Part 1 of many.
Kyouya closed the portfolio of the stocks his company owned with a snap. He rubbed his head tiredly at the side of his temples and glanced at the electronic clock on his desk. It was not nearly twelve in the afternoon and yet, he felt like he had been in the office for seventy long hours. The phone rang and when he picked it up, it was his secretary. "Suoh-sama here to see you sir." It was more a formality than anything. Hide knew no matter the circumstances Kyouya's doors would always be open for his best friend.
"Send him in."
Hide did not bother to open the door for Tamaki; he bounded in like the carefree puppy he was, a bright smile on his face.
Kyouya had his customary scowl waiting for him even though he was really glad to see Tamaki. They both had little time for each other nowadays. Tamaki was president of Ouran Gakuen and had a lot of spoilt brats to rough up while Kyouya was immersed knee deep in the hospital's affairs- he now presided over the board ever since he bought up 10 of the stocks in that company.
Tamaki rested easily in the chair opposite Kyouya. He scrutinized Kyouya like a hawk and he wasn't surprised when he said, "You have become thinner Kyouya. Don't you eat anymore?"
Kyouya smiled impeccably. "I eat stocks for breakfast." There was hardly any time for food or any sort of leisure these days. His time was filled with meetings and plans for takeovers. His latest project was to buy over his uncle's luxury car company. Even though the automobile industry was doing well, the company was wading in debt, having registered losses for five consecutive years. It had the opportunity to do well with the right management and Kyouya thought he was it. Of course, his uncle was not going to be pleased but the way he saw it, he was saving him face for the family.
Tamaki rolled his eyes. "Nonsense," he said. He pushed himself up from the chair. "C'mon, let's get going."
"Where are we going?" Kyouya looked at his files. There were a million things to sign, and a lot of proposals to draft.
"Lunch. One hour won't kill you." There was no way he could refuse, not with the puppy dog look in Tamaki's face. Some things never changed. Kyouya relented and let himself be dragged out of the office.
Hide glanced up from his desk when they passed him. He grinned at Tamaki and gave him a knowing smile. Kyouya wanted to sock him. He shouldn't have hired somebody who was so much like Tamaki in personality. He made Kyouya's mornings so much worse with his cheerful smiles and amused tolerance at Kyouya's bad moods. For all the similarities they shared though, Hide never had Tamaki's ditziness or his penchant for forgiveness. It was precisely why he hired him. Hide was efficient as he was good-natured and he thought with his head, not with his heart. And, he made superb coffee.
Tamaki led the way, chattering all about his latest students. He had implemented a policy at Ouran, something Kyouya privately thought wasn't beneficial to the school in terms of business but a move which was exceedingly Tamaki-like. About two percent of the student population was there on scholarship. Two percent was a good number of people, seeing as Haruhi was the only one during their days as students in the same institution. Tamaki was paying out of his own pocket. That, Kyouya thought was quite stupid. He had been planning to bring it up some time now but he kept forgetting.
The lift doors opened to reveal two pretty ladies inside. Dressed to perfection, the both of them were vice presidents on the hospital board. They gave Kyouya curt nods in greeting, obviously having very little affection for him, but when they saw Tamaki, they lost control. One of them, Mako, put her hand on her hair and batted her eyelashes. The other giggled. Tamaki, who had been the prince of their host club, and very much the prince of the socialite world now, played his part to perfection. "Ara, it is with such good luck that we have the chance to ride on the elevator with such stunning beauties."
Kyouya rolled his eyes- he wasn't sure which he was more annoyed with, the fact that the supposedly no-nonsense businesswomen were acting like childish school girls or the fact that Tamaki was enjoying it so much.
"I thought you had a meeting to attend," he said monotonously, glancing at the digital numbers change as they descended.
"I thought you had a proposal to draft," Mako said sweetly.
He glowered, but Tamaki put a hand on his elbow, and laughed charmingly. "I'm just stealing him for a quick bite. The poor man will never do without me, he practically forgets to eat. I'm sure you ladies could spare me the hour with him, wouldn't you?"
When the lift doors opened, and when Kyouya stormed out of the door, pushing his glasses back to his nose, he heard them whisper to each other. "I wonder why Suoh-san would have such a cold hearted man for a friend."
"Idiots," he cursed under his breath.
"Now, now, Kyouya, how would you ever get their vote if you start calling them names?" Tamaki asked, after he had caught up with him, smiling as he did. The sun caught in his eyes and hair, and Kyouya thought, none could really rival him. He was the darling of the press and had graced the newspaper's front pages and gossip section alike. The front pages headlined news of his charity and his policies at the school, the gossip section pored over his looks and speculated over his love life. Either way, Tamaki was a celebrity.
"I get their votes because I bring in the good money." He stopped at the Porshe and waited for Tamaki to hand him the keys. It was long agreed. Tamaki didn't drive whenever they went out together, regardless of the ownership of the car. He nearly killed him once, and Kyouya wanted to make certain he wouldn't do it again.
"Where are we going?" he asked Tamaki as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"Haruhi's restaurant. It's been a while since you were there." He felt Tamaki's gaze on him as he drove. He glanced over and raised an eyebrow.
"What."
"You've been busy but the least you can do is to pop by or call once in a while, Kyouya." Tamaki turned his glance away and looked out of the windshield.
"I've been busy," Kyouya said.
"I know."
"Then why do you ask?" Frowning, he looked over at Tamaki. It was weird sometimes. He couldn't understand the thoughts that ran through his head.
"Cos' Haruhi thinks it but she doesn't say it so I'm saying it for her."
Oh. Kyouya did not have anything to say to that so he focused on the road in front of him. It wasn't far, Haruhi's restaurant. A quaint café in the middle of town, it attracted quite a lot of customers and had become a tourist attraction in its own right. It took years to get the café's reputation that far but Haruhi had steel in her body, and nobody had doubted for a second that she would succeed. He had always wondered why Tamaki and her had never properly gotten together. Sure, there had been moments but nothing ever came out of them. It seemed like they were dancing a never-ending waltz, one where Tamaki was too afraid to end the dance and ask to take her home.
There wasn't time to think much about what Tamaki had said. He pulled up in front of the restaurant, and geared the car into side parking. Minutes later, Haruhi was at the side of the car, pulling the door open. "Took you long enough," she snapped, blunt as ever.
"Hello, Haruhi," Kyouya greeted her when he had rounded over from his side of the car and kissed her cheek.
"Haruhi." Tamaki swept her into a hug and kissed both cheeks. She ignored both acts of pomp and stalked back into her café.
"Another minute and the place will be full. Sit down."
Kyouya had to smile as the both of them followed her in, Tamaki a little meekly having been rebuffed at his greeting. Haruhi was a picture of beauty. She had grown from a tomboy to a lady who was quietly elegant, entirely oblivious to her innocent beauty. She still retained a little of the aloof, boyishness but it added to her charm. It certainly wasn't just the food alone which attracted customers.
She found them a seat at the very back so that –in her words- they wouldn't be accosted by stupid people with cameras. Tamaki flushed with embarrassment at her words – he hadn't meant to be the poster boy of the elite but he couldn't help it if things turned out that way- but he knew she didn't mean in a condescending manner. It was just Haruhi, frank and simple.
Kyouya eyed his best friend staring after her, the same dreamy look in his eyes for so many years. His stomach lurched suddenly and he blinked, going back to his menu. "I'm starving," he said, wanting very much for the feeling to go away. Instantly, the concerned look on Tamaki's face appeared.
"When was the last time you had a proper meal?" he demanded, leaning forward in his chair.
Kyouya thought for a while, and realized he didn't remember. He remembered his last meal with Tamaki though, it was over a month ago and they had baked oysters and angel haired pasta tossed in pepper and olive oil at the same café in the same spot. He settled for something which would appease the look on Tamaki's face. "Pasta. Last night," he lied, scanning the menu.
They ordered, always more than they could eat so Haruhi would join them later when she wasn't doing the accounts or reinventing menus. Kyouya had a scotch and water to relieve his headache. Tamaki had orange juice.
"I have something I would like to discuss with you about," Kyouya said, while they were waiting for the drinks to be served. "It's about the scholarships Ouran is offering to the students." Tamaki nodded, waiting for him to go on. "Or rather," Kyouya said thoughtfully to himself, "the scholarships you are offering the students."
At the confused look his best friend shot him, Kyouya went on. "It's not very wise, don't you think, taking the money out of your own pocket." When Tamaki looked offended, Kyouya hurried to wipe the look off his face. "No, I'm not telling you to stop the charity. I'm saying you should start a fund. You can't possibly pay for their education forever."
"Start a fund? The money would still have to come from me, right?"
"No, there are various ways to source for the income. I'm sure many companies would love to sponsor the children if you gave them a deal they couldn't refuse. Your father has connections, use them." Talking business to Tamaki was like explaining to a small child how to drive a car. He always had the great ideas but the lack of expertise to make them reality. That was Kyouya's forte.
"Well," Tamaki said reluctantly. "Obtaining the presidency of the school board was hard enough. Using my father to get more connections so I can start a fund would be even more difficult, don't you think so?" Tamaki had a hard relationship with his father, or rather, the pressure put on his father by his grandmother to guide Tamaki properly.
"That was just an example," Kyouya said patiently. His view of his Tamaki was momentarily blocked by a waiter's arm as she delivered their drinks. He downed the scotch in a gulp and ignored Tamaki's scandalous cry. "You could do something else, like a charity auction. Use your media power. Invite the press. People would jump at the chance to be published."
The bright light that shone in Tamaki's face meant that he got it. "Ah! I understand now," he cried excitedly. "You saved me once again, Kyouya. My money alone isn't going to last very long at this rate. With the fund, it could mean more scholarships for more students, and the scheme will have a higher chance of success!"
"Yup." The next hour over fried calamari and medium rare prime tenderloin beef plus chocolate cake as dessert were filled with the excited chatter of his friend discussing the plans to hold a charity auction.
Kyouya felt sated; his headache was gone and his mood lighter in days.
Something had happened when they turned eighteen.
They were spending the night in Tamaki's house – the twins were there, Mori and Hunny were there, and so was Haruhi- and having a barbeque outside in the lawn. It was a whale of a time, a private party held in honor of themselves. There were no customers to please, no costumes to don on except their own skins, and so much food they could barely finish themselves. It was the one mistake they had made, Tamaki had always ordered for a lot of people since the host club was always packed.
The twins, always up to mischief, had brought along alcohol to the party. A glass of wine wasn't so bad, all of them were accustomed to it since they were each obliged to drink at dinner parties and official functions, but they each brought two canters of whisky.
The twins forced them all into a drinking game. They all sat in a circle with the bottles in the middle buried slightly in grass, and each one uttered a number in succession to the previous number uttered when it was their turn. The rules were that whoever who accidentally said out the number seven, or any multiples or seven, had to automatically take a swig from the bottle.
Tamaki, being an idiot who could not count, ended up finishing an entire bottle. It was hilarious, watching him reenact plays he had been to with his grandmother. He pranced about on the lawn, uttering sonnets and guffawing every few minutes. His face had been flushed from the alcohol and his hair wild from rolling about in the grass.
When the party had came to an end, Kyouya decided to stay because he didn't want the entire Suoh household to wake up should Tamaki decide to sing out loud in the hall- it had a great echoing effect. He hauled Tamaki right up to his bedroom, and cursed all the way, telling Tamaki he would be very sorry if he kicked him down to the floor or slobbered all over him or woke him up early in the morning.
Just when he had succeeded into getting in the room, Tamaki rounded upon him and had him trapped against the wall.
Kyouya remembered how he looked that very night. The moon behind him lighting his blond hair into a glowing silhouette, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth open in a lazy smile, his heart contracted painfully beneath his chest.
He didn't think- he hadn't had a moment to- before he closed his mouth on Tamaki's own. And Tamaki had responded. The kiss was hot, and achingly slow, and when he felt Tamaki's tongue, all the blood had rushed away from his head, any sort of logic was gone then. All there was left was him, and Tamaki and the way he kissed. He had pressed himself to his best friend, and surrendered himself into the kiss –it felt so damned good- and could have gone on if not for the word Tamaki uttered.
"Haruhi," he had moaned.
Tamaki obviously had no memory of what had happened that night, but it had stayed with Kyouya, burning into his mind like an imprint, something he knew he might never experience again.