Fandom: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya
Characters: Haruhi, Kyon/Itsuki, Mikuru, Yuki
Word Count: 2,525
Spoilers/Warnings: If Haruhi sexually exploiting the members of the S.O.S. Brigade for her own ridiculous purposes bothers you, flee now.
Summary: In Kyon's mind, Haruhi's latest plan to film him and Itsuki in a gay porno was easily the worst fundraising idea she'd had yet.
Notes: Written for the September 13 prompt for springkink : The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Kyon/Itsuki: filming a porno - “Do you think they’ll let us screen this next year?” “No! No, I don’t!”
Kyon was walking innocently from class when he was suddenly captured violently by the necktie and dragged, choking, down the hallway.
“Question!” Haruhi announced cheerfully. “What group hasn’t the S.O.S. Brigade advertised to in our fund-raising efforts?”
“Ack! Khargle!” Kyon hacked.
Haruhi continued to march him down the hallway by his necktie obliviously. A few of the students they passed gave Kyon pitying looks. “That’s right: fangirls! Do you know how much money the average fangirl spends on doujinshi in a given month?”
“Wurgle, kah!” Kyon’s face started to go blue, and he began flailing his arms ineffectively.
“The S.O.S. Brigade can’t afford to ignore that capital! It’s bad for publicity!” Haruhi came to an abrupt halt in front of their club-room door. “So, take off your clothes.”
Kyon finally caught up to Haruhi enough to loosen his necktie. He took several deep, fortifying breaths, savoring the feeling of being alive…and then he realized what Haruhi had said. “What?”
“Come on, strip!” Haruhi ordered like it was nothing unusual. Actually, from Haruhi, it really wasn’t that unusual. She grabbed Kyon’s necktie again and tried yanking it the other way this time.
Kyon pulled free before he could be strangled again. “I’m not stripping in the middle of the hallway at school.” Sometimes, he marveled at the things Haruhi got him to say.
Haruhi frowned and put her hands on her hips like she was being entirely reasonable and Kyon was being difficult for no reason. “Bucketfuls of fangirl money are at stake here! I mean, it would be better if we used someone cuter, true, but you’re all I have to work with. So take off your shirt.” She proceeded to attack Kyon’s buttons.
“Stop that! Stop! Ow! That’s not a button!” Kyon did his best to valiantly fend Haruhi’s hands off, while every single other club stood outside their doors and stared at the spectacle of Haruhi trying to rip Kyon’s clothes off.
“These things wouldn’t happen if you’d just cooperate,” Haruhi scolded him.
“I’m not—I’m not—Not there, I’m ticklish!” Kyon finally managed to pull away and catch his breath. He considered it a brave struggle; only three of his buttons had succumbed to Haruhi’s assault. He took another fortifying breath and then said, as resolutely as he could, “I am not letting you strip me.”
Haruhi pouted and then, suddenly, a bright smile lit up her face.
That smile was never a good thing. Kyon gulped.
“Of course!” Haruhi agreed, newly enthusiastic. “It’s better if Itsuki does it, anyway. Come on,” she grabbed Kyon by the wrist this time, “let’s start filming, and we’ll worry about the stripping later.”
“Filming?” was all Kyon had time to say before he was hauled into the club room and the door slammed behind him.
He was immediately greeted by Itsuki’s smiling face. That smile that was even worse than Haruhi’s smile. It also didn’t help that Itsuki was sitting half-naked in the middle of a very large bed, which was made up with gaudy, purple silk sheets.
Kyon froze, blinked, and then said very carefully, “Where did the bed come from?”
“Is that really the first thing you can think to say to me, Kyon?” Itsuki practically purred. And then, to make things worse, winked.
“How did you even fit it in here?” Kyon persisted. “It’s too big to fit through the door and—” He paused when he saw Mikuru, wearing her bunny costume, by the window. “I don’t want to know what the video camera is for, do I?” he said wearily.
Mikuru blushed and apologized. “H-Haruhi said that if I filmed, she wouldn’t make me participate.” She sniffled helplessly. “I’m still not entirely ruined for marriage yet!”
Haruhi caught Mikuru up in a hug that was more like a stranglehold. “I hate to waste such obvious assets behind the camera, but if you’re onscreen”—she gestured to Kyon—“then Mikuru’s the only one left to film.”
“What about you?” Kyon eyed her suspiciously.
“Of course. What about Yuki?”
Yuki didn’t even look up from her book in the corner.
“What about Itsuki?”
Itsuki winked at Kyon again. “I’m your costar!” he announced happily. There was just no way that much cheer could be genuine.
Kyon sighed wearily. “Look, if you want me to strip on camera, there’s no way—”
“Don’t be silly,” Haruhi cut him off. “I don’t want you to strip on camera.”
It was such a relief, Kyon should’ve known the other shoe was about to drop.
“I want Itsuki to strip you on camera.” And, with a forcible shove, Haruhi sent Kyon flailing onto the bed.
Kyon ended up with his face right in Itsuki’s lap.
“And action!” Haruhi announced.
“We’ll save that part for later.” Itsuki helped Kyon up out of his lap, but ended up pulling him so close that their faces were only inches apart. “For now…” He began slowly undoing the buttons on Kyon’s shirt.
Kyon started flailing again and tried to pull back, but Itsuki moved with him, and Kyon ended up falling on his back on the bed with Itsuki on top of him. Somehow, during their fall, Itsuki succeeded in completely unbuttoning Kyon’s shirt and removing his tie. He was clearly much better at that sort of thing than Haruhi was; Kyon really didn’t want to dwell too much on why that might be.
“Don’t worry,” Itsuki breathed huskily against Kyon’s cheek. “I’ll be gentle…”
And, at that point, Kyon finally couldn’t take anymore. “What kind of movie is this?” he demanded, lurching back up and out of Itsuki’s cephalopodian grasp.
“Cut! Cut!” Haruhi exclaimed impatiently, hands on her hips once more. “It’s a gay porno,” she informed him, “duh! What else do you think the fangirls would pay this much for?”
“What?” Kyon liked to think that he never screeched. But he had to concede that he probably screeched just that once.
“Since you and Itsuki are the only guys the S.O.S. Brigade has, you’ll have to do,” Haruhi concluded.
“It’s perfectly logical when you think about it like that,” Itsuki whispered right in Kyon’s ear.
“Gah!” Kyon said again, just for good measure, and inched away again. It was uncanny how Itsuki always managed to sneak in so close like that. “I’m not gay,” he complained, which – all things considered – was probably one of the stupidest things he could’ve said.
“That just makes it better,” Haruhi said. “You don’t know you’re gay yet, because you’re the reluctant uke. But, once Itsuki coerces you into trying it, you’ll completely turn, although you’ll be too embarrassed to admit it. I’m thinking that, if the first part is a success, we can make a whole series. Do you think they’ll let us screen it at next year’s Cultural Festival?”
“No! No, I don’t!” Kyon exclaimed.
“A pity,” Itsuki purred, having once again slipped his way back into Kyon’s personal space.
“Can you knock that off already?” Kyon gave him an annoyed look and inched even further away.
“Knock what off?” Itsuki asked with false innocence.
Kyon turned back to Haruhi. “One: I am not going to ‘turn gay.’ And two: I’m not the uke, anyway!”
“I’m fine with that way, too,” Itsuki whispered in Kyon’s ear yet again.
Kyon thought that maybe he’d become immune to Itsuki’s lack of personal boundaries. Oh god, what if he was becoming gay? No, he assured himself hurriedly. No, that was ridiculous.
“Of course you’re the uke,” Haruhi brushed Kyon’s arguments off. “It’s the uke’s job to do nothing but complain the whole time.”
Kyon opened his mouth to object, considered this argument, and froze.
“See?” Haruhi insisted. “It’s the role you were born to play! Well, it would be better if you were more moe. Can you moe it up a little?”
“No,” Kyon tried to object further. “No, I—”
“Action!” Haruhi announced.
“I’m not doing this!” Kyon complained.
“Don’t worry.” Itsuki had once again managed to worm his way into Kyon’s lap without Kyon noticing. It was starting to become very disturbing. “I’ll make it good for you.”
“I—Mmph!” Kyon’s voice of reason was cut off mid-syllable by Itsuki’s lips.
“Give it some tongue!” Haruhi directed.
Kyon managed to wriggle his way free. He generally liked to think of himself as a composed sort of person. But Itsuki’s mouth had been kissing him. “Okay, this stops right now,” he put up his hands in warning. “Mikuru, stop filming.”
Mikuru wibbled. “B-But then she’ll make me…” She whimpered pathetically for good measure and proceeded to look even more miserable than usual in her bunny costume.
“Yuki?” Kyon demanded.
Yuki didn’t bother to look up from her book.
“Yuki! Stop this!” Kyon tried shouting. Not that it worked any better.
Haruhi was shaking her head sadly at Kyon’s dreadful performance. “No, no, no. Try to keep it in character. Mikuru and Yuki and I aren’t even here. It’s just you and Itsuki, and he’s lured you back to his home after school and overpowered you and forced you onto the bed.”
“How on earth did he manage to do all that?” Kyon said. “I could take him any day.”
“Mmm, yes,” Itsuki agreed rapturously. “Yes, you could…”
Kyon gave him a wary look. “This doesn’t even make any sense.”
“It makes sense because you’re the uke and you secretly want it!” Haruhi instructed. “In fact, Itsuki? Add that to your dialogue in the script.”
“There’s a script?” Kyon asked skeptically.
“I know you secretly want it, Uke,” Itsuki purred and pounced.
“My name is Uke?” Kyon objected and flailed anew under Itsuki’s weight.
“We don’t want to be too subtle or highbrow,” Haruhi informed him. “We need to maximize our audience.”
“Okay, I am not doing this,” Kyon said, as unamused as he ever got.
“You have to say it with feeling,” Haruhi corrected him. “Like, ‘Oh! Oh no, Seme! S-S-Stop! It hurts!’” She emoted overdramatically. “Say it just like that.”
“Stop this right now!” Kyon was starting to get annoyed.
“No, that’s still not right,” Haruhi sighed. “Like this.” And she reached out and fondled Mikuru’s breasts.
“N-N-No!” Mikuru squeaked and blushed. “S-S-Stop!”
Haruhi paused and thought it over. “Okay, don’t worry about your dialogue,” she told Kyon. “We’ll just have Mikuru dub it over later.”
“But she’s a girl and I’m not,” Kyon pointed out.
“Yes, but you’re like a girl on the inside, so it’s symbolic or something,” Haruhi waved him off.
“I thought you didn’t want to be too subtle or highbrow?”
“And action!” Haruhi announced again right over him.
“You never cut,” Yuki said in perfect monotone from the back of the room.
“Even better! More action! Come on, Itsuki, give it some heat. You’ve wanted Kyon all this time, and now you’ve finally lured him into your bed!” Haruhi instructed.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you make that face?” Itsuki succeeded in maneuvering his way between Kyon’s legs again.
Kyon gave him the blankest look he could manage. And he was quite the expert on blank looks, if he did say so himself.
“Come on, work with me here,” Itsuki whispered in Kyon’s ear so the others couldn’t hear it.
“Are you crazy?” Kyon demanded in an equally furtive whisper. “Why are you even cooperating? Last time Haruhi even got a hint of me getting too close to someone else, she nearly rewrote the entire universe as we know it.”
“Yes,” Itsuki whispered back, “but Mikuru was a girl. I’m a boy.”
“So shouldn’t that make it even worse?” Kyon insisted.
Itsuki blinked at him. “You don’t read a lot of yaoi, do you?”
“No!” Kyon agreed vehemently and really wished that he didn’t know that Itsuki did.
“Yes!” Haruhi cut in happily. “That’s the kind of delivery I want! And nice job with the blush, too!”
Kyon blushed even more at the suggestion that he was blushing.
Itsuki pitched his voice loudly enough to be heard by the camera and crew once more. “Just lie back and enjoy it.” And then his hand slid somewhere it really, really shouldn’t go.
“Okay, yeah, that’s it.” Kyon all but leapt out of the bed. “This is over right now.” He found his shirt on the floor and hastily threw it back on.
Haruhi glared at him. “But think about all our lost club revenues!”
“Don’t care. Not doing this.” Kyon took great satisfaction in redoing his tie.
“I should have known you’d spoil everything,” Haruhi sighed. “Okay, back-up plan! Mikuru and Yuki! It’s yuri time!”
“No,” Kyon said firmly and caught Haruhi by the wrist, “not that, either.”
Haruhi frowned. The universe trembled in anticipation.
“We must have plenty of still shots to sell,” Itsuki suggested brightly. He slithered off the bed, somehow magically beshirted once more, and wrapped camaradely arms around both Haruhi and Kyon’s shoulders. “Let’s make it a BL photo fundraiser!”
Haruhi considered this skeptically for one moment and then perked right up. The universe breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s get those printed off right now! Especially the kissing and the blushing scenes. And the stripping…”
Kyon buried his head in his hands as Haruhi whisked herself off, enthusiastically listing every single embarrassing picture of him that would soon be everywhere around school.
“S-S-Sorry,” Mikuru said meekly to him as she handed the camera over to Haruhi. “If it hadn’t been you…” She whimpered at the thought, which was so cute that it prevented Kyon from getting too annoyed that she hadn’t returned the favor of stopping Haruhi’s random acts of molestation, when he’d saved her dozens of times now.
Yuki still hadn’t even bothered to look up from her book.
“A pity we never got to finish our scene together,” Itsuki breathed in Kyon’s ear. “It would’ve been fun.”
“Come on, Kyon!” Haruhi paused in the doorway and tapped her foot impatiently. “Are you going to help me get the paper to print the photographs or not?”
“And,” Itsuki added huskily, “don’t think I didn’t feel how excited you were getting by the end there.” His hand, once more, began drifting in the direction of where he’d groped Kyon’s theoretical excitement.
It was either say behind with Itsuki’s wandering hands or help Haruhi plaster nude, gay pictures of himself all over the school for the entire student body to mock him.
“I’m coming,” he hurriedly informed Haruhi and chased after her.
“Some day soon,” Itsuki promised and winked yet again.
Kyon all but fled, slamming the door behind him.
“I still don’t get it,” Haruhi sighed as they went to raid the printer room. “Being tricked into bed and forced down didn’t turn you gay or make you secretly want it at all?”
“No,” Kyon insisted vehemently and tried to subtly readjust his trousers and not blush.
Thankfully, Haruhi didn’t notice. That left Kyon plenty of time to rearrange his universe back into something remotely resembling sanity.
“So, do you think we could blackmail the baseball team into having a gay orgy on camera for us?” Haruhi pondered.
For certain values of sanity, of course.
As always, feedback is most appreciated!