Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ The Same Mistake ❯ One-Shot

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

THE SAME MISTAKE
An Ouran High School Host Club Challenge Fanfic

Written by Miyu, Vampire Princess


CHALLENGE(S): Tongue lashings...whatever that means to you (wk68) AND Obsession (wk64).

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've never really delved into the shounen-ai or yaoi perspective for this fandom, so I hope I can do it justice. Told from Tamaki's point of view. Kyoya x Tamaki pairing. WARNING for LEMON content. A Standard Disclaimer follows the story.




He told me it would happen once and only once.

"But--"

"But what?"

But I only wanted one more try.

"So...what happens now?"

"We pretend."

"Pretend?"

"Like it never happened." He paused to look over his shoulder at me. "This never should have happened, you know."

Yeah, I know.

It happened about three years ago, during our last year of high school. Despite the women I'd wooed as a member of the Host Club, my desires were for another. I'm not sure when I realized I was in love, but the feelings developed gradually over the span our friendship.

I'd confessed to him. How could I not, my heart all overflowing with love?! But it happened in a less than desirable way. A confession that was really only meant for him to hear. Instead, it was blurted out with five other people present.

"No, of course not!"

"Surely, you don't mean it."

"I don't want anyone else. I love you!"

The dead silence that followed was even more of an embarrassment.

I considered canceling club activities for at least a month. I felt so ashamed of myself. Instead, I hid away in my home, making myself sick from worry. What if he doesn't like me anymore? What if he won't talk to me? He asked me if I meant it. Asked me to be honest. And I was. What more could he possibly want from me?

I missed school for about a week before gathering up enough courage to face everyone again.

When I returned to school, it was as if it never happened. We still talked in class and I threw myself into club activities to escape any further embarrassment. There was still the odd look from the other club members, but I ignored them. There was no use in worrying anymore, or so I told myself. I'd confessed my feelings. He either returned them or didn't. And while it was leaning towards the "didn't" side of things, I never really lost hope.

"I'll do this only once."

It happened one night after everyone had left the Music Room. We had just finished cleaning up after the day's event. The twins scurried out, while Huni and Mori waved their goodbyes. Haruhi left with only a curt nod, running late as usual. I was about to gather my things when Kyoya leaned over behind me and whispered in my ear.

"Wha--? Kyoya...."

"Only once."

His lips tasted like green tea. The same tea we'd served during the day's event. There was something else, too. The vague taste of cream puffs and a flavor I'm not familiar with. His personal taste, perhaps. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned my dress shirt with ease, fingertips roaming the expanse of my chest. Nails scraped lightly over my nipples, causing them to harden. Just as the feel of his warm body against my back was causing other parts of my body harden.

First went the shirt, lips kissing from my neck across one shoulder. Then back, pausing to suckle on the nape of my neck before trailing kisses across the other shoulder. With my nipples between his fingers, he pushed his hips against my rear, causing me to gasp. It was then that he pulled me toward him, attempting to draw my wild sounds into his mouth with another round of tongue wrestling.

The pants were gone with my help and before I knew it, he had me sitting on a table completely naked, trapped by the strong band of his arms. I was powerless to stop him as he covered my torso with more kisses, teasing my nipples until I whined aloud. I managed to undo his shirt and pants in the madness. His skin felt smooth, almost like glass. But I could no longer manage thought or touch when the kisses dropped lower, his lips engulfing my dick in a warm, loving embrace.

Have I mentioned that he's a god with a tongue of magic? He could do some marvelous thing with that! Especially when it wrapped around my swollen flesh, tasting every bit of sweat and seamen I couldn't hold back. He swallowed every last drop, licking his lips as he stood before me.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah...."

First entry was rough. I'd been prepared, but there wasn't enough lubrication and gods but I thought I was being ripped in half! The searing pain was only slightly abated by the feel of his hand on my dick and the press of his lips on my neck. My hands caressed his neck, my hips uncertainly moving in small motions as the pain started to go away.

Thrust after thrust he filled me, caused me to moan and shiver. I whispered my feelings to him, to the room. I took each gliding blow with a moan, my hips rising to meet his. His fingers helped bring me to the edge, but I held out, allowing him to reach climax first. It felt...wonderful, the release. Like the perfect dream come true. Although there were none of those blinding lights I'd heard most girls talk about, there was a definite feeling of warmth. Of completion.

His hand pulled away from my spent rod and we leaned into each other for support, both spent. I helped him to lick his hand clean. And our finale kiss more passionate, and tastier, than the first.

When it was over, it was like there was nothing else to say. No words to describe the emotion, the atmosphere. I truly believed it was the greatest opportunity in the world. I could die happy, knowing I had one moment with him. We dressed and went on with life, smiling. There was nothing else to it.

So why was I so desperate for tonight?

The dreams. That was it. All those dreams on the cold nights...the desperate, sweat soaked nights alone with my right hand. It wasn't really enough. I needed to have him inside of me. To feel his hands on me, his skin against mine. I needed the man I loved. Surely, there would be another opportunity!

He'd enjoyed himself too.

Or so I thought.

Hope lodged itself in my heart. Up until graduation, I dropped hints and made passes. Some subtle, and some not too subtle. I never let up, though! I had to be with him. Had to have him, if only once more. His responses only fueled my need. Occasionally he'd smile, or make a comment. Light caresses of hands were rare moments, but much appreciated. I felt loved, and I liked the feeling very much.

Now I know he was just being nice.

After graduation, we hardly saw each other. I still held hope, although life had taken us in different directions. Different universities. Different career paths. But I drowned myself in images of him. Everything about his life. I held on to my dreams, to a hope that one more night would quench my obsession.

It had been at a class gathering where I confessed again. The words were quiet and much more private. I was prepared for the worst. Dared not hope for even a kind word in response. A kiss or a hug perhaps, but nothing else.

"Are you certain it's what you want?"

I thought I knew.

"Yes...."

Now, I know differently.

There was a lot missing. Things that were there in our high school days have seemingly disappeared these past few years. Our friendship...is different. The camaraderie gone. That sense of wholeness I felt that late afternoon, the feeling of passion and completeness...it feels like a dream.

It WAS a dream.

"Tamaki?"

There was nothing in him last night.

'I'll only do this once.'

"Are you crying?"

"No." But it's clear from the hitch in my voice that I am. I'm usually pretty good at hiding my emotions behind a flashy smile. But the smile is weak, and would never work on him.

A sigh. "Stop crying."

"Yes...."

Another sigh. "I need to leave."

"Of...of course." But before he gets too far, I can't help but ask. "Kyoya?"

He stops in the doorway, but doesn't turn around.

"I don't make the same mistake twice," he states blandly.

"I know."

"Good."

"Kyoya?"

"Yeah?"

A smile curves my lips, even though I feel anything but happy. "Thank you."

There's a curt nod before he disappears in the shadow of the hallway. The door clicks shut oh so softly, but it's the loudest noise in my head. The room suddenly feel cold -- alone -- and I sneak back under the covers.

It will never happen again. I promise.

I needed to hear him say that. Needed to make just one more mistake. It's heartbreaking, but at the same time, I feel a sense of warmth I had not felt since high school. A renewed feeling of confidence. I am alive. More alive than I have been in the past three years. Is this right? Or even appropriate? I may have destroyed a friendship!

Yet, I can't help smiling.

'Thank you, Kyoya.'

Everything will be all right.


~OWARI~

DISCLAIMER:
Ouran High School Host Club is a brilliant piece of work by creator Bisco Hatori. Originally published in 2003 by HAKUSENSHA, Inc., Tokyo, Japan, this masterpiece is being translated and published by VIZ Media for fans in America and Canada. I do not own a single piece of the characters used in this story. They were kidnapped and used here without permission.