Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Self Control ❯ Self Control ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: taterbean96 
A rainy night finds Kyoya deep in thought over his ever evolving feelings towards Haruhi
Anime/Manga: Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 06.24.2013 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 535 | Status: Work In Progress
A rainy night finds Kyoya deep in thought over his ever evolving feelings towards Haruhi
Anime/Manga: Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 06.24.2013 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 535 | Status: Work In Progress
(The Courtship of Haruhi Fujioka…)
Self Control…
By taterbean96
Kyoya Ootori was a controlled man. No, not a hard-hearted man. His friends could attest that Kyoya would do next to anything for the people closest to him. He had shown selflessness before in different situations to friends and family, a sense of loyalty to those he cared about. But he was master of self control none the less.
And he prided himself on this disciplined trait.
None of his Host Club comrades could lay claim to such a noble mannerism, with the possible exception of Mori. Least controlled, least disciplined of all, his best friend and club knucklehead, Tamaki Suoh.
Kyoya’s controlled, clear and calculating mind has been one of the prominent reasons that the Host Club was a success. Kyoya’s ultimate competency and Tamaki’s narcissism and earnest desire to see all women happy had led to Ouran’s most successful social club in the school’s history.
Kyoya was equally proud of the fact that as the Club continually was a smash hit with the ladies of Ouran, he was able to pull his own ongoing gain from the group as well. He was not ignorant to his importance of the profitability of the Club. Hell, he thought, I am the profitability…
Yet as he rode silently in the back of his sleek, black limo, gazing out the raindrop speckled window, his fingers drummed uneasily, silently on his knee. A sure tell sign of an underlying disturbance to the confident Shadow King.
The rain. His worried mind turned to her.
Haruhi.
The glitch he had not foreseen in the program.
When?
When did his first idea of using her merely as a means to repay her debt, use her as pure gain for the Club and his fellow hosts, bloom into a friendship?
His fingers still drummed restlessly on his bent knee. A muffled rumble of thunder and his concerned, slate eyes lifted skyward, his glasses reflecting the drops off the window…
It had been at the Physical exam last year. The worry he had felt when he and the other club members discovered she was in harm’s way of an intruder…He remembered the uncomfortable alarm, the quickened pace of his heartbeat on that day. They had to; he had to…to get to her before...before…
So unlike Kyoya to feel such towards someone he barely met…a feeling of a vibration, a stiff guitar string plucked, stirring up an unknown sound inside his cool, collected soul. He didn’t like the unfamiliar ripple effect it caused.
Because of that incident, he had been forced to acknowledge that he was fond of Haruhi. She was unique, a fascinating person and a complete contrast to the other girls that invaded Kyoya’s life.
A flash streaking the sky forced Kyoya to slide forward in his seat. His eyes narrowing at the driver, he spoke a soft, but demanding order.
“Please, hurry.”
Slipping back into his previous position, feeling the car move faster now, Kyoya let his thoughts consume him again. Acknowledging friendship and kind feelings toward Haruhi had been weighed carefully by the Club’s Shadow King. He could not afford to soften towards her as she was still indebted to the Club. He would not allow himself, however, to get any closer in case a question of leniency came up in regards to her debt.
Kyoya knew Haruhi’s great sense of pride. She would never opt out of repaying her debt. It was her responsibility and she took ownership of it. She was far too noble and honorable to even think of asking for leniency towards her debt…but Kyoya was cautious.
Feelings could get messy; he witnessed it every day with Tamaki. The Club prince wore his feelings out for everyone to see, making a fool of himself time and again. So Kyoya continued on with his passive demeanor towards the cross dressing club member. Only showing interest in what could be gained from her.
Kyoya’s handsome face, smirked, showing self irritation.
So when had it move beyond this logical agreement he had made with himself? The one that said he’d stay away from her so not to become a babbling idiot like Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru? They fell all over her constantly. Something she herself couldn’t stand, but as the Host Club’s dog, tolerated it to the best of her ability. That sort of idiotic behavior wasn’t in the cool Shadow King anyway.
Ah, yes.
The beach house.
That was when.
Her silly idea that she could take on two grown men; protect the Club clients from their attack. Thank God for Tamaki’s quick thinking, saving her from the fall into the ocean. Kyoya smiled slightly at the memory of the twins pulverizing the culprits. He had stood by, not stopping the assault, not wanting to either…
She had stumbled into his room after dinner, not feeling well. He remembered clearly as she came out of the bathroom, apologizing to him for her thoughtlessness towards her friends in her actions.
He was angry, though not an ounce showed on his stoic face. He sipped his water bottle and told her he hadn’t been especially worried. Inside, his feelings were quite different.
How could she be so insensitive towards them? Her indifference to sexes, her desire to see a person for who they truly are on the inside, blinded her to the fact that not all people had good intentions…blinded her to her friends who would help her, defend and stand beside her…
The limo pulled up to a stop outside of the apartment complex that housed the Fujioka family unit. Kyoya snatched his umbrella as the rain was now coming down in a sheet. The lightning was flashing more frequently now…
He had grabbed her, tossed her nearly weightless slip of a frame onto the bed, was hovering above her. His legs pinning her firmly in place, his hands pressing into the bed, holding him above her upper body. Staring down at her big, startled brown eyes, he felt it.
A heated longing had erupted in his lower belly as he looked down on her. She was beautiful.
Then she spoke.
“You won’t do it, Kyoya-senpai. I know, because you have nothing to gain from sleeping with me.” Her voice was soft, clear.
And she had been right. He didn’t have anything to gain from a rash, heated moment. But he had seen. He had seen her face, the beauty, the innocence, the intelligence…all that was Haruhi Fujioka. That was when his controlled feelings towards her seemed to begin unwinding.
She told him that he was showing her what Tamaki-senpai had been trying to say to her earlier. That, he, Kyoya-senpai is unexpectedly a very nice person.
Now sitting on the edge of the bed, he had looked at her skeptically. He decided in that moment to allow her to keep thinking those had been his intentions. To some degree those were his intentions. He had been angry with her for her impulsiveness.
The unexpected was seeing her defenseless underneath him. Her lips begging to be kissed and his heated desire to do so…
Kyoya wrapped quickly on the apartment door. Another crash, loud and near, caused him to startle slightly. Would she open the door? Ranka said she was alone due to his working late when he’d phoned Kyoya.
“Haruhi? It’s Kyoya. Open up.” He said, leaning in closer towards the door.
Nothing. Damn.
He gripped the door knob and it turned in his hand. His eyebrow hiked, painting an irritated look on his handsome face. She didn’t even lock the door? His heart quickened, eyes opening wider in worry…what if…someone was in there. Hurting her…
He burst into the room.
“Haruhi!” he yelled, the door slamming against the wall at his forceful entry.
He looked wildly around the room, his black hair tousled from the wind and rain. He closed his umbrella, ready to use it as a weapon if he found she wasn’t alone.
Then he heard it. Barely above the rhythm of the rain on the window. A soft whimper and cry.
He went into the main room and stopped outside the small, louvered door that housed the closet. He dropped his head down, steeling himself before opening the door. He wasn’t fond of the idea of seeing his Haruhi trembling in broken fear…
His Haruhi?
Kyoya slid the door open and there she sat. A blanket wrapped around her shoulders, hands pressed over her ears as a new crash of lightning and thunder shook the sky. Her face was pinched as she had her eyes screwed shut.
Kyoya let out a breath of a sigh. He’d damn himself later for letting his imagination get the better of him. And he’d scold her for leaving the door unlocked…
The light spilling on her finally caused her to look up. Her teary eyes wavered on his face. She noticed, he looked…alarmed.
“Oh! Kyoya-senpai! What are you doing…?”
Kyoya slid down inside the door frame of the closet, knees bent up, sitting next to her.
“Your dad called. He wanted me to check up on you since he is working late.” His dark eyes slid to their corners, watching her face. She smiled.
“Dad…” she said, warmly.
Another crash.
Haruhi jolted, the side of her body shifting and unintentionally settling it’s daintiness upon Kyoya’s side. His breath caught in his throat. His belly writhed with a chaotic heat. She was too close. Too near. His heart began to thud against his ribcage. Did he dare? Did he dare to touch her more?
Maybe, just a little more…a true test to his proud self control.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“I’m here. It’s ok.” He told her, fighting and succeeding at keeping the pleased sensation out of his voice.
He felt her settle into the crook of his shoulder, her head nestled warmly to him. He set his chin atop her head and breathed deeply.
Her scent was clean, fresh.
She shivered in his arms, as the lightning flashed and the rain pounded, echoing his thrashing heartbeat, Kyoya held her and again wondered, when?
When had it gone from friendship, to longing, to…desire. Desire to possess her. Desire to make her his. Desire to have her look at him as more than just a nice person, a good friend. Desire to make her look up at him with heated eyes, lips that truly longed for his kiss.
When had she breached his defenses? When had his control begun to weaken where she was concerned? When had she taken his heart from him? When had he fallen in love?
Disclaimer: I don’t own Ouran High School Host Club. That would be the creative Bisco Hatori. *bows to her great imagination*
Self Control…
By taterbean96
Kyoya Ootori was a controlled man. No, not a hard-hearted man. His friends could attest that Kyoya would do next to anything for the people closest to him. He had shown selflessness before in different situations to friends and family, a sense of loyalty to those he cared about. But he was master of self control none the less.
And he prided himself on this disciplined trait.
None of his Host Club comrades could lay claim to such a noble mannerism, with the possible exception of Mori. Least controlled, least disciplined of all, his best friend and club knucklehead, Tamaki Suoh.
Kyoya’s controlled, clear and calculating mind has been one of the prominent reasons that the Host Club was a success. Kyoya’s ultimate competency and Tamaki’s narcissism and earnest desire to see all women happy had led to Ouran’s most successful social club in the school’s history.
Kyoya was equally proud of the fact that as the Club continually was a smash hit with the ladies of Ouran, he was able to pull his own ongoing gain from the group as well. He was not ignorant to his importance of the profitability of the Club. Hell, he thought, I am the profitability…
Yet as he rode silently in the back of his sleek, black limo, gazing out the raindrop speckled window, his fingers drummed uneasily, silently on his knee. A sure tell sign of an underlying disturbance to the confident Shadow King.
The rain. His worried mind turned to her.
Haruhi.
The glitch he had not foreseen in the program.
When?
When did his first idea of using her merely as a means to repay her debt, use her as pure gain for the Club and his fellow hosts, bloom into a friendship?
His fingers still drummed restlessly on his bent knee. A muffled rumble of thunder and his concerned, slate eyes lifted skyward, his glasses reflecting the drops off the window…
It had been at the Physical exam last year. The worry he had felt when he and the other club members discovered she was in harm’s way of an intruder…He remembered the uncomfortable alarm, the quickened pace of his heartbeat on that day. They had to; he had to…to get to her before...before…
So unlike Kyoya to feel such towards someone he barely met…a feeling of a vibration, a stiff guitar string plucked, stirring up an unknown sound inside his cool, collected soul. He didn’t like the unfamiliar ripple effect it caused.
Because of that incident, he had been forced to acknowledge that he was fond of Haruhi. She was unique, a fascinating person and a complete contrast to the other girls that invaded Kyoya’s life.
A flash streaking the sky forced Kyoya to slide forward in his seat. His eyes narrowing at the driver, he spoke a soft, but demanding order.
“Please, hurry.”
Slipping back into his previous position, feeling the car move faster now, Kyoya let his thoughts consume him again. Acknowledging friendship and kind feelings toward Haruhi had been weighed carefully by the Club’s Shadow King. He could not afford to soften towards her as she was still indebted to the Club. He would not allow himself, however, to get any closer in case a question of leniency came up in regards to her debt.
Kyoya knew Haruhi’s great sense of pride. She would never opt out of repaying her debt. It was her responsibility and she took ownership of it. She was far too noble and honorable to even think of asking for leniency towards her debt…but Kyoya was cautious.
Feelings could get messy; he witnessed it every day with Tamaki. The Club prince wore his feelings out for everyone to see, making a fool of himself time and again. So Kyoya continued on with his passive demeanor towards the cross dressing club member. Only showing interest in what could be gained from her.
Kyoya’s handsome face, smirked, showing self irritation.
So when had it move beyond this logical agreement he had made with himself? The one that said he’d stay away from her so not to become a babbling idiot like Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru? They fell all over her constantly. Something she herself couldn’t stand, but as the Host Club’s dog, tolerated it to the best of her ability. That sort of idiotic behavior wasn’t in the cool Shadow King anyway.
Ah, yes.
The beach house.
That was when.
Her silly idea that she could take on two grown men; protect the Club clients from their attack. Thank God for Tamaki’s quick thinking, saving her from the fall into the ocean. Kyoya smiled slightly at the memory of the twins pulverizing the culprits. He had stood by, not stopping the assault, not wanting to either…
She had stumbled into his room after dinner, not feeling well. He remembered clearly as she came out of the bathroom, apologizing to him for her thoughtlessness towards her friends in her actions.
He was angry, though not an ounce showed on his stoic face. He sipped his water bottle and told her he hadn’t been especially worried. Inside, his feelings were quite different.
How could she be so insensitive towards them? Her indifference to sexes, her desire to see a person for who they truly are on the inside, blinded her to the fact that not all people had good intentions…blinded her to her friends who would help her, defend and stand beside her…
The limo pulled up to a stop outside of the apartment complex that housed the Fujioka family unit. Kyoya snatched his umbrella as the rain was now coming down in a sheet. The lightning was flashing more frequently now…
He had grabbed her, tossed her nearly weightless slip of a frame onto the bed, was hovering above her. His legs pinning her firmly in place, his hands pressing into the bed, holding him above her upper body. Staring down at her big, startled brown eyes, he felt it.
A heated longing had erupted in his lower belly as he looked down on her. She was beautiful.
Then she spoke.
“You won’t do it, Kyoya-senpai. I know, because you have nothing to gain from sleeping with me.” Her voice was soft, clear.
And she had been right. He didn’t have anything to gain from a rash, heated moment. But he had seen. He had seen her face, the beauty, the innocence, the intelligence…all that was Haruhi Fujioka. That was when his controlled feelings towards her seemed to begin unwinding.
She told him that he was showing her what Tamaki-senpai had been trying to say to her earlier. That, he, Kyoya-senpai is unexpectedly a very nice person.
Now sitting on the edge of the bed, he had looked at her skeptically. He decided in that moment to allow her to keep thinking those had been his intentions. To some degree those were his intentions. He had been angry with her for her impulsiveness.
The unexpected was seeing her defenseless underneath him. Her lips begging to be kissed and his heated desire to do so…
Kyoya wrapped quickly on the apartment door. Another crash, loud and near, caused him to startle slightly. Would she open the door? Ranka said she was alone due to his working late when he’d phoned Kyoya.
“Haruhi? It’s Kyoya. Open up.” He said, leaning in closer towards the door.
Nothing. Damn.
He gripped the door knob and it turned in his hand. His eyebrow hiked, painting an irritated look on his handsome face. She didn’t even lock the door? His heart quickened, eyes opening wider in worry…what if…someone was in there. Hurting her…
He burst into the room.
“Haruhi!” he yelled, the door slamming against the wall at his forceful entry.
He looked wildly around the room, his black hair tousled from the wind and rain. He closed his umbrella, ready to use it as a weapon if he found she wasn’t alone.
Then he heard it. Barely above the rhythm of the rain on the window. A soft whimper and cry.
He went into the main room and stopped outside the small, louvered door that housed the closet. He dropped his head down, steeling himself before opening the door. He wasn’t fond of the idea of seeing his Haruhi trembling in broken fear…
His Haruhi?
Kyoya slid the door open and there she sat. A blanket wrapped around her shoulders, hands pressed over her ears as a new crash of lightning and thunder shook the sky. Her face was pinched as she had her eyes screwed shut.
Kyoya let out a breath of a sigh. He’d damn himself later for letting his imagination get the better of him. And he’d scold her for leaving the door unlocked…
The light spilling on her finally caused her to look up. Her teary eyes wavered on his face. She noticed, he looked…alarmed.
“Oh! Kyoya-senpai! What are you doing…?”
Kyoya slid down inside the door frame of the closet, knees bent up, sitting next to her.
“Your dad called. He wanted me to check up on you since he is working late.” His dark eyes slid to their corners, watching her face. She smiled.
“Dad…” she said, warmly.
Another crash.
Haruhi jolted, the side of her body shifting and unintentionally settling it’s daintiness upon Kyoya’s side. His breath caught in his throat. His belly writhed with a chaotic heat. She was too close. Too near. His heart began to thud against his ribcage. Did he dare? Did he dare to touch her more?
Maybe, just a little more…a true test to his proud self control.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“I’m here. It’s ok.” He told her, fighting and succeeding at keeping the pleased sensation out of his voice.
He felt her settle into the crook of his shoulder, her head nestled warmly to him. He set his chin atop her head and breathed deeply.
Her scent was clean, fresh.
She shivered in his arms, as the lightning flashed and the rain pounded, echoing his thrashing heartbeat, Kyoya held her and again wondered, when?
When had it gone from friendship, to longing, to…desire. Desire to possess her. Desire to make her his. Desire to have her look at him as more than just a nice person, a good friend. Desire to make her look up at him with heated eyes, lips that truly longed for his kiss.
When had she breached his defenses? When had his control begun to weaken where she was concerned? When had she taken his heart from him? When had he fallen in love?
Disclaimer: I don’t own Ouran High School Host Club. That would be the creative Bisco Hatori. *bows to her great imagination*