Work Text:
Tamaki pinched the tiny brush between his too thick fingers, doing his best not to tremble. He lowered the quivering brush onto his pinky nail, brushing the pastel blue colour along its length.
Done!!!!!
He pushed the brush back into the bottle.
“Ah!” he cried as it tipped over.
He scrambled to right it, making it roll a trail of pastel blue before he could get ahold of it. He twisted the cap on tightly and banged it on the table before lifting his hands in the air far away from the bottle.
Somehow in his scramble he’d smeared the trail and gotten some random little specks and smudges all over it.
Oh well.
He lowered his hands carefully, trying to keep his trembling to a minimum.
I can’t wait to see them!
He gazed over his fingertips that had been nearly encased in blue pastel except for some bits that seemed to have had patches scraped off, there were smudges all over his fingers, especially his right hand which he had to do with his least dominant hand.
Oh.
The nail polish on his skin had already hardened in some places, still wet in others. The polish on his nails was translucent in some places with much more opaque splotches, at least one per nail.
How did girls do this? They make it look so easy.
And pretty.
He pouted.
He fell onto his back with a groan, holding his shoddy work above him.
He messed it all up. He’s messed up a lot of things hasn’t he?
He shut his eyes as he thought about Hikaru. Poor sick Hikaru who wouldn’t even talk to him.
His hands slumped against his face.
His still drying hands.
“Ah!” he threw his hands off his face as he sat up again.
He looked over at the mirror on the wall. Patches of his fingerprints littered his forehead with traces of blue tinting his fringe.
He noticed that his sleeves also had some blue smeared under his forearms.
He looked away from the mess in the mirror only to see the mess on the table.
“Ugh!” he fell sideways away from the mirror and rolled onto his tummy, hiding his head in his arms, uncaring of the blue smearing onto the carpet and himself.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He’d cried more than he would like to admit this week.
He’d called Hikaru so much and everytime it was ignored except for first thing in the morning when Kaoru would pick up.
At least Kaoru will still talk to me… but for how long?
He shoved himself up a bit, smearing the tears from his face before kneeling. Now wasn't the time for wallowing. He needed to get these done. He wanted to show Haruhi after all.
Beautiful and kind and amazing Haruhi.
He reached for the little bottle again.
Surely all he’d need to do to fix this would be to add more until the colour is even right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The empty bottle lay on its side. More blue scattered over the table in splotches, smears and hand prints. Bits of crumbled blue from where it had dried on his fingers sprinkled the surface he’d been holding his hands over. His fingertips were fully covered in a thick multilayered blue, not translucent, but bumpy and ridged. More blue spattered over his hands and sleeves.
He didn’t dare look into the mirror to see how much had gotten on his face.
Perhaps it was time he got help.
His thoughts immediately went to the twins but he pushed that thought away as soon as it came.
Who else does he know that can paint their nails?
A memory comes to mind, of elegant fingers gracefully creating a work of single toned art across a canvas of nails. Kyouya sat with his back straight and legs crossed, a skirt of near-black purple draped over them. His smooth pale features contrasted against his longer, darker lashes that tickled his cheeks whenever his eyes fell closed, decorated with a subtle smokey colouring. His lips soft and glossy. A curled trail of hair drizzled down his back. Beautiful.
Kyouya would help him!!!
He turned his head around and around trying to remember where he put his phone. His eyes skimmed over his uniform before he focused on where he’d left it crumpled on the floor in his haste to change and paint his nails.
He twisted and dived towards it, scrambling across the carpet.
He checked both pockets twice before he gave up and shook his pants upside down. His phone bounced out.
Success!
He pressed the on button leaving it blue.
Ah! He can’t touch the screen like this!
He looked around, searching for a solution before looking down at the screen.
He pouted, his face shifted making him aware of his nose. His eyes crossed to look at it.
Eureka!
He pressed the on button again and smeared the tip of his nose across the screen to open it.
Haha! This is why I don’t have a pin code Kyouya!
Kyouya had suggested, more than once, that he should put a pin on his phone for security reasons. But who's laughing now!
He bumped his nose against his contacts. Ow.
Okay, a little less force.
He carefully lowered his nose to the phone and dragged it up to scroll down.
The pretty hazel eyes of Hikaru met his as he pulled back. His most recently called number.
He blinked at it.
What if he never speaks to me again? How could I ignore his-
He shook his head aggressively. Stay on plan.
He bumped his nose against the back button with a little too much vigor again but with a bit more pressure he was successfully able to scroll down and open the correct contact.
He smiled as he looked at Kyouya’s smiling face, Mommy typed underneath. He bumped the call button and wiggled as he waited.
“Hello, Tamaki.”
“Kyooouyaaaaaaa!!!”
The phone beeped as the call ended.
Whoops.
He nudges the call button again.
Silence greets him.
He cleared his throat and attempted to keep his voice low, “My sincerest apologies, Mommy dearest.”
“Of course, Daddy, your apology makes my aching ear feel so much better.”
Eugh.
“Would poor hard working amazing Mommy dearest want a head massage?”
He held his breath, waiting to see if his peace offering would be accepted.
“If Daddy dearest can keep his mouth shut for the duration.”
“Yes!” he exclaimed too loudly.
Whoops.
“What do you want Tamaki?”
Ngh
“Um, I was just wondering, if Mommy dearest isn’t too busy of course, if you would be able to help me paint my nails?”
“Paint your nails?”
“Yea! I’ve been thinking about this genderless fashion thing and I wanted to try it! For my date with Haruhi tomorrow!”
Tamaki blinked at his phone, waiting with bated breath.
He wouldn’t… say no, would he? What was he supposed to do if he did?
His eyes caught on the blue fingerprints he’d been leaving on the carpet around his phone.
Oh dear…
A familiar fond sigh called his attention back to his phone, “Alright, I’ll be right over. What colour?”
Tamaki smiled, warmth and care filling his chest.
“You know that pastel blue sweater Hikaru gave me for my birthday last year?”
“Got it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kyouya strode down the familiar hallways, towards Tamaki’s bedroom, a small black cosmetic bag in hand.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. A familiar pain behind his eyes and running down his neck.
He couldn’t wait for Tamaki to give him a head massage. Probably a neck massage too.
It had been a long week.
He knocked on Tamaki’s door before opening it.
Was continuing to be a hard week.
The place was a mess. The table was smeared in blue. And a trail of it continued along the carpet to a crumpled up uniform where Tamaki was lying down. Had been lying down.
“Kyyyooouuuyyyaaaa!!!!” Tamaki scrambled over the floor, bounding towards him like a dog.
He was covered in blue.
Kyouya shoved his foot into Tamaki’s face as his arms flailed towards him.
“Get back, you filthy mutt!” he growled, placing a hand on the doorway to keep himself balanced.
The ache in his eyes throbbed.
He released the doorway to snatch one of the flailing hands by the wrist. It was… How?!
He flung it away in disgust. It was dumbfounding how much Tamaki continued to astound him. How could he be so stupid?
“Tamaki,” he started, then paused.
Where did he even start?
Tamaki had stopped trying to embrace him.
Instead he was grabbing his shoe with both of his grubby hands and peering at him over the tip. His big blue puppy dog eyes staring.
Kyouya hated how adorable he looked even with the blue smeared on his face. And smearing over his polished black shoe.
He sighed and lowered his foot.
“How did you get it all over your face?”
Tamaki flushed, “Ah, well, you see, I forgot that my nails were still drying.”
He smiled sheepishly up at Kyouya.
With his stupid handsome face.
“Well,” Kyouya started, rubbing the bridge of his nose again, “I’m refusing to do anything until you shower. We’re going to have to start from scratch.”
His gaze drifted over the room, “And I’ll call your maid to clean your mess. You should apologise to her for this unnecessary grime.”
When he looked at Tamaki, he was still smiling but… softer. That look on his face he sometimes had when he looked at someone he cared for... Gross.
He adjusted his glasses as he turned around to hide the slight flush to his face.
“I will return to this room in 15 minutes. You better be clean when I return.”
He stalked off, in search of a member of the household staff.
Tamaki was so absolutely infuriating. And yet.
And yet he loved him anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
14 minutes and 50 seconds later he found himself in front of Tamaki’s door again.
Both the room and the boy should be clean by now.
And he had collected himself.
He was calm and ready to deal with Tamaki’s nonsense.
Hopefully.
He ran a hand through his hair, thankful that his headache had receded some, before opening the door right at 15 minutes.
Tamaki was still shirtless. A towel draped over his shoulders that he was using the ends of to pat at his still damp hair. Pink fluffy pants sat low on his hips.
“Hello Kyouya! I’m clean just like you asked,” he said as he stood with his arms out wide, presenting his clean body.
Kyouya allowed himself to look him over once and only once before focusing on the now clean table. A large platter of sliced baguette, meats and cheeses sat with two bowls, one potatoes, the other stewed vegetables, accompanied by a pitcher of iced water and two glasses were in place of the mess. Next to them sat chopsticks and a fork.
“Congratulations. You did something a 5 year old could do,” he said as he sat down, put down the cosmetic bag and busied himself with pouring water into the glasses.
He picked up his chopsticks and pulled the platter closer.
When he looked up, Tamaki was pulling a sweater on. It was a fluffy pink polka dot monstrosity.
He wished he had better taste in men.
Tamaki was pulling out another pair of fluffy pants with a matching sweater, though this time in dark purple with black polka dots.
Kyouya had a bad feeling about this.
“Here!” Tamaki presented them to Kyouya, “You should get comfortable too. We’ll match!”
He grimaced at the fabric, “I think I’d rather be uncomfortable.”
“C’mon, at least feel it first,” Tamaki pushed the clothes further towards him.
He held in a sigh as he reached out and… oh. He rubbed his hand over the silky soft fabric.
Was he actually going to put this on?
He looked up at Tamaki, who was smiling smugly.
He growled, snatching the clothes as he stood up and stalked to the bathroom.
He was infuriating.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He stepped out of the bathroom, surprised to be met with silence until he saw that Tamaki hadn’t noticed him.
He was slumped across the table, fiddling with one of the bottles that had been in his cosmetic bag. His gaze was distant.
Right.
Tamaki had been more solemn this week. Quiet, sad and guilty. As if the twins being sick or whatever it was, was his fault.
Well, he can’t quite cross out the possibility yet.
He set his folded clothes down and walked over.
“Don’t fall asleep after I came all this way.”
Tamaki jolted up, blinking at him as he sat down.
“And don’t touch that,” he snatched the bottle out of his hands, “I don’t need you spilling this one too.”
Tamaki pouted, “It was an accident!”
“Yes, and we don’t want any more of those to happen,” he picked up his chopsticks and put his hands together.
Tamaki followed in kind and together they said, “Thank you for the meal.”
They ate together as Tamaki recounted his arduous tale of his attempt to paint his nails.
“... and then I fell to the ground, defeated by my first attempt and, and, um,” Tamaki stumbled, clearing his throat before continuing, “Then I remembered who I was doing this for! My beloved Haruhi! So I sat up and charged onwards!”
Hm. It was unusual for Tamaki to stumble when regaling a tale.
But he just picked up another bean to eat. He would find out later.
Eventually Tamaki had lengthened his tale as much as he could and they had eaten their fill.
So Kyouya pushed the platter away and gathered the bottles Tamaki had removed from his bag.
Tamaki planted his hands flat on the table, shifting side to side in excitement.
He pulled one of Tamaki’s hands across the table, inspecting the nails. There was still an uneven coating of blue across them despite the caked on bulk of it having been washed off in the shower.
“If you’d given me more time I could have scrubbed more off,” Tamaki pouted.
“Nail polish isn’t supposed to wash off,” he said as he picked up a bottle, “This is nail polish remover. It’s designed specifically to remove nail polish.”
“Oooooo,” Tamaki picked the bottle up, examining it.
Kyouya pulled his cosmetic bag closer to him and got out a packet of cotton pads before taking back the bottle.
Tamaki watched him, enraptured, as Kyouya pulled out a cotton pad, unscrewed the lid and covered the opening with the pad.
“Oh!” he exclaimed as he turned the bottle upside down then back up right.
Kyouya grabbed one of his hands again and got to work rubbing the polish off.
“How do you know all this?” he asked.
Kyouya blinked.
In all this time Tamaki had never once questioned him on why or how he knew things. He just accepted that he seemed to know everything.
His thoughts wandered to all that research he’d done on tourism when Tamaki had first entered his life. Research that he continued to do as Tamaki’s attention flitted between interest to interest.
And now he was finally wondering. Because this was something that he didn’t expect Kyouya to know about.
“I know everything,” he stated.
“You can’t know everything… can you?”
Kyouya felt a smile pull at his lips as he heard the uncertainty in his voice. How amusing to be feared and awed like a mystical being.
He simply glanced up at Tamaki’s unsettled face with a calm serene smile before moving onto the next hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamaki watched from where he lay his head in his arm as Kyouya painted his nails.
With smooth flourishes he wielded the brush with grace as he painted his nails pastel blue. His long thin fingers, dainty but strong and confident. His deep dark mesmerising eyes were sharp and focused. Dark lashes brushing his cheeks. Strands of silky dark hair falling from where it usually lay.
He wanted to brush it back and feel its familiar silkiness with his fingers.
“Stop twitching.”
Whoops.
“Sorry, Kyouya,” he said with a soft smile.
Kyouya’s focus didn’t waver. Much like a master calligrapher.
Hm… I’d like to see him do calligraphy
Maybe as a club activity? That could be fun! They could get some of the finest inks and brushes shipped in in no time at all! Together they could pour their hearts and souls into the artistic craft!
Kyouya’s would be so beautiful. And Haruhi… well he’s sure it would be beautiful too. In its own way. But he’d have to be careful about those mischievous twins…
Would he have to be careful of them? Poor lonely Hikaru… suffering in the lack of attention from his love… a lack of attention that was all his fault-
“Ow!” he cried startling up as a sharp pain emanated from his hand.
He looked to see Kyouya looking at him, eyebrow raised.
“Give me your other hand.”
“O-oh, right,” he shoved his other hand towards Kyouya.
“Careful of the other one!” Kyouya growled, “It’s still drying.”
Tamaki looked at the first hand. His nails were now covered in a translucent blue.
“U-um, Kyouya, it’s still translucent.”
“That’s because it’s only the first coat.”
“Oh, right,” he did not know what that meant.
He shifted a bit to get comfortable in his new position focusing on his wet nails so as not to smudge them.
Wow, it didn’t get on his skin.
Kyouya was a marvelous artist. Maybe he should try to get him into art?
That seemed like a perfectly good use of his time that would surely turn in his favour.
“What’s wrong?”
Tamaki blinked and snapped his gaze up. Kyouya’s dark eyes were still focused on his nails.
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’ve been depressed since the twins got sick.”
O-oh.
Well.
“Was it that obvious?”
Kyouya doesn’t respond.
He smiled despite himself. Same old Kyouya.
“I’m just worried about them.”
“Then why are you feeling guilty?”
“Wh-how…”
Kyouya knew him too well huh.
He looked down.
“It’s just… well… um, Hikaru had-has some feelings that um… I ignored? Kind of? Ah, it’s com-”
“Hikaru is in love with Haruhi.”
“Wh-huh!? How did you know!?” He snapped his eyes up again, feeling Kyouya’s grip on his hand tighten to keep him from moving too much.
Kyouya finished painting his pinky nail. Then put the brush back in the bottle. And twisted the lid back on. Then he looked up at Tamaki.
With a smile.
“Everyone knew except for you and Haruhi. And Hikaru himself for a while.”
Tamaki went to slump on the table but Kyouya smacked him, “Watch the nails!”
Guh.
He froze mid-slump and carefully splayed his hands on the table.
He sighed, “Well, if you know that then you know that… then well…”.
He looked over the careful work of Kyouya, neat and tidy.
Tamaki sighed, “He loves Haruhi but they love me. And I also love Haruhi.”
“That’s what you’re feeling guilty over?”
“Uh, not exactly? He’s the one who encouraged me to pursue them. And while I think he’s sad about it, he’s also happy for us. I-it’s just part of it.”
Tamaki looked around the room, searching for the words to explain.
“It’s just, um, y’know what happened on Tuesday, with the clothes,” Tamaki started and looked towards Kyouya.
Kyouya was leaning against his hand, “Yes? The twins gifted them clothes.”
“Yea!” he exclaimed, “It was really thoughtful and they’d put a lot of effort in!”
Tamaki felt a whack against his wrist, reminding him not to lift his hands from the table.
Tamaki looked at his nails again, “I just mean that… They both care about Haruhi. Hikaru especially. And he was showing it through that gift! But then I got in there and took up all of Haruhi’s attention. I realised that I’ve been doing that a lot recently. Taking up so much of Haruhi’s time and attention. Just because we’re together now, I… I just don’t want our friendships to change too much.”
“It’s very normal for those who have just entered a romantic partnership to go through… a phase like this. Taking up a more than average amount of each other’s time,” Kyouya said.
“W-well, yea, but Haruhi is going away to America. I… I want Hikaru to also get to spend time with them.”
“But?”
Tamaki sighed, shoulders slumping, “I want to spend as much time with Haruhi as I can too. I-I’m selfish.”
Kyouya hummed, “Being selfish isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I imagine it's quite normal to want to spend as much time as possible with the one you love.”
“Exactly!” he felt another whack against his wrists, “Surely Hikaru must want to be around Haruhi just as much as I do!”
Kyouya pulled one of Tamaki’s hands closer to him, inspecting the nails.
“Not everyone can get what they want, Tamaki. Sometimes people just have to let go of someone. He’ll surely find someone else.”
Tamaki sighed and slumped his shoulders again, “But I want all of us to be happy.”
There was a pause as Kyouya started to paint his nails again.
“Well, if there was a way for all three of you to get what you want, then I’m sure you’d be the one to figure it out, Tamaki.”
Maybe he could? He just had to think.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kyouya brushed a layer of top coat over Tamaki’s pinky nail, finally finishing off his nails. It had taken four layers of the blue for the colour to be even and opaque.
Hm, he’ll have to research for a company that had better pale colours.
He twisted the lid on to the bottle before busying himself with putting his nail kit away.
Tamaki had gone quiet after their conversation but he was sure that Tamaki’s guilt had been assuaged. At least for now. He would likely still feel anxious until he saw the twins again but there wasn’t much he could do about that.
Tamaki still seemed to be deep in thought though which made him a bit nervous.
What the hell could he be thinking about so hard?
Kyouya tried to take his time tidying away. Trying to give Tamaki the space he needed to… figure out whatever he needed to.
Tamaki’s hands slammed into the table, “I’ve got it!!!”
Kyouya had to put a hand on the ground to stop himself from falling over. Fucking hell, stupid bastard.
“Got what.”
Tamaki turned to him, smiling so beautifully. Handsome stupid bastard.
“Hikaru and I love Haruhi. And Haruhi loves me. And I care about Hikaru. And Haruhi cares about Hikaru!” Tamaki exclaimed.
“So?”
“So! All three of us should spend more time together!!”
What.
“What.”
Tamaki’s hands started to lift off the table and Kyouya had to reach over and push his wrists down to keep him from smudging the top coat.
“It’s perfect! Foolproof! If I invite Hikaru to some of our dates then he’ll get more of Haruhi’s time and attention without me having to give any up!” Tamaki seemed very proud of himself.
Invite him on dates?! What. This… what.
Should he try to talk some sense into him?
Tamaki was smiling so brightly and babbling about activities the three of them could do together. He was so excited.
Kyouya held back a sigh and allowed a small smile to appear on his face as Tamaki chattered on distractedly.
Oh well, not his problem.
It’ll probably work out eventually. Tamaki always seems to make the strangest things work out.
He glanced at the clock. Ah, it’s late. And his head hurts.
He looked over at Tamaki’s nails. They should be dry by now.
He reached over and picked up Tamaki’s hand as he continued to babble on. He carefully touched one nail, and finding it dry, checked the others. Then he examined them to see if any had got on to Tamaki’s skin. He put that one down and picked up the other.
As he looked them over he realised that the soothing sound of Tamaki’s voice had stopped.
He looked up to see Tamaki looking at him with a smile, “Well?”
He wished Tamaki would stop looking at him like that.
He put Tamaki’s hand back onto the table, “Dry.”
Tamaki excitedly lifted his hands up to his face and wiggled his fingers, “Wow, they look so good! Thank you Kyouya!”
Kyouya’s gaze drifted to the clock again. He should probably leave.
He twisted to face the table so he could pack away his nail kit.
Oh, he must be tired.
It was already put away.
Before he could get up he felt warm familiar hands grasp his shoulders, gently twisting him and pulling him back until he was leaning against Tamaki’s chest.
He blinked.
“What are you doing?”
Tamaki just smiled down at him, “I promised Mommy dearest a head massage.”
“It’s late, Tamaki. You can massage me later.”
“Why don’t you stay the night? You look tired.”
A good person in his situation would probably say no. With him being in love with him and him in love and with another.
But he wasn’t a good person. And he would take what he could get.
He sighed, “Fine, but you better not wake me up early. Or I will end you.”
He closed his eyes and let himself relax against Tamaki’s warm chest, soft from the ugly sweater he wore. Maybe the sweaters weren’t so bad.
Kyouya allowed Tamaki to shift him, as Tamaki shuffled back until Kyouya was lying down with his head cushioned on Tamaki’s thighs.
His glasses were slid off. And then Tamaki’s fingers were running through his hair and pressing into his scalp.
He sucked in a sharp breath and had to hold back a groan as Tamaki’s fingers pressed into his aching head. Tension bled out of him beneath the ministrations of Tamaki’s hands.
It felt so nice…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamaki continued to run his fingers through Kyouya’s silky soft hair. Even though he’d fallen asleep a few minutes ago, soft breaths slipped from his parted pink lips.
He forgot how pretty Kyouya was. With him being a guy and all. Kyouya didn’t often allow himself to be… pretty and delicate.
The fluffy sweater he’d gotten for him was a size or two too big and the neckline hung down a bit low on one side. Showing more of his collar bone then he normally would.
He looked at the dark circles under Kyouya’s eyes. He was glad Kyouya had fallen asleep.
Tamaki carefully lifted Kyouya’s head and body up as he shuffled forward, wrapping an arm under his knees when he could reach. He stood up with Kyouya’s head nestled in the crux of his neck.
With an act that was not unfamiliar, he got Kyouya tucked into his bed.
He froze when Kyouya let out a noise but he just nestled himself into the blankets, his breath still soft with sleep. Adorable!
He had to hold back a delighted and smug laugh. He couldn’t imagine many others got to see this side of him. This very much unscary side of him that would ruin his cool, collected and intimidating persona he often put on for the host club. Not that it was an entirely fake persona.
He yawned. He should probably get to bed himself.
He walked around to the other side of his big bed and snuggled in. A smile on his face with his best friend beside him and a date with his partner in the near future.