"Everyone's gone home." A soft voice breaks the silence and echoes around the large room. Decorations from the activities from the early afternoon still hang, glistening in the light from the moon pouring in from the expansive windows. Snowflakes dance on their strings, hung from the ceiling. The glass tables are frosted and covered with snowman and Christmas tree confetti. The entire room looks like a winter wonderland.
It is nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and Tamaki lounges on the couch in the far corner. He sips the left over sparkling grape juice from the bottle. With his tie undone, hanging loosely and his shirt unbuttoned a little, Kyouya's eyes linger for a moment before sitting next to him.
"I know." Tamaki responds, taking a swig. He gracefully sets the bottle down and leans his tired head against Kyouya's shoulder. The raven haired man shifts. Although no one is there to see them, Kyouya still feels embarrassed by Tamaki's affections, even the simple ones.
"Would you like a ride home?" Kyouya nudges his glasses up and unfolds the binder in his hands, pretending to be busy counting the expenses.
"No." He says nothing more. Kyouya can feel the rise and fall of Tamaki's chest against him. For a moment, with the silence, he thinks the blond has fallen asleep. "Merry Christmas Kyouya."
On cue, the large grandfather clock chimes, signally the beginning of Christmas day. Outside the ground is still bare of snow. Oddly though, it does not feel like Christmas, despite the Host's attempt to make it appear so. The fake snow littered around the room isn't cold to the touch, the Christmas trees contain gifts with no presents inside, and even the fake scent of pine tree is nauseating now that the festivities are over.
"Merry Christmas Tamaki. Would you like your gift now?"
At the word gift, Tamaki lifts his rugged self from the slight slumber he was in and stretches his long limbs. "Why did you get me something? We said we wouldn't buy gifts."
"I know what we said." Kyouya closes the folder and sets it on top of the piano before taking a seat before the instrument. "But I didn't buy this gift. I... created it." He lifts the lid to the piano and stretches his fingers. Reaching out he removes from the folder a single sheet of music entitled La Lueur de mon Coeur and places it before himself.
"I don't play often, so don't make fun, understood Tamaki?" Even with his gifts, Kyouya was instructional. Tamaki nods and sinks down beside the man.
Music breaks the silence of the room and floats between their soft breathes of air. The tempo is slow, like their growing love. Deft hands move over black and white, turning out the melody that causes Tamaki's heart to yearn.
Tamaki knows Kyouya doesn't write songs, nor does he play the piano often anymore. He knows that it took courage for him to give this gift to him. While gifts lay under the Suoh family tree, nothing will quite be as beautiful as the music Kyouya creates just for his ears. The raven haired man bares himself to Tamaki through his language of music.
He wants to remember this moment. Wants to imprint the image of his lover at the piano, playing the music of his heart. Even after the holidays end and Kyouya returns to barking at Tamaki for over-spending on the club, Tamaki will close his eyes and remember.