Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Rubbing The Lamp ❯ Ch 21 Breakfast and Permission ( Chapter 28 )

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

Never before in his life had his mouth gone that dry that quickly.

 

“Shower's free,” Haruhi stated in a very calm voice. If it weren't for the fact that he could see red creeping down her cheeks, her neck, he would think that she didn't at all realize that she was practically naked in front of him. He watched as the blush made its way under the towel she wore.

 

Without even thinking about it, he knew that was all she was wearing.

 

What on earth was she doing? Alone in his room - his bed was still unmade from where they had slept in it. Dear god, they'd slept together, even if they hadn't slept together. It would be so easy to just pull that towel off her. Even though the past week had done damage, made him weaker, he knew he could overpower her if he wanted to do so.

 

Oh, he wanted to do so.

 

But she was carrying clothes. Was this a test? Was this to see if he would try anything now that he'd come clean about his original less-than-honorable intentions?

 

What should he do? What did she want him to do?

 

Swallowing first, very hard, he spoke, “Thank you.” He walked over to her, watching her closely to gauge her response. As he neared, her eyes got larger - if that was possible. Her mouth opened slightly and he could see she was breathing somewhat shallowly.

 

He leaned in and kissed her gently. She sighed into him and moved forward, wrapping her arms around him. His tongue swept into her mouth and she moaned softly. Vaguely, a part of his consciousness registered the sound of cloth falling to the floor. The clothes she'd been holding. The towel around her.

 

Oh, she undid him. The thought of taking and giving filled him. He could take now. Without thought, the couple began an aimless shamble toward the bed, unknowing. The feeling of movement ceasing, a firmness against the backs of his calves brought him to awareness of where this was headed. He really could take her now.

 

But that wasn't what he wanted anymore. Not just now. That would never be enough.

 

His will had never truly been weak.

 

He smiled softly and pulled his head slightly back from her, his hands on her shoulders, eyes trained on her own, not daring to even glance down - not even peripherally. She leaned toward him as he pulled back, as if trying to extend the kiss, convince him not to discontinue their activities.

 

Softly, “I'll be quick. The staff will be here shortly with our breakfast.”

 

Her mind tried to register what had happened. He was pulling back. Her towel had fallen and she was now naked in front of him. In the back of her head, she kept thinking, `What am I doing?' But still, she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

 

Had he changed his mind about her?

 

And then, he had turned, quickly - she noted - so as to not catch a glimpse of that which he should not see, and quickly fled to the bathroom.

 

She was left standing there, wondering why she was even there in the first place. Again she wondered what she was doing, who she was becoming. Hastily, she recovered the clothes Fuyumi had provided from the floor and more quickly than she'd ever managed before in her life, began to don them. She had been naked in front of the man who had been plotting to get her into his bed and he'd not so much as looked at her.

 

There was real concern that she was losing her sanity.

 

As she finished buttoning up the white cotton blouse that Fuyumi had provided for her to wear, over a black tank top with blue jeans and white sport socks, there was a knock at the door. She called for the knocker to enter and was astounded by the sheer number of trays that were carried into the room in response.

 

The servants silently set up the meal, nodded at her and left before she could get her thoughts together enough to even speak.

 

The food displayed made her mouth water. The scent of waffles and bacon filled the room. How many different types of fruit were on the platter? Grapefruit, Oranges, Bananas, Kiwi, Mango, Strawberries, Blueberries, Raspberries, Peaches, Plums, Lychee, and Cherries. Was that real butter? Those were the largest croissants she'd ever seen! Who could possibly eat all this?

 

Then again, Kyoya hadn't eaten in a week. He must prefer Western breakfasts - although all she'd ever seen him eat for breakfast on their outings was a slice of toast and some coffee. So he'd ordered appropriately for his need, then, to regain some of the weight he'd lost. Somehow, the thought that he'd recovered so well was unsettling.

 

He was fine, now. He no longer needed her care.

 

Apparently he had recovered from his desire for her as well.

 

As she finished that thought, she heard the door to the bathroom open and she turned without thinking toward the sound.

 

The vision that greeted her lit a fire to her anger.

 

He was mocking her. Not only had he recovered from his illness, from his desire for her, but he'd recovered enough for this!

 

He wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His ivory skin glistened, and the firmness of muscles that she hadn't considered before were now readily apparent. As he walked into the room, she could see each muscle as it moved under his skin.

 

Fury warred with some other emotion that she dared not examine or allow the light of day. Not now. This was intolerable. “You!” Words failed her.

 

“I'm… sorry, Haruhi,” he stated softly, blushing and looking away from her. “I sort of forgot to bring clothes in with me. I was… a bit distracted.”

 

His voice soothed her ire. It was apologetic and husky and almost thoroughly alleviated the fears that she dared not address.

 

He moved quickly to gather up some garments from his ill-packed drawers. Who would have thought that someone so anal about keeping things in order would allow his clothes to be folded so poorly? Before escaping to the other room to dress, he said, “Please don't wait for me to start enjoying breakfast. I… hope you like it. I wasn't sure whether you'd prefer western or traditional fare.”

 

And then, he was gone.

 

He'd ordered this for her.

 

Goodness. He had her so off center.

 

She placed a waffle and some fruit on her plate, added some syrup and poured herself a cup of coffee. Then she took a bite.

 

Yes. He apparently had 5-star chefs working in his kitchen. She closed her eyes, savoring the amazing texture and richness of the waffle. Was that a hint of malt in there?

 

He walked back into the room to see her making almost the exact same face she'd made over the torte on their date.

 

Swallowing down his reaction, he instead smiled and said, “I guess I ordered okay for us then?”

 

The woman he loved opened her eyes. “Kyoya.” She smiled shyly at him. “Please come join me.” As he walked over, she began filling his plate: two waffles, four slices of bacon, a sausage patty, a pile of scrambled eggs, plenty of each type of fruit. Then, she began cutting open a croissant and smearing butter and then jam on it. When she was done, she placed it on his plate and then sat back down. “Eat,” she commanded.

 

Bemused, he responded, “I doubt I'll be able to eat all that.”

 

Her countenance tightened and she gave him a glare. “You'll eat it all. If I have to force feed it to you, you'll eat it all.” Then she went back to her own plate. “You've lost too much weight.”

 

Softly, he smiled and began to tuck in.

 

X

 

In the end, she didn't have to feed him. Although part of him was curious to see how that would have happened.

 

They didn't finish all the food there, but they did make quite a dent. Somehow, they were able to recapture the feeling - like the conversation from their first date had never ceased.

 

But when the food was done, Kyoya just smiled at her.

 

“I… would love to spend the rest of the day with you. But… I know you have exams tomorrow.” He grimaced. He'd kind of snuck out of that problem. “Could I… If I have one of my drivers take you back home, could I come pick you up for dinner tonight?”

 

It really was ridiculous. She'd been standing naked in front of him only about an hour ago, yet his asking her out to dinner made her blush. She wanted to scrub at her cheeks to remove the red there. Instead, she smiled softly and nodded. “I'd like that.”

 

He smiled back, standing and extending a hand to her. Threading her hand through his arm, he escorted her down to the care of his favorite driver. After kissing her and making sure she was comfortable in the back, he tapped on the window. When the driver rolled it down he said in a rough voice, “Be careful driving.” The driver couldn't help but chuckle at the tone and all it implied.

 

He waited and watched until the limo was out of sight before heading toward his father's office.

 

Once there, he strode with a purpose to stand in front of Ootori-sama's desk.

 

“Kyoya,” his father said without inflection and without looking up. “Your sister said you wanted to talk to me.” As he finished his sentence, he finished his typing, closed his laptop and looked up at his youngest son.

 

“Father, I have made a decision.”

 

One eyebrow raised on the oldest Ootori's face. “Oh?” He took in the gaunt look of his son. Fuyumi had not mentioned anything about this. Had he been ill?

 

“Yes. I plan to ask Fujioka Haruhi to marry me.”

 

Now both eyebrows were raised. He tilted his head so that the light would reflect off his glasses, hiding the way they crinkled in amusement. “I see. And have you received permission from her father?”

 

The youngest son's mouth tightened for a second before he responded. “I plan to ask his permission this afternoon. However, even if he should refuse to grant permission, Haruhi makes up her own mind on issues like these. I do not anticipate that she will reject me.”

 

He swallowed and continued, “And if she were to reject me, I would continue to pursue her. I will not rest until she is mine.” He nodded as he concluded. Yes. That pretty much summed up all that was important to him anymore.

 

“What about the Suoh boy?”

 

Kyoya couldn't help but grin. “She does not love him.”

 

“Hm,” his father commented. “And if I were to tell you that *I* do not grant my permission for such a union?”

 

A curt nod of the son's head preceded his answer, “If you were to attempt to stand in my way, it would make no difference. I will not allow *any* obstacles to stand in my way.”

 

He watched his father, looking to find any clue to his response. There was none. His stoic mask remained in place until he swiveled his chair away from his son.

 

“You are prepared to give up everything for this girl.”

 

“Hn.”

 

Softly, Ootori-sama began to chuckle. Then, it grew louder, then louder til it was a full out belly laugh.

 

The chair spun back around quickly, before Kyoya had the chance to close his now hanging jaw. His father was… laughing?

 

“Oh, Kyoya. You have my blessing. She seems quite a match for you. In will, determination, intelligence.” He removed his glasses so his son could see his humor was genuine, could see the pride shining in his eyes. “Try to delay the actual wedding until you've both graduated high school, will you?”

 

“Father?” Never had his expression in the presence of his father been more apparent - he was truly confused. His father was laughing, and… had he just complimented him? Had he slipped into an alternate dimension? One where Haruhi loved him and his father was… proud of him?

 

Standing, his father walked around the desk toward him.“You are the only one of my children to have enough sense of purpose and self to stand up to me for what you want. I am proud of your strength of will. I will support you in this, my son.” He bowed to him.

 

Before he could stop himself, Kyoya found himself grinning at his father. And then, he realized what he was doing. He replaced the grin on his face with a careful mask of indifference and returned the bow to his father. “Thank you, father.”

 

His father's expression changed to an unscrupulous smirk. “Well, I believe you have a certain piece of jewelry to purchase and an insanely overprotective potential father-in-law to visit.” He walked back toward his desk as an obvious dismissal.

 

As Kyoya neared the door, he thought he heard his father softly say, “Good luck, son.”

 

X

 

Closing the door behind him, he began to berate himself. Crap, crap, crap! Ryoji! He'd totally forgotten about Ranka-san. What was he going to do now?

 

Ranka was as protective of Haruhi as Tamaki. Of course, Tamaki was the reason why Haruhi had forgiven him in the first place.

 

Tamaki!

 

Oh, man. He owed that French prince big time now. He smiled warmly. He'd never had such a good friend before. Tamaki really was a prince among men.

 

And after today, he'd owe him even more.

 

But first, he had a date with his sister.

 

X

 

Haruhi closed her English textbook and rubbed her eyes. Ugh. The rest of her classes combined didn't stress her out as much as English. All those extra words that they throw into their sentences. And the grammatical rules changed so frequently. How did anyone ever learn to speak the damned language, much less write it correctly? Yet, it was necessary. If she were to become a successful lawyer, she needed to work with other countries around the world. Learning English was vital. Which is why she spent three times longer studying English than any other subject. She would master it or die trying.

 

Some tea might help her collect herself for round two.

 

She stood to make her way to the kitchen when a soft rapping at the door caught her attention. She opened it to find a smiling Tamaki. It gave her the strangest feeling of déjà vu. “Tamaki-senpai. Shouldn't you be home studying?”

 

He gave her a sunny grin. “Ah, but how could I possibly study when all I could think about was the health and well-being of my precious daughter?”

 

A look of dispassionate disbelief on her face, she responded, “Are you seriously going to go back to the whole father-daughter idiocy?”

 

He winked at her and replied, “Would you prefer it if I called you my beloved sister?”

 

She couldn't help but laugh. “Come in if you're going to. I was just about to take a tea break. And then, maybe you can help me practice my English.”

 

After a genteel bow, he entered and followed her into the kitchen to help her prepare the tea. As she set the kettle to boil, he couldn't help but begin with questions. “So?”

 

Haruhi cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. “So, what?”

 

He shook his head. “So, how is he? How are you?” He practically danced in place with all the questions he was holding back from asking her.

 

With a small, soft smile, she responded. “He's… better. I stayed and made sure he got some sleep. Then, he ate breakfast with me and then I came home to study.”

 

She paused to study her sempai. “Tamaki-sempai, I… Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

She punched him in the shoulder gently and then the kettle began to whistle.

 

X

 

Fuyumi was trying her best not to giggle. But her attempts were not going so well - not with how her baby brother was behaving. He was so incredibly cute, and she had never been happier for him.

 

“No. No. Nothing this big. It's just too… ostentatious. It doesn't match her at all!” He was tapping his fingers on the glass case in frustration.

 

She just wanted to pull him into a big bear hug.

 

Instead, she laid one hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly. “Kintaro, what we need is something that is no nonsense, yet delicate. It can't be terribly feminine at first appearance, but the longer you look at it, the more you appreciate its natural beauty. The stone should not be large - even a full carat is probably too much for the delicacy of her hand - but it should be flawless. And I think my little brother would probably be willing to commission something. Can we look at your stones, and then you can do a couple sketches for the band?”

 

Kyoya looked over at his sister with gratitude. He knew he was bringing her along for a reason.

 

After looking through the loupe at a dozen stones, he found the perfect one. It was an oval cut, virtually flawless, and even without looking through the loupe, it practically shone with its own internal glow. And at half a carat, it wouldn't overpower her hand. Then, Fuyumi talked him into two triangular sapphires that were such a dark blue, they were practically indigo, to offset the diamond. And Kintaro drew a sketch of the band - It was two separate rings, but twisted around each other so perfectly that they couldn't be separated, giving the appearance of a chain - but so fine that they almost appeared to be platinum lace. The drawing of the final product to be completed was… it was perfect.

 

As they left the jeweler, Kyoya squeezed his sister's hand and she gave up even trying. She pulled him into a hug, grinning from ear to ear.

 

“So now that you've got the ring picked out, how are you going to pop the question?”

 

She couldn't help but laugh at the blank look that covered his face. He hadn't thought about that yet.

 

X

 

As Haruhi translated the paragraph Tamaki had written for her in English, he pulled out his Blackberry and sent out a quick text: “Now good. Papa home. She studies English.”

 

After he sent it out, he sat back until she finished her translation and handed it over for him to correct. He had just enough time to begin to read through it when the phone rang. As she shifted to stand and answer it, he pulled her forward by pointing out an error in translation. “You got the words right, but the meaning isn't quite there. You see, right here,” he pointed and surreptitiously watched Ranka answering the phone, “this is an *idiom.*” His voice got a bit louder as it usually did when he was about to go into a rant. It stayed loud until Ranka moved into the other room. “Idioms don't always mean what their words mean. Here, `at a loss' doesn't mean that he's lost something, it means that he doesn't understand. When you get to something where the translation doesn't seem to make sense, look at it contextually and make a guess based on the rest of the paragraph. Kotobayoshi-sensei typically throws in one or two idioms into his finals. Your best bet is to put the meaning in your translation and then put the direct translation in parenthesis.”

 

Ryoji came out into the front room and said, “Haruhi, that was work. They need me to come in for about an hour. Sato got a flat tire and Suki has to go pick up her son from daycare before they close.”

 

Before you knew it, he was out the door. Tamaki quickly grabbed his Blackberry to tell Kyoya not to call when a message came across for him. “Thx. Meeting is on. Can you come by in an hour and a half?” He sighed in relief and then turned back to write another paragraph for Haruhi to translate.

 

X

 

The words echoed in Fujioka Ryoji-san's ears, words spoken by the third son of one of the richest and most powerful families in Japan: “I may never be good enough to deserve her, but if you grant me permission, I promise to cherish your daughter for the rest of my life. I will dedicate myself to making her happy.”

 

Blinking, Ryoji asked, “Are you… asking for her hand in marriage?”

 

Face tight, Kyoya nodded.

 

“Why?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Ranka sighed and repeated himself, “Why? Why do you want to marry my daughter?” His mouth was set in a thin line. His expression irritated.”

 

Kyoya paused, and then he took off his glasses. “I'm not sure how to answer that. Telling you I love her doesn't seem enough. I do know that being without her is unbearable. And if you need me to beg for permission,” he kneeled before the cross-dresser, “I will do so. Please, Ranka-san.”

 

Hands fluttered up to his heart as he stared at the attractive young man kneeling at his feet. “Oh. Oh, my.” And then, he was laughing and crying as he pulled him into a firm embrace. “To whom else would I entrust my precious daughter?”

 

X

 

 

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 )