Tamaki and Haruhi love each other, but Tamaki loves Kyouya as well. Kyouya, however, tries his best to push Tamaki away for the 'his own good'. They manage to find a compromise. Or 'What really hap...
"Kyouya," Tamaki called as he stood from the couch, turning towards the other boy. "Are you done? Can we go home now?"
"Not yet," Kyouya answered, and Tamaki pouted involuntarily when Kyouya didn't even turn to look at him. "You go on first, Tamaki. I'll call my chauffeur later."
Tamaki nodded, crossing the room with quick steps to peck Kyouya on the lips chastely. "Alright, but don't work yourself too hard, okay?"
Kyouya still didn't turn, didn't even pause in his typing. He nodded, as if distracted, and Tamaki frowned. He knew better than to disturb Kyouya when he was working, though, so he just squeezed Kyouya's arm briefly before leaving the room.
Kyouya didn't spare a glance for him once.
'/Okaa-san must've been really busy over lately, probably because of the school festival,/" Tamaki thought, frown deepening. '/We haven't gone home together for sixteen days! I hope he's not overworking again. We still have time for the festival, after all. There's still another week./'
"I'm Tamaki before I'm a Suoh."
Haruhi was surprised, and no little happy, that Tamaki had said this. He was strong, stronger than she was, to be able to overcome the obstacles she saw in his life and simply be himself. She knew that she, in his place, would not be able to stop herself from hating her grandmother instead of respecting her and seeking her acceptance as Tamaki did and was doing now. She was glad to have known him; known his strength, known how he wasn't just the frivolous idiot he acted like most of the time.
To say that she was shocked to realize that she did love him - truly love him, and not as a friend as she had once thought - would be a grave understatement. She contemplated for days whether or not to tell him - she didn't need a romance in Ouran, and it would just complicate things - but she had finally decided to, after Kyouya had told her that it was affecting her hosting and he might have to increase her debt as a result.
Haruhi had told him then, in her typically blunt manner, and he didn't hesitate before scooping her up and kissing her on the cheek, telling her how ecstatic he was, and oh, how beautiful she would look in a wedding dress! Haruhi had, at the time, taken it to be an affirmative that he loved her back, especially as he said so, in the middle of his wild ramblings.
However, she was completely unsurprised when Tamaki told her, wringing his hands and looking so very anxious that she felt like petting him on his head for reassurance, that he loved her, but he loved someone else as well.
"It's Kyouya-senpai, isn't it?" she asked softly, cutting off the blonde's hurried, incoherent explanations.
He blinked, "How did you- I mean, you're right, but," he leaned forward, suddenly grabbing her hands, "no one else knows, right? I mean, we have to be discreet and, well, I, uh-"
"I don't think anyone one else noticed, Tamaki-senpai," she interrupted him again, shaking her head. Oddly enough, she found herself smiling, and she didn't feel angry - about Kyouya-senpai or about the hard, somewhat painful grip Tamaki had on her hands - at all.
"Oh," Tamaki said, sitting down abruptly on the couch, leaning backwards with a sigh. "Oh, I see... Um, do you," he looked towards her, uncertain again, "do you mind? About me and Kyouya..."
"No," she replied honestly, giving him a small smile, just in case he didn't believe the sincerity of her words.
Tamaki blinked again, and a wide grin spread over his face. He leapt forward, hugging her so tightly that she suddenly couldn't breathe. "Haruhi~!" he twirled her around enthusiastically, and the girl was reminded of her first day as a host. "Thank you! Otou-san was so, so very worried about that. You are so non-judgmental, Haruhi! Such a good girl, so good, very good!"
"Ah, Tamaki-senpai," she choked out, trying to escape from his arms. "Tamaki-senpai! Let me go! How are things with - mmph! - you and Kyouya-senpai lately?" she barely managed to shout out the question. She really wasn't all that interested in knowing, but she needed Tamaki to let her go so she could breathe and not suffocate.
As if she had turned on a switch, Tamaki stopped, sitting down onto the couch. Black clouds gathered around his head, casting a dark glow over his blond hair, and the mood suddenly turned so gloomy that the room seemed to have darkened. Haruhi blinked: what mine had she stepped on now?
Tamaki sniffled, "I think he's avoiding me. It's been weeks since we did anything alone. He won't even go home with me. Haruhi..." he turned towards her, large violet eyes watering, and she twitched involuntarily, "What should I do? I love you, but I love him too and..." he stopped, burying his head into his arms. His sniffles increased in volume, and the dark clouds around him seemed to blacken further.
"I'll try to talk to him for you, Tamaki-senpai..." she placed a hand on his arm, resisting the strong urge to sigh. "After that, we'll sort this out between the three of us, alright?"
Tamaki brightened immediately, and he hugged her again, though not so tightly this time. Haruhi let him, and she also allowed that kiss on her cheek.
"Thank you," Tamaki whispered, and his smile was like a sun peeking out from the clouds after the rain.
It was rather difficult for Haruhi to get Kyouya alone for any amount of time. He seemed to be purposely adjusting his schedule and habits just to avoid both her and Tamaki. It was frustrating, but Haruhi persevered, partly for Tamaki's sake, partly because she knew something was really wrong for Kyouya-senpai, who was usually too direct, especially about emotions, to act this way. She succeeded in cornering Kyouya alone in the Third Music Room, after everyone had left, four days after her talk with Tamaki.
Tamaki was loitering outside the door, Haruhi knew, and that suited her purposes just fine. He needed to hear this (though whatever this was, she wasn't sure) anyway.
"Why are you avoiding Tamaki-senpai, Kyouya-senpai? You're hurting him," she asked, as blunt as ever.
Kyouya stopped typing. He sighed, pressing down the lid of his laptop until it closed with a 'click' before turning towards her.
"It's for his own good," he said, pushing his glasses upwards and tilting his head. The light glinted off the glass, obscuring his eyes. "It will be easier for him to be accepted by his grandmother, as well as the rest of the world, if he has a female lover. He will be better off if-" here, Haruhi thought she could hear his voice shake, just a little. Kyouya sighed, turning away from her. "I am his best friend, Haruhi, and it's better for all of us if I remain as only his best friend."
Haruhi frowned slightly. The answer had come too fast; Kyouya-senpai had been too forthcoming, which was uncharacteristic of him. He sounded almost like he had been rehearsing this for a long time... She didn't have much time to ponder more on this as the door slammed open just then, the sudden loud sound echoing throughout the room and breaking her train of thought.
Haruhi turned, and eyes widening when she saw Tamaki standing at the doorway, his hands clenched into fists. He stormed forward and Haruhi backpedaled quickly out of the way just as he gripped Kyouya, pulling him forward by his blazer. Haruhi didn't speak, didn't try to stop him. This was something between the two boys, something that she could not, /would not/, interfere with.
"/How/ can you say that?!" Tamaki said, his voice oddly calm. His eyes were glowing, whether with anger or with frustration, Haruhi couldn't tell. "How can you make decisions like that without asking /me/?" Kyouya was frozen, unmoving, eyes wide behind glasses as he stared at Tamaki. "You... you are so selfish!"
"I'm not," Kyouya shook his head slowly. "It's... It's just logical/, Tamaki, and it's for /your sake, your own good. Can't you see that? How can you say that I am /selfish/?!"
"Because you're afraid, aren't you?" Tamaki asked, and Haruhi couldn't see any of his usual dramatics and flamboyance now. He was calm, deathly serious, and the sight was so very strange to her. "You're afraid that I will push you away, because I love Haruhi now, so you decide to turn your back on me first."
Kyouya was still shaking his head, hands coming to rest on Tamaki's, weakly trying to pry the other boy's fingers from his clothes. "No, I just-" he stopped, exhaling explosively through his mouth. "You know our families won't approve of something like this, Tamaki. Be /logical/. It's better - for me, for you, for Haruhi - that I remain as your best friend and, nothing-"
"Bullshit," Tamaki spat out, cutting him off. "Kyouya, look at me," he raised a hand, pulling Kyouya's face towards his gently. "I told Haruhi this, and I'll say it again: I'm Tamaki before I'm a Suoh, Kyouya, and you are Kyouya before you're an Ohtori. We aren't just our family names, just like you're not just the Ohtori third son. We are ourselves, first and foremost. You know that, right?" his voice had softened to his normal volume, but his gaze, fixed on Kyouya's face, turned even sharper, even more demanding. His grip on the shorter boy's chin was strong enough to leave a bruise.
Kyouya's eyes seemed to be fixed on a spot on the wall, away from Tamaki's face. "That has nothing to do with this, Tamaki. Our reputation, our families' reputations will be ruined, do you want that?"
"I don't care," Tamaki said, tone fierce. "I don't care about our reputations, Kyouya. I'd rather be disinherited if it means that I'll be able to be happy with you. I don't want to be the Suoh heir if it means that I'll be miserable and alone. I would rather be a commoner. You feel the same, don't you?" It wasn't a question.
Kyouya sighed, a soft, shaky exhale of air, and lifted his eyes to meet Tamaki's. "Yes, you're right. You're always right when it comes to matters like this," he bent his head, looking away to stare at the dark wood floor. He smirked again, once more the Kyouya-senpai that Haruhi was familiar with, "I admit that I'm wrong, this time," he lifted an eyebrow.
Tamaki smiled crookedly, "You're forgiven." He sighed, "I guess that it's my turn for apologies, right? Will you forgive me?" Haruhi blinked when he turned towards her, "Both of you?"
"What?" she asked, feeling confused. Kyouya didn't speak, but she could see the puzzlement in his eyes when she glanced in his direction.
"I'm selfish," Tamaki confessed, running a hand through his hair and turning away. "I... I love both of you, you see, and I don't want to choose between the two of you. I don't want to give either of you up. I love you /both/, and..."
Haruhi found herself smiling again (this seemed to happen quite frequently around Tamaki), and stepped forward, grabbing one of Tamaki's hands. He blinked, and Kyouya, standing beside him, tilted his head towards her and she could see the confusion growing in his eyes.
"Who says that you have to choose?" she looked towards them both, and her smile widened at their bewilderment. "I told you before, Tamaki-senpai. If Kyouya-senpai doesn't mind, I'm willing to share." Her smile turned wry at the thought. "We probably need both of us to be able to deal with you anyway."
Kyouya laughed, softly chuckling even as Tamaki's guilty frown melted into a sulky pout. Shaking his head, he took the blond's other hand, squeezing it slightly. "I don't mind," he said, a small smile on his face. It was such a gentle expression that it took Haruhi's breath away. "Haruhi is right. I don't think having just one keeper enough is for you, Tamaki. It's always better to play safe."
"Hey!" Tamaki protested, but Haruhi knew that he didn't mean it. That was obvious from the wide, more-than-slightly smug smile he had. Kyouya ignored him, probably because he was already used to Tamaki's lightning-fast mood changes.
"It's a good thing that we're not possessive people, no?" Haruhi deadpanned just before Tamaki pulled them both closer. "Oof!"
"Sharing is caring," Kyouya quoted dryly, voice muffled due to his face being half-buried in Tamaki's shoulder.
"You two aren't, I /am/," Tamaki corrected, pulling them impossibly closer. But Haruhi found that she could still breathe, so this was alright. "You're /mine/, both of you," he leaned down, pressing hard, close-mouthed kisses on their lips. His hands tightened around their waists, blunt fingernails digging into her skin through two layers of cloth.
A week ago, Haruhi would have been indignant, perhaps even angry, about the remark. But now, with the boy (for Tamaki was still not a man) she reluctantly loved so close and the boy she respected and could maybe learn to love beside him, she found that she didn't mind. Rather, she realized that she enjoyed the tight embrace and the kiss. It was very strange.
She caught Kyouya's eyes and saw his smile as he leaned towards Tamaki. /Stop thinking/, those dark eyes told her, and she obeyed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling their very different scents. Tamaki smelled of the roses he was so fond of, those dark red ones that were said to represent 'passionate love' (she had to do a project on the English Victorian era once). Kyouya, however, smelled of tea, the high-grade white that was probably one of his very few vices, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
They smelled like the /rich/, she thought, sardonic and amused, as Tamaki kissed the top of her head and Kyouya's hands found hers. But she had come to accept this about them, just as she had grudgingly accepted her status as a 'commoner' in their eyes. These facts were simply the things she had gotten used to.
'/This feels right./' She interlocked her fingers with Kyouya's, and gave him a small smile before burrowing further into Tamaki's body /'No, this feels perfect./'