Rated T for future heavy use of alcohol and sexual references

That being said, enjoy :D

It was the end of my first week at Ouran Academy, a university famed throughout the country for its splendour - from the enormous grounds, to the food, to the gold-plated front gates it was a school to marvel at. I was only amazed to have found myself there as scholar student. Not that I was at all complaining, as I sat there in my little campus accommodation house, listening to classical music on my age-old walkman with only one headphone that worked, with my baggy jumper pulled all the way over my bare feet with my knees to my chest, as I perched upon dad's lumpy armchair - that he'd insisted I take with me. I took the occasional sip of tea from my favourite red mug, and twitched my toes in time with the music - which I kept having to turn up due to the combat it raged against the blasting dance music from the party blaring from the enormous house next door.

Being only a week into term, it was a sort of "welcome, grab a drink, get off your head and make some friends" gathering that was arranged to get people to know each other. But any kind of person to go to a party like that wasn't really anyone I'd want to know. Besides, what with my home-cropped hair and old-man glasses, it's not as if anybody would really want to get to know me. I'm not a personal believer in judging beauty from the outside, but I'm all too aware how many people are. I figured parties and such were for pretty, popular people who would find even more people to adore them; being neither pretty nor popular, I wasn't inclined to attend.

All the fraternities were obliged to go, and similarly seeing as how I wasn't yet in a fraternity I had not deigned to make myself known for the list. Nor did I even want to be in a fraternity: I was more than happy as introverted little me; more than content to stay in my little house instead of one of those massive things full of noisy other people; more than at ease to actually be allowed to get my work done without distraction. I had my entire life after graduation to meet interesting people and do exciting things, but while I was still at school I really needed to focus on my work.

Not that it was easy to do so with some American rap artist chanting out some infernal song that clashed with your Chopin. Did nobody have the common courtesy to recognise that some people don't want to listen to what your anaconda wants?

It's enough to drive you mad.

And, to be perfectly honest, it nearly was.

It was then, as I removed my earphones with a huff and tossed them onto a nearby cushion that had somehow made its way onto the floor, that I heard something I'd not expected. There was a very loud, very inconsistent, sound - a knocking sound - at the front door. I directed my head towards the sound, but didn't move. There it was again, a loud and insistent (but not at all rhythmic) knocking.

"What on earth…?" I muttered aloud to myself, drawing my legs out from beneath my jumper and standing up. As the knocking, at least I think it was knocking, persisted, I wound my way between the paraphernalia of still-semi-unpacked boxes and unrealistically high stacks of books towards the entrance hall. I turned once there, and found my way to the door. Then the knocking stopped. I put my eye to the peep-hole, but saw nothing but black - clearly something had been taped over it to obscure it, or something of the sort. "I hate people who do this sort of thing…"

Thinking I might at least catch a glimpse of who it was, I pulled open the door. Almost immediately I was knocked to the ground by an extremely large something.

"Oh, Jesus!" I gasped in shock as It slumped against me, barrelling me over and pinning me down against my own doorstep. I quickly realised the something was human, albeit a freakishly tall one - and freakishly heavy, too, as I was barely able to shift it from on top of me. With the one hand that wasn't pinned beneath me, I poked it hard in what I thought was it's side, and it groaned noisily. "Oi…!"

"Hmm?"

"Can you get off me, please?" I asked agitatedly, trying again to push them off of me. The very tall person managed to raise their, probably very drunk, head. I saw they were a boy, perhaps a year or so older than me, with black hair and near-black eyes, eyes that seemed lost in mine in their headily drunk confusion.

"Who are… you…?" they asked in a very low, very quiet voice.

"I - I'm Haruhi Fujioka, and can you get off me, please?" I repeated. They blinked slowly, but didn't say or do anything. Then the strange, drunk boy smiled, and it was actually a very nice smile, set against his chiselled face. It was essentially quite a handsome face, with strong features framed by that jet black hair. I'm sure I would have actually appreciated it more had he not a) been on top of me, and b)so drunk off his messy black head he didn't know he was on top of me.

"Haru…hi…"

"Yes?" I tried again to perhaps push them off me, but my attempts were halted when I felt his hot, alcohol-tinted lips pressing down against mine. Not being accustomed to being kissed, let alone by a drunk, handsome stranger, I didn't exactly know what to do. My only real reaction was to painfully extricate my trapped hand from beneath me and use both arms to roll the poor boy off me.

"Ha… you're great…" he hiccupped as I hastily sat up. Oh, God, I thought to myself, and I stood to face him, lying flat on his back upon my cheap wooden floor. He was hiccupping, almost giggling to himself, with his head off at a jaunty angle and one leg bent up at the knee. He looked such a mess, but he'd come from somewhere, and that somewhere was where I had to return him.

"Come on, you useless lump," I said under my breath, bending down and seizing his great hands in mine and starting to pull - he was limp and stupid in his drunkenness, and as I tugged on him he flopped upwards and, with a loud hiccup, vomited down his front. "Oh, lovely…"

"You're great… Haruhi…" he said again, grinning as I stepped on his feet and pulled with all my might to force him to stand.

"That's nice," I replied shortly, before grunting under the inordinate weight of him as I slung one of his muscular arms over my shoulders. Brilliant, I thought. There was no way I'd be able to get him to wherever he needed to be, if I were to ever find out where that place was - not bloody likely considering the state he was in. Like a toddler that was first learning to talk. And walk, judging by the way he staggered about. Amazing, how alcohol can reduce something so massive into something so helpless. "Guess you're just going to have to stay here, then," I panted as I tried to direct him down the short hallway to the sitting room where I'd just been a few minutes before, now thinking back to the relative quiet I'd almost been enjoying. I supposed the boy must have come from the party next door, because now he was mumbling along the lyrics to the song that had just come on.

It was difficult enough to negotiate all the clutter in the room alone, even with my slight frame, and quite literally impossible with this lumbering baby that was twice my size. It was like a bull in a china shop. Except the bull had been given excessive amounts of alcohol and was now incredibly clumsy and hard to manoeuvre. Eventually, after knocking over every single stack of books I'd been sorting throughout the day, I'd managed to dump him down onto the two-person sofa - over which his abnormally long legs trailed onto the floor, and I noticed he was missing a shoe. Upon hitting the cushions, he grunted loudly, then giggled again to himself. Then he fell about in quick succession with a number of noisy hiccups.

I rolled my eyes as I turned and trudged back through the bomb-site of a sitting room, going to the front door and closing it firmly. For good measure, I pulled across the chain on the lock - I knew the things that could happen when people get drunk. I didn't want to wake up to find more than one passed out student in my house from an after-party they'd decided to rage in my tiny kitchen.

I passed back into the doorway of the sitting room, leaning against the doorframe and folding my arms as I inspected the boy who had ended up on my lumpy chequered sofa. I sighed, shaking my head at the prospect of cleaning vomit from the cushions.

"Haruhi…?" the boy said, his voice muffled by the cushions his face was buried in. I stepped over, squatting down onto the balls of my feet in front of his head.

"What?"

He turned his face, looking at me through one bleary black eye. His smile wobbled drunkenly.

"You're cute…"

"What?" I asked, taken aback. But any response I'd intended to receive was cut short by his quiet snores, as he very quickly managed to fall fast asleep. For a few moments I was too surprised to say anything, not really wanting to wake him up again for fear of him throwing up on me - or worse, kissing me. But after a while, as I saw the surprising softness of his chiselled face in sleep, I began to smile. I heaved a great, weary sigh, and looked at the clock just above the sofa on the wall. "Well, good morning, at least," I whispered to him upon seeing it was past midnight. He gave a short snore in response. My smile twitched a little wider, and I straightened up, still looking down at the black-haired boy. "Oh, just what am I going to do about you?"