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person4Title: A Traditional Dance
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Characters: All hosts
Notes: For June fic-a-day. See if you can spot the 80's cartoon reference (though it's used in a very different tone from the cartoon)!
Haruhi had realized as soon as the theme was announced that it wouldn't go well. She had seen the rich idiots' ideas of cross-dressing before, after all. It was hard to believe that people who'd managed to pick out perfectly fine clothing for her when they wanted to stick her into a dress failed so badly at doing the same for themselves, but then the makeup was far and away the worst part and she always stopped them before they could put too much on her.
It did turn out to be a good thing when it came to her paying back her debt. With the other hosts looking like they'd fallen face-first into a table covered in clown paint, girls who usually had a preference for one of the others instead chose to spend their afternoon with the only tastefully made-up member of the club. And even Haruhi's make-up wasn't entirely nice; Kyouya had taken one look at her before producing a tube of ugly coral lipstick to replace the gloss she was wearing with a comment that someone might be suspicious if it was too clear that she knew what she was doing compared to the others.
It was ironic that she really had very little idea of how to make herself up nicely; she had shown her father the outfit they expected her to wear the night before and asked him to decide what she should do with it.
Haruhi felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when Tamaki suddenly stood up and drew all of the attention in the room towards himself. It only grew when she saw the twins standing at either side behind him, grinning their best cheshire cat grins. And she knew that she was right to feel that way when he called out in a chirping falsetto voice, "Excuuuuuse me, Princesses! For today's event, we've decided to lead you all in a traditional dance performed by transvestite peasants! Don't be afraid to join in just because you don't know the dance, it's main charm point is in it's wonderfully inelegant steps developed by poor transvestites who couldn't afford dancing lessons or choreographers but wanted to bring joy into their dreary lives!"
"Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi said, slowly edging up to him in the hopes that if she didn't make any obvious movements Tamaki wouldn't notice her and drag her into his nonsense. "Do you know what he's talking about this time?"
Kyouya glanced at her over the top of his ledger book. He looked out of place in the group that day; where all of the other costumes were bright and garish he had gone for the business professional look, the neatly-tailored suit and straight-cut wig just a few inches longer than his own hair that he wore hardly looking odd on him if it weren't for the miniskirt. He didn't look like a transvestite, he looked like a secretary. "Two nights ago Tamaki had a traditional transvestite movie night in preparation for this theme," was all he said by way of explanation.
She was going to try getting more information out of him, at least enough to find out what in the world Tamaki counted as traditional transvestite movies, when she felt someone tug at her sleeve. Looking down, Hunny was standing there looking up at her with teary eyes. Oh, she thought to herself, a pointed attack. Life had been a little bit simpler before someone in the group had realized that Hunny's 'charms' were the only ones she was at all weak to, so long as he was acting enough like a sad little boy to overwhelm her sure knowledge that he was even older than she was.
"Haru-chan~" he crooned at her, "aren't you going to come dance with us?"
His eyeliner and mascara were already beginning to run a tiny bit at the corners where tears were welling up, although it was difficult to tell since it had been thick enough to make him look racoonish to begin with, and Haruhi sighed. "All right," she agreed, knowing that trying to argue would ultimately be futile. "But don't think that I already know any traditional transvestite dances," she added when they got close to the others.
Tamaki took that as an excuse to grab her and swirl her around--not that he ever actually needed provocation--and deposit her directly behind her. "It's okay! Daddy knows you can do it; just watch what he does and you'll get it!"
He turned back to the girls assembled before them in a gossiping mass, all waiting to see what the king of the Host Club had planned this time, and flashed them a charming smile. "Are you ready, Princesses?" he asked, and at the chorus of agreements he gestured at Mori to push play on a CD player he was waiting beside. "All together~ It's just a jump to the left!"
Haruhi closed her eyes to keep from rolling them and whispered to herself, 'Transvestite movie night,' but when the time came she took a step to the right.
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Characters: All hosts
Notes: For June fic-a-day. See if you can spot the 80's cartoon reference (though it's used in a very different tone from the cartoon)!
Haruhi had realized as soon as the theme was announced that it wouldn't go well. She had seen the rich idiots' ideas of cross-dressing before, after all. It was hard to believe that people who'd managed to pick out perfectly fine clothing for her when they wanted to stick her into a dress failed so badly at doing the same for themselves, but then the makeup was far and away the worst part and she always stopped them before they could put too much on her.
It did turn out to be a good thing when it came to her paying back her debt. With the other hosts looking like they'd fallen face-first into a table covered in clown paint, girls who usually had a preference for one of the others instead chose to spend their afternoon with the only tastefully made-up member of the club. And even Haruhi's make-up wasn't entirely nice; Kyouya had taken one look at her before producing a tube of ugly coral lipstick to replace the gloss she was wearing with a comment that someone might be suspicious if it was too clear that she knew what she was doing compared to the others.
It was ironic that she really had very little idea of how to make herself up nicely; she had shown her father the outfit they expected her to wear the night before and asked him to decide what she should do with it.
Haruhi felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when Tamaki suddenly stood up and drew all of the attention in the room towards himself. It only grew when she saw the twins standing at either side behind him, grinning their best cheshire cat grins. And she knew that she was right to feel that way when he called out in a chirping falsetto voice, "Excuuuuuse me, Princesses! For today's event, we've decided to lead you all in a traditional dance performed by transvestite peasants! Don't be afraid to join in just because you don't know the dance, it's main charm point is in it's wonderfully inelegant steps developed by poor transvestites who couldn't afford dancing lessons or choreographers but wanted to bring joy into their dreary lives!"
"Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi said, slowly edging up to him in the hopes that if she didn't make any obvious movements Tamaki wouldn't notice her and drag her into his nonsense. "Do you know what he's talking about this time?"
Kyouya glanced at her over the top of his ledger book. He looked out of place in the group that day; where all of the other costumes were bright and garish he had gone for the business professional look, the neatly-tailored suit and straight-cut wig just a few inches longer than his own hair that he wore hardly looking odd on him if it weren't for the miniskirt. He didn't look like a transvestite, he looked like a secretary. "Two nights ago Tamaki had a traditional transvestite movie night in preparation for this theme," was all he said by way of explanation.
She was going to try getting more information out of him, at least enough to find out what in the world Tamaki counted as traditional transvestite movies, when she felt someone tug at her sleeve. Looking down, Hunny was standing there looking up at her with teary eyes. Oh, she thought to herself, a pointed attack. Life had been a little bit simpler before someone in the group had realized that Hunny's 'charms' were the only ones she was at all weak to, so long as he was acting enough like a sad little boy to overwhelm her sure knowledge that he was even older than she was.
"Haru-chan~" he crooned at her, "aren't you going to come dance with us?"
His eyeliner and mascara were already beginning to run a tiny bit at the corners where tears were welling up, although it was difficult to tell since it had been thick enough to make him look racoonish to begin with, and Haruhi sighed. "All right," she agreed, knowing that trying to argue would ultimately be futile. "But don't think that I already know any traditional transvestite dances," she added when they got close to the others.
Tamaki took that as an excuse to grab her and swirl her around--not that he ever actually needed provocation--and deposit her directly behind her. "It's okay! Daddy knows you can do it; just watch what he does and you'll get it!"
He turned back to the girls assembled before them in a gossiping mass, all waiting to see what the king of the Host Club had planned this time, and flashed them a charming smile. "Are you ready, Princesses?" he asked, and at the chorus of agreements he gestured at Mori to push play on a CD player he was waiting beside. "All together~ It's just a jump to the left!"
Haruhi closed her eyes to keep from rolling them and whispered to herself, 'Transvestite movie night,' but when the time came she took a step to the right.