H is for Howler

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Ouran Highschool Host Club is property of Bisco Hatori; I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: gender change, pre-slash.

Pairing: Tamaki/Haruhi.

Setting: Beginning of the manga.

Summary: Still, to be faced with him so near-especially after such an embarrassing incident-leaves him flustered, trying not to wring his sweater in anxiety.

A/N: Howler: a stupid or glaring mistake, especially an amusing one.

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The first thing he thinks of is "Oh shit" when faced with a broken vase and the face of the prince of Ouran, Suoh Tamaki. He was tall and handsome, with blonde hair and light eyes (a product of his french side; he was said to be french and japanese.) Not even Haruhi, perpetually stuck in his own world of books could fail to notice Tamaki and his good looks.

Still, to be faced with him so near-especially after such an embarrassing incident-leaves him flustered, trying not to wring his sweater in anxiety.

"Hmm." Tamaki says, hand on his chin in thought. "With that price-and with you no way to pay it off-we'll have to think of a way to let you pay off the debt. Aha! I have the perfect idea!"

Tamaki was the leader of Ouran High's own Host Club, a prestigious little Club where more rich folk like himself gathered. Though it was, as to be expected in a high school, a bit more tame than an actual host club. Surely he wasn't thinking along those sorts of lines! Unless he wanted to hire Haruhi as a joke Host; with his glasses and general look, there was no way anyone would ever want his company.

Tamaki steps forward, grabbing Haruhi suddenly by the arms, startling the breath out of him. It had been a long time since anyone but his father had touched him at all. He knew what people generally thought of him; strange Haruhi with his glasses, and books, and wasn't he the poor one? He should be thankful he was even allowed to be here! It didn't hurt him as much as it once did, but it still hurt, nevertheless. Dipping into his books helped to forget those sorts of thoughts.

"You're perfect! You're-" Tamaki stops, looking down at Haruhi as if he can't believe it. Haruhi gasps in shock as Tamaki touches his chest. "But-But you're not a girl!" Tamaki sputters.

Haruhi looks at him as if he grew a second head. "Of course I'm not. Do I look like one?" With his deeper voice and more than flat chest, shouldn't that be indication enough? Sure, there were tomboys in the school who dressed more like men and were girls, but they were still obviously girls! He almost wanted to be insulted, but it wasn't the effort to be-especially with Tamaki looking so downtroden like he was.

"Well...no." Tamaki admits, scratching his head sheepishly. "But you wouldn't be the first to look different than their gender; there's a lot of tomboy's in the school."

"But why would you want me, in your club I mean," Haruhi says, trying not to blush. "If I was a girl? You're a Host Club."

Tamaki shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I had been thinking of expanding to either add a female host, to cater to our GL loving crowd or a set of entirely female hosts. Well," he continues, eying Haruhi critically. "Might take some work, but I think we could make a host out of you yet."

"What?!" Haruhi splutters. "But I don't want to be-"

"Eight. Million. Yen." Tamaki reminds him, with a smile.

Haruhi sighs.

Still...who knew what this might lead to?

There was only one way to find out.

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice