(no subject)
Title: Devious
Fandom: Ouran Koukou Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: m/m sex
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Ouran Koukou Host Club or its characters.
School had dismissed hours ago, but the Third Music Room remained occupied despite the absence of other students. Kyouya had ordered costumes for the Host Club and insisted that Tamaki help him unpack the boxes of clothing-he was the club’s president, after all, so he should be required to do his fair share of the dirty work. Yet somehow in the midst of their work, his orders to unpack the costumes had become an order to try on the costume that Kyouya had chosen for him.
Tamaki was a bit disconcerted to see that the items he held were undoubtedly girl’s clothing, but he quickly toed off his shoes and slipped out of his uniform. He shrugged on a white button-down with cap sleeves and, over top that, a dark spaghetti-strap tank which clasped at one point in the middle. Next was a short skirt made of black lace, complete with an abundance of ruffles, and black stockings which reached mid-thigh and had a tiny bow sewn on the outside of each leg. The ensemble even included curled golden extensions and a headband with an off-center bow made of black ribbon. Hesitantly, Tamaki pulled the frilly black panties up his slender legs before he slipped his feet into the high heeled Mary Janes that completed the costume. Tamaki couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his face as he looked down at his clothing. There was no mirror in sight, and he had no clue what he looked like in such a feminine outfit. Kyouya had probably planned that from the beginning, he mused.
The Host Club’s President stepped from the tapestry where he had changed and shyly met Kyouya’s calculating stare behind the silver glint of his glasses. His lips slowly thinned into a devious smirk, which never failed to make Tamaki’s stomach flutter in response, no matter how many times he found himself in this sort of situation. Unbidden, Tamaki found himself approaching Kyouya where he sat in an oversized armchair, clumsily falling into the dark-haired boy’s lap when he tripped over his own high-heel-clad feet.
“Mommy,” Tamaki pouted, kicking the shoes off so he could properly straddle Kyouya’s lap, “couldn’t you have gotten anything more comfortable to wear?”
“Of course, Daddy,” Kyouya whispered hotly against his ear, eliciting a shiver. “But that wouldn’t have been any fun, would it?”
Kyouya’s hand slid into the long golden ringlets at the nape of Tamaki’s neck and pulled the boy’s head down to kiss him fiercely. His free hand moved up the back of Tamaki’s thigh, cupping the swell of his ass beneath the obscenely short skirt. Kyouya pulled him further onto his lap as he thrust upward, grinding their groins together. Tamaki gasped at the combined sensation of the panties and Kyouya’s cock rubbing against his own erection; he broke the kiss to bury his face against Kyouya’s neck so his friend wouldn’t see the blush that dusted his cheekbones.
“Don’t tease me, Kyouya!” Tamaki moaned, as Kyouya’s wandering fingers slipped beneath the hem of the panties to tease at his entrance. He wobbled on the overstuffed cushions of the chair and looped his arms around Kyouya’s neck to bring them closer together.
Kyouya kissed the smooth skin along Tamaki’s jawline and sucked a dark purple mark into the skin behind his ear. When Kyouya’s fingers returned to his entrance-this time slick with lube-Tamaki gasped in disbelief, “You-ah!-planned this!”
The blonde could feel Kyouya’s lips curl into a smirk against his neck as he pushed one, two, then three long fingers into him, curling and seeking out that spot inside Tamaki that made him mewl piteously. Tamaki was torn between pushing back against those talented fingers or the firm stomach that he was rubbing against. Kyouya’s mouth was mapping a trail of kisses and bites along his neck, marking the most sensitive spots for everyone to see. The fair-haired boy was sure he’d regret it later, but the rasp of Kyouya’s teeth against his skin felt too good to stop him.
Tamaki’s breath hitched when Kyouya wormed a hand beneath the skirt of his costume and grasped his erection. Along with the insistent stroke of his fingers inside Tamaki, all it took was a few firm pulls on the blonde’s cock before he was coming, pearls of white in stark contrast against the dark costume. His thighs tightened around Kyouya, hips still moving weakly as he rode out the last of his orgasm. It wasn’t until Kyouya’s fingers left him that Tamaki was roused to wrap his hand around the other boy’s erection, stroking firmly and surely until Kyouya spilled over his fingers.
“Nngh,” Tamaki mumbled incoherently when the other boy nudged him, too comfortable to move from his perch on Kyouya’s lap. He finally lifted his head to see that devious smirk firmly in place on Kyouya’s lips once again.
“Would you like to see your real costume now?”
Fandom: Ouran Koukou Host Club
Pairing: Kyouya/Tamaki
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: m/m sex
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Ouran Koukou Host Club or its characters.
School had dismissed hours ago, but the Third Music Room remained occupied despite the absence of other students. Kyouya had ordered costumes for the Host Club and insisted that Tamaki help him unpack the boxes of clothing-he was the club’s president, after all, so he should be required to do his fair share of the dirty work. Yet somehow in the midst of their work, his orders to unpack the costumes had become an order to try on the costume that Kyouya had chosen for him.
Tamaki was a bit disconcerted to see that the items he held were undoubtedly girl’s clothing, but he quickly toed off his shoes and slipped out of his uniform. He shrugged on a white button-down with cap sleeves and, over top that, a dark spaghetti-strap tank which clasped at one point in the middle. Next was a short skirt made of black lace, complete with an abundance of ruffles, and black stockings which reached mid-thigh and had a tiny bow sewn on the outside of each leg. The ensemble even included curled golden extensions and a headband with an off-center bow made of black ribbon. Hesitantly, Tamaki pulled the frilly black panties up his slender legs before he slipped his feet into the high heeled Mary Janes that completed the costume. Tamaki couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his face as he looked down at his clothing. There was no mirror in sight, and he had no clue what he looked like in such a feminine outfit. Kyouya had probably planned that from the beginning, he mused.
The Host Club’s President stepped from the tapestry where he had changed and shyly met Kyouya’s calculating stare behind the silver glint of his glasses. His lips slowly thinned into a devious smirk, which never failed to make Tamaki’s stomach flutter in response, no matter how many times he found himself in this sort of situation. Unbidden, Tamaki found himself approaching Kyouya where he sat in an oversized armchair, clumsily falling into the dark-haired boy’s lap when he tripped over his own high-heel-clad feet.
“Mommy,” Tamaki pouted, kicking the shoes off so he could properly straddle Kyouya’s lap, “couldn’t you have gotten anything more comfortable to wear?”
“Of course, Daddy,” Kyouya whispered hotly against his ear, eliciting a shiver. “But that wouldn’t have been any fun, would it?”
Kyouya’s hand slid into the long golden ringlets at the nape of Tamaki’s neck and pulled the boy’s head down to kiss him fiercely. His free hand moved up the back of Tamaki’s thigh, cupping the swell of his ass beneath the obscenely short skirt. Kyouya pulled him further onto his lap as he thrust upward, grinding their groins together. Tamaki gasped at the combined sensation of the panties and Kyouya’s cock rubbing against his own erection; he broke the kiss to bury his face against Kyouya’s neck so his friend wouldn’t see the blush that dusted his cheekbones.
“Don’t tease me, Kyouya!” Tamaki moaned, as Kyouya’s wandering fingers slipped beneath the hem of the panties to tease at his entrance. He wobbled on the overstuffed cushions of the chair and looped his arms around Kyouya’s neck to bring them closer together.
Kyouya kissed the smooth skin along Tamaki’s jawline and sucked a dark purple mark into the skin behind his ear. When Kyouya’s fingers returned to his entrance-this time slick with lube-Tamaki gasped in disbelief, “You-ah!-planned this!”
The blonde could feel Kyouya’s lips curl into a smirk against his neck as he pushed one, two, then three long fingers into him, curling and seeking out that spot inside Tamaki that made him mewl piteously. Tamaki was torn between pushing back against those talented fingers or the firm stomach that he was rubbing against. Kyouya’s mouth was mapping a trail of kisses and bites along his neck, marking the most sensitive spots for everyone to see. The fair-haired boy was sure he’d regret it later, but the rasp of Kyouya’s teeth against his skin felt too good to stop him.
Tamaki’s breath hitched when Kyouya wormed a hand beneath the skirt of his costume and grasped his erection. Along with the insistent stroke of his fingers inside Tamaki, all it took was a few firm pulls on the blonde’s cock before he was coming, pearls of white in stark contrast against the dark costume. His thighs tightened around Kyouya, hips still moving weakly as he rode out the last of his orgasm. It wasn’t until Kyouya’s fingers left him that Tamaki was roused to wrap his hand around the other boy’s erection, stroking firmly and surely until Kyouya spilled over his fingers.
“Nngh,” Tamaki mumbled incoherently when the other boy nudged him, too comfortable to move from his perch on Kyouya’s lap. He finally lifted his head to see that devious smirk firmly in place on Kyouya’s lips once again.
“Would you like to see your real costume now?”