summerbutterfly: (ehvul)
[personal profile] summerbutterfly posting in [community profile] kinkfest
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Author/Artist: [livejournal.com profile] ehvul_butterfly
Rating: R (to be safe)
Warnings: Lots of naughty innuendo, some touching, boys crossdressing (in case that's not your thing.)
Word count: 1248
Summary: For the May 1 prompt- Ouran High School Host Club, Kaoru/Hikaru/Kyouya: crossdressing, teasing, pranks - When they'd asked him to model for them, they hadn't bothered to mention it was for a new okama line. They were taking this "mommy" business too far.
A/N: Last touched by me. And late. This should be a lesson in overextending myself, but I'm sure it won't be. Also, I feel like I deviated from the prompt a little. Hope that's okay. (Also, also: the boys are over 18.)



Silk lent itself to sensuality. The way it fell, the way it moved. Even in reflection, the cascade of diaphanous silver brought a flush to Kyoya’s cheeks, compelling his eyes to follow Hikaru’s hands as they fixed his collar.

“Beautiful,” Hikaru murmured. “You look amazing, Kyoya.”

Kyoya’s gaze flickered to Hikaru’s face. Soft smudges of gold shadow highlighted the underside of his eyes, making them look wider and more intense than usual.

“I feel a little...bare,” Kyoya said.

Behind him, there was a chuckle, and Kaoru moved into his line of sight carrying make-up brushes and a pot of lip-gloss. “Not bare enough if you ask me. I mean you still have pants on.”

“You do,” Hikaru agreed. “And a shirt. If I’d gotten my way, it would have been one or the other, but not both.”

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps then I should be grateful you didn’t get your way?”

“Perhaps.” Hikaru nuzzled his cheek and stepped back. “Though that is definitely a matter of perspective. Now hold still. Kaoru’s going to finish your makeup.”

Kyoya wanted to tell them that he was fine. That he didn’t need makeup, but Kaoru was already catching a swirl of gloss on the tip of his index finger and raising his hand to Kyoya’s mouth.

“Open.”

With a sigh, Kyoya parted his lips. Kaoru covered the lower one with a broad stroke, leaving behind a pink-red smear. It felt strange, wet and a little cold, but it had a pleasant, fruity aroma that Kyoya couldn’t disagree with.

“Good. Rub your lips together. Like this.”

Kaoru demonstrated.

Kyoya mimicked, spreading the hue.

Kaoru nodded. “Yes, perfect. Now, open your shirt.”

“Shirt?” Kyoya was confused. “Why my shirt?”

“Just open it. Please?”

Still hesitant, Kyoya pulled the sides apart.

Kaoru coated his finger again and pressed the tip against Kyoya’s nipple.

Kyoya jumped. “What are you doing?”

“Enhancing your nipples.” Kaoru traced over the soft skin. “They need to stand out more.”

“Why?”

“Because in this business, sex sells. And in a show like this, sex is everything.”

“Kaoru, I’m not...”

“This crowd likes fuckable.” Hikaru leaned on Kyoya’s shoulder, admiring his brother’s work. “Which...you are, but we need to make you even more so.”

“Hikaru...”

“No. Done deal. You signed the contract. And in signing, you gave us the right to do whatever we wanted.”

“Yes, but I don’t remember anything about inappropriate touching.”

Hikaru met his eyes in the mirror. “Funny,” he said. “You should.”

Kyoya felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine.

He didn’t need to be told that Hikaru wasn’t talking about the present moment.

Kaoru moved on to the second nipple. Hikaru continued to watch, eyes dark, grin almost feral. Kyoya avoided direct eye contact, already uncomfortably aware of how thick the tension in the room had become. So much so that it was almost a relief when Kaoru stepped back and said, “There. All done,” and he could breathe.

“Nice,” Hikaru drawled.

Kyoya looked down. The effect of the gloss on his skin bordered on obscene, but before could say as much, Kaoru swooped in with a bronzer brush, dusting over Kyoya’s chest with quick, tickling strokes. One hand braced against Kyoya’s hip, he made sure to cover the whole of him before dropping to his knees to dab a little extra on Kyoya’s abdomen. Kyoya had to take several deep breaths, the sensation almost too much after the nipple treatment, and his stomach quivered as Kaoru wiped away some excess powder with his thumb.

“While you’re down there, pull the waistband a little lower.” Hikaru capped the gloss and looked Kyoya over with a critical eye. “To the top of the hip. Oh, and make sure he’s showing. That fabric needs some lift.”

“Okay.”

Kaoru reached out. Kyoya shivered again, and squeezed his eyes shut as a hand slipped between his legs.

“It will only take a minute,” Kaoru promised. “We don’t want you hard. Just...interested.”

“Interested. Right.” The pants, like the shirt, were silk, so any evidence of arousal was going to be glaringly obvious. “If that’s the case, might I respectfully suggest stopping while you’re ahead?”

“You may.” He gave Kyoya a soft smile. “I need to get Hikaru ready anyway. We only have twenty minutes until you both have to be back stage.”

“Twenty minutes?” Hikaru looked concerned as Kaoru got to his feet. “Can you do everything in twenty minutes? We haven’t even checked the fit...”

“Don’t worry. It will be fine.”

Kyoya exhaled. In front of him, Hikaru stripped down to nothing but a tiny pair of hotpant-style briefs, stretching out his arms so Kaoru could do a quick measurement. And then, instead of pants and shirt, Kaoru retrieved a satin corset from the wardrobe rack and handed it over. Still lanky even at 20, Hikaru slid it on without a problem, tugging it into place over his chest.

“God. Yes.” Kaoru was breathless. “The two of you are going to be perfect.”

Hikaru gave the mirror a flirty grin. “We are, aren’t we? The perfect okama couple.” He twirled, tossing his head. “What a lucky boy I am.”

“Lucky boy needs to hold still so he can get his corset tied.” Kaoru grabbed hold of Hikaru’s laces. “And he needs to put on his shorts and stockings.”

“I dunno. I think it looks really good with just the briefs, don’t you?”

Kaoru’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Oh, come on, weren’t you the one that said sex sells?”

“I didn’t mean on you!”

Hikaru pouted, golden eyes dancing with mischief. “So you’re saying you don’t think I can pull it off?”

Kaoru paused, fingers wound in the corset’s laces. For a moment, the two of them were still, an eerie, mirror-image tableau. Then, Kaoru closed his eyes and Hikaru kissed his cheek, lips ghosting over pale skin a moment too long to be truly platonic.

“Fine,” Kaoru said. “You win. But I’m only saying yes because Mommy will be out there with you.”

It took Kyoya a minute to realize they were talking about him. “No one has called me that in years,” he said. “And I don’t see why I would have anything to do with what Hikaru wears.”

“You’re strong enough to keep him out of trouble,” Kaoru muttered and Hikaru, freshly glossed, stuck out his tongue in his brother’s direction.

There were a few more minutes of primping. And then a flurry of activity as handlers burst into the room, headsets clipped, accessories in hand. Kaoru hugged Hikaru and sent him off with a pair of shoes, but stopped Kyoya before Kyoya could follow.

“I never did say thank you.” He squeezed Kyoya’s bicep, professional pretense dropped, and for a moment, Kyoya was seeing the boy he grew up with. The Kaoru who knew what it was like to keep both feet on the ground. “You really did me a huge favor. I...I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

A small smile touched the edges of Kyoya’s lips. “You never have to worry, Kaoru.” He leaned a little closer, dropping his voice so only Kaoru could here. “I’ll always come for you.”

Kaoru’s grip tightened.

“Promise?” he breathed.

Kyoya gave an imperceptible nod. “But if you don’t believe me, come find me after.”

Kyoya straightened. Kaoru let him go, busying himself with the garment rack. But even as he pretended to work Kyoya knew he was watching.

Kyoya glanced back over his shoulder, adjusted his glasses and smiled.

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