Imagine a typical August night and a typical teenaged couple going out for the evening. Whatever you imagine, it can't begin to come close to what it's like for Ootori Kyoya, whose credentials make him a most eligible bachelor among his peers. Yet, despite being in high demand socially, this young man is dating a commoner and 2nd-year honor student at Ouran named Fujioka Haruhi, a girl who used to pretend she was a boy throughout her 1st-year for financial reasons, still insists on wearing the male uniform and has no other interests except membership in the club directed by her beau. Typical? Not on your life. Yet, this unusually matched couple has been together for six months, seem well-suited to one another and are emerging as one of the younger social circle's power couples. Who could have predicted?

As they descend from Haruhi's second floor apartment and approach Kyoya's Lamborghini, a crowd is gathered on the street and curious onlookers peer down from balconies to see the chic vehicle as much as its occupants, the well-to-do brunet no longer an unusual sight in front of the apartment complex, but handsome enough to cause a stir whenever he's around. And tonight, Haruhi is dressed to the nines and looking decidedly feminine, her longer hair framing her face in a stylish bob.

Kyoya presses the remote and the doors slowly lift like the wings of some exotic angel. Haruhi looks up to see Kyoya gazing at the car with a smug expression.

"I think you like this car more than you like me," she teases.

"On the contrary," he says. "I love this car." He gives her a sideways downwards look. "I adore you."

"Smooth talker," she says before slipping into the vehicle while giving him a look of amusement. He beams a smile at her and hits the button that brings the passenger door down as he walks behind the car to enter the driver's side.

Haruhi looks out the tinted back window and sees the black vehicle signalling that Team Kyoya is on the job. She's not quite used to having security at every turn though she appreciates the security. Being from an elite family means paparazzi follow Kyoya nearly everywhere when they're in public lately. Even now, a photographer is snapping his photo, causing him to grumble, "Damn pests," once the door seals and they pull away.

They make their way through Sunday night traffic, worse in summer than in winter. Haruhi sinks into the leather seat without caring. The car is gorgeous and very much like its owner: classy, high-powered and surprisingly comfortable. The audio system is playing one of Tamaki's CD's, she's dressed nicely and is spending the evening with a young man who fills her heart. Life is good, except...

"Kyoya?"

"Hm?"

"Do you mind if I ask what you said to Momiji-san this afternoon?"

A wry smile quirks Kyoya's mouth. "I was wondering when you were going to bring that up."

"You know she's got her sights set on you and I think your father wouldn't mind her family merging with yours."

"Merging, eh? A good business term, Haruhi, but not one I like to use when talking about with whom I want to spend my life."

"I get that, but let's face it. Your family won't settle for anything less than an arranged marriage with someone who will bring merit to your family."

"Are you discounting the possibility that you might be under consideration as a possible future Ootori?"

"Me? But your father—"

"Approves of you."

"He does?" Her surprise is clear.

"Believe me, I was as surprised as you are when he said it, but he told me he thought Momiji-san wasn't who he thought she was, but that you have shown yourself to be a person he could support."

"You're kidding." Her surprise is genuine.

"Ootori do not kid. I told you once, I may say something ironic, but humor is not one of my traits."

"And yet you make me happy."

"Meaning?"

"It means, Ootori Kyoya, that despite being a hard ass in the world at large, as you once told me yourself, you're also one of the most considerate people I know."

"I'm honored, although considerate isn't exactly how most people would describe me."

"Well, I would, when it comes to people you care about. You may not think anyone notices, but I do even if our customers don't realize that you're the one who helps keep the Host Club going. You even made sure that our transition was a success, in the end. You do know that everyone knows that, don't you?"

"Of course. I didn't plan the event, but Renge was incapable of sustaining the momentum and I could."

"Did and still are," she says, "because you're amazing."

They're stopped at a traffic light, so he takes the opportunity to turn his head and lean towards Haruhi. "Kiss me," he says.

Haruhi obliges with a brief, soft kiss. When he refuses to withdraw in tacit demand for another, she says, "Ask me again when we get to wherever we're going."

"So that's how it is, is it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, then."

The light turns green and Kyoya puts the engine of the sports car to the test, focusing his efforts on keeping Hotta on his toes as the bodyguard keeps pace with the sleek vehicle getting them to the Ootori mansion in as short a period of time as possible without a ticket or damage of any sort.

Kyoya slows down only upon entering the neighborhood where his home is located and Haruhi realizes just how strong Ootori family etiquette and rules are ingrained in him. But it does allow her a chance to notice the beauty of twilight in the very posh, very private residential area. At his address, unmarked except for a brass plate etched with the family crest, massive iron gates slowly swing open to allow the car entry. The trees lining the winding driveway form a canopy over them as they approach the house without the usually lit beacons that assist the many guests who make their way here for business or pleasure.

Upon reaching the house, Haruhi notices something else. All of the house lights are off, except for the exterior front lamps and the foyer, making the modern structure appear somewhat foreboding as the sun sets behind the treeline. Kyoya parks opposite the front doors and cuts the engine. Haruhi looks behind them, but sees nothing and no one in the magenta-tinted light.

"It's very different from the other times I've been here," she says.

"Tonight it's just the two of us. And Team Kyoya, of course, who will leave us alone unless I call for them, and the usual number of Black Onion Squad police scattered throughout the property with their dogs on patrol."

"But other than that…"

"Other than that, we're quite alone and it's all for you." She smiles at his definition of "alone."

Kyoya raises the car doors and comes around to Haruhi's side. "My lady," he says and she takes his offered hand, using it to rise from the low-slung vehicle. As she gains her balance, he pulls her into an embrace and leaning her back, captures her lips with his own, one hand cradling her head while other is at her back. The move is dramatic, but his kisses are soft and caressing, insistent, stealing her breath away and raising her pulse. Having been with him most of the day without such contact, his passion leaves her weak and she wraps her arms around him, allowing herself to be supported by him as his maleness penetrates her senses.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he says, holding her close when they part. "And waiting for tonight to begin."

"Me too," she murmurs, burying her face into his chest with a sudden sense of sadness. When she doesn't lift it right away, he grows concerned.

"Are you alright? I promise you nothing untoward will happen without your say-so."

"I trust you," she says, then looks up into his shadowed face. "I just want to remember everything about tonight before…"

"Before?"

"Before you leave for America." She hugs him tightly.

He kisses her forehead. "I'll be back as often as I can, but please be happy tonight. I've planned something special which is why I've asked you to dress formally."

Haruhi partially pulls out of his embrace and looks up. "Ye-ah, I was wondering about that."

He arches a brow, saying nothing as he takes her hand and leads her into the house. The foyer is even larger than how she remembers it without noise and people to fill it. "I've already given you the grand tour once, but we can do it again, if you like," Kyoya says.

"Maybe later?" she says and her stomach gurgles loud enough to be heard. "Sorry. I wasn't hungry earlier but I'm starving now." Her emphasis on the word 'starving' makes Kyoya chuckle.

"I suspected as much. Come." They continue through the dimly lit mansion, past his father's closed study doors and the open dining room ones showing a cavernous dark space. They continue down another hallway and through a state-of-the-art kitchen.

The scent of something delicious fills her nostrils and Haruhi's stomach growls again. "Where are you taking me?"

"Patience. This is a big house, if you recall."

"How could I forget when I'm already lost?"

They come to an exterior exit and seeing the look of confusion on Haruhi's face, Kyoya smiles and says, "Not much farther." He opens the door and head into the maze of topiary gardens at the rear of the house.

Kyoya's sense of drama has been a source of surprise from the very beginning of her days with the Host Club and tonight is no exception. When at last they emerge into an open area, they're standing on an inlaid patio that has been transformed into a cozy space filled with topiaries, candlelight and colorful flowers. A single table is set with elegant china, crystal and silver, flanked by freestanding candelabra. A thousand mini-lights twinkle among the shrubbery matched only by the early stars above. The sound of a koto begins and Haruhi notices a pair of women seated in one lit corner, the second musician adding the ethereal sound of a bamboo flute. Their music is traditional and lovely, and each of them is dressed and made up in the traditional style of the geisha.

"When did you do all this?" Haruhi is duly impressed, knowing that Kyoya had mere hours to pull the evening together.

"Didn't I tell you I'm resourceful?"

Charmed by the relaxing music and elegant set up, she then notices a familiar face working beneath a spotlight at the canopied food prep table. He's wearing a crisp white coat over his other clothing and a traditional sushiman's white cap with the Ootori family crest emblazoned on it.

"Aijima-san?"

"Indeed," Kyoya confirms. "He's actually a man of many talents and cooking is one of them, especially preparing sushi and sashimi. He'll be serving several of his personal specialties tonight. I hope you aren't disappointed that I didn't order in, after all."

"Oh no," Haruhi reassures. "It's just that I never thought of Aijima-san as a chef."

"By the end of our meal, you will."

Dinner proceeds, with one of the geisha becoming their server while the other sings for them with shamisen accompaniment. They enjoy ootoro and other delights while conversing about kyudo, schoolwork, books they've both read and enjoyed and books they disagree about as well as the movie they watched last weekend at her apartment. They drink tea prepared in the traditional manner and served in antique cups Haruhi recognizes from the one she once used in the Bentley that took her to school one morning.

"Shall we postpone dessert for a bit?" Kyoya asks and Haruhi nods. They thank Aijima and the geisha for a wonderful experience and the three adults leave. Alone again, music of another sort begins to play through the hidden sound system. It's Haruhi's favorite singing artist whose specialty is love ballads. The music is recorded but she doesn't care because Kyoya turns to her and says, "Shall we dance?"

She loves slow dancing – the way their bodies move together, sharing a special moment in time. It's magical. They begin almost as strangers, Haruhi always being a little shy, at first. They begin in a classic waltz position but as the music goes on, Kyoya pulls her near, his hand secure at her back, hers tucked in at his shoulder, while the others are clasped together over his heart. She had to learn how to follow his lead, being a headstrong individual, but soon learned that Kyoya is a good dancer: graceful, strong and assured. She discovered it was nice to just go along, for a change.

Their eyes meet and though they smile, Kyoya feels a moment of discomfort, certain she is able to see right into him, all of his feelings for her laid bare and then he, too, allows himself to just concede the moment. They don't cover much ground in their slow, almost stationary movement, but their emotions are shifting into intimate territory, barriers dissolving between them as the worries of the day fade and the only thing they think about is one another.

With heels on, Haruhi is able to rest her head against Kyoya's' shoulder and he presses his cheek to hers, pulling her even closer against him until they're sealed from cheekbone to thigh and she wishes the music could go on forever. They move in a rhythm that is uniquely their own, regardless of the song playing, as the candles burn down and time stands still. At one point she lifts her face and they kiss, and kiss, and kiss, still dancing. It's something she would never do in public, but here and now, it's perfect. She actually feels dizzy with her eyes closed and the world spinning around her. When at last they part and Kyoya says, "Walk with me," she isn't sure she can.

She links her arm in his for support, leaving her shawl and purse behind as they meander through perfectly manicured gardens, the jasmine fragrant in the warm August night as tiny house bats swoop overhead and crickets sing all around them. Kyoya dreams of a day when Haruhi and he will own their own gardens for entertaining, while Haruhi imagines their children running about catching the fireflies that add their winking glow to the scene.

They step down into a circular recess where a fantastic stone fountain is showcased, one of several on the estate. This one is an Italian import with elaborate carvings of sea creatures - seahorses, starfish, urchins and octopi that spiral upward into a trio of large fish spouting a huge spray that cascades back into a sparkling painted pool lit from beneath with various colors that illuminate the surrounding area.

Kyoya turns to Haruhi. "I want you to know that these last six months have been the happiest I've known because of you. I know you're worried about being apart, but I'm not because I know how I feel." He reaches into the tuxedo jacket's inside pocket and pulls out a small box. Haruhi's eyes widen.

"Kyoya—"

"I'm not proposing marriage although the idea has crossed my mind. I'm aware that we both have a great deal of schooling ahead of us and careers to build, but," he pauses to open the box, revealing the name Piaget and a delicate ring in the shape of a rose, its petals encrusted with diamonds and a small solitaire at its center. "I'm hoping you'll accept this ring as a promise for the future."

The brunette can hardly breathe as she looks at the ring, which probably costs much more than the necklace she wears or any of the other baubles he's gifted her thus far.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll accept my promise to you and give me yours."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Very sure." He's watching her carefully and seeing her usual reluctance to accept his usually expensive gifts, he snaps the box shut and places into his nearest pocket.

"Kyoya! What are you doing?" Haruhi cries in surprise as the brunet steps in to lift her off her feet, carrying her to the edge of the fountain pool and holding her over the water. "Put me down this instant!"

"Promise me."

"Are you crazy?"

"Maybe I am. Maybe that's actually something I've learned from Tamaki. But I'm crazy about you and I don't want to lose you to some Tokyo Romeo while I'm away."

"You won't."

"Promise me, then. If you don't want the ring, at least promise me verbally."

"The ring is lovely. I want it. I do. Just please put me down."

Kyoya considers his options and releases his hold, just for a few seconds, just to hear Haruhi cry out and to catch her again in his arms. She begins to pummel him with one free fist while her other arm grips him tightly around his neck. "I swear Ootori-san, if I go down, you're going down with me."

Kyoya begins to laugh softly, carrying Haruhi away from the fountain and into one of the four carved shrubbery niches that surround the fountain. There, he sits down on a travertine settee, pulling Haruhi onto his thigh between his legs, his back supported at one end by one of two scrolled endposts. He waits until she stops yelling at him before pulling out the box once more. This time, when he takes out the ring, she allows him to place it on the fourth digit of her left hand, a clear statement of their mutual understanding of its meaning.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, wrapping her free arm around his waist and leaning into him while holding out the hand with the ring, admiring it.

"No more so than its owner," he replies, kissing her cheek.

"I've been told," dropping the hand into her lap, without looking at him, "that I'm clueless when it comes to knowing how I feel about things even though I'm great at giving advice to others and, that's probably true. But there's one thing I do know. I care about you, very much. I'm not sure if it's love since I've never been in love before, but I do know that I can't give you up. So yes, I'm willing to promise myself to you even though I'll miss you terribly while you're away."

She throws her free arm around his neck and turns her face towards his to be kissed. He obliges, taking his time until he feels the tip of her tongue invade his mouth and he responds in kind. As their ardor grows, his lips move to nibble her ear and she sighs with contentment. He maneuvers her off his lap and onto the bench pulling her tighter against him as he kisses and suckles her neck and shoulder, her body melting under his attentions. When his hand moves beneath the hem of her dress and upwards along her bare thigh, she anticipates his touch with a shiver of pleasure. He smiles when he feels the lacy thong.

"When did you get this?" he growls in her ear.

"Stop. You know you ordered it yourself from that catalog you put in my bookbag."

"Color?"

"Pink, if you must know, like the bandeau I probably don't need."

"You'll have to show me, but not right now. Right now, I want to make you feel good."

He follows through by sliding his hand beneath the elastic at her mound and pushing aside the scrap of fabric to run his fingers along her fold. An involuntary noise sounds from the back of her throat and she parts her legs for him, leaning back against his chest. He takes advantage of her willingness by sliding his finger into her and she tilts back her head, mewling her pleasure against his neck. He withdraws to circle her clit and repeat the action, savoring the small sounds of pleasure he elicits from her.

Kyoya's fingering is slow and methodical, never pushing her until she's hungering for greater stimulation which she indicates with a murmured, "more" and he steps up the pace until she's moving her hips to increase the pressure he provides. She grapples for his free hand with her own and finds it spanning her hip, holding her steady. Her small hand is atop his larger one, grasping it for leverage as she continues to gyrate against his fingers.

They're both breathing heavily and Haruhi can feel him growing hard against her lower back. The thought that she's the one causing it to happen is exciting and knowing there's no one around to interrupt or stop them, she gives herself over to the sensations completely.

"Say my name," Kyoya commands and she does as he withdraws his hand to flutter the pads of his fingers quickly against the now engorged bud of her pleasure. The sudden change ratchets her higher. "I want you," he exhales. "I want to be inside you."

His need is clear and as she tips over the edge into a hard climax, she breathes, "Yesss" and a cry blossoms from her throat. Kyoya slows his movements but continues stroking as spasms shake her body, driving thought from her mind.

He presses his lips into her hair, allowing them time to catch their breath. Eventually, he sits forward and stands, bringing Haruhi along, still glowing from their sexplay. She straightens her dress which shows no damage and when she turns to look at Kyoya, his eyes are intent on her, pupils wide with desire.

"Where can we go?" she asks.

"I have an idea," he answers.

He takes her hand and leads her, this time with determination, through more gardens until they come to another enclosed, private patio, this one she vaguely remembers as housing a large hot tub. Now, it holds what looks to be an onsen with steam rising off the water.

Haruhi stops, causing Kyoya to pull up short. "Wait a minute. Seems like you were planning something all along Mr. I-Have-An-Idea."

Kyoya drops his head while giving her a sideways glance saying, "Did I mention that my family just replaced the hot tub with this unit? It's the latest in health care. This naturalistic setup gives those unable to travel to an actual hot spring the feeling that they're experiencing one. I thought we might give it a try to see if it's that true."

She tips her head to one side. "Sounds like when we visited the Tropical Aqua Garden."

"Similar, though without the wildlife, the Black Onion Squad or the Host Club interfering with our enjoyment."

"I didn't bring a swimsuit."

"Who said anything about swimsuits?" At the look of surprise in her face, adds, "You said you're wearing something pink and lacy, didn't you? I'm sure that'll do."

She heaves a great breath, her eyes meeting his. "I'll need help with the zipper." She turns her back to him and he steps in, his hands spanning her waist, then rising to cup her breasts.

"Ummm, the zipper?" she urges and he smiles, undoing the garment easily.

"There are hangers, yukata and zori in the Ladies' cabana," he says.

She steps away, giving him her own version of a sideways Host smile and leaving him behind to enter the changing room. As she undresses, she hears some ethereal New Age music begin to play and when she emerges, she finds Kyoya already in the water, his eyeglasses off and his arms outstretched along the walls. At one end of the pool, water gurgles down a bank of natural stone adding more healing sound to the mix. Sandalwood incense is burning on a bamboo table beside a single orchid.

She stands at the edge of the onsen knowing that she's about to take a further step into adulthood. Somehow, she never imagined it would be like this, but she's glad that she is, even if she is scared, and glad that it's with him. She sheds the zori and flowered yukata and sits down at the top of the steps leading into the water wearing only the bandeau and thong. Arranging herself into a pretty pose she softly calls Kyoya's name. No answer. She calls again and still, no answer.

She notices his eyes are closed. "Great," she mumbles and enters the water, sitting opposite him on the inlaid bench, submerged up to her chest, the water lit from underneath allowing her to study Kyoya's body. It's lean from hours of kyudo practice, muscular without being bulky, and naked. Kyoya is naked! She's never been in the presence of a live naked man before and curiosity overtakes her as she studies her lover's lightly muscled arms and chest, tapered waist, the ribs and hip bones visible. Then there's the cock which she thinks plain in its present state and wonders how much it can actually change. His legs are long, accounting for most of his height.

Gathering her courage, she wades over to where he is and carefully straddles his lap. With his eyes still closed, his arms leave the sides of the pool and engulf her, pulling her against his chest. A secretive smile plays on his lips as his eyes open to meet hers.

"Had a good look did you?" he says causing Haruhi's cheeks to color. "It's okay. I'm not shy about my body though it does seem unfair that you get to see all of me but I haven't seen all of you, although the pink bikini is very nice."

"And what do you think we should do about that?" she says, arching her arms over her head while leaning her face towards his.

He answers by releasing the hooks at the back of her bra and letting it float free. "Perfect," he says, looking down through the water between their bodies at the peaks of her breasts. "Now for the rest." He hitches his thumbs through the elastic on either side of her hips and with one strong tug, rips the elastic open so that the lovely, lacy panties float free, as well.

She gasps, then chides, "Do you know how expensive that lingerie was?"

"I do, since I purchased it, and worth every penny," he says. "This, however, is much better. And fairer, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

As her hands explore the familiar terrain of his chest, his mold themselves to her bottom. He squeezes and she feels the cock she thought plain grow interesting. He nudges her upwards as he slides down, stopping only when his mouth can take in one rose-peaked nipple, his tongue teasing her feminine flesh, drawing from her a prolonged sigh. She burrows her flushed cheek into his damp hair.

He relishes the small sounds that escape her, filling him with masculine pride. He suckles her, hands sliding upward, molding themselves to the concave curve of her waist. He remembers a thousand random touches and as many fantasies. His sighs intermingle with hers as his mouth takes in her other breast. A small whimper of pleasure escapes her at his tongue's rough swipe, and he makes note of her preference.

Their hearts are thrumming, focus narrowing to the moment and the sensations that their bodies are generating. As his cock enlarges, he shifts their positions so Haruhi's core rides its length and he hums with pleasure. They kiss and grind like that, Kyoya growing more and more inflamed until he rasps at her ear, "Did you mean it when you said 'yes' before?"

"To what?" momentarily confused.

"When I said I wanted to be inside you, you said 'yes.' Did you mean it?"

"Will it hurt?" she asks, thinking about the tales she's heard from some of the girls at club.

"Only if you tense up. Please, Haruhi. You're beautiful and I want you so badly." His breathing is labored and he's at full length against her.

She nods assent, her heart pounding. "But slow, yeah?"

"I'll try." He partially lifts her off his lap. "You'll have to help."

She nods and reaches through the water to take hold of his stiffness. She grips a little too hard and Kyoya says, "Easy with that."

"Ooh, sorry," she says easing her grip, causing her hand to slide up and down with the water's movement. He moans in pleasure. "Do that again."

She begins stroking and he closes his eyes. Haruhi watches the pleasure in his features ebb and flow until he says, "Let's get to it." She helps him guide the tip of his cock into her opening.

"You okay?" he asks, noticing her trembling.

"Uh-huh."

"Then I want you to decide how much and how fast you take me in."

"All the way?"

"If you can."

"I can do this," she says with authority.

"I know you can. Good girl," he commends.

They look at each other then, suddenly aware of their actions, their studious attitude and the topic at hand. Laughter breaks out between them, breaking the tension. Haruhi is still chuckling, their foreheads together when he murmurs, "I love you."

"What?" she says in a tiny voice.

"Nothing. I didn't mean to s- Dammit."

Haruhi leans in and kisses him softly, then says, "Let me show you how I feel." Her hands are at his shoulders and she's slowly descending, the water keeping her buoyant as well as Kyoya's hands at her waist.

"I want this," she says. "No matter how far apart we ever are, I want to remember this night and our promise to each other."

"Haru— ahhh."

When she feels her pubic bone bump against his, she looks into his eyes with mild surprise. She begins to move and all speech stops. His mouth is open and it is only his kyudo discipline that prevents him from climaxing immediately.

"Stop," he says and she stills.

His breathing is heavy, ragged and uneven. Her hands brace against his shoulders and he feels the tension of her shins beside his thighs. Seconds that feel like hours pass as he struggles to regain control over himself even as the mere sensation of being inside of her sends waves of pleasure rippling through his body. He wants to savor these moments but she is, quite literally, breathtaking, and he has to admit weakness when he says, "I don't think I can wait for you."

"S'ok," she says sweetly. "Fly."

Even so, he's careful of her as he maneuvers them into a position that allows him to establish a rhythm of his body sliding in and out of her velvet heat. Knowing that he's given her what she needs, he takes control of her hips and drives into her with several brief, powerful thrusts that trigger the sharp crest of climax that rocks his body. He cries aloud, his seed propelled to her as he succumbs to the sweet surrender of Haruhi and ecstasy.

Slow-fading waves of pleasure flush through him, leaving him spent and truly drowsy. Haruhi is limp against him and he buries his nose in the warm, moist recess of her neck. There, he takes in the totality of what has just happened and he's pleased that he is the one to take her innocence, loving her as he does. The mechanics of sex never change, he muses, and gratification is simple enough. It's the emotional impact he feels with her that defines their tryst as different from others he's had, marking him forever not only as her "first," but also as his, in its own way.

Kyoya slips out of her, but keeps his arms around her. "Are you all right?"

She turns her face towards his. In a soft voice, she says, "I've never thought of losing my virginity as something I would save for my wedding night, but I did want it to be with someone I cared about, maybe even someone I love."

"Was it?"

"Yes. Thank you," she whispers and he doesn't ask what she means, exactly, content to leave things as they are.

He suddenly and unaccountably thinks of Tamaki and the words said to him in the backseat of a car so many months ago and finally, finally Kyoya understands the blond's deep need that night. Things are very different now, but at long last, Kyoya is able to forgive Tamaki - fully. He huffs a short laugh.

"What is it?" Haruhi asks.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Sex and love, discrete things good by themselves, but better together. Now he knows.

Haruhi pulls away and climbs up from the onsen. "I need a change of clothes. Do you have something I can wear?"

"Do you have to?"

She turns and finds Kyoya staring with open admiration at her naked body, making her feel suddenly shy again, so she grabs the towel and wraps herself up in it before pulling on the yukata. "Yes, I have to. Besides, I'm taking you up on that offer to see the house again."

Kyoya groans. "Now?"

"Yes, now. I feel good and we still haven't had dessert, remember?"

"Alright," he says in surrender, standing up without a trace of embarrassment to leave the pool, towel off and don his robe and his glasses. "Let's start with the dessert. Aijima made something earlier and set it aside for us."

"Funny thing, but I'm terribly hungry again."

"Then I suppose we should raid the kitchen."

They head into the house, Haruhi again being led through a maze of corridors until they're back in the kitchen lit only by under-counter lighting. They forage and find freshly made mitarashi dango, feeding one another right then and there, sucking the savory sauce off one another's wrinkly fingers.

Thereafter, Kyoya spends time showing Haruhi the mansion's many rooms and floors, leaving her amazed that human beings actually live the way the Ootori do on a regular basis. Everything is top drawer and impeccably kept. The final room inside the house yet to be seen is Kyoya's bedroom.

Haruhi enters the bi-level room and is amazed. "I remember this room being big, but now I think two of my apartments could fit in here!"

"It would seem so," Kyoya says, as if such an observation were assumed. "Would you like to watch a movie or anime?"

"How about an anime movie?"

"I have an early release copy of 'Your Heart, My Mistake,' if you like Studio Neko stuff."

"I love Studio Neko stuff. Let's watch that," Haruhi says as she sits down on the white leather sofa opposite the giant viewing screen. Kyoya gets the streaming started then says, "I'll get you something to wear," then heads up the flight of stairs to the sleep level.

As she watches the mini-documentary about the making of the film, she looks around and notices stacked on the side table nearest to her a pile of black notebooks just like the ones Kyoya uses at Host Club. The top one is labeled "Places" and she picks it up.

She wonders if its snooping if it's so available for viewing. It's a private room, but also an entertainment area. Besides, they're only club notebooks, not personal journals, right?

She looks inside. Her surprise couldn't be greater when she finds not names of customers or columns of expenses but sketches upon sketches of rooms, buildings and landscapes. There are renderings done in pen, pencil and inkstone, beautifully executed. Setting the first book down, she picks up another, this one labeled, "People." In it she finds sketches of their friends at club and classmates. She smiles at the likenesses so wonderfully captured.

It's the third notebook, however, that grabs her attention most. It's label? Haruhi. She opens the book and finds dozens of images of herself – large and small - laughing, yelling, napping - angry, sad, happy; it's herself over the last year and a half in images that fill an entire notebook. Tears fill her eyes.

Kyoya returns, dressed in jeans, a black safari shirt with rolled up sleeves and leather sandals. He approaches Haruhi from behind with an oversized teeshirt and a pair of boxer briefs. "I don't suppose these will do, will they?" He stops short upon seeing Haruhi surrounded by notebooks, the one with her sketches in her hands. "I see you've discovered another one of my secrets," he says.

"I didn't mean to pry," she says, embarrassed just a little, unable to look at him.

"And yet you have." He comes around the sofa and notices her wet cheeks. "Haruhi, please. Are they that bad?"

"They're wonderful!" she says, looking at him with a smile. "I can't believe you never showed them to me before now. Your sister said you were gifted and you are. But, I've seen your notebooks at club and they're just filled with numbers and info about our guests. When did you do these?"

"At random times, when things were going well and no one was paying attention to me. Some I sketched from photos and some I simply did memory. You, for example."

"You can draw me from memory? Surely I'm not that memorable."

"To me, Haruhi, your face is one I look forward to seeing each day and dream about most nights. It's been that way for nearly a year now."

"But we only started dating six months ago. When-?"

"After our day at Bonmal. I found myself thinking about some of the things you said then. I found myself thinking about some of the things I said, too. You've always looked past my façade and that intrigued me. After that, I found myself noticing you more and more."

Haruhi says, "Well, nobody is going to notice me in those clothes," she says, gesturing with her head at the garments he holds, "but turn around and I'll put them on."

"You seem to forget I've already seen you naked."

"No, I haven't forgotten, but too much too soon spoils things. I want to leave you wanting more."

"I already want more, Haruhi. Need I remind you that there's a nice comfortable bed just up that staircase? And I promise you, I'll last longer this time."

"That's alright. I think sharing one of these sofas and watching a movie will be just fine. Then I'm going home.

"Next time," he says, with a twitch of his brow.

"Guess I really am a woman, now, huh?" she says recalling to mind for the both of them words she said the very first time he kissed her. She knows he remembers it, too, by the look on his face as he hands her the items. He turns his back and she slips into the boxers, rolling over the waistband so they're only a little baggy and Kyoya's tee shirt which looks like a dress on her.

As the movie plays, the teens lie side by side, Kyoya's arm draped around Haruhi, and despite wanting to see the film, Kyoya is asleep within five minutes. When Haruhi notices, she slips out from under his arm and donning her zori, kisses his cheek and leaves the room to find Tachibana seated just beyond the closed door.

"May I help you, young Miss?" he asks, standing up as soon as he sees her.

"Kyoya is asleep and I don't want to disturb him. Could you get me a cab, please? I'd like to go home."

"Of course. I'd bring you there myself, but Hotta-san and Aijima-san have gone home and—"

"You can't leave him alone. I know. I get it now. Thank you for taking such good care of him…and me."

"It's a pleasure to serve, young Miss. Your shawl and your purse are on the table by the front door."

"Thank you. I left my formalwear by the onsen."

"I'll have your things sent to your home in the morning, young Miss."

"Thank you. Y'know, one of these days you're going to start calling me Haruhi, like I've asked you a million times."

"On the contrary. One of these days I expect to be calling you my young Master's wife."

"Maybe. One day faaaarrrr in the future. But for right now, it's Haruhi, okay?"

"Of course, young Miss. I'll get you that cab now."

Haruhi just smiles.

End – Epilogue – Part 3/3
Your Touch

A/N: And there you have it. I hope you found this double chapter sexy, sweet and romantic, just like Kyoya and Haruhi together. I couldn't bear to split this into parts and so you have it entire. I hope you enjoyed it. So many people have made this story a success that I can't take credit alone. ALL of you kept me going and, in the end, I told the story I was meant to tell and that's all any author can do.

Stats: The story has been read by readers from: Aland Islands, Argentina, Australia, Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Belgium, Bermuda, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Brazil, Brunei Darussalam, Bulgaria, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Costa Rica, Croatia, Czech Revar, Denmark, Dominican Revar, Egypt, El Salvador, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Guadeloupe, Guatemala, Guernsey, Honduras, Hong Kong, Hungary, Iceland, India, Iraq, Ireland, Islamic Republic of Iran, Israel, Italy, Jamaica, Japan, Jordan, Kazakstan, Kuwait, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Malaysia, Mexico, Namibia, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Northern Mariana Islands, Norway, Oman, Pakistan, Panama, Peru, Philippines, Poland, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Qatar, Republic of Korea, Romania, Russian Federation, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Saudi Arabia, Serbia and Montenegro, Seychelles, Singapore, Slovakia, Slovenia, South Africa, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sweden, Switzerland, Taiwan, Thailand, Trinidad and Tobago, Tunisia, Turkey, Ukraine, United Arab Emirates, United Kingdom, United Republic of Tanzania, Uruguay, USA, Venezuela, and Vietnam.

The story also appears on Archive of Our Own, posted on May, 2013. There, it has garnered 318 kudos to date.

It's been an honor and a privilege to write this for you. In the process, I've learned a lot about myself as a person and improved as a writer. There have been some dark days, but mainly, the story and all of you have brought me more joy than you can imagine. And so it's with teary eyes and a big smile that I say goodbye to CIO and…arigatomashita gomenizai.

Your Touch by Blake Lewis [Kyoya–centric]

I've been writing you a story.
The headline reads we're meant to be.
See, I'm not one to write such fiction,
So let me be a reality
And show you what you mean to me.

BRIDGE
I'm thinking you and I
Should roll the dice, get lost in love forever
'Cause I'm feeling intoxicated.
I want to taste the air that you've been breathing.

CHORUS (2x)
So haunt me and feel me.
I've been waiting for your touch.
Your beauty consumes me.
I've never loved someone so…

Before I met you, my heart was heavy.
It was weighted down from all my pride.
And now I'm lost in your sweet surrender-
Confessing this love I have inside.
So now I'll show you what you mean to me.

BRIDGE

CHORUS (2x)

Much...

You know I'm lost in your sweet surrender...

Now I'm lost in your sweet surrender.

I want to be the one that you run to.
I want to be the one you say "I love" to.
Been waiting on forever just to hold you.
And our love will make the headlines bleed tonight.

CHORUS (2x)

Much.