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Mai Mai trade! - OHSHC (Kyoya, M)


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A/N: MaiMaiiiiii~! Here’s my half of the trade! To thank you so much for giving me not one, but TWO Castiel fics, I wanted to make it extra good for you~ I tried to work in everything you asked, and give you a fic you would love, so here you go! I’m worried the characters might be a little OOC, but I did what I could xD. I hope you like it~! You deserve my best <3 (And sorry it took a while—bleh, school!)

Anime: Ouran High School Host Club

Victim: Kyoya

Warnings: Light M/M fluff, and swearing

One Day Off

~ For MaiMai ~

There were words to describe his predicament; Kyoya could think of several. Futile was one. Also, annoying could be another. Ill-timed was most certainly a descriptor of interest. Though fucked was the best summation of his situation. Yes, while crude, that was the best way to assess it. Ootori Kyoya was absolutely, without a doubt, fucked to high heaven.

It started out harmlessly enough. Just a dry, prickly spot at the back of his throat that Kyoya had chalked up to some crisp winter air and light, seasonal sinus-draining. True, the soreness behind his eyes did not help his case, but the third Ootori son usually had some form of a headache on most days. His life was not exactly an easy one. He didn’t resent it either—keeping busy brought out his best and kept up his self-worth. Though it would catch up with him eventually, especially during the winter months. And each time he worked through it. Mug of tea in one hand, pen in the other, Kyoya had sniffled his way through more than a few colds.

Though this one was different.

ih-.. hit’shuhh!”

For whatever reason, the gods had cursed him with probably the sneeziest, itchiest cold he could have ever imagined. Were Kyoya on an extended period of break, he would have gladly caged himself in his bedroom and resigned himself to sneezing until it was finished. But that was not to be his fate. No. It had to strike during the end of a particularly difficult winter-semester. Finals had not even started, and he prayed to whatever cosmic, significant beings there were to please kindly have this malady pass before he had to take any tests. He could not expect to surpass his brothers if he could not even match their previous successes.


Today was Saturday. Kyoya hunched over the work table in his room, bundled up in blankets. Fuyumi had found him in a poor state earlier that morning and tried to force him to bed, but he would have none of it. Instead, they compromised—she left him in peace as long as he sat obediently on the floor with his covers and tea. The only good thing about the situation was Kyoya felt so miserable that he knew the worst would (hopefully) soon be behind him. It helped to tell himself that, anyway.

Even though he had pounded his system with enough cold medicine to sedate a bear, he still couldn’t seem to keep focused. It was either the coughing that set his throat on fire, or the dry-eyes that made it so hard to stare longer than a few seconds, or the-.. th..

hh.. hhhh.. hiscchiuuh!.. damb id!”

The sneezing. It was almost constant. Not quite, but almost. No matter how many times he blew his nose, or rubbed at it, the sticky tickle wouldn’t budge. It would just flare into something flammable and make him sneeze, and then shrink again. It never left him completely. Kyoya would never admit it aloud, but it was his utter lack of control over his body that drove him into such an awful mood. Sure, he felt thrown through the ringer, but more than that he felt helpless. And an Ootori never appreciated that feeling.

Nor did they appreciate being seen in such a state. Kyoya certainly didn’t plan on it. He had cancelled every single meeting or social event for the next day or so because he’d rather be a little rude than risk infecting someone (and more importantly, risk looking pitiful in front of important people). Fuyumi held her own against their father, defending him, though the bitter disappointment in father’s eyes when Kyoya stumbled into the kitchen this morning had been enough to send him back up to his room with a stronger gait.

Now, Kyoya rubbed his eyes with warm fingers, tossing his glasses onto the table before cradling his forehead. He was doing all he could from here—working overtime, practically, to get ahead of all the distance he was losing because of his cold. His fingers migrated down his face, brushing beneath his nose as he sniffled against thickness. The tingle flared, manifesting.

Eyehh.. hyitschhyyuu!.. hitschhhuhh!!”

He had long since gotten sick of it; his stupid nose insisted on it anyway. There was nothing left to sneeze out, Kyoya was certain. He was congested, but nothing ever moved when he blew his nose. As far as he was concerned, his nose should have done a better job keeping the virus out in the first place.

Laying his head on his arms, Kyoya closed his eyes for a moment—just a moment—and then he was getting shaken awake from slumber. The movement was gentle, but it jostled his achy body in a way that made him groan. The voice was familiar—

“Kyoya,” it said. “Mon ami, wake up.”

There was only one person who would call him that. Kyoya sat up too quickly and dealt with the consequences, the congestion in his head shifting and making him dizzy. Tamaki must have seen it in his eyes. Warm, strong hands held him carefully still, one resting again his back, and the other pasting against his forehead. Being ill was so disorienting—even if the rest of his body felt cold, Kyoya’s head was blazing hot. His thoughts felt like they were melting.

“Tambaki—” But even that was too much for his sleep-heavy throat. The sound aggravated the raw lining, pitching him headlong into a coughing fit that he smothered into the corner of his blanket. Even in the haze of fever and grogginess, he didn’t want Tamaki to catch this. No matter how annoying the young man was, or how frequently he acted like an idiot, Kyoya didn’t want his health to suffer. Tamaki’s mother had suffered from a weak constitution, and deep down Kyoya worried a little that his best friend could have inherited it too.

“Come on, then,” Tamaki was saying, scooping his arms beneath Kyoya’s and hauling him up. They waited for the room to stabilize, for Kyoya to get firm footing, before Tamaki started dragging him toward his bed.

hitscchhh!!.. hischhuuu!!” They came too quickly for Kyoya to properly cover them, and his cheeks blinked pink at his boorish manners. Luckily, Tamaki’s chest was to his back, and it was unlikely he took any of the germs directly. Kyoya got his bearings and started to struggle. “Tambaki, led go.” God, that was pitiful. The cold had all but ruined his scary, low-blood-sugar-I-will-kill-you wake-up rage. Now he was reduced to something like a stuffy, fussy toddler.

Tamaki couldn’t have been less intimidated.

“Just a minute, Kyoya,” he said, still making a slow journey to the bed by the wall. Kyoya is mightily disappointed about how little his attempts at escape affect the progress. He tries to dig in his heels to get some purchase, but Tamaki simply turns around to drag him backwards, effectively preventing him from using his own weight to stop him. Distantly, Kyoya is aware how childish he is being, but stubbornness comes naturally to him in the face of work. Another remark was poised on his tongue, ready to release, when the tickle struck him again. Slow. Rising. His chest inflated gradually, and his back pressed against the blond man behind him.

hik’itschhuu!!” And when that was finally out, he snuffled.

“Bless you,” Tamaki remarked. His tone was fond. It made Kyoya want to throw a tantrum, since bestie-moments weren’t his forte anyway. Having one now was awkward as hell. For all the resistance he put up, Kyoya was dumped onto the bed regardless. He swiped some damp black hair from his eyes as he rolled over, the rims of them red and irritated from the rubbing he had been doing since he woke up. Fatigue in the form of violet imprints hung beneath them.

“You’re ond by shid-listd,” Kyoya growled, voice cracking a little from misuse. And if that wasn’t enough of a kick to the gut, Tamaki smirked at him. Asshole. Kyoya wasn’t sure if the pouting showed on his face, but he willed it to look more like unquenchable fury instead.

“I’ve been there before,” Tamaki mused, arms crossed as he looked down at his friend. As he observed, he watched Kyoya’s nose twitch to the side just slightly, and his dark eyes slowly sink shut. The hitched breaths that followed signaled to Tamaki that this cold was indeed kicking Kyoya’s ass, since the Ootori’s sneezes were always quick and to the point when he was in good health.

Hyeh.. ehh.. ehh-HITCHSCHHYYUU!.. htschhhyyuuh!” The first was devastatingly strong, which seemed to clear him of most of the urge. Kyoya lowered his hands from his face once sure he was finished, closing his eyes against the afternoon sun coming through the window. He wondered just how long he had slept at the table before Tamaki found him. Odds are it was a while, judging by the soreness of his back and neck.

His thoughts seemed to go in circles rather than stay linear, so he gave up chasing them. It wasn’t until he was sufficiently tucked beneath his sheets before he realized Tamaki was mommy-ing him. Immediately he started to flail, fighting the submission. The boys scuffled with one another, though the healthier of the two had the obvious upper-hand.

“Kyoya,” Tamaki grunted, trying to get a good grip on Kyoya’s wrists. “You’re going to elevate your fever!”

“I don’d have a fever!”

Tamaki felt his eyes roll before he could stop them; Kyoya was the cool, collected, rational type at school, sure. And yes, at his core, that was his nature. But his true colors were far more bold than just “cool.” Tamaki’s best friend was a diligent worker, resourceful to a fault, quick to anger when it came to emotional matters, and fiercely—violently—willing to exceed expectations. Those seething emotions boiled beneath Kyoya’s skin, hidden under a smooth guise of calm. Once you got to know him, truly know him, you understand this about Kyoya.

With time, Kyoya grew too tired to continue struggling, and lay still under his sheets with sweat beaded on his brow. Satisfied he would be still, Tamaki sat back but stayed perched on the edge of the bed. Kyoya’s eyes stayed closed, a delicate frown over his forehead and around his mouth.

“Are you mad?”

Kyoya sighed, catching a cough halfway during the exhale. And somehow, the shakes of his lungs made his nose tickle again. “..eh.. ehischhuuu!.. hih-!..” He paused, in want of another, but it abruptly died and left him. Kyoya lifted a wrist to his head, wiping.

“Dno,” and damn if he didn’t sound like his vocal chords went through a wood-chipper. He didn’t need to ask for Tamaki to slip him a wad of tissues. Pinching them over his nose didn’t do much good, but he was too tired to blow. Kyoya slit his eyes and shifted them to his friend, watching the blonde man’s face as he ruminated on some distant thought.

“You know—”


“—it probably wouldn’t be this bad—”

“Shud ub, Tabaki.”

“—if you had just stayed in bed.”

Kyoya rolled over, black hair standing out against the white pillowcase. He didn’t need to hear this right now. Yes, of course he knew that he brought this down on himself, but what should he have done? Too much to do, never enough time, and if a shitty cold gets in the way was he supposed to bow to it? That’s not the Kyoya way.

“Thang you. I had dno idea.”

“It’s a good thing I reminded you, then.” Tamaki was smirking again, clearly just playing along with Kyoya’s foul, stormy mood to avoid a fight. He talked like he was in a library, with his voice soft and measured. Kyoya snuffled into his tissues, still resistant to blow his nose. It’s sore, a whiny voice in his head told him, though he would never admit to it. Instead, he decided it was too unseemly to sink to such an act with company around.

Tamaki wasn’t most company. Suddenly another hand held to the tissues, poised there and waiting, and Kyoya jerked his head in response. He turned to the side, but still Tamaki followed him, determined to help his friend clear his sinuses if he wouldn’t do it himself. During their long history of friendship, occasionally one or the other fought against the grain of social decency (whether through anger or tears, the rare physical altercation, or something of the like) in order to help one another. Never, though, had one of them tried to aid the other in something like this.

“Tabaki, whad the hell!? This is disgusti’g!” Kyoya turned his head from right to left, Tamaki leaning over him, refusing to buckle. Tamaki’s free hand pressed against the mattress, supporting him. His face was drawn with concentration—the kind of look Tamaki always gets when he’s trying to do something right on the first try. His fingers, ever so slightly and gently, were starting to chafe against Kyoya’s nose. The struggling Ootori didn’t know if Tamaki was doing it on purpose, or if it was just a consequence of their tussle. Either way, it was starting to make his nose itch something awful…

“T-Tabaki, I beand-.. beand id, I-.. Iiiyee..” Fuck! Why was he in a situation like this?! Why was this even possible? It wasn’t fair. He had enough to juggle without adding “Inappropriately Stubborn BFF” to the list. Tamaki was, naturally, trying to help. It’s what Tamaki does. He takes a moment to step out of his drama-bedazzled world, steal’s your eyes, and sees the world how you see it. Feels how you feel it. Knows what you know. Sometimes, it doesn’t work as well as it should, because Tamaki’s self-sacrificing nature makes him blind to anything concerning himself (and occasionally public or social normatives). Most of the time, though, it was spot on.

But this wasn’t the help Kyoya wanted. Kyoya wanted Tamaki to douse him in NyQuil and then make him do shots of black coffee until he managed to finish his work. Not this. And even if it wasn’t the help Kyoya wanted, he acknowledged that it might-…. might… be the help he needed. Tamaki’s fingers, covered by the cottony-thin paper of Kleenex, continued to tickle him until he could no longer take it.

Ehkischuu!.. HET’chuu!.. hitschh!.. hischhh!!.. hischhhh!! Kyoya was not a sneezing-fit kind of person, even when ill, so the volley surprised him. Tamaki looked prepared, buffering the series with plenty of tissues and then giving Kyoya a pinch-wipe afterward. And, after a weary moment, Kyoya realized he could breathe again. A few huffs through his nose—while faintly itchy—brought some relief to his face. Tamaki grinned. Kyoya glared.

“My ideas aren’t always bad—”

“You’re an idiot, and that was severely uncalled for.”

“But don’t you feel a little better?”

“Irrelevant to the matter at hand.”

The puppy dog eyes came out, big and blue and heavy from scolding. Kyoya stared icily for several moments afterward, not showing he was moved, until he held up his thumb and forefinger. A centimeter apart. Yes, he felt only that much better. Tamaki beamed at him with so much enthusiasm, Kyoya had to pound a pillow across his smug-ass face. And he pretended not to smile when Tamaki started laughing, muffled from the fabric.

They enjoyed the moment for minutes more before Tamaki peeked out from under the feather pillow, eyes intense. Kyoya knew that look: the look that meant that what just happened was to be remembered and abided days, months, and years into the future. And while Kyoya thought about making a wise-crack of yes, Tamaki, I know how to clean my own nose, he realized it was meant deeper than that.

Yes, Tamaki. I will take care of myself. I know how.

Thank goodness the fever wasn’t high enough for him to start saying these things out loud. Significant Bestie moments were good once every few months, and even that was too often. Sighing, Kyoya adjusted his position into one that was more comfortable, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. He didn’t realize Tamaki had gotten up until he felt a cool cloth across his forehead and a box of tissues nestled in the covers by his arm. The urge surged over him.


“Bless you,” Tamaki said. Kyoya sniffled his thanks, pulling out another tissue from the box to tend to his nose. The cloth on his head chilled him in a very pleasant way, and more and more the need for work drifted. Somewhere on his horizon, he could see it, but no longer could he make himself reach for it. The bed was so much nicer today.

“You’re going to catch my cold,” Kyoya mumbled, voice getting heavy. Now that he was actually lying down, he could feel how tired he was. It unsettled him how much rest sick people needed; he always forgot how much. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Tamaki shrug.

“It’s not likely, but if I do, maybe Haruhi will take care of me.” Tamaki’s tone was even and well-distributed, though Kyoya could tell he was reigning it in only because he suspected Kyoya was sleepy. Any other time and the blonde would be bouncing off the walls, face cherry red from whatever delusion he was conjuring. Kyoya scoffed but chose wisely to say nothing. No sense in opening this can of worms right now.

The longer they sat, the harder it was to stay awake. Perhaps Tamaki noticed, since he got up to close the curtains and straighten up Kyoya’s papers. The Ootori watched it all through a fevered, exhausted haze. And he could of sworn he only blinked. But when he opened his eyes, it was morning again. Fuyumi was serving soup, pushing the tray practically under his nose. And Tamaki had gone. Kyoya couldn’t stop the slight up-turn of his lips. Swooped in to get him on the mend, and then slipped out once he was sure Kyoya had his head on straight again.

eh-.. ehtischhuh!!”

“Kyoya, bless you!” Fuyumi chirped, startling slightly and hissing as the soup sloshed onto the tray. Kyoya nodded his thanks, sitting up and offering nothing more than a beleaguered glare. But its effect was ruined by his smile.


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OHMAIGOSH SCATTER!!!!! This is the most adorable fic I have ever read and it's absolutely perfect and just- *squeals incoherently and flails* I didn't give you much to work with and you made it into this adorable and amazing and beautiful and just TOTALLY PERFECT fic!!! THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH, I adore it!!!!!!!

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Yaaaaaaaaaay! <3 That's just what I wanted to hear ;D. You gave me like, the most amazing Cas fics ever, so I had to make sure I got you something at least half-as-good back! <3

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Yaaaaaaaaaay! <3 That's just what I wanted to hear ;D. You gave me like, the most amazing Cas fics ever, so I had to make sure I got you something at least half-as-good back! <3

IT'S AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL AND SERIOUSLY JUST PERFECT!!!! Everything I could have ever wanted!!! :wub: (I did write you a list of everything that I loved but I think I went over the word limit and the forum wouldn't let me post it :lol: ) Again, thank you so so much!!!! <3

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I liked it ! :)

I know it isn't for me to read.

But this is really cute and stuff <3

Caretaking and things <3

fluff fluff fluff ~

:) :) :) :) :)

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I managed to compress the list slightly (because I'm still going INSANE over this and I NEED to tell you how much I love it some more :rofl: )

1. OMG THE FIRST PARAGRAPH!!!! <3 That is just the best opening to anything ever!! And the descriptions!!! I think I died and went to heaven straight away :wub:

2. I ADORE how you described the onset of the cold, it's so perfectly paced and builds up the story really well!

3. Kyoya being all stubborn and trying to work through it!!! AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHH! <3 <3 <3


“You know—”


“—it probably wouldn’t be this bad—”

“Shud ub, Tabaki.”

“—if you had just stayed in bed.”






5. Tamaki being all sneaky and making Kyoya sneeze so that he could breathe again and then Kyoya refusing to admit that it helped and and and- *dies*

6. OHMAIGOD THE SPELLINGS <3 Just so perfect and adorable and just :wub:

*reads it several hundred more times*

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QwQ! I cannot stop smiling right now! Hahaha!

I am SO PLEASED you like it! <3 Gahhhh! <3 You're so sweet to give a play by play of what you enjoyed >w<~

I really love knowing the specific things I did to make it good, haha >w<~

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Kay so um... Confession. You're the very first fetish-y author I'd ever read (I found a fanfiction) and you continue to be one of my favourites :)

.. The fact that it's Kyoya only makes it better

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Everyone forgive me for bumping my own post again, but I just wanted to say that this:

Kay so um... Confession. You're the very first fetish-y author I'd ever read (I found a fanfiction) and you continue to be one of my favourites smile.png

.. is a huge honor QwQ~ Peppercat, thank you so much for those kind words, and I'm absolutely over-the-moon that I was the first author you ever read. Garnet was mine, and I still idolize her and her writing to this day, so I feel really special that I got to be that first for you <3. You're so sweet >w<~

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Aaaaagh the feels!! Kyoya~~~ omg... brain overload!

I was actually expecting Tamaki in his "overzealous hyperactive only too willing to help but failing spectacularly mode" however you totally captured his sweet, caring, and sometimes spot on empathetic side. i particularly melted at the end when Tamaki had already gone, slipped out silently, after having reassured himself on Kyoya's recovery.

Loved it!

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  • 3 weeks later...

Awww! This makes me want to actually go back and finish watching Ouran. I saw the first ten or so episodes ages ago, always meant to get back to it and never did even though I loved it. Like snuffles said, it was nice to see Tamaki being a bit more subtly helpful rather than flailing and doing things that were outlandish--he's capable of both! And I like that Kyoya eventually settled into being taken care of--that's actually the cool and rational thing to do, though I can completely see him refusing at first. The writing itself was excellent. Overall, this was a really lovely fic, with a great combination of entertaining sneeziness and character development. Thanks for posting!

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Kyoya's always been my (secret) favorite. I really have a thing for guys that are normally all stoic and stuff but then show weakness and are all embarrassed by it. (It's even better if there's someone else to take care of them.)

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  • 2 weeks later...

This is soooooo hot! I don't understand why but it is almost impossible to find good OHSHC sneezefics. I love how you describe (this probably sound horrible for me to say) his suffering and compleate vulerablity. You receive all my thanks!

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  • 2 months later...

Fabulous!! =33 the relationship is perfect. It's not just a sneezefic (though god it was a good one that left me super happy =D) but such terrific characterization!!! That is key with ANY fic. The way you write just struck me so hard in the best of ways. You have a great ability to get inside their heads. YAY!

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  • 1 month later...

AHHHHH KYOYA SO KAWAIIIIIIII!!! ^^what they said. Everything. It's awesome.

(I'm lame, let's just say I loved it :D )

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