Ouran/Gravitation- "Ouran Academy Guest Lecturers Series- Japanese Popular Literature (Yuki Eiri)"
Title: Ouran Academy Guest Lecturers Series- Japanese Popular Literature (Yuki Eiri)
Universe: Ouran High School Host Club/Gravitation
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13 for language
Character/Pairing/s: Yuki, Tohma, Tamaki, Haruhi, Kyouya, Mori, Honey, Hikaru, Kaoru (mentions of YukixShuuichi, splashes of HikaruxKaoru)
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I can imagine.
Word Count: 3,589
Time: 1:34 (a lot more difficult than the last one if only because Yuki’s a bitch.)
Summary: (Ouran/Gravitation crossover) Yet another drabble cycle- this time the much sought-after Yuki Eiri is persuaded to give a short lecture series at Ouran Academy.
Dedication: More for my own amusement than anything else again, but for Jen_kat then, as a welcome back of sorts.
A/N: Now I’m just having lots of fun screwing around with everyone’s universe, or something. Yes, this is what I’m doing instead of studying for my final on Wednesday. OH WELL. XD Don’t like this one as much as the first one, but I may just be having issues with how long it took. ^^;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
1.
After day one-which consisted of him taking and answering questions like any run of the mill TV interview-Yuki Eiri was fairly certain he could shake his hair out of his eyes for a good hour and a half and have the female population (90% of those attending the lecture) be satisfied with just that and no talk at all.
He retreated when the kids all broke to go and prepare for their activities period and wandered around in search of an unoccupied area of Ouran to have a smoke and delete the four-hundred text messages Shuuichi had dumped into his cell phone (all which probably asked “Are you having fun, Yuki? Do you miss me, Yuki?”) during the course of his lecture.
He wandered down a blissfully empty hallway and eventually, came upon a door that was marked as the third music room.
He figured-perhaps a bit naively-that if a school had a first and second music room that would mean that the third one would probably be less occupied. It would be easier to chase out the idiots lingering inside that way.
And so he pulled open the doors, and instead of finding nothing, was hit in the face by several rose petals.
When he got them cleared away from his eyes, a series of voices all exclaimed, “Irrashaimase” in synchronization, and he suddenly came face to face with a couple of pretty boys lounging around in kinky-ass Wild West Regalia.
He promptly shut the door again.
2.
He was calling it camouflage. That could really be the only reason he was hanging out here.
At least here-the Host Club was it?-there were other good-looking guys lounging about, which took some of the focus off of him.
He wasn’t going to admit that when he’d closed the doors a few moments ago and had turned around to leave, only to be faced with a bunch of oncoming high school girls with hearts in their eyes, that he’d yanked the door back open and decided to take his chances inside with the guys in the cowboy outfits.
He honestly hadn’t been expecting the ladies to be headed here in the first place.
It was camouflage. Really.
Except all the other guys around here were wearing very conspicuous wild west wear-he especially noted the pair of twins (oh god) practically making out a little ways away in their chaps-and wondered when his life had suddenly turned into a stereotypical homosexual buffet of wrongness.
Wait. Oh yeah.
Yuki sighed and took the tea sandwich some cute under-aged thing was offering him and wished he could smoke in here.
3.
“You’re not as charismatic as our last guest,” some brat with glasses said slyly. Yuki arched an eyebrow at him.
“Who was your last guest?”
“Sohma Shigure-sensei,” the kid ticked off without missing a beat, and Yuki wondered if he’d ever met Seguchi Tohma before.
As for Sohma… Yuki made a face. The last time he’d seen that weirdo Shigure had accosted him for an autograph and then promptly went off on a long spiel about how all writers in this great and wonderful country should really talk to each other more, it didn’t matter if, for example, Shigure’s books were more successful in international markets and with art critics than Yuki’s…what did matter was solidarity, blah, blah, blah.
He twitched at the memory. “Was he very popular?” he asked, and couldn’t believe he was curious.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and took a glance in his portfolio like he’d actually kept statistics from Shigure’s visit in there or something. “Oh he was wildly popular,” the boy stated. “Seventy-eight percent of Ouran’s female population went in and out of the Host Club’s doors during the two weeks he was here.”
Yuki felt his eye twitch again. “Seventy-eight, huh?”
He could totally do better than that if he wanted to.
Kyouya smiled and asked if he’d like to drop by for another visit tomorrow afternoon.
Yuki was so busy telling himself he didn’t want to get into some juvenile pissing contest with the memory of Sohma that he’d agreed before he realized what he was doing.
Kyouya promptly went off to make preparations for tomorrow-he expected a sudden upward spurt in the queue of customers and had to be properly equipped to manage them all, after all.
Yuki needed a cigarette.
4.
The next day word had spread-mysteriously-around campus that Yuki Eiri-sensei was going to be at the Host Club as a special guest after his afternoon lecture.
Yuki suspected it had something to do with the creepy kid with the glasses and the portfolio-something about him made him instantly think of Seguchi on certain matters (i.e. the blood in his veins went cold every once in a while in his presence).
His suspicions were confirmed shortly thereafter when he met the “King” of said Host Club formally, the blond teenager definitely way too much like Shuuichi for Yuki to expect him of using anything like guile. Clearly the glasses-kid was the one really in charge here.
“I love reading your stories!” Tamaki preened, and held out a felt marker and one of Yuki’s latest novels for a signature. “Ah, romance!! Only those who truly have felt such passions can convey its beauty so vividly, ne Yuki-sensei?”
Yuki cringed at the flowers in the kid’s eyes and quickly signed the book: “To King: Thanks for buying, Yuki.”
To be fair, he’d only written that because he’d forgotten the swishy brat’s name, but when Tamaki read the message his eyes literally watered and his bottom lip quivered and in his whole life Yuki had been absolutely certain he wasn’t going to meet another person who could do that at the drop of a hat like Shuuichi could.
And yet.
“HE CALLED ME KING!” Tamaki declared, and looked-disturbingly-- like he wanted to hug Yuki. Yuki managed to sidestep just in time, and the kid ended up barreling into some runt with brown hair instead.
“Ah, Tono’s being a pervert again!” those twins declared in creepy unison, and Yuki watched with mild amusement as the overly emotional blond all but had a crying fit trying to defend against the defamation of character the clones were laying on him.
Yuki supposed he could come back again tomorrow too-- and not just because he was totally going to kick Shigure’s ass-but because the allure of emotionally abusing someone and not feeling bad about it (damned Shuuichi) afterwards was a joy he hadn’t felt in a long ass time.
5.
“Yuki-sensei,” a shy little thing with limpid eyes asked him the next afternoon, two pretty blush spots blossoming on her cheeks.
This really was a piece of cake-he was going to kick Sohma’s wily ass without even trying. The universe was as it should be. “Yes?” he asked, and looked at her intensely through his bangs. He smiled wickedly, and that blush started to extend all the way down her throat. Not bad.
She lowered her voice then, and asked very quietly, “W-which of the hosts do you prefer best?”
He blinked.
Oh. Well, he supposed everyone knew about his preferences as of late. Absently, he looked around the room.
There was one pint-sized brat who he wouldn’t believe was a senior in high-school if he hadn’t seen Shuuichi naked and knew that they could indeed, get pretty damn small if they wanted to. Plus the whole overdone pink bunny thing was definitely giving him a deja-vu case of the heebie-jeebies. Definitely not him.
The blond idiot was sobbing in the corner again because the brown-haired girl in drag was ignoring him, and he crossed both of those off his list on principle-dating one ridiculous drama queen was enough for a lifetime as far as he was concerned, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t into dykes who wanted to look like guys. The kid with the glasses was a no too, because of the Tohma vibage.
The twins… a world of eeuw.
He blinked and looked at his last remaining option-- the tall kid who was absently staring out the window while he kept a veritable conveyor belt of sweets running towards the brat with the bunny. The one who said about one word every twenty minutes. “That one,” he decided, and gestured absently towards Mori.
The girl smiled up at him. “So Yuki-sensei likes the wild type, ne? It makes sense… if you date rock stars and stuff,” she murmured, and sounded like she was in some far off place.
“Sure,” he said, and gave her another one of those smoldering looks to distract her.
To be honest, he didn’t care if the kid was wild or not as long as he was the quiet type, he supposed. He got shrieked at enough at home as it was.
6.
When he was introduced to the dyke-Haruhi-she simply bowed at him in a sort of compulsory manner and said, “It’s nice to meet you, sensei.”
That had Tamaki practically in fits, and the number of wild hand gestures he made would have probably amazed even Shuuichi. “Do you know who he is, Haruhi? Only one of the best romance novelists in the world! Even commoners know who he is!”
She sighed. “I don’t read romance novels,” she said, flatly, before turning back to Yuki. “No offense.”
He shrugged at her. “None.”
Definitely a dyke, then. Mika would probably like her.
Tamaki on the other hand, looked fundamentally insulted. “You don’t read romance?!” he exclaimed. “How can you call yourself a host? The basic principles of this club rest on the foundation of the pure romance that exists between a man and a woman!” Pause. He looked at Yuki for a second “Or between a man and a man!” he added, just to be PC here.
“Guess she wouldn’t be interested in either,” Yuki butted in, when it looked like Haruhi’s eyes were glazing over and he felt his own about to do the same. “Since, you know, she’s a dyke.”
Both hosts stared at him.
And then Tamaki grabbed Haruhi by the shoulders and shook her in blind panic. “YOU ARE!? YOU’RE NOT ARE YOU? ARE YOU? OH GOD, OKAASAN!! OKAAASAN!”
The kid with the portfolio materialized out of nowhere. “Yes, Otousan?”
For Yuki, this was definitely getting really bizarre. Even more than it had been earlier, somehow (though he supposed the addition of pet names sort of did that to a person).
Tamaki mibbled. “Is Haruhi a…is Haruhi a…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and sighed, like he was used to this sort of thing or something. “Bisexual at least, Otousan. Don’t worry.”
Tamaki sobbed in relief.
Haruhi glared at everyone in her general vicinity. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable with everyone making their own decisions about me,” she said, and brushed Tamaki’s face off of her shoulder sourly.
She could talk all she wanted to, but Yuki still thought she was a dyke.
It was only sometime much later when Tamaki realized that Yuki had figured out Haruhi was a girl.
7.
“It’s so blatantly…blatantly…shameless!” Tamaki bemoaned to Kyouya one day, supposedly under his breath though Yuki thought that his screamed whispers weren’t really doing anything to hide what he was saying (or the fact that he was an Idiot King). “It’s like…it’s like he’s undressing them and ravishing them with his eyes!” the blonde sniffled. “Our guests can’t possibly like that, can they? Where’s the romance?”
Kyouya absently patted his king’s head and continued happily calculating all the additional revenue Yuki Eiri’s presence in the third music room had garnered for their next semester’s funds.
“Clearly, clearly you can’t see the appeal! Honestly, I’m disappointed in you, Tamaki-san!”
Yuki only had a second to wonder where the hell that woman’s voice was coming from (given that the club wasn’t even open for business yet) before Renge’s high powered motor came blasting through the floorboards scant inches from where he’d been standing.
He stared.
The girl who rose out of the ground had cute curls in her hair and the sort of voice that reminded Yuki why he was gay more often than he was straight.
“Ohohoho, welcome, Yuki Eiri-sensei!” Renge declared, and held up his latest novel between delicate hands.
“Perhaps Renge-chan can provide us with an enlightened opinion on the matter,” Kyouya suggested to Tamaki, and expertly extradited himself as the sobbing lord’s counselor on the matter altogether.
“Why, I’m glad you asked, Kyouya-kun! Bow to my superior knowledge!” she said, and laughed behind her hand. “For you see, Yuki Eiri-sensei is the type who Ouran will never-indeed could never-- have as a permanent host! Too volatile! Too calculative! Too unpredictable! A womanizer! A playboy! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the bad boy type! He is the allure of the forbidden and the one who the women all want to change for the better! A deadly combination indeed!”
Really, listening to her go on and on like this, Yuki wanted to go have sex with some guys like, right now.
He was convinced she was going to grow up to be one of those women who scarred men from the fairer sex for life.
He turned to Haruhi and gestured with his thumb towards Renge. “She your little girlfriend or something?”
Tamaki face-faulted.
8.
Maybe they’d wanted to get a rise out of him when they’d approached him, but Hikaru and Kaoru mostly were interested in what real homo-homo side characters thought about thing in general. Plus, for all his love of the gay, Yuki Eiri-sensei’s body of work had a surprising dearth of the stuff.
“Ne, Yuki Eiri-sensei…”
“… how come you never write any homosexual romance?”
The looked at each other then, and touched foreheads, limbs intertwined around each other professionally enough that Yuki might have thought it was straight out of one of those homosexual romances they were talking about. He arched a brow at them. “If you two are so gay,” he countered, “how come you haven’t fucked yet?”
To their credit, they smiled deviously instead of folding to his abrupt rejoinder. “How do you know we haven’t already?” they answered in creepy unison. “We’re brothers you know, we have ample opportunities.”
Yuki sighed, and thought that these naïve kids would stop trying to play games with adults. “Because only virgins touch each other that much in public,” he stated coolly, and earned collective gasps and blushes from the young ladies in the vicinity. Even though the girls probably knew more about how gay sex worked than the two idiots with the identical faces actually did themselves. Go figure.
The twins looked at him.
He looked back at them.
After a moment, they reached some sort of understanding.
Or at least, something like a relative ceasefire between worthy opponents.
“So,” Yuki started, and segued from the topic rather smoothly, “if I let the two of you call me oniisama, you think I could get in on some of that action? I’ll make your first times good, promise.”
The girls promptly forgot about the previous faux pas and swooned at the idea.
The twins remembered Shigure’s words absently, and thought that the chance that was presenting itself might be a good opportunity to spread their horizons a little.
Hikaru blushed, and it was a veritable Host Club first. The girls were practically having seizures in their seats at his pink cheeks.
He turned around then, and touched his brother’s face. “I was waiting for our eighteenth birthday, Kaoru,” he began, and sounded just the right amount of embarrassed as he moved to explain, “so I could come to you as a man and make you my bride.”
Kaoru’s eyes shone with just the right amount of unshed tears. “Oh, Hikaru.”
“But…” Hikaru started, and stole a shy look to the side at Yuki, “if Yuki-oniisama can show us…maybe it will be less painful for Kaoru…”
“Sacrificial brotherly love!!!” the girls all sighed. Yuki could almost see their spirits floating out of their bodies.
That afternoon Eiri got a twin on each arm and Tamaki’s sputtering, flailing horror when the famous novelist winked and invited Haruhi to join them so it would be an even numbered party.
9.
“Ne, Yuki-sensei,” one girl asked, as he blatantly ignored the vibrating phone in his pocket, “how come you never pick up your phone?”
He sighed. “It’s probably Shuuichi.”
The girl looked absolutely enthralled at the prospect of a phone call from a rock star. She blushed. “Don’t you want to talk to… your lover?”
The instant response that came to his mind (“not in particular”) probably wouldn’t have sat to well with the crowd though. So he tossed his hair back out of his eyes and smiled. “I guess I was just so happy to be talking to everyone here and didn’t notice it ringing.”
She smiled up at him through her lashes and he figured these were the types of innocent lovelorn schoolgirls he could probably get to orgasm with just a couple of pretty words and a pat on the head. He supposed it must be nice to grow up filthy stinking rich.
“I wouldn’t mind if you answered,” she said, and it was totally obvious what she wanted to hear.
Yuki sighed. “Then excuse me for just a moment.” He picked up his phone. “Hello?”
“YUKI!! YUKI HOW COME YOU NEVER CALLED ME BACK?! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME? WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW? OH GOD I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE I MISS YOU SO MUCH! YOU ASSHOLE!”
Yuki cringed and held the phone away from his ear, though all the current inhabitants of the third music room could probably hear the conversation given Shuuichi’s megaphone lungs.
He sighed, and tried not to glare at everyone who was very obviously listening and said the first thing that would shut his idiot lover up he could think of. “I miss you too,” he murmured, very, very quietly.
Girls swooned everywhere.
The other end of the phone went dead silent.
Yuki blinked. “Oi… hello?”
After a moment, a very small voice responded, and it sounded absolutely distraught. “Yuki… Yuki are you dying?”
He scowled. “No, I’m not dying.”
“Are you sick?”
Yuki hung up.
The girls really thought it was the cutest thing in the entire universe.
10.
On his last day Yuki was really rather eager to get out of this bizarre, alterno-universe he’d found himself in the past two weeks, but not before he got the results from the challenge officially (even though he already knew what they were).
“You tied,” Kyouya explained, and was reading off that damned portfolio of his again.
Yuki scowled. “You’re making that up.”
Kyouya adjusted his glasses, and they gleamed. “I assure you I’m not, Yuki Eiri-sensei,” he said politely, and took one step to the side before reaching behind him and pulling down a full pie-chart, bar-graph combo seemingly out of thin air. “You actually lost in terms of female standings, as you only raised the club’s female guest ratio by a percentage of seventy-three percent,” he explained, before gesturing to a smaller chart off to the side. “You did however manage to increase the male customers-your reputation precedes you, I suppose- to nine percent of the total male population of Ouran. When added that increases club guest statistics for the club during your time here to an even seventy-eight percent rise in numbers for the student body as a whole.”
Yuki sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter either way.”
Kyouya smiled. “I’m sure it doesn’t.”
Yuki got that shivery bad-touch feeling again (the one he associated with Tohma when he got a certain look on his face) and took a step backwards. “Be seeing you then.”
“It was an honor to have you here, sensei,” Kyouya responded and bowed ever so slightly.
Yuki took another step back. Eyed the kid like he wanted to say something. Then thought better of it and turned around.
He left without another word, and only when the door had closed behind him did Kyouya take out his cell phone.
He looked into his portfolio for the number he’d been given two weeks ago and dialed it, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Seguchi.”
“Seguchi-san,” Kyouya greeted, formally. “This is Ootori Kyouya.”
“Kyouya-kun. How are things?”
“Yuki Eiri-sensei has just left the building,” he reported faithfully, glancing out of the window just in time to see a now-familiar blond figure make his way through the courtyard.
“I trust you kept him out of trouble during his stay with you?”
“Of course,” Kyouya assured the record producer smoothly. “As a very important shareholder in Ootori group stocks, I would be very foolish indeed to let you down, Seguchi-san.”
He could practically hear the other man’s smile from the other end. “Very good then. We’ll be in touch.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Seguchi-san.”
Seguchi chuckled a little into the phone. “I’ll have that written recommendation to your father in the mail within the week.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Kyouya hung up with something like a smile, and for the rest of the day everyone in the host club went out of their particular way to avoid him, if only because the happy look on his face instinctively sent collective chills down all of their spines.
END
EDITZ PLS.
Universe: Ouran High School Host Club/Gravitation
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13 for language
Character/Pairing/s: Yuki, Tohma, Tamaki, Haruhi, Kyouya, Mori, Honey, Hikaru, Kaoru (mentions of YukixShuuichi, splashes of HikaruxKaoru)
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I can imagine.
Word Count: 3,589
Time: 1:34 (a lot more difficult than the last one if only because Yuki’s a bitch.)
Summary: (Ouran/Gravitation crossover) Yet another drabble cycle- this time the much sought-after Yuki Eiri is persuaded to give a short lecture series at Ouran Academy.
Dedication: More for my own amusement than anything else again, but for Jen_kat then, as a welcome back of sorts.
A/N: Now I’m just having lots of fun screwing around with everyone’s universe, or something. Yes, this is what I’m doing instead of studying for my final on Wednesday. OH WELL. XD Don’t like this one as much as the first one, but I may just be having issues with how long it took. ^^;;
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
1.
After day one-which consisted of him taking and answering questions like any run of the mill TV interview-Yuki Eiri was fairly certain he could shake his hair out of his eyes for a good hour and a half and have the female population (90% of those attending the lecture) be satisfied with just that and no talk at all.
He retreated when the kids all broke to go and prepare for their activities period and wandered around in search of an unoccupied area of Ouran to have a smoke and delete the four-hundred text messages Shuuichi had dumped into his cell phone (all which probably asked “Are you having fun, Yuki? Do you miss me, Yuki?”) during the course of his lecture.
He wandered down a blissfully empty hallway and eventually, came upon a door that was marked as the third music room.
He figured-perhaps a bit naively-that if a school had a first and second music room that would mean that the third one would probably be less occupied. It would be easier to chase out the idiots lingering inside that way.
And so he pulled open the doors, and instead of finding nothing, was hit in the face by several rose petals.
When he got them cleared away from his eyes, a series of voices all exclaimed, “Irrashaimase” in synchronization, and he suddenly came face to face with a couple of pretty boys lounging around in kinky-ass Wild West Regalia.
He promptly shut the door again.
2.
He was calling it camouflage. That could really be the only reason he was hanging out here.
At least here-the Host Club was it?-there were other good-looking guys lounging about, which took some of the focus off of him.
He wasn’t going to admit that when he’d closed the doors a few moments ago and had turned around to leave, only to be faced with a bunch of oncoming high school girls with hearts in their eyes, that he’d yanked the door back open and decided to take his chances inside with the guys in the cowboy outfits.
He honestly hadn’t been expecting the ladies to be headed here in the first place.
It was camouflage. Really.
Except all the other guys around here were wearing very conspicuous wild west wear-he especially noted the pair of twins (oh god) practically making out a little ways away in their chaps-and wondered when his life had suddenly turned into a stereotypical homosexual buffet of wrongness.
Wait. Oh yeah.
Yuki sighed and took the tea sandwich some cute under-aged thing was offering him and wished he could smoke in here.
3.
“You’re not as charismatic as our last guest,” some brat with glasses said slyly. Yuki arched an eyebrow at him.
“Who was your last guest?”
“Sohma Shigure-sensei,” the kid ticked off without missing a beat, and Yuki wondered if he’d ever met Seguchi Tohma before.
As for Sohma… Yuki made a face. The last time he’d seen that weirdo Shigure had accosted him for an autograph and then promptly went off on a long spiel about how all writers in this great and wonderful country should really talk to each other more, it didn’t matter if, for example, Shigure’s books were more successful in international markets and with art critics than Yuki’s…what did matter was solidarity, blah, blah, blah.
He twitched at the memory. “Was he very popular?” he asked, and couldn’t believe he was curious.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and took a glance in his portfolio like he’d actually kept statistics from Shigure’s visit in there or something. “Oh he was wildly popular,” the boy stated. “Seventy-eight percent of Ouran’s female population went in and out of the Host Club’s doors during the two weeks he was here.”
Yuki felt his eye twitch again. “Seventy-eight, huh?”
He could totally do better than that if he wanted to.
Kyouya smiled and asked if he’d like to drop by for another visit tomorrow afternoon.
Yuki was so busy telling himself he didn’t want to get into some juvenile pissing contest with the memory of Sohma that he’d agreed before he realized what he was doing.
Kyouya promptly went off to make preparations for tomorrow-he expected a sudden upward spurt in the queue of customers and had to be properly equipped to manage them all, after all.
Yuki needed a cigarette.
4.
The next day word had spread-mysteriously-around campus that Yuki Eiri-sensei was going to be at the Host Club as a special guest after his afternoon lecture.
Yuki suspected it had something to do with the creepy kid with the glasses and the portfolio-something about him made him instantly think of Seguchi on certain matters (i.e. the blood in his veins went cold every once in a while in his presence).
His suspicions were confirmed shortly thereafter when he met the “King” of said Host Club formally, the blond teenager definitely way too much like Shuuichi for Yuki to expect him of using anything like guile. Clearly the glasses-kid was the one really in charge here.
“I love reading your stories!” Tamaki preened, and held out a felt marker and one of Yuki’s latest novels for a signature. “Ah, romance!! Only those who truly have felt such passions can convey its beauty so vividly, ne Yuki-sensei?”
Yuki cringed at the flowers in the kid’s eyes and quickly signed the book: “To King: Thanks for buying, Yuki.”
To be fair, he’d only written that because he’d forgotten the swishy brat’s name, but when Tamaki read the message his eyes literally watered and his bottom lip quivered and in his whole life Yuki had been absolutely certain he wasn’t going to meet another person who could do that at the drop of a hat like Shuuichi could.
And yet.
“HE CALLED ME KING!” Tamaki declared, and looked-disturbingly-- like he wanted to hug Yuki. Yuki managed to sidestep just in time, and the kid ended up barreling into some runt with brown hair instead.
“Ah, Tono’s being a pervert again!” those twins declared in creepy unison, and Yuki watched with mild amusement as the overly emotional blond all but had a crying fit trying to defend against the defamation of character the clones were laying on him.
Yuki supposed he could come back again tomorrow too-- and not just because he was totally going to kick Shigure’s ass-but because the allure of emotionally abusing someone and not feeling bad about it (damned Shuuichi) afterwards was a joy he hadn’t felt in a long ass time.
5.
“Yuki-sensei,” a shy little thing with limpid eyes asked him the next afternoon, two pretty blush spots blossoming on her cheeks.
This really was a piece of cake-he was going to kick Sohma’s wily ass without even trying. The universe was as it should be. “Yes?” he asked, and looked at her intensely through his bangs. He smiled wickedly, and that blush started to extend all the way down her throat. Not bad.
She lowered her voice then, and asked very quietly, “W-which of the hosts do you prefer best?”
He blinked.
Oh. Well, he supposed everyone knew about his preferences as of late. Absently, he looked around the room.
There was one pint-sized brat who he wouldn’t believe was a senior in high-school if he hadn’t seen Shuuichi naked and knew that they could indeed, get pretty damn small if they wanted to. Plus the whole overdone pink bunny thing was definitely giving him a deja-vu case of the heebie-jeebies. Definitely not him.
The blond idiot was sobbing in the corner again because the brown-haired girl in drag was ignoring him, and he crossed both of those off his list on principle-dating one ridiculous drama queen was enough for a lifetime as far as he was concerned, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t into dykes who wanted to look like guys. The kid with the glasses was a no too, because of the Tohma vibage.
The twins… a world of eeuw.
He blinked and looked at his last remaining option-- the tall kid who was absently staring out the window while he kept a veritable conveyor belt of sweets running towards the brat with the bunny. The one who said about one word every twenty minutes. “That one,” he decided, and gestured absently towards Mori.
The girl smiled up at him. “So Yuki-sensei likes the wild type, ne? It makes sense… if you date rock stars and stuff,” she murmured, and sounded like she was in some far off place.
“Sure,” he said, and gave her another one of those smoldering looks to distract her.
To be honest, he didn’t care if the kid was wild or not as long as he was the quiet type, he supposed. He got shrieked at enough at home as it was.
6.
When he was introduced to the dyke-Haruhi-she simply bowed at him in a sort of compulsory manner and said, “It’s nice to meet you, sensei.”
That had Tamaki practically in fits, and the number of wild hand gestures he made would have probably amazed even Shuuichi. “Do you know who he is, Haruhi? Only one of the best romance novelists in the world! Even commoners know who he is!”
She sighed. “I don’t read romance novels,” she said, flatly, before turning back to Yuki. “No offense.”
He shrugged at her. “None.”
Definitely a dyke, then. Mika would probably like her.
Tamaki on the other hand, looked fundamentally insulted. “You don’t read romance?!” he exclaimed. “How can you call yourself a host? The basic principles of this club rest on the foundation of the pure romance that exists between a man and a woman!” Pause. He looked at Yuki for a second “Or between a man and a man!” he added, just to be PC here.
“Guess she wouldn’t be interested in either,” Yuki butted in, when it looked like Haruhi’s eyes were glazing over and he felt his own about to do the same. “Since, you know, she’s a dyke.”
Both hosts stared at him.
And then Tamaki grabbed Haruhi by the shoulders and shook her in blind panic. “YOU ARE!? YOU’RE NOT ARE YOU? ARE YOU? OH GOD, OKAASAN!! OKAAASAN!”
The kid with the portfolio materialized out of nowhere. “Yes, Otousan?”
For Yuki, this was definitely getting really bizarre. Even more than it had been earlier, somehow (though he supposed the addition of pet names sort of did that to a person).
Tamaki mibbled. “Is Haruhi a…is Haruhi a…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses and sighed, like he was used to this sort of thing or something. “Bisexual at least, Otousan. Don’t worry.”
Tamaki sobbed in relief.
Haruhi glared at everyone in her general vicinity. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable with everyone making their own decisions about me,” she said, and brushed Tamaki’s face off of her shoulder sourly.
She could talk all she wanted to, but Yuki still thought she was a dyke.
It was only sometime much later when Tamaki realized that Yuki had figured out Haruhi was a girl.
7.
“It’s so blatantly…blatantly…shameless!” Tamaki bemoaned to Kyouya one day, supposedly under his breath though Yuki thought that his screamed whispers weren’t really doing anything to hide what he was saying (or the fact that he was an Idiot King). “It’s like…it’s like he’s undressing them and ravishing them with his eyes!” the blonde sniffled. “Our guests can’t possibly like that, can they? Where’s the romance?”
Kyouya absently patted his king’s head and continued happily calculating all the additional revenue Yuki Eiri’s presence in the third music room had garnered for their next semester’s funds.
“Clearly, clearly you can’t see the appeal! Honestly, I’m disappointed in you, Tamaki-san!”
Yuki only had a second to wonder where the hell that woman’s voice was coming from (given that the club wasn’t even open for business yet) before Renge’s high powered motor came blasting through the floorboards scant inches from where he’d been standing.
He stared.
The girl who rose out of the ground had cute curls in her hair and the sort of voice that reminded Yuki why he was gay more often than he was straight.
“Ohohoho, welcome, Yuki Eiri-sensei!” Renge declared, and held up his latest novel between delicate hands.
“Perhaps Renge-chan can provide us with an enlightened opinion on the matter,” Kyouya suggested to Tamaki, and expertly extradited himself as the sobbing lord’s counselor on the matter altogether.
“Why, I’m glad you asked, Kyouya-kun! Bow to my superior knowledge!” she said, and laughed behind her hand. “For you see, Yuki Eiri-sensei is the type who Ouran will never-indeed could never-- have as a permanent host! Too volatile! Too calculative! Too unpredictable! A womanizer! A playboy! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the bad boy type! He is the allure of the forbidden and the one who the women all want to change for the better! A deadly combination indeed!”
Really, listening to her go on and on like this, Yuki wanted to go have sex with some guys like, right now.
He was convinced she was going to grow up to be one of those women who scarred men from the fairer sex for life.
He turned to Haruhi and gestured with his thumb towards Renge. “She your little girlfriend or something?”
Tamaki face-faulted.
8.
Maybe they’d wanted to get a rise out of him when they’d approached him, but Hikaru and Kaoru mostly were interested in what real homo-homo side characters thought about thing in general. Plus, for all his love of the gay, Yuki Eiri-sensei’s body of work had a surprising dearth of the stuff.
“Ne, Yuki Eiri-sensei…”
“… how come you never write any homosexual romance?”
The looked at each other then, and touched foreheads, limbs intertwined around each other professionally enough that Yuki might have thought it was straight out of one of those homosexual romances they were talking about. He arched a brow at them. “If you two are so gay,” he countered, “how come you haven’t fucked yet?”
To their credit, they smiled deviously instead of folding to his abrupt rejoinder. “How do you know we haven’t already?” they answered in creepy unison. “We’re brothers you know, we have ample opportunities.”
Yuki sighed, and thought that these naïve kids would stop trying to play games with adults. “Because only virgins touch each other that much in public,” he stated coolly, and earned collective gasps and blushes from the young ladies in the vicinity. Even though the girls probably knew more about how gay sex worked than the two idiots with the identical faces actually did themselves. Go figure.
The twins looked at him.
He looked back at them.
After a moment, they reached some sort of understanding.
Or at least, something like a relative ceasefire between worthy opponents.
“So,” Yuki started, and segued from the topic rather smoothly, “if I let the two of you call me oniisama, you think I could get in on some of that action? I’ll make your first times good, promise.”
The girls promptly forgot about the previous faux pas and swooned at the idea.
The twins remembered Shigure’s words absently, and thought that the chance that was presenting itself might be a good opportunity to spread their horizons a little.
Hikaru blushed, and it was a veritable Host Club first. The girls were practically having seizures in their seats at his pink cheeks.
He turned around then, and touched his brother’s face. “I was waiting for our eighteenth birthday, Kaoru,” he began, and sounded just the right amount of embarrassed as he moved to explain, “so I could come to you as a man and make you my bride.”
Kaoru’s eyes shone with just the right amount of unshed tears. “Oh, Hikaru.”
“But…” Hikaru started, and stole a shy look to the side at Yuki, “if Yuki-oniisama can show us…maybe it will be less painful for Kaoru…”
“Sacrificial brotherly love!!!” the girls all sighed. Yuki could almost see their spirits floating out of their bodies.
That afternoon Eiri got a twin on each arm and Tamaki’s sputtering, flailing horror when the famous novelist winked and invited Haruhi to join them so it would be an even numbered party.
9.
“Ne, Yuki-sensei,” one girl asked, as he blatantly ignored the vibrating phone in his pocket, “how come you never pick up your phone?”
He sighed. “It’s probably Shuuichi.”
The girl looked absolutely enthralled at the prospect of a phone call from a rock star. She blushed. “Don’t you want to talk to… your lover?”
The instant response that came to his mind (“not in particular”) probably wouldn’t have sat to well with the crowd though. So he tossed his hair back out of his eyes and smiled. “I guess I was just so happy to be talking to everyone here and didn’t notice it ringing.”
She smiled up at him through her lashes and he figured these were the types of innocent lovelorn schoolgirls he could probably get to orgasm with just a couple of pretty words and a pat on the head. He supposed it must be nice to grow up filthy stinking rich.
“I wouldn’t mind if you answered,” she said, and it was totally obvious what she wanted to hear.
Yuki sighed. “Then excuse me for just a moment.” He picked up his phone. “Hello?”
“YUKI!! YUKI HOW COME YOU NEVER CALLED ME BACK?! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME? WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW? OH GOD I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE I MISS YOU SO MUCH! YOU ASSHOLE!”
Yuki cringed and held the phone away from his ear, though all the current inhabitants of the third music room could probably hear the conversation given Shuuichi’s megaphone lungs.
He sighed, and tried not to glare at everyone who was very obviously listening and said the first thing that would shut his idiot lover up he could think of. “I miss you too,” he murmured, very, very quietly.
Girls swooned everywhere.
The other end of the phone went dead silent.
Yuki blinked. “Oi… hello?”
After a moment, a very small voice responded, and it sounded absolutely distraught. “Yuki… Yuki are you dying?”
He scowled. “No, I’m not dying.”
“Are you sick?”
Yuki hung up.
The girls really thought it was the cutest thing in the entire universe.
10.
On his last day Yuki was really rather eager to get out of this bizarre, alterno-universe he’d found himself in the past two weeks, but not before he got the results from the challenge officially (even though he already knew what they were).
“You tied,” Kyouya explained, and was reading off that damned portfolio of his again.
Yuki scowled. “You’re making that up.”
Kyouya adjusted his glasses, and they gleamed. “I assure you I’m not, Yuki Eiri-sensei,” he said politely, and took one step to the side before reaching behind him and pulling down a full pie-chart, bar-graph combo seemingly out of thin air. “You actually lost in terms of female standings, as you only raised the club’s female guest ratio by a percentage of seventy-three percent,” he explained, before gesturing to a smaller chart off to the side. “You did however manage to increase the male customers-your reputation precedes you, I suppose- to nine percent of the total male population of Ouran. When added that increases club guest statistics for the club during your time here to an even seventy-eight percent rise in numbers for the student body as a whole.”
Yuki sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter either way.”
Kyouya smiled. “I’m sure it doesn’t.”
Yuki got that shivery bad-touch feeling again (the one he associated with Tohma when he got a certain look on his face) and took a step backwards. “Be seeing you then.”
“It was an honor to have you here, sensei,” Kyouya responded and bowed ever so slightly.
Yuki took another step back. Eyed the kid like he wanted to say something. Then thought better of it and turned around.
He left without another word, and only when the door had closed behind him did Kyouya take out his cell phone.
He looked into his portfolio for the number he’d been given two weeks ago and dialed it, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Seguchi.”
“Seguchi-san,” Kyouya greeted, formally. “This is Ootori Kyouya.”
“Kyouya-kun. How are things?”
“Yuki Eiri-sensei has just left the building,” he reported faithfully, glancing out of the window just in time to see a now-familiar blond figure make his way through the courtyard.
“I trust you kept him out of trouble during his stay with you?”
“Of course,” Kyouya assured the record producer smoothly. “As a very important shareholder in Ootori group stocks, I would be very foolish indeed to let you down, Seguchi-san.”
He could practically hear the other man’s smile from the other end. “Very good then. We’ll be in touch.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Seguchi-san.”
Seguchi chuckled a little into the phone. “I’ll have that written recommendation to your father in the mail within the week.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Kyouya hung up with something like a smile, and for the rest of the day everyone in the host club went out of their particular way to avoid him, if only because the happy look on his face instinctively sent collective chills down all of their spines.
END
EDITZ PLS.