OHHC: I am trying to break your heart
Title: I am trying to break your heart
Pairings: Kyouya/Haruhi, a bit of Haruhi/Tamaki
Genre: Drama, angst, more situational than plot
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Glimpses in the relationship of Haruhi and Kyouya at the end of her first school year and the start of the next
Comments: Title is from song of same title by Wilco, which kept playing over in my head as I wrote the last part.
Originally posted here, and I'm pretty sure this is the first fic I posted on LJ, after my high school RPing days.
Haruhi closed her eyes, letting the cool evening breeze and the sounds of boys playing near by waft over her. It had been a wonderfully warm and sunny day, unseasonal for March, but perfect for Hunny and Mori's last day at high school. There were festivities in the afternoon for their class, and the members of the Ouran High School Host Club had continued the party back at Mori's house.
It was warm enough that the twins decided to jump in the pool, and they were quickly joined by everyone but Haruhi. Though the weather was nice, the chill night air and the spring breeze brought goosebumps to Haruhi's skin. She rubbed her arms as she stood on the balcony, watching the boys play some crazy game with a ball that Tamaki had probably made up.
Footsteps approached from her left, and Haruhi looked up to see Kyouya, for once without his clipboard. He leaned against the railing next to her.
"Why aren't you swimming?" she asked.
"It's March."
Haruhi suppressed a grin. "Nearly April."
"April is hardly more conducive for swimming than March."
Haruhi turned her gaze back to the pool, where a massive tidal wave had just overtaken Tamaki, and Hunny laughed until he inhaled water and had to have his back pounded by Mori. "What will the Host Club do without those two?" She asked, more rhetorically than earnestly.
Kyouya pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Or three, rather."
Haruhi cocked her head. "Three?"
"Your debt's been discharged to the club. It has been for some time, actually, though I didn't inform you sooner because I thought your departure might lead to a drop in customers that we can't sustain right now. We needed to build up extra funds in case our attendance next school year dips."
Haruhi didn't hear much past the first sentence. "I've worked off my debt?" She asked, turning to face Kyouya.
"Yes."
"So I don't have to come to the club anymore?" Possibilities opened up before her, of hours of uninterrupted time to devote to her studies, maybe get a job, perhaps even try out another club that would be more beneficial to her goals. Why, then, did that not make her excited?
Kyouya's expression, as usual, remained unscrutable. "You are no longer required."
Haruhi sucked in a breath. "Oh."
The silence hung, thick as night, between them.
"Though if you would like to renegotiate your position with the Host Club, we could no doubt use your . . . expertise."
Haruhi's shoulders released tension she didn't know she'd been carrying. "I shall think about it."
"Haruhi, Kyouya, look!" They turned their attention to the pool, where Tamaki, about to do something amazing, was pushed underwater by one of the twins, and held under by the other. There was a lot of thrashing, and water sprayed about. Hunny dive-bombed the twins and Tamaki came up, gasping for breath.
"Will it really be the Host Club without Hunny and Mori?" Haruhi mused.
"Things have indeed changed," Kyouya said. He did not look at her, but she could see his eyes were dark. "And the Host Club will not be able to continue as is. These challenges will have to be met."
"I did not know you were so worried," Haruhi said softly. Hikaru smiled up at her, and she waved. Kyouya turned, leaned his back against the rail, arms crossed over his chest.
"I am merely stating the truth." Even after a full year of school, Haruhi still didn't feel like she knew Kyouya well, but his melancholy, usually Tamaki's territory, troubled her. She laid a hand on his arm, and smiled up at him.
"Things will work out, Kyouya-kun."
His eyes widened momentarily at the familiarity of her address. He unfolded his arms, taking one her hands absently in his own. "Tamaki always finds a way, doesn't he?" His wistful expression held years of memories.
"And you are always able to make his plans work," Haruhi responded. She squeezed his hand before heeding Hunny's call, and hurrying down the stairs.
* * *
The outburst, when it came, was far later than Kyouya had expected.
"Why does he think he can treat me like that?" Haruhi fumed, slamming the door to the Ootori limo before the chauffeur could. She sat diagonally from Kyouya, staring out the window.
Kyouya watched her impassively, having only rarely seen her so angry.
"Why does he coddle me, and treat me as a child? I won't break. I won't do something stupid on my own. I'm sixteen, and probably more aware of the world than he is."
Kyouya's eyebrows shot up. Rarely, rarely did Haruhi throw in such pointed barbs. "Yet you never say anything to him."
Haruhi shot him a cool look, clearly conveying what she was thinking. Trying to reason with Tamaki would do . . . what?
Kyouya got the point.
"Why does he do it anyways? Is it just because I'm a girl, and he can't handle me with kid gloves because I'm not a customer?"
Kyouya met her eyes impassively. Haruhi is extremely intelligent, surely she must--
The annoyed look, and all the blood in Haruhi's face drained away. Her eyes, large already, became big as saucers.
"No. Impossible."
Kyouya's gaze was steady.
Haruhi dropped her head into her hands, hair swinging forward in jagged locks over her fingers.
"And you . . . have never thought of Tamaki in such a way?" His stomach was icy, or perhaps it was his chest.
In truth, Haruhi had fantasized about all the club members--except Hunny, who was more of a little brother to her--and really, how could she not, being constantly surrounded by some of the best looking, richest boys in the school? But Tamaki was flowery and gentle, chivalrous--and that was it. An idealist. Something she could never afford to be. Tamaki would be good for a first time--and she was glad her face was still hidden in her hands so Kyouya couldn't see her blush--but she was a realist, and could never, ever return the sort of feelings Tamaki would offer her.
"No," was what she managed to say.
"Then it is good the Lord does not realize his own feelings."
Haruhi sat up. "What do you . . . ?"
Kyouya straightened his glasses. "It has been evident to the rest of the club--and now you, as well--that Tamaki--has feelings for you. He, however, interprets them as fatherly feelings. After all, he has never had a girlfriend. His youth was devoted to his mother and his music. So it follows that when he admires a girl, wants to protect her like any young man would, he misinterprets those feelings as familial. That is how he has always viewed the Host Club, more as family than friends. He does not understand, or know how to deal with, these new feelings."
"But how do you know what Tamaki does not?"
"I have known Tamaki for a very long time."
The rest of the drive to Haruhi's apartment was in silence.
* * *
At the beginning of the spring break, Tamaki decided they should throw a birthday party. He had been appalled in May when he discovered Haruhi's birthday had long since passed and, as it coincided (sort of) with the twins' birthday, Haruhi hadn't grumbled too much. Her sense of tension from the beginning of the term had eased a bit as the situation hadn't changed, and she felt a weekend at the twins' beach house would be a nice break. The rest of the break, of course, would be devoted to studying.
Invitations had been sent and purchases made, and the result (aside from having to hear the squealing of girls getting to see their favorite Host Club member in swim trunks) was really quite amazing. The patio and pool area had been decorated to look like an undersea kingdom of mermaids, and with the smell of salt and the sound of the waves just beyond the landscaping, it was very realistic. There was music, and dancing, and more food than Haruhi could eat in a year, and after the most avid fangirls had gone home, she let the twins persuade her into going for a swim in the ocean.
The tide was high and the waves rough, but she loved the feeling of being in the open water, of stretching and kicking her legs, of turning, when she was tired, and just floating on her back over the tops of waves and watching the stars wink into view as the clouds rolled away before the rising moon.
Tired and happy, she raced the twins up the beach, laughing as Hikaru tripped up Kaoru, who dragged his brother down with him. "I'm going back," she called to them, receiving only a muffled response, as one twin had his mouth full of sand, the other of arm.
In the changing cabin, which was really more the size of a luxury suite, Haruhi decided against the old t-shirt and shorts she'd had on earlier, and instead slipped a breezy sundress over her swimsuit. It suited her relaxed mood, and fluttered gently in the breeze. She smiled, and twirled a little, and waved to the twins as they came up the wooden steps, encrusted with sand.
"Look at the lord," Kaoru said with a snicker. Tamaki did indeed merit a grin, as he was still dancing wildly on the patio, which was strung with paper lanterns dyed cool, watery colors. "He's rather active tonight," Haruhi said mildly.
"Not for long. Soon he'll be snoring on a pool chair."
Haruhi looked from one brother to the other. "What did you do?" she asked, a trace of alarm in her voice.
Hikaru erupted into laughter. "We spiked his punch!"
Haruhi rolled her eyes. "As if he needs alcohol. What if he drinks too much?"
"Ah, he'll be fine. It was just enough to make him . . . like that," Kaoru responded dismissively.
Haruhi wasn't particularly impressed by this trick, though it didn't seem like it should be harmful.
"We're going to clean off. Then we should dance!"
"I don't know, it's getting late." But the twins were already running off, and Tamaki had spotted Haruhi. Hunny, on vacation from university, was also on the dance floor, and even Mori was doing something that sort of resembled dancing.
"Haruhi, come dance with me!" Tamaki exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and dragging him after her. He face was flushed and his movements a little more flamboyantly clumsy than usual. "Alright," she said, "but only for a little bit."
They joined Hunny, and a few moments later the twins appeared. Kyouya leaned against one of the food tables, sipping on the "seaweed punch."
"Come dance, mother!" Tamaki called, but Kyouya just looked at him over the rim of his glass, and he turned his attention back to Haruhi.
And then the music changed. Haruhi was fairly sure the twins had something to do with it, as they immediately became swoony and clutched each other, swaying to the slow, romantic music. Tamaki looked around, surprised at the change of pace, but quickly adjusted. "Dance with me, daughter?" he asked Haruhi with a low bow. Haruhi did not particularly want to slow dance, but his eyes pled, and she thought one dance wouldn't hurt. Hopefully it would calm him down a bit, and then she could go to bed.
Tamaki took Haruhi's right hand in his left, and slid his hand expertly around her waist. Of course, she thought, he must have had dancing lessons. And Tamaki was an excellent partner. Though his steps were occasionally awkward, they were skillful and measured, directing her around the dancefloor without force. It was odd to be led around--Haruhi wasn't sure she liked it--but she liked moving with a skillful partner (someone who could show her what to do), and soon relaxed into it. That dance became another, and another, and without her realizing it, Tamaki's hand curled around hers, and his arm around her waist brought them closer together.
Haruhi started when his hair brushed her ear, and then his lips. She pulled back, wide-eyed, and found Tamaki's gaze searching hers. "Haruhi, he whispered," as if astonished.
"Lord, I--" But he put a finger on her lips, and moved his face toward hers.
With a great rush of energy, Haruhi broke from his arms and bolted across the patio. She did not see the gazes, a moment ago carefully averted, staring after her with surprise. She ran to her suite, slammed the door, and leaned against it, heart beating huge in her chest. What on earth was she going to do? Hopefully, Tamaki would soon fall asleep, and forget what happened. But if he didn't . . .
She heard doors slam in another part of the house, voices raised, though she could not distinguish words or tone. When Haruhi caught her breath, she moved across the darkened room, and stared out at the sea. A few moments later, there was a quiet knock at her door. She didn't answer.
"Haruhi." It was Kyouya. "Come in."
He closed the door behind him, and moved to the window, standing several feet to her right. She could not tell where his eyes were, as a shadow fell across his face.
"Do not be angry at Tamaki."
"The twins said they spiked his punch."
"Hmm. I shall have to speak to them about that."
Silence.
"Is he very upset?"
"The Lord is always very dramatic." Kyouya turned to gaze out at the crashing waves. "I think it would be best to wait until morning to deal with it. See what he remembers, what he admits to himself."
Haruhi watched the tide go in and out, in and out. "I hope that the Host Club will not be ruined because of me." Though it had been quite different this year without Hunny and Mori--auditions had been held for additional members, but Tamaki and Kyouya were not able to satisfactorily agree on anyone--it was still there, it was still something. Haruhi had only slowly come to realize how much it meant to these very rich, very lonely boys. And how much it would hurt them if it disbanded forever.
"We always knew it would end some day. At least, everyone but Tamaki."
"What can I possibly say to appease Tamaki without giving in to something I don't want? He is a nice boy, with a good heart, but . . . he lives in his own world of dreams."
"And you are forced to remain in the real world." Haruhi was too lost in thought to notice Kyouya's unusual openness.
"Tamaki will never understand me," she said quietly, tracing an invisible pattern on the windowpane. She turned to Kyouya, her eyes huge and dark, and in a heartbeat a bridge was crossed. Haruhi felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her, and suddenly the distance between them was gone, and he was so near, and warm. His hands curled lightly around her arms, fingertips moving in little strokes that made her shiver. "Why do I want--" her breath caught in her throat.
"--this?" he whispered, and placed his lips softly on hers. It was not Kyouya's first kiss, nor Haruhi's, but for the physical impact to both of them, it could have been. A light brush of flesh quickly became insistant, Haruhi answering as forcefully as Kyouya demanded. They broke apart, and Haruhi found herself looking up into that same searching gaze she had seen in Tamaki's eyes, but in Kyouya's it was subtle, deep, and aware. Haruhi knew they should stop, she should pull away and send him out--and god knows Kyouya knew this--she wanted to stop and yet her body did not, it leaned into his surprisingly strong frame, and he brought his arms around her and picked her up.
Kyouya set her on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of eagerness to do something, anything to keep those eyes on his, her soft hands in his, and god he wanted Haruhi all to himself. Their gazes locked. Haruhi removed Kyouya's glasses and set them neatly on the nightstand. He leaned into her, and they kissed, mouths opening to each other. His tongue brushed hers, more politely than gently, and she felt her stomach drop. Haruhi's legs opened so she could pull him closer, arms twining into his hair and around his shoulders, strong underneath her fingers. There was a rushing in her ears.
Kyouya's hands trembled--trembled--as he moved them down Haruhi's back, and up, one finding the nape of her neck, one the small of her back. And his hand moved over her shoulders, savouring the soft skin of her arms, the gentle curve of her neck into her shoulder, unobscured by her short hair. It rested on her shoulder, thumb gently stroked the hollow under her collarbone. And his hand were around her ribs around her waist, moving slowly up again, making his intentions clear. Haruhi tightened her arms around his neck, both deepening the kiss and leaving room for his hands to move up, over her small breasts, cupping them gently, his fingers finding her nipples.
It was almost too much. Haruhi broke away, her head dropping. He rested his forehead on the crown of her head. "Shall I go, Haruhi?" He whispered, his voice almost even enough to deceive her. She felt her heartbeat throughout her body, almost choking her, and from her chest to deep between her legs. Haruhi dropped her arms, but her hands found the top button on his shirt. "No," she said firmly. Kyouya took her hands from his shirt. He leaned away, and peeled the shirt from his body. Haruhi gasped as he held her to him, warm and strong, and she only wanted to be closer, but she could not see how.
Kyouya felt her nipples hard against his chest, and he wanted nothing more but to touch them, and the soft flesh below, to take them between his lips, let his tongue play over them. He moved his hands down to Haruhi's thighs, to where the hem of her sundress was taut over her legs. He met her eyes, and then lifted her sundress in one smooth movement. His hands lingered over her--the small curve of her backside, the dip of her lower back, and the gentle stretch of her shoulder blades. And she was before him in nothing but her swimsuit, low over her hips, just the slightest curve of a tummy, and her small, high breasts, nipples pushing through the fabric of her top. Kyouya felt himself tighten and warm.
Again, hands were over her skin. Haruhi leaned into him, the softest of moans escaping her as he brought his lips to her neck, her shoulder, and back to her mouth as he pulled the tie on her bikini top. And then both of them lost track of what was happening, but there were lips and tongues, and hands, and skin, oh, wonderful soft, warm skin, and then both of them were naked, on the bed. Haruhi's heart beat, fast. She remembered this, she remembered, a year ago, when Kyouya had pushed her onto the bed, bent over her, like so, threatening and dangerous, and god, she'd had dreams for weeks that'd made her blush with shame. She bent her knee, and pulled him down. "Wait," he whispered into her hair.
And from somewhere, he pulled out a condom, rolling it down over himself, and Haruhi gasped to see his fingers move so slowly and firmly down his cock. From here, he could make out her features, though they were blurred. He trailed a hand up her leg, from her instep, over her shin, around her knee. It rested actively on her thigh--and then he moved his hand--and after a few searching movements, light blazed behind Haruhi's eyes and she arched against him. "No," she said, after his finger had moved in a few, slow, glorious circles. She leaned up on her elbows and pulled him to her.
And he loomed over her, his closeness pushing her back down to the bed and he settled on his forearms. One hand reached down, stroking her hip gently, spreading her legs--Haruhi could barely breath--and he guided himself into her, and she gasped with shock and pain.
Kyouya watched her eyes widen, leaned closer, held her to him. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he liked it but for the fact she was in pain. Her eyes were dark. "Keep going," she said, her voice strained. And as the rhythm pushed on, he felt her relax, and her muscles begin to clamp down. And as she held him, he let everything go. His worries, thoughts of business and profit, thoughts of the morning--and felt only the softness of her skin and her body tight around his cock--shudders wracked his body, colors shot across his eyes, and in a great wave of warmth, he collapsed.
Haruhi stayed awake long into the night. Kyouya had rolled away from her, but in his sleep he had rolled back, and she stroked his hair where his head rested on her shoulder. Morning would be here all too quickly.
Pairings: Kyouya/Haruhi, a bit of Haruhi/Tamaki
Genre: Drama, angst, more situational than plot
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Glimpses in the relationship of Haruhi and Kyouya at the end of her first school year and the start of the next
Comments: Title is from song of same title by Wilco, which kept playing over in my head as I wrote the last part.
Originally posted here, and I'm pretty sure this is the first fic I posted on LJ, after my high school RPing days.
Haruhi closed her eyes, letting the cool evening breeze and the sounds of boys playing near by waft over her. It had been a wonderfully warm and sunny day, unseasonal for March, but perfect for Hunny and Mori's last day at high school. There were festivities in the afternoon for their class, and the members of the Ouran High School Host Club had continued the party back at Mori's house.
It was warm enough that the twins decided to jump in the pool, and they were quickly joined by everyone but Haruhi. Though the weather was nice, the chill night air and the spring breeze brought goosebumps to Haruhi's skin. She rubbed her arms as she stood on the balcony, watching the boys play some crazy game with a ball that Tamaki had probably made up.
Footsteps approached from her left, and Haruhi looked up to see Kyouya, for once without his clipboard. He leaned against the railing next to her.
"Why aren't you swimming?" she asked.
"It's March."
Haruhi suppressed a grin. "Nearly April."
"April is hardly more conducive for swimming than March."
Haruhi turned her gaze back to the pool, where a massive tidal wave had just overtaken Tamaki, and Hunny laughed until he inhaled water and had to have his back pounded by Mori. "What will the Host Club do without those two?" She asked, more rhetorically than earnestly.
Kyouya pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Or three, rather."
Haruhi cocked her head. "Three?"
"Your debt's been discharged to the club. It has been for some time, actually, though I didn't inform you sooner because I thought your departure might lead to a drop in customers that we can't sustain right now. We needed to build up extra funds in case our attendance next school year dips."
Haruhi didn't hear much past the first sentence. "I've worked off my debt?" She asked, turning to face Kyouya.
"Yes."
"So I don't have to come to the club anymore?" Possibilities opened up before her, of hours of uninterrupted time to devote to her studies, maybe get a job, perhaps even try out another club that would be more beneficial to her goals. Why, then, did that not make her excited?
Kyouya's expression, as usual, remained unscrutable. "You are no longer required."
Haruhi sucked in a breath. "Oh."
The silence hung, thick as night, between them.
"Though if you would like to renegotiate your position with the Host Club, we could no doubt use your . . . expertise."
Haruhi's shoulders released tension she didn't know she'd been carrying. "I shall think about it."
"Haruhi, Kyouya, look!" They turned their attention to the pool, where Tamaki, about to do something amazing, was pushed underwater by one of the twins, and held under by the other. There was a lot of thrashing, and water sprayed about. Hunny dive-bombed the twins and Tamaki came up, gasping for breath.
"Will it really be the Host Club without Hunny and Mori?" Haruhi mused.
"Things have indeed changed," Kyouya said. He did not look at her, but she could see his eyes were dark. "And the Host Club will not be able to continue as is. These challenges will have to be met."
"I did not know you were so worried," Haruhi said softly. Hikaru smiled up at her, and she waved. Kyouya turned, leaned his back against the rail, arms crossed over his chest.
"I am merely stating the truth." Even after a full year of school, Haruhi still didn't feel like she knew Kyouya well, but his melancholy, usually Tamaki's territory, troubled her. She laid a hand on his arm, and smiled up at him.
"Things will work out, Kyouya-kun."
His eyes widened momentarily at the familiarity of her address. He unfolded his arms, taking one her hands absently in his own. "Tamaki always finds a way, doesn't he?" His wistful expression held years of memories.
"And you are always able to make his plans work," Haruhi responded. She squeezed his hand before heeding Hunny's call, and hurrying down the stairs.
* * *
The outburst, when it came, was far later than Kyouya had expected.
"Why does he think he can treat me like that?" Haruhi fumed, slamming the door to the Ootori limo before the chauffeur could. She sat diagonally from Kyouya, staring out the window.
Kyouya watched her impassively, having only rarely seen her so angry.
"Why does he coddle me, and treat me as a child? I won't break. I won't do something stupid on my own. I'm sixteen, and probably more aware of the world than he is."
Kyouya's eyebrows shot up. Rarely, rarely did Haruhi throw in such pointed barbs. "Yet you never say anything to him."
Haruhi shot him a cool look, clearly conveying what she was thinking. Trying to reason with Tamaki would do . . . what?
Kyouya got the point.
"Why does he do it anyways? Is it just because I'm a girl, and he can't handle me with kid gloves because I'm not a customer?"
Kyouya met her eyes impassively. Haruhi is extremely intelligent, surely she must--
The annoyed look, and all the blood in Haruhi's face drained away. Her eyes, large already, became big as saucers.
"No. Impossible."
Kyouya's gaze was steady.
Haruhi dropped her head into her hands, hair swinging forward in jagged locks over her fingers.
"And you . . . have never thought of Tamaki in such a way?" His stomach was icy, or perhaps it was his chest.
In truth, Haruhi had fantasized about all the club members--except Hunny, who was more of a little brother to her--and really, how could she not, being constantly surrounded by some of the best looking, richest boys in the school? But Tamaki was flowery and gentle, chivalrous--and that was it. An idealist. Something she could never afford to be. Tamaki would be good for a first time--and she was glad her face was still hidden in her hands so Kyouya couldn't see her blush--but she was a realist, and could never, ever return the sort of feelings Tamaki would offer her.
"No," was what she managed to say.
"Then it is good the Lord does not realize his own feelings."
Haruhi sat up. "What do you . . . ?"
Kyouya straightened his glasses. "It has been evident to the rest of the club--and now you, as well--that Tamaki--has feelings for you. He, however, interprets them as fatherly feelings. After all, he has never had a girlfriend. His youth was devoted to his mother and his music. So it follows that when he admires a girl, wants to protect her like any young man would, he misinterprets those feelings as familial. That is how he has always viewed the Host Club, more as family than friends. He does not understand, or know how to deal with, these new feelings."
"But how do you know what Tamaki does not?"
"I have known Tamaki for a very long time."
The rest of the drive to Haruhi's apartment was in silence.
* * *
At the beginning of the spring break, Tamaki decided they should throw a birthday party. He had been appalled in May when he discovered Haruhi's birthday had long since passed and, as it coincided (sort of) with the twins' birthday, Haruhi hadn't grumbled too much. Her sense of tension from the beginning of the term had eased a bit as the situation hadn't changed, and she felt a weekend at the twins' beach house would be a nice break. The rest of the break, of course, would be devoted to studying.
Invitations had been sent and purchases made, and the result (aside from having to hear the squealing of girls getting to see their favorite Host Club member in swim trunks) was really quite amazing. The patio and pool area had been decorated to look like an undersea kingdom of mermaids, and with the smell of salt and the sound of the waves just beyond the landscaping, it was very realistic. There was music, and dancing, and more food than Haruhi could eat in a year, and after the most avid fangirls had gone home, she let the twins persuade her into going for a swim in the ocean.
The tide was high and the waves rough, but she loved the feeling of being in the open water, of stretching and kicking her legs, of turning, when she was tired, and just floating on her back over the tops of waves and watching the stars wink into view as the clouds rolled away before the rising moon.
Tired and happy, she raced the twins up the beach, laughing as Hikaru tripped up Kaoru, who dragged his brother down with him. "I'm going back," she called to them, receiving only a muffled response, as one twin had his mouth full of sand, the other of arm.
In the changing cabin, which was really more the size of a luxury suite, Haruhi decided against the old t-shirt and shorts she'd had on earlier, and instead slipped a breezy sundress over her swimsuit. It suited her relaxed mood, and fluttered gently in the breeze. She smiled, and twirled a little, and waved to the twins as they came up the wooden steps, encrusted with sand.
"Look at the lord," Kaoru said with a snicker. Tamaki did indeed merit a grin, as he was still dancing wildly on the patio, which was strung with paper lanterns dyed cool, watery colors. "He's rather active tonight," Haruhi said mildly.
"Not for long. Soon he'll be snoring on a pool chair."
Haruhi looked from one brother to the other. "What did you do?" she asked, a trace of alarm in her voice.
Hikaru erupted into laughter. "We spiked his punch!"
Haruhi rolled her eyes. "As if he needs alcohol. What if he drinks too much?"
"Ah, he'll be fine. It was just enough to make him . . . like that," Kaoru responded dismissively.
Haruhi wasn't particularly impressed by this trick, though it didn't seem like it should be harmful.
"We're going to clean off. Then we should dance!"
"I don't know, it's getting late." But the twins were already running off, and Tamaki had spotted Haruhi. Hunny, on vacation from university, was also on the dance floor, and even Mori was doing something that sort of resembled dancing.
"Haruhi, come dance with me!" Tamaki exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and dragging him after her. He face was flushed and his movements a little more flamboyantly clumsy than usual. "Alright," she said, "but only for a little bit."
They joined Hunny, and a few moments later the twins appeared. Kyouya leaned against one of the food tables, sipping on the "seaweed punch."
"Come dance, mother!" Tamaki called, but Kyouya just looked at him over the rim of his glass, and he turned his attention back to Haruhi.
And then the music changed. Haruhi was fairly sure the twins had something to do with it, as they immediately became swoony and clutched each other, swaying to the slow, romantic music. Tamaki looked around, surprised at the change of pace, but quickly adjusted. "Dance with me, daughter?" he asked Haruhi with a low bow. Haruhi did not particularly want to slow dance, but his eyes pled, and she thought one dance wouldn't hurt. Hopefully it would calm him down a bit, and then she could go to bed.
Tamaki took Haruhi's right hand in his left, and slid his hand expertly around her waist. Of course, she thought, he must have had dancing lessons. And Tamaki was an excellent partner. Though his steps were occasionally awkward, they were skillful and measured, directing her around the dancefloor without force. It was odd to be led around--Haruhi wasn't sure she liked it--but she liked moving with a skillful partner (someone who could show her what to do), and soon relaxed into it. That dance became another, and another, and without her realizing it, Tamaki's hand curled around hers, and his arm around her waist brought them closer together.
Haruhi started when his hair brushed her ear, and then his lips. She pulled back, wide-eyed, and found Tamaki's gaze searching hers. "Haruhi, he whispered," as if astonished.
"Lord, I--" But he put a finger on her lips, and moved his face toward hers.
With a great rush of energy, Haruhi broke from his arms and bolted across the patio. She did not see the gazes, a moment ago carefully averted, staring after her with surprise. She ran to her suite, slammed the door, and leaned against it, heart beating huge in her chest. What on earth was she going to do? Hopefully, Tamaki would soon fall asleep, and forget what happened. But if he didn't . . .
She heard doors slam in another part of the house, voices raised, though she could not distinguish words or tone. When Haruhi caught her breath, she moved across the darkened room, and stared out at the sea. A few moments later, there was a quiet knock at her door. She didn't answer.
"Haruhi." It was Kyouya. "Come in."
He closed the door behind him, and moved to the window, standing several feet to her right. She could not tell where his eyes were, as a shadow fell across his face.
"Do not be angry at Tamaki."
"The twins said they spiked his punch."
"Hmm. I shall have to speak to them about that."
Silence.
"Is he very upset?"
"The Lord is always very dramatic." Kyouya turned to gaze out at the crashing waves. "I think it would be best to wait until morning to deal with it. See what he remembers, what he admits to himself."
Haruhi watched the tide go in and out, in and out. "I hope that the Host Club will not be ruined because of me." Though it had been quite different this year without Hunny and Mori--auditions had been held for additional members, but Tamaki and Kyouya were not able to satisfactorily agree on anyone--it was still there, it was still something. Haruhi had only slowly come to realize how much it meant to these very rich, very lonely boys. And how much it would hurt them if it disbanded forever.
"We always knew it would end some day. At least, everyone but Tamaki."
"What can I possibly say to appease Tamaki without giving in to something I don't want? He is a nice boy, with a good heart, but . . . he lives in his own world of dreams."
"And you are forced to remain in the real world." Haruhi was too lost in thought to notice Kyouya's unusual openness.
"Tamaki will never understand me," she said quietly, tracing an invisible pattern on the windowpane. She turned to Kyouya, her eyes huge and dark, and in a heartbeat a bridge was crossed. Haruhi felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her, and suddenly the distance between them was gone, and he was so near, and warm. His hands curled lightly around her arms, fingertips moving in little strokes that made her shiver. "Why do I want--" her breath caught in her throat.
"--this?" he whispered, and placed his lips softly on hers. It was not Kyouya's first kiss, nor Haruhi's, but for the physical impact to both of them, it could have been. A light brush of flesh quickly became insistant, Haruhi answering as forcefully as Kyouya demanded. They broke apart, and Haruhi found herself looking up into that same searching gaze she had seen in Tamaki's eyes, but in Kyouya's it was subtle, deep, and aware. Haruhi knew they should stop, she should pull away and send him out--and god knows Kyouya knew this--she wanted to stop and yet her body did not, it leaned into his surprisingly strong frame, and he brought his arms around her and picked her up.
Kyouya set her on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of eagerness to do something, anything to keep those eyes on his, her soft hands in his, and god he wanted Haruhi all to himself. Their gazes locked. Haruhi removed Kyouya's glasses and set them neatly on the nightstand. He leaned into her, and they kissed, mouths opening to each other. His tongue brushed hers, more politely than gently, and she felt her stomach drop. Haruhi's legs opened so she could pull him closer, arms twining into his hair and around his shoulders, strong underneath her fingers. There was a rushing in her ears.
Kyouya's hands trembled--trembled--as he moved them down Haruhi's back, and up, one finding the nape of her neck, one the small of her back. And his hand moved over her shoulders, savouring the soft skin of her arms, the gentle curve of her neck into her shoulder, unobscured by her short hair. It rested on her shoulder, thumb gently stroked the hollow under her collarbone. And his hand were around her ribs around her waist, moving slowly up again, making his intentions clear. Haruhi tightened her arms around his neck, both deepening the kiss and leaving room for his hands to move up, over her small breasts, cupping them gently, his fingers finding her nipples.
It was almost too much. Haruhi broke away, her head dropping. He rested his forehead on the crown of her head. "Shall I go, Haruhi?" He whispered, his voice almost even enough to deceive her. She felt her heartbeat throughout her body, almost choking her, and from her chest to deep between her legs. Haruhi dropped her arms, but her hands found the top button on his shirt. "No," she said firmly. Kyouya took her hands from his shirt. He leaned away, and peeled the shirt from his body. Haruhi gasped as he held her to him, warm and strong, and she only wanted to be closer, but she could not see how.
Kyouya felt her nipples hard against his chest, and he wanted nothing more but to touch them, and the soft flesh below, to take them between his lips, let his tongue play over them. He moved his hands down to Haruhi's thighs, to where the hem of her sundress was taut over her legs. He met her eyes, and then lifted her sundress in one smooth movement. His hands lingered over her--the small curve of her backside, the dip of her lower back, and the gentle stretch of her shoulder blades. And she was before him in nothing but her swimsuit, low over her hips, just the slightest curve of a tummy, and her small, high breasts, nipples pushing through the fabric of her top. Kyouya felt himself tighten and warm.
Again, hands were over her skin. Haruhi leaned into him, the softest of moans escaping her as he brought his lips to her neck, her shoulder, and back to her mouth as he pulled the tie on her bikini top. And then both of them lost track of what was happening, but there were lips and tongues, and hands, and skin, oh, wonderful soft, warm skin, and then both of them were naked, on the bed. Haruhi's heart beat, fast. She remembered this, she remembered, a year ago, when Kyouya had pushed her onto the bed, bent over her, like so, threatening and dangerous, and god, she'd had dreams for weeks that'd made her blush with shame. She bent her knee, and pulled him down. "Wait," he whispered into her hair.
And from somewhere, he pulled out a condom, rolling it down over himself, and Haruhi gasped to see his fingers move so slowly and firmly down his cock. From here, he could make out her features, though they were blurred. He trailed a hand up her leg, from her instep, over her shin, around her knee. It rested actively on her thigh--and then he moved his hand--and after a few searching movements, light blazed behind Haruhi's eyes and she arched against him. "No," she said, after his finger had moved in a few, slow, glorious circles. She leaned up on her elbows and pulled him to her.
And he loomed over her, his closeness pushing her back down to the bed and he settled on his forearms. One hand reached down, stroking her hip gently, spreading her legs--Haruhi could barely breath--and he guided himself into her, and she gasped with shock and pain.
Kyouya watched her eyes widen, leaned closer, held her to him. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he liked it but for the fact she was in pain. Her eyes were dark. "Keep going," she said, her voice strained. And as the rhythm pushed on, he felt her relax, and her muscles begin to clamp down. And as she held him, he let everything go. His worries, thoughts of business and profit, thoughts of the morning--and felt only the softness of her skin and her body tight around his cock--shudders wracked his body, colors shot across his eyes, and in a great wave of warmth, he collapsed.
Haruhi stayed awake long into the night. Kyouya had rolled away from her, but in his sleep he had rolled back, and she stroked his hair where his head rested on her shoulder. Morning would be here all too quickly.