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Turning Tables	By : Redbookbluebook Category: +M to R > Ouran High Host Club Views: 5062 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; if I did, there would be a lot more than the UST there was. I also don't make any money off of this fic.

Chapter List
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Weeks passed as Kyouya and Haruhi settled into their routine. Kyouya no longer used massage oil on Haruhi, which bemused her slightly but she couldn’t complain; his hands were heavenly even without the added lubrication.
Today should have been no exception. Haruhi lay on the bed practically naked but for a pair of white boyshort underwear.
“Where is he?” She wondered aloud. Kyouya senpai was never late, and a good ten minutes had passed since she had settled herself down on the twin bed.
Growing bored, Haruhi decided to explore his office. It was his fault for being late if she found anything compromising. On the surface, the office was bare of anything one might consider as personal effects. No pictures or inspirational sayings for Kyouya, just a clean, generic office space.
Haruhi snuck around his desk and rummaged through the drawers. Office supplies, charts, financial papers. Boring. Boring. Boring. Somehow she expected more from the so-called, ‘Shadow King.’
Moving back towards the bed, she failed to notice that one of the drawers was still open, and consequently her shin made contact. Hard contact. Something fell out, and Haruhi’s inner voice started freaking out.
‘Oh shit oh shit oh shit! You broke Kyouya senpai’s desk while you were snooping around. He’s never going to forgive you for this. Actually, he’ll probably add it onto your debt and then chastise you for spying on him… Wait a second-’
Upon closer inspection Haruhi realized that she had not in fact broken the drawer, but bumping into it had released the latch to a false bottom.
“No way,” she breathed in astonishment, because the item that had fallen out was Kyouya’s black notebook.
“I shouldn’t…” Haruhi may be a very moral person, but opportunities like this did not just fall into one’s lap. This was her chance to finally get one up on the King of Blackmail.
She opened the book up to a random entry, and quickly realized just what she had in her hands.
March 3

That idiot Tamaki is professing his love for Haruhi again; too bad he thinks his love for her is ‘fatherly’. Although, when that pin drops I look forward to the fallout…

            She was holding Kyouya’s diary. Haruhi gaped in awe, hardly able to comprehend what she was reading. To be honest, she did not want to think about what Kyouya was insinuating with his snark. She skimmed forward a few entries and came across her name again but before she could begin to read it she heard footsteps coming towards the room.
            ‘Oh God, there is no way I can be caught reading this!’ Haruhi quickly replaced the diary, and reattached the false bottom. The footsteps were nearly upon her now. There was no way she could make it back to the bed on time.

~*~

            Kyouya threw the door open quickly. He was twenty minutes late thanks to those damned twins, and-his thoughts stopped mid-rant as he took in Haruhi. She was standing by his desk, half naked. It seemed as though she was running late as well because she appeared to have just finished folding her uniform. Her face flushed when she looked at him, and although her breasts were small the rosy nipples were hardening as he watched them. Ahem, her.
“Senpai!” She shrieked, and he swung himself back out the door as quickly as he had entered. Somewhere in the rush to get here he had forgotten to call out asking if she was decent, a mistake he would never make again. Although, it was a pretty satisfying mistake to make…

                                                            ~*~
Haruhi exhaled in relief as soon as Kyouya exited the room. She had made a sacrifice, but on the whole she was happy with her choice. Especially since Kyouya probably felt contrite, when really she was the one who ought to feel guilty. However, all Haruhi felt was giddy that she had gotten away with reading Kyouya’s secret diary. She was also sort of warm in a tingly way as though she had liked Kyouya looking at her. His gaze was almost predatory before he had departed; she had only seen him look like that once before, but she had experienced the same jolt in her stomach then too. Strange.
            When Haruhi was ready, Kyouya entered once more. He apologized stiffly for his mistake, and she was quick to forgive him. Once he began to touch her with his strong fingers, she melted.
            All of the nagging in her brain slowly faded away until only one thought remained.
            ‘I need to read the rest of that diary.’
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Turning Tables