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After Hours	By : Atomicnebula13 Category: +M to R > Ouran High Host Club Views: 9174 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER! I do not own ANY aspect of Ouran High School Host Club nor do I make any profit from this fic. It's purely for fun, nothing more. Bisco Hatori is the creator of the series, all rights belong to her.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1
Haruhi sat on the large red couch in the host club room, her legs tucked underneath her, long after everyone else had taken their leave. She had asked Kyoya earlier in the day if she could borrow the room to study since her father would be having a special “friend” over this evening. She shuddered, knowingly. She knew, after his years of declaring that the only woman he would ever love had been his mother, that his newest companion was not female. It’s not that she had a problem with that… far from it. It was just… strange that after all these years he had found someone he wanted to spend time with, it had been just the two of them for so long. But at the same time it brought her a special sort of happiness, she was pleased that her father had found someone that he cared about. She wanted him to be happy, he deserved to be happy Haruhi also knew she secretly wanted him to find someone special, someone who would occupy his time when she was gone. Though she had yet to mention it to him, she planned to attend University in America, far from home, and she wasn’t sure how he would react to such news and she hoped that the prospect of a relationship at home would soften the blow for him, if only slightly.

However, she assumed they wanted some privacy so she had told him there was some host club activity that she just absolutely had to participate in, lest she lose her scholarship. She didn’t want him to have any reason to argue with her though she detected a bit of skepticism in his eyes, she assumed he thought she was going to meet up with Tamaki.
She rolled her eyes at the thought.
She had a paper due this coming Tuesday and she wanted to complete it before the weekend. Weekends were, it seemed, no longer her time as the boys in the host club would always find some reason to show up at her door and whisk her away on some ridiculous new adventure. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been able to sleep in on a Sunday. To her surprise, Kyoya had agreed to allow her use of the room and not added anything like a ridiculous rental fee to her already exorbitant amount of debt, stating that he did not care what she used the room for so long as it did not interfere with any of the host clubs activities. Perhaps that came from the fact that he took pity on her because that ridiculous buffoon Tamaki monopolized all her free time.
In order to stay in Ouran and effectively the host club she had to stay at the top of her class and Kyoya needed her to stay in the club to repay her debt, not to mention the fact that as a host, she drew a fairly decent crowd.
She smirked, allowing herself to indulge in the thought that even as a female she had enough charm to woo the women that frequented their club. It filled her with a sense of pride and she wondered if her male counterparts felt the same. It was a pleasant feeling, she could see why the boys enjoyed this club. Being fussed over and pampered, to be desired, was agreeable.
Even still, she disliked that she was so obligated to indulge in the extra curricular activities, it really cut into her study time and did nothing to diminish her debt. She winced, she couldn’t help but notice that her irritation with those activities sounded very much like Kyoya’s feelings about not engaging in activities that did not gain him merits. Though she admired the drive of the older boy she also found his personal outlook on life rather cold.
So here she was, taking full advantage of this uninterrupted quiet, papers stacked haphazardly on top of each other on the table in front of her, her pen hanging lazily from her mouth as she read through one of the books she was using as a reference.
She had long since discarded her blue blazer and her tie. It was late spring, summer seemed to be knocking on their doors and the heat from the days were now spilling into the evenings making the room stuffy, the air hanging still and oppressive. Though Ouran was a ridiculously ritzy school she assumed they didn’t have much use for the air conditioning after school hours since there usually weren’t any students to cater to, no one to regulate the temperature for. The room was slightly muggy but not unbearable. The top three buttons were undone on her white undershirt revealing the bit of white lace from the top of her camisole tank top, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows and her shoes and socks had been removed, revealing dainty toes and tiny feet.
Finding a particularly important piece of information in her text she removed her pen from her mouth and began to write furiously across the page, making notations for her sources as she went. Haruhi, when it came to schoolwork, was nothing short of diligent. She would carefully scrutinize her work until she was absolutely satisfied that there was nothing else she could do to improve it and she was almost there now. Other than cooking, schoolwork was the only other facet of her life in which she took extreme pride, everything else always felt rather insignificant.
Just a few more things to tweak and she would be able to pack her things and leave, not that she was in a real hurry. The school was a completely different place when no one was there, the usual chaos removed it seemed eerily calm and she welcomed the change. She, personally, enjoyed the silence. It was so hard to come by these days, a quiet moment.
As much as she loved all of the members of the club she was fast becoming exasperated with some of their antics, in particular the twins and Tamaki. She had to admit that sometimes it was fun or exciting to take part in the twins “games” or in the exploits of the “king” but too often it turned into some contest to try to garner her attentions or affections. That was tiresome and exceedingly irritating. Even Honey-senpai’s cutesy, innocent act tended to grate her nerves sometimes and for that she felt bad. He wasn’t really doing anything wrong she just thought it was immature for someone his age to act in the manner that he did sometimes. Then there was Kyoya, the devil shadow king of the club, she didn’t dislike him. In fact, she found his company soothed her because he seemed to have an explanation for all of the ridiculousness that composed the club. However, his calculating nature made it impossible for her to relax completely in his presence, he made sure no one was able to truly get close to him.
Indeed, it seemed the only member of their little family that didn’t grind her nerves on a daily basis was Mori-senpai but that was probably because he didn’t speak. She didn’t, however, feel unnerved by his unwillingness… or was it inability to speak. His silence was often a welcome change to the unruliness that the others brought to her life. His presence brought a simple peace and calm. He did not vie for her attention the way Tamaki and the twins did, rather he waited for her to come to him, accepting the company she would give, never asking for more. It probably didn’t hurt either that he was the one person she had special feelings for, more than just the fondness she shared for the others.
Once, not too long ago, she had briefly loved Tamaki and though they had tried to work things out between them she wasn’t really sure if he had ever resolved his feelings for her. He had been unable to decide between the romantic feelings he held for her and the paternal feelings he had deluded himself into believing. Either way it had not worked out, though they were able to remain close friends, there was not an ounce of awkwardness between them, which she attributed to his sunny personality. Tamaki still meant very much to her, he had helped to expand her once small world and for that she would always be grateful. She just didn’t have romantic feelings for him any longer.
Mori-senpai, however, was altogether different. His quiet disposition was something to be admired, not feared. Some people felt uncomfortable around him due to his quiet nature while others adored him for it. Thinking him a silent protector of the all too loveable, and very vocal, Honey-senpai. Haruhi thought that her senpai just didn’t deem words necessary and when he did take it upon himself she found his words were usually important, offering a substantial sort of help to the person he spoke to. His words were heavily weighted with wisdom that she felt was far beyond his eighteen years. Mori-senpai, she suspected, viewed his voice as an instrument of inference. He spoke when he was moved to do so, relying more on his actions to convey messages to others, though they were rarely able to decipher them.
Deciding to give herself a much needed break she stood, stretching her limbs, reveling in the delightful pull of her muscles, she reached her hands toward the ceiling. She moved across the room and retrieved a bottle of mineral water from the mini fridge they kept in the club room, she took a large sip and she decided to let her mind wander and as they always did her thoughts returned to Mori-senpai.
She felt slightly flushed as she remembered the first time he had called her by name, that day at Kyoya-senpai’s family resort. It was, to this day, one of her favorite memories with him. It had pleased her more than she had realized to hear his deep, baritone voice speaking her name. She could still recall the deep chord within herself his voice seemed to have struck that day, the slight shiver that shook her body and then, without warning he had picked her up and hauled her along through the jungle with one arm as if she weighed nothing at all. Cradling her gently, protecting her from all of the exotic animals that Kyoya-senpai’s family had added for “authenticity”.
The contact had made her hyper aware of the fact that his chest was bare. His physique, compared to the others, was highly impressive. His height alone made him a sight to behold. His tanned skin covered the powerful muscles underneath that had been conditioned through years of kendo competitions and judo matches. He was not bulky though, his tall build making the muscles long and lean, giving him the perfect appearance of grace and strength. Haruhi noted the cut, sharp angle of his jaw line and for a fleeting moment she had felt the strange urge to press her lips to the underside of his jaw, to feel that skin pressed against hers. Embarrassed by her train of thought she had downcast her eyes, a light blush tinging her cheeks. Where exactly had that thought come from? She had wondered to herself.
As they continued on their journey she noticed that despite the light hint of sweat, he smelled incredibly good. She wondered what kind of cologne he wore… something needlessly expensive she bet. The sun caused his dark hair to shine, she wondered how it would feel to run her fingers through it. Would it be coarse or soft?
Sometime along their trek her body had curled into his, her right hand braced against his chest to steady herself and though she was worried about the contact it had not seemed to bother him.
Haruhi had been all too disappointed when he had finally had to put her down and at the time those thoughts had confused her. She knew now that she had probably been harboring feelings for him since then but only lately had they made their way to the forefront of her mind.
The few times he tended to look her way now she would find herself unable to keep eye contact with him. Whether he noticed her aversion or not remained to be seen since he never asked her about it. She hoped he hadn’t noticed because deep down she knew he was sort of sensitive. She had picked up on that when Kasanoda-kun had begged him to become his apprentice. During the exercise, Tamaki, Hikaru and Koru had torn apart Mori-senpai’s character and Haruhi had felt bad for him. She had not agreed with their assault on him in the slightest. He wasn’t exactly expressionless, just because he didn’t smile all the time, or scream, or cry the way Tamaki and the twins did, didn’t mean he wasn’t expressive.
His emotions, for anyone who bothered to look, were easily read in the depths of his eyes. His dark grey, almost black eyes shone with everything from sadness (her least favorite), to amusement, to tenderness. She saw that most often when he looked at Honey-senpai. It was obvious that he was devoted to the pint sized candy fanatic and it wasn’t just his familial obligations that kept him by his side. That was why she had yet to confess her feelings to Mori-senpai because either way she knew he would deny her. She had seen him turn down the confession of another classmate first hand, though he had not actually responded to her in any way, his silent rebuff more than clear. Besides, he and Honey-senpai would be graduating in a few months and she was content just to spend the time she had left with him in club activities. She did not need anything from him in return. She didn’t need him to reciprocate the way she felt.
She allowed herself to think about her senpai shirtless one last time before returning to sit on the couch and wrap up her report.
When she first heard it she thought she had been imagining it. She waited silently and again she heard some shuffling coming from the closet that they usually kept all of their props and costumes in. She was slightly on edge but fairly certain that it couldn’t be anything major, after all she had been here for hours and no crazed maniacs or rapists had burst out of there.
“Hello?” she called out.
She got no response.
Maybe senpai’s silly tanuki had made his way back into the club room somehow?
Soundlessly, she made her way over to the door, raising a tentative hand she grabbed the doorknob but before she was able to open the door it swung open with enough force to knock her onto her bottom, her arms shooting out behind her to break her fall.
“Owww…” she said, her rear end had connected hard with the floor.
Confused and a bit frightened she looked up to see what exactly had thrown the door open…
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After Hours