[NSFW] FIC - “Sunlight Through Leaves” (Patreon)

BKDK | Vampire AU | Shinto priest-in-training Katsuki x Vampire Izuku | explicit sexual content

In which Izuku is your friendly neighborhood vampire, and Katsuki is a student/priest-in-training whose vocabulary steadily devolves into only the words, "What the fuck?"

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SUNLIGHT THROUGH LEAVES

CHAPTER 1

A wooden stake marked the path. It had been driven crookedly into the earth, slanting to the left. Faded black characters were painted down the front. A short ways up the path, obscured by the overgrowth of trees, rested an unremarkable iron bench. Katsuki drove past it every evening on his way home.

Today, a boy sat slouched against the rusted metal, feet crossed at the ankles and a mess of dark hair tinted green shielding his face. It was the first time in years Katsuki could recall seeing the bench occupied. He slowed his motorcycle as he approached, the drone of the engine making the boy glance up.

Katsuki couldn’t see his face. The glow of sunset had segued into twilight, shadows spreading like spilled ink.

In the past week, several people had come to the local shrine with sightings of a spirit lurking up the mountain path. He was meant to accompany his guardian tomorrow and perform a purifying ceremony. Katsuki wasn’t especially superstitious, but there were certain beliefs he couldn’t avoid, having been raised by a priest and tailored to become one himself after University.

With a frown, he stopped just shy of the marker and cut the engine so he wouldn’t have to shout over it. “Hey! It’s dangerous to be here after dark.”

The possibility of spirits aside, the kid should at least be wary of threats of the human variety. Katsuki could take care of himself, but the boy hardly seemed older than a high schooler. Then again, the light was fading and all Katsuki could make out across the distance was a pair of large eyes.

The boy blinked at him, but said nothing. Katsuki scowled. He hated having to repeat himself.

“Oi,” he said. “You hard of hearing? Get going.”

The boy looked confused. Katsuki sneered and started his bike. He’d done his civic duty. If the kid wanted to sit around purportedly haunted mountain paths after dark, then that wasn’t Katsuki’s problem. He pulled onto the road and didn’t look back.

#

The boy was there again.

Neither Aizawa nor Katsuki had felt anything out of place that morning as they’d headed up the path, but they’d performed the purifying ritual anyway to pacify the locals. Superstitions aside, Katsuki shouldn’t have cared what the kid was doing sitting alone on that rickety bench, but something compelled him to stop again, an invisible thread tugging his wrists to veer his bike onto the shoulder of the road. Feeling obligated to do something always put him in a sour mood.

He parked his bike, and with the air of someone put out of his way, stalked past the wooden marker and ducked the grasping tree branches.

The boy looked up, and Katsuki got his first clear look at him. Through the part of green curls, the soft gleam of a jewel rested against his forehead, held there by a thin golden circlet. Weird, but everyone had their eccentricities. Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to wonder about it.

A smattering of freckles dusted his cheeks, but he wasn’t as young as Katsuki first assumed, possibly even another University student. His eyes were luminous in the failing light, green and vivid like sunlight through leaves. It was unusual enough to give Katsuki pause. He supposed if anyone had happened across him at twilight and been greeted by those eyes, they might have believed they were seeing something otherworldly.

But the idiotic look on his face, coupled with his rumpled t-shirt and jeans, spoke otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” Katsuki asked brusquely.

The guy blinked stupidly. Then, for no apparent reason, the guy smiled. It was disarmingly sweet and immediately raised Katsuki's hackles.

“Wow,” he said, voice soft. “You’re really pretty.” Those unnerving eyes moved slowly across Katsuki’s face, which was set into a scowl. “Did you know your hair kind of glows?"

“Are you fucking high?” What the hell was this extra babbling about? If that was supposed to be a pick up line, it was the worst he’d heard yet.

The guy only laughed. Katsuki’s heart did not stutter at the bright sound.

“I’m Izuku,” he said and shoved his hand out into the space between them.

Katsuki gave Izuku’s hand a cursory glance before green irises drew his gaze again. They seemed to peer through him, piercing under his skin. That invisible thread around his wrist grew tighter the longer he stood there. Annoyed with himself, Katsuki took a step back and blinked to clear his thoughts.

“Whatever, don’t get yourself kidnapped by a tengu.” Katsuki turned away, regretting coming up here at all.

Something cold touched his wrist. Katsuki jerked back, his elbow already halfway to Izuku’s face just on reflex. He drew back in time, bewildered when he realized the touch was Izuku’s hand. Fingers rough with an assortment of scars wrapped around his wrist. Izuku’s skin was pale, marked by a patchwork of even paler scars, and startlingly cold. It was late summer and the nights had grown cooler, but not enough to warrant the leather gloves stuffed into the pocket of Katsuki’s jacket.

“I was about to grab dinner. Want to join me?” Izuku asked. The guy was straightforward, Katsuki would give him that.

And yeah, fine, Katsuki conceded that his smile was doing something weird to his insides. That, in combination with the intensity of his gaze, reeled him in as surely as a fish caught on a hook.

Katsuki didn’t like it one bit. Disquieted, he smacked away the offending hand and instantly breathed easier. “I was just asking what you’re doing here. You’re an eyesore. I ain’t interested in being your babysitter.”

“O-oh. Sorry, I was just… You approached me,” Izuku said, sounding confused and indignant.

“Won't make that mistake again,” Katsuki said and turned back down the path.

“Hey, blondie!” Izuku shouted. “Aren’t you going to at least tell me your name?”

Katsuki twitched at the nickname. Anger simmered in his gut, an explosion building in his chest. But he’d spent a lot of time learning to control his temper, and he wasn’t about to lose it now because of some weirdo in a fucking crown. No matter how cute he was.

Grinding his teeth, he pretended to give the question a moment’s thought. “No,” he said. He threw a leg over his bike before glancing back to ensure the guy wasn’t following him.

Izuku hadn’t moved from the bench, but his face was turned toward the evening sky, everything but the silhouette of his profile hidden by the distance and the deepening shadows. The last of the sunset lit the lines of his circlet in fire, just enough to illuminate his closed eyes and pinched brows.

Katsuki sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. Fuck.

#

Aizawa’s house was a ten minute drive from the shrine. It was convenient on late nights when he was called out for emergencies, however rare. When Katsuki wasn’t praying or assisting in purification rituals, his duties consisted of menial tasks, like dusting or sweeping. If he was especially bored, he visited the neighboring dojo for kendo practice.

He didn’t mind the monotony though—it was preferable to getting mixed up with shit like extras too stupid to know when to go home in the evenings.

Katsuki ground his teeth together as Izuku’s arm tightened around his waist. The idiot was plastered to his back on the bike, his nose buried in the hair at the nape of Katsuki’s neck. Izuku claimed to have never ridden a motorcycle before so, aside from an initial reprimand, Katsuki endured the foreign feel of another body pressed up against him, warmth collecting between his shoulder blades even as cold hands braced against his ribs and stomach.

He pulled into the driveway, glad to see the lights in the house were on, which meant Aizawa was home and likely setting the dinner table by now. Izuku hopped off, the sudden lack of body heat leaving him briefly chilled and annoyed for no reason other than the fact Izuku was proving to be one huge disruption in his neatly ordered life.

He reached past Izuku and grabbed his book bag from the metal basket above the tail light. His fingers brushed over the latch that kept the hidden compartment beneath closed. Inside it, Katsuki kept a semi-automatic pistol. He’d learned to shoot when he was young, after thieves had attacked the priests and tried to loot the shrine. Aizawa had dealt with them easily, but decided Katsuki should have a means to defend himself beyond his fists.

Which had been a great act of foresight because there was something about Katsuki that seemed to invite trouble. At first, it was because he couldn’t keep his temper in check or his fucking mouth shut. Nowadays, it had more to do with the way he looked. As a result, Katsuki had dealt with his fair share of assholes—he’d been one of them once upon a time—and made it a point of pride that he could stroll through streets that others knew to avoid because Bakugo Katsuki only ever fought to win.

Fortunately, he’d only had to use the gun twice: once when he was fourteen and outnumbered against a group of older boys who tried dragging him into an alley, and again when he was seventeen when some fuckwit tried to steal his bike and attacked him with a lead pipe. Since the priests didn’t condone killing, the men he’d shot were now short a finger or three.

Katsuki toed off his shoes in the genkan and saw Izuku do the same. He wondered for the thousandth time what the hell he’d been thinking inviting Izuku to have dinner with him and Aizawa. The idiot had looked so forlorn, and the priests were always preaching shit like discipline and virtue and saving clueless idiots from unlikely evil spirits, and the words had been out of Katsuki’s mouth before he could retract them.

“I’m home,” he shouted towards the kitchen where he could hear Aizawa moving about.

Sure enough, a head of dark hair pulled messily into a ponytail popped out from around the corner. “Welcome back. Who’s your friend?”

“He’s not a friend,” Katsuki said.

Aizawa gave him a blank look, but Katsuki didn’t elaborate. Izuku went ahead and introduced himself with a wide smile.

Aizawa took it in stride. He was very good at taking everything in stride. The long hours he spent at various shrines throughout the city had taken their toll so that he always looked like he was either stoned or in desperate need of sleep. He returned Izuku’s enthusiastic greeting with a placid but warm welcome and shuffled him into the kitchen to sit at the table.

Katsuki washed up and joined them a moment later. Izuku was chatting happily with Aizawa, his plate piled high with an obscene amount of rice and stew. Katsuki did his best to ignore him.

“Are you a student?” Aizawa asked him.

Izuku shook his head and, thankfully, had the courtesy to swallow his food before speaking. “Nah, I’m just in town visiting an old friend. I don’t think I’ll be sticking around for long.”

“That’s a shame,” Aizawa said. “Katsuki hasn’t brought a new friend home in years.”

“He’s not my friend.” Katsuki felt it important to press this point.

“Katsuki, huh?” Izuku said. His grin was just shy of triumphant. Katsuki didn’t respond, but Izuku appeared not to mind as he worked to clean off his plate.

“Show some restraint,” Katsuki snapped. When was the last time Izuku had eaten? He didn’t look malnourished, and recalling the muscular arms wrapped around his waist, Katsuki could confidently say Izuku hadn’t felt it either. But he consumed food like a man starving.

“I like a healthy appetite.” Aizawa offered Izuku the rest of the stew, which Izuku accepted with a word of thanks around bulging cheeks.

As he held out his plate, the sleeve of his t-shirt lifted just enough to reveal a mass of scar tissue that began at his elbow, continued up his arm and disappeared beneath his sleeve. Katsuki averted his gaze, beating down the sudden and unwelcome pang behind his ribs. Everyone had shit they’d gone through. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.

After dinner, Izuku thanked first Aizawa for the meal and then Katsuki for allowing him to join them. Katsuki waved off his words and told him to hurry up and get out. He had studying to do.

Dragging a hand through his tangle of green curls, Izuku smiled and bid them a good night.

It wasn’t until Katsuki was at his desk, bent over his laptop and an open textbook that he realized he hadn’t asked Izuku if he’d need a ride to… wherever he was staying while in town. He felt a vague sense of guilt that he immediately brushed aside. If Izuku needed a ride, he should have damn well said.

But try as he might to focus on his essay, his mind’s eye kept supplying him with images of Izuku, whose presence had seemed to fill all the space around him despite that he was just shy of being Katsuki's height. Katsuki had never felt that kind of pull before—the compulsion to get closer so acute that it had been practically physical. He rubbed at his chest, disturbed and annoyed.

Shoving away from his desk, he closed his textbook and stood. He slid open the glass door to his balcony, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the cool night air.

The glow from the lamp posts in the street below muted the starlight, but Katsuki gazed up at the sky anyway and wondered if Izuku had made it somewhere safe for the night.

Fuck this, he thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose and returned inside. He had studying to do, and he’d wasted enough time thinking about a guy he would never even see again.

#

Three days later, there was a knock at Katsuki’s door. This wouldn’t have been unusual seeing as Aizawa always knocked before entering Katsuki’s room, except the knock had come from his balcony door and it was the middle of the night.

Katsuki rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the digital clock on his desk that displayed the time in neon orange. It was just after two a.m.

“The hell,” Katsuki muttered before kicking off his blanket and getting out of bed.

If it was that useless sack of bones Kaminari, he was going to throw him off the balcony. Kaminari attended University with him and had once coerced Kirishima, another of their classmates, to circumvent Aizawa by climbing up Katsuki’s balcony with a pack of beer and two bottles of hard liquor.

Katsuki would have minded less had it not been past midnight at the time and had both Kaminari and Kirishima not already been piss drunk. How they hadn’t fallen and broken their necks was a mystery.

With a mumbled curse, Katsuki jerked back the curtain over the balcony door. Bright green eyes greeted him. The curtain slipped from his slack fingers, shutting out Izuku’s timid smile and the awkward wave of scarred fingers. For several long seconds, Katsuki considered simply going back to bed.

But once he’d collected himself, he set his jaw and unlocked the door. He cracked it open, just enough to hear one another. The cold night air rushed across his bare skin, sending goose bumps up his arms. He should have put on a shirt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Katsuki demanded. “You a stalker or something?”

“Kacchan.” Izuku rubbed the back of his head, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment. Before he could say anything else, Katsuki cut him off.

“The fuck you just call me?”

“Kacchan?”

“Yeah, that. Knock it off.”

“But I like it,” he said, as if that was all the reason he needed to give Katsuki a nickname more suited to a five-year-old.

Drawing on every anger management skill he’d ever learned, Katsuki asked through his teeth, “What do you want, Deku?”

A small wrinkle appeared between Izuku’s eyebrows. He opened his mouth, probably to object to the rude nickname, and then seemingly thought better of it because he asked, “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Oh. Um…” He looked at a loss.

Katsuki glared. The wind tugged at his hair, green curls falling across the gleam of his circlet and the slender jewel blazing at its center. Izuku hunched deeper into his sweater. Katsuki thought about him straddling the bike behind him, every point of contact uncomfortably cold until Katsuki’s body heat had warmed him up.

Without a word, Katsuki pushed the door open wider and moved aside. Izuku gave him a grateful smile–Katsuki ignored the twist in his chest–and stepped through, eyes darting about the dark room.

“Thanks. Were you sleeping?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki didn’t dignify the idiotic question with a response. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

He flicked on his desk lamp, filling the room with a dim yellow glow. Izuku shut the door but didn’t move any closer, and Katsuki didn’t offer him a seat.

“Plans changed,” Izuku said. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, hiding his face behind the fall of his hair. “Just thought I’d… uh. See how you were doing. Kacchan.” He glanced up, his gaze lingering a beat too long on Katsuki’s bare stomach.

Katsuki was suddenly acutely aware of how low his pajama bottom hung on his hips. With deliberate nonchalance, he slid back into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest. He should have just locked Izuku out until he gave up and left. Katsuki had no idea why he was humoring the weirdo. He was never this fucking nice. The hell was wrong with him?

“In the middle of the damned night? What made you think that was a good idea?”

Izuku shrugged one shoulder. Then he sank to the floor and rested his back against the curtained glass door. “Dunno, Kacchan. I don’t have anything better to do, and most ideas sound good at 2 a.m. Kacchan.”

Katsuki made an aggravated sound. “Stop that.”

“But I like it. Kacchan.”

“I can’t believe I let you in,” he said.

“Got anything to eat, Kacchan?”

“Fuck off.”

Izuku laughed. It made Katsuki’s stomach flip. He scowled up at the ceiling before turning to face the wall and closing his eyes.

“I need to sleep. If you’re going to stay, be quiet and don’t disturb me again.”

There was a shuffling sound as Izuku adjusted his position on the floor. “You can turn off the light. I don’t mind the dark.”

Katsuki rose on his elbow and reached for the lamp. Across the room, he could see Izuku sitting with his side against the balcony door and his head against the door frame. He had pushed back a corner of the curtain and was gazing outside, an indecipherable expression on his face. His circlet was like a magnet for whatever light it could catch because it glowed faintly, the jewel casting golden reflections against the glass like a cluster of starbursts.

“Why do you wear that thing on your head?” Katsuki asked as he switched off the light. He sank back into the sheets, adjusted the blanket around him, and closed his eyes again. He didn’t particularly care about the answer; he was just curious. Normal people didn’t go around wearing crowns. Or climbing balconies at two in the morning.

Normal people also didn’t allow strangers into their bedroom without an ulterior motive, his mind helpfully added. He told it to shut the fuck up.

“My… uh, friend gave it to me. It was a present.”

“Huh.” Who would give a crown as anything other than a gag gift? “It’s annoying.”

“How so?”

“Because it glows.” Katsuki decided to keep to himself the fact Izuku’s eyes and the constellation of freckles across his cheeks were twice as distracting as the thing on his forehead. That was just a weird thought to have in general.

“Like you,” Izuku said, with no trace of sarcasm in his voice.

The fuck. Katsuki had nothing to say to that.

A moment later, Izuku added, “Looking at you… It’s like looking at the sun.”

Katsuki tensed. Seriously, what the fuck? Not only was that the weirdest compliment he’d ever gotten, but it was obvious to Katsuki that Izuku had it mixed up. That thought was immediately followed with another hearty ‘FUCK.‘

Out loud, he said, “Stop saying creepy shit, or I’m kicking you out.”

Izuku laughed again, a quiet, happy sound. “Yeah, okay.”

Silence settled between them. Katsuki pillowed his head against his arm and waited for sleep.

#

Izuku was gone in the morning. It was just as well. Katsuki didn’t want Aizawa getting the wrong idea if Izuku had wanted to come down with him for breakfast.

“Got another complaint yesterday,” Aizawa said as they ate their rice and eggs.

Katsuki arched an eyebrow. “They want you to do another purification?”

“At the old house up the mountain.”

“It’s a waste of time. The neighbors are just paranoid.”

“Perhaps,” Aizawa said. He drank his tea and gave no outward indication of how he felt about it. Katsuki hated it when he got all mysterious. Aizawa would confide in him eventually, which made it annoying as fuck because why not just tell him now if he was going to anyway?

Whatever. He had his own shit to do. He finished his breakfast, shouldered his bag, and left with a quick, “Later,” tossed over his shoulder.

Classes progressed as usual, with Kaminari skipping out, and Kirishima and Katsuki finding him later in the square, chatting up a girl. Kirishima forced him to attend their next class together, and Kaminari spent the full hour irritating the shit out of Katsuki until Katsuki threatened to get out his gun and shoot him. Kaminari shut up, knowing Katsuki didn’t bluff.

He didn’t tell them about Izuku. He might have been inclined to mention it to Kirishima, because even with his shitty hair style choices, he sometimes had a few things of merit to say. Also, he wasn’t a fucking gossip, but really, what was the point?

At the end of the day, his friends took the train back to the flat they shared, and Katsuki took the back road shortcut home.

Katsuki was not surprised to see Izuku sitting on the bench again. Before he’d even made a conscious decision, he was pulling onto the shoulder and parking his bike next to the stake. Izuku was already on his feet, the last of the day’s light painting the trees in orange and red.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said. “Have a good day?”

“Fine,” Katsuki said. He wasn’t interested in making small talk. “Why do you keep coming here?”

“I like it,” Izuku said. “My m—um, friend and I used to hang out up the mountain.” He shoved a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the path that carried on for several meters beyond the bench before the branches overtook it. “Long time ago.”

Katsuki looked away from him, annoyed with how difficult that single action was.

“Hey Kacchan, since you let me eat with you last time, how about I treat you this time? Have dinner with me?”

“Is eating all you ever think about?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku grinned, all teeth and good humor. “Pretty much.”

Katsuki was expecting Kirishima at his house in a few hours for a study session. The idiot needed help with math. Aizawa would probably have the table set by the time he got home. He had no reason to accept the offer.

“Get on,” Katsuki said.

What the hell was it about Izuku that made refusing him so difficult? All Izuku had to do was look at him, and his brain went fuzzy. Katsuki was petty enough that he almost changed his mind just to fuck with Izuku and the part of himself that was drawn to him.

But then it was too late as Izuku hopped on the bike behind him. He was cold again, icy fingers fluttering over his hips. Katsuki pretended not to notice as he dug for his phone. He texted Aizawa to have dinner without him, and took an unsteady breath and then another.

Then he clicked off his phone and tucked it away. As he shifted his weight on the bike, Izuku scooted unnecessarily closer, fitting their hips together in a way that made Katsuki’s stomach clench and his breath stutter. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the bike onto the road, engine roaring.

Izuku pressed his mouth to the shell of Katsuki’s ear and gave him the name of a restaurant in the city. It was a small place, nestled between two larger establishments and generally overlooked.

Izuku’s breath was warm against his neck the entire ride there.

#

What the fuck? Katsuki wondered as platter after platter of food was placed in front of Izuku.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Izuku looked at him, shrugged, and mumbled, “I’m hungry.”

“I can see that,” Katsuki said without inflection. His own meal consisted of curry over rice, which was a sizable portion, but nowhere near what Izuku was shoveling into his mouth.

Izuku was several inches shorter than Katsuki, and while you couldn’t tell with the idiot’s oversized t-shirt (which inexplicably said ‘dress shirt’ on it and nothing else), the body Katsuki had felt plastered against his back had been all hard angles and lean muscles. Katsuki couldn’t fathom where all that food went.

When, three full entrees later, Izuku was still eating with no sign of slowing, Katsuki set down his chopsticks and said, “Are you fucking serious?”

Izuku paused, cheeks bulging like an oversized hamster, and blinked at him with large, confused eyes. “Whur?” He swallowed thickly, coughed a bit, and then said again, “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Katsuki demanded, nodding at the other dishes still waiting to be devoured. "Are you one of those pro eaters or something?"

Izuku flushed, which made his freckles appear even more pronounced. “I, uh, have a really high metabolism so I never, um… feel full.” He smiled, a small quirk of his lips that was different from his usual bright grin. “But I get by.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean. There was ‘weird’ and then there was ‘weird weird.’ Izuku was sprinting past the finish line of the latter.

Suddenly, Izuku went still. He cocked his head, as if listening for something. Katsuki almost tossed the remainder of his curry at him. The fuck was he doing now?

“I have to go.” Izuku dropped his chopsticks and stood.

Katsuki watched, mute and dumbfounded, as Izuku groped through his back pocket before dropping a wad of bills on the table.

“You’re leaving,” Katsuki said, just to confirm that that was in fact what Izuku was doing.

Izuku gave him an apologetic smile that was more a grimace and then shuffled down the aisle between tables toward the exit. The glass door chimed as it shut behind him.

For what had to be the millionth time since meeting Izuku, Katsuki muttered a heartfelt, “What the fuck?”

It took longer than Katsuki cared to admit to calm his rising temper. Izuku was the strangest person he’d ever met, and considering he knew people like Kaminari, that was saying something.

What was he doing here, wasting his time with some extra who was just passing through anyway? This wasn’t like him, and he was fucking over it.

But since Izuku was paying anyway, Katsuki determind to at least finish his meal. There was no point letting perfectly good food go to waste. Maybe he’d box the extra entrees and give them to Kirishima.

#

Thirty minutes after Izuku’s unceremonious departure, Katsuki left the restaurant with a paper bag full of leftovers and found the idiot in question perched on the edge of his motorcycle, head bowed.

“Get off my bike,” he said, shoving the boxes beneath his book bag in the metal basket.

Clearing his throat, Izuku stepped aside and offered a slight smile. “Kacchan. Sorry about before, I… I had to do something.”

Katsuki didn’t even want to know. He swung his leg over the seat, settling into the worn leather.

Izuku fidgeted, a blush deepening across his cheeks. “C-can I ride with you to your house? Where I’m staying isn’t far from there.”

No, you fucking can’t ride with me after ditching me for god knows what reason, what the fuck, Deku? He opened his mouth to say just that and found he no longer had any control over himself because instead he heard himself snap, “Hurry up.”

Izuku was cold against his back, leeching Katsuki’s body heat. He smelled funny–a little sweet, a little like rust or copper.

“What’s that smell?” Katsuki asked, turning his head just enough for Izuku to catch his words over the rumble of the engine.

“What smell?” Izuku said, his breath against the curve of Katsuki’s ear.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

Izuku lifted his hand. Katsuki glanced down long enough to see several scratches that stretched from Izuku’s knuckles to his wrist, crisscrossing over old scars. They oozed blood, but not nearly enough to explain the strength of the smell.

“Stray cat,” Izuku said, by way of explanation.

Katsuki should have left him at the restaurant, and not just for the blatant lie. The entire rest of the ride home, the idiot pointed at various buildings and landmarks, muttering excitedly about what used to be there or when they were built or who the architects had been.

Great, Katsuki thought. He was also a damned nerd.

When they reached his house, a garish red jeep was parked in front, which meant Kirishima had arrived early. Katsuki pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“It’s not far. I can walk from here.”

Jaw clenched tight, Katsuki removed his book bag from the basket before shoving the paper bag full of leftovers at Izuku. Izuku gave him a look of incomprehension.

Katsuki glared and all but snarled, “Take the food, nerd.”

A slow smile blossomed into a wide, happy grin. “Thanks, Kacchan!”

#

For the next week, Izuku continued to invade his evenings. He waited for Katsuki at the mouth of the path–Katsuki entertained fantasies of simply driving past as Izuku waved for attention–and appeared on Katsuki’s balcony at odd hours of the night.

He never talked much about himself, which was just fine by Katsuki. As long as Izuku didn’t pull another dinner and ditch, or disrupt his duties at the shrine or his classes at the University, Katsuki didn’t care what Izuku chose to do with his time. He was harmless, and by his own admission, his stay was only temporary.

Almost two weeks after that first time, Katsuki parked his bike next to the stake again and watched Izuku come down from farther up the path. He was half hidden by the foliage, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of a mustard yellow jacket, the collar pulled up around his ears. His eyes were downcast, his brows puckered. Katsuki rarely saw him look anything but cheerful.

When he noticed Katsuki’s presence, his expression cleared and his mouth spread into that wide, familiar smile. He paused near the bench and gestured with his chin up the path. “Walk with me?”

Katsuki glanced westward, where daylight was little more than a glow on the horizon.

“Come on, I’m leaving soon. I want to show you where my friend used to live.” Izuku took several steps in the direction he’d come before his mouth twisted into an impish grin. “Scared of the woods?”

He knew he was being baited, of course. Even so, Katsuki got off his bike. With a scowl, he dug for the latch that opened the hidden compartment beneath his basket. He checked the safety on his gun and then tucked it into his belt. He had no intention of using it, but he still knew better than to walk into the forest after dark without protection.

“Deku,” he said as he passed Izuku.

Izuku didn’t comment on the weapon. Instead, he gave him a warm smile that made Katsuki want to hurl himself off the mountain. Did this guy have no sense of self-preservation?

Izuku matched his stride, a bounce in his steps. “The house can be hard to find unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“You talking about the house with the brick wall out front?” Katsuki asked, frowning.

“Yeah! Used to be really cool, but it looks awful now. All broken and overgrown.”

“Deku, no one’s lived in that house for centuries,” Katsuki said.

The path was growing narrower so Izuku took the lead, guiding them farther up the mountain. Even in the deepening night, his steps were sure and nimble. At his forehead, his circlet glowed dimly like a beacon.

“Have you been scaring the locals into thinking you’re a spirit, you shitty nerd? You’re causing Aizawa unnecessary trouble.”

“Heh. I don’t mean to. I’ll be out of here soon enough. I just have to take care of a few things first.”

They reached a small clearing where the path widened. The moonlight revealed miniature stone statues lining either side. He recognized the area immediately. This was where he and Aizawa had performed the purification ritual.

“Just a little farther. Past this spot and to the ri–” Without warning, Izuku stilled and spun on his heel.

The air rushed from Katsuki’s lungs as Izuku slammed into him, sending them both down in a tumble of limbs. Something blurred overhead just as his shoulder hit the dirt. Ignoring the pain that shot down his back, he immediately flipped Izuku off him—or rather, he tried to and couldn’t. Huh. That was new.

“The fuck, Deku!?” Katsuki shouted, shoving at him. Izuku didn’t budge.

Katsuki realized with increasing unease that Izuku wasn’t even paying attention to him. He had one hand on Katsuki’s chest, keeping him pinned with no visible effort, but his eyes were fixed on something to their left.

Katsuki followed his line of sight. Several meters away, at the edge of the clearing, two people stood in the shadow of the trees, indiscernible save for the glow of yellow eyes. One of them edged into the moonlight, gaze flickering from Izuku to Katsuki before he bared his teeth–impossibly long and sharp, nothing that should have been inside a human mouth.

Before he could even begin to process what he was seeing, the person–creature, demon, something–lunged. The weight on his chest lifted and Izuku vanished in a streak of neon green that flickered like lightning. He appeared a heartbeat later on top of the thing, tackling it to the ground. Katsuki rolled and sprang to his feet.

His shoulder bumped a tree, and he reached back to steady himself, the bark scraping his palm. In front of him, Izuku and the creature were a blur, fangs and claws flashing in a riot of snarls. Clods of dirt and grass were ripped from the earth, fissures of green lightning crackling around bodies that moved too quickly for Katsuki to follow. Behind them, the second creature’s eyes narrowed as they fixed on Katsuki.

It stalked forward, and without pausing to think it over, Katsuki reached for his gun. The shot rent the air like an explosion, reverberating through the small clearing. Birds took frantic flight and nocturnal critters skittered away through the underbrush. The thing he’d shot remained where it stood, one hand covering the bleeding wound at the center of its chest. It staggered, falling to one knee, then looked back at Katsuki with eyes that blazed.

“You fucking shot me!” It sounded outraged, which would have made sense if it wasn’t supposed to be dead.

Izuku had pinned the other one to the grass, the stone statues lying in ruins about them. “Are you crazy?” Izuku shouted, looking from Katsuki to the thing with a hole in its chest, those luminous eyes wide with fear. “Run!”

“I’m going to rip your throat out!” The bleeding creature rose to its feet, a dark stain spilling down its chest and stomach.

Katsuki had no idea what the fuck was happening, but his fighting instincts didn’t seem to care about an explanation. Arm steady, Katsuki aimed for its head.

With a shout, Izuku flung his opponent against a tree–there was a sickening crack upon impact–and leaped for the one advancing on Katsuki. Cursing the idiot, Katsuki couldn’t get a clean shot as Izuku wrestled it onto the grass, the creature’s blood staining them both and permeating the air with that sickly sweet scent.

“Kacchan, you have to run!” Izuku shouted again, sounding hoarse and desperate.

Behind him, the creature lying crumpled beside the tree began to stir. That impact should have broken its fucking spine, but against all reason, it was now struggling to rise on unsteady limbs. With a curse, Katsuki aimed and fired.

The bullet slammed into the creature’s skull, sending it sprawling once more against the base of the tree. And it was still moving, what the FUCK?

“Kacchan, please!” It was the way his voice broke that forced Katsuki’s gaze back to Izuku.

His eyes were lit from within, an iridescent green that glowed brighter than the moonlight that gilded the clearing, brighter even than the jewel of his circlet.

God fucking DAMN IT! If there was one thing he hated above everything else, it was running away. He wasn’t a fucking coward, and he had never backed down from a fight.

But this… this was something else, and Katsuki wasn’t stupid. He knew when he was in over his head. With another string of curses, he turned and ran.

Behind him, grunts and snarls issued through the dark, along with the low crackle of green lightning. Guilt closed around his throat, and he looked back to ensure Izuku wasn’t hurt.

He wasn’t. In fact, Izuku’s hand was buried in the chest of the one Katsuki had shot first. Everything about him seemed longer, sharper, more angular. His tousle of green curls fell across his freckled cheekbones as he crouched over the creature. Izuku growled, a sound that was wholly inhuman, before baring fangs that Katsuki was confident hadn’t been there a half hour ago, and burying them in the creature’s neck.

Holy fuck, Katsuki thought.

The next thing he knew, he was pulling up to his house with no idea of how he’d gotten there. His body must have moved on instinct. He was mortified to find his hands shaking in the aftermath of the adrenaline.

At least he could feel his gun tucked into his belt, its weight somehow jarring. He remained astride his bike, savoring the stillness, the cool air against his flushed face bringing sudden and unwanted memories of Izuku’s hands.

Taking a deep breath, he emptied his mind and focused on nothing else but filling his lungs with air.

What felt like hours later, the outdoor sconces came on and the front door opened. Aizawa stood at the threshold, outlined in the soft glow of the interior lights.

“Katsuki?”

Katsuki swallowed, hands fisting in his lap. Then, slowly, he got to his feet.

“What happened?” Aizawa asked, guiding him inside with a light hand at his elbow. His brows rose as he spotted the gun at Katsuki’s waist.

He removed it without fuss, and Katsuki watched without comment as Aizawa took note of the fact the gun had been fired. Wordlessly, Aizawa checked the safety and then set it on an end table. It looked strange there next to Aizawa’s mug of tea and an empty, painted vase.

Katsuki didn’t know how to begin, or if he could even put it into words. He kept seeing Izuku’s face—the warmth of green eyes fading to an icy glow, the sweet curve of his lips stretching over elongated fangs, the alluring sprinkle of freckles smeared with blood dyed black by the darkness.

Throat tightening, Katsuki thought back to the night Izuku had ditched him at the restaurant. He’d returned smelling like blood. Had he… then too?

Katsuki cupped his head. It was all too confusing and impossible.

Something cold touched the back of his hand, and he flinched, jerking violently back, his fist reflexively drawing into a punch. Aizawa gave him a bland smile. In his hand was a can of beer.

Katsuki swore at himself and took the beer. He chugged half of it before setting it down beside his gun. Aizawa settled onto the sofa, sipping his tea and waiting with quiet patience for whenever Katsuki felt ready to speak.

When he finally found his voice, Katsuki said, “How do you know when you’ve seen a demon?”

Aizawa looked surprised. He set down his tea. “I suppose that depends on the manner of demon. What did you see?”

Katsuki shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Aizawa’s silence stretched on for several tense seconds. Then he said, “Tomorrow, you will come to the shrine with me and pray.”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki nodded.

#

Katsuki left the latch on his balcony door unlocked that night. Izuku didn’t come.

===

CHAPTER 2

The next day, Katsuki skipped classes and spent the morning in the shrine, his head bowed in prayer. In his pocket, his phone vibrated every few hours, but he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself to his friends.

When Aizawa collected him for lunch, he stood on legs stiff from long hours spent on his knees, and they sat beneath the shade of a cypress as they ate from bento boxes. Then he busied himself all afternoon in the dojo, letting exercise and the ache of well-worn muscles consume his focus. He went home only to shower before returning to the shrine.

Soon enough, the sunlight waned and shadows stretched spindly fingers across the stone paths. Simple menial work was welcome, so Katsuki took the broom from the storage closet. He swept the wooden steps outside the shrine and the platforms on which statues of foxes, symbols of the god Inari, sat. He made his way down the walk, toward the stone stairs that led to the vermillion gates.

He could feel it—the invisible thread tied around his wrist, tugging him forward with a steady persistence that Katsuki was hard pressed to explain but felt certain Izuku was responsible for. He took his time sweeping, having not yet decided whether to answer Izuku’s call. He wasn’t a dog at the end of a leash, expected to yield and obey when summoned. If Izuku wanted his attention, he could damn well talk to Katsuki like a normal person.

He swept dirt and leaves from each step, content to listen to the distant chanting of the priests, until he reached the tall gate that marked the entrance to the shrine. With a small if exasperated sigh, he followed the pull of Izuku’s presence.

Izuku was sitting on the curb, just beyond the gate. Katsuki propped his hands on top of the broom handle and tried to reconcile the young man in front of him with the creature he’d seen Izuku become the night before.

Scowling, he dropped down onto the curb beside him. Crazy revelations aside, Katsuki didn’t fear Izuku. Despite all the times Izuku had badgered him in the past weeks, all Katsuki knew about him was that he was a shitty nerd with messy green curls who smiled too much, a surprisingly sharp tongue given his stupidly innocent face, and liked to make weird comparisons with the sun. Seeing him now, unable to meet Katsuki’s gaze and looking braced for rejection, Katsuki realized none of that had changed. The knot in his chest unraveled.

“So what are you?” he asked.

Izuku’s shoulders stiffened, and he ducked his head. Katsuki watched, his impatience growing, as Izuku’s lips tightened. He looked miserable. He had no right to look that way.

Katsuki lifted his broom and brought the dusty bristles down on the back of Izuku’s head. Izuku yelped, one hand coming up to protect himself, and gave Katsuki an incredulous look.

“What was that for?!” Izuku rubbed at his head, looking incensed.

“Because you’re acting like a moron. Now answer my question.” He set the broom handle across his lap and gave Izuku an expectant look.

Izuku made a face, and said nothing for a long while. He bit his lip, fidgeting and frowning down at the pavement between his feet. He looked like he was gathering his thoughts.

Katsuki was not the most patient of men. He said, “Hurry up and talk, or I’ll just shoot you and be done with it.” It was a plausible threat, especially now that Katsuki knew the bullet probably wouldn’t hurt Izuku. Much.

Izuku flinched, and then said reluctantly, “I guess you’d call us vampires.”

Katsuki had nothing to say to that. In his head, he scoffed—at least until he remembered the glow of yellow eyes and the fangs elongating from Izuku’s mouth and the mouths of the other demons/vampires/whatever the fuck they were.

“I wasn’t planning to stick around for this long. I was just stopping through to visit my friend.”

“Another… vampire?” The word felt strange in his mouth. Katsuki wasn’t sure he believed it yet.

Izuku nodded. “He was. Died a long time ago. His ashes are buried beneath the cherry blossom trees behind his house.”

“Fine, so why are you still here?”

With a rueful twist of his mouth, he said, “There’s been a coven of vampires hunting me for about–” He paused, looking thoughtful. “–maybe half a century now? I’ve been picking them off a couple at a time, but the ones left are a little harder to kill. Which means I can never stay long in one spot.”

“Why are they hunting you?” Katsuki asked, humoring him.

“Oh, right. ‘Cause vampires like me–nobility or whatever–have special blood, I guess? A drop of my blood can cure a normal vampire’s blood lust for days. A full drink would probably last months. And… well, if they drained me, they wouldn’t need to feed for centuries. Makes me kind of, uh, a target haha. But it’s normal, I mean, I’ve been fending off other vampires for centuries. It only gets annoying when I find somewhere I like, and it’s pretty much impossible to make friends—”

The nerd’s voice faded into a stream of muttering that Katsuki decided it best to tune out. As a guy who wasn’t quite as humble as a priest-in-training ought to be, Katsuki considered himself pretty damn smart. But Izuku’s bullshit about nobility and blood lust wasn’t making much sense.

“Vampires have nobility?” Katsuki cupped his head. Was that what the circlet was about?

“Guess so!” Izuku said with an easy smile. “I mean, I didn’t know it. At least not until Toshinori found me–that’s my friend, the one who lived up on the mountain. But he was really more like a father figure, and taught me pretty much everything I needed to survive.”

Katsuki’s lip curled. “Right, sure. So, you’re nobility.” Vampires obviously had no standards. “And the other vampires want your blood.” That would explain all the scars, he supposed.

“Yeah! I mean, I offered them, you know, donations. But I guess it’s not enough. The blood lust…” Izuku paused. His smile faded, and he looked away, those clear green eyes seeming to dim. His fingers toyed with the hem of his jeans. “Guess I can’t blame them, even if it’s a huge pain in the ass. I’m always… always hungry.” He glanced at Katsuki, a quick apologetic look. “It’s worse when I’m with you, but I can’t seem to stay away.” He laughed. It sounded nervous.

“Were you planning to eat me?” Katsuki demanded. The idea wasn’t horrifying so much as it was infuriating. He gripped the broomstick, ready to brandish it like a sword.

“No, no, no!” Izuku said, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture. “I never… no, I would never! I made a promise to Toshinori to never kill humans.”

He looked so earnest that Katsuki could only believe him. Sneering, he set the broom down again. “Fine, so why haven’t you moved on yet?”

“Because those vampires last night weren’t after me,” Izuku said. “They were after you.”

“What the hell for? You just said–”

“They were hunting me, yeah, but then they caught whiff of you and switched targets. I had to stick around to protect you.”

Katsuki gave him a narrowed look. “Why me?”

Izuku shrugged. “Something about your spirit energy. Makes your blood smell amazing. Kind of… sweet and sharp. You and Aizawa both. Really powerful spirit energy.”

“This is ridiculous,” Katsuki muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’ve been irritating me almost every night for the last two weeks because you were protecting me?”

“And cause I like you,” Izuku said, beaming. Katsuki glared. “Although I wasn’t expecting them to attack you while I was right there. I thought we’d be safe. Sorry about that.”

Katsuki waved off his words. Much as he hated to admit it, Izuku had nothing to be sorry for. If what Izuku was saying was true, Katsuki should have been thanking him. The idea was unappealing. “So if you don’t kill humans, then what do you eat?”

“Food. It still tastes good, even if it’s never enough.” He shook his head, his smile wilting. “Used to be different but…” He shrugged. “The vampires hunting you are enough to take the edge off for now.”

“You ate them?” Katsuki saw again that final image burned into his retinas, of Izuku with his fangs in the vampire’s neck.

Izuku bared his teeth. They were perfectly normal. “Drank their blood.” Then he giggled—a sound far too cute for the topic at hand—and rubbed the back of his head, looking abashed. “You’re turning white, Kacchan. You should go back inside the shrine.” He gestured with his chin toward the gate. “Vampires can’t enter holy ground. You’ll be safe there.”

Izuku stood, stretching his arms up above his head, back arching in a way that Katsuki absolutely did not stare at. It’d been a long time since Katsuki had felt anything like helplessness, and he hated it.

He supposed this meant he believed Izuku. Ridiculous, he thought. How had he gotten caught up in all of this insane bullshit?  

With a grunt, Katuski stood as well and returned to the gate. Leaning one hand against a thick pillar, he turned and said, “Are you going after the rest of them?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe again.”

Katsuki tilted his head back, glaring through pale lashes as he said, “When I’m done here, I’m going home.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “All right, then I’ll deal with them before you finish.”

“Good. Clean up your fucking mess and leave me out of it,” Katsuki said. “But Aizawa is expecting you for dinner later. Don’t keep him waiting.” He stalked away, broom clenched between his hands, and ignored the happy curve of Izuku’s mouth.

#

“I’ll be late for dinner.” Katsuki leaned against one of the shrine’s outer beams, his phone cradled between his shoulder and jaw. He twirled the feather duster through his fingers and watched a cricket hop across the stone walkway.

Aizawa’s voice through the receiver said, “Ah, don’t worry. I’m not home yet. I decided to look around that old house those people are still complaining about.”

Katsuki grew still. “You mean the one up the mountainside?” He straightened off the wooden beam, pulse jumping beneath his skin.

“Yeah. They said the disturbances only happened at night so–”

“Why didn’t you ask me to go with you?” Katsuki dropped the feather duster, boots loud against the stone pathway as he hurried toward the gate.

“You weren’t well today. I didn’t want to trouble you about it.”

“You have to come back,” Katsuki said. What could he tell him? That it wasn’t safe because vampires were the cause of the trouble? It sounded fucking insane just in his head. “I need your assistance with–” There was a loud rustling noise from the other end, and then something that sounded like static. You and Aizawa both, Izuku had said. Your blood smells amazing. “Aizawa!”

“Hm,” Aizawa said, a flat but thoughtful sound. “I’ll have to call you back.”

The line went dead. The edges of his phone case bit into his palm as he gripped it. “Shit.” He shoved it into his back pocket and broke into a run down the stairs, skipping two or three steps at a time. His motorcycle was parked on the street. He started it with quick, hurried movements, keeping the uncertainty at bay by clearing his mind of anything but the need to reach the mountain path and Aizawa.

The streets passed in a reel of lights, cars honking as he wove through traffic. It seemed to take an impossibly long time to get there. Maybe because Katsuki was counting the seconds in his head.

He’d barely turned off the bike before he was on his feet, punching in the combination to unlock the compartment with his gun. He released the safety and held it at his side as he made his way up the dark path. With how loud his bike was, he doubted his arrival hadn’t been noticed. Still, he decided not to take out his phone to use as a flashlight, just in case.

As he passed the worn iron bench, Aizawa and something else stumbled into view. Aizawa looked winded but otherwise fine, and Katsuki’s heartbeat returned to a normal pace.

At Aizawa’s feet, a man lay crumpled, the skin of his forehead burning where an ofuda was stamped to it. It smelled terrible, but it wasn’t as shocking now that he knew what it was. Didn’t stop the disbelief from running circles in the back of his head, but at least he wasn’t left completely floundering like a dumbass.

“Are you okay?” Katsuki asked. He pointed his gun at the creature’s head, even though the last time he’d shot one of these things, it hadn’t done much good.

Aizawa adjusted the long white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck and gave Katsuki an indecipherable look. “Well, that was different.”

“Geez, old man. You should have told me you were co–” A sound above him had him whipping his gun upward. Before he could get off a shot, though, something dropped down on him, knocking him off his feet.

When he tried to bring his gun up again, rough hands ripped it from his grasp and flung it into the shadowy trees. A half second later, those same hands came down on his wrists and a heavy body settled across his stomach, pinning him to the dirt. Yellow eyes peered down at him, unnatural and hungry.

Katsuki grit his teeth and said, “That was my favorite gun, asshole.”

“Such a foul mouth for a pretty priest,” it hissed, leaning close to sniff at Katsuki’s neck.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki said, twisting his face away.

It laughed, a guttural, inhuman sound. Then it looked up at Aizawa. Aizawa had edged around it, gaze steady and without fear. “No sudden movements,” it said. “Or I rip out his throat.”

“It’s going to do it anyway,” Katsuki said. “Just get out of here.” He tested the vampire’s grip, but it was useless. The creature was as strong as Izuku, holding him in place as surely as if he were chained to the ground.

It was humiliating and enraging, and if he got out of this alive, he was going to make that shitty nerd tell him how to kill these ugly fuckers because Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t and would never be a victim. He just needed to figure out their weakness and then become strong enough to deal with them on his own, especially if it was true his spiritual energy or whatever smelled good enough to make him a target.

“You,” it said, breath warm and gross against Katsuki’s skin, “are troublesome. I’m going to tear out your heart and let the little prince watch me eat it.”

Katsuki’s lip curled. “Keep your dirty fantasies to yourself, you sorry-ass tampon.”

With a snarl, it lowered its head, fangs bared. Katsuki twisted away, trying to buck it off despite knowing that he couldn’t. Fuck, he thought as something sharp pierced his skin. Blood trickled wetly down his neck.

And then he could move again, the vampire’s weight suddenly gone as something green and Izuku-shaped flung it off him. With a furious cry, Izuku launched at the creature in a flash of neon lightning. Their bodies crashed through the underbrush, kicking up dirt and debris. Katsuki rolled away, quickly finding his feet and ignoring the dull pain in his neck.

“Katsuki,” Aizawa said, one hand at his shoulder and the other gripping his chin to tilt his head back. “Your neck—”

“Not now,” he said, shaking himself free. “Where the fuck is my gun?” He kicked uselessly at the grass in the vain hopes of finding it. “God damn it.” Turning on his heel, he marched down the path, past the bench toward his bike and the street.

Reaching down, he wrapped both hands around the wooden stake that marked the path and yanked. It came out without much struggle.

Then he ran back, weapon in hand. Izuku was a streak of green, bright and beautiful, the air around him growing dense with some unnamable power. With a kick almost too swift to follow, Izuku’s foot slammed into the other vampire’s face, sending it flying into the grass. The creature howled and rolled to its feet, preparing to lunge again for Izuku.

It was fixated only on Izuku, having clearly decided he was the only real threat here. Fuck that.

“Hey, asshole,” Katsuki said, coming up behind it. The vampire turned just in time for Katsuki to swing the stake like a bludgeon. The wood smashed into the side of its head, sending it once again onto the grass with an angry yowl.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to use that,” Aizawa said, nodding at the stake in Katsuki’s hand.

“Oh shut up.”

Izuku flickered past him, leaping on top of the vampire. Those scarred hands wrapped around the creature’s throat, squeezing to crush the bones beneath. Katsuki watched with a detached sort of horror. The vampire had just tried to kill him. He couldn’t summon a sense of remorse.

When it was done, a heavy silence fell. Izuku lifted a hand to his mouth, his fingers blackening at the tips where they curved into claws, and dragged his tongue across his knuckles, licking away the thin trail of blood there. Then he pushed his hair out of his eyes and stood.

Katsuki swallowed and hid his uncertainty behind angry words. Flinging the wooden stake into the dark, he demanded, “What took you so long?”

Izuku cast him an annoyed look. “You should’ve stayed at the shrine.”

“You should have taken care of this before Aizawa got here.”

Izuku opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, and then froze. Head tilting, he sniffed lightly. Then, ever so slowly, he turned to fully face Katsuki, green eyes glowing as if lit from within, zeroing in on Katsuki’s neck.

“Shit,” Katsuki said. The small puncture was no longer bleeding, but the blood had trailed down his neck to pool at his collar bone and stain his shirt.

Izuku’s nostrils flared on a deep inhale as he stalked forward. His chin dipped, lips falling open as a pink tongue dragged slowly over elongating canines.

“Snap out it, you fucking nerd.” He wasn’t about to run away again, and sure as hell not from stupid Deku. Reaching out, Katsuki gripped Izuku’s shoulders and gave him a rough shake.

Izuku’s only reaction was to bare his fangs and growl, low and deep in his throat. Against all reason and self-preservation, the sound went straight to his dick. Well, fuck. That was something he’d have to inspect later. Or never.

Without any effort at all because the damn idiot had superhuman strength, Izuku pushed Katsuki backward until his shoulder blades collided with a tree. Jaw slack and eyes transfixed on Katsuki’s neck, Izuku’s hands were like steel bands around Katsuki’s arms.

With a soft breath, Izuku lowered his head to Katsuku’s neck.

“If you bite me,” Katsuki gritted out through his teeth, “I’m going to find my gun and shoot you.” He turned furious eyes on Aizawa, who watched them with a guarded expression.

“What?” Aizawa said. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to kill him.”

Izuku’s breath was hot against his skin, coming in quick, thin pants. He pressed close, the heat of his breaths at odds with his hands, twin points of ice even through the sleeves of Katsuki’s jacket. His chest brushed Katsuki’s, their knees knocking. Izuku slid his thigh between Katsuki’s legs, thoroughly invading his space in a way Katsuki rarely allowed anyone.

Katsuki held his breath, expecting the sting of fangs. Something wet touched his skin instead—Izuku’s tongue. He licked a slow path from the wound down the slope of Katsuki’s neck, lapping up the trail of blood.

Katsuki released his breath on a shaky exhale. A tremor of something not at all disgust raced down his spine. He closed his eyes, disquieted and weirdly flustered. That slick tongue continued to caress his skin, sipping delicately at the blood on his collarbone before returning to the small wound. The sharp points of Izuku’s fangs had yet to even graze him.

His heart thudded loudly in his ears, and when he tried to shift away from the thigh wedged between his own, he was mortified to realize he was hard.

Then Izuku drew back, his hands falling away. Katsuki opened his eyes to see Izuku looking up at him, cheeks flushed and wet lips parted. His fangs receded. The glow of his eyes faded into a dull gleam, no brighter than the moonlight that caught the edges of his circlet.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You taste amazing.”

Katsuki punched him. Or, he would have, if Izuku hadn’t caught his wrist. Then Izuku grinned, looking a little drunk, and rose onto his toes to kiss him. Warm, clumsy lips pressed to his. Katsuki stiffened, thought ‘shitty nerd,’ and kissed him back.

Izuku had no shame. The moment he felt Katsuki reciprocate, he pressed flush against him, mouth opening to demand Katsuki let him in. He whimpered against his mouth until Katsuki gave in, unable to help the desperate way his tongue swept along Izuku’s bottom lip. Izuku sucked on his tongue, angling his head for an even deeper kiss as he wriggled his hips. A soft groan escaped Katsuki’s throat as Izuku’s hard length pressed against his own.

Cold hands trailed up Katsuki’s neck, fingers that were no longer claws brushing over the small wound. Katsuki felt light-headed. He cupped the back of Izuku’s head, threading his fingers through the soft curls and tugging gently.

A loud cough broke through the haze of lust. Katsuki’s eyes flew open, awareness returning with sudden clarity, and pushed Izuku off him. Izuku went without a fight, shuffling back several paces to put enough space between them.

“S-sorry!” Izuku said, looking from Katsuki to Aizawa. “I didn’t… I…” He bowed his head to Aizawa. “I’m sorry! I’ll be back to clean this up. Promise.” Then he disappeared in a flicker of green light.

Katsuki stared at the spot Izuku had been standing, too overwhelmed to think about what had just happened. Then, jamming his hands awkwardly into his jacket pockets, he said, “Help me find my gun.”

#

Every day for a week, Katsuki slowed his bike when he neared the mouth of the path. The wooden marker was gone now, lost somewhere in the trees. The metal bench remained empty.

Izuku had disappeared. Katsuki assumed he had finally moved on. He told himself it was just as well. The nerd had caused enough of an upset in Katsuki’s life, and it was past time to put things back in order.

When Aizawa insisted he put a bandage on his neck, Kaminari immediately assumed he was hiding a hickey and spent the better part of the week trying to rip it off. Kirishima wisely refrained from making any guesses, although there was something in the curve of his smile that made Katsuki want to both shoot the man and put as much distance between them as possible.

Kaminari insisted Katsuki accompany them for a weekend trip to Kyoto and that he invite the ‘lady friend’ who’d given him the nonexistent hickey. When Katsuki declined, Kaminari gave him a scrutinizing look then corrected himself by saying ‘man friend.’ Katsuki punched him. Kirishima didn’t protest.

He declined not only because he had no interest in going anywhere with Kaminari for any extended period of time for any reason whatsoever, but because he had promised Aizawa more hours at the shrine. He had one year left of University before graduation. Then he’d enroll in the program, with a recommendation from Aizawa, to become an official Shinto priest.

Had he enrolled right out of high school, he could have graduated the program already and been working alongside Aizawa at the shrine. Katsuki would have preferred that option, but Aizawa had wanted Katsuki to experience being a normal University student before deciding on his career path, even though Katsuki had reassured him enough times that he had no intention of doing anything other than follow in Aizawa’s footsteps.

Saturday morning, he rose at dawn to accompany Aizawa to the shrine. He made breakfast while waiting for his guardian. Aizawa always took a little longer, having to dress in the traditional uniform of a priest, something Katsuki would someday have to get used to as well. For now though, he favored his jeans.

He set a plate out for Aizawa when he emerged from his room. “Morning,” he said.

Aizawa returned the greeting, tired eyes softened by a small smile. They ate in silence for several minutes before Aizawa said, “I haven’t seen your friend around lately.”

Katsuki kept the fact he nearly choked on an egg from showing on his face. Lightly clearing his throat, he said, “Didn’t I tell you he’s not my friend?”

Aizawa made a soft, contemplative sound. “I suppose we should talk about it.”

“About what? The fact he was a vampire?” Katsuki shoved his food around on his plate, appetite gone.

“Ah,” Aizawa said. He sounded like he’d just had a revelation. Katsuki hitched an eyebrow.

“What did you think the fangs and the biting meant?”

“I hadn’t yet decided,” Aizawa said. “He obviously wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until that night that I had any proof.”

Wait, Katsuki thought. “Wait,” he said out loud. “You knew?!” He set down his plate, braced his palms on either side of it and leaned across the table to glare at his guardian. He remembered that morning after Izuku’s first visit to his balcony, when Aizawa had been deliberately vague about his concerns with the complaints about the old house on the mountain. “How?”

Aizawa gave him a bland look. “I could feel it. Couldn’t you?”

Katsuki had felt a number of things around Izuku. He looked away. “You should have told me.”

“You should have known. Just like you knew Izuku wouldn’t hurt you when he caught scent of your blood.”

Katsuki turned his back, not at all interested in discussing what had happened between him and Izuku with his guardian. He put his plate in the sink and washed it loudly to indicate he was done with the conversation. Aizawa left him to it.

Afterward, Aizawa drove ahead in his car, and Katsuki followed on his bike. He spent the day completing small, menial tasks and meditating beneath the cypress. He tried not to think about Izuku, or about how the overall silence of the shrine seemed at times lacking, or how, when the visitors rang the little golden bell during their prayers, he looked up and scanned their faces before he could catch himself, even knowing full well that Izuku couldn’t enter holy ground.

By the end of the day, he was so annoyed with himself that when he descended the stone stairs and passed through the gate, he thought he was hallucinating Izuku standing beside his bike, hip propped against it.

“Kacchan!” Izuku shouted. His smile was blinding.

Not a hallucination then. “What are you doing here?”

His smile wilted a bit. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Depends,” Katsuki said, rummaging in his pocket for his key. “Are more vampires after me?”

“Nope!” Izuku straightened and waited until Katsuki had mounted the bike before sliding on behind him without asking. “I made sure to get every vampire who came sniffing after you. I wasn’t able to find the stronger ones I told you about, but that’s okay because I couldn’t smell their scent anywhere in the city. You’re safe.”

“I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Katsuki said. He didn’t start the bike yet, just sat still, heart pounding against his ribs and trying to remember how to breathe as Izuku molded himself to Katsuki’s back. His arms crept around Katsuki’s waist, one palm splaying against his stomach as his other hand rested against Katsuki’s hip, thumb nudging aside the hem of Katsuki’s shirt to rub circles against Katsuki’s bare skin in a way that was absolutely deliberate.

“Wanted to see you again,” Izuku said. His voice was muffled, his head resting against Katsuki’s shoulder blade.

Katsuki didn’t know what Izuku wanted him to say to that, so he said nothing. It had only been a week. Barely seven days. Had Katsuki actually missed the idiot?

“With only a handful of the coven left, I can stop running for a while. It’ll be nice.”

Against his back, he could feel Izuku faintly trembling. “What’s wrong?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku lifted his head and rested his cheek against the back collar of Katsuki’s jacket. He spoke softly. “I’ve been alive for a really long time, Kacchan. Really long.”

Katsuki’s hand froze just as he turned the key in the ignition. What was the idiot going on about?

“I can’t remember anymore who I was before… before what I am now. If I had a family or a home or… anything. Little over four hundred years ago, I was trying to save this kid from another vampire, but the sight of his blood… I almost killed him instead.” Izuku’s arms tightened around him. “I ran away, found somewhere to lock myself so I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Katsuki flipped on the engine, shifted into gear, and pulled them out onto the road. He drove slowly, not in any hurry to get home.

“Anyway, Toshinori found me. I was so out of it, I attacked him. He let me bite him, and the second I tasted his blood, I came back to my senses. Because he was royalty. His blood was special too.”

Katsuki grunted to let him know he was following the story, but still didn’t get what Izuku’s point was.

“He became my mentor and my friend,” Izuku said, a melancholy note underlining his words. “We shared blood, kept each other sane. The thing about biting another vampire is that you’re not just taking their blood, but you’re also taking their energy, their powers, their life. We were both nobility–really strong and really old. We had a lot of enemies.”

“Your friend was killed,” Katsuki said. It seemed to be where Izuku’s story was leading. He felt Izuku nod against his shoulder.

“He was protecting me from another vampire–older than us and a lot more powerful. I think he might’ve died as well from fighting Toshinori, but I don’t know. Never found his body. Before Toshinori died, he ordered me to drain him. So that his blood would be useful.”

“Hm.” Katsuki stopped at a red light and felt Izuku squirm behind him, as if trying to get closer. He was pressed tight up against Katsuki as it was, his hips and thighs cradling Katsuki’s.

“Toshinori’s blood kept me sane for almost two hundred years. It was only a few months ago that I felt the stirring again for blood.”

Katsuki understood now. Izuku’s gluttony. His loss of control on the mountain path. The fine tremor in his limbs. “You’re hungry.”

“Your blood was amazing,” Izuku whispered. “You’re going to be a really powerful priest one day, Kacchan. I could taste it. The power in your blood… It brought me back to my senses almost immediately.”

“You’re not biting me,” Katsuki said, seeing now just what the goal of Izuku’s long-winded tale had been.

“That small bit of your blood lasted me a week. I wouldn’t need much.”

“No,” Katsuki said again, firmer. Like hell he was going to become Izuku’s snack bar.

Izuku sighed softly, resignedly. “Okay. I get it. I won’t push it.”

“So what are you going to do?” Katsuki didn’t want to be Izuku’s feeder human, but he also didn’t want Izuku going on a hunger-induced rampage.

“Feed on the vampires who come after me. There’s usually a few every couple months. Should be enough.” He didn’t sound certain.

Katsuki clenched his jaw. He couldn’t let Izuku bite him. It was a matter of principle.

“Hey Kacchan,” he said, hesitant. He had inched his chin forward so that his mouth was against the curve of Katsuki’s ear.

“The answer’s still no.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask!”

“Then what?” He sucked in his breath as Izuku’s hands on his stomach slid lower.

“Why did you kiss me back then?”

Katsuki felt suddenly winded. “I didn’t,” he said. Izuku’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, toying with the waist of his jeans. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah, but why did you kiss me back?”

What kind of stupid question was that? One hand left his jeans, and he released a shuddery breath that made him want to pitch Izuku onto the pavement. Or himself. But then Izuku’s cold fingers were on his neck, brushing aside pale blond hair to expose his neck.

“Izuku,” he said. It was meant to be a warning and would have sounded more threatening if it hadn’t come out so breathless.

Cool lips touched his skin, dropping soft butterfly kisses down the nape of his neck. “I like when you say my name, Kacchan.”

Katsuki grit his teeth. “I’m not letting you bite me.”

“I know. S’okay. I still like you.”

His other hand toyed with the button of Katsuki’s jeans. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Katsuki turned his head back just long enough to give Izuku a withering glare before looking forward again. They had reached the rural area of the city now, with quaint little neighborhoods and small parks around school zones. The traffic was much thinner here.

Izuku flashed him a grin and popped open the button. “Why’d you kiss me back?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions.” Katsuki hissed a curse as Izuku dropped his hand and molded his palm to the line of Katsuki’s cock. He had been half hard since Izuku had slid onto the bike behind him. At the full contact, blood rushed to his groin. Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning.

“So does that mean you like me too?”

“I’m trying to drive,” Katsuki said through his teeth. “You trying to kill us?”

“Don’t’ worry, I won’t let you get hurt,” Izuku said, before giggling like the maniac he was. “Be careful though.” He tugged down the zipper of Katsuki’s jeans and slipped his hand inside.

“Fucking hell,” Katsuki breathed.

Izuku’s lips paused against the side of Katsuki’s neck, just long enough to suck at the skin. Meanwhile, his hand wrapped around Katsuki, constricted from full movement by his jeans.

“You’re so amazing, Kacchan.” Izuku licked over the mark he’d just sucked into his skin, the slick slide of his tongue driving Katsuki mad. “So beautiful. Powerful. Brave. And you smell so good.” He rotated his hips on the seat behind him, and Katsuki felt the hard line of Izuku’s erection against the swell of his butt even through their clothes. “I want you, Kacchan.”

“No shit.” Katsuki couldn’t arch into Izuku’s hand, having to maintain as much focus as possible on the road. Aizawa’s house was just around the corner. Making a quick mental decision, he continued straight.

Izuku fumbled a bit more with his jeans until he’d pushed enough of it aside to expose Katsuki’s thick cock to the cool air. Grinning against Katsuki’s neck, he pumped with more abandon, squeezing the tip before sliding down to dip his fingers lower and toy with the soft skin of his balls.

“You feel so good,” Izuku murmured. “So big. I want to suck it almost as much as I want your blood.”

“You are so dead after this,” Katsuki said as steadily as he could, which was not very.

“But you like it,” Izuku said, rubbing harder. He slid his other hand beneath Katsuki’s shirt, dragging his nails over Katsuki’s abs and ribs.

Just as he’d always been unable to deny the pull of Izuku’s presence, he was helpless now to stop Izuku’s wandering hands, the touches unfamiliar and shocking and altogether intoxicating. Weeks of Izuku’s eyes and smiles and cold hands burrowing into his thoughts and taking root, finding ways to steal moments of his attention at the most random of times.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered into his ear. He rubbed a nipple between his fingers, twisted it just enough for Katsuki to gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through him. “I want… Kacchan, I want to… Can we?”

“Fuck,” Katsuki groaned.

Izuku licked his neck. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Fucking brat.” Katsuki took a sharp turn down a gravel road that led to a dead end and parked the bike.

Izuku’s hands never left him as they both stumbled off the seat. Izuku had both arms around Katsuki’s neck, his mouth moving with impatience and inelegance against Katsuki’s, tongue warm and seeking. The ache of Katsuki’s want for this absurd boy with his stupid smile and his stupid freckles made no sense, but it was hard to give a shit with Izuku’s fingers tangled in his hair and a hard body pressed against him.

Izuku made an impatient little moan against Katsuki’s mouth before steering Katsuki back against the nearest tree. Katsuki grunted as his shoulders hit the trunk, Izuku immediately plastering himself against and around him. Izuku hiked up one leg, which Katsuki eagerly gripped, sliding his palm along Izuku’s thigh until he cupped one round ass cheek.

He inhaled much needed air through his nose, unable to get a decent breath under the assault of Izuku’s lips and tongue. He smelled earthy, like the woods–old trees and worn stones and a cool wind through broad, veined leaves.

“What is it with you and trees?” Katsuki managed between kisses. Izuku laughed, sounding nervous and excited and just as breathless. Katsuki sucked on his bottom lip, wanting to taste that sound, to savor it and roll it against his tongue.

Izuku tore at Katsuki’s clothes, shoving his jacket off his shoulders before pushing down Katsuki’s jeans. The brush of air between Katsuki’s legs jolted him into action. Gripping Izuku’s shoulders, he flipped them, pushing Izuku up against the bark. Ignoring Izuku’s look of surprise, he leaned back in for another kiss. Izuku’s hands danced down Katsuki’s back, scored across the thin skin of his hips and wrapped again around his erection.

Katsuki found Izuku’s belt buckle and jerked it open, pulling at buttons and zippers until his jeans were around his ankles and Izuku was kicking them aside. Then he hauled Katsuki close, hooking his thigh again around Katsuki’s hip and grinding with abandon. He held nothing back, moaning Katsuki’s name into the still night as they exchanged wet, frantic kisses.

Out here, there were no nearby lights, and yet, Katsuki had no trouble seeing the ecstasy so easily given on Izuku’s face. His eyes glowed a dim green, luminous and startling in the dark, and they watched him with open desire, guileless and wanting.

“I’ve thought about what you look like beneath your clothes since the first time you let me ride your bike,” Izuku admitted, tilting his head back to draw in a ragged breath. As he stroked Katsuki with one hand, his other shoved beneath Katsuki’s shirt, palm flat against the muscular plane of his stomach before clenching around Katsuki’s right pec, his nipple caught between two rough fingers.

“Figures you’d also be a pervert,” Katsuki muttered, biting back a groan as the little nerd rolled his nipple and then flicked it gently.

Laughing quietly, Izuku tightened his grip around Katsuki’s cock, quickening his pace. “Like you didn’t think about me either,” he said. “I can smell your desire, you know.”

Katsuki did not, in fact, know that. The little fucker. But he wasn’t angry about it, just amused. He mouthed at Izuku’s exposed neck, pinching sweat damp skin between his teeth and then sucking hard before soothing his tongue over the livid mark.

Izuku whined, tilting his head to give Katsuki better access. “More, Kacchan. Mark me.”

“You’re something else,” he breathed against Izuku’s jaw. He meant it as an insult, but it came out sounding like something else entirely.

He dragged his nose along the thick tendon running down the side of Izuku’s neck until his lips found Izuku’s collarbone and sucked again, hard. He traced the muscles of Izuku’s stomach with the pads of fingers before dusting them over coarse green hairs. Izuku’s cock was hard and hot in his hand, already leaking and wet. He swiped his thumb over the tip, spreading the slick across the head.

“Nnng,” Izuku groaned, the hand on Katsuki’s chest squeezing, blunt nails clawing.

The sounds he made as he bucked into the tight circle of Katsuki’s hand were shameless, every part of him in constant motion and doing his absolute best to drive Katsuki insane. Dropping his head to Katsuki’s shoulder, he panted into the crevice of Katsuki’s neck and shoulder, his tongue painting mindless patterns against his skin.

“Kacchan… please. I’m so close–”

Smirking, Katsuki said, “I guess age doesn’t equal stamina, huh?”

“Kacchan,” he whined, high and needy. “That’s mean.”

His snicker was cut short when Izuku retaliated with an especially rough stroke. “Asshole,” he gritted out. “Come then, Izuku.”

With a cry, Izuku stiffened in Katsuki’s arms, back arching, fingers clenching. He trembled, gasping Katsuki’s name as he spilled himself over Katsuki’s fingers.

Then he went slack, melting against Katsuki with a happy sigh. Katsuki tightened the hand in Izuku’s hair, nudging gently. Izuku obliged and lifted his head, meeting Katsuki’s kiss. All he could feel was overwhelming heat, a conflagration spreading beneath his skin. Izuku lifted his arms and hooked them around Katsuki’s neck before using the leverage to hop up and wrap his legs around Katsuki’s waist.

Katsuki’s throat went dry as Izuku licked the corners of Katsuki’s mouth and whispered, “Inside. I want you inside me.”

Katsuki groaned, too far gone to be embarrassed by the sound. He slid his hand over Izuku’s hip, leaving a sticky trail across his skin, and without warning, pushed a stained finger into Izuku.

“Ah!” Izuku’s legs convulsed once before tightening around Katsuki’s waist, and he bore down, insistent. He made impatient, wordless sounds, squirming to get more of Katsuki in him.

“Impatient,” he whispered, but he felt that same, so he pushed a second finger inside.

“Kacchan, just do it,” Izuku said, fingers gripping handfuls of blond hair and tugging hard. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

You asked for it, he thought wryly before slowly dragging his fingers free, pausing only to rub at the tight skin around his entrance. Izuku whimpered again before Katsuki finally gripped his ass and spread his cheeks, positioning himself.

Then he was sinking into him, wet from Izuku’s come and impossibly tight. Part of Katsuki had wondered if he would be cold inside as well, but only tight heat and scorching pleasure squeezed around his cock. Izuku shouted at him to hurry up, to keep going, deeper, deeper, and Katsuki hoped no one was around to hear them. And then it didn’t even matter as Izuku clenched around him and his thoughts degenerated into a stream of incoherent curses.

Katsuki withdrew, lifting Izuku halfway off his dick before he thrust in again. He watched Izuku throw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, lips slack and wet with spit, the muscles in his neck taut, green curls sticking to skin that was warm and full of life and nothing like Katsuki would have expected a vampire to be.

He felt amazing, all wet pressure and clenching thighs. His hands tugged at Katsuki’s shirt, dragging it up over his head before reaching down to divest himself of the rest of his clothes, all the while riding Katsuki’s cock, back undulating and wanton. The tight muscles in Izuku’s stomach shifted as he arched his back. Katsuki wanted to lick them, to drag his tongue down the delineation, to feel them contract and twist beneath his mouth.

Next time. He didn’t even know where that thought had come from, just that there would be a next time. He couldn’t imagine not touching Izuku again, not feeling him tremble against him or bear down around him, sweaty skin sliding beneath his fingernails.

“Kacchan, please,” Izuku keened. He wrapped himself fully around Katsuki and pressed his mouth to Katsuki’s neck, breath moist and damp against his overheated skin. “Please let me. You smell so good. So good. Please. I promise it won’t hurt.”

Izuku was so tight around him, squeezing and wringing out of him sounds he’d never thought his throat capable of. He felt delirious from the pleasure, his fingers flitting down to where he was connected to Izuku, amazed by the feel of himself disappearing into him.

Izuku’s words registered then and he his hips stuttered, only for a moment because Izuku rolled his hips, drawing Katsuki back into helpless rhythm.

“Please. Just a little. You’re so amazing, Kacchan, and you taste like sunlight.” Izuku’s mouth was open against his neck, sucking harshly at his skin, leaving his own marks. His tongue licked stripes down to his collarbones where he tapped his teeth against the skin but didn’t bite. “Nnnnn, oh god, don’t stop. Harder, Kacchan, I want to feel you in my throat. Please, please, Katsuki.”

“Fuck, fine, god, just shut up,” Katsuki snapped. Granted, it wasn’t the most thought out decision he’d ever made, but his lust addled brain figured letting Izuku have a taste was better than potential mass murder.

The words were barely out of his mouth before Izuku sank his fangs into Katsuki’s neck. There was a brief flash of pain, barely noticeable beneath the pleasure of Izuku’s body around him, and then sharp, intense sensation filled him, riding his spine and tightening every muscle in his body. He let go of all inhibitions, rutting fast and hard, pounding into Izuku without restraint. Izuku could do nothing but hold on with his arms and legs and teeth.

He made a guttural sound against Katsuki’s throat, and sucked hard one more time before releasing him. His head dropped back against the tree trunk, breaths hitching in time to Katsuki’s thrusts. His mouth was stained red, tongue swiping at his bottom lip and extended fangs, the bright blood obscene and shocking. His eyes glowed beneath the droop of eyelids, cloudy with lust and a hunger only half sated.

Katsuki groaned, orgasm crashing over him. His vision blurred, everything cresting to a blinding white heat.

Afterward, he could only remain pressed against Izuku as he tried to catch his breath, hands still gripped tight around Izuku’s ass.

“Wow,” Izuku whispered into the thin space between them. “That was incredible.” He tilted his head and licked again at the two small pricks in Katsuki’s neck. “Mmmm.”

“Stop that,” Katsuki said. He sounded exhausted.

Izuku lowered his legs, untangling himself from Katsuki as Katsuki pulled out with a wince. He felt boneless, limbs limp and clumsy as he pulled his clothing back on in graceless movements. Izuku seemed to be doing a better job of it, already fully dressed by the time Katsuki got his jeans buttoned.

His neck hurt now that the pleasure high was fading. Izuku reached out and cradled his jaw. Katsuki eyed him, not wary, just curious.

“You’re gorgeous,” Izuku said, sounding awed.

Katsuki gave him a flat look. It just figured Izuku would try for pillow talk even in absence of a pillow. “Didn’t I tell you to stop saying creepy shit?”

“No, I’m serious,” Izuku said, sliding his arms around Katsuki until they were chest to chest again. It was an awkward hug, mostly because Katsuki was still hot and sweaty from their exertions, and he wanted space to cool off. “You’re like the sun. I can’t be out in daylight for very long, but it doesn’t even matter. I don’t need the real one if I’ve got you.”

Katsuki rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean or what to say in response. But he put his arm around Izuku’s shoulders and squeezed, once. “I’m never going to get rid of you now, am I?”

Izuku grinned and bounced away toward the bike, apparently fully recovered. Katsuki groaned and followed suit.

“I’m going to have to put another bandage on my neck,” he said, annoyed at the prospect of enduring another week of Kaminari’s idiotic taunts. Except this time, he really would be hiding a few hickies as well.

“Thanks,” Izuku said. Now he chose to look embarrassed, after that lewd performance he’d given Katsuki a moment ago. Not that Katsuki had been complaining. “I won’t need blood again for a while.”

“What makes you think I’m letting you do that again?” Katsuki asked as he threw a leg over the bike and felt Izuku settle in behind him.

“C’mon, you know I need it.”

“You asked me while I was balls deep in you. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“That’s just an excuse.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t thinking clea–Hey.” Something struck him. “You biting me like that. That’s not going to turn me into a vampire, is it?” He remembered all the films he’d ever watched where a single vampire bite could result in turning. He cupped his neck and felt the tiny wounds against his fingers.

“Um…” Izuku drummed his fingers against Katsuki’s hip. “Actually, I don’t know. I’ve never bitten a human before.”

Katsuki tightened his grip on the handles until his knuckles turned white. Then he turned around and grabbed the damned nerd by the front of his shirt. “What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Kacchan! I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Izuku said, grasping Katsuki’s wrist with one hand but not doing anything else. Both of them knew he could break Katsuki’s grip with little effort. “You got nicked by that vampire last week and nothing happened, right?”

“You are the most ridiculous, thoughtless, idiotic…” He continued to shout insults and issue threats as he turned the bike toward the main street and home.

“Hey, on the bright side, if you become a vampire then at least we’ll have eternity together!” Izuku said against his shoulder.

“That’d be the worst fate anyone could ever bestow me,” Katsuki shouted.

Izuku’s lips were warm as they brushed his ear. “Don’t worry, Kacchan. Things’ll be okay.”

“Oh, shut up,” Katsuki said, and didn’t mind Izuku’s laughter.

~fin