Host Club
Title: Progression
Disclaimer: Do I look like I can draw? 'Course 's not my creation..
Notes: A little something I've been working on since book 3? Whenever it was they went to Nekozawa's mansion--she'll probably keep on growing as the Kyoya-muse strikes... [my Haruhi-muse is as impossible as the original e.e;;]
Progression
It started with an innocuous conversation in Nekozawa’s kitchen-hidden beneath the bustle of the Tamaki trying to work a tea kettle.
“Is that why the girls come to you, then?”
Kyoya blinked, and turned to really look at the girl. A slight smirk on his face, he raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you ask?”
Haruhi shrugged, the sleeve of her borrowed pyjamas falling off her slim shoulder. Her face bland-she never planned on letting Kyoya know of the desire that rushed her body before she realized his premise-she tilted her head.
“Because it would make more sense than being attracted to the manipulative side you show us.”
She did not expect the frank amusement which slid onto her companion’s face. Chuckling, Kyoya reached across to adjust [Kaoru’s] pyjamas.
“If that’s what you’d like to think.” His hand lingered on her skin, before he nodded toward Tamaki. “Now, if you would rescue them before Nekozawa has reason to sue?”
“…Sure.” Haruhi turned away before either of them could realize she was blushing.
And, somehow, it had snowballed from there.
“What are you thinking of?” She gasped as Kyoya’s hand slid into the small of her back. She frowned at him, but remained in her spot.
“The night we spent at Nekozawa’s mansion.”
“Oh? What brought that on?”
She turned toward him, unintentionally forcing him to wrap her in a one armed embrace. Her face was still slightly flushed from her earlier laughter.
“How ridiculous you all were being-why would I transfer to Roberta’s for such an implausible excuse?” She continued, not bothering to censor herself. “That, and, the girls seemed to be interested in your type.”
“My type?” Kyoya tilted her face upward, then left his hand beneath her chin. “What do you mean?”
She felt trapped, suddenly. “I-they, they seemed to enjoy a loss of-“
“Control?” He smirked, leaning down. “But why did you notice that, Haruhi?” His breath brushed her face. “Or, could it be that you were thinking of yourself?”
“Mother!”
As usual, Tamaki broke the moment and Haruhi pushed away from him, cheeks red and lips tingling-
“HARUHI!”
-and found herself with an armful of Hanizuka. Grateful for the interruption, she helped her “big sister” get out of his frills.
In a surprisingly short amount of time, she found herself claimed.
Her back hit the wall with a light thud.
“Did you enjoy your date?”
“Weren’t you watching?” She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt. “Kyoya-mmph!”
She melted against him as his fingers caressed her skin and his mouth erased the chance of thinking. Vaguely, she realized that she should stop him before anyone might find them, like Misuzu. Because she just knew Misuzu was reporting her every action to her (overprotective) father. And her father just might become homicidal if he ever found out about Kyoya cornering her…
And kissing her, and coaxing a moan from her as his lips slid down her neck and his hand traced fire up her back. She arched languidly into his touch as he undid the top buttons of her shirt and then his teeth grazed the skin above her collar bone-a cursory warning before he bit down. The pain was electrifying.
“You’re mine.”
His whisper stayed with her even as she stumbled back into the kitchen, flustered and a little jumpy as she hid the little bruise with a kerchief she explained to Kaoru as a “tentative foray into normal fashion”.
Disclaimer: Do I look like I can draw? 'Course 's not my creation..
Notes: A little something I've been working on since book 3? Whenever it was they went to Nekozawa's mansion--she'll probably keep on growing as the Kyoya-muse strikes... [my Haruhi-muse is as impossible as the original e.e;;]
Progression
It started with an innocuous conversation in Nekozawa’s kitchen-hidden beneath the bustle of the Tamaki trying to work a tea kettle.
“Is that why the girls come to you, then?”
Kyoya blinked, and turned to really look at the girl. A slight smirk on his face, he raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you ask?”
Haruhi shrugged, the sleeve of her borrowed pyjamas falling off her slim shoulder. Her face bland-she never planned on letting Kyoya know of the desire that rushed her body before she realized his premise-she tilted her head.
“Because it would make more sense than being attracted to the manipulative side you show us.”
She did not expect the frank amusement which slid onto her companion’s face. Chuckling, Kyoya reached across to adjust [Kaoru’s] pyjamas.
“If that’s what you’d like to think.” His hand lingered on her skin, before he nodded toward Tamaki. “Now, if you would rescue them before Nekozawa has reason to sue?”
“…Sure.” Haruhi turned away before either of them could realize she was blushing.
And, somehow, it had snowballed from there.
“What are you thinking of?” She gasped as Kyoya’s hand slid into the small of her back. She frowned at him, but remained in her spot.
“The night we spent at Nekozawa’s mansion.”
“Oh? What brought that on?”
She turned toward him, unintentionally forcing him to wrap her in a one armed embrace. Her face was still slightly flushed from her earlier laughter.
“How ridiculous you all were being-why would I transfer to Roberta’s for such an implausible excuse?” She continued, not bothering to censor herself. “That, and, the girls seemed to be interested in your type.”
“My type?” Kyoya tilted her face upward, then left his hand beneath her chin. “What do you mean?”
She felt trapped, suddenly. “I-they, they seemed to enjoy a loss of-“
“Control?” He smirked, leaning down. “But why did you notice that, Haruhi?” His breath brushed her face. “Or, could it be that you were thinking of yourself?”
“Mother!”
As usual, Tamaki broke the moment and Haruhi pushed away from him, cheeks red and lips tingling-
“HARUHI!”
-and found herself with an armful of Hanizuka. Grateful for the interruption, she helped her “big sister” get out of his frills.
In a surprisingly short amount of time, she found herself claimed.
Her back hit the wall with a light thud.
“Did you enjoy your date?”
“Weren’t you watching?” She gasped as his hands slid under her shirt. “Kyoya-mmph!”
She melted against him as his fingers caressed her skin and his mouth erased the chance of thinking. Vaguely, she realized that she should stop him before anyone might find them, like Misuzu. Because she just knew Misuzu was reporting her every action to her (overprotective) father. And her father just might become homicidal if he ever found out about Kyoya cornering her…
And kissing her, and coaxing a moan from her as his lips slid down her neck and his hand traced fire up her back. She arched languidly into his touch as he undid the top buttons of her shirt and then his teeth grazed the skin above her collar bone-a cursory warning before he bit down. The pain was electrifying.
“You’re mine.”
His whisper stayed with her even as she stumbled back into the kitchen, flustered and a little jumpy as she hid the little bruise with a kerchief she explained to Kaoru as a “tentative foray into normal fashion”.