demi_rabbit (demi_rabbit) wrote in twins_tamaki,

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Fiction Dump

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Paring: Onesided Hikaru Hitachiin x Tamaki Suoh
Title: Secrets Come From Deeper Feelings
Rating: T, just for safty
Warning[s]: Yaoi/slash,homosexual themes and blatent unrequited love.
Notes: None. Written on a whim for the3sentence community




“What did you—“ Tamaki starts, looking up from his English homework in a surprisingly calm disposition, only to be interrupted by the faked forceful voice telling him again, “That’s what your name means—ring.”


There was no flowing cape, no super human strength, no spandex, no duty to save the town, no obnoxious code name—but that really was the only word to describe him.


The one about to rip up the letter is Hikaru!”


Tamaki’s inability to properly form thoughts or see every angle of the opportunity didn’t seem to hinder his ability to come up with the most creative ideas.


The rhythmic tap-tap of sneakers on the tile and the panting, huffed, “Hikaru, you forgot your notebook in the club room,” takes up his thoughts for the rest of the day.


‘Maybe I should pretend to be scared of thunder like’


“No, Kaoru, Tamaki has to be the angle this time—with those fuzzy contraptions.”


The temperature has nothing to do with the uncontrollable shiver that runs up and down his spine as two bodies careen off the cliff and into the water below.


He hates the stupid blush that creeps up his stupid face every time that stupid blond gets the stupid game right.


The fact that kissing Kaoru lightly upon the mouth in the middle of club and causing the girls (and a certain piece of eye-candy) to choke on their tea makes him happy that he can invoke at least ONE reaction from his “lord”.


It’s a skill to change sheets (so as to hide incriminating evidence) at twelve in the morning—without waking Kaoru, too.


“Could someone help me out of this dress,” the blond Suoh whines and the dressing room door is slammed as the red head flushed the same color as the hearts on the other boy’s boxers.


The only reason he stays in the guest’s room in Karuizawa—claiming he’s fixing the windows/arranging the flowers—is to stare out of the glass at the blond who was fixing the fence.


And since its Tamaki playing the piano that they’re loosing to later, he almost doesn’t hear his little brother’s shout or the crash of the vase he’d spent so long arranging.


‘Any shirt I make now a-days is for tall, blond French-men,’ Hikaru thought mutinously, crumpling yet another design sheet from the pad, ‘and they all look better OFF the model.’


Luckily for him, however, the dustcover of that particular sketch book uses a Cinderella spin-off with a large silver pumpkin carriage on it, so Kaoru never goes near it.


“I’ll die before I ever confess my love for some who I know I can’t have,” Kaoru confesses to him, and all Hikaru can do is nod mutely.


And the next morning the elder twin is rudely awoken from lethargic visions of milky white pectorals and barely clothed backsides by the rough jerking of his sheets from under his body, only to look up and see his younger brother smiling down at him and holding a bundle of messy bed cloths.


“Guess we can’t share everything,” the younger snipes at his big brother, and the flame that is Hikaru’s heart flickers at the though before Kaoru adds, “Which means you’re taking it from the maids when they complain about the laundry load.”


Tamaki’s way with words is not to be outdone, or overused by anyone but himself.


‘Tell him,’ the internal voice (the one that would talk using Kaoru’s voice) shouted as Tamaki lingers—alone—after club, only to be combated by the calmer voice that spoke like Haruhi saying, ‘Tell what, exactly?’


Tamaki forged trailed through mean words, splashed through streams of tears, climbed mountainous barriers, slept in cold uncertainty and battled against elemental emotions, but he was now firmly within the secret world he’s tried so hard to enter.


Hikaru would have gone after Haruhi eventually during the thunder store, but the angry way that Tamaki shouted at him over the phone sparked the action sooner.


I...can’t,’ Hikaru feels, but his voice is in perfect, convincing sync with Kaoru’s when they recite, “Mi’lord is too stupid of an idiot to love.”


It’s tiring to keep up this facade, but the thought of the inevitable rejection is enough to keep the mask of indifference firmly in place.


Shallow people who cared for appearances only could freeze at the sight of Ritsu Kasanoda’s face, but others froze at the sight of the usually frivolous blond being reduced to a robot.


Hikaru’s heart is just as subject to the ups and downs of Tamaki’s mood as the actual blond, and he hates that.


Since none of them really come from happy/together/whole/nice families, Hikaru (and Kaoru, and Kyouya, and Hunny, and Mori and even Haruhi) take it upon themselves to make Tamaki forget about his, a favor he returns.


Weaving through the girls, ladies and women at the Ouran fair takes more skill than let on, but it is such a graceful display that amber eyes cannot avert themselves.


He does not trust the woman whose aura speaks more about her personality than her perfect figure and flawless face.


And he doesn’t like her for sticking her fingers into Tamaki’s chest and toying with his heart (and the Host Club) either.


It almost hurts more that Tamaki’s leaving without saying goodbye, rather than just leaving.


It hurts, wrenches, rattles the gates of a fragile place within him and shakes the earth so violently that even Tamaki and Haruhi are retrieved, Hikaru’s not sure if his world (the one the blond forced his way into) will ever be the same.


Appearances aside, there is an embrace at the beach shore, and the salty water soaks everyone’s clothing just as thoroughly as the two swimmers by the end.


Later, as the festival is drawing to an end, Tamaki is dragging Hikaru towards a more secluded corner of the court yard by his good arm and remarking bluntly after seeing his flushed face and uncomfortable disposition, “Are you feeling sick, Hikaru?”


His face does feel hot, but not for the reason Tamaki is thinking and the older twin forces out a wheezy, fake-sounding giggle.


“Ha-ha, how do you know I’m not Kaoru, mi’lord?”


The blond Suoh’s semi-worried expression breaks into a grin, “You’re not—I can tell you two apart now; I have been for a while now, I think.”


Perhaps he’s not as concerned about this discovery as he should be, but the general fact that they’re conversing in solitude was playing tricks on Hikaru’s brain.


Tamaki took a breath and exhaled sadly, quietly adding, “I’m sorry, Hikaru; are you mad at me?”


It takes a moment for him to realize that he’s referring to the issue with Éclair Tonnere, during which time many, many unspoken feelings weighs in the quiet.


Tellhimtellhimtellhimtellhimtellhimyouidiot, Haruhi and Kaoru are shouting in unison, and Hikaru snaps, “NO,” out loud.


Tamaki is clearly taken aback, but he seems pleased while Hikaru flushes and feels his self disappointment welling up as he searches his King’s face for a hint of the response he’s to get.


“I love...” a bird with barbed wings rockets around the inside of Hikaru’s stomach, “I love your honesty; thank you, Hikaru.”


A Full head of blond hair obscures a mortified, hurt, angry, and dejected look on Hikaru’s face as he’s enveloped in a tight, warm and all too-short hug.


He allows himself to lean into the embrace for a second, only to see the ground rush up sickeningly when the blond moves away, and he hears the concered, “OHMIGAWD—Hikaru, are you sure you’re not sick!??!?”


Messages aren’t properly networking their way through his brain and everything seems garbled like the sounds of zooming cars.


“Yeah, I’m fine—just tired,” he supplied, not knowing if the Suoh would buy it,


And just like that, the battered, busted, broken, hurt, dented world that had been unlocked was encoded with a harder code to break, and the tears were unhinged (after Tamaki had turned his back to apologize to Mori, luckily.)


Hikaru’s lungs don’t want to cooperate as he hides in the deserted hallways of Ouran, but he finds that if forced, every breath seems to be one of acceptance and makes it hurt a little less.

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Paring: Onesided Kaoru Hitachiin x Tamaki Suoh, then double sided
Title: The Mocking Song
Rating: T, just for safty
Warning[s]: Yaoi/slash,homosexual themes and blatent unrequited love.
Notes: None. Done for the '5 Stages of Love/Grief' on SHINE, where we turned the grief into love.

The Mocking Song

Kaoru and Tamaki sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

It had virtually no standing. The one words that sprang to mind every time I looked at him was--No… There was no such words, or at least no proper word that could describe the feelings--No! Nonononono! The non-existent feelings, maybe but defiantly no the…the actual ones…

Oh good lord, I'm screwed aren't I?

Kaoru and Tamaki sitting in a tree. T-O-N-G-U-I-N-G

Maybe smashing a picture frame wasn't the wisest thing to do, but it also wasn't the easiest. The looks that Hikaru and Haruhi gave me were hilarious; I don't think they expected me to act that way, Hikaru's always the irrational and violent one. Kyouya glared at me and I know he'll make me pay for the damage done. Hunny ate cake and Mori spared me a look before moving his cousin away from the 'enraged Hitachiin'. But, you see, I wasn't looking at them.

I don't think that the idiotic, stupid, moronic, overly dramatic, childish, ignorant, crazy, ignorant, childish, overly dramatic, moronic, stupid idio--…Wait….

Anyway, I don't think he even looked at me, he was too busy grappling with my brother for Haruhi's attention. This was originally what lead to the breaking of the picture frame, and the tearing of the oil painting it held. The flowers weren't too happy with me, but I wasn't with myself either.

Why the hell was I acting like this again? Oh right. The four letter word that I was both fighting for and against.

Kaoru and Tamaki sitting in a tree. G-R-O-P-I-N-G

I think I've sold my soul, inadvertently or not. In truth, it started with my dream last night. I met the devil, and he had black hair and glasses. He wrote my name in his notebook and growled: "You are doomed to suffer deep within your heart!" To which I responded: "But my heart doesn't hurt yet." The devil just smiled and then vanished.

Next, came the Hall of Mirrors and the rose thorns. I pricked my finger on the thorn and even though it was a dream, I know it hurt. After than, I smeared the blood across a mirror and suddenly Hikaru was there, smiling at me. "What do you want, brother?" I answered: "To not feel the pain of my heart that the devil told me about."

He just smiled at me and said "What will you do to avoid it?"


And then I woke up. It was three in the morning, an unreasonable hour at best, and I was in no mood to deal with my twin, who was thrashing and attempting to kick me off the bed. Instead, I just turned onto my said and tried to sleep. I would do anything to sleep at that moment and just to forget the dream.

Kaoru and Tamaki sitting in a tree. S-U-C-K-I-N-G

Mood swings. I attribute this all to mood swings. I can't help but mope around the club today, sulking randomly and slumping over table tops. One couldn't call it spectacular hosting, but it did the trick.

"Kaoru," Hikaru whined once the girl's had left. "What's wrong with you?"

I didn't answer him. He tried a couple more times, all derivations of 'what wrong?' and all unanswered. He was starting to get mad and I finally told him that I was sick. In truth, one couldn't call this a chronic illness. It was more of they type that made me want to write angst-filled love poems and put on make-up. It was the kind of illness that had me running to the bathroom every thirty minutes; the kind that had me waking at night in a cold sweat; the kind that most would use drugs, hookers or golf to get rid of the urges. But, for me, it was the kind that left you sad, unloved and utterly miserable. In fact, even thinking about the…the…him made me want to cry now adays. God, I felt pregnant.

However, something good finally came of it.

"Devilish red headed twin?" I slipped in my sudden jerked movement and hit my head on the table. My forehead thumped vaguely as I looked up at the very face that haunted me. "What is wrong? Are you unhappy, my son!!?!?!? Tell me what's ailing you and I shall exert myself to the best of my abilities to make it better!" He sniffed dramatically. "I simply cannot stand it when someone's unhappy." Tears glistened in his eyes and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach as I was…


And even though the only thought in my head was that I could write a wonderful and morbid story about an event like this, looking back at it…it felt good.

Kaoru and Tamaki sitting in a tree. F-U-C-K-I--

"And so I get it. I completely understand why I should not be in love with my upperclassman because, yes, that was my brief story of unrequited love and the steps in which I went through to get rid of it." Kaoru splashed cold water onto his face and reached blindly for one of the bathroom's towels.

He was still in the third music room's private bathroom an hour after having originally excused himself. Why you may ask. Because the first four times he had looked at Suoh Tamaki, conflicting and opposite emotions had plagued him. It must have started a month ago, and it had deeply disturbed him. However, now that those feelings had hopefully dissipated…


The door had opened without so much as a sound and in had stormed the aforementioned Tamaki, shirt soaked and hair a sticky mess. Tamaki paused and cocked his head to the side. "Kaoru?" The red head felt his stomach jump into his mouth and then back down past his knee caps. A large smile curved the blonde's lips upwards (rosy red lips, that caused little dimples whenever he--NO! No, stop it!) and made a noise of realization. "Oh! So this is where you were? Hikaru's getting worried about you; he said you've been acting off."

The Hitachiin tried his best to grin, or laugh it off, but he couldn't. It came out more of a shaken moan in acapella and pained sounding. Tamaki blinked. "Eh…are you okay? Do you need the nurse?"

"I've been shot."

"OHMIGOD! You have!?!!?? Where!!?!? Show me!! SOMONE CALL AND AMBU--"

"Not really, tono," Kaoru deadpanned, his eyes gazing from the floor and hot blood flowing into his cheeks. "I meant…like" --the shorter of the two made a small motion to signify shooting an arrow-- "Like a cupid or something…"

It took a couple seconds for what the younger of the devilish red headed twins had said to register with the blond, and .008 seconds after that for a smile to curve his lips. "Oh, Kaoru, you're in love? That's so sweet! Who is she? It's not Haruhi, is it?"

"No, senpai," he scoffed. "Far off base. Different category. Different sex, anyway."

"Oooooh!" Tamaki cooed, quickly crossing from parental enthusiasm to recondition. "So you really are a homosexual supporting character."

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, blushing even further. Tamaki blinked, shocked, and he lowered his head again. "Sorry…I guess you don't have anything to worry about with Haruhi on my end of the playing field."

He smiled even wider and, feeling his heart reverberate in his chest a couple abnormal times, and the heat move into his eyes in the for of liquid, Kaoru prepared to brush past the blond and exit the host club for the safety to cry in secret in another bathroom. It hurt, still. He thought he'd finally accepted the fact that it was hopeless, but to see him standing there, a love struck and idiotic grin on his mouth opened every single stitched up wound the boy had suffered earlier.

He'd managed to get three feet behind Tamaki before the liquid began to flow, hotly, down his cheeks. But that was also when he spoke. "Naw, I guess she doesn't--on either of our parts…"

He froze, face still hot and heart still beating irregularly. "You….what?"

Tamaki smiled. "You heard me…"


Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Paring: Hikaru Hitachiin x Tamaki Suoh
Title: InFamous
Rating: T, just for safty
Warning[s]: Yaoi/slash,homosexual themes.
Notes: This is very strangly portrayed...I don't really think i even liked how it turned out. Done for the music inspired challenge on SHINE, to which I chose 'When I Grow Up' by PCD.


Something was bugging Tamaki. Weather something internal or mental, the entire host club could sense it as soon as the usually flamboyant blond walked into the room. That’s right; walked. Not waltzed. Not skipped. Not danced. Walked…

Hikaru watched him warily as the older boy crossed the room to Kyouya’s desk, holding a single piece paper clutched in his hand and a clearly dejected look on his face. The Shadow King indulged his obvious self pity for a good minute or two before reminding the other boy that they had business to attend to.

“But the customers aren’t even here,” Tamaki wailed as Kyouya forcefully steered him out of his work space and pointed towards Haruhi.

“Go seek you complacent sympathy from someone else.”

Tamaki visibly wilted, his eyes going from Haruhi to Kyouya, then towards Hunny and Mori. And, finally, to the twins. And there his eyes lingered, even after Kaoru excused himself (for no reason) and went to bother the Shadow King.

Slowly, the blond walked towards the elder red head, shoulders slumped and head bowed in an almost comical display of depression. Hikaru found it would be easy to laugh off the sudden, fluttery feeling in his stomach and simply depress the older boy more, but he didn’t laugh.

“What’s that?” he asked suspiciously, pointing towards the piece of pink paper that his upperclassman was clutching as if it was his life line. “Detention or something?”

Tamaki sniffled pitifully. “I’m…I’m…I-I’m failing drama.”

Silence. The Hitachiin wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly. How could Tamaki—the flamboyant, eccentric, drama queen—be failing drama?! It seemed like an impossible feat (one that only the blond would be capable of) and a ridiculous one at that. But…wait…why was the blond even taking drama? He had his future set out in front of him to the nth degree, and no where in the fine print did it say ‘be in a production of Wicked on Broadway’.

“Tono…why are you taking drama? I don’t think you really have much of a career in that area…”

The look in Tamaki’s eye made something inside Hikaru wither and he suddenly felt horrible. The older boy’s eyes moist and the red head dodged out of the way before his upperclassman could throw himself, sobbing, onto his shoulders.

“It was always my dream to be famous!! Ever since I was little!! My mother always told me that my name would be recognizable!! People would point at it on billboards and say ‘I know him’ or ‘He’s so famous and good looking!’. BUT NO!!” Tamaki continued to cry. By now, he had the entire attention of the other hosts, as well as the few early comers to be hosted. Kyouya and Kaoru were observing this display lightly from a couch across the way.

“Uh…” Hikaru patted his king awkwardly on the shoulder. “There…there?”

“I said ‘Mama, I want to see the world on the red carpet and then drive fancy cars everywhere!!’ And I said that I didn’t want to be the Suoh heir!! I really didn’t.”

The blond was distraught. Hikaru glanced over his shoulder for his brother, silently pleading for help. None came. Kaoru simply shrugged and pretended not to know what he was saying.

“Uh…tono…” No response. “Tamaki?” The name felt foreign against his tongue.

“Yes?” The blond looked up, brilliantly blue eyes watery and looking slightly red. His mouth was pressed together in a thin line that seemed to be suppressing tears.

Hikaru shook his head. “Uh…Even though I’m not one, I’m pretty sure that the only good thing about being a movie star is the groupies…and you’ve got them here.”

He heard the undignified squawk of what sounded like Renge and smirked as Tamaki’s attention was drawn towards the girls. He flushed at being caught in such a state, but seemed for pressed for comfort then retaining his dignity.

“Wh…what do you mean, Hikaru?”

“I mean…well, I guess you don’t need drama. You can say what you want to say, but dreams do die, senpai…Most of them, at least. Haven’t you ever been disappointed in life?”

“…No.” It could have been a lie, but Hikaru didn’t press the buttons. Instead, he opted for the matter.



Furrowing his brow, the Hitachiin pressed forward even more. “Love?”


There. He’d struck a nerve and now the only thing to do was screw it in deeper until Tamaki’s depression about the failed grade was utterly forgotten. It was a sucky way at best, but the only way he knew to comfort someone without touching them, and touching Tamaki at this point might be a bad idea. A…very bad idea.

“You do have to let most of your dreams and ideals go for the sake of what you actually have a shot at in life. Like,” he lowered his voice so the customers couldn’t hear, no matter how hard they strained their ears. “Like you affections for Haruhi. You had to let them go because your grandmother wouldn’t let you marry her and even now you’re—wait; why are you shaking your head?”

“It’s not Haruhi.”

Hikaru suspiciously raised an eyebrow. If the blond wanted to taunt him and toy with the conflicting emotions behind the red head’s eyes, than fine. Hikaru’s tone hardened.

“Either way, you had to give whoever it was up, the same way you will have to about being a super star.”

“But…but you said you had to give up things to, and you’re still infamous.” The older boy was pushing buttons in a very dangerous location now. On that ranged between the older red headed twin’s ‘annoyance’ button and one that was far less innocent. The simpering look made Hikaru want to jump Tamaki in five seconds flat, if he could.

“Well, you see, I’m a fashion designer; people will always have their eye on what me and Kaoru turn out. You’re going to be a school chairman…”

There was a silence. He heard several sniffles and coos about ‘wonderful boy love’ from the girls but generally ignored them. It was what people said and it didn’t always have to be right…even if this time it was.

Tamaki hung his head, this time more in contemplation than depression. Noting this, Hikaru attempted to move away, moving to lift himself off of the couch and eyes trained on Kaoru, but the feeling of someone grasping the sleeve of his school uniform caused him to fall back on sofa.

“Tamaki, what the hell—“

“When you said that I had to give the other person up—the one that disappointed me in love—I didn’t.” The words rushed over the blonde’s lip, cascading down with a speed and ferocity that seemed so unlike the simpering, sad tone he’d been using just moments before. Hikaru was taken aback.

“Oh. Then I’d say just be careful what you wish for. Maybe that person will chose to return your feelings, and that’ll be worse than not giving them up.” He glared at his sleeve, which was still stuck between the blonde’s fingers. “Senpai, let go.”

“No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Either way. Be careful what you wish for. Who knows; maybe that person will kill you—I kinda want to right now—and then you will be famous.”

His well calculated put downs did nothing to dissuade the other boy. In turn, Tamaki’s eyes hardened in a kind of stupid determination that seemed befitting and revolting in his stance at the same time. Hikaru suddenly realized that this was the passionate side of Tamaki; the side that had slammed Haruhi’s would-be attacker into a wall, the side that fought hard to gain the trust of his brother, himself, Kyouya and Hunny. The side that would jump off a bridge to save a friend.”

“No. He wouldn’t do that.”

An exaggerated rolling of the eyes accompanied the following statement. “How the hell do you know? If you know this person so very well, then why didn’t you either make a move or simply give up, which you claim you didn’t.”

“Would you?”

Shock and suspicion clouded over the amber irises of the younger boy as he stared into intensely blue ones. Off to the side, Kaoru shifted uncomfortably against Kyouya’s desk, almost as if to move towards the pair seeking the attention. Did Tamaki just lay out everything in front of his oblivious brother like that? Had he really just asked Hikaru if ‘he would?’, whatever he meant by that? Shrugging, Kaoru figured the words had some meaning.

“W-…would I what?” The look had gravitated out of his eyes and into his voice. What was Tamaki playing at?

“Would you kill me?” The blond scrunched up his eyebrows and hand loosening on the cuff of his fellow host. Tamaki withdrew and leaned back, breath heavily as if he’d just run a mile and looking more nervous than determined.

“…No, senpai.” Hikaru scoffed, then hurriedly added, “I don’t think Kyouya-senpai would let me.”

A small, pained smiled made it’s way onto Tamaki’s mouth and the other boy watched it. He had to mentally slap himself to get his eyes to redirect to the blonde’s entire face again.

“That’s how I know…”

Tamaki had always wanted attention. His sadness at failing drama and not getting cast in a school play were true, evident and raw emotion. However, he found himself rather largely compensated when news spread around school that he was in love with the older Hitachiin twin. What could he say? Nothing. He didn’t complain; not when the rumors were published in the school news paper, news cast nor written on the bathroom walls. Nor did he complain when the object of his so called ‘desire’ asked him if it was true, he admitted it and the two had…well, let’s just say the relationship that would form from the word ‘yeah’ would prove to be quite obscene, well publicized and romantic.

No. Hikaru had warned him before to be careful what he wished for and he had been. But sometimes being careful was a little too hard. Especially when you’re scared of losing all your dreams (when in reality you’re really just failing a class).

Tags: fanfiction, hikaru x tamaki

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