The ticking of his watch seemed to be unbearably loud as Tamaki paced his living room. He and Kyoya were supposed to have their first official date tonight after months of cautious flirting.

Kyoya had said he would pick Tamaki up at 6 o'clock.

("Tamaki, we both have drivers, wouldn't be easier to just meet somewhere?

"That's how we always get to things when we hang out. It's a date! It should be different!"

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"... Can you drive?"

"Tamaki-"

"Please, Kyo?"

"Fine. I'll pick you up at 6 if it matters that much to you.")

Halting and glancing at the his watch, Tamaki sighed.

6:18.

He wouldn't be worried if it wasn't Kyoya. His perpetually punctual, never-missed-an-appointment-or-meeting-in-his-life, detail-oriented best friend (and now date) made a point of being on time.

Eighteen minutes late was Kyoya's equivalent of showing up two hours late with a coffee in hand.

'He probably just got caught up in something,' Tamaki thought, pulling on an air of false calm. 'Reports or spreadsheets or ...whatever he's always poring over. He'll be here any minute now.'

6:19.

'I just have to be patient.'

6:22.

'Where is he?'

6:25.

'Is he coming? Did he forget? Should I call him?'

6:29.

'What if he doesn't want to go out with me? Did I pressure him into saying yes? Is he scared? Is he regretting accepting? Is he already regretting us before we've even had one date? Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he isn't ready.'

6:32.

'What if his dad found out he was going on a date with a boy?'

6:33.

'What if he gets hurt and it was my fault?'

6:35.

'Kyoya, where are you?'

6:37.

'I'm calling him.'

Tamaki halted his pacing once more and picked up his phone.

1 Missed Call From: Kyoya <3 <3

Equal parts curious and nervous, Tamaki called him back, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring out the window as though he could make Kyoya's car materialize by sheer force of willpower.

Finally, the other line picked up.

"Kyoya?"

"Hi, Tamaki."

"Where are you? You're a little late."

"See, about that," Kyoya said, sending Tamaki's heart rate through the roof. "I'm very sorry. I tried to call you a few minutes ago to tell you. I'm in the hospital."

"What happened?" Tamaki exclaimed loudly, standing and holding the phone close to his ear.

"Calm down, I'm okay. I collapsed going down the stairs to the car to come and pick you up."

"Collapsed? Why?"

"Low blood sugar coupled with exhaustion, I think they said," Kyoya said, at least heaving the grace to sound sheepish. "I suppose I should've listened to you all more about my habits."

"Did you hurt yourself? What happened?" Tamaki said, standing and putting on his coat.

"Fell down a flight of stairs, sprained my wrist, and bruised my ribs, but nothing's broken, and they don't think I have a concussion. I'm being kept overnight for monitoring." Kyoya sighed heavily, and Tamaki could practically see him running his hands through his hair and adjusting his glasses. "I'm sorry for ruining our first date."

"The night isn't over," Tamaki said cheerfully. "Which room are you in? I'm on my way."

"Tamaki... You don't have to do that."

"Kyo," he said softly, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. "You're my best friend. Of course I'm going to come visit you in the hospital, whether we were dating or not."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Tamaki could've sworn he heard Kyoya sniff a little. When he spoke, however, his voice was steady.

"Thank you. I... I could use the company right now."

"No one else is staying with you?" Tamaki was now standing in front of his house, signaling for the car to be brought around and focusing on the voice on the phone.

"Fuyumi was here until I woke up, and Father dropped by long enough to tell me not to let this set me back in my work," Kyoya said, a weariness to his voice when he spoke of his father, "But they've left."

"I'll be there soon. Think of what a great first date story this will be to tell later! Who else has their first date in a hospital room?"

Kyoya laughed quietly. "Somehow, it could only happen with you involved. I'll text you the room number."

"Perfect," Tamaki replied, stepping into the car. "I'll see you in twenty minutes."

"Okay."

~•~•~•~•~•

Kyoya was reading something when Tamaki arrived, looking much younger without the sharp lines of neatly pressed clothing. He was instead being swallowed by a thin cotton shirt that was too large, sitting upright in the hospital bed with the blankets draped over his lap.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Tamaki said fondly as he stepped into the room.

Kyoya startled a bit at the sound of his voice. "Likely," he admitted, setting it aside and smiling a little shyly. "Hello."

"Hi," Tamaki said, firmly pushing down the butterflies in his stomach and sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed. "I brought food." He held up the plastic bag from a takeout restaurant Haruhi had recommended.

Kyoya raised an eyebrow at the bag, setting his glasses aside. "You didn't need to do that."

"Haruhi recommended a place near her apartment, it was on the way, and I figured you'd be hungry," Tamaki said, passing him a container.

Kyoya smiled down at his hands, not quite meeting Tamaki's eyes. "Looks like we'll still be having dinner together, then."

"A private table, too," Tamaki said, gesturing expansively to the empty, quiet walls of the hospital room.

Kyoya rolled his eyes, a faint flush creeping in on his cheeks. "So," he said after a moment of hesitant silence, "About the next cosplay idea."

Tamaki happily launched into the description of his vision for the next cosplay, smiling when Kyoya's good-natured teasing and protests came in as if scripted. The familiar sounds of their laughter and conversation filled the room, covering the beeping of machines and the quiet bustling of a hospital on the other side of the thin door. The conversation meandered but never faltered, even as takeout containers were emptied and forgotten and visiting hours drew to a close. Somehow, Tamaki had ended up taking Kyoya's hand in his and was rubbing lazy circles on the back of Kyoya's hand with his thumb.

The clock on the wall ticked on, but Tamaki resolutely ignored it. This time, he was in no hurry.