Kiss
Chapter 6: Be Mine
Author's Disclaimer: As a general warning, I did not do a lot of research into Japanese weddings, so there could inaccuracies in how their wedding day proceeds. I hope you'll enjoy that scene regardless.
Also, another reminder that there will be some sexy times depicted in this chapter.
I hope you enjoy this final chapter!
For the first week after that, each night ends with a similarly soft kiss.
That kiss and their friends' approval is the only thing that stays the same. All around them, news of their relationship gets out, and everyone at work is happy for him. At parties, everyone congratulates them. Even his family contacts him on this occasion.
The biggest surprise is one week after the party. He is on his way home when his father calls.
After the initial greeting, his father jumps right to the chase. "Son, you have made good choices of late. You have a bright future ahead of you with your career and chosen partner. You've been working a long time to win her. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you," states Kyoya, taken aback but feeling brave, "but I'm not looking for your approval anymore."
"I can tell. We'll be in touch."
With that, his father ends the call, and Kyoya is a swirling mess of emotions, forced to close his eyes as he tries to understand what just happened. By the time he walks inside their home, his hair is askew. Haruhi notices at once and goes to him.
"What happened?" she queries, palming his cheek.
He deflates in front of her. "My father called. He's proud of me, and I don't know how to feel," he says honestly.
"Let's sit." Hand going to his back, she leads him to a sofa, where they both sit. "You don't have to feel only one thing. It can be many things. Everything is complicated involving him," she reminds him softly.
"Of all the things that earn a phone call and praise, dating you is what does it. I wouldn't have guessed," he states, feeling weak as he presses shaky fingers to her lips and face. "But you certainly deserve it."
"You've deserved it for some time now," she insists, capturing his face and leading him to her cheek to rest there. "You don't have to be strong always. I'm here."
That's all he needs to hear, and he gives in to her gentle persuasion, straddling her and laying his cheek against hers. As soon as he closes his eyes, peace and clarity finally come.
"Thank you. I feel so lost," he confesses, curling his hands around hers. "Why is it never for my work? Why not any other part of my life?" He pauses, not expecting an answer, and she waits, squeezing his fingers. She knows he needs to say this, these questions that have plagued him for so long, and he appreciates that. "I don't understand. I'm happy, but also sad, upset, confused, and everything in between. I don't know how to take this."
"You don't have to choose one feeling; just accept his praise. You deserve it. Even if you no longer actively seek it, you still crave it."
She's right, even if he doesn't want to admit it. "It feels like a weakness to accept it."
"No," she disagrees, turning his head. "It makes you human."
As he stares into her understanding eyes, he sees the truth that he's been trying to ignore. "I'm afraid to accept it. I don't want him to gain a foothold on me again."
"He won't," she replies, running both hands along his cheeks. "You're stronger than that. You've learned, and I'm here to help."
The sensation of her warm fingertips stirs emotions within him. He feels safe and seen here, appreciated and listened to. "It hasn't been easy; it's all because of you. All of this only makes sense with you," he admits, letting her comfort him.
"You're not losing me," she whispers before kissing him.
This time, when her fingers leave trails of fire along his cheeks, he grinds his hips against her, his love for her taking a different form. Within seconds, she breaks the kiss, even if she holds him against her still.
The devotion in her eyes speaks volumes. "I'm still not used to you being so attracted to me." Her stomach growls. "We should eat. We can discuss this more at dinner and afterward."
Over their quick supper, he tells her about his day and recites the conversation he had with his father.
"I'm proud of you for saying that to him," she says as she finishes the dishes from eating. "Let's go sit."
Nodding, he waits for her to sit, and then he takes up his earlier spot on her lap. As soon as he settles, she smiles softly and runs her hands through his hair, guiding him toward her as she does so. Their cheeks meet, and he embraces her, grateful for the support.
"How do you feel now?" she prompts.
"Better. Always better with you," he says, getting comfortable.
"Besides related to me," she clarifies, shaking her head.
He grins and faces her. "Still unsettled, but overall happy. It's not often he is proud of me. I wish I understood his reasoning."
"You probably never will. Maybe once you become a father yourself, but even so, you're different from him," she says, comforting him. "He pushes you, but doesn't understand how far is too far. You do. You add a humane element that your father lacks since you have experienced what it's like without it."
"That wouldn't be possible without you and Tamaki pushing me," he says, pressing a light kiss to her neck. "You're shown me it's okay to feel and be honest." Another kiss. "You've shown me I deserve to be seen and heard." A kiss and cheek against her neck. "Most importantly, I can be vulnerable with you; I don't trust many others."
"I value your trust and honesty," she says, wrapping her arms around him. "I want to know you and for you to tell me more."
"You know enough related to this topic," he states, kissing the smooth column of her neck and letting all thoughts of his father disappear. "I've thought enough about him. I want to focus on you…on us."
Letting out a shaky breath, she grips him tighter and responds, "Okay."
Her hands guide him lower, and he kisses down her neck, each inch of skin precious and delicate. Since her hair is down, he grasps it all before gently pulling down so he can see her neck fully extended. She opens eagerly to him, and he is in awe of her, breath catching at her simple beauty.
After drinking in the sight of her, he returns to his new favorite task, kissing and tasting every inch of bare skin she has. When he gets to the first button of her blouse, he doesn't resist the temptation to unbutton the shirt once. As soon as he plants a soft kiss there at the revealed skin, she whimpers and moves against him, hips meeting his and cheek against the top of his head. The effect is electrifying, every nerve on fire for her, and he undoes another button, hardening as soon as he kisses this new skin as well.
"Ky-Kyoya," she stutters, breath catching when his arousal presses against her.
He's always longed to hear his name on her lips, especially with such passion. He groans as their bodies move in tandem, and he works another button free, kissing every inch of skin he can find. Each bit of porcelain skin attracts him, smooth and cool against him, which only makes his blood warm more. Just as he's about to go for another button, she stops him with a firm hand, lifting his chin.
"You think I'm beautiful," she starts, more as a statement than a question.
"Yes, of course," he replies without thinking, eyes unflinching. "You've always been. You were adorable with those eyes of yours from the beginning, and I unconsciously sought out other women who looked like you."
With a long exhale, she eyes him, and he can see uncertainty and fear there, as well as a certain amount of awe. He's touched upon some insecurity of hers, and he's determined to find and banish it, lifting up and running fingers along her jaw.
"What is it?" he demands. "Why are you hesitant and afraid?"
She straightens her back. "I'm not afraid," she returns indignantly, giving him a look.
Raising an eyebrow, he meets her gaze until she squirms slightly. "You stopped me. Why do so otherwise, and then immediately make a comment about your beauty?"
Huffing in annoyance, she explains, "I'm not afraid…anymore." As soon as he gives her an encouraging look to continue and takes one of her hands, her straight back bends. "You know how I feel about appearances."
"I do," he agrees with a small nod. "It's what's on the inside that counts. Your actions and character speak for themselves."
She smiles a little wider. "Yes. I never worried about my appearance until I asked about clothing to wear for my first internship. I know it was meant in a joking way, and I took it like that…at first. The social debt was silly but useful in that respect."
"I'm glad. That was the point," he says, widening his hands to cup her whole face. "But your feelings about appearances changed."
"They did," she affirms, eyes soft and the lightest brown, "the repeated little jabs at first not meaning much until women at the office and parties kept bringing up looks and always being impressed by my designer outfits. It hit home in a big way when I went shopping with you, though."
With a soft inhale, he squeezes her hand, remembering the occasion clearly. "Was it their marked behavior that changed between us?"
"To a degree, but more so that it seemed unlikely, even impossible, that we could be together, friends or otherwise," she answers, frowning. "I was invisible, and normally, I like to be. But it was different that day. I wanted to be seen with you; in a small way, all their unconscious behavior made me wonder about you and why you would want to be seen with me. I was your friend, but was I embarrassing you since you were always pointing things out to me?"
"Never," he insists, letting go of her hand to cup her face. Kissing her, he adds, "I've always been proud to be with you. I just know what society expects, and I want you to achieve your goals."
"You've always given me that impression," she clarifies, smiling, "even if you were annoyed that I didn't care. You always wanted me to succeed."
He touches the tip of his nose to hers. "That will never change; I will do all in my power to help, even if it means I must schmooze with others."
Wrinkling a brow, she narrows her focus onto him. "I'd rather you didn't. That shopping trip was torture, and our social outings are much more satisfying when we can talk."
He can't help a small grin and teasing tone. "So you're jealous."
"I am not," she retorts, giving him a cross look before leaning back.
"It's okay if you are. I used to get irrational thoughts often when you were around certain men; thankfully you're very good at dismissing them quickly with your usual behavior. Now, I'm not worried," he states, scooching toward her.
The tension in her body starts to melt, and her legs spread slightly, inviting him closer. As his blood heats up and he ignores all thoughts of sex for the moment, he focuses on her face, at how she is lit up right now.
"Even at those first parties we attended together?" she questions, eyes growing softer as he closes the distance.
"Especially then," he whispers, kissing her cheek. "I wanted to steal you away from all of them. Torture was all I knew. Why could they talk to you when they didn't know or care about you, while I did know you and desired more time to chat?"
Her hands urge him lower. "It's a little mind-boggling, but thank you. Upon further reflection, I think back then, when shopping, I was jealous," she says, sighing happily as he kisses her jaw slowly. "I didn't know what it was, and I think it only grew over time. The more I spent time with you and learned to like and respect you, the more that feeling grew."
"I'm glad I wasn't alone in feeling that," he says, laying pecks on her chin.
"Everything you did made me like you more; the problem was that the more I talked to coworkers, the more they gossiped about you." Pausing, he looks up in confusion, and she purses her lips. She clears it up by explaining, "They couldn't understand how I knew you, why you would spend time with me given all the other women you had associated with in your past."
Groaning, he climbs into her lap. "I'm sorry."
With a gentle shake of her head, she smiles. "Don't be. I needed to see society for what it was, and while it negatively affected how I felt about myself around you, it forced me to do more about appearances so I could succeed in my job."
"Good," he replies, grateful for that at least. His eyes close, and he hums appreciatively when she runs her hands along his neck.
"I also learned about every past girlfriend you had since they seemed to show up at all those parties, and I was a little in awe of them, as put-together and socially loved as they were," she goes on, not stopping her slow movements. "I didn't understand why you didn't go back to them."
Things suddenly make more sense why she behaved oddly at past parties.
"My heart was already long gone when I met all those women," he says, placing one of her hands over his heart. Opening his eyes, he looks deeply into her orbs, needing her to see the truth. "By then, I saw no one but you." He kisses her again. "I've always thought you were beautiful. Why else do you think all the women looked the same? I have a type."
Her eyes focus on something far away until she remembers one particular thing, and her mouth drops. When her gaze returns to him, she states, "You're right. I never noticed before. Same color eyes and hair, slight build, and everything."
He nods, glad she sees. "I know what I want: you."
Confidence fills her as her shoulders straighten. "And I want you," she replies, hugging him to her. "No wonder you were always so willing to talk to me."
"There's so much more I want to do with you…when you're ready," he says, running his fingers through her soft, straight hair.
"Thank you. I want this, but I'm not sure how much more than this right now," she says with uncertainty.
"We don't have to go further," he says, silently scolding himself for getting too carried away as they pull apart.
Her smile gets bigger. "I appreciate it. Soon, I do want more. I want to get over this …whatever it is," she explains helplessly. "I want intimacy like this."
"So do I. I crave it," he admits, taking her jaw in his hands. "You have no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed. I love you." As her breath hitches in surprise, he regrets nothing. Warmth unfurls within him at finally being able to admit the truth he has been holding onto for so long. "Just as you are. You deserve this affection and love just as much as I do. You've taught me that well over the course of our friendship."
"Good." Her eyes soften, and she seems relieved. "Because you do."
For the rest of the night, they cuddle and chat. Cuddling becomes one of their favorite activities as their hands tentatively explore the other while talking. He moves slowly with her, always looking for clues if he can do more, and he makes it a point to compliment her more frequently. Between the lingering hands and gazes and his words of praise, she blossoms before him.
At least that part of his life is going well. There are growing pains with the new lawyer, and more complications from outside the company to contend with that make work challenging, so when the third quarter earnings come out, everything is much lower. No word comes from his family, but he can feel his father's disapproval and high expectations combining with his own to leave him crushed.
Haruhi calls him as soon as she hears. "I know how you feel right now. Don't beat yourself up," she says by way of greeting. "We'll talk at home, alright?" When he comes home that night, dinner is ready, and she eagerly embraces him. "You've been beating yourself up."
"It was hard not to," he admits, sitting down so they can eat right away. "We did poorly."
"Your company is still new; it was bound to happen. Cut yourself some slack. Why do you put all these expectations on yourself?" she asks as she devours her food.
"My father did, so I do as well. I hold myself to the highest standards. It's expected as an Ootori. Plus–"
He stops himself because the rest of what he has to say will sound silly to her ears when she hears it. He already knows it, even if it does still matter to him.
"Plus what?" she prompts, pausing her slurping. "Tell me."
"If I'm not successful, how can I prove myself? What merit do I bring?" he asks, stopping his movements. "What do I contribute to our relationship?"
If he does not work, he would feel like a failure, like he is less of a man. It would bring dishonor to him and to the family name, and he would not be able to do his part in their relationship. At the head level, he knows this is the wrong way of thinking, but he hasn't been able to truly internalize it.
She sighs and rises from the table, and he gets up as well, knowing this next exchange is inevitable and probably something he needs to hear.
"Listen," she starts, cupping his face. "You contribute to this relationship just by being you, by being with me. Remember that." Her eyes narrow. "The work your company is doing is great, but that's not why I'm with you. I'm here because I love you."
Suddenly, his whole world shifts. He feels like he could fly, as light as he feels. Not only that, but stronger than he ever thought possible. She loves him. Him! A smile spreads across his whole face, and she kisses him to cement the words.
"I think I've loved you for some time without realizing it," she confesses against his cheek. "No matter how the company performs, I will still love you. Besides, you'll find some other way to do something good. You always do. You have a good heart."
"Thank you," he replies, choking up. "I love you, too."
Suddenly, he's not hungry anymore. All he wants is to do is sit with her and dive into their shared feelings. Not only that, but his mind immediately jumps to the next big step: marriage. There are people to contact, and he needs to find the best way to propose. Most importantly, he needs a ring. He'll need to figure out her finger size, but as he looks into her eyes, he knows that must wait. He is getting ahead of himself and not focused on the present.
She pats his cheek indulgently. "You're happy and still thinking too much. Let's finish eating."
"Quickly," he adds, and she nods her agreement.
While they finish eating, he speaks of more of his concerns, and she listens. As soon as they finish, both stand at the same time and head to their preferred spots on the sofa to sit. As soon as he's seated, she settles in his lap, content to lay against his chest while he wraps his arms around her. This time, though, it's special. Different because she loves him. All this love he's been harboring is now requited, and it gives him more energy than he knows what to do with, so he caresses her arms lovingly.
Normally, they talk and cuddle, but not this time. Both are quiet, savoring the moment, and he feels content. Even peaceful. Now, even if his work goes up in flames, he has her. As long as he has her, he can do anything. Survive anything.
They sit for a long time like that, and over time, he watches Haruhi loosen up. She has a soft side, but with the way she grew up, always having to be an adult, she got used to being independent. They're both bad at asking for help, but now, especially in the last couple years, he's been allowed glimpses of the softer side she hides from all. Doing everything is what she is used to, but with him, she knows that he has it under control. That he will take care of her. And because of that, she opens up to him in a way few will ever see.
Some days, he is the one having the rough day and needs comfort. Other days, it is her. No matter who it is, the other is always ready to step up so the first one can simply feel and accept the care they really need but struggle to ask for.
When he came home, he thought he would be seeking comfort, but she's already given it and much more. She's given him love, a new lease on life. He's happy, and he didn't think that was possible earlier. Happy isn't sufficient enough to explain his feelings, though. Overjoyed is closer.
Because he is in such a great mood, he removes his glasses and buries his face in her hair, which only encourages her to let go even more. Her arms slide around him before she turns her whole body so their fronts meet. At that, she collapses against him, her fingers slipping under his shirt to cling to his warm skin. Her movements are whimsical as they wander tenderly across his midsection, and he groans loudly.
"Don't stop," he urges, lowering his head so he can kiss her forehead.
"I won't. The same goes for you," she says breathily as his lips find her cheeks and ears.
"Never," he vows, trailing kisses across her face until he comes to her lips.
He knows himself enough that if he starts with her lips, it'll be much harder to stop. Some days, he doesn't kiss her on the lips because he wants to respect her boundaries, and he debates with himself internally…at least until she decides for him and kisses him soundly.
At that, nothing else matters but the fact that she wants this, wants him, and he deepens the kiss, adding tongue and gripping her hair. He loves her longer hair because it's easier to gather and hold, and when they finally break for air, he's breathing hard as he kisses every inch of skin he can find. Her lips are sweet, and he comes back to them after each other place he explores, addicted to her taste. Her jaw is firm, even if the skin is soft, and it's a wonderful contrast to her neck. All is inviting here, and as she moans, he is drawn in still further, leaving wet kisses all over her. As she moves against him, he's hard as a rock, hips surging against her to tell her just how much he wants her.
After a particularly hard roll of his hips, her hands grip his waist, holding him there, and all of this isn't enough. He needs to tell her with more than words how much he loves and adores her. His hands go to the buttons at the top of her shirt, and he pauses, looking at her for permission. When she nods, he grins and undoes one button quickly.
"You're so eager. I'm glad; I have no idea what I'm doing here," she confesses, all words disappearing when he kisses her collarbone.
"You don't need experience to turn me on; I don't have any here, either," he admits between urgent kisses. "I want you. You want me. We'll figure it out. Everything about you draws me in. I want to know…I need to know you."
"Then know me," she encourages breathlessly, undoing another button.
Words fail them both as he rediscovers her chest. No inch is unimportant; all must be marked by his lips, to see if she is different tasting here. Each subsequent button reveals more flesh that he promises to love and cherish more than his own, and when he comes to the slight swell of her breasts, he treasures them. Traces the lines with his tongue. Kisses the curves to claim them. Rubs his nose so he can breathe her in. Each time he does one of those things, he looks up to check on her, and each time, he sees her satisfied grin telling him she wants this, too. When he finally reveals her cotton bra, he stops, wanting permission.
"I know they're small," she says, grimacing slightly.
"I don't care. They're yours, and I love them as they are. It just means I can hold all of you," he states ardently, slowly wrapping his hands around the clothed mounds. "See?"
They both shiver when he fully grasps her breasts, and as her eyes close, she leans into him. The pressure is warm and tantalizing against him, and he's even harder because he can discern the shape of her breasts clearly. She gives another little push of invitation and whispers, "Yes. Are you stopping here?"
"Only if you want me to," he says, causing her eyes to open.
"Keep going," she begs, an edge to her voice. "Please."
All he wants is to dive in, but he knows that she needs to hear and see more, so he rises to kiss her. "Gladly," he says against her lips before pulling away so she can see the emotion in his eyes and hear it in his voice. "Thank you for this beautiful gift."
After that, he uses his teeth to push away her bra straps, making sure to kiss the newly revealed skin on her shoulders as well. As he kisses a trail of fire down her front, he circles her clothed breasts until she is squirming beneath him, just as eager as him for him to remove the pesky layer of clothing.
"I've waited so long for this moment," he breathes, finally pushing down one cup.
There in the fluorescent light is a shape he's dreamed of many times, the same color skin, but now round and full until it becomes darker, jutting to a point. He stares longingly, needing to feel her so he knows this is really happening. A single finger glides around the small globe, slow as he memorizes her. He marvels with parted lips at how velvety soft she is, and how similar she feels when he reaches her areola, and he doesn't understand how he got so lucky.
Tentatively he strokes her stiff nipple, and both of them exhale wobbly.
"Is it everything you imagined?" she asks, placing a hand on his cheek, urging his face up to meet her eyes.
"So much more," he says, circling the smooth tip before adding another finger. "I could look at it for hours."
Her scoffing sound turns into a moan when he kisses her breast, and once he starts, he doesn't stop. He hungrily kisses her all over, paying attention to her nipple with his tongue, lips, and teeth, and her hands hold him against her like she needs him to breathe. Below, their hips meet incessantly with each kiss, and he doesn't care that his pants start to cut off circulation. He'll finish himself off later, after he has kissed every inch of her breasts.
Only when he is thoroughly satisfied with learning about one breast does he turn to her other, ready to lavish equal attention upon it. As soon as both breasts are bared to him, though, he sticks his face in the valley between them, grateful to have this intimate moment with her. To be so trusted that she is willing to be vulnerable.
"I'll never doubt your love for me and my body again," she says as he remains there, kissing every inch he can reach.
"Good," he murmurs between kisses, enjoying the way her hands pull on his raven hair and push it against her breast. "I will be the greatest student of your body; I will know you better than my own."
"I didn't know it could be like this," she breathes, one needy hand going to his neck.
"I didn't know it was possible to feel this connected to someone. To love you even more than I already do," he echoes, kissing the other mound in earnest.
Soon the only sound coming from them is labored breathing and whimpers as he loses himself in her body. She is precious to him, and the more he sees of her, the more he yearns to kiss and protect.
"Is it too soon to speak of marriage?" he asks as he finishes exploring and rests his head against her chest.
Grinning, she shakes her head. "No. Of course you're already thinking about that."
"It's what I do. Now that I know what you're like here, there's no way I can give you up. I'm a selfish man, Haruhi; I want you all to myself," he says as she lays her back on the couch, with him following.
"No one but you will satisfy me," she affirms, playing with his hair. "It feels weird lying like this, and yet, I like it. It feels natural somehow."
"Because we're together, as we should be," he states, unbuttoning the rest of her top so he can kiss her flat stomach. "We're going to be doing this more often now."
"I won't complain," she says, only to let out a needy whine when he licks her belly button.
He watches her squeeze her legs together, and that's when he realizes just how wet she is. With her khaki pants on, there is a noticeable dark spot, and the need to help her is overwhelming.
"May I help you find relief?" he requests, pointing at her pants.
A deep blush covers her cheeks, and just when he thinks she will answer, her eyes suddenly light up. Uncrossing her legs, she nods.
"Yes. I was about to say no and do it later, but since you've already seen my top half, there's no reason to hide the bottom," she explains with a tight smile.
He shakes his head in return. "There isn't. I'll love this part of you just as much," he promises, sitting up and easing her pants down. "Just tell me what you like to do, and I'll do it."
Her simple, white underwear are about as Haruhi as they come, and he almost comes in his pants from how soaked they are. There's so much for him…even her legs are sticky. The sight appeals to him at a visceral level, knowing he caused this.
"I–"
Words fail him as she spreads her legs, giving him an even better view. Without thinking, he rubs a finger along her clothed slit, and both inhale sharply. Beneath him, she quivers, opening ever so slightly more to him, and he yearns to fill her, to join his body to hers in the way they were designed to so that they can truly become one.
But one step at a time.
Gently he guides her panties down with one hand, and he palms himself once to stave off the worst of his need as he glimpses the apex of her thighs. The little hairs here are curly and matted from her slick, but he can't see much more because she closes her legs.
"I'm really close," she warns him, gripping his hips.
"Tell me how to please you," he entreats, lowering himself so his face is at her opening.
Gingerly she opens her legs, and he sees pink flesh that gasps for his touch. Cloying wetness seeps out, beckoning him inside.
"Bring two fingers forward," she coaches, taking the two he offers and rolling them against her opening until they're both wet. "I like to insert them multiple times until I orgasm."
Her slick is a conduit, each glance of soft flesh magnified as it imprints itself on him in the same way he caresses her. And this is just the outside.
He nods as she slowly edges him into her, but as he feels her wet heat envelop him, tight and needy, he can't breathe. The thought of her taking his cock like that gives him the worst blue balls he's ever known, the pressure too intense. She works his digits inside her with little gasps of his name, and he makes it a point to stroke her inner walls as he delves deeper. Once she takes him as far as she can, they stop to breathe.
"Your fingers are larger," she pants, her hands holding him in place. "So full."
"Just wait until it's not my fingers," he enthuses, and a hungry darkness enters her eyes before she shows him her preferred rhythm, moving him in and out a few times.
"Is that…good?" he asks as he enters her on his own.
"Yes! Very good," she encourages, returning her hands to his hips for an anchor as he dives into her once more.
After a few thrusts from him, she whimpers his name as she orgasms, and her hand slips, just enough that it glances against his member. The slightest touch is enough, and he comes in his pants, eyes unable to stop watching her as she comes undone before him. When he is spent, she seems done as well, so he eases himself down to lay his head on her stomach, and they remain like that for a time, everything sticky and not caring a bit.
"So, what's your ring size?" he asks, making her laugh.
Later she tells him, and things only get better from there. They take more time to explore each other's bodies, but never have sex. His strict upbringing won't allow it until marriage, but he knows that when they get to that point, they will be ready. Before long, he knows how to pleasure her without any coaching from her, and she knows how and where to touch him.
Outside of their relationship, things at work don't get better for a time, and he doesn't let it bother him. He's never been happier or more satisfied, and the only thing that could make this situation better is if they are married, so the whole world knows that they love one another.
He spends too much time looking for the right ring, as he wants it to be simple and not too over the top. Finding one that meets his ideas of beauty is hard, but he finds one. Once he does, all the rest of his plans fall into place.
On a certain day, he surprises her by coming home early and setting up a candlelit dinner of her favorite ootoro and more (including a hidden camera so he can show their friends later), and when she gets home, she ditches her bags and goes to him at the table.
"You didn't have to do all this," she says, kissing him. "Thank you."
"I wanted to. You're important to me. The most important person in my life. I love you. Haruhi, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I can show you how much you mean to me. You've challenged me a lot through the years, and it's made me the man I am. I'm stronger because of you," he says as he gets down on one knee. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
"Yes," she replies quickly as he shows her the ring, and she leans down, cupping his cheek. "Nothing would make me happier."
Once the ring is on her finger, they kiss, and he turns off the video so they can kiss more and eat in peace. They wait until after they finish eating to tell Tamaki and the rest of the Hosts, and they regret that as everyone appears within less than an hour with tons more food to celebrate.
"Haruhi!"
Kyoya's not sure who reaches her first: Hunny or Tamaki. It doesn't matter, as both hug different parts of her at the same time. Mori and Kaoru congratulate him first, and Renge soon after.
Once Haruhi is free, the twins hug her as one. "Congrats, Haruhi! We couldn't be happier for you. But… if you ever get cold feet, we'll act as your getaway drivers, even at the wedding," says Hikaru playfully.
"But we may never enter this country again," jokes Kaoru, making all laugh.
Seconds later, Ranka calls on video chat, no doubt done with work, or else he just saw the picture of Haruhi's ring.
"Haruhi! My precious daughter is getting married, and to the best man alive! Where's my future son-in-law?"
"Right here," responds Kyoya, showing his face, causing a new squeal of joy from Ranka.
"My boy! I'm so proud of you and so very happy! I know you'll do well by my Haruhi."
"I will…she is my first priority, always," replies Kyoya, making many coo and aww.
"Good! You have my blessing! Now you two have fun with your friends. I'm visiting you tomorrow! Ta ta!"
The rest of the night is spent with the two of them recounting how their relationship progressed. They start on different couches with friends on either side, listening raptly, but by the end of the night, they have shifted to sit next to each other. As Haruhi shares animatedly, Kyoya can't imagine a better scene in his mind, Haruhi beside him and wearing his ring, their friends nearby and happy for them.
Mori and his girlfriend sit on the same couch as Hunny and Reiko, and the twins sit on the other side of Haruhi. Tamaki and Renge are cuddled on a loveseat, with Renge eating up every cute story with even more relish than Hunny with cake.
At this moment, all's right with the world, and he feels as though his priorities are finally in order. This is his future laid out before him, and he couldn't be more excited for it.
When everyone leaves, both are exhausted, but it doesn't stop him from giving her a kiss goodnight at her bedroom door. The problem is that she kisses him back, yanking him into her room. Any sleepiness he felt vanishes as all blood rushes south, and he could stay awake for hours, just kissing her.
She removes his shirt in short order, and he eagerly removes her shirt and bra before their legs hit the bed. At that, they both fall onto it, sealing their lips to one another, and he never wants to leave her as he positions himself above her, hips bearing firmly upon hers.
It doesn't help that her hands are insistently plastered against him, holding him close and telling him without words that she wants him. He returns the gesture with equal fervor, fondling her breasts and rolling her nipples until they're engorged. His fingers move in time with his bottom half, starting slow and steady but quickly turning rough and impassioned as need consumes them both.
Each quick gasp and low whimper he draws from her between kisses is categorized so he can hear it repeated during another encounter. He makes his own noises whenever she finds a sensitive spot. Their hips never stop grinding against each other, each insistent roll giving glorious friction and sending him racing toward his peak.
"I need you," she rasps, pulling his head down. "Please."
As soon as his lips suction to her stiff bud, he slips one hand down her skirt, finding her wet, and he groans as he fits three fingers into her. "Always, my future wife," he murmurs, making her grin.
As he switches to her other dusky peak, he thrusts faster into her, and she unzips his pants, stroking his erection quickly. They're both close; he can tell from how she breathes and how her face looks.
"I can't wait until the day when we're tied forever to one another," he admits, circling her clit, and she comes, babbling his name.
"Nor I," she confesses dazedly, smiling as she grasps the base of his cock.
Her other hand guides his tip until it barely grazes her bare thigh, and he comes all over her, inflamed by her hands on him and excited by the sight of his ring on her hand.
All he can is her name at first as they ride out their orgasms. Carefully he lays on top of her, avoiding crushing her, and after they have had time to recover, he raises her hand so he can see his ring on her finger. "It looks so perfect there."
Their hands are both covered in each other's release, which only adds to the scene in his mind. He never considered himself one to give in to his baser instincts, but she brings out new parts of him with each intimate moment.
"It'll be even better when we're married. Let's have a short engagement," she says, and he's inclined to agree.
For a little more time, they enjoy the afterglow, and then he gets a warm rag to clean them up before he heads to his own bed. As he leaves her bedroom, though, he knows it won't be long before they share the same bed.
The next morning, all the news outlets announce their engagement, and no one is surprised. Still, the congratulations pour in, and everyone from his family – except his father – contacts him.
To everyone's shock, the couple set their date before Tamaki and Renge, and since Kyoya has money, there's a team of wedding planners who all fall over themselves to make their wedding dream a reality. Between work and wedding planning, the months fly by, and soon, the big day is upon them.
In contrast to Tamaki's planned circus of a wedding, he and Haruhi marry in a small, traditional ceremony with family and the closest friends. It's simple for Haruhi, and elegant and expensive for Kyoya as befitting one of his station. Tamaki and Ranka both cry throughout the ceremony, and even Fuyumi sobs at the end.
After the ceremony and necessary photos, they all head to a reception, at which point both of the married couple change. The traditional clothes for the wedding are not needed here, and he wears a black tuxedo. When she comes out, though, his breath hitches at seeing her wear the black dress he bought her all those years ago. Somehow, it looks even better on her now, and he can't help but recognize the earrings and necklace she's wearing. They're Ootori family heirlooms, and she looks so proud to be wearing them, even if they are more flashy than she prefers.
She floats toward him joyfully, like there is nowhere and no one she would rather be with. The long dress swirls about her legs, and that enticing slit on her right side tells him that he should steal her away early into the reception so he can trace that cloth and skin properly.
When she's close, she gives him a wry look, and he realizes that he is still staring slack-jawed. Closing his mouth, he offers her an arm.
"Mrs. Ootori. Truly a pleasure and honor," he says silkily.
"I thought you were feigning that surprise years ago…now I know otherwise," she replies, looping her arm with his.
"I'm going to enjoy removing that dress from your body later tonight," he whispers, kissing her cheek and grinning as she blushes. "How do you still have that dress after all this time?" he asks, needing to know. "I thought you lost it in your old apartment with everything else."
She shakes her head. "Luckily for you, I took it to my dad's house with a few other dresses soon after you bought it, as I assumed I'd never wear it. Dad's been so excited to see me finally wear it."
"So am I. You look ravishing," he states, eyeing her hungrily. "We should leave the reception early."
She smirks. "Sounds like the dress did its job then."
"Who gave you the jewelry?" he asks, surprised as he takes a closer look at which ones they are. "They're Mom's."
"I did," answers an unexpected voice.
His father. Kyoya turns to see Yoshio looking very proud for once.
"This is my wedding present to the two of you, a successful businessman and lawyer." The older man glances at both before his gaze falls on Kyoya, eyes misty for a moment. "Your mother would have wanted her to have those," continues his father before backing away. "Well done, my son. You are good for one another. My best wishes and blessings upon your marriage."
Kyoya's stomach is full of butterflies as he watches his father leave. It's truly a day of surprises and joy, and when he grins a little more broadly, his wife gives him a questioning look.
With a smugness only Kyoya can do, he leans to whisper into Haruhi's ear, "I attended the weddings of both of my brothers. He never told either of them that they chose well. He really likes you."
Shaking her head, she responds, "I'm not sure it's a good thing to be liked by him," and they both chuckle.
"Perhaps not, but he did love my mother in his own way…I was always closest to her," says Kyoya, eyes on the corner where pictures of their mothers sit out to allow others to pay their respects. "And he's right that Mom would have liked you and wanted you to have those."
He doesn't often think about his mother since she passed years ago and the memory brings pain, but this interaction brings some measure of healing to his heart.
"And I know my Mom would have liked you, too," replies Haruhi, drawing his attention back before reaching out a hand. "I think they're both in heaven, smiling at us."
"Probably wondering why it took us so long to get together," he returns, and they both laugh heartily.
When he takes Haruhi's hand, he never wants to stop touching her. Because it's them, he doesn't do it too long in public view. He sneaks in moments of holding her hand while seated, and while they're greeting people, their arms are always linked. After many speeches and good food, people dance, and the newlyweds dance together three times. The first time is highly choreographed after many classes, and the second dance isn't planned at all, mostly just swaying.
For the third dance, the music is slow and lilting, and Kyoya can sense that Haruhi is anxious to leave, just like him. A waltz seems like a fitting song to end the night on, and when he sees the sparkle in Haruhi's eyes, he knows that she also remembers the first party they Hosted together.
No longer is Haruhi unfamiliar with waltzing; now she is a pro, having danced with him at countless parties. The difference is tonight they're married, and after this, they're going to consummate their feelings in a dance as old as time.
As soon as her left hand lands on his right shoulder, the movements are as easy as breathing. His left hand in her right, they are connected, and it feels new, different. Now he doesn't have to give her up, and they both know it as they exchange heated looks.
"I've waited a long time for this moment," he whispers, squeezing her hand.
"You always did like playing the long game…but can you last a little longer?" she asks with a lifted brow and wry slant to her lips.
She swings her hips suggestively, and it's a challenge he happily accepts. Smirking, he uses the next step of the dance to lean in a little closer than before, their joined arms meeting further and his right hand sneaking down her side, bringing her closer to him.
"Of course I can. The better question is can you?" he taunts, and she gives him a determined look.
She grips his shoulder tighter, and when his lead has her go backwards once more, she doesn't comply at first. Instead, she kisses him, soundly, unleashing every bit of the passion she has for him. He's overwhelmed at first, and as soon as she tries to pull away, it's not enough. He kisses her back, the fingers at her side spreading and pushing her toward him just a little more. There's something satisfying about being able to dig his fingers into the smooth fabric, and the heat of her body is a siren call he's helpless to ignore, even if his behavior is highly irregular by his standards. This is his wedding night; he will make an exception.
When they break apart to breathe, both are panting, but her eyes still hold that undercurrent of challenge. She's not done yet, and delicious tension energizes his bones as she finishes making her move.
"Your turn," she breathes.
They've greeted everyone, and each kiss from clinking glasses earlier left him wanting. Each short peck was a reminder that there is more, far more, waiting for them behind closed doors, and this move on her part only reminds him of it. For his sake, he hopes no one looks at his pants; his wife has started something that he intends to finish.
As he leads her toward him, he closes the distance a little more, their steps smaller, and his wandering fingers linger at where her bra should be. But it's not there. When he brushes against her, there's soft, pliant flesh that's starting to swell, and the hitch in her breath precedes the barest outline of her nipples, her display of arousal sending him into overdrive. He stares a moment too long, as it messes up their rhythm, and she's blushing, even if she seems pleased.
"I wanted it to be a surprise for you," she murmurs with a shrug.
"It is…make no mistake about it. A welcome one," he returns, grinning wider. "Your turn," he continues, and she is ready.
With another step, her hand slides out of his grasp and up his arm. When she reaches his shoulder, she rubs circles into both of them, but she doesn't stop there. Her right hand continues its journey north, pausing purposefully at his neck before stopping at his face. From here, she caresses his jaw and cheek, the little motions driving him crazy.
"It's your turn," she declares, never stopping moving.
He doesn't know how he can outmaneuver her until he remembers that he has a free hand, and she has a slit in her dress that he has been itching to explore. With measured motions in time with the dance, he inches his way up her bare arm, moving a little more with each step he takes. When he reaches her shoulder, all he wants is to push that strap down, but he resists. Instead, he uses his right hand to subtly cup more of her breast, and his left darts down her side, lingering where the slit in her dress begins.
A quick intake of breath later, she closes her eyes and hums as his long fingers dance across her exposed skin. When he dips a little lower, she takes a step toward him, eyes now focused on him.
"Is it as good as you imagined?" she asks, eyes burning.
"Even better," he mouths, enjoying every moment.
He sees her resolve rapidly disappearing, and he couldn't be more relieved. His whole body yearns to be closer to her, and she doesn't help things by bringing the hand at his shoulder to his hips, encouraging him to give in. It takes every ounce of his restraint to only step in so that their fronts almost touch, and he tries to spur her into action by canting his hips. His clothed tip brushes against her stomach, and she scowls.
"That's not fair," she grits out.
"All's fair in love and war; fight back," he challenges smugly.
She fights too well. Seconds later, she removes all distance between their bodies, and she hugs him tightly. It looks like a tender display to all, but she betrays her true intentions to him when she rolls her hips.
"Check," she taunts against his chest, giving him the motion again.
That time, it's too much for him. He's waited long enough, and she clearly is ready.
"Checkmate," he whispers, leaning down and kissing her as his hips rub against the spot that drives her crazy.
She practically rips her lips away, fire burning in her eyes. "Agreed. Let's go."
Joining their hands, they make their way toward the exit, and everyone on the dance floor parts for them, many well-wishes around them. They hear none of them, as wrapped up as they are in making it to his – now their – car.
"To the hotel please," requests Kyoya when he spots Hotta.
This time, Kyoya helps his new wife into the car, and as soon as they're in, Hotta speeds away. Similarly, Kyoya wastes no time in flattening his lips against Haruhi's, and he stretches the limits of his seatbelt as he gropes her right thigh, exploring the full length of the exposed flesh. By the time they arrive at the hotel, his hair, tie, and jacket are all woefully askew, while his shirt sleeves are rolled up and front buttons are half undone. Haruhi is a little better, as her dress hides most of his attention, even if her hair is in disarray.
But Kyoya, ever the planner, had expected this outcome, so they are dropped off at a private entrance. An employee is at the door with keys for them, so they head right up to the bridal suite.
The suite is one that Kyoya chose personally, having done some research on which hotel had the best accommodations, and the hotel does not disappoint. When the newlyweds arrive at their room, hands linked and bodies ready for more, they pause at the threshold.
Kyoya can't be sure, but he'd bet that even his mouth is slightly open like Haruhi's is. The room is sumptuous and tasteful in its decoration, the color scheme full of rich crimsons, deep purples, and charcoal grays. The upholstery, curtains, and even the flowers match the palette, with red and purple roses artfully placed throughout the room, with a plum canopy surrounding a four poster bed.
As much as Kyoya would like to try out the plush furniture and enjoy the furnishings more, his primary focus is his wife. He will settle for sitting on the chaise on the morrow since they have plenty of time to appreciate the surroundings later.
"Wow."
Turning his head, he concentrates on Haruhi's face, pleased to see her looking truly impressed, eyes and mouth wide.
"So you like it?" he asks, squeezing her hand.
He knows she does, but there's something about hearing the confirmation from her. Unlike his family, she will affirm him, lift him up, and keep him honest no matter what.
Her head twists minutely to smile broadly at him. "Like it? It's beautiful. I've never seen anything so fine," she marvels, tugging him toward a loveseat and running a hand along the top. "It makes me want to just lay on it and enjoy it."
He's amused by how much she still isn't used to living like a rich person, but he imagines she will get used to it now that she's married to him. He has standards and wants the best, as much for himself as her. And if they're going to spend a week in a room spending time together without work and having sex, he is excited to have such a room and to have convinced Haruhi to go along with the scheme.
"We can. We have this suite for a week since you didn't want to leave the country," he reminds her, shaking his head good-naturedly at her insistence to have a low-key honeymoon.
"I wanted us both to relax. We can do it better here, without travel concerns. And after seeing this place, we definitely can," she states with surety. Her head swivels to take in everything once more. "When you told me you would spare no expense for us on our wedding night, you meant it." She faces him to stare into his eyes, gratitude plainly there. "Thank you."
The way she keeps rubbing the fabric tells him that she loves it. Perhaps they will try out the furniture. Nothing wrong with more foreplay, right?
"You're welcome," he replies, kissing her forehead and undoing her hair so it falls down around her shoulders. "Would you like to lie on it? Try it out fully?"
"Could I?" she asks, getting excited until her eyes darken a smidgen. At that, she gives him a knowing look. "What are you planning to do?"
"What all husbands ought to do on their wedding nights: devote themselves to their wives," he answers, sliding a finger over her shoulder until he gets to one of her straps. At that, he pushes it down, and it falls easily, revealing that much more of her chest to his hungry eyes.
Oh yes. He's waited a long time to enjoy this moment, and he couldn't be more exhilarated by the prospect.
"If that's the case," she intuits, turning to offer her other shoulder to him, "then I look forward to fully appreciating this loveseat. It's very warm and soft, slightly warmer than the air."
With cat-like grace, he darts behind her, kissing up her neck until he reaches her ear. "Don't worry. I'll make you warm in no time," he promises in a hoarse whisper. Another kiss, and he unzips her dress, one hand on the zipper and the other blazing down the skin that he exposes.
"I already am," she returns, shivering as he strokes her lower back with both hands, then travels north to her straps.
He grasps the thin strip on her shoulder and pulls it down in time with lowering the other, until both her breasts are bare to him. The sight of her straight hair acting as the final curtain, parting slightly to reveal engorged nipples, makes him hard as a rock, and he grinds against her behind, causing the dress to pool at her feet.
"Beautiful," he rasps, in awe of her.
Now he can appreciate Haruhi fully, and he groans with pleasure, eager to tie himself to her in every way possible. He cups her breasts, warming them a little before he starts pulling and rolling her rosy peaks in the way she likes. As she crosses her legs to stave off her growing desire, she tips her head back and kisses him.
"Please," she urges, reaching behind and unzipping his pants.
"All in time. I have great plans for you," he murmurs, kissing her again. "Let's make good use of the loveseat, shall we?"
They separate to get settled, and she lies down on the thick, soft fabric, legs and knees together until he is kneeling above her, admiring how her hair is spread everywhere and her face is flushed. Her eyes are pleading, and her hands tell him exactly what she wants as she grasps his thighs and works his pants down. Soon after, his cock is released, erect and weeping, just as red as her face. As her breath hitches, he leads her hands to his length so she holds him with both hands, and he breathes easier surrounded by her familiar skin.
"You feel so good already," he says, rocking into her hands and moaning. "We could do it here if you wanted."
"Tomorrow," she decides, stroking his shaft until he fears he will come undone early.
At that, he slides away from her hands and lowers himself so his lips float just above her breasts. Using one finger, he nudges her drenched slit until she opens her legs, and then he adds another finger to caress each of her lower lips.
"So brilliant and gorgeous. Somehow, you're mine," he says in wonder, planting kisses around one breast.
"Irrevocably now," she states, waving her ring hand around before resting it against the family necklace she's still wearing.
"I'd have it no other way," he intones, losing the ability to speak a moment as he works three fingers into her, wanting to make sure she is plenty stretched for him. Arousal hits him harder at feeling her velvet walls. "So tight."
"And eager to feel other parts of you," she encourages, and he grins.
To know without a shadow of a doubt that his longtime feelings are requited makes him feel warm all over.
"As am I," he says, sucking one tip into his mouth before kissing down her stomach, hands going to her hips.
When he comes to the apex of her thighs, she opens wider for him, as they both know what comes next. Now that he knows what her slick tastes like, he likes to indulge and bury his face between her legs, and he does just that. With light laps of his tongue, he licks up her sweetness, breathing in her heady scent.
When he is good and ready, he glances up, still looking for permission, and she nods eagerly, hands dragging him by his hair toward her opening. He needs no urging, though, and he licks and sucks until she cries out his name, boneless beneath him. Then and only then does he lift off of her and move her limbs and torso about so she can appreciate how the furniture's cushions feel. Once in position, she wriggles and stretches, and she's adorable to watch as she gets her money and time's worth of the loveseat, a giant smile on her face.
Once she has recovered from her first orgasm, she's had her fill of the loveseat, so he carries her over to their bed. He lays her down amid rose petals, and once he is fully undressed, he climbs on top of her, glad to see her excitement.
"Everything changes after this," he says, playing with her clit to get her ready.
"I know, and I couldn't be happier about it," she says, still glowing despite the desire that quickens her limbs and darkens her eyes.
"You're an Ootori now," he declares, kissing her ring finger. "But with a big difference: you don't have to bow to any sort of family duty."
After trying to live up to familial expectations for so long, it's far more satisfying to make his own path with her. He also doesn't want her thinking that she has to worry about his family and their expectations of her.
"I wouldn't anyway, but I still want children with you," she says, grasping his member and leading it toward her center.
He breathes a little easier upon hearing that, and his desire increases exponentially.
"So do I," he replies before admitting, "and I want the whole world to know you're my wife. That you chose me." He rubs her stomach once. "That you carry my child."
He's wanted her for so long that it felt like this day would never come. But now that it has, he finally knows how it feels to be loved and wanted. And that small part of him that always longed to have someone to call his own, someone whom he can love and trust completely, is now satisfied in every possible way. She is his, just as much as he is hers.
She nods, love shining in her eyes. "One day, whenever that may be."
"Yes," he agrees, positioning himself at her opening.
She squeezes his base, and he cants his hips forward on instinct, his tip barely brushing against her folds. As she grins and nods her permission, he knows he has finally found his home.
"You feel that?" he asks, rubbing against her, getting to know and loving the feel of her on this part of him for the first time. He enters her just barely and moans. "That's all for you. Tonight and always," he tells her breathlessly. He goes a little deeper. "Only you."
She already feels incredible, and he's barely begun. Each inch further introduces him to more wonders about Haruhi that he can't wait to explore time and again with her, and they take their time to enjoy each moment and make sure that she's not in pain.
When he bottoms out inside her, they wait a little longer, savoring the moment. Her eyes are closed, but the rest of her face is suffused with joy, just as he feels, knowing true love and devotion as their bodies are joined as close as they can possibly be.
As he happily gives himself to her completely, he knows the wait was worth it. She purposely chose him, and her commitment to marriage makes him feel free, knowing they don't fear the future, no matter what comes. She loves him no matter how he performs, how his company works out, or how his family treats him. He is loved just for himself, not for his money, name, or power.
To her, he is just Kyoya, her husband, and he has never been so grateful.
His hands at her sides loosen to rub circles into her skin, and he watches the play of emotions on her face, amazed still that she trusts him with all of them. Sweat slicks her hair and trickles down her face, but she has never looked so breathtaking. When she opens her eyes and stares deeply into his, showering him with even more love, he doesn't know how this time together could possibly get better, but she quickly shows him how.
"I'm ready," she says, rocking her hips up. "Move."
Just that slight in and out sensation is another new world to him, and he glories in the feeling of entering her tightness and being welcomed home each subsequent time. Before long, he can't resist moving faster, wanting to know more, and she only spurs him on to go even faster, until they find the rhythm that makes them both moan in ecstasy.
When that happens, words run dry, and the only sounds between them are them panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into her fervently. Each pull out makes him feel like she misses him already as her walls cling to him, and every thrust in shows she is just as greedy as him as she tries to take him deeper faster.
Every time, she rises to meet him halfway, and his hands are white-knuckled as they cling to her hips. He wants to blur the lines of where his body ends and hers begins, so he gives her what she wants, his cock driving into her until they're both shaking. He needs to lose himself inside her, until he's completely spent and his seed is planted deep inside her, creating new life.
When they're both close to their peak, he brings one hand to her breasts and the other to her clit. With the right pressure, she soars off the cliff into oblivion, and with a couple thrusts, he follows behind her, emptying himself inside her as he grunts her name, and the fact that she squeezes him tighter as he releases makes this moment perfect. With that, he carefully lowers himself so he can wrap his arms around her and lay beside her, and he wants to stay inside and connected to her for some time.
This is true peace. This is satisfaction like he's never known. She accepts him, all of him, and she wants every part of him.
He doesn't know how he could love anyone more than he does Haruhi at this moment, so he pulls the covers over them and kisses her until she falls asleep with the light on.
As she snores quietly, he encircles her with his arms and buries his nose in her hair.
"I love you," he whispers, never more content.
Epilogue: One Year Later
As Kyoya and Haruhi hustle about their new house, taking care of last minute details for the anniversary party, he can't help but reflect that some things don't change. He is no closer to his family now, but he doesn't care. He has his own family now, and a booming business that is already being spoken highly of.
Even though Haruhi is pregnant and showing now, she still insists upon working and doing chores around the house. Despite any pain or discomfort, she still smiles, and today she glows.
The first guest is announced, and naturally it's Ranka. He visits frequently now that his daughter is with child, and he goes to her first.
"Haruhi! My little girl is getting so big! I can't believe I'm going to be a grandfather! Pinch me! Ow!"
"Dad, if you don't want to be pinched, don't say that," she responds matter-of-factly before hugging him. "It's that simple."
"Fine, fine, one day I'll learn. So, can I finally get a tour of your home? You promised!" he reminds her, jumping up and down.
She winces then looks at a chair. "Well, I should probably sit–"
"That's totally fine! You just sit and rest, and I'll ask your husband to give me a tour," says Ranka, helping Haruhi to her favorite chair. "We'll be back soon!"
The tour barely ends before the rest of the Host Club arrives, all of them bringing their significant others. Hunny brings his son with him as well, and it turns out that the little guy loves sweets just as much as his dad. Tamaki and Renge are all smiles now that she's pregnant as well, so she plops herself between Haruhi and Reiko.
Kyoya enjoys seeing the women chat and bond over motherhood, and he's glad to still have his friends after all this time. Once upon a time, they were all disparate people who formed a club and only spoke of Hosting, not anything of substance with each other. Then, Haruhi entered their lives, and they became friends, even a family.
He is grateful to have all of these friendships, and he looks forward to the day that he can call them all uncles to his daughter. Now, they feel like family, even as they all live their lives, and he can talk to his friends about anything: business, annoying people, fatherhood, and more.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that starting a Host Club would lead to all of this, to lifelong friends and his wife, but he wouldn't trade them for anything, even when Tamaki and Ranka fuss too much over Haruhi.
Kyoya does a good job of that all on his own since Haruhi has a bad habit of overextending herself. For most of the night, he lets her sit among friends and chat, but after a certain point of time, he misses her, so he settles himself next to her. When she smiles at him, he knows that she missed him, too.
His life feels full, like it has all fallen into place. Haruhi with all her love and compassion is the key, and he knows that no matter what challenges befall them, as long as he has her, they will make it.
He looks forward to every challenge with her; they allowed him to have the relationship he always wanted with Haruhi.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much for reading and for the love! It's been a journey writing this story at long last, and I'm very satisfied with how it came out.
MollyMuffinHead: Thank you so much for reading and for all the lovely reviews! Yay for being the first one here!! I'm so happy that the first chapter pulled you in and that you like the POV! I don't often write from his perspective, but I felt like it was more important in this story with him playing the long game. It's definitely something I love seeing as well. And oh my! I'm glad nothing happened while you were reading. That second chapter was long, just like this one is, and I think you and I agree about what we like seeing in terms of progress for them. I much prefer it when he goes out on his own and stops worrying about the family so much, as I do know that struggle as well. Hehe I'm glad the roommate situation was a surprise, and yeah, my habit is seeing one bathroom, so that is what I write. As for Yoshio, well, he is still going to be doing more, but not necessarily anything that requires Haruhi to step in. His A parenting will always show up, just like his shipping tendencies. He is the OG KyoHaru shipper, and you'll always see him like that in my stories. His brothers see him as a threat, so I headcanon them as determined to be icy forevermore, and as for Yoshio, I always imagine him as expecting his eldest to take over but appreciating Kyoya's ingenuity enough to respect him when Kyoya does break away. He may not openly support Kyoya in the business realm because he is competition now, but he doesn't try to stop him. And YES!! I'm super pumped that you think how their feelings were resolved was satisfying and well done. It is always a relief to me knowing I'm not the only one who thinks so. Again, thank you SO much for reading!!
