Idk, I wrote this at like two in the morning and I was totally jacked up on red hots and I'm really not sure what the plot line was actually about I just know it's kinda like a slight au/alternate ending to The Sun, the Sea and The Host Club! Were everybody is drunk off there ass and Tamaki just really wants Haruhi in his bed. But I mean it's not as smutty as I just made it sound. But anyways it's really shitty and I should probably get more sleep before I write anything else ever again. You should probably just back out.
Bisco Hatori owns every character mentioned. The plot line is a mix. No copyright infringement intended.
It had started with a dance. A nice dance.
An odd dance. Hands touched hands. Feet kicked shins. He had wished he brought a leather jacket to add to the feel. Late 50's music blared through speakers. The girls who had returned from earlier in the day came back, dressed in rolled jeans. Combat boots. Polka dots.
Too many polka dots. They looked like cheap pin up models with almond eyes and too much eyeliner. Their hair wouldn't even curl.
God were they trying to blind him? Beer had gotten to his brain; disgusting brown beer he wouldn't dare drink at home.
Who decided on the 50's anyway? Was there even supposed to be a theme to this drunken mess of a party?
But the girls had flocked around him like geese and for the time being he was happy. Happy with his jeans and now open button down. Happy with the blurred lines of Haruhi, standing alongside orange hair. He couldn't tell if his vision made two of them, or if both twins were with her. Did it matter?
Not anymore.
He had screwed up earlier, yelling at her, screaming, grabbing shoulders too fiercely. And now all of these people were back, missing such a great show between the two of them. But you couldn't care about something if you didn't know it happened, right?
Something was still uneasy with him, like maybe he would hurl up all his alcohol. Like he was still happy to see her there. Not in a room screaming in pillows at the top of her lungs; no one hearing her over the music.
That was what he felt with Haruhi. Happy.Ecstatic.Overjoyed. Maybe a little horny too.
Step away from the beer.
More towards the half-dressed girls.
A little more now.
He addressed himself with simple thoughts. Don't look at her. You're supposed to be angry. Don't look at the Hitachiins. They helped fuck over the intruders but still. They stood, chatting away with the only person he lov-.
No. Not today. Today she was still a daughter, too frail to take on men alone. Too small and young to be drinking.
An also small and young idea grew in his head. He faked a large smile, waving hands in the air.
"Oh Haruhi!" He sang. Pushing through girls was hard enough. Trying to get Haruhi's attention and still manage to not trip over his own feet was harder.
He said it again, halfway there now.
"Haruhi! He was annoyed with his own voice. Just get to her. "Haruhi, why aren't you dancing?"
He had her attention. She couldn't dance. He knew that. The rest of the club knew that. Hell, the whole school knew that two-left-feet was her middle name.
Haruhi looked at him, now only meters away. She used the drink in her hand-a full glass of real actual vodka, but she wouldn't tell anybody that, right?-as a sorry excuse.
"Can't! I'm doing something!"
She raised it above her head to indicate Uh, hello? Can't you tell I'd like to murder my memories tonight?
He was at her now. Right in front. Only a couple feet closer and his arms could be around her, kissing her neck. He didn't dare try.
"Oh Haruhi, put that down." He grabbed it from her. It landed spilt on a chair. At least he thought it was more table shaped. "Come daance!"
She was disappointed at him. More at the drink for not working quickly enough. She didn't wait for a pulled hand or an arm around her shoulders. She replied too quickly.
"No way in hell. Nothing could get me out there."
Was he hurt? Shocked? He couldn't even tell. His whole body-his whole mind- was numbed over enough by the drinks. All he could see was Haruhi.
No longer a cute daughter.
A little sister with pigtails.
He saw Haruhi; dressed in shorts and a slouchy sweater. Haruhi with brown hair and light skin. And beautiful.
The word echoed around in his head, twice, another time. Over and over until they slipped out. Loud.
"You look beautiful. Tonight I mean." He mustered out a few more lines. "The lights-they make you look-you look nice."
Even half drunk he still knew what an idiot sounded like.
She blushed. Pink. Like salmon.
No. What a stupid description.
Like carnations.
He smiled. It was all he could do. He wanted to grab her, take her to a room. Too soon?
"Here." A drink was handed. His to her hands. His original plan had failed. New ones where already forming.
He wasn't purposefully trying to get her drunk. But maybe a tipsy Haruhi would sound just as idiotic as him.
She took it. She took it!
She shot it back bar-style. No side affects afterwards. Just a word.
"Another."
She didn't wait for him. She walked pass the groupies. Pass the silent DJ. Pass the loud music. She had heard more of The Beatles music tonight that she had in her whole life. Straight to a bar.
Ok, maybe more of a shiny table. Lined with shot glasses. Budweiser's. Cocktails.
She grabbed the first one she could. A small glass, half dark-half clear. It was separated perfectly.
"Put it on his credit."
Did Tamaki even have a credit? Hell, they were in a trashy three-star hotel listening to shitty music in the lobby. And that was trashy by Haruhi's standards. There probably wasn't credit for anybody here. Maybe for the bartender.
"Out." She spoke little. Small demands. She wasn't shocked he was talking to her now, it was half expected. But the incident had still bothered her, causing her to stay silent.
It had happened before yelling and shaking from blond boys. Before arms placed around her from dark hair and glasses. She had sobbed then, right on Kyoya's shirt. Something they would never talk about again. Even before footsteps were heard on sand, pulling full grown men off her. She stopped kicking her legs.
Of course she wanted another. And another. Nobody could forget something like that. Drunk-off-whiskey men, pinning her down to cave walls. Sloppy disgusting kisses. Screaming. Lots of screaming. The one day she was an actual girl for once. And a crime had happened. An almost rape. And nobody knew.
And another. The words rattled off her tongue. She grabbed another. Solid amber.
"Here." She shoved it into Tamaki's hand. "For me."
He gawked. Maybe that had been the wrong word. Astonished. That was it.
His hand grasped the glass. His other grabbed one from the table, swinging it back. Down his throat. It burned.
"Out." She repeated. "Outside. C'mon."
His free hand was grabbed, pulled up stairs. Out doors, onto a balcony. A couple made out on a bench.
"Y-you guys… We're bu-"
"Get lost." A glare was tossed there way. The two scrambled up, losing balance along the way. Back into the hall.
"Sit," She was already on the previously rented bench. Just relieved to be outside in the fresh air for once. Her hand reaching out for her other drink. "And hand it over, Tamaki."
He was still in the doorway, back pressed against glass panels. He was shocked now. They were up on a balcony. Alone. And by her choice. There was no effort at all on his part. No loud noises. No excited movement. No force to get her to participate.
It was all on her. His smile returned, bigger this time, growing as he walked towards her.
With each new drink he became more skilled. His walking wasn't as wobbly. His vision was clearer. Or maybe he was still an idiot, just too drunk to realize it.
He sat next to her. That was all. Sitting. What would he say? Why were they even here? Why was anybody here? Nobody planned a party, so why was every possible student from Ouran jumping up and down to remixes of oldies? He had started to hate this beach. This cheap hotel.
"Here. You'll get cold." Hands brushed up against his chest. Pulling his shirt closed. His buttons being attached back together. His thoughts came back to him, trying not to focus on Haruhi. She was still level with him, back still straight. Nothing of the crouched over touchy-feely uncomfortable kind. But her hands stayed there for a second, pressed against his chest.
The wind blew through the fake greenery. He was cold. How had he not noticed that? It was freezing.
"Thank you." He whispered it, hoping it was lost in the wind.
She heard. A shrug and a quick nod. She took the drink sitting in between the two of them. It went down her throat slow. Half the glass still remained.
"I'm sorry Haruhi." Still whispering. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I couldn't - you couldn't help it that they were there."
It was a private beach for god sake. Why were there men out there? Why was she out there alone? Is this what just a small walk, I'll be ok, you guys turns into? Silent and drinking the night away just hours afterward?
"I'm so sorry…"
"You're such a lightweight, Tamaki."
"What?"
"I said you're su-"
"No I… I heard. I'm sorry."
Why was he apologizing for such a stupid thing?
She touched his cheek. One hand. Then the other. Things were too serious now. Twenty minutes ago he was yelling at her to come dance. Now they were too close, saying drunken apologies.
"And you're an idiot."
"I'm sorry."
"Would you stop saying that?"
"I-I'm sor-"
She grabbed him harder. Pulled him in closer. Lips against lips.
Why had she kissed him? Why was she still kissing him? She couldn't breathe now. Let go Haruhi.
She did. She let him go. She gasped for air, not daring to look up. The bench was a nice colour anyway.
"I… Tamaki, I didn't mean - I mean... I'm an idiot." She couldn't think straight. Why, why, why? Why was she so stupid?
"No you aren't." He started on her. He wouldn't mention what happened. But that feeling was back. Happy. Ecstatic. Overjoyed. He tried holding back the rest.
"What's wrong Haruhi."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Pure truth. Something was wrong. All of this was wrong.
"I don't love you Tamaki. I hope you know that." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. They wouldn't escape though. Not tonight. Not ever. "I might tomorrow morning, or next week, or maybe never at all. But I need to forget. Forget what happened. And you're helping me." That was a demand.
It didn't make half as much sense out loud as it did in her head. She hoped he would get up. Turn around-leave. Please, please just go.
He couldn't say anything. He had been frozen into a state of shock.
Love.
That's what it was. One touch of a hand on a neck. Lips pressed up against a cheek. And he had felt love the entire time.
"Let's go."
They were sprinting down halls, hiding in shadows as people walked by. Checking door numbers. Arms around waists. Electricity. Warmth. It radiated without even saying anything.
They had finally found it, large metal numbers on a wooden door: 306.
The door was swung-open-slammed-shut in seconds. Locks clicked.
Then they made out. Nothing romantic or classy, just lips and mouths and roaming hands and heavy breath. She enjoyed it more than him. But the lust that he used to hold back was obvious now.
How could he have seen her like that? Like a daughter, still young and cute and protected. Here she was pressed up against wood, half dressed. This wasn't a daughter. And he enjoyed it more this way. This was what he wanted.
"Tamaki." Haruhi stopped for air. "You're supposed to make me forget what happened not fuck me against the door."
A light laugh escaped his lips and made a noise kind of like, Maybe next time? But she hadn't paid attention to it.
He changed his train of thought. He had too. Maybe the bed? That was better, right?
The bed. It did make it better. The tossed clothing and disheveled sheets made it better than better. Like fireworks.
Nobody would ever admit what had happened that night in the small hotel room. Not the neighbors next to there room who tried to sleep. Not the uninvited guests the next morning. And definitely not the two victims.
"Do you think they actually did it?" Auburn heads poked in the doorway. Three more young men joined, in staring at the two.
Tamaki and Haruhi. That how it was heard that morning. And that next day. And the following week. Just the two words: Tamaki and Haruhi.
Kyoya was the first to actually speak up. To clarify.
"Probably not, as they're still fully clothed. And I'm sure Haruhi wouldn't be stupid enough to actually sleep with Tamaki. Especially after what happened yesterday afternoon."
Or maybe Haruhi and Tamaki were just really good at getting dressed afterwards.
Wow ok let's all agree to never be creative again. I'm not really sure about Haruhi's gender in this. I mean, everybody could know she's a girl and maybe she just likes men's clothing and hooking up with the chairman's son? Or maybe it's still following the whole guy-is-really-a-girl-but-no-one-knows-and-Tamaki-is-probably-gay thing. Either way is cool, whatever you're up for. I like both.
You really don't need to review because it's probably really shitty anyways and I know that. But if you'd like, that's appreciated.
( ˘ ³˘)