collar, and culminating in the moment that Kaoru said, "You think I'm pretty!" as Kyoya stared, horrified and quite dumbfounded in a way he had never, ever been in his entire life.
"Kyoya-senpai," Kaoru said slowly, "Were you-- were you being petulant?"
"No such thing." Kyoya insisted, manageably imperious for someone whose face had gone red. It was assuaged by the realisation that Kaoru's cheeks were branded just as pink.
"You were being petulant." Kaoru confirmed, although his statement was wholly lacking accusation. "And you also--"
"Stop." Kyoya was openly embarrassed now.
"You think I'm--"
"It was an offhand observation--"
"You like me."
The last statement came like a gunshot, slicing between them and rendering any protests Kyoya might have been about to utter mute on his tongue. He clamped his jaw shut, tight and tense and gave Kaoru his sharpest look -- the other boy had similarly fallen silent, and Kyoya didn't miss the way his eyes were round as moons and his mouth trembled nervously; still, he held Kyoya's gaze and his chin high, and Kyoya saw that before him the chessboard had been upended and he felt like he was one of the pieces, free-falling through the air.
He cleared his throat and noted, with a surprising lack of bitterness, that he had been the one to look away first.
"I--" He began. Paused. "Had not come to that conclusion myself. Yet. However--"
He cut himself off abruptly and took a careful step towards Kaoru now. He shoved his hands into his pockets, conscious of the casualness of the motion, and inclined his head measuredly. "If you weren't making sport of me, what did you think you were doing?"
"Flirting," Kaoru said, astonished, "Heavily."
Kyoya only just managed to choke out, "You've been making additional suggestions to plans and providing a constant stream of criticism."
"Which are related to your interests!" Kaoru's cheeks had gone quite bright red, and Kyoya took notice of the way the colour looked, bloomed rosily across his expression and clashing with his hair. "I wanted to be helpful, to show you that we could be-- we could be-- partners!"
"Partners," Kyoya repeated.
"You're blushing."
"So are you." Kyoya, even now, was not one to let someone else get the last word in. Kaoru didn't deny this, just stared expectantly, in the way that Kyoya had learnt over the past week. He coughed softly and then lowered his gaze, speaking to Kaoru quite gently now.
"You're not upset?" Kyoya asked, "That I was--"
"That you were testing me?" Kaoru grinned.
Kyoya looked away. "That I was playing games." He corrected, lips pulling flat into a thin expression of distate. "I suppose I am ashamed."
"You wouldn't be you if you hadn't." Here, the grin got somehow, impossibly, wider. "And in any case, I already knew how to play."
An agreeable silence fell between them now.
"Hey," Kaoru said, softly. "Can I...?"
As far as Kyoya was concerned, he'd played this game well -- and yet, here he was, at Kaoru's mercy.
Kaoru, who had been playing a different, better game for them both, and who now stood before him, victorious and radiant and offering Kyoya his prize.
"I suppose that would be in order."
"'That would be in order'!" Kaoru mimicked cruelly, then crowed, "Shut up, you nerd!" -- and kissed him.