From an anon's question, "I hope this is not out of the blue, but od you have any headcanons for Kyoya comforint Haruhi during a thunderstorm? I mean how he would comfort her and she would react?"
Enjoy!
Lightning flashed uninvited into the room, narrated by Hell's symphony while the storm turned everyday shadows into flickering monstrosities. Haruhi took deep, greedy breaths, doing her best to remain casual while increasingly eyeing the empty wardrobe from her place at the foot of the bed.
She knew whose studious eyes laid behind her, no doubt observing her transition away from confidence into somewhere embarrassing, base, and lonely.
At this point, the storm had done little more than cause the two of them interruption; an abrupt cut through the moment wherein Haruhi would have thanked Kyoya for the opportunity to see through his ruse before going on her own way.
But now… Now there was nowhere to go. Nowhere away from a forecasted all-nighter and the misfortune of facing her own vulnerability, anyway.
And so Haruhi sat, bangs in her eyes and knees to her chest while realizing that save for the simple act of standing and putting one foot in front of the other, there would be no other way. She exhaled deeply, intent on doing so when a sudden weight pressed into the mattress, next to the space she now leaned against.
"Fish."
Kyoya's voice came low, his tone straight-to-the-point, and contradictory to the almost shy half-smile across his face.
"Come again?"
"I hate fish." Kyoya enunciated in such a way as to leave no question to exactly what he meant with his confession.
"Really?" Haruhi inquired, not an ounce of condescension to her words. "Fish. Hm."
Crawling off the bed, he came to sit beside her, managing to wrap the accompanying blanket around their shoulders in time with a particularly loud crash of thunder. Saving her any further humiliation, Kyoya leaned gently into Haruhi, speaking all the while.
"Logic and aquatic biology aside, they're nothing more than instinct-driven pieces of muscle with eyes."
Haruhi giggled quietly while letting her weight fall into him. She smelled sweet, her warmth becoming more apparent as fear and trembling tapered away.
"Mm, fair point. At least where they lack grace, they make up for it by being delicious."
Kyoya couldn't help but laugh. He took a chance to draw her further near, relief flooding through him as she obliged the embrace.
"I'd appreciate your cooperation in not informing the twins or Tamaki." Kyoya whispered. "I don't care for being laughed at, and can't help but imagine Tamaki trying to cure me of the thing."
"Likewise, then."
"Deal."
