When the Curtain Falls

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.

Warnings: Hinted slash and twincest. Spoilers for up to chapter 53 in the manga.

Author's Note: This is a collection of short fics for the 7snogs community challenge, bundled together because they're all chronological.

Author's Note II: I'm looking for a beta for my HikaxKao fics! I'm most interested in improving my characterization and romantic development, so, no worries if your strength lies not in grammar or spelling. However, the rating may go up in the future so...ehh...be warned. :D Just drop me a PM if you're interested. :)

The Act, Part I

Hikaru was late again that night.

When he fumbled to close the door behind him with numbed hands, breathing haggard in the silence, I glanced up only briefly from my open sketchbook. There was a raw flush to his face, his dark hair unruly and windswept. While he struggled with the zip of his jacket, I returned my full attention to sketching.

I knew, if I inquired, he would offer up another story about a late-night project or studying for an upcoming midterm. He didn't even bother to put effort into his lies any longer. My chest tightened, but I ignored the sensation, furrowing my brow as I mentally ran over the proportions of my drawn horse in full stride.

After a while I grew conscious of Hikaru's continued presence; I glanced up again and caught his silhouette framed against the darkening window, a bundle of fresh clothes forgotten under one arm.

His expression gave me pause: he gazed across the blackened grounds, features blank, something almost pained in the twitching of his jaw. It was so unlike my brother to seem so suddenly lost that I laid aside my pencil and leaned forward on the edge of the bed.

"Hika...?"

He jolted out of his thoughts with an irate shake of his head and grinned weakly at me. As he turned back into the light, the unknown haunted look in his eyes dissipated into familiar wryness, but I was certain nonetheless that it had been there.

"Hey, Kaoru, what's it supposed to be like, to kiss somebody?"

I opened my mouth and closed it dumbly. Haruhi, the thought bubbled up at the back of my mind. He was thinking about Haruhi again. I tried to ignore how that revelation made my stomach shrink. It was, after all, by my own coercion that he finally realized his feelings for her, so I should have been happy for him.

Nevertheless, it was impossible not to note the correlation between his new interest in her and the yawning distance between us.

Hikaru was still waiting, fidgeting absently with the collared shirt on top of his pile, and so I raised my eyes to him and presented what I hoped wasn't as grimacing of a smile as I felt it was. "Why are you asking me?"

Hikaru's hand moved to the back of his neck, an absent nervous gesture. "'Cause you kissed Haruhi before."

"Only on the cheek," I corrected him quietly. I realized my posture had gone rigid and sighed softly, returning my gaze to my lap. I noticed I'd forgotten to shade the horse's hooves and picked up my pencil again.

"It doesn't matter," Hikaru said stubbornly. "You kissed her, and I haven't. I...I don't think I can. I don't know if I'll be able to do it right, or, or if I'll just slobber over her, you know?" He had jolted into motion again and his weight compressed the mattress next to me, jarring my pencil strokes. When he leaned over, tilting his head for a glimpse of my drawing, I laid my arm across it.

"Well, you'll just have to try it then, won't you?" My voice came out cold and unfamiliar and Hikaru pulled back, eyes widening slightly.

Before the words left my mouth I knew my bluntness was uncalled for, and the wounded look in his eyes sent a pang of regret through my chest.

I'm sorry, aniki.

Still...

The last thing I wanted to think about was him kissing Haruhi. It had been cruel of him to spring that on me in the first place.

Thus petulantly justified, I returned to looking over my sketch, pretending not to notice Hikaru picking at a loose thread in our covers beside me and hoping he didn't realize in turn that my pencil had stopped moving a long while ago.

At last Hikaru's mumbled voice broke the tense silence. "You're right. You're right, Kaoru, and I guess I just thought...well, since you usually know better than me, I thought you'd be able to tell me."

I snorted aloud. "Who told you that?"

Know better than him... Right, if I knew anything I wouldn't have pushed Hikaru toward Haruhi in the first place; and I especially wouldn't have allowed myself to fall into the very trap I had sworn to avoid.

My shaking fists curled against the coiled edge of my sketchbook as Hikaru shifted up beside me on the edge of the bed. "No one," he corrected, undeterred, "because for once I didn't need anyone to tell me. Please, Kaoru, even if you just think I'm an oblivious idiot, just this once..."

"Just this once, what?" I demanded. His face was too close to mine now and I went cross-eyed trying to focus on the unfamiliar intensity blazing in his amber eyes.

"Just this once...trust me."

Trust him? Did I really come off so cold? In sudden shame I struggled to enunciate that I did trust him, heck, I'd always trusted him; weren't we always together for that very reason?

But I never had the chance to let him know: Hikaru only hesitated for a terrifying split-second before he purposefully closed the distance between us.

There was neither precedence nor abiding sense to his advance, and I froze at the first decisive contact of his dry lips. He lingered for a moment as if waiting for me to jerk back and crossly call him off: What the hell's wrong with you, kissing your own brother?

When I didn't so much as react, though, he pushed a little farther, a little more confidently, his lips rough and cold and - they must have been, I rationalized - identical to mine. All I could hear was the thunder of my own heart beating; I didn't dare to move and shatter this strange illusion. For a long moment, I even forgot to breathe.

Dizzied, I finally gasped for breath and was already overly lightheaded when Hikaru took the opportunity to slide his warm tongue between my open lips. Distantly protest surfaced at the back of my mind again: Hikaru, you haven't locked the door, anyone could see us...

But something more deeply rooted at the back of my consciousness surged to light as I realized I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

I was suddenly conscious of my hands burying themselves in his thick musky hair, knotting him against me, desperately smashing our lips back together in terror of what would happen when he let go.

The feverish torture overpowered my mind and too soon I caved, dragging him down on me as I sprawled spread eagled across the covers. Hikaru broke off and struggled to turn his head, his heaving chest pressing weightily upon me.

"You're not...half bad...you know?" he managed, a familiar slow smirk returning to his face. His tousled hair, more of a mess than before, distractingly flopped into his eyes.

I ran my tongue over my swollen lips and summoned the wits to speak. "Same to you."

Hikaru chuckled and shifted up on his elbows. "So, if I can get that reaction out of you, no problems with Haruhi then."

Just like that...

I felt the flush drain away from my face and stared at the far wall, a wave of cold rushing through my veins. Obliviously Hikaru rolled off me toward the edge of the bed and ended up, catlike, back on his feet.

I closed my eyes to fight off the prickling of tears as he rummaged for his abandoned clothes on the floor. How could you? The berating words beat within my head. How could you still let him do this to you, after all this time?

It was all still an Act, and nothing more.

Goddamn it, he had kissed me for Haruhi's sake.

I yearned to scream, but I waited until Hikaru had retreated into the shower before flopping face down on the mattress and fisting the disheveled bedcovers.

Stupid Kaoru. Stupid, stupid Kaoru.

I had promised myself not to let my emotions get in the way. I had promised myself to let go for his sake - so that in our learning to be different people, in my bringing him closer to Haruhi - Hikaru could finally be happy. To consider otherwise would only bring us pain. I repeated my mantra, tightening my fists.

Then I had to go and allow myself that futile hope - that utterly pathetic hope - and turn myself over to his control. Good job, Kaoru: why not make it blatantly obvious how much you depend on him?

And what of Hikaru, himself? I couldn't bring myself to contemplate why he had done something so reckless. I couldn't even begin to decipher what it was I was supposed to feel now.

I could be certain of one thing, though: even if I had been foolish enough to hope for a moment, there was now no doubt in my mind that Hikaru had only ever fed me lies. And why wouldn't he? Our Act worked wonders on our fans.

Too well, almost. I had nearly believed it myself.

From now on, I had no choice but to bury the bruises it left on my heart and treat him exactly as he was.

A liar.

Fin.

Next time: Part II. (Original titles, hey?)

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