At first he barely notices it: gentle, feathery touches over his shoulders, then his forearms. He's busy, he's chewing through numbers faster than Hunny and cake. The outside world had become a meaningless blur in the face of the mass amount of calculations to be done.
Then the touch strays to his sides and he jumps, startled from his accounting.
A quiet, feminine giggle sounds from behind the tall leather CEO chair he sits in. He'd forgotten Haruhi had stayed behind in the little private office to do homework. Her father, it would seem, had brought home a man recently and it was "hard to concentrate".
He smiles in spite of himself.
When those hands reach over to flutter against his ribcage again, he grabs two slim wrists and tugs- almost playfully.
Haruhi laughs, tells him to let her go, that he should really be focussing on his maths now, shouldn't he.
Kyouya chuckles deep in his chest, and she can't help but shiver delightedly at the sound.
She suddenly surges forward against the back of the chair, plunging down through the hands holding onto her and tickling just underneath Kyouya's arms. He shakes with suppressed mirth and she can see the grin on his face- she's tipped forward with the chair, its frame digging into her chest, and their heads are almost level.
Then he gives another tug, harder, and she finds herself falling. But he knows what he's doing and he somehow guides her over, and aren't the tables turned now: she's sprawled in his lap, back to him, completely vulnerable.
And he tickles her mercilessly, nimble fingers evading hers and finding twitchy spots all over her stomach. She can't stop laughing, she squirms uselessly to evade him, pushing backwards only to meet his broad chest which feels quite nice, or it would if she could sit still for just a moment.
Eventually she manages to twist and face him, and their eyes lock. She wonders how silly they must look together, dress identically in newly mussed dress shirts and slacks, and Kyouya's glasses skewed just slightly to the side. Her hands press against his shoulders, suddenly unsure of what they're supposed to be doing.
He smiles slowly, reaches up- she hadn't realized until that moment that he'd been holding her waist- and trails his fingers lightly over her chest. In school she's a boy, and it's not like she's got much to hold in the first place...
And boys don't wear bras.
Goosebumps flicker along her skin, and she sighs at the sensation.
Kyouya repeats the motion, surreptitiously attending to the two pale pink spots struggling to be seen through the white shirt.
"Kyou- What're you-"
And it's that little stutter, that oddly unsure-of-herself tone that makes him kiss her.
Their lips touch, soft. After a second's hesitation, she kisses back. His hands make more featherlight movements against her breasts and she gasps into his mouth.
He smiles into her and pulls her closer. This definitely beats accounting.