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1. In the host club
“I’m the cool type. My whole appeal is that I’m nothing like you,” Kyoya sighed.
To be perfectly frank, Tamaki isn’t sure how anyone could ever find that appealing. Of course he was too much of a gentleman to ever say so.
“Even so,” Tamaki continued smoothly. “It never hurts to have a few extra cards in your arsenal. “What if–.”
“Tamaki?”
Tamaki startled at the quiet quality of his voice, “Yes?”
“Do me a favor?”
Tamaki smiled, “Why, of course, Kyoya. Whatever you like.”
“Then please,” Tamaki leaned forward in anticipation, “shut up,”
Tamaki nearly fell forward, arms swinging wildly to regain his balance, he gasped, “Betrayal. Sacrilege. Brutality. Am I not your dearest friend?”
Kyoya sighed once again, slumping into his chair in a manner most unlike him, which only added fuel to the flames since a handsome young man such as Kyoya himself should really carry himself with an elegance befitting his beauty.
That is to say, Tamaki found himself spending the next hour informing an exasperated Kyoya about the hidden secrets of wooing the fairer sex.
2. In the middle of the night, or well, very very early morning
The first thing Kyoya says upon answering the phone is, “Tamaki if you aren’t dead or in the process of dying I will kill you myself.”
“So violent,” Tamaki sniffed. “How would anyone fall for that?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I figured you’d be more open to my suggestions in a more vulnerable state, such as under the blanket of night.”
“It’s 4 AM,” Kyoya gritted out. Tamaki felt phantom hands shaking his collar and he shifted uncomfortably in bed.
“So, the proper way to answer a phone call from your best friend would be either of the following—.”
Click .
It took Tamaki a few extra moments, it was very early after all, to realize that Kyoya had hung up on him! The audacity!
(Of course Tamaki failed to realize how impressive it was that Kyoya picked up at all.)
3. In the host club, again
“So, tell me, Akira. What do you like best about Kyoya?”
Kyoya, who had been pouring Akari a cup of tea, paused and shot him a suspicious look, one that Tamaki happily ignored.
“I like his face,” Akari says happily, shamelessly.
“His beauty is indisputable,” Tamaki says patiently. “What I’m asking is for an answer that has to do more with what he does that's so special?”
“Hmm,” Akari ponders, looking thoughtful, eyeing Kyoya’s face in consideration. Kyoya, who had kept his placid smile, tilted his head. His hair slid over his forehead and his glasses winked back at you.
Tamaki cleared his throat, reclaiming Akari’s attention, “So, what do you think?”
“I think I like the way he tilts his head,” Akari breathes, dark eyes starry.
Tamaki tried to keep all signs of frustration from crossing his face. “Yes, but what about his demeanor, his personality.”
“Uhm, I,” Akari watched as Kyoya, who had his eyes on the exchange, slants her a look so full of sophisticated mirth (was that even a combination? it was with Kyoya around apparently!) that Tamaki couldn’t really blame her when she said, “Wait, what’s the question again?”
“Never mind him,” Kyoya cuts in smoothly, passing Akari her cup of tea. “He was just about to leave anyway. So, Akari, tell me more about your trip to the states. New York, you said?”
Tamaki turned on his heel and stalked away.
Later..
“It’s not her fault she couldn't answer you. She’s relatively new, she isn’t used to seeing us both side by side with the intent to charm her.”
Tamaki didn’t say that Akari only had eyes for Kyoya. That wouldn’t really prove his point.
“It’s not like I can ask your regular clients,” he points out instead. “They’re too loyal to you. They’d lie and say the found you charming.”
Kyoya sighs, and there was something about the sigh that made Tamaki want to preach about the many ways to woo a lady. And so he did.
4. In class
“Are you worried about the exam today?” Tamaki asked him, leaning close so that his sie pressed into Kyoya’s. So close he could smell the spicy deodorant he uses after every shower, not to be confused with his daily deodorant.
Kyoya presses his shoulder, allowing for distance and seats himself. Tamaki follows suit.
“Of course not,” Kyoya says, shooting him an absent minded smile as he gets his pens and pencils neatly set. “And you shouldn’t be worried either. We know the material backwards.”
Tamaki’s jaw dropped, he proceeded to point to his face, “You made me blush.”
He was blushing, an incriminating warmth all over his face and ears. Burning fierce in his chest.
“Shut up,” Kyoya hissed. “The professor is about to hand us the exams.”
“You made me blush because that was a sincere compliment,” Tamaki teaches. “See? See how well being courteous works?
“It wasn’t a compliment, moron. It was a statement,” Kyoya says lowly, careful to not get caught speaking so harshly. Tamaki didn’t mind it one bit, not bothering to lower his voice a single decibel.
“I’m wooed,” Tamaki says seriously, meaning it as a joke but also meaning it .
“Gentleman, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
Tamaki perked up, beaming, “Only that Kyo–”
Kyoya pinched his thigh and Tamaki yelped, quieting down quick enough to hear Kyoya growl, “ Shut up ”.
+1) in the host club, alone
“You think that I can be a better host using your techniques?” Kyoya asked, looming over a seater Tamaki glare digging into him so deeply that he nearly felt gutted by it alone. “Hmm?”
“Everyone can stand to learn a thing or two,” Tamaki says magnanimously. “Truly–.”
“Then let me show you,” Kyoya went around him, his hand brushing Tamaki’s left shoulder in a quick squeeze, a hint of something warm gone way too quick, “how I host, hmm?”
Tamaki’s mouth had gone dry. It took him a few extra moments for him to manage a “ What ?”
“You don’t think I’m wooing the ladies sufficiently. I’ll prove to you that I am and you’ll drop it. I say that getting you to blush three times should suffice. Deal?”
“I’m a boy,” Tamaki points out, in case Kyoya had forgotten.
Kyoya scoffs, “I’m perfectly aware. That should only raise the challenge since you aren’t attracted to me.”
Tamaki was going to argue that was false and insist that Kyoya accept defeat before deciding that his dignity was more important that being subject to this. Besides, being doted on by Kyoya sounded quite nice.
“Do we have a deal?”
Tamaki had forgotten the terms, and despite knowing better, he says, “Deal.”
Kyoya smiled, the placid practiced thing he flashed often. A hint of teeth before falling to a comfortable close-lipped curve.
“So,” Kyoya tilted his head, “How have you been since I last saw you?”
“I’ve seen you all day,” Tamaki points out, not impressed. “That’s a terrible opening line.”
“I see,” Kyoya hummed, eyes not quite cold but also no longer warm, observing him and taking him in. “What would you do then?”
Tamaki straighted in his seat, raising his chin, “I would say, uh, ‘come here often?’”
Kyoya raised a brow, “Really?”
Tamaki blushed.
“Uhm, well, no. I just, you put me on the spot.”
Kyoya placed an elbow on the table— something that Tamaki was about to reprimand him for, until Kyoya had propped his head on his hand and looked at him, again. Kyoya said, “It must be hard for you, the princely type. At least, it would be hard for me. Finding beauty comes easy to you.” Kyoya’s gaze raked him from shoulders to the top of his head, “I’m afraid I tend to hyperfocus on flaws.”
“Well,” Tamaki swallowed, “What do you see?”
Kyoya’s glasses flashed, hiding his eyes, so Tamaki couldn’t tell if he was fond or not when he said, “I see you, Tamaki.”
Tamaki wanted to know if he was fond, though. “Do you like what you see?”
Kyoya held his gaze, lips tilted in the slightest of smiles. “Who wouldn’t?”
Tamaki flushed, but he was still unsatisfied. “I– I don’t see the appeal of this hosting style.”
Kyoya sighed, shooting him a pitying look. “Let me explain it to you in simpler terms. Consider my ‘cool type’ the antithesis of your ‘princely type’, yes? While the princely type is ideal for some, those who liked to be openly laved with attention or affirmations, it does not satisfy everyone. There are some cases that appreciate more of the chase. They like pursuing the attention. Do you get it?”
Tamaki shook his head numbly and Kyoya hummed, thinking.
“You are a prince, Tamaki. Some girls like being charmed, like being swept off their feet. It’s a fairytale. You’re a beautiful foreign prince. Right?”
Tamaki felt heat creeping up his cheeks, somewhat stunned by the direct unflinching attention Kyoya was granting him. Too often, Kyoya would multitask, grant some tablet or notebook the attention he was now wholly granting Tamaki.
“Some girls really like that, really like you. But others? They prefer a different genre. They don’t want a consistently doting and charming prince. They want someone a bit more mysterious, someone who’s smiles and laughs are a bit more hard won. They don’t want a fairy take prince, they want a modern man of status and class. Someone reserved and refined and who better suited for the role than one purebred, reliable, Ootori Kyoya? Right?”
Kyoya’s hand, which had sneakily made its way across the table to where Tamaki’s lay, squeezed his hand.
“Right,” Tamaki breathed, no longer really listening, just bathing in all the single-focused attention that Kyoya was granting him. “Yes.”
Kyoya pulled his hand back, something cool in his gaze that made Tamaki want to say something to keep that gaze on him. “They want someone who they can achieve milestones with, someone they can gradually get closer and more comfortable with. Someone who grants more smile and touch slowly over time. So each achievement is all the more sweeter. They want someone quiet yet vocal and confident. They want someone who will take charge but quietly. It feels more realistic to those girls than the starry-eyed promise of you. Do you see?”
“I see,” Tamaki says, body humming with an energy so new and rare to him. He licks his lips, “Do you see me?”
Kyoya raised a brow, “I do. You haven’t stopped blushing since I started explaining my appeal to you. I think I win this round, Tamaki.”
Tamaki wanted to protest, claim the room was hot or something, but he couldn’t bring himself to draw enough breath into his body to do so.
And honestly, he was starting to seriously see Kyoya’s appeal. An appeal that didn’t necessarily end in the host club.