A/N: Written for Schermionie's "5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 fandoms" challenge on the HPFC. Expect seven more posts from me regarding this challenge. The briefest mention of Mori/Hunny, if you squint.
Mori didn't mind being a host. It's fun, being a glorified people-watcher. With the heart of a romantic and the mind of a realist, Mori considers himself a pretty good guy and an even better listener.
Girls who decided to visit him seemed few and far between, but those who did visit him were genuinely sweet girls. These girls were pretty enough, he supposed. But none interested him enough to keep them close to heart. They talked mostly of themselves, of their sorrows and their heartaches and their worries. These things never truly bothered Mori, because he knew he couldn't say much back to them that would help. He doubted these girls minded that he never said much. Instead, he offered himself as an unbiased third party to an girl who wanted to vent.
"Your silence is your charm," they would all say of Mori's lack of talking. That small sentence would make Mori smile. It was nice to be appreciated, even for a brief moment.
Something he noticed was the fact that all of these girls had a common theme in their venting sessions: love. He didn't think of how it applied to himself all that often. Mori did know that there were different types (for a lack of a different, more descriptive term) of love, though.
There was the type of love Haruhi and Tamaki had for each other. They'd act like oblivious idiots, never with a care in the world. Haruhi's blunt realism clashed with Tamaki's naive optimism, and they'd probably never have it any other way. Hikaru and Kaoru had each other, their hearts too intertwined with each other's hearts and pranking that they'd probably have no room for anyone else. Kyouya had this idea that all the students of Ouran would listen to him if he was calculating enough. His "charms" only seemed to deeply affect those in the Host Club. Mori'd never know how Kyouya felt about the Host Club, and Mori was fine with that.
But what of himself?
He loved Hunny with the ferocity of a mother bear, but he was sure that his love was that of a familial kind and nothing more. Mori wondered briefly what would happen if he were to date Hunny, the young man who had the enthusiasm of a child. Nothing would change, probably. Mori'd still be the protector, the caretaker. Hunny'd still be the one who eased away tension with excitement and cake.
Mori wouldn't have it any other way, really. He was a glorified people watcher disguised as a Host who listened better than he talked and there was no reason to change.