of smiles and scowls.
day two – cuddling.
Kyon didn't enjoy being touched. He frowned upon anybody getting too close to him, whether it was Haruhi and her tangents so animated that she spit in his face or classmates who patted his back for a job well done.
Koizumi was no better than any of those people; he was, by far, the worst. More than anything, Koizumi longed for pets and touches and cradles like a friendly rabbit or loyal dog. Even before this stupid, confused, secretive thing they shared became an actual thing, Koizumi's general touchy-feeliness poked all of Kyon's buttons and more.
Despite all of his complaints, though, the sight of Koizumi curled up in between his legs, his back to his chest, was sort of endearing. Kyon could only see half of his face, but that was more than enough – he drunk in the image of Koizumi's fluttering eyelids, pale cheeks, and relaxed lips. The smile Koizumi reserved for Haruhi and his peers was absent from his features; that smile grew strenuous to wear, as Kyon had been made aware. Kyon would agree – the boy looked much more peaceful without a smile on his lips. Even now, as his snores quivered and hands clenched in and out of fists, he was in complete serenity.
Kyon would boastfully tease him about that later. He was the only one who seemed able to quell Koizumi's rapid thoughts – a title he was proud to earn, by some stretch of the word. He was inwardly proud, but he would never admit it to anyone… especially not to Koizumi himself.
With every breath the esper took, his back pressed further into Kyon's chest and stomach. His head craned down in front of him in a way that didn't seem comfortable at all, but he never seemed to mind. His arms were crossed, as well as his legs in standard Indian style as Kyon's wrapped around them. Kyon felt a bit claustrophobic – after all, Koizumi was basically sitting on him – but it was sort of sweet.
Well, Koizumi would view it as sweet. Kyon still saw it as annoying. Only the deepest part of his heart (the part that was too blotted with cynicism to thrive) would ever admit that he found Koizumi's passive face sweet or, god forbid, cute.
Hesitantly, Kyon pried his arms away from the cushions of the couch and reached out towards Koizumi's sleeping frame. His hands lingered in the air for a moment, unsure of their next move.
Uh.
This is the part where I, like, hug him… right?
I don't know how to do this!
I've done this like, fifty times and I still don't know how to do this!
He grimaced. Yeah, he really wasn't cut out for relationships of any sort… just give him a house and a dog and he'd be set. Relationships were too damn confusing (especially for him – how he ended up with Koizumi in his arms rather than Haruhi or Asahina or Nagato was beyond his understanding… maybe it was all some horrible, oddly wonderful dream).
The pads of his fingers delicately stroked Koizumi's hair, too light a touch to disturb him. The strands were soft and luscious and smelled faintly of shampoo, conditioner, and gel. Koizumi tended to groom himself to near perfection. He supposed that flawlessly ruffled-but-contained hair was too perfect to be natural – a shame, really.
Kyon's fingers traced the boy's neck, tickling him a bit, before he snuck his arms around the other's waist and hugged him close. A soft murmur escape Koizumi's lips, something along the lines of, "I'm sleeping, you asshole," Kyon was sure. But he didn't seem all that disturbed, from what Kyon could tell. He was probably enjoying it and just keeping quiet so Kyon wouldn't flinch away. He wouldn't put it past him.
Kyon honestly didn't care, though, as much as the pessimistic side of his brain would beg to differ. He was too focused on Koizumi's warmth resonating throughout both of their bodies and the scent of the hair that Kyon nuzzled his way protectively into. Koizumi muttered another drawl of unintelligible, sleepy gibberish that was way too endearing for a normal person.
Yeah, he didn't like being touched.
But when it was Koizumi, with his soft face and lips and hair, he couldn't hold any room for complaints.
