Telepathy

An Ouran High School Host Club Original Fanfic

Summary: There are farther places he has strayed to - and there are times when he's been dead certain that he won't find his way back. But whenever the time comes, he can always come back to find the younger in the exact place where he left him - and that place will always and forever be right by his side.

Disclaimer/Author's Note: Hi again! Electrical Angel here, back with another Ouran fic. And lemme just say that this fic was supposed to be entirely smut, but because plot bunnies are running around in my mind it turned into a 1900-word monster. In any case, read on! And remember to review! For the lawyers, characters aren't mine.


It really does figure that the worst day of his entire life is the same day he's forced to walk home in the pouring rain.

It's five miles in all – that long, winding maze of side streets and alleyways, the one that by now, after all these years, he knows he could walk blindfolded. Five miles, trudging through mud and splashing through puddles without so much as an umbrella.

This really would happen today of all days.

He cuts down another alley, ignoring the wet strands of hair that fall into his face, cursing as he goes. It wasn't enough that today had to be the worst day of all possible days – it wasn't enough that either poetry or irony had gotten the notion to go and make it rain.

It wasn't enough seeing her with him – wasn't enough watching their fingers tangle together helplessly, watching him drop kisses onto her forehead that didn't belong there – wasn't enough seeing the smile that lit up her face when he did.

If it had been all that alone, maybe he wouldn't be so angry right now. Maybe he wouldn't feel so broken and confused; maybe he wouldn't feel like ripping apart the next thing that moves. But no. It really did have to go and rain.

Not to mention the fact that his good-for-nothing brother is of absolutely no help whatsoever.

"Hey, Kaoru," Hikaru flips open his phone, the sound of a muffled yawn coming from the other end. It's already dark out despite being only early evening, and the sound of thunder rolls overhead.

"Hikaru?" the younger mutters, his voice thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Five, idiot," Hikaru rolls his eyes, frustrated. "Look, it's raining over here. Can you send a driver to come and pick me up?"

Lightning flashes in his peripheral vision; he looks up. A raindrop falls onto his eye, and he winces as he steals out of the alley and out into the open.

Why today? his mind rages. Of all days, why did it have to be today?

"There aren't any," Kaoru replies matter-of-factly. Hikaru gets an overwhelming urge to hit him. "It's a Saturday, and Mother has a hair appointment…I thought you knew that?"

Ugh, right. The appointment. Damn.

"So you come and get me," he replies, annoyed.

"What? Are you – no!" Kaoru's voice is indignant.

"And why not?" Considering you skipped today anyway.

"I won't even get my drivers' license for another three months. We share a birthday, Hikaru." Deadpan now.

"Oh. Crap." Hikaru sighs. "Well, I only have another mile to go anyway. But call Mom and tell her we need to have a serious talk about priorities."

"Okay, will do." The younger pauses. "Is…something wrong, Hikaru?"

Hikaru stops walking for a moment, hovering just on the edge of telling the truth. In that moment, he almost wants to tell Kaoru that yeah, something is wrong, and my day was horrible, because I think I might be in love with a girl who'll never love me back.

He almost wants to tell him everything – because no one has ever been there for him like Kaoru has, right? They're close; more than just close. Sometimes it's like they're the same person.

But this…this is just something that Kaoru will never understand. That no one will ever understand.

"Everything's fine," he replies shortly, and promptly hangs up.

He spends the next hour or so walking along in the rain. It's not outright pouring anymore, but the air is damp and his hair is plastered to his head, and Hikaru can't help but think that his mother would throw a fit if she were to see him like this.

Not that it would matter, of course. Even if she did say something, he would probably ignore her, and instead just go get Kaoru to make him soup or something. Yeah, Kaoru would probably do that. That's the way it always is – just the Hitachiin twins, all alone really, except that they're always together.

That, and it really didn't feel so wrong back when there was no one else – even before Haruhi, before there was anyone outside of their world – didn't that just mean that all he needed by his side was Kaoru, and that they were always happiest with each other?

Shaking his head like a dog to rid himself of that last thought, Hikaru shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and keeps walking.

He doesn't make it home for a few hours.

He does eventually get there – after being chased down the block by two dogs and one particularly angry pigeon – and when he does, he finds that he can barely make it up the front steps, his legs are so worn out. The weight of the world seems to be crashing down on him, and all he wants to do right now is rest; go to sleep, and forget the world he lives in.

Fate has other ideas.

He's barely made it through the door when he's met by the soft but pressing subtlety of another pair of lips moving against his own. The shock of it almost sends him toppling backward, were it not for the fact that whoever owns them is pressing him against the door frame, thin, delicate fingers knotting into his hair, hard, lean body pressing against his own.

"Mmph," his noise of protest comes out muffled, and although it's dark in here and he can't see a thing right now, he knows exactly who it is that's doing this to him – really, it's hard to forget the curve of that jawline, the lips and teeth, that tongue – hard to forget that lean frame, exactly proportional and identical in every way to his own –

A pulse of electricity flows through him when he feels that ever-familiar hardness pressing against his thigh, and Hikaru snaps.

"Kaoru," he turns away, already breathing heavily, "stop."

In the dark, Hikaru can just barely make out the face of his younger brother, lower lip jutted out in a pout, dark eyes teasing. There's a tense moment of silence before Hikaru realizes he's gripping the younger's wrist hard enough to draw blood with his fingernails, and he releases him abruptly, sickened.

They both stare down at the small indentations in the pale forearm – small half-moons where blood seeps out and onto the floor, beading on skin in the dark.

"Uh-huh," Kaoru says after a moment, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah, right."

And slowly, deliberately, he kisses him again.

Hikaru doesn't know what exactly shorts out in his brain when Kaoru's lips touch his – all he knows is that this shouldn't be happening, this absolutely should not be happening, but his thoughts don't exactly mirror his actions when his hands grip Kaoru's waist for support, when the two of them stumble down the hall and into the bedroom they share together, collapsing on the bed as he feels Kaoru's mouth at his ear, flicking his tongue at the earlobe in the way he knows Hikaru likes.

Haruhi, the thought is distant at the back of his mind when Kaoru kisses him again, harder this time.

But his mind goes completely blank with the delicious friction that comes when their hips grind together clumsily, messily, and he's almost sent over the edge when Kaoru strips him of his clothes, and he feels his arousal being taken inside the warm, moist cavern of his brother's mouth.

The dull, blunt feeling of Kaoru's teeth – the way his tongue slides around his length – these things and more are terribly familiar, and that's what makes it so wrong, is that they just shouldn't be.

But when he looks at Kaoru, just moments after he comes, both of them breathing heavily and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, that's something he forgets.

"I thought you didn't want to?" Kaoru says breathily, teasingly, when Hikaru flips them, crawling on top of them and melding their bodies together as he pins the younger's arms above his head with one hand, the other coming down to roll a hard nipple between the thumb and forefinger, eliciting a soft moan.

"Don't be stupid." Hikaru interrupts this thought by sliding a well-lubed finger into the younger boy, timing the moans correctly, knowing when to slide in the second, followed by the third.

They've been doing this for far too long to know of anything else – and Hikaru knows exactly what he needs to do for Kaoru to make him moan like that, what exactly Kaoru needs to do to for him. Hikaru knows Kaoru like he knows the back of his hand, knows his likes and dislikes – knows more about him than he knows about himself.

It's more than that. It's because they're a part of one another. It's telepathy.

But this thought hurts – it hurts for so many reasons, but mostly because Hikaru has always known that he loved Kaoru the most. And now, for the first time in his life, he doesn't. That's something that he wishes he could get back – something too precious to lose.

With this last thought, Hikaru removes the last finger, and pushes himself inside.

He will never be able to describe what it's like, the sensation of rocking his hips against Kaoru's like this, the mirrored sound of their shallow breathing, the way Kaoru's hands come up to tangle in his hair and his legs wrap around his waist. But maybe, if they're always together like this, he won't have to. Maybe, if this will last, Kaoru can do that for him.

Maybe.

After it's over, and both of them are lying side by side on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, Kaoru rolls over on his side and reaches up to brush the hair out of Hikaru's eyes. They're the eyes of someone who's sad, someone who's broken, but he still manages to feel it as Kaoru pulls him into his arms.

"Kaoru," he mutters against the younger boy's chest, eyes downcast. "Stop it, I don't need babying."

"You can baby me back later," Kaoru hushes, tucking Hikaru's head under his chin and pressing his own cheek against his hair. "I'll probably be needing it at some point."

Hikaru chuckles, partly because it's true, and partly because he could really use a laugh right now. And that's another thing that Kaoru knows about him. Kaoru knows that he needs this – and Kaoru will be here for him, even if Hikaru can't be.

He mumbles something a while later, right before a haze of sleep overcomes him and he begins to fade away. At least, he thinks he says it. It could be just his imagination; what he wants to say, but can't.

I love you.

Because when it came to Kaoru, who even cared what was socially accepted and what was frowned upon? Who cared what was right, and what was wrong? Between the two of them, it never mattered; there was always just an unspoken connection, and words didn't need to be said. They just knew.

It's a few moments before Kaoru replies.

"Love you too."

But Hikaru's already gone, the words nothing but a distant voice as he floats into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.


I am incredibly sorry that I can no longer write properly.

Please don't forget to review!

-Electrical Angel