Title: Like Painting Pictures

Series: Ouran High School Host Club

Rating: K+ (for shounen-ai and twincest hints)

Pairing: Hikaru x Kaoru (mainly one-sided)

Summary: And the whole time, Hikaru didn't know that Kaoru wasn't really pretending.

Author's notes: I wrote this story while I was on vacation, without a computer, so it's not very long and the grammar - I apologize - isn't the best, I'm sure. I wanted to write a fan fiction about the twins, and I settled on this concept. It can be taken as one-sided or two-sided twincest - it depends on your view of what happens at the end. Please leave a review - and as this is my first Ouran fanfic, constructive criticism is great.

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They'd cuddled together, bodies as close to each other without melding together as was possible, held hands, palm to palm, slender fingers entwined, all the while whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears with voices filled with passion, entirely for the sake of entertaining the women who visited the Host Club just to see their false foreplay. Hikaru had held Kaoru in his arms, brushing their chests together, lips nearly touching, and had laughed about it jokingly with the rest of the club when the women had all left. It had never bothered them that women thought of them as passionate lovers engaging in explicitly forbidden love, because they knew that none of it was real, or at least, Hikaru thought it wasn't. he never saw the pained look on his brother's face when they pulled out of a particularly romantic position, never noticed how the tears that fell from the falsely hurt face of his twin weren't entirely fake. How, when they pretended to be in love, Kaoru's acting seemed a bit too real. And all the while, Hikaru didn't know that Kaoru wasn't really pretending.

It was like a picture was being painted of their lives, swirling the colors of their present with the faded monotone shades of their past. When the twins were together, the colored brightened, masking the faded corners of an otherwise perfect canvas. But when they were apart - as it mostly, these days - a sickly shade of grey painted over the smooth picture, obscuring the beautiful parts. Hikaru never noticed these changes, how his hands were unintentionally looser than usual when they held his twin, how his reaction time when catching his other half was considerably greater, so that he just barely caught Kaoru before he hit the ground. It was a natural thing that they should gradually fall apart, but yet it was sad all the same. It could have been that the two were aging, and romantic games were much less fun as of late, once they realized what exactly their movements could mean and became embarrassed about giving people the wrong idea. Kaoru had seen it too, just how distant his brother had become to him; he seemed to be pulling away more and more each day, creating a barrier between them that Kaoru just couldn't break through. He wondered why this was; how could someone he loved so much push him away so harshly?

Another problem faced Kaoru squarely just as they entered their second year in high school: he wanted something very badly that he knew he could never obtain. It wasn't as though the picture had torn yet, but a considerable crease had sent ripples across the painting as he thought of this thing - this person - he wanted with all his heart. And he thought of them every day and every night. It wasn't as if he'd had a choice, since he saw this person all the time, but that was the part that hut the most. The painting was breaking and repairing itself so quickly that eventually it couldn't do it any longer, and just stayed broken.

And one day, Kaoru couldn't take any more, and he told his twin that he wouldn't pretend to be in love with him any longer just for the fans.

Because I'm not pretending.

And Hikaru had turned away, said 'that's okay,' and left before Kaoru had a chance to tell him what he'd meant.

And slowly, cracks were appearing, one by one, on the painting's surface. Their perfect picture was breaking.

By their third year in high school the twins were almost entirely separated, and the painting that had once been so bright, wonderful, perfect, was now torn, obscured with blotches of dark colors, and thrown into the farthest corners of their minds.

People fall apart.

Yes, but can't they come back together again, too?

Kaoru had seen his brother in class and in the Host Club more than a few times - though they no longer took customers together - and because they lived together, it was difficult for them to ignore each other completely. Hikaru, it seemed, had moved on, something Kaoru couldn't say about himself. He still yearned for his other half - his heart ached for the one he loved most every day. And it hurt knowing the person he loved - was in love with - obviously didn't feel the same way about him.

And then there came a day when the painting was taken out again, out of its dark corner and into the light. And Kaoru, as he looked at its lucrid beauty and its faded appearance, thought of a time when the colors had been brilliant, the canvas bright and new. Even if he couldn't have more, he wanted what he'd had once - that sense of security and love that had once made his heart throb. And he was determined to get that back.

He met Hikaru in the halls one mid-semester day; though the two were identical twins, their appearances had changed over their time apart, since they no longer copied one another's styles. Kaoru had let his hair grow out longer, and he no longer cared just how it looked. But he still kept the style he'd had when he'd first arrived with the Host Club, where his hair was swept to one side. And Hikaru, it seemed - surprisingly enough - had, although with shorter hair, done the same.

And thus, one of the cracks was filled.

Kaoru told his brother they needed to talk, and Hikaru had complied. Another crack in the painting was mended, as were several more as the boys began talking.

Kaoru had told his brother how much he missed him - needed him, without actually confessing his true feelings. All he'd ever wanted was his brother's love - not just brotherly love - and in the process of seeking it out had lost his brother.

By the time they'd finished talking Kaoru was in tears - for a reason he himself didn't know - and Hikaru, seeing this, finally understood just how much his brother still needed him. And, just like it had been so many years ago, Hikaru pulled his brother close, bodies pressed against each other - even without the presence of ladies to entertain - and gently wiped away his tears, whispering soothing words into ears that had waited years to hear what he had to say.

And as the twins walked away, hand in hand, a blank stretch of canvas - clean, neat, perfect - ahead of them, the two resolved to make new memories.

And so, together, the Hitachiin brothers both picked up brushes and set to work on a new painting.

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