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Katsuki groaned in pain, feeling his own blood trickle down through his hair and over his forehead. He’d slipped on some wet leaves in the forest and went tumbling down a certifiable cliff and bashed his fucking head on a rock at the bottom. What great luck of his, to survive countless dangerous adventures, and meet his doom thanks to a clumsy fall. His mouth opening to take in shallow breaths, he let his head fall back and his eyes close. He didn’t want to be scared. As far as he was concerned he was just falling asleep. Just taking a nap, and when he woke up–
Someone was there. Katsuki blinked rapidly. It was dark, suddenly. Had he actually fallen asleep? How wasn’t he dead yet? But then, there it was again, feet crunching over sticks and leaves, approaching slowly, until it was right next to him. Whatever it was didn’t say anything, didn’t make any noise at all besides what Katsuki could have sworn were the faint sounds of breath, and then suddenly it was picking him up.
“Wha…” Katsuki’s neck rolled, trying to get a look at it, but it was too dark. He couldn’t see anything. All he knew was that it felt like whatever was holding him was a lot bigger than a human. Bear-sized, maybe.
Katsuki’s dazed mind thought it over for a moment, and then released his confusion, realizing he was probably just hallucinating. Head injuries did that to people. He was just having a weird dream about a bear-man carrying him off to safety, and what a nice dream it was. Its arms were warm and soft, it felt like he was wrapped in a fleece blanket to protect him from the cold, and he could almost feel the thing’s gentle heartbeat in it’s chest. He closed his eyes, deciding to succumb to his fantasy.
—
The first thing he heard was the crackling of a fire. Then, slowly, his senses returned to him. A warm, heavy feeling over him, a coldness in the tips of his ears and nose. A dull pain in his head, a soft light from under his resting eyes. He drifted back and forth for a while, listening, not listening, until the weight of exhaustion lifted off of him and his eyes fluttered open.
He was in a dark room, on a bed, several layers of blankets over him with a fireplace across from him. All the furniture was made of dark mahogany with gold accents that glinted from the fire. On the wall to his right, red curtains covered a window, keeping the light from entering the room and only adding to the warm tint of fire’s orange glow.
It was strange, because even though he didn’t know where he was, he wasn’t scared. His head hurt, faintly, but he felt so calm, and after a while of staring out at the room he drifted back into sleep.
—
When he woke up again, there was a tray of food on his bedside table. He could smell it, so he rolled over to look at it, but winced at the sharp ringing of pain in his head. It was then that he remembered what happened, and flushed in embarrassment at the realization that someone really had found him, and now they were taking care of him. From the looks of the room and painted china plates all his food sat on, he could tell they were rich, too.
He didn’t really have the energy to overthink it, though, so he grabbed the first plate on the tray, on which there was a little pile of scones. They were delicious – sweet and crumbly – and as he scarfed them down he realised just how hungry he was. He ate the rest of the platter ravenously, all a variety of breakfast foods like thickly sliced ham, boiled eggs, raspberry danishes, and a bowl of fruit over cream. Finally, he realised there was a cup of tea, too, and though he would have preferred just some water, he decided to drink it anyway, his mouth being rather dry after eating all that.
As he drank it, he felt waves of calmness overcome him, and slowly but surely the pain in his head dulled like it had been the last time he woke up.
So there was something in the tea.
But then, he couldn’t remember drinking it before? Did someone feed it to him? He once again felt flushed at the idea of someone holding his head up and helping him drink the pain-relieving remedy despite being mostly unconscious. It didn’t sit well with him to have to be taken care of like that; he’d always been an independent person.
And yet still, he felt no inclination to get up. When his meal was finished, he laid back down on the pillowy-soft bed and closed his eyes. All he really wanted to do was sleep.
—
Katsuki stirred at the feeling of something wet on his head, and opened his eyes to a dark room.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice said. “I was just changing your bandages.”
“So you’re the one…” Katsuki slurred, reaching his hand out, but the person quickly backed away.
“N-no,” they stuttered, and Katsuki retracted his hand.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, realizing he’d acted like a drunk idiot.
“May I…?” the person came closer again, and though Katsuki couldn’t see them, he assumed they’d gestured to his head.
“Mm,” Katsuki nodded weakly, allowing them to continue washing his head. When they were done, they patted him dry with a towel and then began to wrap bandages around his head, where the wound was.
“Why is it dark?” Katsuki suddenly asked.
“Uh, well, it’s night time,” the person responded.
“I slept all day?” Katsuki asked.
“Well… yes,” they answered. “Are you hungry again? I can bring you more food.”
“I’d like that,” Katsuki said, despite his embarrassing itch at allowing himself to be taken care of.
“Alright.” They tied off his bandages, and then gathered up some things from the floor and left, saying, “I’ll be back soon.”
Katsuki let his head fall back on his pillow and waited patiently, perhaps even drifting off a bit, until they returned. He heard them walk in and set something down on the table, but it was still too dark to see anything.
“Can you light the fire? I can’t see,” Katsuki said.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” they acquiesced, shuffling over to the fireplace and poking around at it before lighting a match and catching the layer of tinder. Katsuki watched the figure get up and leave silently as soon as the fire was lit, and though he didn’t see much of their features, he felt a pang of confusion at the realization that he may not have been hallucinating their size when he thought a bear-man had picked him up in the woods. It was as if a massive, eight-foot tall shadow just slunk out of the room. He didn’t know what to make of it.
—
The next few days progressed like that, Katsuki in bed, eating delectable meals from fine china at his bedside before dozing off, an herbal remedy keeping his pain down and his mind floating, and then waking up to do it all over again. He only ever saw his caretaker at night, though, and so he still had no idea what they really looked like. He did find out that his name was Izuku Midoriya, however, and that apparently he was a nobleman. Katsuki never got a straight answer about why he always came in the dark, or how even saw in it for that matter, but eventually Katsuki learned to just drop the topic. He was pretty aware that his savior was likely less than human from the few times he saw his shadowy outline or the brushes of fur and claws on his skin while changing his bandages, and if he was embarrassed about it then so be it. Katsuki was completely ashamed about how sedentary and helpless he’d let himself become, so he wasn’t one to talk.
One night, after Izuku was done changing his bandages, Katsuki didn’t want him to leave – he chalked it up to being bored after sleeping for so long – so he looked up at the beast of a man and said, “You know, you never asked for my name.”
“Hm?” Izuku sounded surprised.
“Well, it’s just funny. You’re doing all this to take care of me, and you don’t even know who I am,” Katsuki explained.
“Oh, well, I just didn’t want to pester you, in case you were tired,” Izuku replied. “I’d love for you to tell me about yourself, if you do feel up to it, though.”
“Name’s Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugou. I, uh… hm. What else do you want to know?”
“Well, what were you doing in the woods?” Izuku offered the question.
“I’m an adventurer. I travel. I was trying to get to a city just west of here, and cut through the woods to save time, and to avoid the bandits that supposedly stop people on the road around here.”
“And no one told you that the woods are just as dangerous?” Izuku asked.
Katsuki shrugged.
“Didn’t believe ‘em.”
Izuku almost sounded like he was laughing, then sighed.
“So you’re an adventurer, huh? How does one start doing that?”
“Mm… I’ve always been good with a sword, I used to want to be a knight, actually, but then I realized I didn’t exactly like taking commands. I wanted to live for myself, by myself, so I learned to cook and sew and scavenge and everything I’d need to survive on the road and left home to carve out a life for myself,” Katsuki explained. “And everything was going great until I slipped on some fucking leaves and cracked my head open.”
Izuku definitely laughed that time, but he also sounded a bit sad.
“So what sort of adventuring do you do?” he asked.
“Hm. Well, it’s always changing.”
“I’d imagine.”
“But a lot of the time people want me to kill monsters.”
“Oh.”
Katsuki paused, realizing how that might have upset Izuku, if he was right, but then he gave him a chance to correct himself.
“Do you… kill them?”
“Sometimes. It depends,” Katsuki started. “For example, dragons are actually pretty lazy, and it’s a lot easier to just bribe them with food to get back whatever things or person they stole than to fight them. Adventurers who fight dragons don’t last very long.”
Izuku chuckled a bit.
“But then, there’s nothing much else to be done about something like a giant spider. It’s a big, people-eating insect. You can’t reason with it, so either you kill it or it kills you,” Katsuki went on. “However, I’m of the opinion that werewolves are completely misunderstood. They were humans to begin with, so they don’t actually want to kill people. If you just let them fuck off into the woods to hunt deer once a month, they aren’t going to hurt you. It’s only when people hunt them in angry mobs that anyone actually gets hurt.”
“Hm. So you think they only kill out of self defense?” Izuku asked.
“I’m certain of it. I’ve never killed a werewolf, and I sure hope I’ll never have to. I don’t kill people unless they’re literally trying to kill me, and even then I’d prefer to just, you know,” Katsuki moved his arms into the position of a chokehold to demonstrate, “put them out for a bit so I can get away.”
“I see,” Izuku said, letting out a few more chuckles. “I’m afraid I’ve no experience such perilous situations.”
Katsuki shrugged.
“Why would you need to? You’re a nobleman, right?”
“Ah, yes. I suppose we’ve led very different lives,” Izuku said, then fell silent for a long while. Katsuki didn’t exactly know what to say either, so he just stared off into the black room in the direction where he thought Izuku stood.
“Well, I should go, so you can sleep,” he said, and then left.
—
They talked much more after that, every night for the next four days, until Katsuki was feeling a lot better. When he woke up the morning after perhaps his ninth or tenth day there, he found himself feeling very well, and so decided to try and get up. He did so slowly, his body weak and a bit cramped from laying down nearly all day (except when he had to use the bedpan) and teetered towards the window. It fascinated him that in all his time there, and all the time this window stood right there, he still had no idea where he was, so he pulled back the curtain and took a peek.
The light was much too bright for him at first, but then his eyes adjusted and he saw he was still in the very forrest where he had his unfortunate fall. It confused him momentarily, but then he had to chuckle to himself. Izuku was what the villagers were afraid of out here in the woods, wasn’t he? It would be just like them, to be afraid of something so obviously soft and nurturing. Not that this giant-hairy-beast-man wasn’t capable of mauling someone to death, he probably was, but not in a million years would he ever want to, and Katsuki was the only person who knew it.
—
Katsuki greatly increased his mobility over the following month and began to explore the estate, everything so ornate and excessive to him, and yet quite modest considering the sort of mansions he’d seen some richer patrons living in. It was all quite dark, too, windows shut and nothing but low firelight glimmering off unused chandeliers and broken mirrors. The other odd thing was how empty it was, and yet how obvious it was that there were other people here. He’d walk into the kitchen to see dinner in the middle of being made, but the room empty and the back door swinging as if whoever was making it had run at first sight of him, and that was just it. No one wanted to be seen by him. His sheets were finally changed the first time he left his room, but by whom he had no idea. Someone would tend his fireplace each morning, and yet manage to leave before he ever woke up. It was the most delicately orchestrated operation he’d ever seen, and out of pure respect for their commitment, Katsuki found it difficult to want to break the charade.
Except when it came to Izuku.
He clearly wanted to spend time with him, going so far as to eat meals with him in the dining room while sitting separated by a long, long table, Katsuki’s end lit by low candle light and Izuku’s so dark it obscured him. And, even though Katsuki was certain the man had servants who could do it for him, Izuku was always the one who helped him clean and bandage his injury (perhaps because it was so intimate – a strange thing to think, and yet Katsuki felt it too).
And so, after countless conversations in the dark, never quite being able to tell just what sort of beast Izuku was, he yearned to just see him in the light. It would make things so much easier; they could do so many more things together if Izuku stopped relying on the darkness.
And yet, Katsuki flushed at the notions of his own mind. He’d never been attached to someone like that, especially not someone he knew for so little time, and here he was fantasizing about a beast-man. He would never admit it, but at night, he recalled the feeling of being held in the man’s massive arms and pressed against that sturdy chest, and he wanted so badly to be held like that again. After all this time of forcing himself to do everything on his own, Katsuki craved the ginger, practically coddling attention Izuku paid him. He was getting better by the day, and while he liked being more active, he wished he had an excuse to just lie back in bed and have his head held up by a furry, clawed hand to help him drink his tea.
But he didn’t want to admit this. How could he possibly admit this? And so, no. He just wanted to see Izuku. That was all.
—
“Do you… have to stay in the dark or something?” Katsuki asked one night while they were eating dinner.
“Hm?” Izuku looked up.
“I mean, I always assumed it was because you didn’t want me to see you, but I suppose it could be that light hurts you, or something. I never considered that,” Katsuki explained, only for Izuku to go completely quiet. Katsuki sighed, then added, “You know, why you’re always in the dark every time I see you?”
“O-oh, yes,” Izuku choked out. Katsuki shook his head, a little smile on his face at the idea that Izuku might have thought he never noticed. “Er, I mean, no. I don’t have to stay in the dark. I just… chose to.”
“Ah. That’s what I thought,” Katsuki said, before garnering the courage to say the next part. “In that case I’d… really like to see you.”
He heard Izuku shift uncomfortably in his chair, before saying, “I don’t know that you would. Like it, I mean,” he stumbled. “You wouldn’t like what you see.”
Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh.
“Izuku. I told you my theory about werewolves, didn’t I? I promise, I won’t be afraid.”
“I… I don’t know,” Izuku sighed. “What we have right now is nice, Katsuki. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“Yes, what we have now is nice, but it could be better, you know,” Katsuki retorted, a flush growing on his cheeks from how unintentionally bold he was.
Izuku sucked in a sharp breath, then thought for a long, silent moment, until eventually he spoke.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “But… let me take you somewhere… more private first.”
“Oh. Okay,” Katsuki nodded, getting up without a second thought to finishing his dinner. Izuku also stood – Katsuki knew from the sound of his chair scraping against the floor – and then walked away from Katsuki, until he heard the sound of a creaking door.
“Follow me. I know you won’t be able to see, but… but I will guide you.”
Katsuki’s cheeks felt warm at that notion for a reason he didn’t particularly want to explore at the moment, but he rushed across the room regardless. He slowed when he reached the door, knowing Izuku was right there since he could hear the man breathing, and felt a furry, clawed hand gently take his own and guide him through the door and into the dark.
“Where are we going?” Katsuki asked, not having seen this part of the estate.
“To my room,” Izuku said. “The fire is lit there, so you will be able to see me.”
“Ah,” Katsuki said, somehow dumbfounded by all this. It was as if he couldn’t hardly believe it was finally happening, and all because he said something so suggestive. Did that mean Izuku… no. He wasn’t going to think about it. He just wanted to see Izuku.
He just wanted to see him.
Izuku led him down a long hall that turned and then went up some stairs, the minutes ticking by with no other sound than their footsteps on the hardwood floor, and their breaths so much closer than usual.
Eventually Izuku stopped, then took a breath.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Katsuki just nodded. He knew by now how well Izuku could see in the dark.
“Well, alright.”
The door opened, and Izuku slowly led him inside. Right away Katsuki saw the orange glow of a fire revealing the features on an elegant, but simple, bedroom, and then his eyes remained fixed on Izuku’s form as he moved further and further in, the light revealing him more and more.
And he was beautiful.
Tall, broad, and covered in a dark black fur that shone with greenish highlights, and yet still wearing a formal gentleman’s suit, tailored to his impressive form. Katsuki’s didn’t quite know what animal or creature he was, but the fur was thick around his neck, pillowing out and then back into his collar, and he had triangular, furry ears and twisted horns on his head, along with these big, green eyes that shone with anticipation.
“You’re… not afraid?” Izuku asked.
“Of course not,” Katsuki stepped forward, slowly reaching a hand up towards the thick, black fur around Izuku’s neck and petting it softly, leaning his hand on Izuku’s chest and pushing his toes up to reach it.
“Um…” Izuku said, blinking in surprise.
“Sorry!” Katsuki realized what he was doing and backed away, cheeks flushing again. “It’s, um… soft.” Katsuki bit his lip, now completely overrun with his feelings and unable to deny them now that he’d seen Izuku for real. “I…!” he started, then cut himself off.
“Is something wrong, Katsuki?” Izuku kneeled down, putting a hand on Katsuki’s cheek. “You look ill.”
Katsuki’s eyes went wide. He didn’t know what else to do, so he just blurted it out.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
—
Izuku had started crying when he said that. It was confusing at first, but when Izuku explained, it all made sense.
Izuku and everyone who lived in the estate were were-creatures, just not quite like werewolves. First of all, none of them turned into wolves, and second of all they did it every night, not just during the full moon. In addition, they didn’t have a whole lot of “animal instincts” – they were still perfectly reasonable in their beastial forms. However, people were afraid of them, so they did do their best to keep it a secret.
Until a witch came. She didn’t like how they hid, so she cursed Izuku and his household to be in their beast forms night and day until someone fell in love with him regardless of what he looked like.
And in classic curse fashion, only true-love’s kiss would break it.
So Katsuki kissed him.
Of course, it was night then, so he didn’t get to see Izuku’s human form until the following morning, and he found himself rather surprised as he shrunk, and shrunk, and shrunk until Izuku was shorter than him. Just a few inches, but still; he’d towered two feet over him for the past month and a half.
But that made it sort of fun, actually, to have this cute little man for a lover during the day, and then this big, hairy beast during the night.
And they were lovers, now. It was undeniable. Katsuki never returned to the room where he slept while injured after that night. Rather, he took up permanent residence in Izuku’s room, and was perfectly content to do so. In fact, nights were his favorite time to spend with Izuku, though it took him a very long time to fully understand that. He was just so ashamed that it made it difficult for Katsuki to embarrassed about what he wanted anymore. When Izuku was self-conscious, Katsuki told him all of those things he had longed for, to be held by those big arms, to feel Izuku’s fur under his hands and his dull claws against his scalp. Not that he didn’t like Izuku’s human form, too (it was certainly easier to kiss) but he had fantasized about his beast form for so long that the words just spilled out.
Sometimes, though, Izuku would turn his insecurities elsewhere and ask if Katsuki wouldn’t want to leave some day to get back to adventuring. Katsuki would just take one look at Izuku and laugh at that.
“No,” he’d say. “I much prefer living with you.”
After all, it was only with Izuku that he got to fall asleep in those great arms, feeling Izuku’s heartbeat in his ear, just like in his most wonderful dreams.