Hitsoma Boufuu

Chapter 1

Refuto Ushiro

"Let's GO!!" Tamaki honked the horn impatiently. "We must leave before the storm starts!!" Hikaru (or Kaoru) turned the key in the lock of the house and bounded over to the car, jumping in beside Kaoru (or Hikaru). He slapped his twin a high five and started whooping as they sped off down the road.

The dust from the car was still rising in the humid air as Haruhi unlocked the door from inside. She stood in the driveway of the little vacation bungalow and looked at the empty spot where the Host Club car had been, then at the trail of dust.

"Ah. They forgot me," she deduced, in that calm way she always did when a normal person would be freaking out. "Well, they will come back sooner or later." Knowing Tamaki-Senpai, sooner rather than later…

She glanced up, worried, at the darkening sky, the fat, pregnant black clouds hanging low, and then turned and reached for the handle of the door just as it swung inside. Ootori Kyoya stood there, the shadow of the doorjamb covering him. He stepped aside to let her in, and, as she passed, she told him what had happened.

"They left without us." She spoke quickly, trying to minimize the time she had to spend standing beside him.

"I see," he murmured, and his glasses flashed with reflected light. She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind, or at least she imagined she could. They dare forget the Shadow King? They will pay for this when they return for us… She shuddered and continued inside.

For the rest of the day they both kept to their own areas of the bungalow, studiously avoiding each other while they waited for the sleek black Hitachiin limo to pull into the drive. She mentally cursed; she knew that a vacation organized entirely by Tamaki would turn out like this! Why had they all agreed to let him rent a bungalow on the lake? Why on earth had they agreed to let him drive there and back? Ayah!

Eventually, the sky darkened enough that she went up to her bedroom, because, even if it wasn't night, it meant the storm was arriving, and she would prefer the reaction to that to take place in private…

As she passed Kyoya's room she purposely ignored it, not even glancing inside. She padded down the hallway and into the bedroom she was supposed to have vacated for good by now, and quietly shut the door.

Kyoya sat at the window in the armchair, studiously staring with glaring intent at a spot on the glass. He tried to drive all thoughts of her form his head, the way she looked in the sundress Tamaki had insisted she wear, how resigned she looked when she walked inside after discovering their abandonment, the fact she had just walked past his door and not spared him the quickest glance! He groaned and hit his head on the window. Why was it so hard to ignore her? Every thought he had turned in on itself, so convoluted it was impossible to tell where it had began, but easy to see that it ended at her. One of the few things in life that confused him, another being Nekozawa from the Black Magic club and Renge-sama's love of culture, was the way he felt about Haruhi.

He longed to stand up and go to her, to tell her his feelings, if only to express them before they tore him apart, but then he remembered what had happened the last time he had expressed himself, that night at the beach… That night had been a stormy night as well. Could history be repeating itself? Her words then floated into his head unbidden.

Senpai would get no merits from sleeping with me…

He remembered the acute despair he those words had awakened then, as well as the maniac laughter he had barely repressed, and he felt again his disappointment reawakened as she walked right by him at the door earlier and almost yelled in frustration. But Kyoya had been trained himself to show as little emotion as possible, and the feelings stayed inside him, bottling up until they threatened to make him explode. He abruptly stood and pulled his shirt off, climbing into the crisp sheets of the bed to try to sleep, to try to disremember the last time he had been alone with Haruhi…

Kyoya finally rose from the bed sometime after midnight. He had tossed and turned for the past two hours, trying to fall asleep, and when the storm started a few minutes ago, he lost all gumption for sleeping. Surely Haruhi, though, would be asleep now. He walked down the hallway and cracked her door open, peering in.

The room was pitch black, even darker than Kyoya's room, because the thick drapes had been pulled over the window, blocking out even the unnatural glow of night. Thunder rolled through the sky and lightning flashed, illuminating the room. The silhouettes were all as they should be, but… Where was Haruhi?!

Kyoya bounded into the room, tripped over the rug, and landed on his face on the floor beside the bed. Another CRASH of thunder and flash of lightning exploded, and revealed Haruhi curled up on the floor beneath the bed, knees tucked under her chin and fists pressed to her ears. She cried out at the thunder and Kyoya barely thought as he whipped her out and wrapped her in the quilt folded at the bottom of the bed.

Fujioka Haruhi is afraid of thunder!

He crushed the tiny bundle to his chest. He could feel her convulsing as every beat of thunder shook the house. She instinctively pressed herself against him, her nails digging into his skin. He almost forgot how incredibly close she was in his fear for her. He felt frenzied and panicked that Haruhi, who never showed any emotion other than irritation and, rarely, mild fondness, could be scared to such a degree. So he held her tight, trying to offer her comfort in her mindless terror, And, as the storm eventually softened to a light rain, and the thunder faded with the lightning, she relaxed, and fell asleep, still cradled in his arms.

He felt her warm breath whisper as her lips brushed his chest, and then she was asleep. He settled back against the bed head, resigned to spend the rest of the night sleepless, his need for her remembered now that the danger was past.

It was going to be a long night.

Haruhi awoke to birdsong, he body warm and content. As she slowly regained her senses, she realized that the reason for her warmth was pressed against her back; Kyoya. The quilt that had separated them the night before now lay tangled around her ankles and his legs and both pairs of bare, pale feet. His left hand curved around her waist and rested on the junction between the top of her leg and her hip, his right just beneath her breast. His breathe blew warm against her neck. She relaxed in his embrace.

She knew he was asleep, knew that he couldn't feel anything other than tolerance for her; why else did he studiously avoid her eyes? And yet, despite the deductions her mind told her, she couldn't stop the irrational train of thoughts. She could always control herself before. How had he come to be her weakness, the one gap in her overly rational way of life? How had this beautiful boy, this beautiful stone and ice boy, come to be the one she cherished above all others?

Mother, I am so confused…

And now, for once, she let the emotions rush unchecked, imagining what could have been, might have been, could still yet be. But, no, that made no sense…

And then Kyoya stirred. Haruhi immediately stilled her body, evened out her breathing, trying to feign sleep. He moved his hands from her body and she felt the despair welling up from her heart, from the deep void that had opened there, a void that widened as he carefully climbed from the bed and walked toward what she presumed was the window. Did he have that little tolerance for her presence after all? Must he hate her that much? Her fingers clenched on the pillow and she blinked furiously.

Haruhi felt the tears welling up and a cry wrenching its way up her throat, but she fought them down, steeling herself for the new day; another day spent holding herself away from every thought of him. She slowly roused the long forgotten parts of her body; her toes, her knees. She moved slowly as if only just waking up. She rolled over and blinked groggily, seeing Kyoya's profile at the window, outlined in red and orange light. He glanced over.

"Gu-tenmorugen, Haruhi-sama. I trust you slept well?" he asked coolly. She blushed, realizing he was implying her astraphobia attack last night.

"Hai, senpai," she nodded. "Thank you for helping me."

"Does anyone else know?" he inquired quietly, already turning back to the sunrise.

"Tamaki-senpai does," she told him, equally quiet, staring longingly at his back now that he couldn't watch her, so she saw it stiffen at the mention of the Host Club President.

"For how long?"

"Since the host club went to the beach, senpai."

He turned on her. "Stop calling me that!"

She blinked, confused.

He strode to the bed and braced his hands on either side of her head. "I don't want to be 'senpai' to you anymore! I never have! I want to be with you, Haruhi!" His dark locks fell over his face, and she could see his eyes unveiled by his glasses now. They were dark with some untold emotion. He was breathing heavily, his face anguished; one of the first times she had seen him look anything other than coolly confident or condescending.

And her mind involuntarily flashed back to that night Tamaki-senpai had discovered her fear, before he had arrived, to when Kyoya had caught her after dinner and tried to convince her it did, in fact, matter whether she was a girl or a boy. He was now in the same position; his hands near her head, his knees pulled up on either side of her waist, his bare chest stretching out appealingly in front of her. Then, she had not been so hopelessly infatuated and had been able to quietly dissuade him from his course, trying not to scream 'yes, yes, YES' At the top of her lungs.

"Haruhi, please," he whispered urgently. "I need you. Please say you do, too!" And she decided then and there, and she pushed herself up with her arms, and she silenced him with her lips. He gasped, then responded eagerly, warmly, his mouth parting and shaping itself around hers. He tasted like cinnamon and spearmint and the essence that was him, Kyoya, and she reveled in him as their tongues tangled together. They stopped holding themselves up with their hands and fell to the mattress, finally breaking the kiss to breath.

They stared into each others' eyes, exhilarated. Kyoya, panting slightly, dropped the last shards of the marble façade he kept up around others. And he smiled, a true smile, not a manipulative half-smile, a real, true, happy smile. Haruhi felt such joy she kissed him again. They were almost too lost in one another to notice the slam of a car door and the shriek of a frenzied Tamaki.

"MY DAUGHTER!!"

"We are not telling them about this," Kyoya broke away to tell her breathlessly.

"Hai, Senpai," she murmured.

"Kyoya."

"Hai, Kyoya-san. Gurache."

End

Hitosama Boufuu – Another Storm

Gu-tenmorugen – good morning

Hai – yes

Gurache – thank you

Refuto Ushiro - Left behind

Alot of people seem to like this story and want it to continue. Problem is, I have no clue what to write next. If you want to earn my eternal friendship and gratitude, click on the 'review' button in the bottom lefthand corner of your screen. Now, write a review and give me a suggestion about what should happen next. Thank you!!

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