Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC or any of the characters.

Rating/Warning: M for yaoi/slash with a rather rough lemon. If you don't like that, this fic is not for you! =)

Author's Note: Thought I would write up a fic about a yaoi pairing I just couldn't get out of my head, and Valentine's Day seemed like a good theme, so here it is! This is my first attempt at a yaoi or slash pairing, so please be kind! =)

My Category Is...

Kyoya Ohtori lived a very regulated life, neatly divided into black and white, with everything perfectly categorized and easily referenced. It was ordered to the smallest detail, with nothing out of place. He worked hard, and he slept hard when he could sleep, and everything kept moving like clockwork, with the appearance of perfect regularity.

Kyoya Ohtori was not, himself, so easily categorized. The only category he wished to fit was that of 'worthy successor' to his father, or possibly, 'third son with merit'. But these were not the only categories into which he fell. Sometimes, he could not assign only one category to himself, and sometimes, the categories were contradictory. Straight. Gay. Or something in-between? What did that mean, exactly?

Sometimes, the categories clashed. There were some things, a great many things, that did not match the category of 'perfect son'. 'Gay', or 'in-between', for example, were some of these.

Finding one's male best friend intriguing was not, definitely not, allowed.

What am I? What is a 'perfect son'?

He knew he couldn't live with being forced into the category of 'worthless third son'. There were other categories that hovered at the periphery, the existence of which he often refused to acknowledge, in which he also could not bear to be placed. 'Unloved by Tamaki Suoh' was one such category.

Everything kept moving forward. But under it all, at the center of Kyoya Ohtori, was a voice that questioned how long it could continue before everything fell apart.


That day came in the final weeks of his second year as a high school student, with the advent of Valentine's Day. It was bad enough that he had to watch as girl after girl presented Tamaki with chocolates of every shape, size, and expense. While he was also the recipient of such gifts, it drove him to distraction to have to watch this irritating display when it was performed upon Tamaki. It was bad enough that he wanted Tamaki so badly, and would never be able to have him. But what made matters far, far worse was the manner in which the blond proceeded to fawn over Haruhi Fujioka unrelentingly, actually stooping to begging her for chocolate.

"Did you bring chocolates for Daddy, Haruhi?" Tamaki had simpered over and over again in varying states of disgrace, oblivious to the fact that Kyoya's blood was practically curdling in his veins, so great was his irritation.

Needless to say, he kept his feelings flawlessly concealed from the customers that day. Valentine's Day was one of their greatest sources of revenue, after all.

But that boiling anger couldn't remain hidden beneath the surface for long.

Haruhi Fujioka reached for the double doors of Music Room 3 on February the fifteenth, the day after Valentine's Day, stopping short as she noticed a hastily scrawled sign taped up in front of her.

'Host Club closed for the day. Our deepest apologies to our guests.'

Haruhi almost turned around and walked away. If the club was closed for the day, it meant she had a day off from their ridiculous shenanigans, something that was badly needed after the horrendous droves of chocolate-bearing girls the previous day had conjured. Something about the note, though, was off-putting; it was written in Tamaki's scrawl, but hastily, as if in panic. Had there been some emergency?

Her hand found the door's handle once more, and just as she turned it, a crash of something breaking reached her ears, accompanied by a voice she had heard often but barely recognized, for she had heard it most often speaking calmly or giving orders, occasionally snapping in irritation or whispering in a scheming way, but never shouting as it was now. She pushed the door open.

"I can't take it anymore, Tamaki! Your ridiculous plans, your gross expenditures, and all that 'Mother' crap of yours! 'Mother, Mother, Mother! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!' What am I to you, Tamaki?" Kyoya raged as he shoved over another table, the tea service it held shattering to pieces on the floor.

The room contained a number of other similarly broken objects, Haruhi saw. She also saw that the other members of the host club were hunkered behind a sofa, Mori holding onto Honey as the smaller boy's eyes brimmed with tears, the twins on their knees on the sofa peering over the back with wide eyes.

"Kyoya, please…" Tamaki pleaded helplessly. "What's brought this on?"

"It's you, Tamaki! You and your stupid… pointless… club!" Kyoya cried, kicking a table that held a vase that probably cost more than Haruhi's entire apartment building. The vase joined the other shattered objects strewn about the floor.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki flinched as though he'd been struck, tears threatening to fall. "You can't mean that!"

"I do mean it! I hate you, Tamaki!"

"That's enough!" Haruhi shouted, bringing the scene to a grinding halt. She saw Kyoya readying another round of vitriol as Tamaki turned to her and undoubtedly prepared to say something stupid.

"The rest of you, out," she commanded the other four. "Whatever is happening here doesn't need an audience."

Mori led Honey out without question, and the twins followed closely behind after a stern look from Haruhi stifled their protests.

"Whatever the hell this is about, you settle it, now!" she barked, glaring at Tamaki and Kyoya before storming out after the other club members and slamming the door.

"Haruhi… is angry at Daddy for fighting with Mother?" Tamaki whimpered, bolting for the corner to sit and stew in his misery. His flight was arrested suddenly as Kyoya seized the front of his uniform jacket and slammed him against the wall.

"Don't… you… dare…" the dark-haired man growled, his gaze piercing as an evil aura seemed to radiate from him.

"Kyoya…" Tamaki gasped, breathless from the impact.

"What am I to you, Tamaki? What is she to you…?" Kyoya hissed darkly. "Is it 'love' that you feel for her?"

"Kyoya, you're not talking sense! You're my best friend, you know that! And of course I love Haruhi, as any father would love his daughter- !" Tamaki was cut off abruptly as Kyoya slapped him.

"She isn't your daughter, Tamaki!" Kyoya snapped. "And there are times when I seriously question whether I am your best friend, with all the things you say and do that hurt me!"

"I've… I've been hurting you, Kyoya?" Tamaki stammered, his innocent eyes wide with shock.

Kyoya slumped against him, his face buried in Tamaki's shoulder, and the blond boy thought for a moment that Kyoya might be crying. Then he felt something moist on his neck, not tears, but Kyoya's lips, soft and warm as they caressed his skin. Tamaki was stunned speechless as Kyoya slid down his body, dropping to his knees in front of him. The dark-haired boy worked Tamaki's belt loose and unzipped his pants, pulling them down to his knees with his underwear.

Tamaki was completely flaccid, but Kyoya took him into his mouth, licking and sucking gently at first but with increasing enthusiasm as he felt Tamaki's member hardening to press against the back of his throat. Tamaki was tugging at his hair in a half-hearted attempt to stop him, gasping in confused pleasure as his efforts grew weaker and finally stopped altogether with Kyoya's continued ministrations.

"Nn… Kyoya…" Tamaki moaned softly, his eyes falling closed as he began to enjoy Kyoya's hot mouth on his erection, though he wasn't certain where this was going, or why Kyoya was doing this so suddenly. Truthfully, he was worried for Kyoya…

The sound made something inside of Kyoya break, the last thread of his already slipping control lost completely. He gripped Tamaki's jacket and pulled him to the ground, tearing the front of his shirt open and sending buttons flying. He yanked Tamaki's pants completely off, throwing his shoes aside impatiently when they obstructed his efforts. His own glasses, when they hindered him by sliding down his nose, were sent clattering to the floor.

Tamaki's breathing hitched as Kyoya unbuttoned his own shirt, leaving the garment hanging open to reveal his lean torso and the faint, narrow trail of dark hair that descended from below his navel to vanish under the waistband of his pants, its path revealed to Tamaki as Kyoya unfastened his trousers and dropped them to his knees. Tamaki's eyes widened again as Kyoya's erect member came into view; his heart was pounding and his body was nearly shaking, and strangely, he couldn't tell if it was from fear or anticipation or some combination of both.

He watched as Kyoya spat in his own hand and slicked his cock. It was quite possibly the lewdest thing Tamaki had ever seen, and that it was Kyoya doing such a thing… Tamaki blushed deeply as Kyoya settled over him, his mouth going dry as he felt the other man's hardness pressing against his entrance. The spit wouldn't be enough, Tamaki knew; this was going to hurt, and he closed his eyes tightly and gripped Kyoya's sleeves as the pressure increased.

Tamaki couldn't stifle a cry as Kyoya's dick began to penetrate him; it was painful, incredibly so, and that hard, throbbing length seemed endless as it continued to push inside. As Kyoya moved deeper into him, sliding through that place of searing pain, the movement began to feel more lubricated, and Tamaki suddenly understood that Kyoya had made him bleed. It didn't feel like much, and though it certainly hurt, it seemed to make things go a little easier, and Tamaki let himself relax slightly. His relaxation made things go much easier, and he focused on not tensing up as Kyoya began to move in and out of him.

Soon, as Kyoya's thrusts repeatedly grazed a sensitive place inside of him and with the added lubrication of Kyoya's arousal, Tamaki actually began to enjoy it. A pleasurable sensation was building in him and a wanton moan escaped his lips, and this seemed to spur Kyoya on in a frenzy. He thrust harder, and his hand suddenly gripped Tamaki's erection and began to pump it a bit roughly. Through whatever pain Tamaki felt, there was also pleasure, and it was growing so intense that Tamaki felt he might unravel completely at any moment. Kyoya's soft grunts in his ear told him that the dark-haired man was not going to last much longer either.

"Kyoya…!" he moaned sharply, and Kyoya groaned through gritted teeth, sending a thrust hard and deep as he tensed and shattered. He kept thrusting with each pulse as he came, stroking over Tamaki's most sensitive spot inside as he pumped Tamaki's aching cock in his hand until Tamaki arched against him with a cry, spilling his own release over Kyoya's fingers.

Kyoya slumped on top of Tamaki, his breathing hoarse and ragged in Tamaki's ears. The blond man found that he couldn't move, both from Kyoya's weight on him and because he felt drained and somewhat boneless from his climax, and he didn't really want to move from beneath Kyoya's warm, heavy body anyway. His eyes widened as he realized he wasn't a virgin any longer. Had he ever imagined it would happen like this?

He thought he just might have.

"If you need medical attention, I can see that it's taken care of," Kyoya murmured quietly after a long silence, lowering his forehead to Tamaki's shoulder. The dark-haired man trembled, his breath hitching, and Tamaki realized with a shock that Kyoya was crying.

"What's this?" he asked, his voice gentle. "No, no, no… Kyoya doesn't cry. What's the matter, Kyoya?"

"I've hurt you… I've done something disgusting," he whispered harshly.

"What? You think I'm disgusting? That does hurt me, Kyoya!" Tamaki cried out.

"What? No… I mean…I forced myself on you, and that's disgusting," Kyoya growled angrily. "Of course I don't think you're disgusting, you idiot."

"Ah, that's better," Tamaki said, smiling up at the ceiling as he folded his long arms around Kyoya's shoulders. "That's what the Shadow King of the Host Club should sound like, angry and vengeful! But… Kyoya… I've wanted you to do this for a long time. I always knew it would hurt. You didn't force me, you were just forceful. There's a difference, you know."

Kyoya pushed back from Tamaki and looked at him, though without glasses, Tamaki was a blond-haired blur.

"But… I thought you were in love with Haruhi…"

"What? Why would you think that?" Tamaki asked innocently.

"Because of all this 'daughter' crap, obviously!" Kyoya snapped. "That's why I was so angry with you, the way you kept pestering her for chocolates yesterday…"

"A daughter should give her father chocolates on Valentine's Day!" Tamaki declared insensibly. "Anyway, why would I call her my daughter if I was in love with her? I could have called her 'mother' instead, and you could have been 'uncle' or 'eldest son', or even 'grandpa'!"

"Don't be stupid, Tamaki. I'm not old enough to be 'grandpa'," Kyoya growled, looking around for his glasses, unable to see them on the floor. "Why 'daughter', then?"

"Well, how else am I ever supposed to have a daughter with you, Kyoya?" Tamaki said, smiling as he reached for the glasses and put them in Kyoya's hand. "You're the only person who can be Mother in the Host Club family, you know. I love you, Kyoya."

The dark-haired man stared at the glasses in his hand and then at Tamaki, a look of surprise on his face.

"You… love me?"

"Obviously, Kyoya."

"You're… in love… with me?"

"Yes, Kyoya," Tamaki said, smiling up at him. "Honestly, as intelligent as you are, it's taking forever for you to catch on."

Kyoya said nothing, but leaned down and pressed his lips to Tamaki's. They kissed softly and slowly, and Tamaki moaned as Kyoya slipped his tongue into Tamaki's mouth.

"Hmm, that's French, Kyoya. How did you know about it?" Tamaki asked curiously when they parted.

"Idiot. Everyone knows about that," Kyoya replied with a smirk.

"I see. Once I've healed up, you'll have to show me what else you know about," Tamaki said, and Kyoya's lips fell to his again.


Outside the door, the remaining members of the Host Club sat in stunned silence.

"I can't believe we just overheard all of that," Haruhi murmured at last. "I can't believe Kyoya thought Tamaki did all that 'Daddy' stuff because he was in love with me, when it's really just because he's stupid."

"I heard it… I heard it…" Honey whimpered in distress.

"It'll be alright, Mitsukuni," Mori said comfortingly, though he, too, looked profoundly disturbed. "We'll leave this place and go have some cake, and everything will be alright."

"We saw it… We saw it…" the twins chanted despondently, slumped against the door where they'd taken turns spying unwisely through the keyhole. "Mommies shouldn't do that to Daddies!"

"Well, that's what you get for spying," Haruhi replied, each of her wrists clutched in one of the twins' hands. Of course, she had wanted to leave, but they hadn't let her. Seeing it all served them right, in her opinion. Stupid twins…


The next day, the Ouran High School Host Club was open for business as usual. The mess from the day before had been cleaned up as though nothing had happened. The only noticeable difference was that Tamaki would glance up and smile at Kyoya often, and Kyoya would smile back.

"I'm glad you two worked out whatever that was yesterday," Haruhi said as they were closing up for the evening. "What brought all that on, anyway?"

"Your darling Mother was simply chafing with unhappiness over his station in life, that's all," Tamaki replied. "But worry not, my dear Haruhi! That matter had been taken care of."

"Yes, and 'Daddy' is paying for the damages, since it was brought on by his idiocy in the first place," Kyoya added, his eyes gleaming in financial satisfaction behind his glasses.

"Good," she said, glancing up at both of them with a sly smile as she turned to leave. "The kids don't like it when Mommy and Daddy fight, you know."

Tamaki beamed happily as the departing Haruhi finally acknowledged her Host Club parentage, but when he felt Kyoya slip his hand into his own, he turned to the dark-haired man and smiled just for him. To Kyoya, that smile was worth far more than financial compensation. A spark of warm happiness shot through him as a peculiar realization bloomed in his thoughts.

Ah, I see. My category is… 'Mother'. How very interesting.

At the center of the person called Kyoya Ohtori, a voice whispered that everything was going to work out for the best.

A/N: So there it is... my first ever yaoi/slash fic. Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, please review! Happy Valentine's Day! =D