[OKHC] Cyclic, PG, Humor, Kyouya/Tamaki
Jun. 2nd, 2006 11:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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chineseinkCyclic
Ouran Koko Host Club, Kyouya/Tamaki, PG, 1147 words
Tamaki wants to know what Kyouya and Haruhi are talking about.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
7snogs theme #2: jealousy.
Also for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
svz_insanity, who needs a little cheering up, and because I love her.
Cyclic
bymeitachi
“What are they talking about?” Tamaki was sulking, dark gaze directed towards the other side of the music room where Haruhi was having an intense, if slightly awkward, conversation with their bespectacled vice-president. “He should stop manipulating all her time!”
“Who knows?” The twins shrugged in tandem, exchanging puzzled glances. They were seated side-by-side in two identical chairs facing Haruhi and Kyouya. Tamaki had draped himself over the sofa, arms resting on the back as he peered dejectedly across the room. Even his hair seemed to be drooping along with his shoulders.
“Why won’t she talk to Daddy?” he wailed. “I just wanted to help!”
Haruhi had been bluntly cold to him earlier, after all the customers had left, more so than usual. Her response to his daily—hourly—hug had been a shove and a glare, and he’d received a short, “It’s none of your business, Senpai,” when he’d asked in concern what was wrong. Mori had had to pick Honey off the ground for fear he would drown in the flood of tears Tamaki had poured out loudly in the corner.
Kyouya had steered her away from the others, pulling her into a seat at the table where they were now discussing something—some sordid scheme, Tamaki was sure, about how to make his life miserable because Kyouya was such a bad, bad influence on his precious little Haruhi—in quiet voices. Tamaki leaned further over the back of the sofa, straining his ear towards them.
“Tono,” said the twins, barely grinning, just as he toppled over in an inelegant tangle of limbs.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, and Haruhi glanced over. She made something like a face of disgust that shot arrows straight through his heart before looking away disinterestedly. Tamaki was limp and dejected as Mori picked him off the ground and disentangled him from himself.
“Tama-chan,” Honey said, petting his knee. “Don’t be sad. I’m sure Haru-chan is just having a bad day!”
Tamaki sniffled.
“Or maybe,” offered Hikaru, propping his chin up on a fist.
“She just hates you,” finished Kaoru, raising an eyebrow.
“Takashi! Help!” cried Honey as Tamaki withered at the twins’ words and started sobbing all over the third-year beside him. Quietly, Mori reached in a hand and freed Honey, slipping a tasseled silk pillow into Tamaki’s arms in his stead.
“If the girls could see their prince now,” said a cool voice from behind him, “we would lose a lot of customers.” Kyouya met Tamaki’s red, wet eyes with an unreadable look. Tamaki knew him well enough to interpret it anyway. I’ll let it go for now because it’s after hours, but you had better mind yourself when we have customers.
Sometimes Tamaki wondered if he was really president of the host club.
“Kyouya,” he whined, “what were you and Haruhi talking about?” He shot Haruhi, who was standing beside Kyouya with an equally inscrutable expression on her face, a deeply wounded look. “It’s not nice to keep things from Daddy!”
“I’ve already told you, Senpai, I don’t need two fathers.” Haruhi’s voice was flat and merciless. Her eyes took on a rather annoyed gleam.
“Now, now, Haruhi,” murmured Kyouya, stepping closer to the sofa and sliding a hand over Tamaki’s hair, petting gently. “Be kind. Our prince has a fragile soul, you know.” A smile flitted briefly across his face at the muffled snorts coming from four throats, and the small giggle escaping Honey. “Why don’t you go avail yourself of the services of our Special Male Student nurse? I’ve already informed her of the circumstances.”
Tamaki turned under Kyouya’s hand, which was resting atop Tamaki’s head and fingers threaded loosely through golden locks. He blinked. “What circumstances?” he questioned, eyes dark and concerned. “Haruhi. What’s the matter?” He gave Kyouya a sharp look when a red flush crept slowly over Haruhi’s face. “Kyouya.”
“I’ll tell you later, president,” Kyouya said softly, not looking at him.
“It’s nothing. And I don’t need to see the nurse, I already told you that, Kyouya-senpai.” Haruhi was undoubtedly blushing.
Hikaru and Karou were interested in this development. “Oh?” the said, tilting their heads in unison, curious glint in their eyes. They rose to their feet and danced toward her, passing a wide-eyed Honey who was sitting in Mori’s lap and watching avidly, biting one of Usa-chan’s ears. “Let’s play a game!” the twins said devilishly, “we can—“
“No,” said Kyouya. The look he directed at the twins through his glasses made them stop in their tracks.
“Kyouya!” Tamaki was frowning.
“I’m fine!” insisted Haruhi, twisting her fingers into the hem of her uniform jacket.
“Haru-chan?” Honey’s voice was concerned.
“Haruhi!” Tamaki had risen to his feet, Kyouya’s hand sliding away, and he rounded the edge of the sofa now to grab Haruhi’s shoulders. “What’s the matter?” he demanded. “You promised not to do anything dangerous anymore! Why do you need to see the nurse? Are you sick? Injured?” His voice was starting to take on a note of panic.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses. “Go, Haruhi.” His voice brooked no argument. “You know as well as I that if this continues, your number of customers will decrease, thus lowering our net profit. It will only increase the amount of time it takes you to repay your debt as well,” he added.
Haruhi bit her lip and, slowly, nodded. She pushed Tamaki away. “I— Don’t worry, senpai,” she finally said as she made her way to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the other members. “I’m really fine.” A brief smile and she left.
“Kyouya!” Tamaki rounded on the only one who knew what was going on. He looked a little wild.
“This is a delicate matter,” Kyouya said, flipping open his notebook. “I won’t compromise her privacy.”
And that was that.
Except, later that night, Tamaki was sprawled boneless over the bed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his back. His head rested in his folded arms as he lay on his stomach, recovering his breath. “Kyouya,” he said, “what was going on with Haruhi today?”
Kyouya’s eyes were sharper and brighter without his glasses and the curl of his smirk was more pronounced. “You're not easily distracted, I see. I feel like I should be offended that you’re still thinking about her after all that.” He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the pillows, his bare torso gleaming with lamplight.
Tamaki blew out a breath. “Don’t be an idiot, Kyouya.” He shifted and propped himself up with an arm, wrapping the other around Kyouya’s neck and dragging him down for a kiss. “It’s different,” he said against Kyouya’s mouth. “Please.”
A slight chuckle. “She was ill-tempered, Tamaki, because it was the first day of her menstrual cycle and she had cramps.”
Tamaki paled. His mind ground slowly to a halt.
There were some things a father just did not want to know about his daughter.
--
Started/Finished: 06.02.2006
Edited: 06.03.2006
--
Notes: It had to be done, it had to be done, it had to be done! ::runs::
Ouran Koko Host Club, Kyouya/Tamaki, PG, 1147 words
Tamaki wants to know what Kyouya and Haruhi are talking about.
For
7snogs theme #2: jealousy.Also for
svz_insanity, who needs a little cheering up, and because I love her.Cyclic
by
meitachi“What are they talking about?” Tamaki was sulking, dark gaze directed towards the other side of the music room where Haruhi was having an intense, if slightly awkward, conversation with their bespectacled vice-president. “He should stop manipulating all her time!”
“Who knows?” The twins shrugged in tandem, exchanging puzzled glances. They were seated side-by-side in two identical chairs facing Haruhi and Kyouya. Tamaki had draped himself over the sofa, arms resting on the back as he peered dejectedly across the room. Even his hair seemed to be drooping along with his shoulders.
“Why won’t she talk to Daddy?” he wailed. “I just wanted to help!”
Haruhi had been bluntly cold to him earlier, after all the customers had left, more so than usual. Her response to his daily—hourly—hug had been a shove and a glare, and he’d received a short, “It’s none of your business, Senpai,” when he’d asked in concern what was wrong. Mori had had to pick Honey off the ground for fear he would drown in the flood of tears Tamaki had poured out loudly in the corner.
Kyouya had steered her away from the others, pulling her into a seat at the table where they were now discussing something—some sordid scheme, Tamaki was sure, about how to make his life miserable because Kyouya was such a bad, bad influence on his precious little Haruhi—in quiet voices. Tamaki leaned further over the back of the sofa, straining his ear towards them.
“Tono,” said the twins, barely grinning, just as he toppled over in an inelegant tangle of limbs.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, and Haruhi glanced over. She made something like a face of disgust that shot arrows straight through his heart before looking away disinterestedly. Tamaki was limp and dejected as Mori picked him off the ground and disentangled him from himself.
“Tama-chan,” Honey said, petting his knee. “Don’t be sad. I’m sure Haru-chan is just having a bad day!”
Tamaki sniffled.
“Or maybe,” offered Hikaru, propping his chin up on a fist.
“She just hates you,” finished Kaoru, raising an eyebrow.
“Takashi! Help!” cried Honey as Tamaki withered at the twins’ words and started sobbing all over the third-year beside him. Quietly, Mori reached in a hand and freed Honey, slipping a tasseled silk pillow into Tamaki’s arms in his stead.
“If the girls could see their prince now,” said a cool voice from behind him, “we would lose a lot of customers.” Kyouya met Tamaki’s red, wet eyes with an unreadable look. Tamaki knew him well enough to interpret it anyway. I’ll let it go for now because it’s after hours, but you had better mind yourself when we have customers.
Sometimes Tamaki wondered if he was really president of the host club.
“Kyouya,” he whined, “what were you and Haruhi talking about?” He shot Haruhi, who was standing beside Kyouya with an equally inscrutable expression on her face, a deeply wounded look. “It’s not nice to keep things from Daddy!”
“I’ve already told you, Senpai, I don’t need two fathers.” Haruhi’s voice was flat and merciless. Her eyes took on a rather annoyed gleam.
“Now, now, Haruhi,” murmured Kyouya, stepping closer to the sofa and sliding a hand over Tamaki’s hair, petting gently. “Be kind. Our prince has a fragile soul, you know.” A smile flitted briefly across his face at the muffled snorts coming from four throats, and the small giggle escaping Honey. “Why don’t you go avail yourself of the services of our Special Male Student nurse? I’ve already informed her of the circumstances.”
Tamaki turned under Kyouya’s hand, which was resting atop Tamaki’s head and fingers threaded loosely through golden locks. He blinked. “What circumstances?” he questioned, eyes dark and concerned. “Haruhi. What’s the matter?” He gave Kyouya a sharp look when a red flush crept slowly over Haruhi’s face. “Kyouya.”
“I’ll tell you later, president,” Kyouya said softly, not looking at him.
“It’s nothing. And I don’t need to see the nurse, I already told you that, Kyouya-senpai.” Haruhi was undoubtedly blushing.
Hikaru and Karou were interested in this development. “Oh?” the said, tilting their heads in unison, curious glint in their eyes. They rose to their feet and danced toward her, passing a wide-eyed Honey who was sitting in Mori’s lap and watching avidly, biting one of Usa-chan’s ears. “Let’s play a game!” the twins said devilishly, “we can—“
“No,” said Kyouya. The look he directed at the twins through his glasses made them stop in their tracks.
“Kyouya!” Tamaki was frowning.
“I’m fine!” insisted Haruhi, twisting her fingers into the hem of her uniform jacket.
“Haru-chan?” Honey’s voice was concerned.
“Haruhi!” Tamaki had risen to his feet, Kyouya’s hand sliding away, and he rounded the edge of the sofa now to grab Haruhi’s shoulders. “What’s the matter?” he demanded. “You promised not to do anything dangerous anymore! Why do you need to see the nurse? Are you sick? Injured?” His voice was starting to take on a note of panic.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses. “Go, Haruhi.” His voice brooked no argument. “You know as well as I that if this continues, your number of customers will decrease, thus lowering our net profit. It will only increase the amount of time it takes you to repay your debt as well,” he added.
Haruhi bit her lip and, slowly, nodded. She pushed Tamaki away. “I— Don’t worry, senpai,” she finally said as she made her way to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the other members. “I’m really fine.” A brief smile and she left.
“Kyouya!” Tamaki rounded on the only one who knew what was going on. He looked a little wild.
“This is a delicate matter,” Kyouya said, flipping open his notebook. “I won’t compromise her privacy.”
And that was that.
Except, later that night, Tamaki was sprawled boneless over the bed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his back. His head rested in his folded arms as he lay on his stomach, recovering his breath. “Kyouya,” he said, “what was going on with Haruhi today?”
Kyouya’s eyes were sharper and brighter without his glasses and the curl of his smirk was more pronounced. “You're not easily distracted, I see. I feel like I should be offended that you’re still thinking about her after all that.” He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the pillows, his bare torso gleaming with lamplight.
Tamaki blew out a breath. “Don’t be an idiot, Kyouya.” He shifted and propped himself up with an arm, wrapping the other around Kyouya’s neck and dragging him down for a kiss. “It’s different,” he said against Kyouya’s mouth. “Please.”
A slight chuckle. “She was ill-tempered, Tamaki, because it was the first day of her menstrual cycle and she had cramps.”
Tamaki paled. His mind ground slowly to a halt.
There were some things a father just did not want to know about his daughter.
--
Started/Finished: 06.02.2006
Edited: 06.03.2006
--
Notes: It had to be done, it had to be done, it had to be done! ::runs::
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