raspberryturk | Room 501, Friday Afternoon

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Room 501, Friday Afternoon

Reno was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a stack of photocopied papers spread out on the sheets in front of him. He was ignoring his laundry, which probably ought to get done before his roomie could notice the red streaks across the back of one of his white shirts. And he was ignoring his report to Tseng, which he usually ignored anyhow until the very last minute or whenever the angry e-mails started to pour in. And he was focusing entirely on making stupid sounds without sounding too stupid.

"Oui pnayg so ... hekrd. Ed ec lumt eh dra dnaac?"

...

"Drec ec lnywo. Cdnyhka. Pydrnuus nupud lyhto bahkiehc."

Reno sounded like an idiot and he hated everything.

[That Reno is making stupid sounds is totally fine to mention on radio, that the stupid sounds are Al Bhed is totally NFB, please. <3 I leave for work in 20 minutes. Am available for slowplay much later tonight though, if you really want to have strange words thrown at you.]

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The grin, although extremely wide already, seemed to get only wider.

"Magnifique!" he cried, throwing his arms into the air with excitement. "I knew it, I knew it! Ahahaha!"

Happily laughing to himself, he danced around the room in circles. He now felt he had been right about wanting Reno to join the Host Club! The man seemed to have a romantic streak! Triumph!

"Would you stop makin' an ass of yourself, Tamaki?!" Reno was on his feet now, papers scattering everywhere. "I'm just- It's not even- ... Dammit!"

Reno was doomed.

Tamaki paused in his happy victory dance only long enough to grin smugly at Reno, his eyes twinkling with mischievous glee.

...

Reno. Was backing. Away.

Slowly.

Any sudden moves, and he knew he was doomed.

He swung around to face his roommate, looking much more devilish than was normal or safe. "Reno, my friend," he crowed, a laugh bubbling its way up from deep in his throat, "What type of host shall you be?!"

Tamaki had gone insane. Someone had drugged him or tossed him in a mako reactor or beat him upside the head too many times and he'd totally cracked. That had to be it. It was the only explanation.

...

"Host? Wha?"

"You do remember our conversation last week, don't you?" Tamaki asked with a smile. "We said we'd talk later, and it's later now!"

Theatrically, he thrust an arm in Reno's direction, index finger extended. "Your interview has begun! What are your best qualities? What makes you unique?"

Stare. Stare. Blink. Blink.

He'd been studying Al Bhed a moment ago. He hadn't exactly been expecting a pop quiz in Crazy.

"I'm versatile," he attempted, raising an eyebrow. "And adaptable? I'll get things done when they gotta get done."

...

"But I'm not a subservient twit, either, yo."

"And you wear a suit," Tamaki declared happily. Sure, it was slightly unkempt, but it was still a suit. As far as he knew, ladies dug suits. Lots. Take his stylish, handsome school uniform, for example.

"Ah, but you deny the feelings of love in your heart," he cried, his thoughts turning back to Reno's romantic learning of language.

"I'm not in love with Rikku!!" Reno bent over and started to furiously gather the sheets of paper scattered around his feet. "It's not like- It!"

...

"I don't know what it is, okay!?"

"Aha," Tamaki said, a knowing smile creeping across his lips. "You, my friend, are rebelling against your own heart!" Suddenly, his face brightened as an idea dawned on him.

"You're a Rebel Type," he shouted, once again pointing a dramatic finger at Reno. "A Rebel Type!!" Tamaki could not contain his satisfaction. In fact, he began laughing merrily and resumed dancing happily-yet-still-gracefully about the dorm room.

"Yeah, Tamaki. That's great." Reno rolled his eyes and tossed the papers back onto his bed.

"You'll have to excuse me for not dancin' with you, yoto."

Insane. They'd roomed him with the insane kid. And hadn't even given him proper equipment for this. There should have been more padding on the walls, and maybe a sedative nearby, and there wasn't. Damn them.

Tamaki absolutely was not listening. Instead, he rambled on happily. "I'll be expecting you at the next meeting, Rebel Type," he grinned, then paused, deciding to add on something that he hoped Reno would relate to better. "...Yoto!"

Yes! He spoke Reno's language! He was very, very pleased. Perhaps his roomie would take this as a gesture of friendship!

Reno was going to stare some more.

"Maybe just stick to 'yo,' Tamaki."

Rikku sounded better than the both of them when she said 'yoto,' after all.

...

DAMMIT.

"Yo," Tamaki repeated experimentally, "Yo! Yo! Haha!"

He thought he sounded pretty darn cool.

This was met with an eyeroll.

"You're a yo-yo alright." He looked at Tamaki, eyebrow raised. "So, what does a host DO, anyhow?"

Tamaki spun on his heel and bowed with a flourish, smiling up at Reno. "A host donates his time to entertain young ladies, who also have time, and make them feel like princesses. We make their dreams come true in a safe and lovely environment. There is nothing impure about a host's intentions, we simply sit with our designations and tell them what they want to hear."

He winked.

"So, you tell 'em what they want to hear, true or not, and the lyin' to 'em is somehow... not impure?"

Reno didn't follow.

"I hardly see how giving them a real life daydream is a lie," Tamaki replied, somewhat indignantly.

Reno deadpanned at Tamaki.

"If it's a daydream, it's not real, right? Nothin's ever gonna come of the words I say to these girls?"

"Of course not," Tamaki said. "You are just putting a smile on the face of a young lady by giving her some of your precious time."

He smiled, fondly thinking of his times at Ouran Academy. The Host Club was his passion, and he was very excited to be beginning one at Fandom.

... So it was a lie?

Reno still didn't really follow, but whatever.

"Okay. So essentially I'm bein' pimped out for company."

Tamaki would not have necessarily put it that way. In fact, Reno's way of paraphrasing sort of frightened him.

"S-something like that?"

"The girls are payin' money for this?"

This was an important question.

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Room 501, Friday Afternoon

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