Don't Call Me Senpai

by ohship

Haruhi confronts Kyōya. Rated M for lemon. This is my first-ever story. Feedback appreciated! 20 February 2013: Thank you all for your follows, favorites, and feedback. Your responses mean a lot to me and I'm enjoying letting this story unfold. 29 April 2013: Finally complete! Your patience is appreciated.

1. Chapter 1

Haruhi was livid. Kyōya had always belittled her and other Host Club members, exploiting them in a myriad of new ways. Recently, though, he had been singling her out as a target of the covert meddling he had become so obsessed with since joining the group.

Though among the first to notice she was female, he never seemed to acknowledge her as a girl. She had grown to appreciate the way the others could sometimes be found staring, caught off guard in daydreaming about her wearing dresses or chasing her around flirtatiously. She gave up any hope of getting dates when she agreed to join the club as she knew she'd have to disguise her gender in order to pay off her massive debt. These subtle glances and the way her comrades sometimes cooed over her felt almost normal.

He had never indulged in any such thoughts and maintained a businesslike, if distant, regard for her.

But she'd had enough of his attitude. Not only had he tricked her into coming to the beach on vacation only to entertain the club's guests, he chided her for defending them against the locals earlier that day. He even had the audacity to slip an invoice under her door after dinner, indicating his dismay for having had to smooth things over with the ladies by sending them flowers. Since the guests had decided to return home after their troubling afternoon and Kyōya couldn't be bothered to waste travel fare over one day's stay, Haruhi and the rest of the Host Club were stuck at Kyōya's second home for the night.

She burst into his room angrily, sending the door flying into an adjacent wall. Kyōya's eyes darted to the doorway and before he could protest her lack of decorum and respect for his family's property, she stomped toward him. He was a bit shocked to see her addressing him with such haste and informality and, though she had a reputation for being feisty, she was seldom overcome with fury.

"Kyōya-Senpai, let's see how you like to be messed with." She towered over his chair and he looked up at her, half careless and half amused as he continued to towel-dry his hair after showering.