He'd fallen asleep so very early last night. It brought a smile to his groggy face when he remembered why that was. The extra sleep allowed him to wake up early, just as the sun was beginning to turn blue after sunrise. Unusual for him, he opened the curtains that morning. Everything seemed so much lovelier today. Especially Haruhi.

The sun tickled her skin, softly shaking her from her deep dreams. She moaned, pulling the sheet up to her nose. It was still night time, right? It had to be, she wasn't nearly ready to get up yet.

He glanced back at her. It occurred to him that she may not be ready to wake up just yet... but he wasn't sure if he could wait for her. He sat at the edge of the bed, taking Haruhi's hand and running his thumb along the lines of her palm. "Haruhi. Are you up yet?"

Drowsily slitting her eyes open, she groaned again. No matter how gorgeous her wake up call was. "Sen... pai..?" she yawned, closing her fingers around his thumb. "Is it time to get up?"

"If you're ready," he replied. "It's a fine morning, I'd hate for you to miss it."

She sighed deeply, turning onto her back to flex her feet and arch her back into a stretch. "And what-" she yawned again, reclining back against the pillows, "Would I miss?"

She was quite skeptical so early in the morning. "Nothing in particular. But the beach is lovely in the early morning."

She smiled, eyes closed again. "But the bed is so nice."

"Well, if you insist." He stretched out across the bed, resting a hand on her thigh as he gazed out the window. His mind wasn't prone to wandering, but today... it seemed like just the day to let it. He thought about Haruhi, and about their future, whatever it could be.

Haruhi sighed, rolling to her side so she could cuddle against his. "I do," she murmured against his pajamas. "You owe me a massage, Kyouya Ootori," she remembered suddenly. She ran her hand up to rest on his chest.

"Oh, don't believe I was trying to cheat you out of it," he replied. "You were just so efficient last night, I couldn't help myself."

She snuffed lightly, crossing her leg over his, slightly awed that she couldn't even reach his feet. "I do aim to please-"

"And you do." He planted a kiss on her neck. "Would you like me to start before, or after breakfast?"

Her skin warmed pleasantly at his lips. Before. Before. Breakfast was stupid. "Oh, whatever you want," she responded flippantly. "It's up to you."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to wait that long. "We'll have to get this off first." He reached over to undo the few buttons she bothered to do last night.

She grinned lazily, laying back down on her back to give him the best access. "It does seem in the way," she commented, unsure of what else to say, his fingers working efficiently.

He slid her shirt off of her, made easy by the fact that it was far too large on her tiny frame. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he made to slowly remove her long socks. He kissed both of her knees as he did.

"Roll over, if you would."

Her toes wiggled, the sensation of his stubbly jaw on her knees a bit ticklish. She obliged, settling down in the nest of blankets. "Wait," she said, pulling one of the pillows over to prop up her hips. "Okay. Now it'll be easier."

"Ready?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer before laying his hands on her back. Her skin was warm, and soft despite the long shower yesterday. He recalled all of the charts he memorized about pressure points and nerves and such. He had the technical knowledge, he just wasn't sure if he could apply it.

He worked his fingertips deep into her flesh.

"How could I refuse-" she mumbled, his fingers digging into her like magic, "-an expert?" She moaned a contented sound, her muscles tight after their... playing last night.

"I would hardly claim to be an expert," he replied, spreading his nimble fingers to reach even more surface area. He worked down, from the base of her skull to the tip of her spine.

She tried to relax, let him work, but he was so good at this; she kept arching up into him, vaguely remembering she still had a skirt on. Ah, well. "Kyouya," she moaned quietly. He might even be better than she was.

He grinned, trying to remain silent as he worked at her. Part of him got such a rush every time she said his name like that. He dug in deeper, trying to elicit just one more moan.

Her fingers buried themselves in the sheets, holding on for balance. "More?" she asked, wanting his hands to go everywhere. The areas he'd already worked with felt amazing, and her other muscles were calling out for the same treatment.

"Of course," he replied, his voice tinged with a deep satisfaction. He continued, kneeling between her feet to work out her legs, before moving back upwards to take care of her arms.

She sighed, amazed someone could take such tender care of her body. She wasn't filthy (anymore), but she certainly was underweight, and under-exercised, and it was easy to remember anything but that some days. "You've made me almost boneless, Sir," she murmured. She was kind of glad he'd skipped her rear, though. The brand was a bit... embarrassing. "I can see how you fell asleep..." she yawned.

"You're far better at this than I am, I assure you," he admitted. Still, she seemed to be enjoying it well enough. He kissed between her shoulders once he'd finished. "But I've learned a few tricks from you."

She smiled, reaching for his chin. "All good, I hope." She turned over lazily, forgetting her clothing situation. "By the way, do we need to add kissing to my list?" She tugged at him, wanting one right now. "I am new at that one."

He chuckled. "I haven't much experience in that area, myself," he said. "I suppose we'll have to learn together, hm?"

She wiggled a bit, smiling. "You're already good." She reached to touch his shoulders. "Senpai, do you like this skirt?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject. She ran her hands along his arms. "I do."

"I'm glad," he replied. "I admit, there is a certain allure to it." Which was why he commissioned it for her cosplay all those weeks ago. He was kind of glad he was the only one who got to see her in it. "You should wear it more often."

She smiled knowingly. "Only for you, though." She kicked up one leg to bend at the knee, raising her eyebrow coyly at him. "Actually, Senpai, I think I may have bruised myself yesterday. Will you kiss it and make it better?"

He rose his eyebrows right back at her. "A bruise? That sounds serious. Where is it?"

She pointed under the skirt, the tippy-top of her thigh. "Serious," she mimicked.

He ran his hand up her leg slowly, pulled her skirt up to peer at the 'wound.' "It doesn't look so bad." He placed a very gentle kiss on it, anyways. "I can fix that."

She watched, transfixed, fingers ghosting over his hair. "I know. You can fix anything," she mused seriously. "I don't know if one kiss is enough."

"Oh, is that so?" he asked, moving to kiss her inner thigh this time. "What are you suggesting?"

She smiled again, looking at him. "I don't know; you just have very healing lips."

He tugged at the skirt briefly- No, no, to much candy will rot your soul. Three times in two days seemed just a little excessive... maybe. "Are there any other bruises I should know about?"

She pointed at her mouth. "Here." A coy grin danced over her lips.

"How could I have missed that?" he asked, grinning back at her, before crawling over her body to plant another kiss on her lips.

She kissed him again, a little peck on the lips, before sitting up to just hug him. She sighed into his chest, his muscles feeling completely satisfying and warm against her. "We'll go to the beach today?"

"I think so," he replied. No point in coming all the way out here, if not to take advantage of the venue. "But we're in no hurry."

She rubbed his back softly, pulling away. "Either way, I suppose I should get dressed." His lips were just too kissable. She indulged in another. "If you don't mind."

"I suppose I've no excuse to say 'no,'" he replied. He was about ready to get dressed, himself. "Go ahead." He rolled over, climbing out of bed once more to find his clothes.

She hopped out of bed, smiling to herself as she went to find her swimsuit again. Since she wasn't wearing underwear as it was, she slipped on the bottoms without much thought, leaving the skirt where it was. She almost wondered if the addition of the panties would be more enticing. "Senpai?" She asked, holding out her top strings. And yeah, she could admit it this time, she just liked the feeling of his hands dressing her.

He pulled on his swim trunks as he turned to look at her. "Ah, of course." He wasn't going to get tired of this. He approached, taking the string once more, and taking his time to tie a very careful, very elegant bow.

She wet her lips, turning to smile her thank you. She turned back to the suitcase, digging through to find another frilly top she didn't recognize. "Senpai," she asked, turning, "What's this?" She held it up against her, looking at it this way and that.

He smiled. "Nothing special," he said. Although, he could quite clearly picture just how special it would look once she wore it. "I just wanted to see you in it. So I bought it."

She smirked, a quick mental image of Senpai trying to explain that at the check out. Still, it was very kind and completely adorable that he had thought of her like that. Her cheeks tinged with a touch of color. "Thank you," she cocked her head slightly before pulling it over her head. "Does this look right?" She tugged on the ends, trying to straighten it.

"Stunning," he replied with a smile as he pulled a shirt on. Mercifully, he was out of ugly tropical-print shirts for the week.

She grinned in approval of his shirt, going back to uncover her phone. 50 new messages? Really? She paged through them, rolling her eyes as they became more and more worried. "Tamaki's all in a frenzy," she informed Senpai. "Oh, and it looks like he's been telling everyone that we're dead on the side of the road somewhere, because they're all worried, too." She grunted as she snapped the phone closed. Morons. All of them.

Well, Kyouya was certainly glad he'd set his phone to silent last night. He sighed wearily. "I suppose that means I've got to call him." What a perfect way to ruin a great morning.

Her brows knit together. "No, do you have to? Can't they just, you know, wait for a while? I could just text Tamaki...?" Talking to anyone on this weekend, of all times, was a bit daunting. "We can tell them you got called out of town for business and we'll see them at school on Monday or something."

That was a very tempting idea... "They'll be bothering you all day, you understand."

She was already typing a message. "As long as they don't show up," she snorted. That might make for an awkward hello.

"Don't tell them where you are," he said, a mock seriousness in his voice. "Under any circumstances."

She rolled her eyes. "I swear on my debt that I won't. Jeez, squealing kids are just what we need around here, don't you think?" The phone lit up again.

He let out a groan. He could barely stand them on a day that wasn't set aside specifically for her. "How about you just turn off your phone and we let them worry for a while?"

She played with the thing for a minute more, standing up. "Okay, one second." She crossed the room to tip toe herself up to Kyouya's height. "Smile," she directed.

He offered her a little half smirk, just to humor her. He was never one for photography, but he'd gotten more than used to spontaneous cellphone shots by virtue of existing in the same space as Tamaki.

She smiled too, snapping the picture. "Thanks," she said, setting it to her background. "Now you'll always be able to see who's texting me, eh?" She held it up for him to see the result.

"That sounds like a wise strategy." He wondered if he should do the same for her, and if his phone was going to blow up like this every time they stepped out for the weekend.

She shut down the device, tossing it back into her bag without much though. She brightened a bit when she noticed the soup. "Hey, Senpai! When we get hungry, we should try that soup in a can I got!"

He snickered. It might be an interesting learning experience. "I suppose it's worth a try," he replied. "And you haven't had breakfast yet."

"We don't have a chef, Senpai," she shifted, holding the soup. "And I haven't had the chance to do much cooking since..." since her life started. That was good. This was her boyfriend she was talking to.

"You raise a very good point." One of these days, he would take a full staff down here so she could have a proper experience. For now, soup on a warm day sounded just fine.

She went back over to him, holding up the soup. "Well, as tradition dictates, in reference to certain activities we indulged in last night, I believe you need to carry me over the threshold."

"Is that how it works?" He swept her up. "I would hate to tarnish such a long held tradition." He rested his forehead against hers, looking into her deep, gorgeous eyes for just a moment, before continuing through the door.

She nuzzled into him, the feeling of his muscles working around her very soothing. Like, if something happened, she knew he could just grab her and run. Not that she wanted that to happen... (unless it was to bed or something).

"So you've never had soup from a can before?"

"Not unless my cooks have been cheating me," he replied. "Do the preservatives affect the taste at all?" As if a normal person could answer such a question.

She stared at the can, as if it would reveal its preservative levels. "I don't know. Usually Mom would water down our soup, though. I think to make it last longer, but she always said to make it less salty."

He was never entirely sure what to say when she made comments about her past like that. For distraction, he peered over her shoulder at the instruction on the back of the can. "That does seem to be the recommended procedure."

She noticed his attention, slapping her hand over the can. "Senpai!" she protested, "What if I'd wanted to surprise you?"

He lifted his eyes. "Oh no. I've ruined the entire experience, haven't I?" He set her down. "Very well. I shall leave the cooking to you from now on."

She sniffed, taking his hand instead. "That's better. Hey wait;" She angled her eyes up to him to gauge his response, "Does this mean the great Kyouya Ootori doesn't know how to cook?"

"It's... never been a necessary skill for me," he replied. He hated admitting to ignorance. "Perhaps you should add that to my list."

She squeezed his hand. "That one I don't know if I would be able to instruct you in. I only know how to do the most basic things," she smiled, head full of memories. "Mom would let me sit on the counter every once in a while, and just watch her work. It was so interesting." She re-threaded her fingers to interlock with his.

"'Interesting,' huh?" he asked, rubbing at the back of her hand softly. "Then, perhaps you wouldn't mind if I watched you? Or, would that spoil the surprise?"

She rolled her eyes. "There won't be much to watch, but you can if you want," she nudged him. "I might even let you stir it if you're really good."

He nudged her back. "An honor of the highest degree, I'm sure."

It occurred to him how oddly physical their relationship could be. Very out of character for himself. And yet-

He placed another kiss on her forehead.

They finally reached the kitchen, Haruhi's face still a bit red from his kiss, and all of her attention went to the beautiful, huge room. "Senpai," she breathed. "This is incredible." She'd only ever really seen Dad's apartment's kitchen; and this was nothing like that.

He looked around. He didn't often visit the kitchen in either house, but this one seemed rather small compared to what he remembered. Still, he couldn't imagine what all of this space was used for even on a busy day.

"I suppose so."

She let go of him, feeling as if her awe was completely correct in this situation. It seemed to be a fully stocked kitchen, in terms of needing any kind of utensil, or pan, or... whatever. She almost felt bad now about her saucepan and spoon. This kind of kitchen begged to be making fresh pasta, or something hoity-toity and French. "Can we really use this stuff?" she asked, pulling down the pan.

"Who else, if not us?" he asked as he inspected the row of pots hanging over the stove. He found one that seemed of appropriate size for her. "It does belong to my family, after all."

She shrugged. If he wanted her to trash this beautiful kitchen, who was she to say no? "May I have a soup spoon, please?" she asked, setting the pan down and cracking open the can. "Well, if anyone asks, you cooked in here, not me. My name's not Ootori, after all." The mixture splattered into the pan, clump at a time.

"I'm sure you won't be arrested for your first offense," he replied, picking through a well organized set of utensils in the drawer. Soup spoon, soup spoon. This one looked like a soup spoon. He offered it to her.

It wasn't, but who was she to complain? "Thank you." She proceeded to add water, then settled down to wait as it came together. "Would you mind finding some bowls too, Senpai?" Her mind was whirling, and she was trying to ignore the image of she and Senpai married, maybe with one on the way, cooking together in their own house. She pushed it away.

He'd been hiding a similar fantasy. Of course, it was still far too early in their relationship to be thinking of such things. He intended to focus on his studies before any ties were made. "Here you are." He placed two fancy bowls on the counter beside her workstation.

She brushed his hand instead of a 'thank you', humming a bit as she tested, then began to serve the dish. The soup was not meant to be for the eyes, but for the stomach, making it look extremely out of place in the elegant bowls. "Alright," she declared mildly, "I believe we can taste it now."

He offered her a tasting spoon, before leaning forward to give it a taste for himself. It didn't really have much flavor, compared to what he was used to. But, he enjoyed it all the same. "Not bad."

She turned off the burner, suddenly deciding to live on the edge and hoisted herself up the counter, skirt flailing miserably. "Cheap food like this is best eaten in interesting places, don't you think?"

He smirked. "I do," he replied, pulling himself up right next to her. This felt like such a childish thing to do... It was actually quite pleasant.

She sipped at the soup, obviously in need of some kind of nourishment after last night (and the night before, come to think of it), but too annoyed with her stomach in general to want to consume too much of it. She was mostly just thinking about how this counter could be one more place on the list of Weird Places Kyouya Takes Haruhi. How unsanitary. It was exhilarating. "How is it?"

"The best soup I've ever had." He was quite certain it was a completely psychological effect. First time Haruhi had made something for him. Inasmuch as heating the contents of a can was making something. But he wasn't going to let that stop him from enjoying it.

She smirked. "They say cooking for one's lover is quite romantic." She spread her hands a little. "Do I live up to the standards?"

"I would say so," he replied. "I may have to get rid of the rest of the kitchen staff."

She took a big bite of the mixture. "I dunno," she said from around it, "If I'm cooking all the time, I wouldn't have as much alone time with you." She swallowed, serenely looking up at him. "I don't know how I'd feel about that."

"You raise a very good point," he replied, between spoonfuls of soup. "I can't allow that."

She gave his thigh a little pat. "No you can't." She tipped the bowl back, drinking the broth greedily.

Well, when in Rome. He followed suit, downing the rest of his broth, as well. He reached over for a few of the kitchen towels, wiping his mouth with one and handing her the other.

Accepting it gratefully, she set down her dishes and hopped off the counter. "Well, do we have to do the dishes now, or can we go to the beach?" She was ready for some sun.

"Let's not waste time with hat just yet." He dropped the dishes in the sink. "We're on vacation, after all."

She grinned happily, slipping her arm through his. "I like vacation." While she didn't want to talk to anyone else today, she was beginning to get worried about what crazy stories Tamaki had come up with. Even after she'd told him they were fine. "Do you have your phone on you?" she asked, feeling as if they'd be less interrupted with it than without.

"I don't make a habit of swimming with it," he replied. "Are you worried about them?"

She sighed. "Kind of. They do have a habit of overreacting, after all."

He sighed. "I suppose we ought to say something before they send out a search team." He made his way back to his bedroom, scooping up his phone to glance over a few of the (no doubt ridiculous) messages.

Haruhi had waited for him, ending up on a short wander through the house. She uncovered a particularly girly room, smiling at the obvious Fuyumi everywhere. A large beach hat hung on one bedpost, calling for her. Okay. That might have to join them on the beach. She retraced her steps there, finding her way back to the foyer.

Kyouya was still thumbing at his phone, sending out explanations and supplications to each of the frantic members of his club. He told them that he was an business trip, and that he'd talked to Haruhi just this morning, and everything was fine, they were probably just annoying her.

They could be so high maintenance sometimes.

Wrapping her arms around him from behind, Haruhi's hat bumped into his back, bending up. "Are they okay?" she asked, peeking around his side.

He glanced back at her, somewhat dismayed the fact that the brim of this new hat blocked his view of her face. Although, it was charming in a way. "They'll be fine," he replied, snapping his phone shut. "Perhaps they'll learn something from this."

She snorted. "But probably not." She reached up to touch her brim. "Do you like the hat? I just found it."

He reached over to tilt the brim up, just enough that he could see her face. "It's very fitting for the beach."

She liked it. She smiled up at him, content in her wardrobe now. "Yeah. I hope Fuyumi doesn't mind me borrowing it."

"I'm sure she would encourage it," he replied, flashing briefly back to the days where she would invite over half a dozen other girls and flit about the mansion, when he would never see her in the same outfit twice. She loved dress up almost as much as Tamaki.

"Well, shall we? I wouldn't want to waste our precious sunshine."

"Let's." He took her hand, politely opening the door for her.

Their little soup excursion had given the sun time to rise, and warm the sand and shallows. Though, he wasn't quite ready for swimming just yet.

The sand was pleasant, especially only half-warmed as it was. The top layer was a bit hard from the day before, but underneath still held the chill of the night. Whatever. It would all mix together as she dug into, anyway. "Where should we put our towels?"

He took her towel, and hung the both of them over the railing on the porch, to keep them out of the sand. "I don't think we'll be needing them for a while."

She shrugged, squeezing his hand lightly. "Alright. I'll let you lead, then." She thumbed up her hat. "So, have you been coming here your whole life?"

"Every couple of years, yes," he replied. "I haven't been out here much since Fuyumi's marriage. I'm glad to see that it's getting use."

She snorted. "We're certainly fulfilling that, at least. Your entire family would come here?" Even with such a big house, it was hard to imagine all of the Ootoris just... sitting around. Together.

"Certainly not," he replied. They could hardly stand each other in the brief moments their lives overlapped at home. And Father was far too busy to bother with beach vacations. "I seem to recall us all coming down here once, a very long time ago, but that's it."

That made sense. It was comforting, in a way, to know his childhood hadn't been a stellar one, either. "So now it's the perfect getaway." She leaned into him happily. A shadow passed over her face, suddenly remembering, "Hey, Senpai? I hate to bring this up... but I need The Pill sometime today."

"Ah. yes." He opened his phone once more. He supposed he should have thought to pack those. He arranged to have them brought up before the end of the day.

She grinned. "Thanks. I appreciate it." They'd been walking down the beach, getting closer to the shore. "I just wanna put my feet in, okay?"

"You don't have to ask permission." He slid out of his shoes, leaving them up where they could stay dry.

She pushed off the hat, dragging his hand along to run for the water. "You know," she said breathlessly, letting the water cool her toes gradually, "I lost the race yesterday." She pursed her lips. "It's not fair for you to skip punishing the loser." She let go of his hand, skipping a few steps away, crouching down to pick up a shell.

"And what sort of punishment would you say is appropriate?" he asked. He followed her, bending over her to put his arms around her as she picked through the sand.

She held up three large shells, laughing. "You could make me wear these." The wind blew a little, dancing her hair around into her eyes.

He snickered. "Lovely though that may be, that hardly seems fitting to the crime, does it?"

She shrugged, tossing them one by one back out into the water. "Well, as the winner, you'll have to decide." She grazed her hand along the water, spraying a light splash at him.

He held up a hand, as though he could catch the briny water before it hit his face. "I feel as though I should add that to your sentence." He knelt, sending up another splash of water in her directions.

She squealed, waving her arms in defense. "Hey!" she protested, "That's cold!"

He grinned at her. "You did say I was to choose a punishment, didn't you?" He splashed her again, before darting off along the shore line, beyond her line of fire.

She set off chasing him, kicking up great (or not so much) splashes whenever he was even slightly in range. "You can't avoid me forever!" she declared, deciding split-second that she was close enough to pounce on him. "Gotcha!"

The attack caught him off guard. Despite his best efforts, he failed to catch her. She was hardly strong enough to knock him over, but he humored her, and went toppling into the surf. "Ah, I've trained you too well."

She could tell she hadn't actually 'gotten' him, but liked the view, and decided to ignore it. She touched his chest, laughing when she realized they were both still wearing their outer clothes, too. "I think we forgot something, eh?" She scooted off of him, reaching down for the hem of the shirt. "We could fix that."

"Maybe," he replied. He reached up to help her with her own clothes, as nice as she may have looked with them clinging to her body the way they were.

Tossing the shirt up to the sand, she grinned, the look of him all wet and shirtless. Running her fingers over his toned muscles, she asked, "So, are you glad you bought that shirt?" Her head nodded to the one he'd just removed from her.

"I think so," he replied. "Although, I must say, you look much better with it off."

She kicked the skirt off, too. "This too," she decided, tossing it aside as well.

"That too," he agreed. Regardless of what the twins said, he thought she looked fantastic in a swimsuit.

She grinned at him. "I like the beach," she mused, relaxing on the sand. "Senpai, what do normal people do on the beach?" She felt as if she would be content just laying here the rest of the day, though a few snuggles tossed in wouldn't hurt.

"Hm, I suppose they swim, or tan." He reached up to stroke her face. "Or they play volley ball. Some don't do anything at all."

She nuzzled into his hand, nosing for it not to leave. "Sounds wonderful. Is that what you like to do?"

"I suppose so, yes." To be honest, he would usually just go to the beach for a change of scenery, a background against which to study or plan. Having Haruhi here, suddenly 'normal' beach activities seemed pleasant, not like the waste of time he used to think of them as.

The water felt wonderful, washing up against her knees like that. She had the sudden mental image of Senpai holding her against him, out where she couldn't quite touch, and kissing her breathless. As it was, the sunshine was quite inviting, at least. "Well," she decided, "I'm up for anything."

He wasn't sure he was ready to move from this spot just yet. But, of course, one couldn't bore a lady. "Why don't we get a bit more practice in?"

"Alright," she agreed, admiring the calm sea, "The water does look pretty nice."

It was, indeed, much calmer today than it was the previous night. The waves still gently tugged at around their ankles. "Very much so."

She looked up at him, watching his unmoving form for a second. "You seem to want to swim quite a bit, Senpai," she sighed loudly, reclining against the wet sand happily. "If you make me wait much longer, you'll have to wake me up."

"I do apologize for keeping you up so late," he replied with a devilish grin. "But, what is the weekend without a bit of fun?" He sat up with a bit of a sigh. "Well, I can't have you falling asleep."

She smiled with the sun on her closed eyes. "I might be too cute that way; I've heard that watching your lover sleep can be very therapeutic."

"Oh, it is," he replied, recalling the many times he'd awoken before her and simply watched her face. Or the times she'd fallen asleep waiting for him to finish his work for the day, collapsed on the couch and looking so peaceful. 'Therapeutic' was a good word for it.

Her smile widened at the thought of his testing of that particular theory without her knowledge. She stretched, sitting up to pull her eyes open. "Well, I can't get you too relaxed then, can I?" She ran a finger over his arm. "At least, not yet. Anyway, you have things to teach me."

"Yes, I suppose I do," he took her hand. "Although, you seem to be handling swimming quite well. I'm not sure there's much left for me to teach you."

Reaching up to kiss his chin, she shrugged. "Well, we're here. We might as well get a little wet."

"I'd say we've done a fairly good job of that so far." He brushed a bit of the sand off of his arm as the two of them descended into the deeper, bluer waters.

She snorted, submerging to her nose. It was actually starting to get a little hot out here. "Let's play Death Questions!" she suggested suddenly, pursing her lips and circling her arms to stay afloat.

"'Death Questions?'" he replied, reclining back to float beside her. "Intriguing. What might that be?"

She had no idea if people actually played it, but she'd overheard a couple engaging in it (and a few other things), in the courthouse when she was little. She'd always thought it sounded fun to have someone who knew you so well. "Well, you'd ask a question about yourself to me. If I don't get it right, that's one point for you, and whomever accumulates five points first," she drew a line over her throat, "loses."

An interesting learning experience, to say the least. "Alright then. Why don't you start?" Ask me."

She ducked under the water to wet her hair before starting. "Okay. What is my favorite food?"

"Eating isn't your favorite activity." He replied. "However, I do recall you quite enjoyed the ice cream the twins bought for you. Is that right?"

She didn't warm at the attention to detail; she had a game to win, after all. (Although, she did file it away closely for inspection tonight) "Yes. I would have also accepted ootoro. Senpai, that ice cream was really good. We should get some sometime."

"We should," he replied.

He thought about a question for her. "Which is my best subject?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's easy. You're an all A's student, but you enjoy the math-related classes most. Duh."

He chuckled. "I thought I might start with something easy," he replied. "I shall try not to repeat my mistake."

She lazed back into the water. "Try not to. What is the last book I read?"

"We've been going through my third year medical textbook together," he replied. "You've been perusing it on your own as of late, haven't you?"

He did have a very sharp memory. "Yes. Although I don't get very far on my own." She waved her hand through the water, sending a small current at him.

"Hm. Perhaps I should have brought it with us." Although, he doubted they would have much time for reading today. "I carry a ledger with me. What do I write in it?"

Her face immediately contorted in confusion. "Your book?" She'd never seen inside of it properly. "...Records. You keep the money accounts for the club in there." Right?

He gave her a little smirk. "That's a point for you," he replied.

Her mouth dropped open a bit, desperately trying to come up with the correct answer. "That's practically cheating," she sighed. "Fine." She floated nearer to him. "Do I like kisses or bites better?" A coy smile flitted across her lips.

Well, that one came out of nowhere. She seemed to kiss quite a bit more than bite... but perhaps she expected him to do the biting? He decided to tread cautiously. "It's a trick question." He replied. "You like both."

She sighed dramatically, holding up a finger. "Aha, but there is one I prefer. That's a point for you."

"May I ask what that preference might be?" he asked, setting aside the game for just a moment.

She lazily flipped around in the water, enjoying the cool waves. "I don't think it would be fair to just give that away, would it?" She shot him a knowing smile. "Anyway, wouldn't it be more fun to find out yourself?"

"You raise a valid point," he answered with a grin. "Very well. You may keep your secrets. Which of your cosplays is my favorite?"

"Let's see," she mused, counting on her fingers, "Recently we've done pirates, superheroes, Wonderland, traditional kimonos... although I remember you watching me quite closely with my pirate corset. So I'll have to do with that."

He reminisced briefly on that corset. It was a very nice outfit, though it hardly emphasized her best feature. He preferred something that showed up her legs a little. "You're very close, but I'll have to say no."

Her eyes flicked up curiously. "Well, I'd love to encore the one you're thinking of." She ran a hand over her wet hair. "If you don't mind it getting a bit dirty, that is. What's my favorite cosplay of yours?"

'Dirty,' eh? No, he wouldn't mind that one bit. But they could iron out the details later. "Hm. You seem a bit of a traditionalist," he pondered aloud. "Could it be the tuxedos?"

She shivered, the feeling of that rich fabric ghosting under her nerves. She'd forgotten about that one. She pulled herself closer to him. "I like your bad cop," she said bluntly, "but that one definitely takes a close second. I think that means it's two to two. Do you wanna just play to three for now?"

"That sounds fair," he replied. Still, he felt he deserved that one. But he wasn't going to argue. "What do I intend to major in in college?"

She frowned. He intended to take his father's company, she knew that. But they'd never really gotten the chance to discuss much further than that. "..Business." Was that too broad? He was going to be a successful businessman, after all.

He chuckled. "Alright, I'll give you that one," he replied. He supposed he should have been more specific with his question. There might also have been a small part of him that wanted to let her win.

Her smile soft, she found his hand and twined hers through it. "I didn't use something something for about a decade. What was it?"

Well, that could have meant anything. He knew she was referring to her life as a slave. Slaves were denied multiple rights. Cars, kisses, proper nutrition. One thing in particular jumped out at him. "A bed?"

Another finger ticked up. A slightly sadder smile claimed her victory. "A name. I win."

He frowned. A Pyrrhic victory by any means. He tried not to dwell on it,. lest she do the same. "I suppose you do. Congratulations." He reached out to pull her close. "What sort of prize do you win?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck gently. "Say my name." One hand fingered the little hairs on his neck. "Please?"

"You don't need to win that right. Haruhi." He said her name very deliberately, slowly and breathy. He trailed a hand along her arm. "Not ever."

She leaned into him. His voice made her name sound regal, rich. "You like my name?"

"It's a beautiful name, Haruhi," he replied. But not as beautiful as it's owner. "It's perfect for you."

One finger traced along his spine, up and down. "I like your name too; Kyouya Ootori," she breathed his name reverently. "Kyouya." No matter how she said it, it still sounded cunning, intelligent. Just like him.

"Thank you, Haruhi," he replied. He lay his forehead against hers, his hand sliding from her arm to her hand, running his thumb along her fingers.

She laughed quietly in the proximity. "Did you ever expect to have a girlfriend who was so easy to please?" Her other hand had come up to stroke his jaw, leaving a trail of water in its wake.

"No, I suppose not," he replied, visions of bratty airheads chosen for breeding before compatibility he always expected to have. The thought of settling for that now was, well, almost unbearable. "Nor one so intelligent."

She sighed against him. His hugs were therapeutic. "Intelligent enough to get excited over her own name? I must make up for that somewhere, I hope."

"That's hardly a sign of unintelligence," he replied. Actually, he found it somewhat endearing. "You appreciate the smaller things. It's quite different in this world."

"Thank you. You make it quite easy with how you spoil me." She leaned to give him a quick kiss. "You know, I would never fault you for taking back what's yours. Until my debt's paid, I don't really own anything."

"While you may be in my debt," He brought his arms up around her shoulders. "You are my lady before my slave."

She flushed, any admission on his part still completely breathtaking and a bit baffling. She wrapped her legs around his torso for balance, in a pseudo-hug. "Well, either way, you are entirely too good for me. Next you'll be giving me money!" She pet the scruff on his neck tenderly, brushing all she could reach gently.

"Maybe I will," he replied with a chuckle. "Of course I expect to be paid back. Perhaps I could set up an expense account." He tapped at her nose teasingly.

She chuckled. "That sounds like a lot more things I'd have to learn." What on earth was an expense account? "Though I'm sure you'd be just the right person to teach me." She leaned in a bit, hovering closer to his mouth, just in case.

"I am quite well versed in the area of finances," he replied, his lips tickling at hers as he spoke. He focused on her eyes, lids low in the warm sun. He pushed just a bit closer, their lips finally touching.

She leaned into the kiss, nibbling on his lips after a moment. Even though she'd asked that question about biting in reference to herself, she was quite curious to see properly what his reaction was. Her arms slipped up to grasp his shoulders.

His lips curled into a grin between her lips. So, she liked biting then, did she? He pulled back, freeing his lips to return the gesture. Not to hard, just enough to spark a little reaction.

Biting tingled. She'd almost immediately made a tiny noise of satisfaction, which obviously gave away her preference. Even if she liked both. She licked along his lip before pulling away slightly, leaning her forehead to his and talking almost on his mouth, "You are quite well versed in plenty of other areas too, Kyouya Ootori."

Ah, there it was. He filed that fact away for a later use. "Or perhaps I'm just very good at improvising."

Their movement had sent a little spray of water onto her face. Licking the saltwater off her mouth before answering, "If that was improvisation, I would love to see how you preform things you know how to do." She wanted to kiss him again, already, but just let her mouth stay a few inches away.

"I learn more every day," he replied. He hoped he would be able to impress her, one day. She was, after all, very knowledgeable.

She was about to lean in, tease him with her breath, when she heard a distance voice carry to her. She turned to shore, trying to make out who would be yelling so loudly on a private beach. "Senpai," she squinted, "That's not... "

"That can't be Tamaki, can it?"

Slowly, like a corpse in rigor mortise, he pulled his arms away from her. He hoped not. He prayed not. He turned his head towards the beach, squinting his unassisted eyes in the direction of the new voice.

The call was clearer this time, a specific name bellowed out across the sand. Haruhi sighed, thinking how sexy her name had sounded not five minutes ago, and now it was like answering a death call. "Come on, Senpai," she said, taking his hand to lead him to the surf. "Looks like we're needed."

The owner of the voice was accompanied by a few others. Hikaru was paging through an article in one of the gossip rags, showing the pictures eagerly to his brother. The fact that his... (crush!) friend was with another of his friends (INSTEAD OF HIM), was back seat to the delicious shots of her body and expression. "Looks like somebody's gettin' busy~!" he sang.

"What are you on about?" He sloshed up onto the shore, squinting at the magazine in the twin's hand. Perhaps he should have kept his glasses on. "And just what are you doing here to begin with?"

Tamaki was red with fury. "Kyouya Ootori!" He snatched the magazine from Hikaru's snickering hands and waved it in front of Kyouya's face. "You besmirched her honor, didn't you?!" He noticed Haruhi's... attire, turning a deep color. "How can you even live with yourself?" He slipped off his summer vest to put around her shoulders.

Haruhi strained to see what he was talking about. She liked her honor. She thought it was fine.

Hikaru laughed. "Yeah, Kyouya-Senpai. You two seem to be quite... intimate, huh?"

Well, now that it was close enough that he could smell he dried ink, Kyouya could see exactly what they were talking about. He snatched the magazine out of his friend's hand. "Who the hell took these?"

Uh-oh. Haruhi hadn't heard his angry voice in a while. "Senpai?" she asked, tugging on his arm to pull the pictures into view. Her stomach dropped. The headline was blaringly loud, declaring, "Have the Ootori's Started Taking in Trash?" The second picture down had a grainy, zoomed in shot of her lower back, the brand just peeking out.

Hikaru gave Haruhi a thumbs up. "I told you you'd look irresistible in that suit, didn't I?"

Tamaki held out an arm for Haruhi to lean on, her face a bit white. "The paparazzi is everywhere, Kyouya," he said, his voice still angry, but not as loud. "You should know that."

He shoved the magazine back into the blonde's hands. "Thank you," he replied brusquely. Of course, he couldn't be upset at Tamaki for this. It wasn't his fault he had to keep this little affair secret.

"Well. This wasn't how I intended this debut to go. But I suppose you all know now."

Hikaru's mouth dropped open a bit. "Wait, that can't be right. The magazine's always get it wrong... right?"

Oohhhhh this was so bad. Ootori-San had no reason keep her around now. He would sell her, no matter what Kyouya said. It was going to be back to her old life, in the process of ruining the only person who had ever cared enough about her to even use her name. "Kyouya...?" she asked, her knees a bit weak.

He put an arm around Haruhi, pulling her close. "I'm telling you, because I expect you to help me defuse this situation, should it become a problem." He looked to Tamaki. Even if the rest of the club condemned them for this, he couldn't turn them away... could he?

She hugged the vest around her, shivering a bit. "I can... at least be hospitable, right? Let's go inside, Senpai. I'll make tea for everyone."

Tamaki blushed at the pictures, closing the magazine to the risque front cover. It was almost worse with this picture instead of the others.

"A good idea." Kyouya replied. He wasn't exactly comfortable with these guys seeing her so scantily clad, anyways. "Won't you come inside?" he asked, motioning towards the beach house.

Hikaru shrugged, going to put his arm across Haruhi's shoulders (no matter if Senpai's was there first or not), feeling her fragile little shoulder happily. "Sure. Ya know Kyouya, our Mom has a ton of sample clothes that would look spectacular on Haruhi." He squeezed her, looking up to wink at Kyouya. "And there was an entire line of lingerie she's just got cluttering up some drawer."

Haruhi tensed. This whole thing was going to be awkward.

Kaoru gave his brother a harsh nudge. "Hikaru, now isn't the time," he whispered. He glanced at Haruhi. So, she was a slave, then? He really hoped Kyouya explained all of this soon.

Kyouya grabbed his glasses and towel on his way into the house. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

Hikaru removed his arm, sulking a bit. Those two been keeping secrets, hadn't they? They could at least lighten up a little. Whatever. It wasn't like he was being bitter or anything. He could make any snarky comment he wanted and it wouldn't mean anything.

They reached the house, and Haruhi slipped off to find a cover up. "I'll be right back, Senpai," she murmured. "You all can go sit down if you want. Can I bring you a shirt or something?"

"I'll take care of it." He hadn't put his clothes away last night. His bag was still sitting on the parlor floor. He fished something out of it, sliding it on.

Kaoru shuffled his feet, cleared his throat. "So? Is this legit?" He motioned to the magazine in Tamaki's hands.

"Parts of it are, no doubt," he replied.

Haruhi changed quickly, slipping on a long shirt-dress she didn't recognize. She took a few deep breaths, trying not to panic.

Tamaki held out the magazine, not wanting to even touch it anymore. "The whole article is disgusting. You should probably read it, Kyouya." Although it kinda sounded like one of Renge's doujins in a few places.

He reached out for the magazine, giving the article a quick skim. Highly sensationalized, with far to much speculation to be considered credible. However. That didn't mean that the rumor wasn't a threat.

"It's not irreversible."

Haruhi turned on the tea kettle to warm up before slipping back into the parlor with the rest of them. The implication of anyone else finding out her past was making her itchy, and she almost felt as if she should go sit at Senpai's feet. It took all she had to curl up on the sectional next to him instead.

She cleared her throat, wondering if she should explain/if she could explain. Tamaki sent her a comforting smile.

Hikaru sat down next to his brother. "Alright, we're all here. What's going on?"

He tossed the magazine onto the coffee table with a sigh. Lacing his fingers in Haruhi's, he began. "While it's true that Haruhi used to be indentured. She is, however, no longer considered a slave."

Hikaru scratched at his forehead absently. "Not to sound mean, but how on earth did you even... meet... her, Kyouya-Senpai?"

Haruhi felt a bit hot. Was it hot in here? Maybe it was the heat outside. She wiggled in her seat, curling closer in on Kyouya.

He moved his hand from hers, instinctively putting it around her. He shifted. Being so intimate while people were watching... it didn't feel right. But he felt she needed it right now. "Happenstance," he replied. They didn't need the details.

"He rescued me," she offered quietly, brushing her drying fringe from her face.

Tamaki leaned forward. "And now you're recovering right, Haruhi?" he smiled at her.

Hikaru frowned. "Recovering from what? Senpai, she's indentured to you? Is that why..." he motioned at the magazine.

"No," Kyouya replied with a very controlled temper. "She's working at the Host Club to repay her debt to me. As I said, she is no longer a slave."

"So, what's with..." Kaoru also motioned to the magazine. He couldn't really bring himself to say it.

"Who she chooses to pursue relationships with is her choice now," he replied.

Kaoru seemed skeptical, to say the least.

Hikaru's heart sank a bit. He scowled, leaning over to his brother to comment, "Stockholm Syndrome, anyone?"

Haruhi reached to pull the magazine up to her lap. The picture on the front was... nothing less than horrifically embarrassing. They'd never been intimate before this weekend, and already anyone could just go look to see any little kiss. It was awful. She read it over for a second. "Kyouya, this is worse than the fangirls." She turned worried eyes to his. "What is your father going to say?"

Kyouya rubbed at his forehead. "He won't be happy. But the situation isn't beyond salvage." He glanced at the magazine. "The image is grainy. The scar could easily be passed off as shopped. Sleazy gossip articles aren't above alterations to cause a scandal."

Hikaru rubbed his chin, putting his arm around Kaoru. "Actually, there's a very easy way to get around this. Which I'm sure precious Senpai's already thought of, right?"

Haruhi frowned. "What are you talking about?" Why was he being so snippy?

"And what might you be thinking of?" Kyouya asked, his voice low. If he even thought about asking him to sell Haruhi, he was going to personally escort him off of this property.

Hikaru ran his fingers along Kaoru's neck teasingly. "She's got a tattoo. That's all you'd have to say, right? To make it legit, just get her a tattoo, Senpai. Then she could prove she wasn't lying to the press."

Haruhi raised an eyebrow. That wasn't such a bad idea but... "Hikaru, I'm right here. You don't have to address my matters to Senpai."

He looked to Haruhi. "The idea has merit, if you're comfortable with it."

"Get something fashionable," Kaoru added.

Her fingers flexed nervously. A tattoo. It's not like the pain would be anything she hadn't done before. "If..." She paused. This might fix everything. The media would leave them alone then, at least for now. "Yes. I would do it." For Senpai.

Tamaki was a little taken aback. "My darling girl, with a permanent mark on her precious body?"

Kyouya wasn't going to bring up the fact that there was already one there. One which carried far more weight than a tattoo ever would. "Very well. I'll have arrangements made."

Hikaru leaned forward. "We'll all come, then. To support you, Haruhi."

Haruhi smiled faintly. "I appreciate it. Senpai, we need to do this as soon as possible."

"We could have it done before the end of the day," he replied. He stood to find his phone. He didn't much care for the rest of the club intruding on such a private affair... But he supposed that was the price he paid for his constant carelessness.

He would have to hunt down that publisher and assure that incidents like this didn't happen in the future.

Her stomach was flip-flopping a bit. The thought of going into the seedy underbelly of the city to have someone needle her was a bit dizzying. She really hated needles. And people touching her. "The sooner the better," she said, fingers reaching up to twirl her hair.

The kettle began to whistle. "Aha," Tamaki said, standing, "I'll get the tea, Haruhi." He winked at her as he left. The thought of Haruhi's willingness to undergo something like this made him a bit queasy, but then again anything regarding her past did. He wanted to help though, and this was the least he could do for his precious little girl!

Of course Kyouya had far better connections than that. He wasn't going to have any old amateur touching her with his, no doubt, hepatitis infected needles and spotty skills. The very thought of it made his skin itch. "Are you sure you're alright with this?"

He couldn't keep asking her to make decisions because of his needs.

She knew she couldn't take this lightly. No matter what, this was going to follow her forever, whether she liked it or not. It was something she couldn't just agree to without thought, but the more she thought the more sure of herself she became. Tamaki reentered, serving the dizzied lady a warm cup of tea. She warmed her hands gratefully, forgetting her earlier chill. "Yes. It's a good idea, Senpai. I can do this."

He sighed. "Very well." He stepped outside of the room to make the call.


A/N

AHH I'm so bad I'm sorry!

I won't make excuses, but I will apologize for the delay! Life and business and I'll haul butt to work on editing the next few.

Things:

Unforunately, this story is going to be coming to some kind of an end soon(ish). This story, as you may know, was a roleplay my roleplay partner and I did up until like, March. Since then we've been playing around with another (very similar!) muse, and I've been expanding my headcanons for Kyouya and Haruhi's married life in a much-closer-to-canon universe. I could post the other roleplay, if you guys are interested. I also might start a collection of Ootori family! one shots, since I have so many little muses for them.

Up to interested parties~

Anyway, if you're super bored or just want to bug me about updating, my tumblr is the place to message me. (Come on anon and capslock me to get the next chapter out!) It's hannan-bookey, though I've probably told you guys to come say hi before. : )

Snuggles!

Hannah