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Product of Excellent Breeding	By : RowenRaven Category: +M to R > Ouran High Host Club Views: 3466 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High Host Club, not it's characters, I make no money of this nor any story

Chapter List
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AN: This is a RankaKyoya story, though it will deal with their relations to other characters as well as their own. Slightly AU since it takes place after the ending of the anime so there may be spoilers, I only know very little of the manga verse, so any mistakes are done both unconsciously andor on purpose to suit my story. English is not my first language.

Warning: mature sexual themes, incest, age difference, cross-dressing, physical assaults, some violence and language, and of course Yaoi.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High Host Club in any way, nor do I make any profit from this story.

Title: Product of excellent breeding

Chapter 1

                It is an unusual occurrence to have all the Ootori family together during dinner. The Father - usually busy with the management of the many medical companies under his power- and the two older sons- assisting and studding to become their father’s successors- shine for their absence at the dinner table more often than not.

          Tonight, however, is one of those rare occasions, Yoshio sitting at the head of the table; his eldest son and heir sits at his right, followed immediately by the second son. To the patriarch’s left sits his only daughter Fujumi, and to her right is the place of the third son or rather the forth offspring of the family, Kyoya Ootori.

          Who’d prefer to be having dinner alone in his room as usual; in his opinion it’s less nerve wrecking. Whenever he is in the presence of his father everything becomes a matter of high polished manners and property. And so dinner is eaten in polite but strained silence or in equally polite but hypocritical conversations.

          Kyoya can’t wait to be out of there. He has a lot to do before bed and dinner with his father and brothers always extends unnecessarily, as they insist on bringing work home, even to the dining table.

          By the end of the entrée Kyoya can’t take the stifling atmosphere anymore. A few months ago the third son would’ve taken this opportunity to learn all he could about the affairs of the company; but since the Ouran Fair this kind of things fail to interest him in the way they did before. He has decided that that night he had proven himself to his father and brothers; when he backed up the company Gran Tonnerre had intended to buy, preventing the sale and returning all management to his father. That single act proves his competence and he thinks that at the present that is more than enough. Not that it has stopped his father from breathing down his neck. But Kyoya can’t care less, he has stepped outside of his frame and he is not stepping into it ever again. For the time being he will concentrate on his studies and the management of the Host Club. That is enough of a challenge as it is, what with Tamaki’s outrageous expenditures and Honey-sempai’s cakes.

Kyoya debates if he should endure through the main course, but decides against it. The teen puts down his napkin and pushes back his chair drawing the attention of the other four at the table. A first tonight, and every other, as he is usually ignored while his father and brothers converse.

          “May I be excused?” it isn’t a question; he phrases it as one just to be polite.

          “But Kyoya you haven’t had dinner yet,” Fujumi intones concern; his father simply looks at him disapprovingly, a look Kyoya is far too used to by now too give it any mind.

          “I am not hungry, the entrée was enough for me and I have some school matters that need to be done before I retire for the night,” he explains for her sake only, already on his feet.

          “I’ll pass by your room later to bring you tea,” she offered kindly.

          He thanks her softly, gives his father and brothers a court bow ‘good night’ and leaves as quickly as he can without seeming to be in too much of a hurry.

          In his room Kyoya sighs wearily, well that is done and over with. Arming himself with his laptop and black notebook the teen sits on the floor at the low table. As he sets up his mobile beeps announcing a new text in his inbox. Kyoya smiles as he reads; it’s a reply from Ranka agreeing to meet up Saturday noon to discuss the printing of the Club’s new Photo book collection. The brunette usually gives his reports of Haruhi to her father by e-mail or phone, but lately Kyoya fees he wants to communicate with the older man in a less impersonal and distant way. He is intrigued by the Okama in a very familiar way that he is not willing to acknowledge, at least not yet. The idea of their appointment makes him nervous in a pleasant way. It’s not the first time he will meet the man in person, the club has imposed on the Fujioka household on several occasions; But this time around there won’t be the club, he won’t take the other along. It will be just Kyoya visiting, not to see Haruhi but her dad. True is just to discuss Host Club business but it’s an excuse as good as any, so he tackles the stack of folders containing the photos.

          This time around The Shadow King had managed to get a series of short photo shoots. A group of students are starting a photography club and Kyoya managed to strike a deal with them. The amateur photographers would take the pictures of the modeling hosts, keep the originals and the rights to use the pictures as they saw fit in their portfolios and projects. As well as having the rights to call on the host when they can’t find other willing models. In exchange Kyoya gets to publish and sell the photo books without giving any monetary compensation as long as he gives credit and promotes the photography club as the ones taking the pictures. He has to admit it’s a pretty profitable deal and the students do have talent capturing images through the lens. The photos are both high quality and the images creative and as close to candid as they can get in a shooting of amateur models and photographers.

          He starts with Tamaki’s, rolling his eyes and sighing whenever he comes across a particularly dramatic picture, which is more often than not. By the time dinner is finished and Fujumi comes in with tea Kyoya has already selected the pictures of all the members of the club, but Haruhi’s.

          In truth Kyoya lets his cock decide which photo to put in their collections; those pictures that stir his loins are the ones he chooses.

          With Tamaki is quite easy, the crush he has had on the blond for the last three years makes it quite easy for him to respond to the classy but provocative elegance of their self-proclaimed Host King.

          With the twins it is the mischievousness, the forbidden fruit conundrum they arouse in others; be it to simply watch them together or better yet, in Kyoya’s opinion, to be trapped between them, to enjoy the sinful debauchery of brotherly love.

          What he looks for in Mori-sempai is right out manly sexiness, something that seems to pour out of the older boy in buckets. It is quite often that Kyoya had to stop in the middle of sifting through the photos to take care of the raging hard-on provoked by Mori’s pictures. Of all the Host Club members Mori is the only one apart from Tamaki that he’d like to sleep with, not romantically but for pure lust’s sake.

          Honey-sempai is a little more difficult, Kyoya isn’t into the whole jail-bait, pedophile’s wet dream thing. So what he looks for in Honey is the combination of cuteness with coy temptation; if that even makes sense. The photos the hypotensive lord chooses for his counterpart are the ones that either makes the girls want to cuddle the older boy to death, or the ones that he supposes would make an old pervert want to fuck the small kid senseless.

          Now, selecting Haruhi’s is a little more difficult for a number of reasons. First of all the ‘cross dresser’ didn’t inspire much desire in Kyoya, maybe because the knowledge that ‘he’ is actually a she. But even as a boy Haruhi isn’t Kyoya’s type. Then there is the fact that he needs to choose her pictures very carefully, for unlike with the rest of the members; this particular selection has to be approved not only by an overzealous and dramatic Tamaki, but by an overprotective and equally dramatic father. That is right, after the last Lobelia fiasco, Kyoya has made it a point to inform one Mr. Rioyi Fujioka, aka Ranka, of every image of Haruhi that came out to the public view, the man had been pretty pissed about the whole incident. So what Kyoya chooses needs to stay clear of anything even the slightest provocative or insinuating and instead appeals to Haruhi’s simplicity, natural charm, kind openness and radiant warmth.

          He is in the middle of this particular hard task when Fuyumi comes in unannounced; a habit Kyoya doesn’t bother to correct her for anymore. As always she set about serving tea -and it seems tonight she has brought dissert as well- quietly while he works, an easy and comforting routine. Though he’d never admit it, Kyoya has come to enjoy these times spent with his sister like this evening. She keeps him company in a sibling sort of way; probably their easy companionship is the only relation he can consider to be close to what a normal functional family should be.

          His sister places a cup and a tart slice next to him. He lifts the cup to his lips absentmindedly, sipping carefully at the hot liquid and he can’t help but smile. She always got it just right, Fuyumi is the only one who knows how to prepare his tea just the way he likes it.

          “Thanks Fuyumi,” he says softly.

          She smiles at him and sits on the sofa behind him, as he always prefers to sit on the floor when he works at the low coffee table.

          “What are you working on?” she asks conversationally. She always shows interest on his projects, genuinely intrigued by what he does in his club or free time.

          “I’m selecting the photos for the new Host Club album collection,” he explains indicating the scattered folders and pictures all over the table, the one containing Haruhi’s sprawled before him.

          “Oh, well I’ll leave you to your work,” she says and makes to stand.

          “Actually Fuyumi,” he starts stopping her mid motion.

Fuyumi tries to get involve in his life, a fact he isn’t always comfortable with, but maybe this time he can let her. He could use some help selecting his own pictures. It was part of the deal, or more a demand made by Renge, seconded by the king, the twins and the boy lolita – damn traitors all of them.

Honestly what could they be thinking? If there is something harder than selecting Honey-sempai and Haruhi’s pictures, it’s choosing his own. In his opinion he is the most average looking of all the hosts –well maybe not more than Haruhi. Kyoya is by no means a chronic narcissist like Tamaki; and since he doesn’t trust Renge’s judgment of his character; it seems that allowing his older sister to select the photos for him is the best option, she always sees him in a different light. Though Kyoya has the sneaky suspicion –certainty actually- that no matter if he hand picks the images or chooses them randomly blindfolded, they’d sale just as good.

“I was thinking if you are not occupied at the moment, maybe you could give me a hand with these,” he says offhandedly.

But she can hear the hesitation in his voice; this is a first, Kyoya never asks for help. Containing a smile and her excitement at the prospect of helping him she answers. “Of course Kyoya, whatever you need.”

“Alright then.” He scoots to the side signaling for her to join him on the floor. She sits on the rug gladly, this too is a first; Kyoya always keeps formalities even with her, but not tonight.

“I need you to look at these and pick the ones you think are best suited for the album,” he explains taking a folder that lay by his hip on the floor; he pushes the folder towards her.

Opening the folder Fuyumi can’t help but to be surprised. They are pictures of Kyoya himself. She had expected to be asked to choose the pictures for one of the other boys of the club not Kyoya’s; he is a very private and self-conscious teen. The older sister smiles as a wave of affection fills her, flattered that her little brother trusts her that much and she had never noticed.

“Fuyumi is something wrong?” he asks a brow arched in concern as she just sits there and stares at the pictures. “I know they don’t look that good, so just pick whatever you think is best,” he adds with a self-depreciating shrug.

Now she stares at him, “What? Don’t be silly these are great,” she assures him readily finally pulling out of her stuntmen to sift through the photos. “My, my! You are a handsome boy Kyoya,” she comments a hint of teasing but mostly in an honest prize.

The third son fights the blush that tries to creep up his neck and rolls his eyes dismissively.

“Now don’t be like that, I’m not just saying that,” she admonishes him lightly.

“Alright then, please pray tell what in your opinion makes me of all people so handsome?”

Her pleased excitement makes Kyoya think maybe he shouldn’t have asked after all. She looks at the pictures for a moment before picking one and scooting closer to him.

“First of all, have you looked at yourself? You have a slight built, not too broad shoulders and narrow hips. Refined features and sharp eyes with a penetrating gaze that is breathe taking. Smooth skin and stylish hair. You are any girl’s dreamed boy.” The more she talks the more he blushes.

“But is not just that,” she continues “see this picture here, your pose? You look elegant, confident, your presence demands attention.” The photograph in question is one of Kyoya from the waist up; arms crossed looking down at the camera. The teen looks at the image with raised brows, did she really see all that in one picture?

“It also makes you look kind of cold and distant though, intelligent and calculating,” she adds with a slight frown.

That is the point, he admits silently. After all, I am the product of excellent breeding, he thinks to himself a little listlessly.

“Now this one, the way you are glancing back over your shoulder with that enigmatic smirk; it makes the viewer feel like you know something about them that they themselves don’t know.”

Which I probably do, he agrees with a bit of pride.

“It’s a mischievous, playful side of you,” she explains.

Kyoya’s brows shoot up to his hair line. He has many sides, he knows and admits that much; but he never considered he had a playful side, he can’t allow himself to.

“Alright, Alright, I get it,” he concedes in hopes to stop her ranting about his ‘qualities’. It unnerves him that she can read him so easily. The third son wanders if everyone who sees those photos is able to perceive the same thing his sister does and for a moment he seriously considers burning them all.

Fuyumi continued sifting through the photos occasionally pointing out to him what she saw in it, while he concentrates in Haruhi’s pictures.

“Kyoya?”

“hmm?” he responds absentmindedly.

“Can I have this one?” she asks hesitantly.

Kyoya looks up surprised, what photo could she possibly want to keep for herself? He glances down at the picture she is holding and feels color rising to his cheeks. He remembers that picture. It was mostly a face shot. It depicts Kyoya with slightly disheveled hair, no glasses and laughing out loud; and oddly enough ussa-chan appears tugged under his chin, one fluffy pink ear caressing his cheek. What the photo fails to show is the circumstances in which the image was captured.

The photographer, an enthusiastic girl and fan of the Host Club complained that she couldn’t get a picture in which Kyoya looked genuinely happy. The statement had cause some bantering and soon enough the Hitachins and Honey-sempai pounced on him, led by an overly enthusiastic Tamaki. The four of them cornered The Shadow King and, risking life and limb, proceed to tickle the life out of him. Tamaki knows for a fact Kyoya is very ticklish and try as he may to maintain his dignity, soon the tickling troop had reduced the bespectacled teen to a wriggling mass of laughter. It is the most candid photo of him ever taken.

“Yes you can have it,” he concedes finally how could he deny it to her, when she looks at it with so much affection and pride. Even if he can’t understand why.

In a short while the pictures where selected and Fuyumi even re-checked what he had chosen for the other boys, pointing some images she thought featured each one more accurately.

“Thanks for the help Fuyumi,” he says softly as he organizes the slight mess on the low table.

“It was my pleasure Kyoya. I had a great time, it was really fun. If you need me again don’t hesitate to ask,” she assures pleasantly as she picks up the tea tray.

“I’ll keep it in mind, goodnight sis.”

It takes her by surprise; it’s been years since he has called her that. She smiles, he doesn’t seem to have noticed his slip in formality. “Goodnight Kyo-chan,” she says re-taking the nickname she hasn’t called him by since he started middle school at his adamant request that she stopped. “And thank you for the photo,” she adds before he can protest to the childish nickname and surprises him further by placing an affectionate kiss on his forehead.

The gesture leaves him shocked for a long time even after she left.
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Product of Excellent Breeding