Author's Notes: I wrote this around one in the morning, so if it has any glaring grammatical/spelling errors, I apologize. Other than that, thanks for clicking!
Disclaimer: I am not making a profit off this piece of fiction. I do not Ouran Host Club or any of the characters mentioned herein.
We're walking down the street, talking. I want so badly to hold your hand, but I know better. We're in public, after all, and you don't do that sort of thing in public. Not with the whole world seemingly looking over your shoulder.
It's muggy outside tonight, and the light from the streetlamps has a hazy quality to it. You say that it feels like rain, and I can't help but agree. The sky is sparking with heat lightning and throwing strange shadows onto the buildings around us.
Your voice is at my ear suddenly. Come with me, you say, and you take my hand and hurry down a side street. The wind is picking up and so is your pace. I stumble along behind you, being led inexorably along by your hand around my fingers.
Suddenly before us is a fenced off area. It appears to be a park of some kind, though I can't see inside it for all the bushes. It is very clearly closed. Signs posted along the tall fence loudly proclaim that the park closes at dusk, and at nearly midnight, dusk is decidedly gone.
You produce a key from your slacks and open a gate. When I stare at you dumbly, you whisper, Hurry, and I snap to action, quickly slipping past you and into the park. You close the gate behind us, reaching your hand through the bars to lock it again from the outside.
Tall bushes grow along the fences, obstructing the view of the interior of the park. From the outside looking in, it wouldn't be obvious that anyone was here. From the inside, it seems as though I am surrounded by leafy bushes. The park feels wonderfully secluded.
Take off your shoes, you whisper. The wind gusts about us again, and your hair ruffles so prettily. I look at you in disbelief. You say nothing, choosing instead to lead by example. You take off your shoes and socks and leave them under a bush near the gate. You lay your jacket over them, almost as an afterthought. Reluctantly, I follow suit.
The grass is lush and cool beneath my feet, and I wonder briefly how I could have thought taking off my shoes was a bad idea. A voice in the back of my mind tells me that I never thought it was a bad idea. I simply never imagined that you would be the one to suggest it.
Protected from the public as we are, you take my hand and lead me into the park. The grass is long, almost to my ankles, and it tickles my feet as we walk. The ground is soft and welcoming, and after we have walked for a bit, you sit down.
The sky above us flashes with lightning again, but it is a silent storm. For whatever reason, there is no thunder, and only a touch or two of wind. For a while, we sit together on the glorious lawn and watch the sky as the lightning flickers and forks.
Let me love you, you whisper, and I do.
After, lying naked in the grass, I turn to look at you. Your eyes are closed and you are silent, and so, so still. If I did not know you so well, I would have assumed that you were sleeping. But I know better. I know that you're wide awake, probably thinking about everything and nothing.
The lightning still flashes overhead. It illuminates your pale skin, giving you an unearthly glow with every particularly bright flash. A breeze whispers over us and I shiver. You shift almost imperceptibly closer to me without opening your eyes. It's your instinct to protect me. I smile at you, but you don't see it.
Tell me you love me, you murmur, even as I say, I love you, Kyouya.
I rest my head on your chest and listen to your heart. With every beat, I hear it say, Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.
We stand after a time. The storm has passed and the night is still. We dress in silence. You let us out of the park and kiss me briefly on the lips. A goodbye. My heart aches.
For a moment, we stand in each other's arms, completely still. Your eyes are travelling restlessly over my face, as though you're searching for something there that you can't seem to find.
Kyouya, I whisper and you seal my lips with yours. This time, your kiss is long and deep. I'm surprised at you, but delighted too.
And then, as you break away from me, you say, Live with me.
You're looking at the ground, as though ashamed, as though you think I might not agree, as though I'd laugh at you or deny you. I bring your face up to mine gently, and place a soft kiss on each of your cheeks.
Mon amour, I whisper, and your eyes are alive with a rare a fire. When can I move in?
You laugh suddenly, clear as bells or thunder. You take my hand and lead me away, your laughter echoing off the buildings and into my heart. We walk all the way back to your house (our house, you say as we stand at the door).
As we step inside, the traces of your laughter melt away into the night like wisps of smoke. You're quiet and pensive, and you seem sad to me, somehow. I know what you're thinking, but I want you to say it. I need to hear you say it.
This is impossible, you whisper, your voice soft as ash in my ears. I nod. I know that as much as you want me, as much as you love me, the choice between your future and your love for me is an impossible one for you to make. And I know the conclusion you will come to eventually. And because I love you, I know that I have to accept it, even if it breaks me.
This is impossible, you say again. But I want you to stay.
The implications of your words floor me. You're choosing me. Me. Over your career, over your future, over everything you have worked so hard to accomplish. You're choosing me.
Kyouya, I say, and I can't bring my voice above a choked whisper.
Shut up, you say, not unkindly. I know what I'm doing.
Yes, my love. I believe you do.
fin