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chineseinkStir For Two Minutes
Ouran Koko Host Club, PG, Tamaki/Haruhi, 1750 words
Haruhi teaches the Host Club how to cook.
For my darling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wakkawoo on her 18th birthday. ♥!
Stir For Two Minutes
bymeitachi
Kyouya was by nature subtle, manipulative, and ruthlessly mercenary. Without him, the host club would’ve have fallen flat on its first attempt—while the lure of attractive boys was a temptation not to be belittled, the additional fantasy and luxury supplied by Kyouya’s exactingly siphoned funds proved to be the final irresistible touch to make the club a success. Tamaki professed every few days how terribly lost they’d all be without their vice president.
Even he was never privy to the full extent of Kyouya’s machinations and, instead, often fell prey to them unawares.
“One of a girl’s dearest dreams,” Kyouya murmured, tapping his pen against the notebook, “is for an extravagant candlelit dinner, full of roses, soft music, and romance.”
Tamaki smiled, eyes half-lidded. “But of course,” he said, twirling a rose between his fingers. “Every girl wants to feel like a princess. And we, their princes, shall provide!” He waved his arm broadly, gesturing at the mostly empty room, devoid of giggling girls now that the host club had concluded its business for the day.
Kyouya’s eyes disappeared behind the flash of light glinting off his glasses. His smile was quite visible, however. “An extravagant dinner cooked for her by her prince,” he elaborated.
Haruhi was bracing herself even before the thought processed in Tamaki’s head. She flinched when he leaped to his feet, eyes bright. “Oh! Cooking!” he exclaimed. “That’s certainly a commoner’s chore, isn’t it? Oh, Haruhi, Haruhi!” He rounded on her, hands clutching at her arms eagerly. “You’ll teach us how to cook the way commoners do, won’t you? We’ll all learn to make a magnificent feast that will win over any princess!”
“Um,” said Haruhi, looking dismayed. Teach this lot of spoiled, rich boys how to cook? If she had ever been presented an impossible task, this would be it.
“Oh, oh! Honey wants to learn!” A head of golden locks bobbed up to her side, Honey’s eyes wide and eager. “Haru-chan, will you teach me?” She blinked at him, at a loss for words. “Takashi, Takashi! You want to learn too, right?” Honey had bounced over to Mori and was clambering into his lap, chattering excitedly.
“Eh,” said Kaoru, eyeing Hikaru and then looking at Haruhi. He slung an arm around his twin. “Cooking, huh?”
Hikaru cocked an eyebrow. “Haruhi will wear an apron, won’t she? Ehhh?” He and Kaoru leered.
“Oh, ohhh!” wailed Tamaki, dropping Haruhi’s arms to clasp his hands together in joy. Tears sprang to his eyes as he sunk to his knees in front of her chair. “Haruhi, in a delicate, frilly pink apron, looking so dainty and feminine as she teaches us how to cook a delicious feast. How beautiful!”
Haruhi twitched. She didn’t think she owned anything pink and frilly, much less an apron. “Senpai,” she said, clenching her hands. “I don’t think—” this is possible, she meant to say, before a low, amused voice interrupted her.
“I’ll take ten thousand off your debt.” Kyouya smiled at her wide-eyed expression.
”I—I’ll do it,” she said in a faint voice, wondering exactly what she’d gotten herself into.
--
Even Ouran Academy’s Home Ec room was crowded with seven students, all clad in standard-issue, no-frills white aprons. (Tamaki had sunk into a brief depression at the sight, muttering a soliloquy under his breath.) Haruhi had been adamant that none of them would be going to her house to learn to cook because there wasn’t enough room and, frankly, she didn’t want them there. (Another tearful outburst from Tamaki had ensued.) She would teach them all to cook a basic dish of stir-fry tomatoes and eggs. She really didn’t want to risk meat yet.
“What’s this?” the twins asked in unison, each holding up a metal whisk.
“How do you open the eggs, Haru-chan?” Honey asked, banging an egg around. He cracked it open on the edge of the counter and stared in shock at the ooze that covered his hands. “Waaaah!” he cried.
“We’ll need flour of course,” declared Tamaki, pulling out a bag and dumping it on the counter. “Some butter and almonds and potatoes and green peppers and ground pork.” He had been determined to come into the lesson well-prepared and impress Haruhi with what a wonderful student he was. Unfortunately, he had flipped through a sticky cookbook and had collected half his ingredients from an almond cookie recipe and the other half from a shepherd’s pie.
“En garde!” shouted Hikaru, lunging at Karou with his with his whisk brandished.
“Takashi, help!” cried Honey, trailing sticky egg residue across the counter.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Haruhi yelled, hair sticking out in a frazzled mess. She put her head in her hands for a moment and wondered why she had agreed to this. Where had her sanity gone? Looking up again, she saw Kyouya and Mori standing calmly next to their respective stoves, ignoring all the chaos. Kyouya was scribbling away in his notebook, as usual, and Mori was surveying the others with a stoic expression. Oh, right. Blackmail.
“Stop fighting!” she ordered Hikaru and Kaoru, “or I won’t let you try my cooking.” They stopped immediately, tossing the whisks behind their back into the sink and pretending they’d never had them. “Here, Honey-senpai.” She handed Honey a damp rag and wiped his hand off, scooping the remains of the egg and its shell into the trash. “And Tamaki-senpai!” she shouted in exasperation, “We won’t be using any of that. Please just stand still and pay attention!”
Tamaki looked abashed momentarily. Then his lower lip trembled. “Oh Haruhi-chan, you are so commanding!” He clasped her in a quick embrace.
“Off!” She shoved him back and glared at him. “Now everyone, behave. And watch what I do closely.” Rolling up her sleeves, she set about washing her two tomatoes carefully under cold water. “Just rinse the tomatoes under cold water,” she told the boys, “and then get out your cutting board and knife. After we dice the tomatoes, we’ll beat the eggs and—“
“Haruhi,” the twins said, “what’s the cutting board look like?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” she said and went to help them. Then Tamaki demanded her attention because he didn’t know which knife to use. Further problems ensued down the line as Honey attacked his eggs the way he attacked the tea during tea ceremonies and lost half of the bowl to the counter. No one was quite sure what “dicing” entailed either, but Mori seemed to have the best grasp of it after Haruhi’s demonstration. The lesson further derailed when the twins discovered the cabinet full of various spices and took it upon themselves to add as many as they could to their eggs before Haruhi caught them and made them start over.
All in all, it was a very interesting experience, Haruhi reflected as she surveyed the seven plates of egg-and-tomato on the counter. Six pairs of eyes watched her as she went down the line and gave each a taste.
Hers was fine, of course, but this was a basic dish she’d been making since she was nine. “Mori-senpai’s is very good,” she said with a smile. She wasn’t entirely surprised as he had been a very diligent worker. Silent but good at following instructions.
“Yay, Takashi!” Honey exclaimed, giving his friend a hug.
Haruhi nearly choked on Hikaru and Kaoru’s dishes. “You weren’t supposed to put chili powder,” she told them after Tamaki rushed to hand her a glass of water. She coughed.
“But we like spicy food,” they told her, grinning.
She just looked at them and rather thought they’d done it on purpose. She moved on, taking a bite of Honey’s slightly undercooked eggs and tomatoes. “It’s—very sweet,” she said at last. “You probably shouldn’t put so much sugar in it, Honey-senpai, but otherwise it’s very good,” she added hastily as wide eyes grew wider. Honey broke out into a smile at her words.
“Kyouya-senpai’s is also very good.” Haruhi glanced at their vice-president suspiciously. His dish, in fact, might be better than hers. Surely this wasn’t his first time cooking. He smiled blandly at her, disclosing nothing.
Lastly, she moved to Tamaki’s dish. She eyed it warily and then at Tamaki’s beaming expression, full of pride at having made his first commoner’s dish. “Try it, Haruhi, try it!” he said excitedly. He smoothed down his apron and flicked his hair, gazing off into the distance as he struck a seductive pose. “My delicious meal will stun you,” he proclaimed, “because it is cooked with the love of a prince.”
Haruhi blinked at him. “It’s not a meal. It’s just one dish.” She blinked again when he sunk into a gloom, slightly startled before shrugging it off and reaching to try a bite. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “It’s a little bit burnt,” she said, looking surprised at herself as she continued, “but otherwise it’s quite excellent. Good job, senpai.” Who knew the melodramatic King could have pulled it off?
Roses bloomed as Tamaki’s face brightened considerably, bouncing to his feet. “Oh Haruhi! Do you really think so?” He beamed. “But of course! The prince could do no less for his fair lady! He put his heart and all his love into the food and it has shown—“
Kyouya was by nature subtle and mercenary, undeniably so. He was also, don’t forget, manipulative. Standing at the end of what could be perceived as a line, he calmly elbowed Mori, who, startled, tumbled into Honey, who crashed into Kaoru’s legs. Kaoru fell onto Hikaru, who stuck out an arm to brace himself and ended up shoving Haruhi in the back, pushing her forward into Tamaki.
Their breaths whooshed past each other, skimming along the other’s cheek, as their chests collided awkwardly. Tamaki’s lips brushed Haruhi’s hair as she ducked her head at the impact, his eyes wide.
Kyouya observed this domino effect with a smile.
Tamaki’s hand came up to Haruhi’s face, fingers pressing gently into her skin as he asked, softly, if she was all right. His face was taking on a tinge of pink that matched rather well with the blush emerging on Haruhi’s.
“I-I’m fine,” she stammered, not pulling away immediately.
How far they’ve come, Kyouya thought, and fished behind him for the notebook lying open on the counter. He flipped open to a blank page and began writing as Haruhi shoved Tamaki away, turning to berate the twins.
--
Started/Finished: 05.17.2006
Notes: Er, I got inspired while making dinner? Plus, Kyouya love. And...that's all I've really got to say. Happy Birthday, Swiss! I hope you liked it.
Ouran Koko Host Club, PG, Tamaki/Haruhi, 1750 words
Haruhi teaches the Host Club how to cook.
For my darling
wakkawoo on her 18th birthday. ♥!Stir For Two Minutes
by
meitachiKyouya was by nature subtle, manipulative, and ruthlessly mercenary. Without him, the host club would’ve have fallen flat on its first attempt—while the lure of attractive boys was a temptation not to be belittled, the additional fantasy and luxury supplied by Kyouya’s exactingly siphoned funds proved to be the final irresistible touch to make the club a success. Tamaki professed every few days how terribly lost they’d all be without their vice president.
Even he was never privy to the full extent of Kyouya’s machinations and, instead, often fell prey to them unawares.
“One of a girl’s dearest dreams,” Kyouya murmured, tapping his pen against the notebook, “is for an extravagant candlelit dinner, full of roses, soft music, and romance.”
Tamaki smiled, eyes half-lidded. “But of course,” he said, twirling a rose between his fingers. “Every girl wants to feel like a princess. And we, their princes, shall provide!” He waved his arm broadly, gesturing at the mostly empty room, devoid of giggling girls now that the host club had concluded its business for the day.
Kyouya’s eyes disappeared behind the flash of light glinting off his glasses. His smile was quite visible, however. “An extravagant dinner cooked for her by her prince,” he elaborated.
Haruhi was bracing herself even before the thought processed in Tamaki’s head. She flinched when he leaped to his feet, eyes bright. “Oh! Cooking!” he exclaimed. “That’s certainly a commoner’s chore, isn’t it? Oh, Haruhi, Haruhi!” He rounded on her, hands clutching at her arms eagerly. “You’ll teach us how to cook the way commoners do, won’t you? We’ll all learn to make a magnificent feast that will win over any princess!”
“Um,” said Haruhi, looking dismayed. Teach this lot of spoiled, rich boys how to cook? If she had ever been presented an impossible task, this would be it.
“Oh, oh! Honey wants to learn!” A head of golden locks bobbed up to her side, Honey’s eyes wide and eager. “Haru-chan, will you teach me?” She blinked at him, at a loss for words. “Takashi, Takashi! You want to learn too, right?” Honey had bounced over to Mori and was clambering into his lap, chattering excitedly.
“Eh,” said Kaoru, eyeing Hikaru and then looking at Haruhi. He slung an arm around his twin. “Cooking, huh?”
Hikaru cocked an eyebrow. “Haruhi will wear an apron, won’t she? Ehhh?” He and Kaoru leered.
“Oh, ohhh!” wailed Tamaki, dropping Haruhi’s arms to clasp his hands together in joy. Tears sprang to his eyes as he sunk to his knees in front of her chair. “Haruhi, in a delicate, frilly pink apron, looking so dainty and feminine as she teaches us how to cook a delicious feast. How beautiful!”
Haruhi twitched. She didn’t think she owned anything pink and frilly, much less an apron. “Senpai,” she said, clenching her hands. “I don’t think—” this is possible, she meant to say, before a low, amused voice interrupted her.
“I’ll take ten thousand off your debt.” Kyouya smiled at her wide-eyed expression.
”I—I’ll do it,” she said in a faint voice, wondering exactly what she’d gotten herself into.
--
Even Ouran Academy’s Home Ec room was crowded with seven students, all clad in standard-issue, no-frills white aprons. (Tamaki had sunk into a brief depression at the sight, muttering a soliloquy under his breath.) Haruhi had been adamant that none of them would be going to her house to learn to cook because there wasn’t enough room and, frankly, she didn’t want them there. (Another tearful outburst from Tamaki had ensued.) She would teach them all to cook a basic dish of stir-fry tomatoes and eggs. She really didn’t want to risk meat yet.
“What’s this?” the twins asked in unison, each holding up a metal whisk.
“How do you open the eggs, Haru-chan?” Honey asked, banging an egg around. He cracked it open on the edge of the counter and stared in shock at the ooze that covered his hands. “Waaaah!” he cried.
“We’ll need flour of course,” declared Tamaki, pulling out a bag and dumping it on the counter. “Some butter and almonds and potatoes and green peppers and ground pork.” He had been determined to come into the lesson well-prepared and impress Haruhi with what a wonderful student he was. Unfortunately, he had flipped through a sticky cookbook and had collected half his ingredients from an almond cookie recipe and the other half from a shepherd’s pie.
“En garde!” shouted Hikaru, lunging at Karou with his with his whisk brandished.
“Takashi, help!” cried Honey, trailing sticky egg residue across the counter.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Haruhi yelled, hair sticking out in a frazzled mess. She put her head in her hands for a moment and wondered why she had agreed to this. Where had her sanity gone? Looking up again, she saw Kyouya and Mori standing calmly next to their respective stoves, ignoring all the chaos. Kyouya was scribbling away in his notebook, as usual, and Mori was surveying the others with a stoic expression. Oh, right. Blackmail.
“Stop fighting!” she ordered Hikaru and Kaoru, “or I won’t let you try my cooking.” They stopped immediately, tossing the whisks behind their back into the sink and pretending they’d never had them. “Here, Honey-senpai.” She handed Honey a damp rag and wiped his hand off, scooping the remains of the egg and its shell into the trash. “And Tamaki-senpai!” she shouted in exasperation, “We won’t be using any of that. Please just stand still and pay attention!”
Tamaki looked abashed momentarily. Then his lower lip trembled. “Oh Haruhi-chan, you are so commanding!” He clasped her in a quick embrace.
“Off!” She shoved him back and glared at him. “Now everyone, behave. And watch what I do closely.” Rolling up her sleeves, she set about washing her two tomatoes carefully under cold water. “Just rinse the tomatoes under cold water,” she told the boys, “and then get out your cutting board and knife. After we dice the tomatoes, we’ll beat the eggs and—“
“Haruhi,” the twins said, “what’s the cutting board look like?”
“Oh for God’s sake,” she said and went to help them. Then Tamaki demanded her attention because he didn’t know which knife to use. Further problems ensued down the line as Honey attacked his eggs the way he attacked the tea during tea ceremonies and lost half of the bowl to the counter. No one was quite sure what “dicing” entailed either, but Mori seemed to have the best grasp of it after Haruhi’s demonstration. The lesson further derailed when the twins discovered the cabinet full of various spices and took it upon themselves to add as many as they could to their eggs before Haruhi caught them and made them start over.
All in all, it was a very interesting experience, Haruhi reflected as she surveyed the seven plates of egg-and-tomato on the counter. Six pairs of eyes watched her as she went down the line and gave each a taste.
Hers was fine, of course, but this was a basic dish she’d been making since she was nine. “Mori-senpai’s is very good,” she said with a smile. She wasn’t entirely surprised as he had been a very diligent worker. Silent but good at following instructions.
“Yay, Takashi!” Honey exclaimed, giving his friend a hug.
Haruhi nearly choked on Hikaru and Kaoru’s dishes. “You weren’t supposed to put chili powder,” she told them after Tamaki rushed to hand her a glass of water. She coughed.
“But we like spicy food,” they told her, grinning.
She just looked at them and rather thought they’d done it on purpose. She moved on, taking a bite of Honey’s slightly undercooked eggs and tomatoes. “It’s—very sweet,” she said at last. “You probably shouldn’t put so much sugar in it, Honey-senpai, but otherwise it’s very good,” she added hastily as wide eyes grew wider. Honey broke out into a smile at her words.
“Kyouya-senpai’s is also very good.” Haruhi glanced at their vice-president suspiciously. His dish, in fact, might be better than hers. Surely this wasn’t his first time cooking. He smiled blandly at her, disclosing nothing.
Lastly, she moved to Tamaki’s dish. She eyed it warily and then at Tamaki’s beaming expression, full of pride at having made his first commoner’s dish. “Try it, Haruhi, try it!” he said excitedly. He smoothed down his apron and flicked his hair, gazing off into the distance as he struck a seductive pose. “My delicious meal will stun you,” he proclaimed, “because it is cooked with the love of a prince.”
Haruhi blinked at him. “It’s not a meal. It’s just one dish.” She blinked again when he sunk into a gloom, slightly startled before shrugging it off and reaching to try a bite. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “It’s a little bit burnt,” she said, looking surprised at herself as she continued, “but otherwise it’s quite excellent. Good job, senpai.” Who knew the melodramatic King could have pulled it off?
Roses bloomed as Tamaki’s face brightened considerably, bouncing to his feet. “Oh Haruhi! Do you really think so?” He beamed. “But of course! The prince could do no less for his fair lady! He put his heart and all his love into the food and it has shown—“
Kyouya was by nature subtle and mercenary, undeniably so. He was also, don’t forget, manipulative. Standing at the end of what could be perceived as a line, he calmly elbowed Mori, who, startled, tumbled into Honey, who crashed into Kaoru’s legs. Kaoru fell onto Hikaru, who stuck out an arm to brace himself and ended up shoving Haruhi in the back, pushing her forward into Tamaki.
Their breaths whooshed past each other, skimming along the other’s cheek, as their chests collided awkwardly. Tamaki’s lips brushed Haruhi’s hair as she ducked her head at the impact, his eyes wide.
Kyouya observed this domino effect with a smile.
Tamaki’s hand came up to Haruhi’s face, fingers pressing gently into her skin as he asked, softly, if she was all right. His face was taking on a tinge of pink that matched rather well with the blush emerging on Haruhi’s.
“I-I’m fine,” she stammered, not pulling away immediately.
How far they’ve come, Kyouya thought, and fished behind him for the notebook lying open on the counter. He flipped open to a blank page and began writing as Haruhi shoved Tamaki away, turning to berate the twins.
--
Started/Finished: 05.17.2006
Notes: Er, I got inspired while making dinner? Plus, Kyouya love. And...that's all I've really got to say. Happy Birthday, Swiss! I hope you liked it.
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