Thanks to everyone who read or reviewed the first chapter! I hope you enjoy the ending!

"Kyoya-sempai? What…?" The girl's voice was a little rough, like her throat was dry. She was tangled up in the white comforter below her and pressed into a strong shoulder, her hand on the adjoining chest, the owner's on her small hip. "Damn it," she swore crossly while she furrowed her brow as if in pain. The boy smirked and opened his dark eyes languidly, sounding like he had been awake for a while.

"I do believe that Tamaki and the Hitachiin's may have spiked the punch."

"They what?" the young woman snapped, already fuming, her hand pulling away from his chest and moving to massage her temple. The young man's hand did not move. "At the Host Club party?"

"The evidence would suggest," he answered her coolly, his bare eyes studying the ceiling.

"But what am I doing here, sempai?" Her anger shifted easily to the nearest Host Club member, the very near Host Club member.

"You were very, very drunk. Again, I believe the evidence is more than adequate for inference. You slept in longer than I did, and from the looks of things, you're suffering from a considerable headache."

"Is this your house, sempai?" Her words held a quality that would have made the rest of the club cautious in answering, but they seemed only to exacerbate Kyoya Ootori's indomitable sarcasm. His eyes shifted back to the young woman at his side.

"But of course, Haruhi. You don't recall? We got drunk and made passionate, passionate-"

"Would you cut it out? We're still dressed, sempai," she answered him evenly, even impatiently as she waited for another answer, eyes unwavering on his. His smirk twitched dangerously close to something more. "You wouldn't, anyway," she rolled her eyes now, voice matter-of-fact, before closing her eyes and muttering, "what did I do to deserve spending even my Saturday mornings with you bastards? I have to go grocery shopping today." The Shadow King's smirk faded, and he arched a single black eyebrow over at her.

"One of these days you may find your confidence misplaced, Haruhi Fujioka," he said it like a warning, but she just blinked over at him calmly, undaunted, perhaps a bit annoyed by his persistence.

"Not in you, sempai. We've talked about this before; you're way too nice a guy to take advantage of someone like that." He smirked again and then moved his thumb where it lay, slowly tracing the shape of her hip just below her dress shirt, which had come un-tucked in the night. The girl stiffened just slightly at the show of intimacy, but her face betrayed no emotion. "I told you to cut it out, sem-"

"You know, you did manage to get my tie off," he informed her in a voice low and almost melodic, his face leaning over hers as he moved his fingers in a trail up her waist, his breath shifting her hair slightly as it brushed near her cheek. For a moment the girl's eyes flickered, as if a fragment of memory had found a hold in her brain. "But then maybe you're right, in a way," the corner of his lips turned up in an arrogant smile, his own eyes flashing darkly, "I had nothing to gain, did I?" The Shadow King paused for a long moment, and then he sat up and took his thin wire glasses from the table beside the bed, letting his hand fall carelessly off the girl's small frame.

"But you didn't leave, either," Haruhi spoke finally. He blinked as if surprised, and for just a moment his eyes dropped back down to her face.

"No," the dark haired boy admitted, "I didn't." He adjusted his eyeglasses, and they caught the glare of the morning sun that streamed through the windows, blocking his eyes. He took on his Tour Guide voice. "Breakfast will be brought up in a few minutes. You're of course welcome to the guest bath, and there are fresh clothes in the bureau."

"Kyoya-sempai," the girl spoke the young man's name before he could move off the bed, and her voice held an echo of her somber tone of the previous night. She shifted quietly into a sitting position, knees drawn up towards her chest, but he didn't look at her. Small fingers brushed his arm, and his hands gripped slightly at the comforter below them. "Did I say something last night that… I mean, did something happen to… I thought I remembered-" As she spoke, the boy absentmindedly adjusted his glasses again, his fingers lingering on the frames as though the metal held some faint memory, and before she could finish her sentence, his body pivoted smoothly into hers.

There was no hesitation in her response. Just as the night before, the two teenagers moved together in near perfect unison. Haruhi Fujioka's fingers wove into Kyoya Ootori's silky black hair, and Kyoya Ootori's hands pulled Haruh Fujioka's slender waist close. Sober and well-rested, there was less desperation in their movement, but no less emotion. For a few long seconds their lips moved quietly together, their breathing spiked and fell synchronously, their hands drew each other closer, but then a familiar smirk pulled up at the corner of the boy's lips as he smoothly put a breath of space between their bodies.

"There's a toothbrush for you in the adjoining bathroom," he whispered, lips still brushing hers. "You'd do well to take advantage of it." The girl's jaw tightened.

"Go eat your damn breakfast, sempai." His dark smirk widened to what seemed remarkably like a genuine smile, his cold onyx eyes lightening to something extraordinarily akin to laughter. He slipped off the bed, scooped his blue uniform coat off the floor, and nonchalantly checked his cellphone. She rolled her eyes at his back and muttered a curse under her breath, which he pretended not to hear.

"That qualification met, Haruhi," the third son of the Ootori family added casually but suddenly from the doorway, glancing up from his phone and back at her over his shoulder only briefly, "I wouldn't be ardently opposed to your staying for lunch."

Thank you all again for taking the time to read! :)