Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 11 Mori's Second Wish ( Chapter 18 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Sorry for the lengthy delay in posting. First, my muse went MIA. Then, I had to sew some summer clothes so that I wouldn't sweat to death on my vacation to the desert SW. And then, when I got back, my girl kitty got sick. She's actually got chronic renal failure, and we're doing all we can to make her comfortable and happy. There's no telling whether she'll last another day, another week, another month, or another year. She's been with me for over 16 years, so this is really stressing me out. So, if I don't post as quickly as you would like, please try to remember that I'm only human and I've got things. I will finish this fic, no worries, but it may take some time. I thank you for your patience.

 

Disclaimer: Ouran Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori. I make no profit off this story. If Bisco Hatori-san wishes, I will remove this from the web upon her personal request.

 

This chapter was written as a response to the week 56 Makin' Lemonaide challenge theme: “Clothing. It makes the man. Or woman. But sometimes, it can also make the situation.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

She'd woken up that morning with a bit of a headache. But thankfully, some aspirin and a bottle of water had pushed it back. It could have been worse. She could have a hangover. And she could have had dreams.

 

That, alone, made her forgive the raspberries: no dreams she had to try to interpret, to distract her all day. She was able to focus on her classes more than she had in two weeks.

 

Of course, that wouldn't be hard, all things considered.

 

With everything going on, she still felt a bit twitchy. The twins had smiled at her in class and played their normal games. And a couple of times they'd leaned in toward her. Her eyes had widened each time as she quickly tried to decide what to do. But then they'd pulled back like they always had in the past.

 

She was starting to become completely convinced that the kisses were merely alcohol induced fantasies.

 

And she could not deny what that meant. It meant she really had wanted them to kiss her. But their mother's words kept coming back to her. There were six boys in her club to whom she owed wishes. Six boys that had been appearing in her dreams. Was there one who she wanted to kiss more than the others?

 

How did one know the answer to that question?

 

(Kiss them all and find out which you like best…)

 

She just didn't know.

 

And besides, just because there were six boys that she cared for, that didn't mean that any of them wanted to kiss her, now did it?

 

(No. But do you want to kiss them?)

 

 

With these thoughts circling her brain, she “focused” on note taking and trying to absorb the key information her teachers were imparting prior to the impending final exams. She even managed to not once wonder what task Takashi might have set for her.

 

X

 

Years of practice were paying off.

 

One of the most important elements to being successful in martial arts is schooling one's expressions to stillness. No emotions are broadcast from which an opponent might learn of your weakness. And Morinozuka Takashi had mastered this skill early on. Currently, he was glad for his years of training. It kept him from smiling at her as she awkwardly mimicked his movements.

 

Adorable in her borrowed gi, he watched her continue through the forms. She had agreed to allow him to train her for the day, presumably to test his capability as a teacher. She really did accept everything at face value. While there was some truth to his statements - teaching those who already have a base upon which to build is not a good test of teaching skills and he was considering an education minor so that he could become an official instructor for the Haninozuka dojo - he neglected to advise her of his most sincere reasons for choosing this particular task for his wish: it allowed for some physical contact, but only in a platonic way so he could keep himself from doing anything inappropriate and it gave him a chance to do her some good.

 

The whole bargain stank. The more he pondered it, the more certain he was that it would only end poorly for all involved.

 

If she were merely only a passing fancy, some “wild oats” to be sown and then trampled, this challenge would still be dishonorable. However, for someone who truly loved her… she just deserved better. How desperate were they all that they had to sink to this type of agreement?

 

Through many sleepless nights, he had reflected upon her countenance as she pulled away from him after the first wish. She had bolted like a frightened rabbit. She had been scared of him and his emotion. He would not place her in such an uncomfortable situation again.

 

His decision was made. All three wishes would be platonic and would be specifically designed to provide more benefit to her than himself. Okay, he'd allow himself the pleasure of touching her, but just so long as that was all. And only if she benefited more than he.

 

He had managed to allow her a first taste of ootoro with his first wish. Now, he would teach her a few basic moves so that if she ever again found herself in a situation like the one on that cliff at the beach, she wouldn't have to rely on anyone to save her. It wasn't much, but he could at least do that much for her.

 

What his third wish would be, he hadn't yet decided. It was probably best to see how this one went first. But he had no plans of asking for anything like what they had drunkenly discussed three weeks ago.

 

So now, here they were, in matching gi, moving through the forms of a basic warmup kata for the 10th time. She had absolutely zero practice at moving her body, no dance or gym requirements from her previous schools. Her arms and legs moved woodenly through the movements. But she was a quick learner in that she remembered each pose in order and the direction her limbs were supposed to go from one pose to the next.

 

The look of concentration on her face was precious, something he would carry with him for the rest of his life. That and the way that the gi was clinging to her in certain places. That would stay with him as well.

 

“Can you continue without me?” he asked her over his shoulder. He used few words, but she understood that he was asking whether she'd remember the stances in the proper order without using him for reference.

 

“Hai,” she grunted and continued moving as he dropped out of the forms, circling behind her to better correct her stance.

 

“Hold,” he commanded and she froze in the middle of a pose. “Bend here,” he said, his hand circling and pressing gently behind her right knee. Through the rough cotton he could feel the soft give of her flesh transferring its warmth to the palm of his hand. A tingle ran up his arm at the contact, but he mentally shook it off. He'd made up his mind and would follow through on his promise to himself.

 

Haruhi swallowed hard as he came closer to her, her brow furrowing in her concentration. Sinking a bit until his pressure stopped, she was surprised to discover she felt a lot steadier in the position - like she could hold the pose indefinitely. And, as she relaxed, her shoulder released its tension and her arm naturally slid to where it was supposed to be in the first place. He moved his hand off her leg somewhat reluctantly, hoping, as he surreptitiously pressed his hand to his chest, both that he could hold on to the sensation and that he could forget her heat.

 

Resuming a stance that was all business, he nodded at her and pulled back a pace, saying, “Good. Continue.”

 

She began moving into the next position, still very aware of how close he was behind her. She could feel the heat radiating, following his movements as he paced behind her. How was she supposed to place her body the right way with him watching her where she couldn't see? Every time she moved, she felt his presence anew. Still, it was probably better than seeing him in that gi. He looked even more… even more Takashi than ever. (Do you want him to kiss you?)

 

Grrr. Focus! These boys. If nothing else, once she got to law school there was nothing likely to be as distracting as they and if she could focus around them, she was sure to succeed.

 

Her movements continued, a bit clunkily, but accurately - they were mechanical like an automaton. Fierce concentration radiated off her like steam. He paused her motions a few more times to provide correction and each time, she swallowed hard at the feel of his hand touching her shoulder, knee, ankle, wrist. After he removed it, her mind warred over awareness of his presence behind her and how much easier it was to go through the movements when her muscles were in the right positions.

 

They continued on, and soon he stopped touching her, simply calling out corrections, “Shoulder,” or “Knee.” She would automatically make the adjustment on her own. She didn't know whether to be relieved that he'd stepped further back from her than before - she could no longer feel his warmth - or disappointed. It was easier to focus, but…still… now she had no idea where he was in the room. If it wasn't for his corrections, she wouldn't be certain he was still there. (So close. He's so close.) And why did that make her heart pound so much?

 

He marveled at her capacity to absorb. It was no wonder she was a scholarship student if this was all the correction she needed to learn. He had enjoyed touching her too much, and determined a need to pull back, forcing some distance. The skin on the palms of his hands still tingled where they had made contact with her.

 

She was still too tense, causing her movements to be very wooden, but for a beginner, he was impressed. Of course, he shouldn't be surprised. This was Haruhi, after all. She was the only girl he'd ever met that made him struggle for control.

 

“Stop,” he called at the end of the last kata. She froze in position and he said, “Let's move on.”

 

She turned and faced him, her expression curious but somewhat tight, causing him to frown slightly. If he didn't get her to release her tension, she'd end up hurting herself as they went on. But remembering her usual stress release gave him an idea for how to solve this problem. Holding up both his palms, he said to her, “Hit me,” gesturing with his hands that she should punch him in the palm.

 

“Wh- what?” She stood up even straighter in her surprise.

 

“Like this,” he closed a fist and punched at an invisible partner, showing her the way to move. Then, holding up his hands again, said, “Hit me. Here.”

 

“But…”

 

He smiled at her and tried to reassure her, “Don't worry.”

 

Still she hesitated. “You can't hurt me.”

 

His voice was kind, but he'd chosen his words to make her feel as if he thought her weak. Standing a bit straighter, she scowled at him and he could almost hear her thinking, `Oh, I CAN'T, can't I?' She pulled a fist and threw a punch at one of his hands. Without blinking, he said, “Again,” as if it was no more than the landing of a fly.

 

She paused only a second, only briefly registering irritation that she hadn't phased him before she struck his palm again, a bit louder this time.

 

“Again.”

 

Punch.

 

“Again.”

 

Punch.

 

“Other hand.” He gestured that she should switch to her off hand and punch his other palm now.

 

It took considerably more effort to swing with her left hand, but she did manage to land the punch. Of course he'd had to move his open hand a bit so she didn't miss. And that made her visibly irritated with herself.

 

“Again.”

 

Smack. The second punch landed firmly in his palm, but was still quite light.

 

“Harder.”

 

Smack.

 

“Harder.”

 

Smack.

 

“Watch,” he said, pulling back. “This is you.” Then he imitated her body's movement as she punched with her right hand. His hand was higher than his shoulder and he looked off balance. Plus, his weight stayed on his back foot, the arm was the only force generating the punch. He did the move again, but a bit more slowly.

 

“This is better.” Moving even more slowly, he moved his fist so that it was just a few inches from his own shoulder. As his arm moved forward, he shifted weight from one foot to the other, his shoulder following through, his entire body rooted in the movement of his fist. “Energy comes from the earth, through my legs, up to my shoulder, then out the fist.”

 

He saw her brow scrunched as she tried to figure out what she did wrong.

 

“Stand like you were.”

 

He moved behind her, his body pressed up against her own. She quietly swallowed hard. He was fire behind her. His firm support made her feel soft and weak. And the scent of freshly laundered bedsheets that had been dried in the sun, with an underlying air of a cedar forest that broke through in intermittent gaps, enveloped her and made her knees feel rubbery.

 

(Decide. Do you want…) Shut up!

 

The feel of her against him made him groan - just in his head, he had more discipline than that. `This might not have been the best plan.'

 

His voice came out gruffly as he instructed her, “Make a fist.”

 

She did and he took it in his hand, holding it near her own shoulder. All he had to do was move his arms a few inches and he could be embracing her. Heat from her exertion pressed at him, pulled at his resolution. Gritting his teeth, he scolded himself and placed his legs behind hers. It may have been a bad idea, but he knew it would help show her, by moving her whole body with his own, indicating the movements she should take with a punch. She shivered in his grasp and he said, “Keep moving so you don't get cold.”

 

Being behind her, he missed her rolled eyes and gritted teeth.

 

Several more times he had her repeat the motion of a correct punch with each hand. It was probably more times than needed to learn the move, but he was hesitant to release her. Internally, he knew it was wrong, but she felt good. Was he never to be allowed a small amount of selfishness? Still, he knew he couldn't keep it up indefinitely. Not if he wanted her to learn how to protect herself. Finally, he stepped back and then walked around her where he again posed with his palms up.

 

“Now. Hit me.”

 

He saw her look up and down at him, her expression tight and guarded, then she perfectly mimicked the movement he'd shown.

 

He smiled at her slightly and gave her a brief nod.

 

“Better.”

 

X

 

10 minutes later, she was able to throw a halfway decent punch and a few kicks. He was beginning to regret not using the bags for his own safety. Normally when training someone to punch or kick, you had them kick into a bag. But he knew she would not have enough force to do any real damage and this way, there was some physical contact.

 

It wasn't that he wanted to touch her, (yeah right, that's why you stood behind her and guided her by pressing up against her?) so much as that he knew she'd need to get past the idea of bodily contact for the throws. If she felt uncomfortable with touching him, hitting him, she'd remain too tense to be able to use gravity and her “assailant's” own inertia to bring him down.

 

But she was moving easily now. She had no fear about hitting him. It was time to show her some throws. If he could teach her one or two moves, he'd know that in a bad situation, she'd at least have a chance - so long as the guy didn't know any moves of his own. And in today's society, those chances were pretty good.

 

The question was how to show her.

 

There weren't any other people around to use as an example. And he didn't want to have to throw her if he didn't have to. She wasn't trained in falling and she might get hurt. And Falling was usually the first lesson in martial arts, but he only had the one class to teach her. That was not enough time for her to learn it AND learn a throw.

 

He would just have to improvise.

 

“I want you to throw me.” He waited for her incredulous look which arrived just on schedule. New students always had a hard time believing that a smaller opponent could throw a larger one. “Watch how I grab you and then do the same movement to me.”

 

They stood facing each other and he stepped in slowly, exaggerating his movement. His arm wrapped around her waist from behind and he thrust his hip toward her. He was rather proud of himself for not groaning at the contact. Maybe his discipline was returning. Good. He pulled up a bit until she was leaning against his hip bone, stopping at the point where she would begin to tip over.

 

He released her and took a step back. Then he nodded at her and did the move again, just as slowly.

 

“Now you.”

 

`Right. Now me.' She tried not to let her expression of disbelief be visible, but he could read her loud and clear.

 

“Just like I showed you.”

 

Shooting him one last look of irritation, she stepped in, and reached around his waist. Dear god, he was firm like a tree. And warm. And she was pressed up against him. Trying to keep herself from trembling, she pulled the way he'd shown.

 

Her arm was wrapped around him and he felt her tug and grunt loudly. But to no effect. She pulled again, and nothing. It was like trying to pick up an oak with your bare hands. That is, if an oak tree made your heart race and your stomach flip and parts you normally didn't think about tingle. If you couldn't stop thinking about how easy it would be to rip the gi off a tree to see and touch the firm muscles beneath. Stepping back, she placed her fists on her hips and scowled. “I don't think I can do this.”

 

That cute pout on her face was too much. He wanted to laugh. Hard. Instead, he grimaced. He needed to teach her how to defend herself. This was one of the most basic throws. But there was one that she might be better able to handle. He'd have to throw her first, though.

 

“Okay. Let's try something else. I'll… have to throw you to show you. Relax and you shouldn't land too hard. I'll be careful to not hurt you.”

 

Her brow furrowed again at that. `What? Does he think I'm THAT weak?' Scowling at him as he awaited her answer, she couldn't help but remember how firm his muscles were as she tried to attempt the first throw. God, he was like iron. Unbidden, she imagined what it would feel like to have him press her up against the wall and kiss her. She would be weak. Weak and totally helpless. He would be able to do anything. She would be helpless. Helpless.

 

Like Kyoya had tried to show her at the beach house. And now, she got it.

 

Damn it. He was giving her something again! This was supposed to be his wish she was fulfilling and here he was trying to help her protect herself. Why hadn't she seen it before? Nodding at him to continue, she thought, `I need to learn as well as I can, so that I can reassure him that he doesn't need to worry about me. It's the least I can do.'

 

“Okay,” he stated, “Come at me like you're an attacker.”

 

“An attacker?” she asked. “What kind of insane person would attack *you*?”

 

“It's for a demonstration: what to do if some guy - some one - attacks you.” Gesturing again, “Come at me.”

 

A brief shrug of her shoulders and then she ran toward him, determined to punch him if she could.

 

Quickly, he grabbed her wrists in either hand. He didn't move against her, but absorbed her movement, allowing it to continue on into him as he rolled backwards - almost like he had decided to sit down for a second, but with one foot up and braced in her abdomen.

 

“Oof!” she grunted as her own momentum through his rolling motion brought her into his foot and then over his head as he did what could only be described as a backwards somersault. “Hufh!” her breath came out of her again as she landed on her back on the mat. Before she could blink, he had completed his backwards roll and was now on his hands and knees over top of her, his large, strong hands still encircling her wrists, pressing them into the mat on either side of her head.

 

She looked up into his eyes - they were only inches from her own. His body was over hers, she was completely helpless. Shallow panting breaths were not helping her to remain calm. `I… I want…' (You do. You want…)

 

If he bent forward slightly their noses would be touching. Or, he could kiss her. She was staring up at him and her eyes were wide, searching his own. Just a slight movement and he could… He had to remember why he was here!

 

“From this position, you're in control. You can,” he swallowed as thoughts of other meanings for his words raced through, “do whatever you want and the other person couldn't stop you.”

 

She nodded once tersely and swallowed hard. (Whatever you want. Do it.)

 

Her gi had separated at the neck and he could see her porcelain skin peeking out below her neck - almost like it was begging to be touched, kissed. It would move so easily, freeing her for him. He struggled to not lick his lips.

 

His heat was above her, around her. He could do anything he wanted, so why wasn't he? She was drowning in his eyes. Did she misread his actions from the last wish? Why wouldn't he…

 

She wriggled her hips unconsciously and he realized how close they were. Her wide eyes staring at him. `I'm making her uncomfortable,' he thought and moved to the side, quickly standing and offering her a hand to help her up. As she took his hand, he heard a sigh of relief.

 

Letting out a huff of frustration, she was proud of herself for not actually growling as she took his hand. As soon as she got to her feet, she looked at him and said, “My turn.” (My turn.)

 

If the person on top would be in complete control, then damn it, she was going to take her chance. If he didn't feel the same, she'd apologize and blame it on… hitting her head on the way down. But she knew what she wanted at this moment. Finally. What came after, she didn't know, but that would come after.

 

He nodded and came at her. She moved inexpertly, but he wanted her to succeed so he allowed her access to his wrists. Once she had them, she put her foot in his gut - damn if she didn't have to lift her leg awfully high to reach - and pulled on him as she sat back and rolled. Pushing a bit with her leg, she lifted him over her head and a startled smile broke out on her lips as she heard him hit the mat.

 

Nowhere near done, she continued to roll. The backwards somersault wasn't exactly easy, but she was motivated. Finally, she was straddling him on hands and knees.

 

With his small smile, he wanted to compliment her on her success. But “Good j-” was all the came out before she closed the distance. Her lips captured his as she pushed his wrists down, holding them still against the mat.

 

Surprised, he gasped and she deepened her assault, darting her tongue in to taste him. Clean, almost herbal - but she couldn't quite place the flavor. Something like pine nuts or roasted green tea, but not quite anything, really. The taste was uniquely Takashi.

 

She was kissing him! As startled as he was by the initial kiss, he was that much more startled as she deepened it and pressed into him. He couldn't help but moan into her as his tongue began its own exploration.

 

`Wait. What?' his brain struggled to make sense of it all. `Supposed to not… Why is she…?' **Shut up and enjoy it.**

 

`I'm not supposed to…' **Hey, she kissed me! I didn't start anything.**

 

She shifted slightly and he groaned loudly. It was very hard to think with her heat pressing down on him. Her weight shifted and he could feel her align perfectly, making his spontaneous erection pulse happily.

 

As she adjusted herself for better leverage, she felt him twitch, pressing into her more fully. There was no mistaking *that* for a hipbone! The pressure was… oh, god, it was so good.

 

Something between a moan and a sigh caught his attention. Had she really made that sound? It didn't make sense. `Does this mean that she… she likes me?'

 

He smiled into the kiss. She could feel it. She was making him happy and she couldn't help but smile back.

 

As she relaxed, he took control, rolling her over so he could be on top. His lips broke from hers and trailed down her neck to her collarbone. He was teasing her there - like Hikaru had done the night before. (That's right. Hikaru kissed you here just last night. So. Which do you prefer?) `I…'

 

He felt her stiffen slightly and he pulled back. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But he would not - would NOT - continue this if he wasn't absolutely certain it was what she wanted. He had to stop now while he still could.

 

“You let your guard down,” he said. “A real attacker would use that to take advantage.”

 

“You…” Without thinking, she reached up and touched his face. He was looking down at her. To anyone else, he would appear stoic and unmoved. But she knew him. He was worried. Upset with himself. He really shouldn't be. She didn't deserve it. “You would never take advantage of me.”

 

With those words, he looked away from her, ashamed. If she only knew about this stupid arrangement, she would not say that. He was still kneeling over her, offering her but limited mobility. “Takashi…”

 

His name from her lips. No honorifics. He didn't deserve her to speak his name. Not after agreeing to this stupid plan. “Haruhi. Men are very stupid when it comes to the women they love.” Quickly he stood up and again offered her his hand to help her up. “Don't trust so much.”

 

“Thank you for trying to help me, Takashi,” she said as she rose from the ground. “But you don't need to worry about me. Really.” Wait. Did he just say “women they love”? Does that mean…?

 

Half a backwards step, eyes wide, she gasped and asked, “Takashi…?”

 

He nodded at her tersely. Yes. I am in love with you. And then he spoke, his eyes not quite meeting hers, “I think you learned the move. You're a good student. When you're done with your shower, my driver will take you home.”

 

Before she could say anything, he'd fled the room. She was left standing in the middle of the practice room, staring after him, wondering what the hell had just happened.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Secondary Disclaimer: All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age. While that might seem unlikely - as three of the characters are only sophomores in high school, I figure it this way: if Bisco Hatori-san can ignore the students graduating for two years in a row and keep everyone in the same grade, I can then apply that logic to their ages. Therefore, Haruhi, Kaoru and Hikaru are just 18. Kyoya and Tamaki are about to turn 19. Mori is about to turn 20, and Huni already is 20. (Therefore, according to Japanese figuring, Huni is the only adult. :P )