Chapter Seven

It took some convincing to get Kyoya to agree to bring her to her dorm and not his apartment; he'd even tried threatening to withhold the promised pizza to get his way. Haruhi just rolled her eyes and informed him, "That isn't going to work, senpai. You need to remember, my dorm room is where I live. I can't hang out at your place all the time."

She blushed when Kyoya pointed out they'd been doing rather more than hanging out as of late.

They were halfway up the second flight of stairs in her dorm when she sighed. "Look, I appreciate the ride, but you really don't have to follow me up to my room, you know."

"As long as I'm here, I may as well discover what a commoner's dorm looks like. It will be educational."

"Go home already!" Her complaint was half-hearted at best, all she could muster when she knew he'd made up his mind.

It was simple to tell which half of the small room was Haruhi's. It was scrupulously tidy, with minimal decoration. A photo of her mother on the desk was the only personal item in sight. The other half was cluttered with throw pillows tossed haphazardly from the bed, clothing tossed randomly from the closet, and virtually no wall space visible beneath posters of idols. Also, the roommate herself was present, as perfectly put together as her space was not, and staring wide-eyed at Haruhi and her companion. Haruhi avoided the questions in that gaze by hanging up her coat and placing her purse neatly inside her miniscule closet. She sighed and resigned herself to more awkward introductions.

"Honoka, this is Kyoya Ootori. I work for him, and he is ostensibly my friend. I have no idea why he followed me home."

"Such a pleasure," Kyoya intoned. "I've heard so much about you." Not from Haruhi, but never mind that.

"Oh, uh, yeah. It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Honoka Ruiko." She looked significantly at Haruhi, who just shrugged. "I'm sorry to run off right away, but I, uh, promised I'd call my boyfriend?" It was a poorly executed lie, but it allowed Honoka escape from whatever weird thing was going on here. This guy's predatory vibe was a way bigger warning than any scrunchie on a door handle could manage.

"You totally scared her off," Haruhi admonished when her roommate fled.

"I was nothing but polite."

"You know exactly what I mean, senpai."

"It could have been avoided if we'd gone to my apartment."

Haruhi groaned. "I don't know why we had to go anywhere together!"

He smirked at her and locked the door. "You really have no clue? None at all?" He stalked toward her, sliding off his jacket and draping it over her desk chair. Haruhi back away all of one step before she realized there was not much space to go unless she wanted to end up boxed in by her bed.

She may have decided to hold her ground, but Kyoya had other plans in mind. He closed the distance between them slowly, with all the feral grace of a tiger. He was still perfectly deliberate, but his coolness had disappeared. She could feel his heat even before he gripped her shoulders, driving her backwards until her calves hit the bed and, overbalanced, she sat hard. Still he pressed forward, so her knees parted as he invaded her space. He fell to his own between them.

And then, abruptly, his momentum stilled, and he simply held her. Haruhi's arms had folded around him initially on instinct, but as he nuzzled, trying desperately to close the nonexistent space between them, she tightened her embrace.

"It's okay," she murmured. "Tell me what's wrong."

Kyoya pulled in shuddering breath after shuddering breath, until she thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, he spoke, his forehead still pressed tightly into the crook of her neck and shoulder. "I lose control whenever I'm with you. I was so angry tonight. I scared your roommate, and it made me glad. I wanted to scare you too. Jesus, no, I wanted to punish you, and you didn't even do anything wrong."

Shockingly, rather than pushing him away in disgust, she chuckled softly. "I have the feeling you would have made me enjoy any 'punishment' you had to dish out."

So he pushed himself away instead, gripping her shoulders tightly to force her gaze to meet his. "I am not nice, Haruhi. You should be exploring your sexuality with someone who will take you on dates, give you flowers, be decent to you. Not take, take, take." His voice still blazed with anger, even if it was now more obviously self-directed.

"You are, too, nice. You just hide it from yourself really well. And I'm pretty sure you were the one give, give, giving the other night at your apartment. So you lose control sometimes. So what? You are still the most controlled person I've ever met. No one needs to rein themselves in that tightly all the time." She tugged him back to her so his head was tucked snugly under her chin and rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Anyway, I kind of like it that I'm the one who cracks that composure of yours. To have the Shadow King acting in any way that isn't perfectly disciplined because of me… it's actually really freaking sexy."

He felt her chest rumble with a short half-chuckle. "Who'd have ever thought I'd have to reassure you that you're sexy? I mean, you have to notice the way women look at you. Plenty of men, too, for that matter. You could have your pick of partners."

"Hmm. There is very little money can't buy," he said by way of acknowledgement.

Haruhi rolled her eyes. "It's not just your money, or your name, you dope. Don't be dumb. Come on."

She was tugging at him again, this time maneuvering him to lie down as she scooted to stretch out next to him. Her bed was so narrow, they were nearly nose-to-nose. Silent, they looked at each other. With an arm draped across his neck, her fingers gently massaged his scalp until his jaw unclenched, his breaths slowed and deepened, and finally, he drifted to sleep. Carefully, unwilling to disturb him, Haruhi leaned forward and kissed his forehead, the only outlet she allowed for her full heart.

As always, Kyoya woke in stages. First came sounds: birdsong from outside and student chatter from the hall. Next he became aware of the light beyond his closed eyelids. He smelled coffee and hoped it was for him. And finally, he became aware of Haruhi, running her fingers casually up and down his chest like it was no big deal.

He popped one suspicious eye open. She was staring at him. "Whaddaya want?" he groaned.

She smiled and pinched him lightly. "Nothing. I was just watching you wake up. It takes a long time." She'd known it, but she'd never seen it up close before.

"I've been up a while," she continued. "I ran to the cafeteria and got some coffee and pastries. It's closed by now, so I hope that will do for breakfast for you."

Kyoya grunted. He sat up, rubbing his face and looking for his glasses. Haruhi reached across him and grabbed them for him before he'd spotted them in their unfamiliar place on her desk.

"You fell asleep in them," she reported. "You're such a heavy sleeper, I got them off without an issue, and your shoes too." She gestured to where they sat, neatly aligned next to her own by the door.

It was an oddly intimate sight. Instead of dwelling on it, Kyoya nabbed one of the two paper coffee cups and downed half of the only still barely warm brew. Caffeine successfully ingested, he flopped back onto the bed to wait for it to take effect. A solid warmth settled at his side-Haruhi had snuggled up to him. Her arm snaked across him, low on his belly, wakeful fingers fidgeting next to his navel. He tried ignoring the tickling sensation-for all of ten seconds.

"Haruhi. I'm sleeping."

She snorted at him. "No, you're not."

"Well, I want to be sleeping," he corrected.

She propped herself up onto her elbow and smirked down at him. "Are you sure?"

Her fingers had ceased their aimless fidgeting and were now sweeping up his side only to meander their way back down across his abdomen. His muscles quivered under her touch, but Kyoya's eyes remained closed behind glasses. She noticed the scant millimeter of smile he was attempting to hide, though.

His shirt, untucked from sleep, had ridden slightly up, revealing a simple white tee beneath the button-down. Haruhi traced the triangle of fine white cotton below the bottom button. Through the single layer, he could feel the heat of her hand, the press of each individual finger, the curl of one beneath the hem of his undershirt, and then, skin on skin. She'd only uncovered a few inches, drawing tiny circles there, but the reverberations swept through his whole body. He felt her shift, and her lips pressed to that spot, which he suddenly realized was near his hip and just above his pants. It was morning, and just like every morning-

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just a thing that happens. You don't have to…" He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Haruhi smiled against him and looked up. His eyes were tightly shut, his lips pressed into a thin line, and the most adorable blush had spread across his cheeks. She hadn't even known he could feel embarrassed. Utterly charmed, she abandoned the small patch of skin to press her lips to his. Her hand, however, kept being drawn to the spot, mapping and remapping until her explorations had exposed a good portion of his belly and she was able to slide her hand beneath the tee.

She'd never touched him-anyone-like this. His height and slimness belied his strength. She delighted in defining each abdominal muscle in turn and skating down the narrow channels between them. She needed to see and pushed herself up onto one hip. His eyes flew open in surprise when she shoved the shirts up as high as she could manage. It wasn't enough-both fitted quite close to his body and were pinned beneath his back.

"Off," she commanded. He sat up obediently and began working on the buttons. Haruhi was struggling to keep her balance, propped high on one hand, and her leg was starting to fall asleep, so while she started on the buttons from the bottom up, she moved to kneel before him with one of his legs between hers so she could face him directly. He leaned back to remove his shirt, and Haruhi was already drawing his tee up, ready to yank it over his head the instant his arms were free. He had clenched his legs to retain his balance during the awkward motions, and his thigh muscle did something embarrassing and wonderful to her. Her eyes flew to his, or would have if she hadn't had his tee-shirt half off of him and covering his face. It disappeared, and a hand on his shoulder pushed him back to the bed when he would have leaned forward to kiss her.

"My turn," she warned. His nostrils flared, and she could imagine continuing to do as he was told was starting to grate on him. It made no difference to her, though, because he was there, shirtless before her, and she had never allowed herself to look at him like this before.

Kyoya watched as her eyes consumed him, from the hollow of throat, across chest, down belly, lower… Shyness and a hint of panic washed over her. She looked at him helplessly.

"I, uh, don't really know what to do," she admitted.

"Whatever you would like. Are you nervous?" He sat up to talk to her face to face.

She nodded. Here eyes were closed and she was worrying her lip, and it made Kyoya desperate to kiss her. Still, as irritating as it was, she seemed to want to take the lead, and he would allow it. This time.

"You look like you have a question," he prompted.

If possible, she looked more miserable. "It's just… Well, the videos… Either you don't see it at all, or it seems like they purposely get it all over…" She faltered and fell silent.

"I have literally no idea what you are talking about, Haruhi."

She dropped her face into her hands and groaned. She waved vaguely at his body, nearly glowing red. Kyoya stared at her, half surprised that the always forthright Haruhi couldn't say what was on her mind, half amused at her mortification.

"The… mess," she finally croaked, waving again in the direction of his hips.

He suddenly realized what she so ineptly was trying to ask and had to stifle a laugh. "Are you concerned about ejaculation?" he asked, trying to keep his voice serious, clinical if he was able. She squeaked, and he thought he might implode from her naivete.

"Hmm. If the videos you mentioned were porn, they're likely not good examples of what sex is like when it's non-performative. It doesn't have to be that messy-condoms or tissues or even just aim can-"

"Okay, okay, I get it! Please shut up now," she begged. "Or just kill me."

A smug smile tipped his lips up. "You know, it's actually quite… intriguing, the idea of you watching those kinds of videos." The ache in his pants was proof enough of that. "Tell me, was it for fun or for research?"

"There is no way I am answering that, senpai." Her voice was flat and uncompromising. Any response would be terrible.

"I'll just make my own assumptions, then," he assured her deviously. Hooking a finger under her chin, he pulled her forward for a kiss, first soothing her frayed nerves and then lighting a fire in them. Her hands moved to cup his face, and he relished in her nearness but didn't dare touch her for fear of frightening her further. Long, languid moments passed. Her fierce blush had dissipated to a lovely glow, and finally, finally, she pulled her lips from his only to track them across his jaw and down his neck. She experimented with shy nibbles that made him voracious for her. Still he held himself back, merely stroking her back as she tasted her way across his collar bones. Her hand settled momentarily on his thigh. After fluttering her fingers nervously once, twice, she found her voice.

"Can I…?"

"Anything," he promised.

Still, it took her a bit to screw up her courage. She started easy, sliding her hand toward his knee. On the way back up, she dared to stretch her thumb nearer the inside of his thigh. A soft breath indicated his approval and, encouraged, her hand strayed nearer her goal. A few more slow passes convinced Kyoya she was torturing him. Her other hand had begun brushing across the top of his pants, from one hip to the other, occasionally pausing as her fingers tripped over the fly. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and prayed for salvation.

He could have sobbed when she abandoned his thigh. Her fingers had been so tantalizingly close. But now she was tugging at the top button of his pants, and that was… more than okay. Hopeful, even. Her fingers were clumsy, but he couldn't quite discern if that was because she was trembling or he was. Ever determined, Haruhi managed four of the five buttons and decided that was good enough. Tentatively, she brushed the backs of her fingers over the soft gray cotton beneath and was pleased to hear him hiss. Unsure but curious, she turned her hand to let the pads of her fingers do the exploring.

Even through his underwear, she could feel the heat of him. He was firm, as she'd expected, but there was a slight give to the head that she thought gave a slight air of delicacy.

She would never, ever admit to him that she thought his penis was at all delicate. He would gleefully murder her if he knew.

She stroked as far as she was able but didn't have a lot of room. As she reached under the inflexible fabric of his fly, he lifted his hips, and together they pushed the offending garment to his calves where he kicked free of it entirely.

He watched her take in the sight of him in nothing but his boxer briefs. Without the constricting pants, his erection tented the cotton higher than before, and her ministrations had created a small damp spot. Brow furrowed in concentration, she cupped him as fully as her small hand would accord. He resisted the urge to let his eyes drift close in bliss; he wanted to sear this memory of her in his mind forever.

She started to move. First with the flat of her palm, then curling her fingers around him. The cotton, soft as it was, bunched oddly. Without thinking, she slipped beneath the elastic band to better appreciate the gentle topography of him. He gasped and imprisoned her wrist, holding her still.

"If you… This will be over quickly if you continue as you are," he panted. She kissed him hard and freed him completely, engulfing him in both her hands. Kyoya strangled out a moan. Her hands were so soft and cool, and this was Haruhi touching him, Haruhi who set about compensating for her inexperience with close attention to his responses, repeating motions that made him sigh and interspersing those with ones that made him buck. She rolled her palm over his head and he surged into the abyss, whispering her name over and over. Mind empty and body spent, he fell back into the bed.

Dumbstruck, he floated on a post-orgasmic high until she elbowed him in the stomach, giggling absurdly.

"Kyoya! I need a tissue!"

He peeled an eye open to see her cupping sticky hands.

"All of the things you mentioned, the tissue, the aim… I forgot all that, and then it was too late and I sort of panicked, and…" She dissolved into laughter. "Help me out here, or it's going to drip all over you!"

He hurriedly grabbed the box of tissues from her desk, grateful her desk was small and his arms were long. He set it on his belly and rolled his eyes at her. "Here you go, you ludicrously meticulous woman. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going back to my afterglow." She snickered as she took a few tissues and he settled back, arms crossed over his chest and brow lowered in consternation.

"You know, senpai, your grumpy act would be a lot more convincing if you weren't smiling quite so wide." Hands mostly dry, she settled beside him once more. Curling his arm around her shoulders, he dragged her closer, and she might have imagined it, but a soft disturbance of her hair seemed to be evidence of a kiss.