DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Haruhi Suzumiya series nor are these works done for any sort of profit. I am merely dabbling for fun. All rights belong to the original author and various corporations.
Note: Set in some unknown time in the future, but NO spoilers exist. I say future only because Kyon and Haruhi haven't really gotten to this point yet.
Written for the 30kisses LJ challenge (but I am still waiting for confirmation from a mod). Theme 30: 'Kiss'.
For Kyon, kissing Haruhi was always an interesting experience.
It wasn't always pleasant. Half the time she had to force it on him, either by a direct command ("Kiss me NOW, you idiot!"), or by physically yanking his tie, wrenching his head down to meet hers. In fact, now that he thought about it, saying it was only "half" the time was being more than nice. Haruhi seemed addicted to kissing him, although he never could quite figure out if whether it was because he was good at it or if she just liked knowing she could kiss him any time she pleased
It wasn't always sweet. She seemed to enjoy using it just to mess with him. If she was losing an argument, she'd kiss him until he gave in. If she wanted to distract him, she'd pop one right on him. If she was sick of his sarcasm, she knew the perfect way to get him to shut his mouth. If she was just plain bored, it was time to pucker up. It was like a game of cat-and-mouse—except it was slowly making him feel like a soldier in a minefield, expecting a hit at any moment. She loved keeping him on his toes, he assumed.
It wasn't always gentle. Kyon quickly grew accustomed to odd bruises and red marks popping up all over his body, so frequently that he was often unable to say when exactly he got them. There were simply times when they found themselves alone in the clubroom and before they even had a chance to speak some form of protest she was on top of him, pushing him against the wall, knocking over chairs when he tried to sit on the table to better support her weight. Time moved too quickly, too harshly, on these occasions for him to pinpoint which nips on his neck would become hickeys, to gauge if she bit his ear hard enough to leave teeth marks, to feel what would be invisible and what would leave a scratch.
And it especially wasn't always welcome. Sometimes all he could do was yell at her afterwards. She kissed him without a care in the world who was watching,: the Brigade, their classmates, his family (he hadn't met hers yet). Sometimes they would just be walking down the street and she'd pull him back and stick her tongue in his mouth before he could say a word. It was beyond embarrassing, it was cruel. She knew he hated being put on display like that, having to hear the squeals and the giggles of schoolgirls passing by or feel the stares of Taniguchi and Kunikuda and Koizumi and Miss Asahina – Nagato, thankfully, always kept her eyes to herself, usually refusing to look up from her book. It was very nearly unbearable.
Kyon often wondered why he let it go on. Whether to himself or aloud to Koizumi, he'd go on and on about how it wasn't worth the stress, Haruhi was an evil overlord with too much time on her hands to dote on concubines, and the world be damned if he was going to kill himself just for its safety when it may very well be endangered by something as childish as the cafeteria running out of her favorite dessert anyway. He knew he was being very useless and silly, but it did make him feel better, and it distracted others from seeing the real reasons he let it go on.
After all, no one needed to know that occasionally it was pleasant, those times when he snuck up behind her as they were walking to school and her lips tasted of grapefruit or whatever she had for breakfast. Or when he interrupted her attempts to catch snowflakes on her tongue outside in the courtyard, his jacket closed up over her own. Or when she gently, softly brushed his forehead to wake him when he fell asleep during class.
No one needed to know that occasionally it was sweet. She was actually willing to concede the fight, she was distracting him from a bad exam, she was pleased by some joke he made, she noticed he looked down. They were small, loving treats to boost his morale, and, admittedly, sometimes he went the extra mile in sadness or excellence just to get one.
No one needed to know that occasionally it was so gentle he was amazed it was the same girl. She was merely sitting beside him on the grass, lightly but lovingly tickling him, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. She came to him slowly, the kisses were long and warm, and just a few seconds seemed to last a lifetime.
And no one most definitely needed to know that even when he was embarrassed as hell, just the idea of turning a kiss down made his insides burn. That occasionally, his lips felt dry and cold, his mouth and hands empty, and her kiss was like the earth welcoming the sun after a long, hard winter in some ancient myth.
After all, according to Haruhi, life should be full of interesting experiences.
I think I lost a line here, but I can't tell if it was supposed to go away on Audley's orders or was just lost. Oh well, it seems to flow regardless.
As usual, much applause and gratitude goes to my beta, Audley, who is awesome and currently knee-deep in fan fiction from me. She's slowly trying to dreg up the will power to tackle the final chapters of "Teardrops of the River Lethe", so please think really hard and telepath her some good vibes for that.
Until we meet again.