kinkfest | Learning, fic (Ouran High School Host Club, PG-13/R)

Title: Learning
Author/Artist:

dev_chieftain
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: None, really. Except I might have failed to fully use the prompt? D: augh, I'm sorry.
A/N: For the prompt "Kyouya/Tamaki: caught in the act - school uniforms". Couple of days late; it was supposed to be Feb 10. Not sure how well this suits the prompt; I was intrigued by the thought of writing for Ouran, but I don't know my way around the characters as well as I do with others.

"Th-this is too difficult," came a mutter from somewhere in the back of the music room, behind gauzy curtains and in the midst of a fluffy, overstuffed, opulent chair.

Kyouya was used to hearing a number of things; unusual things, irritating things, depressingly moronic things, all usually from the mouth of Suou Tamaki.

Complaints about something being difficult were, however, not very common, and even they'd only known each other for about a year, the fact was, Kyouya considered himself an expert on Tamaki's quirks, habits, peculiarities, and behavioral patterns in general. Adjusting his glasses and taking a quick glance around the room to confirm for himself that it was, indeed, empty-- they'd stayed late to work on budgeting, which initially had explained to Kyouya why Tamaki was sulking by himself in a corner but now seemed like a mild annoyance, since he'd ultimately just done the work himself-- he went to investigate.

"Why is--!" A frustrated sigh and the sound of someone rearranging himself where he sat reached Kyouya's ears, but little else in the way of anything informative. Curiosity piqued, he finally stepped up to the curtains, pulling them aside to see what exactly Tamaki was up to.

"...Tamaki."

Evidently, the answer was "masturbating", a word he'd never had need to contemplate in conjunction with the idiot prior to this instant and which he'd been quite happy pretending he didn't know or need to know up until this point, regardless of the reality.

"K-kyouya?" There was a moment in which Tamaki simply stared at him, face pale with shock and embarrassment; then he screamed like a girl, throwing a pillow at Kyouya's head and curling forward in the chair to try to cover his shame. "Don't LOOK! Th-that's-- that's perverted!"

"You shouldn't even be doing this here," Kyouya pointed out drolly, the pillow in his hands, face unharmed. He watched the other boy for several long moments, calculatingly, before throwing the pillow back at him, smacking him on the top of his head.

"AH! What was that for?" He straightened, hands still covering his shame (though with debatable success), eyes brimming with tears and face still bright red. "J-just go-- Just go! D-don't tell anybody, it's not like-- I mean I don't--"

"You don't know how?" Kyouya offered, considering the very likely possibility that this was entirely the case. Why else would Tamaki not do it at home where he would have privacy? Unless he was an exhibitionist (also a very likely possibility) or had some unremarked upon crush on Kyouya that he was acting out in this manner due to some inherent shyness (very unlikely). Tamaki didn't answer him, staring up with a pleadingly hopeless expression and, eventually, biting his lip and shaking his head.

Interesting. But Tamaki was nothing if not honest, so Kyouya took that confession at face value, adopting a thoughtful posture and considering his options as it stood, now.

"So you were practicing?"

By now, Tamaki had realized that Kyouya did not seem to disapprove of his actions enough to chastise him-- yet-- and he brightened at the question, nodding quickly. "Y-yes!"

"For what reason?" He asked, sighing a bit in exasperation. The lack of motivational logic made the whole thing seem a bit odd-- calculated, where Tamaki was usually flawlessly naive and too stupid on the whole to be trusted to have ulterior motives for anything. "Is it related to a girl you've met?"

"Oh-- no. Not-- in particular." Tamaki shifted a bit in his seat, trying to cover himself more completely with his hands. "I read-- a little bit about it. And I was curious how it worked, so-- I thought I'd better practice. The book I read talked about how, but not in a lot of detail, so-- it's really difficult!"

"What, pray tell, was the title of this book?"

"'Roles of adolescents in literature'. There were chapters about girls who dress like boys because of the stigma against female roles in a lot of literature, in order to escape femininity, and some chapters about-- about rape--" his voice got dramatically soft there, though Kyouya suspected not for any desire to glorify the concept-- rather, Tamaki looked horrified at the thought. "--and there were pictures of people hugging naked, at the back, from the Renaissance and a little later. It was really interesting!" He pouted just slightly, as if Kyouya's bland expression was accusatory and he needed to be defensive. "But I don't understand how to do it, and I don't really know why it should matter, anyway."

Frustrated, he let go himself at last, stuffing his unmentionables back inside of his pants and trying to pretend he wasn't still flushed crimson with embarrassment. "Tamaki," Kyouya said, putting a hand to his shoulder, keeping him where he sat in the chair. "Let me explain how. I don't think you need to know these things--" Certainly, his life was much, much easier without having to keep track of any possible dating troubles Tamaki might have, and even though they were friends, he'd really rather not have to coddle the insufferable brat if he got his heart broken. "--but I don't think knowing them would be bad for you."

In fact, the knowledge itself might help Tamaki to understand other people more clearly. Maybe.

"Unbutton your pants," he muttered, kneeling before the other boy's chair and giving Tamaki a warning look. "I'm not going to touch you, but I'll tell you how to do it. Go on."

"Um," Tamaki murmured, reluctant. "I don't know if I can do it while you're watching me."

How tedious. "I'm not going to tease you." Kyouya sighed, reaching for the button himself; Tamaki yelped, covering his fly with both hands, expression reflecting panic. "...all right, fine. Then do this: When you want to try it, make sure you're alone. In the shower would be fine, because it's cleaner, and if you do it here at school you'll probably get your uniform messy." Which would be MORE than awkward to explain, now, wouldn't it? "You grip it with one hand, as tightly as still feels good-- it should feel good, understand?-- and pump your hand on it."

He wondered what, exactly, had possessed him to bother to explain this much.

"Those are the basics, at least. Most people fantasize about someone they're attracted to when they do it. Some people touch other parts of themselves while they do it. The most important thing is always to make sure it feels good."

Tamaki nodded quietly, his panic seeming to have receded, and Kyouya got to his feet with a put-upon sigh. "You'd better go wash your hands. The smell's distinctive, everyone will know what you were doing if you don't."

"...thanks, Kyouya."

"Don't mention it." Please. He turned, ignoring the way that Tamaki was still sitting petrified in his chair, fully prepared to leave. It was a little-- unnerving, maybe, all this, but he suspected he'd dealt with stranger things. "I'll be expecting you to work extra hard tomorrow to earn us more club funds, Tamaki," he added over his shoulder with a pointed smile.

"K-Kyouyaa!! What does that have to do with--!!"

And frankly, he was kind of glad of it.