Bakugo slipped into the back of the auditorium. Subtlety is not typically one of his qualities, but he wanted to surprise Takara. Taking people unawares and scaring the hell out of them are in his repertoire of special skills.
No one had tried to stop him as he walked through the halls to get here. The lack of security was beneficial but disturbing all at the same time. But thankfully a place like this is not typically the target of bad people who want to commit dirty deeds.
Longing gazes, demure smiles, and batting eyelashes from pretty women had welcomed him right in. A few glares of disdain and disapproval from a few guys had pegged him as an interloper. Those nasty looks were mostly to warn him to stay away from their girlfriends who they clutched at the waist to hold them to their sides in a flashy show of insecurity. Idiots.
Bakugo sat on top of the flipped up cushion of the movie theater style seat using his body weight to force it down. Stretching out his legs, he propped his booted feet on the back of the seat in front of him to lean back and watch the musicians on stage.
Everyone was out of their chairs, the incredibly uncomfortable looking metal folding chairs, and milling about the stage. Up front, Takara stood beside a fellow musician; a man who appeared he should be in high school instead of here with professional musicians. Another child prodigy maybe. Takara Otani had been one and began performing with professionals around the world before reaching thirteen.
A smile spread across his face when he fully took in her appearance. Takara had rolled her faded ripped jeans up to her knees, leaving the cuffs uneven in size and crooked from each other on her legs. Half of her button down shirt was tucked in while the other half hung out sloppily over her hip. Her hair had been pulled up into pigtails on each side of her head. She had even taken off her shoes to complete her hillbilly look.
The young man with a violin stood beside her wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and a straw cowboy hat. He still wore his brown loafers but had at least cuffed his jeans. He had not quite invested as much effort and embraced the country bumpkin look as Takara had.
What in the hell are they doing? Must be a skit or something for the charity performance Saturday night , he thought, lacing his fingers behind his head.
When she smiled and laughed at something the conductor said, the smile broadened on his face. The muscles in his cheeks stretched beyond their usual capacity began to cramp from the unfamiliar expression.
Becoming aware he was simpering like a complete moron, probably wearing one of those dumb ear to ear grins always on Deku's face, he quickly forced the corners of his mouth downward into a frown. His facial muscles immediately relaxed after maintaining a more natural state - for him.
His stomach clenched when Takara nodded and raised her bow. She was about to play. He loved to hear her play. Only seven short chords filled the air. Then her counterpart with the violin played the same notes as if responding back to her in music rather than voice. The back and forth continued, the sound and intensity rising as they dueled with their instruments.
Bakugo checked his watch. Ten minutes until two. Soon she would be all his. His eyes went back to her on the stage, following her every movement as she pulled down her hair, tucked in her shirt and rolled down her pants. She made no move to retrieve her shoes.
They were not done yet. His belly quivered in anticipation. Joined by the entire orchestra, she and the violinist launched into a rock style rendition of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.
The hairs on his arm stood on end as an electrical energy permeated the air in the empty theater with him being the only audience member. The entire orchestra played as if their lives depended on, putting their heart and soul into the music despite the fact no one was watching save one sneaky music fan.
Goosebumps broke out over his entire body. The muscles throughout his body contracted as a vision filled his head. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be transported to a different place via her imagination.
A storm raged around him. The drums rumbled like thunder in his ears. The cymbals made flashes of lightning appear. The cold rain pattered against his skin, chilling him and making his taut muscles cramp.
Run. He had the urge to run. Chase. She is close. Run faster, the voice in his head urged him, prompting him to lunge forward onto all fours like an animal. More specifically, a wolf: a predatory canine.
Search. Find. Attack. A streak of white int he darkness caught his keen eyes. Just a ahead. She is right there. Be prepared.
In front of him there was a woman in white. Her flowing dress billowed out behind her like the sail of a ship. Her bare shoulders glistened in the blue white flare of lightning. Her rain soaked black hair lay plastered to her back.
Close. Closer still. His sharp teeth nipped at the hem of her dress so close to his snout it teased his nostrils with her heady scent of peaches and cinnamon, a blend of sweetness and spiciness.
The muscles in his legs screwed up in preparation to launch his body at her. Before he pushed his feet off the ground, she glanced back, her eyes wide but the beginning of a smile on her cherry red lips. Come and get me, she seemed to be saying with that odd little grin.
In the vivid fantasy, he sprang at her, his arms enclosing her waist and dragging her to the ground. They tumbled together for several feet. The verdant and clean aroma of the crushed, rain washed grass surrounding them.
When they came to a stop, he was lying on top of her, his chest pressed to her back and his arm trapped beneath her. He could feel her deep, labored breathing not only through her heart beating through his chest but also by the way his body lifted a few inches upon each strained inhale.
Her neck and shoulder lay bare before him, a wide swathe of milk white flesh. Extending his tongue, he took a taste of the tender skin. Her breathing changed, becoming slower and deeper. Her shuddering sigh vibrated his body.
He lowered his lips to her skin. The shaking of her body prompted him to open his mouth. The elongated canine teeth revealed when his lips peeled back glimmered in another spark of nature's sudden bright light followed by thunder reminiscent of a low guttural groan.
Then it stopped. The dream-like state halted thrusting him back into reality. The music had ended. The conductor clapped for his musicians who started clapping for themselves and each other.
"Great rehearsal people!" he could hear the man saying to them. "Saturday is going to be amazing! We're going to raise lots of money for those children. Everyone rest and relax and I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsal."
Bakugo took a moment to calm his breathing, making his heart rate and respiration return to normal before he dared to go to her. He had not expected to be taken on such a sexually charged mind-trip as a werewolf. But oh how he likes the way she thinks.
Takara faced away from him putting away her cello as he approached the stage. The conductor further distracted her by speaking to her, allowing him to sneak up behind her. The man's brilliant blue eyes met his briefly acknowledging his presence as he paused at the side of the stage on the floor level, but the older gentleman never let on to her that he was there.
"So you think we're good to go on the skit for Saturday?" Takara asked the Maestro.
"Is good, is good," he assured her enthusiastically in his heavily accented voice. "Bellissima!"
Bakugo placed his hands flat on the stage, effortlessly pulling his body up the distance almost the length of his entire body. Soundlessly his feet hit the floor bringing him to a crouching position before he stood up straight. Standing behind her, he waited patiently for a lull in the conversation before speaking.
"Hey," he said in a low voice.
The single syllable might as well have a been a gunshot by the way it made her jump. She released an ear drum bursting shriek that made the men flinch in return. Both men laughed at her while she glared furiously at the blonde who had frightened her.
"Bakugo that was just mean," she snapped, stomping her foot like a petulant terrible two about to throw a tantrum.
"You're cute when you're angry," Bakugo said which made her face turn from pink to crimson.
"Who's this?" the Maestro inquired when she did not introduce them.
"Katsuki Bakugo, sir," Bakugo said to introduce himself, bowing respectfully.
"Oh!" the man gasped, suddenly recognizing him from the fantasy scenario supplied by his cellist. He extended his hand to shake Bakugo's. "Oh, Mr. Wolf so nice to meet you."
It was Takara's turn to laugh.
"Bakugo, this is Maestro Giovanni Donati," she said once her giggling subsided.
"So are you here to take mi cara home?" the grandfatherly man asked repositioning his small round lensed wire rimmed glasses on his definitely Romanesque nose.
Bakugo thought his wispy white hair poking out all over his head made him look a little bit like Albert Eistein. If the man only had a moustache, he would bear a striking resemblance to the long dead genius.
"I'm here to take her on a date," he responded.
"A date?" Takara and Maestro Donati said in unison.
"But my cello...I can't leave it in the car," she said regretfully.
Bakugo understood her instrument is a veritable extension of her body. No more and no less important than one of her limbs. In his excitement to plan the surprise date he had forgotten about what to do with the cello.
"I will take it for you," the Maestro volunteered, standing up the case that was almost as tall as him and much wider than his rail thin body. Despite his frail appearance, he easily picked up the instrument in preparation to carry it. "I will bring it to you tomorrow for practice. Okay?"
"But what if I want to play before then?" Takara questioned him.
"No!" the Maestro yelled without turning around. "You rest. You go on date with your boyfriend. Have some fun." He stopped to turn around. Winking at them, he joked, "But not too much fun, eh?"
"See you tomorrow, Maestro," she returned, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
"Ready to go?" Bakugo asked, offering her his arm to escort her down the stairs.
"Oh, yes," she replied excitedly, putting her arm through his. "So where are we going?"
"That's a part of the surprise in the surprise date," he reminded her, leading her down the steep and narrow stairs. "He calls you Kara?"
"Mi cara," she corrected him, using an accent when saying the words. "It means my dear one. He's called me that since I met him. He conducted the first orchestra I performed with when I was twelve. He's always been like a grandfather to me. He's my absolute most favorite conductor."
"Music really has always been your life hasn't it?"
"Uh huh. I'm closer to my manager and the Maestro than I am my own parents."
"Well. you have two more people in your life who love you now," he said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He cleared his throat, his frown deepening. "I find you tolerable. Unlike most people I meet."
"Thanks," she chuckled lightly. As they stepped outside, it occurred to her he always took the bus or walked to get around. "We could take my car if we need to."
"Don't worry. We have transportation," he assured her, leading her down the sidewalk.
A gorgeous shiny red and black motorcycle had been parked on the sidewalk rather than the asphalt of the parking lot. Two red helmets with black face shields sat on the black leather seat. A picnic basket had been strapped to the small metal rack over the back wheel.
Bakugo could feel her trembling as she clung to his arm, pressing her body closer to his.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I've never ridden on a motorcycle," she admitted.
"Are you afraid?" He glanced at her to see her staring at the bike as if it were a snake that might bite her.
"No. Not really. Excited...I guess." She reluctantly let him go as he stepped toward the vehicle.
"Put this on," he ordered her gently, extending the helmet to her. "Hang on tight, and you'll be fine."
Bakugo zipped up his leather jacket as he straddled the bike. While putting on his helmet, he felt her sliding onto the seat behind him. The involuntary smile curled his lips as she enclosed his waist with her arms, pressing her chest to his back, and gripping his hips with her thighs.
He took the ride much slower than he had planned to as not to frighten her. As they neared the beach, she began to relax loosening her grip on him. At last he could breathe properly and did not feel like she was about to squeeze him in half.
As they moved along the road running parallel to the ocean, he could feel her head, the hard roundness of the helmet, pressing between his shoulder blades. He had a very specific and special place he wanted to take her to on the beach. It would take a little maneuvering to get there, but it would be worth it.
When the motorcycle transitioned from the pavement to dirt road, her arms wound around him and squeezed with the strength of a boa constrictor. Bakugo had not accounted for having a reluctant rider on this bumpy path. Hopefully she would not kill him before they arrived.
At last he reached the low grassy bluff that bordered the water. A shell covered footpath between the rocks led down to a cove. For a few hours, they would be hidden and set apart from the rest of the world.
Leaving the helmets and his jacket on the bike, he took the basket in one hand and her hand in the other to lead her to their own small private beach for two.
"Oh, Katsuki," she gasped as they stepped out onto the sand. "This is amazing."
"I was hoping you would like it," he said, putting the basket down on a big rock.
"I love it," she gushed, running to the edge of the water.
Takara took off her sandals and rolled up her jeans before running to the water. She giggled like a child as the water rushed at her feet, the white foam bubbling over her toes.
Bakugo picked up her shoes and took them a safe distance away so a stray wave would not come up and steal them away. He removed his boots and socks, then rolled up his jeans as well to join her at the edge of the water.
"So what was the deal with that little vision of yours earlier?" Bakugo questioned her.
"What do you mean? You didn't like it?" she rejoined, her voice rising in pitch as if she was disappointed he did not like it.
"No, it's not that I didn't like it. It's just that..." He hesitated, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "Do you really see me as a vicious beast who only wants to hurt you?"
"What?! No!" she exclaimed, turning toward him. She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently. "You're not a vicious beast...despite your grumpy tone and harsh words."
Takara placed her hand on his cheek, pulling his head toward her so he would have to look at her. A small, apologetic smile graced her lips. Her eyes held his captive with a tender, loving expression.
"I see you as wild and untamed. You're not ashamed to just be you no matter how rude and annoying you are sometimes," she stated with unexpected bluntness. "You're handsome and sexy and I find it hard to take my eyes off of you. You make me feel like I could hurt myself by falling in love with you because you don't need anybody."
"You're right," he agreed, turning his body toward her to face her straight on. His fingertips rested on her waist, pulling at her shirt slightly to draw her forward, closer to him. "I don't need you."
Her eyes lowered from his to the sand and her hand let go of his. His hand immediately went to her face, lifting her chin so he could see her eyes again. Their amber color glistened under a layer of tears.
"It's not good to be needy. If you need someone, that person can begin to feel smothered, crushed by the overwhelming emotions of the person who can't live without them. I want you," he clarified, his fingers clutching her shirt and pulling her forward. "I want you to be near me. I want you to be a part of my life. I want..."
His words drifted off as her eyes closed, her chin tilting upward to offer her lips for a kiss.
Takara held her breath in anticipation of his kiss. His fingers glided from her under chin over to her cheek. Edging closer to his body, the static like charge of his proximity brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin.
"Mi cara," Katsuki whispered, his breath brushing across her lips.
The same words from him carried a much different connotation. The romantic meaning of being his dear one conjured a divergent intimacy that warmed her body from the inside out.
His lips ghosted across hers, a barely perceptible contact that left behind a pins and needles sensation of excitement. Her lungs craved oxygen, forcing her to inhale a shuddering breath.
Takara kept her eyes closed as his fingertip traced the outer curve of her ear. His fingers tweaked the lobe before drifting down her neck.
Bakugo gave her another kiss square on the lips. Brief, innocent, closed mouth yet with an open heart. Her knees weakened, and she leaned into him, her palms pressing against his chest. His heart quivered under her hand. Or was that her trembling? She could not be sure.
She sighed when he hugged her, one arm enclosing her shoulders and the other hooking around her waist to hold her securely. The pectoral muscle of his chest felt taut and pliant under her cheek. His skin was warm under his shirt. He acted rock hard and cold, even looked the part. However, when alone with her, he was soft and warm and so very sweet.
"You absolutely terrify me," Takara said in raspy voice, her throat constricted with emotion.
"Why is that?" Katsuki asked, his hands stroking up and down her back.
"You're a sheep in wolf's clothing. You huff and puff and then...and then..."
"And then what?" He pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"And then you're so damn kind and soft hearted...loving. Damn," she sighed when he dropped a kiss nearer to her mouth. "You're not what you seem to be at all." She nuzzled her nose into his chest affectionately. "I can't trust my heart with a man like you."
"It's too late," he whispered in her ear, kissing just below her earlobe. "I've already taken your heart. You told me so."
Takara leaned her head back so she could see his face. His narrow eyes were almost completely closed as he gazed down at her. His thumbs rubbed across her cheeks as he continued staring at her.
Her belly clenched, the muscles tightening with an almost sickening force as his lips lowered to hers. This time he kissed her hungrily. His lips pressed against hers forcefully before lifting only to reclaim her mouth possessively seconds later.
Her fingers grabbed fistfuls of his shirt at his waist, tugging and hanging on for dear life as he decimated her emotions by ravaging her mouth. The kiss left her breathless, panting for air. Her breasts flattened against his chest as they both inhaled deeply to pull air into their starved lungs.
"I guess you're a wolf after all," she gasped.
Katsuki bent to kiss her throat, gently and enticingly nipping at her sensitive skin. An electrical shock of arousal rushed down her spine shooting off sparks throughout her entire body that left her with a pins and needles feeling all over.
"Oh, what sharp teeth you have, Mr. Wolf," she giggled seductively.
"All the better to eat you with, my dear," he rejoined, nibbling at her neck.
"My god," she murmured.
"No need to be so formal. Your majesty will do nicely," he quipped, straightening up to smile down at her.
Takara threw back her head and laughed heartily. A loud belly laugh full of mirth and so much sincerity it brought a begrudging smile to his lips.
"You irritate me so much," he told her, cradling the back of her head in his large hand.
"Why?" she asked, sobering in an instant.
"Because when I'm around you I find myself wanting to smile all the time. It's annoying as hell and hurts my face," he grumbled.
"Ooooh," she cooed, massaging his cheeks with her fingers. "I don't mean to make you get face cramps."
"Don't be stupid," he muttered irritably, one side of his mouth inadvertently raising back into a half-smile. He pushed away her hands. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."
Takara grunted. She absolutely hated how quickly he shifted emotional gears. She found it difficult to keep up with his mood swings. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled a cleansing breath to hang on to her patience and rein in her own runaway emotions.
Katsuki Bakugo is what he is no matter how infuriating he may be. For some reason, she adores him. Despite the swiftly changing emotional weather of this special force of nature, she found herself falling deeper in love with him.
Takara glimpsed at the man spreading the blanket on the loose dry sand surrounding by a semi-circle of tall, jagged black rocks. Her eyes followed every movement as he set out the sandwiches, the strawberries, the cheese, and the bottle red wine and two glasses for their picnic.
And this is why she could not stop herself from falling so deeply in love with him. In spite of the sharp words and grouchy behavior, he loved her and showed it in ways she could not ignore.
