Author's Note: I may be holding a certain Ootori hostage, but that does not mean I own OHSHC.
So, here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it, but if you don't let me know. I may rewrite it. Still, Chapter 7 will fast forward to the Saturday of the Garden Party, in which there will be an Akito-Kyoya standoff because I've been planning it since I started this thing.
Also, I will be updating for The Broken Hearts Club either Thursday or Friday, most likely Friday.
Please, read, review, and enjoy!
Haruhi and an Ootori
Chapter 6
"Hello?" a smooth voice answered on the other end of the phone.
"Kyoya Ootori, be at my house in fifteen minutes or die," Haruhi snapped across the line.
"Tsk, tsk. Threatening the head of the Ootori zaibatsu? Not a smart move, is it Haruhi?"
"Kyoya, I wasn't afraid of you in school, I'm not afraid of you now." Haruhi was practically yelling at him through the telephone. "Just get the hell over here, I need to shout at you in person!"
"What a tempting offer," Kyoya remarked with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Be that as it may, I will be at your apartment in ten minutes." Haruhi listened as the phone clicked off and her conversation with Kyoya ended.
Haruhi moved around her apartment, grumbling incoherently as she changed into a pair of sweatpants and a cut-off t-shirt. She paused in front of the mirror, and her eyebrows scrunched together as she realized that neither the sweatpants not the t-shirt were actually hers.
The hosts had left clothes at her house over the years—through various occasions of late nights out where they wound up crashing in her apartment or when they stayed with her during a storm—and more often than not they never retrieved the forgotten clothes.
Curious, Haruhi looked through her wardrobe, which the twins had taken the time to organize and restock with new clothes. Every time the twins deemed her clothes outdated, they swapped the clothing in her room for their latest designs, leaving only Haruhi's comfort clothing—the type of outfits that none of the hosts would ever let her wear outside of her apartment.
Haruhi looked through her comfort clothing and realized that not a single article was originally hers. There were several sets of exercise pants and oversized shirts that Mori and Honey had slept in and left behind. Also, multiple designer sweatshirts, jackets, and denim jeans had been tucked away in the corner of her closet, courtesy of the twins. Tamaki had left her a bizarre range of costumes and period getups, some of which were actually quite comfortable.
Then, Haruhi's eyes were caught by a large selection of button-down dress shirts and ties.
Kyoya. What am I going to do?
Slowly, Haruhi sank down onto her bed, her gaze locked on the button-down shirts. Kyoya would be there any minute, so it made no sense for her to shrug out of the t-shirt she was wearing and into a light blue dress shirt, but she did. She rolled back the sleeves that hung down past her fingertips and buttoned it up to the second-to-top button. As she finished redressing, the door opened, and she heard Kyoya's voice call out to her.
"Haruhi, where are you? I thought you wanted to shout at me some more."
Haruhi flew out of her bedroom and straight into Kyoya.
"Owe, owe! Haruhi, why are you hitting me?"
"Why didn't you tell me your brother is a hateful bastard?" Haruhi grunted as she pounded against his arm with her small fists.
"Well, I thought that was rather obvious," Kyoya muttered, grabbing Haruhi's hands in his own. "Now, would you like to explain to me what happened tonight to grant you such an unimpressive epiphany? Preferably without acts of violence being inflicted upon me?"
Haruhi brushed past Kyoya and began to go about brewing tea in a very angry manner. While she did, she relayed to Kyoya what had happened on her date with Akito. She told him about the twins helping her find something to wear, how nice dinner had been, the fun she'd had walking through the night festival with Aktio, everything right down to the kiss and its interruption.
"So this cross-dresser and his friends stumble into us, and it's clear they've had too much to drink, but they were still being perfectly nice. They made some comments about what a cute couple we were and how attractive Akito was, then went on their way. Well, then Akito started saying all these terrible things about cross-dressers, drag queens, transvestites. He insulted me and my dad!" Haruhi raved. "How could you not know about his opinion? Why didn't you tell me? Or tell him about my dad? Something! Do you have any idea how awful I felt when he said those things? What, were you just waiting for everything to fall apart?"
She whirled on him as she finished her rant, the tea kettle whistling in the background. Haruhi ignored it and so did Kyoy. After a minute had passed, Kyoya removed the teapot from the stove and turned to face Haruhi. He inspected her carefully before opening his mouth.
"Haruhi, is that my shirt?"
Haruhi resumed hitting him.
"Alright, alright, I'll be serious," he lamented. Haruhi slumped against the kitchen counter and let out a breath. Kyoya watched as her breath blew her bangs out of her eyes. "When did you get that haircut? Ah, right, serious," Kyoya amended as Haruhi slit her eyes angrily at him. "Well, if it's any consolation, I did not know Akito had any opinion, positive or otherwise, regarding drag queens and the like."
"I find that hard to believe," Haruhi commented. "How could you not know your brother hates a not-so-small portion of the population?" she asked incredulously.
Kyoya shrugged his shoulders. "I lost track of who my brother hated somewhere around age four. At this particular stage in my life I just assume Akito-san hates everyone in Japan and the poverty-stricken occupants of Russia."
"Kyoya!" Haruhi cried in exasperation. "You're supposed to be serious!"
"I am being serious. Haruhi, there is a reason I don't get along with my brothers, Aktio-san in particular," Kyoya told her. Then, in a different tone of voice, one that was softer and more serious, "If I had had any notion about his stance on cross-dressing, I would have warned you."
"Yeah, I know," Haruhi sniffed. Without warning, Haruhi flung herself at Kyoya again. He thought she was going to start hitting him again, but instead she was hugging him. Kyoya awkwardly reached over to wrap one of his arms around Haruhi's waist, the other around her shoulders.
"Come on," Kyoya said. "Let's go to you room. I think you need to lie down."
Kyoya sat down on the bed next to Haruhi's sprawled out body and handed her a cup of tea. Haruhi drank her tea in silence, barely raising her head to do so. It was clear to Kyoya that Haruhi was tired. It was late, and she had work the next day. He knew he ought to leave her to sleep, but she looked so . . . so very tempting.
The sight of Haruhi wearing his dress shirt, even if it was with a pair of Honey's old sweatpants, sent chills up his spine and conjured other images of Haruhi in his shirt, in his bed not in his shirt . . . he cut his eyes away from her, worried about just how distracting he found Haruhi.
"Kyoya," Haruhi whispered. "You can spend the night, if you want. I think I'd feel betted if you did. Tonight was kind of a miserable disaster."
Kyoya quickly smothered the fluttery happiness that filled his chest at her words. "I suppose I could. I might want to borrow something to wear for the night. It seems you have a decent collection of men's clothes. I supposed some habits die hard," he teased.
Haruhi swung a blind whack at his chest with her hand, and the touch of her palm on his body sent a jolt of electricity through him.
Just because she's wearing your shirt and invited you to spend the night does not mean that, Kyoya reminded himself. She is your friend, you are her friend. She had a bad night and that's all.
"I think the black sweatpants in the bottom drawer are yours from the time you were playing basketball to get that new client and came here afterwards," Haruhi commented helpfully.
Kyoya got off the bed and checked the dresser. The pair of sweatpants was in fact his. The Ootori zaibatsu logo on the pant leg confirmed it.
Kyoya pulled off his dress slacks and changed into the sweatpants. While he changed he called over to Haruhi, who remained draped across the bed, her eyes closed. "What about a shirt?"
"I don't know, yours is pretty comfortable," she replied, and Kyoya watched as her lips turned up in smile.
"That's because it's twice your size. But I suppose it will do for the night," Kyoya retorted, sliding under the covers. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, telling himself that it was common courtesy, not anything special because it was Haruhi.
"I'm comfortable. I'm still upset, though." She paused for a second before continuing. "Tonight really sucked," she laughed bitterly.
Kyoya looked at her across the bed. She made a small lump under the covers as she curled up on her side to face him, her arms tucked around her sides. He couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth.
"Haruhi, why did you agree to go out with my brother? And I don't mean to the Garden Party. Why would you want to date Akito-san? You barely know him."
He watched her bite her lip and resisted the insane urge to kiss her. But he wanted an answer, so he waited and did not move to touch her.
Haruhi lifted her gaze to his before answering. "I'm twenty-four. Most twenty-four year-olds are looking for a relationship, aren't they?" she asked rhetorically. "I've got a job I love, a decent apartment, and I just thought it'd be nice if I had someone to come home to, you know? Someone I could be happy with." Her eyes dropped down to Kyoya's hand, which was resting on one of the pillows.
"And my brother fits that description?" Kyoya questioned, not fully believing Haruhi's logic.
She sighed. "Maybe I should try online dating."
Images of Haruhi sitting through a date with someone a computer had matched her up with made Kyoya laugh. "Haruhi, I hardly think you have the patience for online dating. And since when are you so desperate to find someone to be married off to?"
"I'm not desperate to be married," Haruhi denied. "I just want . . . I mean, I just think it'd be nice to have someone special in my life. Do you have a problem with that?"
Kyoya was capture once more by Haruhi's eyes. "I do not have any problem with you having a man in your life. However, you need to pick a better man than my brother."
"Oh?" Haruhi quirked her eyebrow at him. "I thought Ootoris were perfect. How am I supposed to do better than the most sought after man in all of Japan?"
"Second most sought after," Kyoya corrected. "I believe that magazine named a different Ootori the most eligible bachelor in Japan."
Haruhi snorted. "Who? Yuiichi and your dad are both married. Oh, let me guess," she continued. "Tamaki tried the whole, 'I was adopted by Yoshio Ootori' thing again. If he keeps that up, Renge will never agree to go out with him."
She has got to be the most oblivious girl I've ever met. "I wasn't talking about Tamaki either, Haruhi," Kyoya clarified. He steeled himself before continuing. "I was talking about myself," Kyoya told her, watching as her eyes widened.
Damn it, he thought briefly before he kissed her.
Haruhi was too stunned to move when Kyoya more or less implied that he wanted to be with her. Be with her as in date her. She had remained frozen when he moved towards her, when he slid his hand across her waist, sending sparks across her skin through his dress shirt which she was wearing. When he brushed his lips against hers, though, she did move.
She didn't stop Kyoya as he deepened the kiss, but rather she encouraged it.
Haruhi slid across the remaining space to press herself against Kyoya's chest, her hands roaming across his torso and down his abdominal muscles, finally coming to rest against his hips. She pulled his legs to hers, intertwining them dangerously. Kyoya, for his part, Haruhi noted, seemed to be enjoying the kiss.
Kyoya dipped his tongue into her mouth, searching, questioning. Haruhi responded by grazing his lips with her teeth, biting down on his lower lip. She was rewarded by Kyoya moaning into her mouth. He tightened his arms around her, and Haruhi used their tangled legs as leverage to move herself closer to him. Her hands worked to unbutton his shirt while he trailed kisses from her mouth to her shoulder, making her gasp when he hit a sensitive spot on her jawline.
He must have realized she had a weak spot, because Haruhi was soon gasping into Kyoya's intoxicating smelling hair as he nibbled and sucked at her sweet spot.
"Kyoya," she mewled, unable to stop herself from sounding so breathless, which she was.
"Yes, Haruhi?" he growled against her skin. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked before tracing her collarbone with his tongue and his lips. His right hand trailed feather-soft down her neck, eliciting a shiver and a moan.
"No, I want you to stop playing around," she gasped. Haruhi pushed her hips against Kyoya's and moved her mouth to the part of his chest that was exposed. Kyoya hissed through his teeth, making Haruhi smile as she trailed her lips lightly down his chest and back up.
"Want me to stop?" she teased.
"Damn it, Haruhi," Kyoya bit out as he pulled her mouth to his as if he was unable to breathe without the connection. Haruhi gasped into Kyoya's mouth, her head dizzied by the smell of him, like mint and very expensive, very nice cologne.
Kyoya's scent was so much stronger up close. It was always pleasant and somewhat mind-numbing, but dear god, with him wrapped around her like this! She was breathing heavily, trying to take as much of him in as she could even as Kyoya caressed her shoulders and pulled enticingly at her lower lip.
She reveled in the moment as Kyoya tied their tongues together, slipping his hands under Haruhi's shirt, making her gasp again, their mouths separating briefly. Haruhi tilted her head back and allowed Kyoya to assault her neck with his mouth. She arched up into him, running her fingers through his dark hair, which was ten times softer then Akito's. Haruhi could tell she was panting as Kyoya's lips traveled lower and lower till his head was nearly at her breasts.
She knew she ought to tell him to stop, to ask what they were doing, to make them take things slower. But he was unbuttoning her top and she didn't want him to stop. So she raked her fingernails down his back and dragged him down against her instead.
Haruhi was filled with Kyoya—the scent of him, the feel of him as his hand traveled over her body and his lips and tongue brushed against her skin hungrily seeking more. Haruhi let her own tongue slide out to meet with his, tasting him like she hadn't done since—
The memories slammed in front of her eyes like she had just hit some sort of psyche wall. Haruhi shoved Kyoya off her without a word, dumping him on the floor.
She looked down at him on the ground. He looked momentarily confused before straightening himself out, including changing his expression to one of cool detachment.
"I apologize, Haruhi. I did not mean to be so forward," he remarked, not letting a slip of emotion show through his mask. This act infuriated Haruhi.
"Apologize? Forward? Kyoya, is this the first time you kissed me?" she demanded.
"Of course it is. When else would I have made such a hasty decision?"
Haruhi would have been less surprised if he had slapped her across the face. He might as well have, for all intents and purposes.
Haruhi fought back tears as she replied. "Two years ago. After Hikaru, Kaoru, and I graduated from University. You and the other guys stayed at Tamaki's after I'd left, but you came over late, drunk," Haruhi whispered and wiped at her eyes. "You started saying all these things about how much I meant to you, and then you kissed me. And I kissed you back. You fell asleep after stumbling into my bedroom. Then in the morning you didn't remember anything. Before we continue, I just want to know that's not going to happen again. I," she stuttered a bit. "I can't have that happen again, Kyoya."
She lifter her eyes to meet Kyoya's but couldn't. His glasses were reflecting the moonlight in such a manner that she couldn't see his dark grey eyes. He remained quiet too long for Haruhi's liking.
"Kyoya?" she prompted softly.
"If you don't want me to hurt you, then perhaps we should remain friends. I—I don't think a relationship between the two of us is wise."
Haruhi felt her heart freeze in her chest. He was rejecting her. She should have known she wasn't good enough for the great Kyoya Ootori, but to have him tell her, after so many years, hurt more than she had ever anticipated. Sure she was good enough to be his amusing little commoner friend, but anything more was beyond the almighty Shadow King.
Hurt flashed across her face, and she hoped Kyoya hadn't noticed.
"Fine," she choked out in a strained voice. "We're friends, just get out." She couldn't look at him or be near him, not when he was breaking her heart.
"Haruhi, that's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" she hissed at him. "Because I have to say, Kyoya, I don't think I can take anymore disappointment from the men of the Ootori family."
"Haruhi, you are one of my best friends," Kyoya started, and Haruhi braced herself. "And you are a very attractive woman, but I don't think I am what you are looking for in a . . . boyfriend."
"You just said you were, before we started all . . . this," Haruhi interjected, waving her hand around in an attempt to illustrate "this," meaning the kissing.
Kyoya sighed, and Haruhi narrowed her eyes. Was he annoyed by her? She thought, outraged.
"Like I said, you are very attractive. Besides, you went out with my brother—"
But before Kyoya could finish Haruhi cut him off. She couldn't remember being this furious with Kyoya.
"So my feelings are just part of some contest between you and your brother? God, Kyoya, can't you stop trying to beat out Akito-san for just one second?!" she shouted. She shook her head. "That's it, get out. Get the hell out of my apartment right now! I don't want to see you or speak to you for a very long time, you bastard!"
As she shouted she flung open her bedroom door and shoved Kyoya out.
"You are being ridiculous," Kyoya reprimanded, resisting Haruhi's efforts to throw him out of her apartment.
"Kyoya Ootori, if you do not leave my house in the next two seconds, I will call Mori and have him drag you out of here. You know full well Mori likes me better than you, so you know he'll do it."
Haruhi squared her shoulders under Kyoya's glare. "Fine," he said tersely. "I'm leaving. I suppose this proves we really would make a terrible couple."
The only response Haruhi could think of as Kyoya made to walk out the door of her apartment was to open the door and slam it shut behind him.
Then she fell to the floor in tears.
It really had been a terrible night for Haruhi Fujioka.
Author's Note: I do hope you liked this chapter because it took me forever, but it was a rough enough chapter for me that I can't judge my own ability. I kind of think it turned out okay, but not as great as I was hoping. Please, send in a review with any thoughts on the chapter and what I might be able to do to improve the story (besides adding in a three-way between Haruhi, Kyoya, and Akito, because that thought has crossed my mind, and I just don't think I can fit it. Sorry, guys!). Till next time!