Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4905955.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Ouran_High_School_Host_Club_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Fujioka_Haruhi/Ootori_Kyouya
  Additional Tags:
      Hurt/Comfort, repressed_feelings, First_makeouts, protective_Kyoya_for
      your_feels
  Series:
      Part 1 of Ouran_Daydreams_(KyoHaru)
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-09-30 Completed: 2015-10-01 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5449
****** Particularly Special ******
by lukeloops
Summary
     When a thunderstorm strikes one evening, Kyoya finds himself having
     to face the fact that he cares about Haruhi more than he probably
     should.
Notes
     My first fanfiction in six years! This started out as a one-shot and
     is now growing into a series oops
     Apologies for any formatting issues, I haven't really worked this
     site out yet. And I've seen various spellings for Japanese names/
     titles/etc, so I just go with what feels right to me.
     Hope you enjoy!
***** Chapter 1 *****
It was with innocently nonchalant curiosity that Kyoya Ootori had glanced up
from his screen at the ominous black clouds gathering in the tiring sky and
wondered if there was to be a storm tonight. The weather made no real
difference to one safely ensconced in a castle made of steel and glass and
concrete, with a top-of-the-range surround sound system at his disposal should
he wish to block out the noise.
And it was pure coincidence that the thought of the Host Club came to the front
of his mind as he rose from his desk chair to pull close the blinds. What was
the name of the suite Tamaki was rehearsing earlier, while Haruhi was trying in
vain to finish dusting the piano? It would make a good test for the new
speakers. As he stretched his slender frame and rubbed his eyes, Kyoya’s
thoughts drifted to Haruhi, flitting between the vacated tables and her play-
fighting fellow hosts to clean up earlier that day. It was only natural that he
had been observing her from behind his book as she worked; after all, he had to
ensure her efforts were thorough.
And of course, it was only natural to drop his glasses to the ground and clench
his fists as he realised that Haruhi was afraid of thunder and would be alone
tonight.
Kyoya had taken it upon himself to memorise Ranka’s work schedule. Even if the
glamorous bartender’s hours had been changed last-minute, it was Friday, and
bars were always busy on Friday nights. Ranka was popular with the regulars,
and often didn’t see his daughter for most of the weekend. This was perfectly
appropriate for him to know in his supervisory capacity over Haruhi- and so was
it for him to have installed a tracker in her mobile phone.
Therefore, when he was met with a robotic voicemail message after dialing her
number with an excuse ready about a missing teacup, Kyoya concluded it entirely
rational to re-open his laptop and pull up the GPS program he had designed
himself. There were a number of icons on the map before him, but he knew the
code for Haruhi’s without having to search the index and immediately zoomed in
on her location.
Kyoya often worked late into the night, sometimes early into the morning. If
not homework, he was researching new companies and their new innovations,
following trends in the stock market and managing his humble but promising
portfolio of shares and bonds, or drawing up budgets, contracts and detailed
reports with which to impress his Father. Occasionally, he would succumb
briefly to the loneliness of it all and open up the pixelated aerial view of
the apartment complex where Haruhi was asleep, her phone’s ID blinking softly
at him as he hovered his cursor over her location. Haruhi worked hard. She
worried. But without the weight of the Ootori name or billions of dollars
crushing her small shoulders, she slept. At night, at least, she was peaceful.
Some of that peace would filter out of the screen and settle in the air around
him.
And so, as a fork of lightning illuminated the dusky sky and the bright
whiteness of it seeped around the edges of the blinds, Kyoya knew he had to go
to her.
-
“Fujioka residence please”, Kyoya called to the driver as he slipped into the
backseat of the car.
Sakai, the driver, was approaching retirement age. He had no family left at
home and so worked the night shift. He glanced up at the young master in the
rear-view mirror, noting his concrete expression.
“It isn’t my place to comment, Master Ootori,” began Sakai as he reversed out
of the garage and turned onto the driveway, “but the young Miss Fujioka must be
particularly special to you, to warrant house-calls on such a night as this.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.” returned Kyoya flatly. Then a moment later he tensed,
sitting forward. “How did you find out that Fujioka is a girl?”
Sakai chuckled, activating the windscreen wipers as rain began to patter
against the glass. “My sister lives not far from the address I have in my
pager. She says there is only one child in the family, a first year at Ouran
High. Doesn’t take much to add two and two.”
Kyoya pushed his glasses up his nose, inwardly cursing the gossipy nature of
commoners. He would have to be more discrete next time. Next time.
Automatically expecting himself to call unannounced at Haruhi’s door again.
“If you must know”, he said calmly, although his tone clearly indicated that
the driver most definitely did not need to know, “Fujioka and I have business
to clear up that cannot wait until school on Monday, and it seemed an
unnecessary performance to have her brought to the Ootori residence when the
car would be dispatching from its destination.” With that, he settled back into
the leather of the backseat and stared out the window at the now almost fully
darkened sky. Kyoya’s hands were resting on the seat either side of him as
fists, fingernails making soft indents against his palms, and despite his blank
face, one of his legs was jiggling nervously.
Nothing more was said until Sakai pulled up outside the square apartment block.
“Would you like me to wait, young Master?”
“Thank you. No.” Kyoya was already scrambling out, before Sakai could exit the
vehicle to open the door for him.
He smiled to himself as he drove away. He had been young once, but he had been
better at it.
-
 
Logically, if Haruhi hadn’t answered her phone then she wouldn’t answer the
door. But Kyoya knocked several times before he admitted defeat and began to
scan his surroundings for a suitable place in which a spare key might be
hidden. Sure enough, one was taped to the underside of the doormat, as revealed
by a quick shake.
“Haruhi?” Kyoya called as he entered the apartment. It was quite obviously
empty. His heart began to pound in his chest. He felt for a light switch,
flicking it to show her mobile phone discarded on the table. So much for
technology being on his side.
 Kyoya quickly peered into the adjoining rooms, unsure what he was really
looking for. Then his eyes fell upon the small cupboard housing the memorial to
Kotoko Fujioka. For some reason, it immediately made sense that the place
Haruhi would go when she was alone was wherever her mother’s remains were laid
to rest.
This was something else that Kyoya just happened to know as a result of his
extensive background research. All protocol, of course. He had no reason to be
interested in Haruhi. Or concerned for her safety, other than making sure she
was able to work. Did he? If not, what the hell was he doing pocketing the key
and throwing up the hood of his sturdy coat as he strode purposefully out of
her apartment and towards the nearest church?
 
As soon as the first crack of thunder sounded, he began to run. The thunder
echoed behind him. A reminder. A time bomb. He had to find her and fast,
although he still couldn’t comprehend why he was so worried. The church was
locked, but a side gate that led to the cemetery was swinging open. Kyoya
squinted as he scanned the neat rows of small stones, each marking a different
set of ashes. His glasses were very little use against the rain, and it was now
pitch-black save for occasional flickers of lightning.
So he began searching on foot, as the rain became heavier and heavier. Kyoya
had no time to stop and appreciate his expensive coat and boots, but he would
be thankful later no doubt-
 
Crouching by a stone at the end of the row was a tiny, hunched figure, shaking
violently. Haruhi.
Heart skipping a beat, Kyoya stumbled towards her. She did not acknowledge him
when he yelled her name and tried to pull her to her feet.  Haruhi was frozen,
both by the furious weather and her terror at it. Realising that she couldn’t
help herself, Kyoya summoned strength he didn’t know he possessed, scooping her
into his arms and against his chest as he began to jog back downhill. When they
passed under the floodlight at the cemetery gate, he could see that she was
barefoot and wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. Her body was drenched in rain
and splattered with mud. Her eyes were wide open, but he had no idea if she
could see him or not.
“Haruhi, I’m getting you home”, he shouted above the noise of the storm. The
Fujiokas’ apartment was close, but he was soon short of breath and could see
Haruhi’s lips beginning to turn blue.
After what seemed an eternity, he reached the doorstep and managed to partially
set her on her feet so that he could fumble for the key, and then they were
crashing into the apartment. As the door slammed behind them, Haruhi jumped,
her eyes squeezing shut and a small whimper escaping her. Kyoya kicked off his
boots and shrugged out of his coat. There was an ancient electric heater in one
corner, which he flicked on. Then, pushing up his sleeves and wiping his
glasses, he strode across to the bathroom and turned the hot tap on the tub.
Slumped against the doorway, Haruhi did not move until Kyoya placed his hands
on her shoulders and said quietly, “It’s me Haruhi. Kyoya. You’re safe now. I
need to get you warm and dry.” At this she looked up at him, and her shaking
white hands made tight little fists in the pristine material of his shirt.
 Kyoya looked at the girl he had probably just rescued from hyperthermia, now
clinging to his shirt as she trembled with cold or fear or both, her hair and
clothes plastered to her papery skin. Whatever he was feeling right now was
unlike any other sensation he had experienced before; there had been nothing
less than unbridled panic when he found her, which had waned somewhat now they
were inside, but he knew he would not feel relieved until she was warmed up and
settled down. He would not feel satisfied until she knew that the thunder could
not hurt her. The feeling had been hard to put his finger on, but he saw it
now; he couldn't be okay unless she was.
Kyoya picked Haruhi up again and carried her to the bathroom, resting her on
the side of the bathtub. She still clutched at him. With one hand, he smoothed
her dripping hair out of her face, the other testing the temperature of the
running water. Despite being slow, it was hot.
“Haruhi”, he called gently. She looked up at him, but her eyes kept flicking
shut as she shivered. “Haruhi, I’m going to undress you and clean you up now.
I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Instinct was guiding Kyoya now, some
roused urge to protect and comfort the quaking brunette, a previously unknown
and unused part of his brain seeming to know exactly what to do. He carefully
prised her limbs apart, peeling her soaked t-shirt and the thin camisole
underneath off her skin and lifting them over her head. She was cold, still
very cold, and he could see fresh grazes and bruises standing out starkly
against her skin on one side of her torso. She must have fallen when she ran
from the storm. When Kyoya slipped the rest of her clothes down over her
ankles, he noticed that her feet were bleeding.

“Silly girl”, he murmured as he switched off the now-trickling tap and slid
Haruhi into the water, “silly girl.” She clutched her knees to her chest, teeth
rattling. There wasn’t enough water to immerse her but Kyoya spotted a plastic
jug on the shelf next to the soap and toothbrushes, so he began to pour the
bathwater over her shoulders, the steam rising from her little body in coiled
tendrils.
Slowly, as he trickled water onto her scalp and combed his fingers through her
hair, Haruhi started to relax. Kyoya repeated this until her eyelids flickered
and a normal colour had returned to her face. Then he reached for the towels
and lifted the girl out of the tub.
She was like a doll in his arms. Kyoya wrapped her limp form in the largest of
the towels, and then carried her back into the main room. He placed her in
front of the heater and sat beside her, slowly and methodically rubbing her
hair with a second towel. Evidently exhausted, she began to lean into him, no
longer whimpering each time the thunder made itself heard outside.
 Kyoya began to feel at ease once more, and set himself to searching the
apartment for pyjamas. On the clothes airer in the kitchen he found an old
button-up flannel shirt that had to be Ranka’s, as well as some jogging
bottoms. They would do. He unwrapped the towel from around Haruhi and helped
her into the shirt. It engulfed her. Turning his back to her, Kyoya then rid
himself of his own clothes, which were damp from the bath, slipping on the
joggers. Finally, he dragged the sleeping mats and blankets from the closet and
guided Haruhi down onto the mat, tucking the blankets securely around her. Her
hands reached out at him again, pulling her down next to him. Kyoya didn’t
protest. He pulled her back to his chest and began to stroke her hair,
listening to her slow even breathing.
Finally he could relax.
***** 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Kyoya was almost asleep when Haruhi’s phone began to ring, buzzing loudly
against the wooden surface of the side-table. Instinctively he sat up and so
did Haruhi, reaching for it and flipping it open.
“Hey Dad. No, the power’s not out, everything’s fine. Don’t stress yourself
out, I can manage. Okay. See you tomorrow night. Love you.”
 Throughout this exchange, Kyoya stared into his lap as he listened to Haruhi’s
voice. Her next words though, were addressed to him.
“Kyoya-senpai? What were you doing at my mother’s grave?”
Kyoya kept his gaze fixed on his knees. “I came to find you.” His voice came
out smaller than he intended.
“Why? Haruhi was confused but calm.
“Because…” Kyoya pushed his glasses up his noise, blinking several times. “I’m
aware that you don’t like thunder, and thought you might like company, as I had
no other occupation tonight.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Haruhi lay back down. Kyoya did the same. Haruhi winced with
the movement. “What happened to my side?”
“I’m guessing you must have stumbled and hurt yourself at some point when you
deemed it rational to flee your apartment without coat or shoes and run off
into the night.”
There was silence for a few moments. Kyoya realized that her warmth and
breathing had a similar effect on him to watching her tracker, except a
hundred, perhaps a thousand, times stronger.
 
“ You saw me naked.”
 
His eyes snapped open and he gulped audibly as an uncomfortable feeling forced
its way from his stomach into his throat. Kyoya was aware of Haruhi turning on
her side to face him, but he stared determinedly at the low ceiling.
At the time, nothing had crossed his mind other than getting Haruhi clean and
warm. Nothing else had mattered. But now his hands burned with the memory of
contact; her shoulders, her ribcage, her hips…
 
Kyoya could feel his face burning too. Gaze fixed resolutely at the tiles above
him, he remembered, involuntarily, a time when he had wondered what Haruhi
looked like naked.
Unable to sleep one night several weeks back, he had decided to indulge his
teenage hormones for a short while as stress relief, and was flicking through a
mental catalogue of customers to categorize the prettiest when he suddenly
thought of Haruhi and felt she somehow deserved to be at the top of the list.
His mind had filled with the knowledge that she was indeed a girl under her
androgynous exterior, and speculating on her masked femininity proved
sufficient fuel to the fire. Afterwards, he locked away his thoughts and did
not return to them. But that didn’t change the fact that he had thought about
seeing her body, touching it even, and exhibited the same physiological
response as any other young male would.
In fact, as he guiltily recalled, he had whispered her name into the darkness
of his room as he climaxed.
 
 
Kyoya blinked twice at the exposed light bulb, then said; “You’d been having
some sort of panic attack and couldn’t help yourself, and remaining in wet
clothes could have caused illness.” His lips and throat were somewhat dry. “I…
I would never take advantage of such a situation to do anything you didn’t want
me to. You know that.”
“I do.” He could tell by Haruhi’s voice that she was smiling now. She shifted a
little close to him, so her forehead all but rested on his left shoulder, and
he repositioned the covers over them.
 
“Have you seen many girls naked?” she asked suddenly, and more quietly.
Kyoya was a little indignant that the girl lying next to him was the only
person- apart from his elder siblings- who had the ability to make him feel
embarrassed. “I have conducted research according to my natural curiosities,”
he muttered sheepishly, feeling more blood go to his face.
Haruhi shifted again, and out of the corner of his eye Kyoya could see she was
biting her lip. He wondered what she was thinking.
Finally she took a deep breath, and the words tumbled out; “I don’t care if
people see me as a boy or a girl, I really don’t, but I don’t feel like I can
be a proper girl even if I wanted to. I’m the wrong shape.”
 The wrong shape? What did she mean? How could she think that her slight,
angular frame was wrong? It seemed perfectly right to him.
Kyoya took his glasses off, set them to his side, and rubbed his eyes. Then he
spoke, choosing his words very carefully.
 
“I see you as Haruhi, as simple as that. And I have come to realise that the
concern I harbor for your wellbeing surpasses the level I feel for my family or
friends. Those feelings are not diminished or marred by your lack of… assets.
That is to say, I appreciate you as you are.”
“Senpai?” Haruhi whispered.
He turned on his side to face her. She was blushing faintly, her eyes wide and
confused.
The right words finally found their way to his tongue. “I like your body
because I like all of you.”
 
It made sense now. The pressing and ever-increasing interest in her life and
welfare, despite there being no obvious being personal gain. Watching her,
taking extra notice of her words, mulling over these details when he was lying
awake in bed.
The way he wanted to kiss her right now, and feel her pressed close to him. All
of her.
 
Kyoya leaned into the stunned silence and gently closed the gap between their
mouths.
Haruhi’s eyes closed, and so did his, one hand reaching up to feel the side of
her face. She was soft. When they came apart, they both breathed deeply and
heavily for a moment. Kyoya opened his eyes to find Haruhi looking at him with
sparkling eyes and a shy smile. Her expression made him feel something deep in
his chest, something he had never felt before, and he captured her lips for a
second time, harder now, reaching with his right hand to the space behind her
and turning them so that she was on her back beneath him.
 
They had been here once before, but now they were so much closer. Haruhi’s
hands went to his shoulders but not to push him off, instead brushing softly
and slowly over the skin of his bare shoulder blades. Her touch was impossibly
hot, sending a shiver down Kyoya’s spine. Those thoughts were dragged to the
surface by her tentative touch. He repositioned himself a few inches lower,
breaking off the kiss, and experimentally brushing against her neck.
 Haruhi let out a small gasp and tilted her head back. Kyoya kissed down her
throat and back up again, hungry for her. He darted out his tongue to taste
where he had just kissed, then sucked the flesh into his mouth and pinched
slightly with his teeth. The girl below him whined. He became aware that he was
rock hard within the confines of his boxers and his borrowed jogging pants.
 Kyoya’s sweating hands snaked to Haruhi’s sides as she lifted his chin and met
his lips again, both of them breathing fast. His fingers quickly found the
buttons on her shirt.
“Can I?” he asked. The voice he heard didn’t sound like his; it was nervous,
but moreover it was desperate.
Haruhi nodded, and he fumbled with the buttons one by one, trying to kiss her
at the same time but having to stop to look what he was doing. When he pushed
the flannel material to the side, Kyoya let his eyes roam her chest, two erect
nipples all but under his palms, and below her navel, a patch of dark curls
leading down to where her legs were pressed tightly together.
 Perfect.
She was trembling slightly, biting her lip as their eyes met. Kyoya pushed
their upper bodies together, kissing still more hungrily, basking in the
feeling of her small breasts pressing into his own chest.
 Growing impatient now, he let his hands roam between them to trace her ribs
and then cover the two soft mounds of flesh. They were soft, warm, a perfect
size, and he had never felt anything like this shameless want that was now
coursing through him.
Obviously sharing some of that want, Haruhi’s fists tangled in his hair as he
palmed her breasts slightly clumsily. Kyoya broke away from her kiss
momentarily to grunt at the sensation, and attempted to prise her knees apart
with one of his own, but she resisted, turning her head to the side.

“You won’t hurt me will you?” Haruhi all but whispered.
Kyoya attached his lips to the skin below her earlobe and groaned softly. Did
she think he was going to just steal her innocence away, minutes after their
first kiss? That he just wanted to use her body for his own pleasure?
“No. I’m not going to do that to you”, he murmered, emphasizing that. “I just
want to see you. Feel you.”
Haruhi flushed crimson, but yielded, and Kyoya settled himself between her
legs, attacking her throat again as he stroked the velvety skin of one exposed
thigh. She let out a ghost of a moan, but it was more than enough for Kyoya,
who brought his shaking hand right to the top of the inside of her thigh,
brushing at the downy hair.
 
After a period of teasing from his brothers, he had taken it upon himself to
conduct thorough private research into anatomy. But nothing could have prepared
him for the sensation that flowed from his fingertips into his entire body the
moment they came into contact with her warm wetness. A barely audible “oh God”
drifted from his parted lips. He had never been more aroused in his entire
life, and had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself.
 
Dragging his index finger carefully up and down between her folds, Kyoya licked
his lips and looked back at Haruhi’s face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were
parted as she took faster and shallower breaths.
Kyoya buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I could come just from the
feeling of you”, he groaned into the flushed skin, too turned on to be
embarrassed by his own upfront words. Too turned on to feel anything else at
all.
The next moment, a small hand was resting on his abdomen. He began to move his
fingers in slow circles around Haruhi’s centre, and then the hand was inching
down to cup his clothed crotch.
A low moan escaped from between Kyoya’s lips, and as Haruhi began to
tentatively apply pressure, he lost it. His hands went to her shoulders as he
gripped tightly, panting with ecstasy and the struggle to stop his weight from
crushing her, feeling her fingers mould around his length in between their
entwined bodies. A few thrusts against her hand was all it took and he grunted
a curse into the hollow of her throat, digging his nails in as he came. Hard.
 
As soon as his breathing began to slow down, Kyoya felt annoyed at himself.
This was not what he had been aiming for. This was not about him. He pushed
himself up into a sitting position, sweeping his hair away from his burning
face and ears.

“Haruhi”, he breathed softly, reaching down to cup her hot cheek in his palm.
She sat up too. “We can stop if you like, but I still want to make you feel
good.”
The girl had drawn her knees in and crossed her arms self-consciously over her
chest. For a moment Kyoya panicked, thinking she was hurt. But then she smiled
shyly, and whispered, “I’d like that.”
“Give me a moment”. Kyoya hurried to the bathroom to clean himself up a little,
his mind running over everything he had learned. If he’d known he was going to
apply his knowledge to the real thing so soon, he probably would have studied
harder. Stop it, he interrupted himself. This isn’t an exam, this is a human
interaction.One he hadn’t dared to imagine would ever occur.

Returning to the main room, Kyoya sat behind Haruhi, gently pushing the shirt
off her shoulders and removing it, then pulled her into his lap. He began to
massage her neck and shoulders, tracing over the crescent moon dents he had
left in her soft skin. He brushed his lips slowly across her shoulders,
trailing kisses from one side to the other. Exploring her skin the way he had
denied wanting to for some time.
Feeling Haruhi exhale and lean back into him, Kyoya slid his hands round her
sides, coming to rest on the underside of her breasts. Outside, the storm began
to pick up momentum again, but the two teenagers were oblivious.
Kyoya let his long fingers splay out over Haruhi’s chest, supporting the small
weight of each breast. Slowly, gently, the pads of his fingers reached her
nipples and traced them, causing them to stiffen once again. Haruhi arched her
back so that her chest pushed into Kyoya’s hands, and he rewarded her with a
kiss to the nape of her neck.
One hand moved lower and ghosted over her bony hip, and Kyoya’s lips now moved
to space behind Haruhi’s ear, then below, and forward into the hollow of her
collarbone. Haruhi was drawing shallow breaths, her head tilting back as Kyoya
worked methodically on her body. He repeated his actions symmetrically on her
other side, skirting carefully round her injuries, feeling her growing
anticipation. She smelled and tasted as good as she felt, and he inhaled the
scent of her hair deeply as his dominant hand finally came to rest on her
abdomen, fingers skimming over her pubic hair and reaching her core.
Haruhi was notably more aroused now; moistness had pooled between her legs and
her lower lips felt engorged by increasd blood flow. Ripe fruit, Kyoya thought
to himself, feeling for the little bundle of nerves. He knew he was in the
right place when Haruhi bucked her hips against his palm.
Kyoya’s index and middle fingertips came to rest over her hidden entrance. She
stiffened, asking, “Won’t I bleed?”
“That only happens when force is used,” Kyoya told her. “I won’t do it if it
doesn’t feel like you’re up to it.” God I hope you are. Haruhi relaxed again,
and he resumed his teasing, savouring the moment, until Haruhi became too
worked up by his hot breath on her ear and let forth a small moan. Kyoya curled
one finger so that it pushed inside her, and she whined.
Rocking his hand slightly, Kyoya managed to work a gentle rhythm of flexing
inside her while stimulating her sensitive pearl with his palm. When she
started to move with him, he added a second finger, met with momentary
resistance before he brushed that spot inside her and she gasped out; “Kyoya…”
Hearing his name leave her lips sent Kyoya kissing hungrily across the top of
her back again, his free hand squeezing at her breasts. Every sound she made
was delicious, the feel of her sex surrounding his digits exquisite. He caught
her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently, earning another whimper. She
must be close.
Suddenly growing bold, Kyoya let go of her and moved to the side so that she
fell back against the mat. Haruhi whined at the loss of contact, but in a
moment Kyoya had his hands on her waist and pulled her down to him, pressing
his mouth to her soaking centre.
The taste of her juices was sweet, invitingly so. Kyoya ran his tongue up and
down her folds a few times, before lapping at Haruhi’s swollen pearl. Her moans
were growing louder, interspersed with gasps as she struggled for air. Kyoya
savoured the feel of her against his mouth for a moment longer, then pushed his
long fingers back into her heated depths, plunging in and out as he flicked his
tongue furiously across the landscape of her slick sex.
“Kyoya, I’m… ah, Kyoya!” Haruhi grabbed his hair and tugged, hard, as she
teetered on the edge. Yes. Moaning into her wetness, Kyoya clamped his lips
round her pearl and sucked hard, pressing his tongue flat against it, fingers
continuing to thrust and curl.
His name left Haruhi’s lips once more in a high, loud cry as she trembled and
arched her back, her nectar gushing into his mouth. He rode her through her
orgasm, relishing the way her pelvis jerked up to meet him and her muscles
spasmed around him.
 
When her whimpers had died away, Kyoya pulled her to his chest and let her
recover there. Their ragged breaths mingled with the noise of the rain
clattering against the windows.
“Did I just…?” Haruhi’s voice was soft, a little hoarse.
Kyoya couldn’t help but feel smug with the knowledge that he’d given her her
first ever orgasm. “You climaxed, yes. That happens sometimes.”
He stroked her soft hair. He felt elated at having his first intimate
experience with someone else. But there were other emotions, way more intense
ones. Happiness at being near to her. Awe at how beautiful she looked when he
was pleasuring her. And exhaustion. Overwhelming exhaustion. Wrapped in each
other, the two of them quickly succumbed to sleep, entirely satiated.
 
 -
 
They slept until early afternoon, when the rain was still falling but the sky
was no longer black. Haruhi made soup and taught Kyoya card games at which he
was infuriatingly skillful. Eventually, he called for a car and dressed, not
wanting to have to come up with an explanation for his presence when Haruhi’s
father came home.
Evening was setting in and the last of the clouds had parted. At the door,
Kyoya gave Haruhi a chaste kiss.
“I meant everything I said,” he promised her, “and everything I did. I
recommend we both think over it all, but I’ll be here when you need me.”
“See you at club on Monday”, Haruhi smiled. “And… thank you for coming to find
me. And everything else.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” Kyoya bowed his head, and then departed briskly
for the car that had just pulled up, looking more like his usual self as Haruhi
watched him walk away.
 
Sakai had just begun his evening shift. He smiled at the reflection of the
teenage boy in the rear view mirror. “Home, master Ootori?”
“Yes thank you.” Kyoya slumped into the expensive leather, watching out the
window with eyes lost in thought.  Overnight, he seemed to have matured
somewhat, but there was a slight glint in his grey eyes that was unmistakably
youthful. Sakai smiled again.
Just as they reached the gated entrance to the Ootori grounds, Kyoya glanced up
and saw the old man still watching him from the mirror. He adjusted his
glasses, then spoke. “And yes, Sakai.” He said. “You were right. She really
is.”
Chapter End Notes
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