The Package The Twins Opened

Author's Note: Okay, just so we're clear – I have never read the manga of Ouran High School Host Club, I have only seen (and loved) the anime. This is set after the anime concludes, when – in my mind – Haruhi and Tamaki have finally gotten it together (even though I'll always ship Tamaki x Kyouya). Dedicated to Jinty, Kirsty and Sophie and their love of those damn attractive Ouran boys!

P.S. For those of you not in the know (and suffering for it), the title is homage to one of my favourite Ouran episodes – The Door The Twins Opened.

Hikaru and Kaoru – the Hitachiin twins. It's always been the two of us, right from the beginning. We never needed anyone else. Why would we, when we always had each other? We always knew what the other was thinking or feeling when nobody else did, and we were always there for each other when one of us was upset or angry. Hikaru, mostly. He's always been the more emotional and hot-headed one, ever since we were little kids. I was always the one who had to pick up the pieces and soothe him back to composure. In many ways, I still am.

But things are different now. They've been different for some time. Ever since Haruhi opened the door.

I like Haruhi – really I do. She's cute, despite her tomboyish appearance, and she really does care for all of us like we're her big brothers. Well, all except Tamaki. I should think by now she sees him as more than just a friend and sempai after everything that's happened in the past year. I think it was that whole affair with Éclair Tonnerre that made her realise her true feelings for him. I'd long since suspected that her feelings for him ran deeper than first thought, and it was painfully obvious to all of us – besides, unsurprisingly, the two lovebirds themselves – how Tamaki felt about her. You could tell just from a glance of the looks he gave her during those hours spent in Music Room 3. I sometimes wonder if his feelings would have evolved into what they are now if he had never discovered her real gender. Would he still love her as much as he does?

Would Hikaru?

He's never told me outright exactly how he feels about Haruhi, but I know. The way he smiles when she talks to him, the way his eyes always stray in her direction when we're in class or entertaining at the Host Club, the way her name pops up every ten minutes whenever we have a conversation. I know it shouldn't bother me as much as it does, but I can't help feeling nothing short of resentment towards her whenever he mentions her. Anybody else might just put it down to jealousy as his brother. Of course it would be natural for a brother to want his twin all to himself. We're practically two halves of the same person, after all. Two halves of a whole idiot, as Haruhi would put it.

But I know better. I've known better for years now.

It doesn't bother me – how I feel about Hikaru. I've always been a laid-back sort of guy, and since I've always known I was gay, I just accepted this as another part of me. The fact that I, Kaoru Hitachiin, am in love with my twin brother, Hikaru. It looks worse on paper, I suppose, but there's nothing I can do about it. Lord knows, I've tried. I've tried fantasizing about other boys – any boys, even Honey-sempai – but it's no use, Hikaru always manages to slip in there at the last minute. Now, whenever I'm making use of any alone time I have at home, it's his face that appears in my mind when I come. Thinking about it, it's probably just as well I didn't develop a thing for Honey-sempai, as I'm pretty sure Mori-sempai would have opened his mouth to say more than two words about it. Two words and a stony death-glare, no doubt.

Considering I used to have a sizable crush on Kyouya-sempai when we first joined the Host Club, you would have thought it would be easy to envision him at the moment of climax, but it's always Hikaru. Tamaki-sempai is out of the question, obviously. Not just because he and Haruhi were bound to be together from the beginning, but because he's such a goofball I could never take him seriously, no matter how handsome he may be.

No, it's always Hikaru. It has to be Hikaru.

"What's the matter, Kaoru?"

I blink and draw myself out of my thoughts. Haruhi is standing beside me, a concerned look on her face. I force myself to smile, even though she's the last person I want to speak to right now, especially as Hikaru is staring avidly over at us.

"Oh, nothing," I say as cheerily as I can. "Aren't you meant to be trying on some new outfit for the Boss?"

"Don't remind me," she rolls her large brown eyes. "It's this new theme he's come up with – butlers and maids."

"Sounds like him," I say, getting to my feet from the armchair I'm seated in. "Well, I'll be seeing you, Haruhi."

"Where're you going?" she asks, clearly worried. Bless her. I moan about her enough to myself for being the object of Hikaru's affections, but she's always there for me. For all of us.

"Just to the bathroom," I say. In truth, I just want a moment alone before the first guests begin to arrive. I find an empty classroom and sit down in a chair by the window, staring out at the courtyard. Hikaru and I used to sit on the fountain in our last school's courtyard a lot when we were in middle school. It was where Tamaki-sempai first approached us about about joining the Host Club. At the time, we just brushed him off as an idiot – turns out we were right – and challenged him to the 'Which One Is Hikaru?' game. Those were the days when we used to mess around with the girls who confessed their love for us. Either of us. We were so cruel to them back then, with our twisted sense of humour. I've lost count of the number of girls we made cry. But then again, I've also lost count of the number we've made smile during our time spent at the Host Club. It's a much better feeling, I can tell you. To this day I'm not sure exactly why making the girls cry seemed like so much fun back then. Maybe it was because, deep down, we were both so bored and unhappy that we could only express it through hurting others. Textbook case. Despite our jubilation at being continuously victorious in the 'Which One Is Hikaru?' game, I think secretly we actually wanted someone to be able to tell us apart. To tell us that we didn't always have to be joined at the hip – forever in each other's pockets. We wanted to anyway, but it was nice to know we had the choice. I think that's what attracted Hikaru to Haruhi in the first place – that day she managed to tell us apart with no trouble at all, telling us that, although we looked the same, we were actually very different in our own unique personalities.

"You're going to be late." Kyouya-sempai's collected voice always makes me feel like I've done something wrong.

"I'm coming," I say, rising to my feet. I hear his footsteps nearing me across the classroom floor.

"You know, counselling isn't really my thing," he says. "But I can tell something's bothering you."

I sigh. Kyouya's another one who can always see through people, no matter what barriers they may put up around their feelings. "It's nothing," I insist. "Nothing anyone can help with, anyway."

"You think so?" He adjusts his glasses with his middle and forefinger, the lenses flashing. "You should try opening up to people more, Kaoru. People besides Hikaru, I mean."

"I can't talk to Hikaru," I blurt out. Part of me is glad Kyouya's here, offering to listen. He's probably just worried my suppressed feelings might affect my Host duties, but at least he's pretending to be concerned. "Not when it matters."

"I'm sure Hikaru would accept whatever it is you have on your mind," Kyouya says, opening his notebook and jotting something down. What does he always write in there, I wonder . . .

"Not this time." I close my eyes and sigh deeply before turning and walking out of the classroom.

"Kaoru?" Kyouya says as I reach the door, my fingers resting on the handle. "Why don't you try talking to Hikaru?"

"You think?" I snort, more bitterly than I intended.

"Yes," he says coolly. "You never know, things might work out better than you expect."

"Whatever you say, Sempai," I shake my head, closing the door behind me as I leave.

I manage to keep my composure for almost the whole duration of that afternoon. Me and Hikaru entertain our guests with as much panache and 'brotherly love' as we normally do. Renge has had us vamping up the whole 'twincest' scene even more than usual lately, insisting that it's the exact thing to attract even more customers. It certainly seems to work – Renge sure does know her fangirls, which is to be expected from the Otaku Queen herself. There's a small crowd gathered around us when I 'trip' and Hikaru is forced to catch me, pleading with me to watch where I step in case I hurt myself.

"I'm sorry, Hikaru," I murmur with as much uke-innocence as I can. "I'm just so clumsy. Although," I stare up into his face, part of my pretence crumbling. "I should trip more often if it means I get to lie in your arms."

Hikaru smiles, that playful twinkle in his eyes. "But you know, Kaoru," he says huskily. "You don't need an excuse for me to hold you in my arms."

"Hikaru . . ." I whisper as the girls go into a yaoi-induced frenzy. He can't know that it's these moments that I cherish, the moment when I can pretend I'm really his.

As we're being driven home that evening, Hikaru sighs and leans back, folding his hands behind his head. "You know," he says, closing his eyes. "I think Tamaki-sempai and Kyouya-sempai should try the whole yaoi scene."

"You think?" I ask, smiling fondly at him.

"Yeah," he says. "You know – we've got the whole twins thing going on, and Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai have their little shotacon scene. I reckon the girls would go even more crazy if they pretended to get it on for a change."

"What about Haruhi?"

"Well," he says, smiling impishly. "She could always go with Renge . . ."

I laugh and step out of the car as the driver pulls up outside the mansion. "Begging your pardon, sirs," our twin maids say in unison when we enter, stepping out of our school shoes and into the slippers laid out for us. "But a package just arrived for you."

I take the brown papered parcel and glance at the card attached to the front. Try them on – King's orders. K.

"Kyouya-sempai," I say as Hikaru looks over my shoulder. "Must be the butler outfits for tomorrow's Club Activity."

"Whatever," Hikaru yawns and hands his bag to one of the maids, the other taking mine from me. We go up to our bedroom and unwrap the parcel. It contains two bundles of material, both encased in a thin layer of tissue, one of which is labelled Hikaru, the other kaoru. "Here," I say, passing him his and pulling the tissue off of mine. "Wait, what the . . .?"

I lift the black satin and white lace monstrosity out of its packaging and stare disbelievingly. "The Boss isn't serious?" I gape, hoping to God I'm right and he's not expecting me to wear a French maid's outfit to the Club tomorrow. Hikaru bursts out laughing, unveiling his perfectly acceptable black velvet suit. "King's orders!" he splutters, his hand pressed against his mouth. "C'mon, Kaoru, it'll look great on you!"

"Shut up," I mutter crossly, dropping the flimsy material onto the bed as the other accessories fall out of the brown paper – white lacy stockings, a garter and elbow-length lace gloves. Not to mention a flimsy pair of women's underwear. "He's out of his mind," I shake my head. "There's no way I'm wearing that." I stare at the lace panties. "Especially not that!"

"Aww, c'mon, Kao-chan . . ." Hikaru purrs, using the nickname bequeathed to me by Honey-sempai. "Try it on. For me?"

I try to control the amount of blood rushing up my neck into my cheeks and turn away with a frustrated growl. "Alright," I grumble. "But you can't watch while I put it on."

"Okay," he grins, turning his back on me. I sigh, slip out of my blazer and undo the buttons of my shirt. What can Tamaki-sempai be thinking? Or Kyouya-sempai for that matter. It's not like we normally have to try on our outfits outside of Club hours anyway, so why this sudden request? As I'm stepping out of my trousers and boxers I pause for a moment, wondering. Could this be some kind of trick set up by Kyouya-sempai? I doubt Tamaki-sempai is perceptive enough to have noticed my feelings for Hikaru. I think even Haruhi might not have noticed, as I'm sure she would never consider an actual romance between brothers to be plausible. But Kyouya-sempai is considerably less naive than that. Could he know . . .?

I pull the silky black material on over my head and tie the white frilly apron in a bow at the back. I glance nervously at the panties and stockings before slowly pulling them on. I don't really want to admit it, but the silk lace underwear actually feels quite . . . nice. Oh God. Maybe this is Kyouya-sempai's secret plan to make me a transvestite like Ranka – Haruhi's father. I slip the garter into place and pull on the gloves, pausing to look at my reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the doors of our walk-in wardrobe. I hate to say it, but it doesn't look all that bad. I can foresee the girls at the Club going crazy over it, especially when we do our romantic brothers routine.

"Can I look now?" Hikaru asks. My body goes cold. When he sees me like this, he's surely going to do some kind of fake flirting like he always does whenever I wear something a little risqué.

"Alright," I say, and he turns round. At first, he doesn't say anything, just stares at me with his amber-green eyes. Then he gets up and walks from the room.

"Hikaru?" I call to him as he reaches the door. He pauses and glances back at me over his shoulder, looking almost ready to say something. But he just shakes his head and leaves, leaving me confused and upset.

The next day, he's still not quite talking to me, no matter how many times I ask him what's wrong. "I'm fine," he says coolly before falling into silence again. I'm so worried about it I can barely pay attention in class, and get called on by the teacher more than once. I can sense Haruhi looking at me concernedly, but I can't bring myself to look at her. However, halfway through Classic Literature and Arts, she discretely passes me a note: You can always talk to me – Haruhi. I sigh and give her an appreciative smile. She's wrong, but I'm touched by the gesture. It's absurd, but I know there's only one person I really can talk to about this . . .

"Sempai!" I call, catching up with him in the corridor, leaving a bemused Haruhi with a sullen Hikaru. Kyouya glances down at me and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. "Yes?" he says.

I tug him out of the corridor into an empty classroom, and stand there with a furious look on my face. "What were you thinking?" I demand. "Because of that stupid outfit, Hikaru won't even look at me!"

He sighs and brushes the part of his sleeve that I grabbed, smoothing out the material. "It's nothing to do with me," he says. "All of our costume ideas come from Tamaki."

"Don't give me that!" I narrow my eyes at him. "We all know you're the one pulling the strings behind everything."

"Whatever you say, Kaoru," he says, shrugging his shoulders and exiting, leaving me silently fuming in the empty room.

When I reach the Club room, everyone is already there waiting. "Kaoru," Tamaki-sempai grins at me, looking dashing as ever in his black velvet suit and crisp white shirt with white gloves and a bow-tie. Personally, I think he's a top-hat away from looking like a magician, but I've no doubt the girls will love it. "What took you so long?"

"Nothing," I sigh, my gaze drifting to Hikaru, who's in deep conversation with Haruhi by the window. He looks totally sexy in his outfit, his jacket slung over the back of an armchair. Tamaki-sempai has also somehow managed to persuade Haruhi to wear a dress identical to mine, along with a brunette wig that's styled in two curly bunches either side of her head. She looks very cute – Hikaru certainly seems to think so, judging by the way he's looking at her with that serene smile. It makes my heart ache just to look at him directing that smile to anyone but me.

"You can get changed over there," Tamaki says, pointing to a set of screens over by where the piano occasionally stands.

As I get changed – the sounds of Tamaki berating Hikaru for flirting with Haruhi drifting over from across the room – I'm surprised by the sudden appearance of Honey-sempai, who pops his head round the side of the screen. "What's up, Kao-chan?" he asks cheerily. He's also wearing the maid's dress, looking so totally adorable I'm sure the girls will go absolutely nuts over him.

"Nothing," I say for what feels like the thousandth time. "You look cute, Honey-sempai."

"I know," he grins, giving a small twirl, the skirt of his dress swinging around his upper legs. "So do you, Kao-chan!"

"Hmm . . ." I look down at my own dress, the silk and lace looking even more garish than before. I can't help but notice my skirt is several inches shorter than Haruhi and Honey-sempai's – short enough to show the straps that connect my stockings to the panties. Kyouya-sempai definitely did this on purpose.

I try to psyche myself up as the first few girls start to arrive. Hikaru still won't look at me, and I'm starting to wonder if we're going to be able to perform as well as we normally do. Haruhi's customers are ecstatic by her outfit – understandable as the majority of them still don't know her true gender – and she has her work cut out for her giving them all an equal amount of attention.

Several of Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai's customers look close to passing out as Mori-sempai wipes cake-crumbs from the corner of Honey-sempai's mouth and adjusts the bow at the back of his apron. I have no doubt Mori-sempai is thoroughly enjoying seeing Honey-sempai in such an adorable outfit, although he'd never show it on the outside.

"Kaoru?" Hikaru's voice brings me back from my thoughts with a snap. He's holding his hand out to me, that familiar mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "You know, you're making me kinda jealous," he says, taking hold of my hand and pulling me close to him. "Look at me, not Honey-sempai."

"I'm sorry, Hikaru," I say, trying to regain some of my normal composure. "You'll always have my full attention."

"Atta boy," he winks, giving my ass a quick pat and sending the girls into a squealing tizzy.

The next couple of hours that follow are possibly the hardest of my life, trying to appear normal and cheerful when inside my heart is aching. Every time Hikaru touches me it's like an electric shock, sending warm shivers up and down my spine. It's all I can do not to throw my arms around him and rip his clothes off right there in front of everyone. When the last of the customers leave, my mind feels like a wrung sponge and I'm emotionally drained.

"Good job, gentlemen!" Tamaki beams, winking roguishly at Haruhi. "Another successful day's work completed!"

Haruhi disappears into the adjacent room in which she normally undresses, while the rest of us wait our turn to change behind the screens. Only problem is . . . I can't find my clothes. Seriously, they've vanished.

"Hey," I say loudly to the room at large. "Anyone seen my clothes?"

"Oh, yes," Kyouya-sempai says, emerging from behind the screens, adjusting his tie. "One of the ladies accidentally spilt tea on it." He hands me a brown paper bag, in which my stained uniform in folded. "Fantastic," I mutter, knowing this means I'm going to have to wear the stupid dress all the way home. The driver should find it entertaining.

I'm more than half-hoping Hikaru will actually talk to me on the journey back, as he seemed to be acting relatively normal during the Club activities. But no, he's as silent as he was this morning, and I'm forced to have to endure endless glances from the driver at my promiscuous attire. This is rapidly going down at the Worst Day of My Life. The twin maids share identical looks of shock and amusement when I step out of the car, struggling to hide their giggles behind forced passive expressions.

"W-welcome back, s-sirs," they splutter. Wonderful – now even the staff think I'm a total idiot. By the time me and Hikaru reach our bedroom, I'm practically stomping along the corridor with my face twisted in a scowl. That's it, I need to ask Hikaru what the hell his problem is. The moment the door snaps shut, I wheel on the spot and glare at him. "Look," I say. "I don't—"

I never get any further than that before he throws his arms around my body and pulls me tight against him.

"Hi-Hikaru?" I stammer. What's going on? "What—?"

"Shhh," he says. "Don't say anything."

"Why—?" Then the impossible happens: pulling back from me, he cups my face in his hands and presses his lips against mine in a kiss that literally takes my breath away. It lasts for three seconds that lasts a lifetime, and when we pull apart my heart is playing some sort of drum-roll against my ribs. "Hikaru. . ."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I've been cold to you. I was just . . . confused."

Join the club. "What about?"

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, his hands clasping my upper-arms. "Everything," he says eventually.

"Hikaru," I pull his face up to stare into his golden-green eyes. "Tell me."

He's silent for a good minute or so before he lets loose a long sigh and closes his eyes. "Okay," he says. "I'm just gonna come out with it. Kaoru . . ." he opens his eyes and fixes me with a fiercely intense stare. "I'm in love with you."

It takes a moment or two for me to process this information. I'm sure I heard him wrong. Hikaru couldn't possibly . . .

"W-what?" My tongue feels heavy, too big for my mouth.

"You heard me," he says, his tone slightly aggressive with nerves. "I'm in love with you, Kaoru. God damn it, I'm in love with you. You want me to say it again?" He covers his eyes with his hand and sighs. "I know it's weird and just . . . wrong. I mean . . . we're brothers – we're twins – but I can't help it. You're the one I love, Kaoru."

"But . . ." I want to be positive about his sincerity before I start confessing my own undying love. "What about Haruhi?"

"I thought . . ." he clears his throat. "I thought I could stop thinking about you if I flirted with her. But then . . . I saw you in that damn outfit and I guess I kinda . . ."

"Snapped?" I finish for him.

"Yeah," he says. "Something like that. You're not . . . freaked out?"

"No," I assure him, taking a deep breath. "I love you too, Hikaru. I'm in love with you." And with that, I clasp his face in my hands and capture his lips in a kiss full of all the passion I've felt for him for all those secret years. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist – his skin sliding against the silk – and reciprocates with such enthusiasm I feel my knees going weak.

"Kaoru . . ." he murmurs against my mouth, his breath warm and sweet against my lips. I take hold of his hand and lead him wordlessly over to the wide double bed, wrinkling the pristinely-made duvet as I sit down. He kneels between my legs and slowly pushes them apart, his eyes hot on mine. "Well," he says, his long fingers running slowly up the lace stockings. "Let's see if we can't get you outta this thing."

He unclasps the fastenings on the top of the stockings with one hand, rolling down the frilly garter with the other. He makes quick work of removing my shoes and pulling the stockings down my legs, leaving them in a lacy heap on the floor. He kisses me again deeply as he undoes the bow at the back of my apron with one hand, the other slowly working its way up my leg and underneath the silky skirt, his fingers warm on my bare skin. Soon, both the apron and the dress have joined the pile on the floor, leaving me lying there in just the white lace panties.

"Holy fucking Jesus," he says as he looks at me. The sound of him cursing gives me a feeling of warm pleasure – he sounds so hot. His deft fingers remove the flimsy material, leaving me naked in front of him. Now, being brothers, we've seen each other naked plenty of times, but this time feels so different. His lust-hooded eyes are gazing at me hungrily, his fingers flexing to touch me. Taking control of the situation, I sit up and lean forward to hastily undo the fly of his trousers, pushing them down past his hips along with his boxers. He lets out a strangled cry of pleasure when I take him into my mouth, his knees shaking slightly. "Oh God . . . Kaoru . . .!"

I pull my lips up to the tip and twirl my tongue around the head, my tongue flicking that sensitive spot under the ridge. Hikaru gasps and grips my hair with his long fingers, thrusting his hips so my head bobs up and down along his hard length. I can feel him growing against my tongue, his member twitching slightly as it gets even harder.

"S-stop!" he gasps and pushes my shoulder so I find myself suddenly lying on my back against the bed duvet. He leans down, his body pressed against me, and presses his lips to mine in a kiss that takes my very breath away. He pulls back and stares down at me, his eyes very serious.

"Kaoru," he says, his voice slightly hoarse from emotion. "Are you sure? I mean really sure? There's no going back if we do this."

"I know," I say softly, reaching up to trace my fingers along his cheek and down his jaw. "It's okay, Hikaru. I love you."

"I love you," he echoes. He spits – none too elegantly – into his palm and rubs it onto his erection, lining up the head against my entrance as I left my knees to give him easier access. He gives me a smirk, a shadow of his usual mischievous glee glinting in his eyes. "You ready?" he asks.

My stomach feels twisted with nerves, my heart hammering against my ribs, but I nod all the same, closing my eyes and leaning my head back as he enters me. He starts slowly, but it still hurts as I feel him penetrate the tight ring of muscle. The head of his hard member suddenly enters all the way in and I gasp loudly, my face screwed up against the pain.

"Are you alright?" Hikaru asks, his voice caught between desire and concern. "Kaoru?"

"I'm fine," I moan. "Keep going."

By the time he has pushed himself all the way in – gradually at first but losing control toward the end – I can feel a sharp twinge followed by a dull ache spreading up my spine. I suspect it feels a lot better for Hikaru, as he is hanging over me, his hands supporting my raised knees, a look of intense bliss on his face – his mouth hanging slightly open and his forehead already damp with concentration. He looks so beautiful. Exquisite. I drag myself up and wrap my arms around his neck, feeling him move inside me. I run my tongue along the nape of his neck, tasting the salty tang of sweat, and he groans in ecstasy. He starts to move his hips, pulling out of me a little before pushing back in. He does this a few more times, pulling further out each time, until I feel the head of his cock brush something deep inside me and a rush of intense pleasure shoots from my own semi-erect member to the tips of my fingers. Hikaru suddenly pulls out of me and, placing a deep kiss on my lips, rolls me over so I'm on all fours before entering me again. He reaches round my body to grasp my cock, his long fingers wrapping round it and stroking it from the base to the tip.

"Hikaru!" I gasp, falling forward onto my elbows as he presses hard into me, hitting that wonderful spot again. I find myself unconsciously pushing my hips back to meet his heated thrusts, desperate for more. He leans over my, his stomach and chest pressing against my back and leaves a trail of fiery kisses along my neck and shoulders. He gently nips the skin with his teeth, soothing the bites with flicks of his tongue as he pumps me harder while his thrusting rhythm quickens.

"Fuck . . . Kaoru!" he pants, a seemingly unstoppable series of gasps and moans escaping him. "I'm gonna . . . nnng . . . ahh!"

I push back hard against him as he hits my prostate for a final time before shooting spurts of warm liquid deep inside me, marking me forever as his, as I feel my own load empty into the palm of his waiting hand. He collapsed against me, our breath coming in simultaneous gasps as he pulls out and falls down to lie against me, his arms snaking around my waist and chest.

"Kaoru," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to one of the notches on my spine. "I love you."

I roll over so I'm facing him, my palms resting flat against his chest, and stare into his amber-green eyes – so like mine but filled with a dominant fire I know I'll never be able to mirror.

"I love you too," I reply, kissing him softly.

"Don't ever leave me," he pleads, nuzzling his face into the crook of my shoulder.

"I won't," I promise him, sure my heart is going to burst with emotion.

Later that night, Kyouya Ootori picked up the stylish silver mobile phone lying stationary on his bedside cabinet and dialled a number. After a few rings, Kaoru answered.

"Sempai?"

"I just thought I'd check in on you," Kyouya said coolly. "Make sure things were going smoothly for you and Hikaru."

"It's . . . we're fine. More than fine." There was a brief pause in which Kyouya heard the sound of rustling bed-sheets and a door closing. "Sempai . . . did you mean for this to happen?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Kyouya said, smirking to himself.

"Sempai . . ." Kaoru sounded somewhat embarrassed. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for," Kyouya said. "Goodnight, Kaoru."

As he hung up, leaving a no doubt confused Kaoru at the other end of the line. Hikaru could be dense at times, anyone could have known it would only take the smallest of pushes in the right direction to make him realise exactly what his real feelings for Kaoru were. Well, anyone except maybe Tamaki. Even Haruhi was slightly dense in her own way when it came to matters of love. It had been Honey-sempai's suggestion to have Kaoru dress in that seductive outfit when Kyouya had expressed his suspicions of the younger twin's feelings for his brother to him, Mori-sempai and Renge. Honey-sempai was considerably shrewder than he let on. Kyouya chuckled to himself as he closed the lid of his laptop and began undressing for bed.

"Just as well you decided to make a move, Hikaru," he said to himself. "Kaoru does hold a certain appeal. I might have had to steal him from you. No chance of that now, I suppose . . . Ahh, well."

With one fleeting thought about how Renge would take the news of the twins' newly-discovered genuine romance, Kyouya switched off his bedside lamp and settled down into his pillow.

Life was full of surprises.