The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.
― Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi
O.O
As for as Uraraka knows, Bakugou Katsuki has always looked at the moon like it badmouthed his mother.
To him and all his kind, the moon is not the kinder sun that the other monsters see it as. It's a time bomb, mercilessly counting down the days until some beast hidden deep inside them demands to emerge.
It must suck for them, to say the least. She and the other monsters have it easy, for to them the moon is their night light, a great lantern held by some god that illuminates their nocturnal haunts and favorite spooky graveyards. It's the succubi's red alley neon sign, the vampires' romantic candlelight, and the disco light of ghosts.
To werewolves, it's tax season.
"It's not all that bad, really." Mina reassures the other concerned students of Class 2-A, Kirishima nodding along with every sentence, "It's part of who we are, in the end. It's why Yaoyorozu has to find a human male at the end of the month to sing to, or how Iida needs to burrow in the nearest graveyard at sundown."
"Or how Todoroki and I need to find blood every few weeks." Uraraka adds, trying to get some smiles on the others' faces. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, yeah?"
From his seat, Bakugou glares at them all, his hands shoved deep within his pockets, and Uraraka thinks to herself with a frown that he would more likely eat a wasp nest than laugh openly with his classmates.
Unlike herself, an apple-cheeked vampire who prefers to giggle rather than brood moodily in the darkness, Bakugou Katsuki oozes pure werewolf. His scowl is animalistic even at the best of times, and his very posture, hunched like he wasn't meant for bipedal movement, casts an ominous silhouette that scares their freshmen classmates.
"Would it really kill you to smile once in a while?" Uraraka scolds him after yet another freshman ghost scoots off in terror in the wake of the werewolf's wrath. Bakugou throws her a sideways glance, and when she doesn't budge, shows his teeth.
"The kid was talking some big shit." He says, in that annoyed rasp of his. "Had to take him down a peg."
Uraraka studies his face. Bakugou looks tired, his eyes bloodshot and his face drawn. He looks like he hasn't slept for days, the bite missing from his growl and his limbs heavy.
"Are you okay?" She peeks up at his face, concerned. "You look more like a vampire than I do."
Bakugou growls and starts down the hall to their classroom. "You look more like a vampire than fuckin' Sparkplug an incubus."
"We're defeating the stereotypes. And you're dodging the question."
"I'm fuckin' fine, jeez." Bakugou snaps a finger at the window, through which the sun is shining down from behind some puffy white clouds. "It's just almost full moon, so my fuckin' bones are rearranging and it's making me goddamn cross."
Uraraka stifles a giggle. "Since when are you not cross, Mr. King of Explodo Kills?"
"That was from middle school and I told you I'd slit your throat if you ever used that name again, Moon Face."
And even though he's throwing a half-hearted fist in her general direction, Bakugou coughs, glaring at the window where the sun is shining over the bustling school grounds. Uraraka barely dodges, glancing up into his face where the lines of his face are drawn in the sunlight.
He notices her concern, and instantly the old fury crosses his features, erasing the weariness and apprehension. "…What the fuck are you looking at?"
Jumping backwards, Uraraka throws up her hands in mock defense. "Oh, nothing!" She glances at where everyone is filtering back to their respective classrooms, and gestures. "Do you want to go back to class together?"
Bakugou squints at her suspiciously, his red eyes glaring down into her own warm brown gaze. He grunts in response, and begins to follow her "Y'know, Mina said that drinking diluted wolfsbane with lavender can help with the ache."
"That's bullshit, ingesting wolfsbane in concentrated amounts could kill us."
"Diluted, Bakugou. You ever heard of cures in small portions?"
"Ever heard of mindin' your fucking business?"
Uraraka laughs, a hearty golden brown laugh, and Bakugou's scowl deepens.
"Fuckin' unnatural." He mutters under his breath, following her as she skips down the hallway, a lumbering beast following a waifish creature in a hallway of sun.
O.O
The full moon swells bright one hazy night, and several students disappear from the dormitories that night, their haunting howls startling their classmates from their sleep.
"They sound so spooky and sad out there." Hagakure's pajama sleeves curl around her torso, shivering. "Poor Mina, she looked exhausted last night."
"It's just what they are." Jirou says flatly. "It's not much different than any of us."
"Now, now, we just have to be supportive of them when they return." Yaoyorozu chides her gently. "Some nice cool blankets and hot drinks would be perfect for them. Oh, and some clothes."
"Are we going to look for them, ribbit?" Tsuyu croaks. "Mina said they tend to wander when they've shifted. I'm worried they might fall asleep right there in the woods."
"We'll find them." Uraraka nods determinedly. "It's what friends are for, yeah?"
In the morning they find Mina and Kirishima on the dorm's front steps, snoring loudly and as naked as the day they were born, but Bakugou is nowhere to be seen.
"I don't know where he went off to." Kirishima yawns, sleepily accepting a pair of shorts from a beet red Yaoyorozu. "I think he might've gone further into the woods."
Uraraka sneaks up to Bakugou's room and unceremoniously steals the nearest black skull t-shirt and pair of cargo shorts she can find. Deku looks ready to pass out when she triumphantly returns, but then again, the ghost always looks like he's on the edge of passing out of existence.
"Do you need someone to accompany you, Uraraka?" Iida demands loudly, casting a doubtful look at the ominous woods just across the dorms. "If Bakugou were to still be transformed, who knows what would happen to you?"
"It will be fine, Mom." Uraraka says with a mock aggravating air. "I'll just throw his clothes at him if I find him all beastly. Take care of Mina and Kirishima, okay?"
She dives into the woods with the swiftness of foot gifted to her kin. The footprints on the earth tell a story all of their own; human toes digging into the dirt, only to widen as they plunge further into the brush until huge clawed paws plant deeply into the springy soil of the woods.
Uraraka pauses near a particularly large paw print. Her small foot in its muddy white sneaker is half its size. An unbidden shudder rakes through her and she presses on all the more determinedly.
"Bakugou!" She calls, her voice echoing eerily through the empty woods. "Bakugooooooou?"
She slides to a startled stop. A tree with three straight claw marks down its dark trunk, the white of the inside bark stark against the outer bark, looms into view. Several other trees scattered further before her reveal their own nasty scars, the talon marks nearly as long as she is tall.
Uraraka draws in a breath. She'd seen the other trees at the forefront of the woods; smaller gouges, neater rakes, but not with the same intensity as these. Here, there are dead tree limbs strewn everywhere on the forest floor; broken into many pieces, ravaged and worried until it is practically timber.
"You must've been very angry, Bakugou." She observes to the tense silence of the woods. "But then again, this is your default setting after all."
She stiffens suddenly. A waft of something unmistakable drifts towards her, and every nerve ending in her system stands on edge. Her hands clench in the fabric of Bakugou's t-shirt, and her eyes flash from warm brown to a predatory scarlet. Her lips curl.
Uraraka forces herself to relax, unclenching her fists and shaking her head until the bloodlust has ebbed. It's not even human blood she's smelling. This is…something different, something thinner and headier. But she's startled at how strongly she's reacting. Has it really been that long since her last feeding…?
Undeterred, she walks forward, letting the blood guide her onward, deeper into the woods until the dorms are far behind her. She stumbles over uncultivated land, over tree roots that curl out of the black soil like claws reaching for her feet, over jutting rocks that scrape her ankles and leave her hopping and hissing a few words out of Bakugou's book.
It is in a ravaged clearing she finds him, curled in on himself like a broken bird. There are scarred trees everywhere, bark chips lying around Bakugou like some sort of crazed confetti. The ground is gaping wounds, furrows in the earth so deep she nearly trips over them.
His back is to her, bare and furless. His ragged pants echo in the silence of the woods.
And the blood…Uraraka has to bite her lip to keep from violently shivering at the beautiful metallic scent. His legs are covered with deep scratches, most likely from the undergrowth whipping at his feet, but even the slightest whiff is enough to make her shiver.
"Bakugou." Her voice is breathy, nearly delirious with the bloodlust she's determinedly keeping at bay. "Hey, Bakugou, can you hear me?"
He flinches, like she's dumped a bucket of cold water all over him. "…Moon Face." Bakugou sounds exhausted, like he's clawing for every breath he's breathing in. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Bringing you back to the dorms." Uraraka says lightly, gingerly walking around the trenches of earth he's dug up. "I've brought your clothes."
Bakugou groans, rolling over. Uraraka yelps and squeezes her eyes shut, flapping his shirt and pants vaguely in his direction. "I-I could go find some bandages for you if you'd like-"
"No!" Bakugou snaps, and then he audibly winces, shifting uncomfortably. "Augh, dammit, give me my clothes."
Eyes still screwed tight, Uraraka inches forward until she feels a hot hand on her wrist. Calloused fingers, very human fingers, carefully pry her fists open until she knows to let go.
There's some rustling, a hissed expletive, but after a few moments he brusquely informs her, "You can look now."
Uraraka opens her eyes. Bakugou is frowning at her, but not in an unfriendly way. It's calculating, almost shrewd. She suddenly finds herself wishing that she had at least combed her bedhead a little.
"Your eyes are red." He says curtly. "It's because of my blood, isn't it?"
"Wha-?" Uraraka panics and shakes her head violently, squashing down the bloodlust until it's but a whisper in the back of her mind. "I'm sorry, I should've been more careful."
"You shouldn't be." He turns and begins stomping into the forest, towards the dorms. "It's just who you are."
Bakugou's frank reply leaves her standing stunned in the middle of the clearing, but she quickly regains her bearings and begins hustling after him. "Hey, wait up!"
"The others will get all mother-hen crazy if we don't hurry our asses up, Uraraka." Bakugou is sloughing through the underbrush with a briskness that has even her struggling to catch up. "Come on."
Uraraka growls and pushes forward. The world is starting to spin around her, but she ignores it and doggedly traces Bakugou's steps.
She's so focusing on keeping the pace, the world swaying around her, that she doesn't notice that Bakugou's stopped until she runs straight into his back. "Oomph. What…?"
"Sit down, you idiot." Bakugou sounds exasperated, but the hands on her shoulder are steady as he pushes her down to a cross-legged position on the soil. "You're about to fuckin' keel over."
"I'm not!" Uraraka says defensively. "You're just running too fast! Who wakes up and just books it home at that sort of pace? No one, I tell you!"
"Who follows a crazy werewolf into the woods all by her lonesome and doesn't expect consequences?" Bakugou sounds different; hoarser, lower, and with something like sin coloring his voice a deeper, darker color. "Come on, Uraraka, I know you're goin' clean out of your mind with me all scratched up oozing blood."
"I'm not…clean out of my mind." Uraraka crosses her arms, her eyes flaring red without her knowing. Bakugou watches the struggle of brown against red until he loses his patience, grabs her arm and pulls her to him with a swift yank.
She yelps, and hurriedly stifles her moan at the now stronger scent of blood falling off him like leaves off an autumn tree. "What are you doing!"
"Giving you what you need, you goddamned unnatural idiot." Bakugou mutters. He turns his neck to the side, pulling his shirt collar to the side. Uraraka's eyes go wide at the sight of his skin; bare, gleaming with sweat, and flushed red with what could either be exertion or a blush. Her throat goes dry.
He watches her reaction; her mouth has fallen open, revealing the tips of her teeth sharpening visibly before him.
"Heh. Thought so." Bakugou mutters, smirking. "Hurry up, my neck's crampin'."
Uraraka claps a hand over his mouth. "Stop distracting me." She swallows to keep her voice from sounding too raspy. She licks her lips, his own narrowed eyes following her every movement.
"I need you to tell me when I'm taking too much." Uraraka takes her hand off his mouth. "If you can't say anything, hit me, slap me, anything to make me stop, okay?" Something like fear, tentative excitement, and absolute want is overwhelming her common sense, and the look in Bakugou's eyes isn't helping.
It's his turn to swallow, and Uraraka watches the movement of his throat with predatory fascination. "Okay." He rasps.
The last chains of her restraint break.
Uraraka cups his cheek, an utterly human gesture, before she lowers her mouth onto his neck. She can feel one of his hands come to grip onto her waist for purchase as her teeth sink into his neck gently, deep into his muscles as her lips caress his skin.
He groans. It's not one of pain.
Uraraka vaguely registers the hand on her waist loosening, his powerful body underneath her melting as her arms slide around him. Bakugou's arms slide to brace himself on the forest floor; he's got pine needles digging into his hands.
She all but cradles him as he goes loose, as the sudden euphoric sensation of it all heightened by the taste of his blood; unexpectedly sweet and shadowy, like the dark side of the moon grinning down from a black-red sky. It's like drinking starlight, like drinking the headiest of wines.
Soon Uraraka's pulling him towards herself with a greed she hasn't felt in years, weaving her fingers through his unexpectedly soft hair as Bakugou's breathing begins to slow like he's falling asleep. His eyes are lidded, and she finds herself fascinated with the way his lashes tremble as his dark dark eyes, ever trained on her, begin to drift shut…
Uraraka wrenches herself away with a gasp, reeling backwards until she lands uncomfortably on her heels. Beneath her Bakugou collapses, gasping for breath as he stares blearily up into her face.
"Holy shit." He gasps. "That was…"
"Crazy, huh?" Uraraka gives him a little grin and carefully places her finger on his pulse point; it flutters widely against her fingertip like the beat of harried wings. "It's never as dramatic as everyone makes it out to be."
"I beg to fuckin' differ." Bakugou studies her face through a haze of post-donation weariness, something new and soft in his half-closed eyes. It makes her feel warm, like the new blood that's running through her body. Uraraka helps him up to a sitting position. He leans heavily against her shoulder, his hot sighs tickling her neck.
They make their way home. It's slow going, with her all hopped up on fresh blood and him still worn out from his transformation. But the energy between them feels looser, like the comfy atmosphere of two familiars who learned a lot more about each other than they did before.
"I'm still woozy as all fuck."
"Let's get some hot food and water in you, okay? Ooh, and then a big nap. I think the others are making lunch for us back at the dorms."
"Who's in charge?"
"I think Yaoyorozu."
"We better hurry our asses up then, that rich bitch doesn't know how to work a stove if it rolled over and played dead at her feet."
"Hey, that's mean! Yaoyorozu can make a lovely cream of onion soup!"
"Heh." Bakugou's arm tightens around her shoulders, and Uraraka lurches sideways with a startled yelp, relaxing as she feels him bury his face in her mussed hair, like an irritable but apologetic golden retriever-colored werewolf.
"Even after all that, you still don't smell like a vampire." He mumbles through a mouthful of brown hair, and Uraraka giggles softly. "Then what do I smell like?"
A pause. "I dunno. Kinda sweet." Another pause, this time accompanied by furious blushing. "It's not bad."
She laughs and licks her lips with a sudden wicked smile, Bakugou's eyes following every salacious movement. "Thanks." Uraraka smirks. "You don't taste so bad yourself."
Bakugou skids to a stop and unslings his arm from around her. Just when she's wondering if she's overstepped, he steps forward and unceremoniously and clumsily pushes his lips to her forehead.
"You get me so confused, Uraraka." He mutters as he pulls away. "It's getting on my nerves."
Uraraka stares up at him, her face burning as a slow, dopey smile creeps across her lips. She can hear the hidden message beneath the callousness.
Thank you.
Bakugou huffs out a sigh, reaching down to grab her hand. "Don't make that face, you unnatural freak." He pulls her forward, and she skips to accompany his loping strides across the forest floor. "You look like the goddamn moon when you glow like that."
"I thought you hated the moon."
"I…Aaaah, dammit, I don't fucking know anymore. You just remind me of it."
She beams up at him, and Bakugou gives her a halfhearted scowl that slowly melts into a small grin as he tightens his grip on her hand.
"Fuckin' unnatural." He mutters, as they walk out from the dark forest and onto the sprawling grounds of their school, lit by the rising sun.