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It’s Saturday morning, and Katsuki is pissed.
It’s that stupid locking thing. That omega thing that he is supposed to be able to do when they have sex and he comes and Izuku knots him. That thing that he can’t fucking do . He hates the way that people talk about it, like its so special and how it didn’t happen for them until they found the right partner, but now everything feels right, and the whole world is fucking great and they’re so fucking happy together.
Katsuki has been to his annual doctor’s appointments, and there’s nothing wrong with his anatomy. So it’s just something about him—his brain chemistry or his hormones or his personality or his very essence. Alpha-omega pairs that are compatible as mates usually experience it the first time they share a heat or rut, if not sooner.
Katsuki supposes maybe he should consider himself lucky—omegas have to lock and alphas have to knot for there to be a chance of conception. The chances are already lower for pairs of the same primary gender anyways, so they’re essentially fucking with guaranteed birth control since Katsuki’s body can’t do the thing it’s supposedly designed for. He doesn’t want kids, at least not for a long time, so this is awfully convenient.
But he can’t get past it; the way that people, even his friends talk about locking. Wait, you’ve been together for three years? And you’ve never…? It’s okay to have casual sex, it’s okay to mess around with people that you can’t have that sort of meaningful connection with—but that’s what it is—casual, meaningless. To stay with the same person for years when your body is giving clear signs that it’s not right—people don’t do that.
But Katsuki and Izuku are like…they’re like fucking soulmates. Or whatever the closest thing to that is. Katsuki will not be with anyone else. He won’t. Izuku is the person that he loves. He knows that they’re twenty years old and there are other fish in the sea and a whole lot of them that he hasn’t met before, but Katsuki doesn’t fucking want those other fish. He wants this one, god dammit.
People telling him that maybe he and Izuku aren’t right for each other just makes his blood boil. It makes him even more stubbornly determined to prove them wrong, because Izuku is perfect for him, and even though Katsuki acts like he’s an asshole, he’s really not—he’s all bark and no bite—and he’s perfect for Izuku. They’re just right; they balance each other out, they respect and love one another, they make up for what the other lacks, they challenge each other to be the best versions of themselves.
Izuku treats him so well, and he’s endlessly patient and kind with Katsuki, and he doesn’t automatically expect him to act like a stereotypical omega or think that he’s fucked up because he’s not soft and docile like fucking perfect Todoroki Shouto. Stupid fucker.
Katsuki had felt like he and Todoroki were allies in this for a like time. In the omega issues—sex issues, more like. Which is stupid—that makes him cringe just thinking the words in his head. It makes Katsuki feel like he’s some middle-aged guy with chronic erectile dysfunction or something (his dick works just fine, it’s his ass that’s the problem). But Todoroki had also been…abnormal. He didn’t have sex. Like, at all. He was asexual. Key word was, past tense.
Katsuki had been having a nice one-sided ranting session with Todoroki while they finished breakfast, and Todoroki had decided to tell him that actually he was demisexual. So really, he was Serosexual. Disgusting. And Todoroki said that he had worked through a lot of things and now his relationship was really sexually fulfilling or something or the other.
Well, the conversation hadn’t gone exactly like that. Katsuki had moved to complaining about the omega locking thing, and telling Todoroki that maybe his conspiracy theorist tendencies were rubbing off on him, because Katsuki doubted if it was even a real thing. Maybe it was just a joke that people in perfect relationships made up and liked to spread around so they could shit on other people and feel superior—
“It’s real, I did it.” In that slightly dumb, deadpan voice he uses.
“What?” Katsuki spits. “The fuck are you talking about? I thought you didn’t have sex.”
“I do now. With Hanta. It’s really fun.” Todoroki blinks at him, expressionless. “I think I figured out I’m demisexual, actually.”
“You just…you know what, whatever.” Katsuki sulks. “It’s fucking fine.”
“You seem to be upset about this.”
“I’m not upset!” he says defensively. “Fuck off.”
“It feels really good though. The lock. I hope you can with Izuku someday. I like it a lot.” For someone so socially awkward and supposedly asexual, Todoroki sure doesn’t seem to have a problem telling Katsuki too much about his sex life.
“That’s great, good for you.”
“I wonder why you haven’t done it yet.”
“Stop talking.” He says halfheartedly, grinding his teeth.
“Maybe you don’t trust Izuku.”
“That's not fucking it !” he shrieks. It’s not . He trusts Izuku with his goddamn life.
“Maybe you don’t trust yourself, then.”
“Shut up! What does that even mean ,” Katsuki grumbles. He’s still trying to figure out how Shouto Todoroki, dumbass extraordinaire, the sexless wonder, is having better sex than Katsuki. When the fuck did he and Sero even start having sex? Todoroki was celibate like a god damned monk last he’d heard.
“I don’t know, it could be anything,” Todoroki continues. “Maybe you’re not fully accepting yourself or trusting that you’re good for him.” Todoroki is definitely spending too much time with Sero—he’s starting to spout all of that understanding, self-compassion, communication-is-key bullshit. Sounds just like Izuku, too.
“You’re emotionally unintelligent,” Katsuki spits. “I don’t need advice from you.” He says it matter-of-factly. Todoroki shrugs wordlessly, and now Katsuki already feels guilty about saying it. “Congratulations on the sex,” he tacks on to try to amend. He doesn’t want Todoroki to think he’s being a dick about his sexuality, because that’s not the issue, even it’s the momentary object of his misdirected anger.
“Okay, thank you. Bye then.” Todoroki gives him an expression that he thinks is classed as a smile—a little upturn of the corners of his mouth, a softening of his eyes. It’s stupidly charming. Then he turns and walks away, back toward the table where Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero are sitting. Katsuki blinks after him. The guy is so fucking weird. He’s unnatural.
It looks very natural when he presses up against Sero though, nuzzles at the curve of his neck and goes lax in the circle of his arms.
Katsuki sort of wishes that Todoroki had been a little more sensitive to his feelings then, even though that’s hypocritical and contradicts everything he always says about how he doesn’t have feelings. But just hearing a confirmation that Katsuki is absolutely messed up is not what he wanted.
Todoroki was supposed to be his companion in bitching about society and their omega-ness to cover up their insecurities. At least that’s what it was for Katsuki; Todoroki’s part mostly involved nodding and commenting awkwardly. Fucking Todoroki. Now he has no one to complain with about the misery of being in heat; Todoroki is going to join the likes of Kaminari, reveling in their fun and delightful fuck fests and their feelings of empowerment and sexual liberty as omegas.
He can’t talk to anyone else about this. Eijirou is Katsuki’s best friend, but the guy is very happy with his status as a beta, and there’s only so much of Katsuki’s omega-problem-venting that he can take; he definitely can’t take excessive complaining about heats. Eijirou would probably tell him that being an omega was cool and manly, and he was so strong, and being able to give birth is so majestic and special and blah blah.
Katsuki’s heats are a point of contention in his relationship, and he doesn’t like them. It’s the first thing that he and Todoroki ever bonded over, in whatever way either of them could express the bonds of friendship. Todoroki was uncomfortable with sexuality, and he hated the biological need that drove his body, hated the physical discomfort that came with heats and the unmet emotional needs that accompanied all of those hormones.
Katsuki hates feeling so fucking conflicted. He always feels the need to fight Izuku for dominance, to get on top and ride him for all he’s worth, to kiss him like he’s trying to win a battle, to be demanding and bratty and take what he wants.
For some idea of his identity that he’s built up in his head.
But it’s not exactly that easy, and that’s why it’s continued to be an issue—that attitude is a facet of his person, how others perceive him, how he defines his own sense of self. He’s always putting up a fight and acting brash and confident, and it’s tiring sometimes. His way of navigating life is underlined with aggression and taking what he wants. That requires constant energy and effort, and as practiced with it as Katsuki is, it isn’t really his deep-set, automatic instinct.
And he knows that’s why the little conversation with Todoroki pissed him off so much. He’s not upset that Todoroki is doing well and enjoying his life—Katsuki’s not that much of an asshole. It’s just that the words hit home. Maybe you’re not fully accepting yourself or trusting that you’re good for him. Somewhere in his mind he already halfway knew that he had issues he needed to work through; confusion and insecurity and stubbornness and preconceived notions. An inability to let go and stop tormenting himself.
Cause all the rules that he’s set up for how he, Bakugou Katsuki, presents himself to the world are a heavy weight to drag around all the time. He’s not a stereotypical omega and he doesn’t want to he one all the time; but...in his shared moments with Izuku, just the two of them—Katsuki and the one person he trusts and loves the most...he wants that to be somewhere that he doesn’t have to carry that shit around anymore. He wants to be cared for and care for Izuku in return. Not in the subtle, easily brushed off ways that he pretends not to engage in or plays at being annoyed by. He wants to fully experience it. To be unguarded. He wants to not be a jerk because he’s too fucking tense and he doesn’t ever get out of his own head. He wants sex where he can let go of his need to posture and deny his honest desires.
He wants to be soft; wants to be pliant and obedient and wants Izuku to take over and do what he wants with Katsuki. Press him down on the bed, or get him kneeling on the floor and just let him take it. Make him beg sweetly, hold the reins while Katsuki indulges in that deep, unshakeable desire to please his alpha. And he doesn’t know why this is so fucking difficult for him. They’re in love, for fuck’s sake. Have been for years. Izuku is so open and vulnerable with Katsuki, and Katsuki still has this resistance to showing him the same decency.
Somewhere deep down he thinks he’s afraid of confirming some idea about his secondary gender. If he’s vulnerable emotionally and sexually, he’s weak, and he’s no different from the overplayed stereotypes about omegas. Katsuki isn’t like those other omegas, he’s strong and does what he wants—it’s his identity. But god dammit, he’s just agreeing with the moronic stereotypes by acting like this. And aside from the question of secondary gender, Izuku cries three times as much as Katsuki and no one in their right mind doubts that he’s capable and respectable. And he lets Katsuki push him down and use him like a sex toy on a regular basis, and he doesn’t complain, and Katsuki hasn’t thought less of him for a second.
Izuku is there for him every day, even during his heats when he must be borderline intolerable; and of course Katsuki is hideously ungrateful about it. Bitches about Izuku trying to treat him like a baby, even though he can fucking take care of himself, dammit. He tries to push away the affection in the moment even when his body and his mind are screaming at him to accept it, his omega instincts slamming against the inside of his skull, trying to force their way out as Katsuki mutters that Izuku doesn’t need to make him food, Katsuki can feed himself. And no, he doesn’t need to be knotted again yet, he’s fine, his pheromones are fucking lying.
Izuku is so, so patient, and maybe that’s what really does it in the end. Katsuki can make himself suffer until the end of time, but he’s so tired of being the reason for Izuku’s suffering. Because that’s what it does—he can tell how much it hurts Izuku. Not just instinctually as an alpha whose pride in his ability to care for his mate is in question. But as a person who loves Katsuki and cares for him deeply. It hurts him to see Katsuki deny himself, over and over, lie to himself, make everything more difficult on himself that it has to be. Izuku hates it, and Katsuki hates that Izuku hates it.
So maybe the selfless thing to do now is to be selfish. To give in and ask for what he wants. He knows that Izuku would give him the world if he asked for it. He doesn’t deserve it, but maybe he can take a few stops closer down the road of deserving it. Katsuki is tired. He’s fucking tired, and he doesn’t want to ignore his desires any more.
Which brings him to this. This conversation that he needs to have. Because it’s been two days of ceaseless stewing; thinking about Todoroki’s words and everything that Katsuki knows about himself, then getting angry and crying in the shower, and then getting angry about the fact that he’s crying, and then thinking about it some more until the cycle starts over.
Frazzled and halfway to a meltdown, he stomps into the kitchen where Izuku is making tea and humming a little made up song. He’s wearing his glasses and a big green hoodie that matches his eyes and his messy post-shower hair, and when he turns he’s holding the mug with both hands. He looks adorable, and the sweeping jealousy Katsuki feels fuels his rage. Stupid , being jealous of his own boyfriend, for...being cuter than him? Katsuki could achieve the exact same effect by wearing one of Izuku’s oversized sweaters and pouting all cute like he’s quite sure he’s capable of, if he would only stop being a stubborn piece of shit.
“Deku,” Katsuki says. He already sounds grumpy to his own ears, and calling him Deku is a flashing neon sign pointing to the fact that he’s agitated. Izuku fixes him with a smile, though, sets down his tea, and steps closer to kiss his cheek.
“Hi sweetheart,” he says, sugar sweet, giving Katsuki an even bigger smile after getting a kiss. He feels very grumpy now, because Izuku calls him nice things all the time and Katsuki doesn’t want him to know that he likes it.
Katsuki takes a calming breath. The whole point of this conversation is to be honest and open, and it’s stupid anyways because Izuku obviously already knows he likes the nicknames; he wouldn’t use them if Katsuki didn’t. He doesn’t know why he’s being so defensive right now, when nothing has even happened yet.
“Deku,” he starts again. “I have to talk to you.”
“Not breaking up with me already, are you?” Izuku teases, and Katsuki pushes at his shoulder.
“No. Just talking.” He softens when Katsuki doesn’t tease back.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, brushing Katsuki’s hair back, then letting his hand slide down and settle, blunt fingernails scratching lightly at the roots of his hair. Katsuki shrugs. He doesn’t want to look at Izuku’s face right now. Especially when he sighs, a little bit defeated, and Katsuki shrinks in on himself. “Kacchan, is this about the locking thing again?”
“No,” Katsuki argues, but he sounds sort of strangled.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he bristles. “It’s not fucking about that.” That’s mostly true. It started with that at the very core, but it’s twisted up with the other things that are wrong, and he’s lost the catalyst in the subsequent realization of all the problems he needs to address.
“Okay, okay.” Izuku holds both of his hands, tightly so Katsuki doesn’t try to pull them away. “Let’s go sit down and then we can talk.”
He gets his steaming mug of tea from the counter, and they move to sit on the small sofa in the living room. Izuku waits quietly for him to speak. It takes a moment, Izuku blowing on his tea and taking a tiny sip of the hot liquid while he lets Katsuki gather his thoughts.
“You know that I don’t…that I don’t like…omega stuff,” he says. Izuku tilts his head a bit, like he’s hesitating, then nods, once. “Well, sometimes I…” Katsuki should have practiced this more. No. This is stupid; it’s his boyfriend that he trusts with his life .
“Kacchan,” Izuku says softly. He reaches for Katsuki’s hand again, holds one between both of his palms. “It’s okay if you don’t like that stuff,” he says, then there’s a heavy pause. “And it’s okay if you do.”
Katsuki swallows, feeling like there’s something stuck in his throat. “I like that stuff sometimes. With you.” His fingers twitch between Izuku’s palms, and he presses his lips together firmly. He’s looking down at his lap.
“Okay,” Izuku encourages. “That’s alright, honey. You’re allowed to enjoy however you like to feel and act. It’s not hurting anyone.” Katsuki nods and stares fixedly at the couch. He’s already doing it right now—the omega stuff—being docile and letting his alpha comfort him. He wants to bristle at it, but he likes the feeling too much. That’s what this whole thing is about. “Can you…tell me more?” Izuku asks. “I just want to make sure I understand where your head is.”
Katsuki runs through different ways to explain himself in his head, then gives up. “I like acting like—feeling like—a fucking omega,” he voices, snappish, and the corner of Izuku’s lips twitches.
“What does that mean for you? It’s not like that’s a set way you need to feel.”
“Yeah but like…” he twists his hand free of Izuku’s hold and brings both palms up to scrub over his face. “I like being…” Katsuki hates this. He wishes that Izuku could just read his mind and he didn’t have to say anything.
“I’m not gonna think any less of you, Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice is whisper soft, barely audible in the few feet of space between them.
“I don’t know!” he jerks his legs up to pull them into his chest, rocking back against the arm of the couch. “I just—I want to be...submissive, sometimes, it’s—I don't know. It’s not a big deal, just something I think about sometimes.”
“Katsuki,” Izuku says in a sigh. “Honey. That’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But it’s not how I am,” Katsuki says, muffled into his knees.
“Your omega side doesn’t have a be at odds with your personality, you’re the same person.”
“But I don’t always feel like I’m totally omega. I’m not—’m not used to it. I don’t even know how to be like that even when I want to.”
“There’s not one way to be an omega, Katsuki. Just like there’s not one way to be an alpha, or one way to do anything, really.” He’s right, of course. But there’s still that deeply-rooted, instinctual way. That tells Katsuki to let his alpha protect him and take care of him and be the dominant partner in his life.
“I want to be like—like Todoroki,” he mumbles. His face feels hot.
“Shouto?” Izuku sounds on the verge of laughter, and Katsuki clenches his fists. “I thought…you’re always saying that he’s dumb and weird.”
Izuku should absolutely know that Katsuki doesn’t think Todoroki is dumb and weird. He wouldn’t seriously insult Izuku’s closest friend. Okay, maybe a little, but not really . He feels lots of things about a lot of people, and then he promptly covers that up with anger and irritation so that no one will know he feels things besides that. It doesn’t work most of the time, and especially not on Izuku.
“Well he’s not. He’s fucking perfect, stupid-ass, fuckin’—he’s all soft and he smells pretty—he’s always batting his eyelashes. He’s not even doing it on purpose, it’s ridiculous! And—and he and Sero are having sex now, did you know that?” Izuku is watching him with wide eyes. “Dumbass Todoroki having perfect sex and getting taken care of like a—like, I don’t even know. He said he locks, with Sero, they…” Katsuki is losing steam on his rant, because he just feels upset; he’s sad and hurt and not really angry. He wants that—he wants to be a sweet, darling omega like Todoroki and be able to properly give his alpha, his Izuku, that feeling of connecting them together like nothing else in the world.
They’ve been trying for so long. Talked about trust and love, and had sex over and over, and it’s amazing. Katsuki loves it. Izuku knows his body so well, and he focuses on Katsuki’s pleasure, and he’s great in bed, but it doesn’t matter what position they’re in or how much foreplay they started with, or if Izuku bites down on his scent gland to try to wake up the instinct—it doesn’t work.
Because Katsuki is scared. He’s scared of being an omega. He’s scared of how much he likes that he’s an omega; how much he wants to be more like one. He’s scared of being what he is and what he really, really wants to be.
His whole life he’d grown up fighting it tooth and nail because he was strong and he was in charge and that was that. Admitting that he not only wanted an alpha, but that he wanted to lie down and submit to one—it was like giving up. And he’s realizing now that being an omega—being himself— wasn’t giving up.
It was the opposite. It was the exact fucking opposite of what Katsuki has been doing his entire life. Giving up was letting his stupid incorrect notions and his stubbornness and judgments control what he wanted to do. Just because he though it didn’t align with his persona, and the hardened, suffocating exterior that he’d created for himself.
“Katsuki,” Izuku whispers. He’s closer now, pressing into Katsuki’s space, pulling his limp arms away from him and sliding his own underneath them; draping Katsuki over him and holding him tightly. “You don’t need to be like Shouto. I’m dating you for a reason. You’re everything I want, you know that?” his tone is so loving, tender and sympathetic.
“That’s not helping,” Katsuki chokes out, pressed against Izuku’s shoulder. “If I’m already everything you want then that means you don’t want it to change.” He’s not sure if he’s even making sense, but Izuku had said so many times that he likes Katsuki’s stubborn resolve, his spirit, the way he doesn’t let other people tell him what to do. And now Katsuki is telling him that he wants to behave in the exact opposite way.
“It’s already a part of you,” Izuku soothes him. His hand is warm and heavy on the back of Katsuki’s neck, squeezing lightly. “I’m very observant, you know.”
“What?” He sniffles.
“You’ve always liked being a little bit submissive. I would never want to push you, and I know you didn’t want me to acknowledge it, but…it’s not…Katsuki, it’s not out of left field, that’s all.”
“So this…this whole conversation was unnecessary,” Katsuki says, snappish and defensive all over again. If Izuku already knew that's what he liked—
“No,” Izuku soothes him again. “Absolutely not. I think this helped you a lot,” Izuku smiles gently, poking Katsuki’s sternum with one finger. “And it clarified things for me. I’m observant, but I don’t know everything.” Katsuki sniffs, then takes a deep breath, reigning in his emotions. “I know serious conversations are hard for you, but I think they’re necessary.”
Katsuki slumps. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so too,” he says. Izuku holds his hand between them and rubs tiny circles over his knuckles. “You said...you knew I’ve always liked being...” submissive goes unsaid as he trails off, hoping Izuku will pick it up for him.
“Oh,” he says. “I meant with me, since we’ve been a couple. I don’t think you’re obvious about that at all to other people,” he smiles comfortingly. He can read Katsuki well. “And…I knew you had those tendencies, but I didn’t know to what extent. So now that I understand, I think we can try doing things differently.” Izuku smiles sheepishly, then combs his hair back and leans in to kiss him tenderly. Katsuki feels a little bit embarrassed at the implication, but he wants that. A lot. Wants Izuku to maybe go a little bit alpha on him, and let himself sink into his omega side. His boyfriend’s tone of voice and the spike of his scent makes him think that Izuku would like it too.
“I, um.” Izuku starts again, and clears his throat. “You know I love our sex life, I really do, but I’ve had plenty of thoughts about changing things up. I still have all the alpha instincts and hormones, you know.” He looks flushed, and Katsuki isn’t faring much butter.
“Oh, cool,” he says lamely, nodding. “That’s…good. We’re compatible, then.”
Izuku snorts out a soft laugh before Katsuki can cringe too hard at his own words. “Did you have any doubts?”
“Doubt is not an emotion I experience,” Katsuki says stubbornly, holding back a smile with minimal success, and Izuku laughs. “Shut up, nerd.”
“That’s my Kacchan.” He beams. It’s such a familiar expression, one that he’s almost conditioned to feel happiness upon seeing, and Katsuki’s shoulders unwind.
“Love you,” he says softly.
“Love you too.” Izuku holds open his arms, tilting his head cutely to invite him forward, and they melt together in a secure embrace. Squirming into a comfortable position, Katsuki works his head under Izuku’s chin and sighs at the press of lips on the top of his head.
“It’s not only like, a sex thing, though,” Katsuki mumbles in the pause. “You can...” he frowns, trying to phrase it in his head. “I know you like sort of. Doting on me. Or just small things…where you take care of me, or comfort me.” His throat is so constricted he’s not sure how he gets the words out, suddenly dialed back up to a strangely emotional response. “And I guess, I like that too.” He peeks up. “Not too much right away!” He tacks on the moment he sees Izuku, realizing he’s almost made the mistake of giving his doting alpha free reign to pamper and baby him to his heart’s content. They separate to look each other in the eyes, and Katsuki wonders what exactly he just awakened in his boyfriend.
Izuku’s eyes are practically sparkling with wonder, so big and shiny when they meet Katsuki’s, mouth slightly open and—fucking hell, tears? He’s got tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh, Kacchan, really?” Izuku says, and grips both of Katsuki’s hands, pulling to clutch them against his heart. “You really want—” he blinks back the tears and laughs. “I’m so happy to hear that, Kacchan.”
Katsuki is flushed dark red, eyes wide. Izuku’s affection is so strong and he wears his whole heart on his sleeve, and it’s overwhelming sometimes. But it’s also so incredibly endearing, the way he looks at Katsuki like he’s gifting him something precious. “I’m...glad,” Katsuki says, instead of the biting comment he thought about, and Izuku beams at him again.
“Oh, Katsuki, honey, during your heat too? Can I take care of you properly? Not like—you won’t just refuse it?” Katsuki feels transparent, exposed. He curls his fingers around Izuku’s pinkie, the only way he can grab him with their hands pressed clumsily to Izuku’s chest like that, and nods. Then he laughs wetly, incredulous. Izuku is ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as Katsuki is. Izuku bounces happily against the couch and surges forward to kiss him again, cradling his face in both hands. “Ever since I presented I was so excited to take care of my omega like that,” he gushes when he pulls back. It’s so dumb and embarrassing, how earnest he is. “I knew it would be you, Kacchan, so I made my expectations realistic. And I love you how you are, you know that, of course you do.” His eyes are almost closed from smiling, soft freckled cheeks and childish excitement at odds with his tall, strong frame. He laughs. “But now I can have both,” he bounces again in place, hands balling into happy fists “And I’ll spoil you and take such good care of you, Kacchan, my Katsuki—”
“Ugh, alright, alright,” Katsuki gripes, burying his red face in his hands. “I can only take so much at one time, nerd. Cool it.”
“Okay!” He doesn’t seem discouraged in the slightest. “Baby steps, that’s fine for me.”
Katsuki gets ready for a nice early bedtime, feeling strangely light and more than a little proud of himself. Izuku seems determined to put his newfound pampering rights into practice as soon as possible, following him into the bedroom and giving Katsuki a shoulder massage until he starts getting too kissy and Katsuki has to shut it down before they both get wound up. He feels happy and satisfied, but he’s still really tired after having a difficult emotional discussion. That doesn’t come naturally to him. And he remembers Izuku was about to start on homework before their little talk began.
“I’ll just get up earlier and do it in the morning! I wanna cuddle you,” he insists when Katsuki brings it up.
“We cuddle all the time,” Katsuki mumbles.
“But this time is special . I don’t have to worry about you biting my head off.” He pats Katsuki’s blonde spikes affectionately.
“Oi, don’t he so quick to assume you’re in the clear—”
“Shhh, Kacchan. Cuddle time.”
--
Katsuki thought they were done with the annoying parts after that. He was sorely mistaken, he realizes the next day, when Izuku says he wants them to talk some more before they have sex. Relenting in his mission to kiss the absolute shit out of his boyfriend, Katsuki sits, and gears himself up for another grueling conversation he would rather evade.
“Tell me more about what you like,” Izuku encourages while he traces the lines of his palm. He looks at him with soft, imploring eyes. “Or anything specific you might want me to do.”
Katsuki’s throat is dry, and he struggles to swallow as Izuku begins trailing his fingertips over the veins on the inside of his wrist, up to the crease of his elbow. “I...” Katsuki shakes his head, blinks hard. “I would like if you just...if—if you—” he squeezes his hands into fists and releases. He doesn’t know why it’s so difficult to talk about things out loud. He doesn’t even want to do anything extreme.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says gently. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about what you like. I’m not gonna laugh, or shut you down, or tell anyone, or whatever it is you’re worrying about.” His scent is comforting, familiar and masculine.
“Yeah,” Katsuki nods. He swallows. “I...kind of want you to just do whatever you want with me. Throw me around and stuff.” he says, then clears his throat awkwardly. He’s not nervous about doing any of the stuff, but talking about it is hard. “And I’ll just,” he motions uselessly with his hands. “Make you feel good.” Izuku nods, still tracing one fingertip along his forearm in a slow drag, his other hand loosely circling Katsuki’s wrist. “And you could like...make me beg or something.” His face feels so hot. His automatic response is to be annoyed at Izuku for making him go through this, but he knows the anger is misplaced. That Izuku is just ensuring he understands in order to better fulfill Katsuki’s desires, and he doesn’t deserve Katsuki lashing out at him.
Regardless, his palms and under his arms and the back of his neck are damp with nervous sweat for some reason. Izuku is nodding, humming in affirmation and waiting patiently, giving him time to say anything else he needs to. “Maybe, uhmm, you can...” Katsuki swallows again, throat clicking. “I mean...you could tell me if I’m. Doing well.”
He chances a sneaky glance up at Izuku’s face, only to find him looking intently back at Katsuki. His eyes are dark, pupils wider than before, and he’s biting back a smile. His scent is sharper now, heavier somehow, and it does nothing to alleviate the feverish feeling Katsuki has. Just when he’s going to keep talking, say something to lessen the impact of what he’s trying to convey, Izuku speaks in a low, smooth voice.
“Kacchan just wants to be a sweet little omega for me, don’t you?” Katsuki’s stomach drops. His eyes widen, frozen like a deer in the headlights. A tiny whimper slips out of his throat, and he feels his face and neck flood with heat all over again. Izuku’s eyes light up like he knows he’s hit the nail on the head, and he bites down on his lip through his smile, stifling it.
“That what you want, baby?” Izuku prompts, shifting closer so he’s leaning into Katsuki’s space, one hand planted on the sofa cushion beside his hip, the other landing on his thigh and sliding up, warm and heavy. Katsuki nods, his breath shuddering out of him and back in, and Izuku’s hand squeezes where it rests, high up on his thigh. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and then he kisses him, moving his lips immediately, tugging at Katsuki’s bottom lip with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He presses into his mouth, fitting them together in confident motions, their lips meshing with practiced ease. Hearing his words, Katsuki can’t stop a little rush of embarrassment at the way he starts to get wet, his scent amplifying.
Katsuki chases him when he pulls back, but Izuku retreats fully and grins at him. “See, that wasn’t so hard to talk about, was it?” Katsuki glares halfheartedly, pulse thumping. “I’ll make it worth it, Kacchan. Just for you.” Izuku smiles again, scrunching up his eyes and his freckled nose, and Katsuki melts. He’s already glad he did this. He tackles Izuku in a hug and wiggles on top of him, burrowing down and against the warm, solid bulk. Izuku will understand his gratitude just from that, but he still whispers it into the curve of his neck, then smiles at the undignified squeak Izuku lets out when he feels the coldness of Katsuki’s nose there.
“Why don’t you go relax, take a shower, and then I’ll make you feel so good, Kacchan,” Izuku says close to his ear, and Katsuki agrees in a heartbeat, squirming with embarrassment but looking forward to it nonetheless. Izuku really knows him so well. Katsuki is thrumming with excited energy as he disentangles himself; he’s turned on and certainly ready for it, but his pre-sex shower routine is important to him. Izuku had already showered after practice like usual, so Katsuki enjoys a few minutes of solitude to gather himself. He isn’t exactly sure what to expect.
When he goes into their bedroom, Izuku is shirtless and lounging on the bed, looking unfairly attractive. Really—it’s unreasonable—tousled hair, golden skin dotted with freckles, toned muscle shifting underneath. He stands when Katsuki comes in, backing him up against the door the second it clicks shut and caging him in with his arms; planting his hands on either side of Katsuki’s head, Izuku kisses him hard. “Hi,” he breathes out against Katsuki’s lips, then grins. “This, off.”
Plucking at the towel around Katsuki’s waist, he tosses it aside and lets his hands slide over the newly exposed skin, leaning in to kiss him again hungrily. The room is feeling hotter already, and Katsuki winds his arms around Izuku to pull him closer. Finding Katsuki’s ass with both hands, he grips firmly and tugs him forward to press up against where Izuku is already half hard in his sweats.
Katsuki makes a soft sound against Izuku’s mouth, and then Izuku is working Katsuki’s jaw open, licking into his mouth and moving to grip his chin, demanding and possessive as he grinds against him. It’s so easy for Izuku to just toss him around, and now that he has Katsuki’s permission to do so, he doesn’t disappoint. He bites at Katsuki’s lip when he moans, and grabs him around the hips, retreats from the doorway only to drag Katsuki along with him roughly. He throws him on the bed and has Katsuki pinned before he can struggle upright. Katsuki hardly squirms before he simply gives in.
Katsuki still forgets sometimes that Izuku is bigger than him now, stronger than him. He’d always been something of a late bloomer, and Katsuki was muscular himself, so most of the years they’d known each other, Izuku was the scrawny one trying to keep up with him. When he finally hit an alpha hormone-fueled growth spurt near the end of high school, he had just kept going; shooting up and filling out until his shoulders were broader, his legs and arms corded with more muscle; until Katsuki has to lift his head just slightly to make eye contact with him.
Izuku kisses nearly every inch of him, moving Katsuki’s body how he wants him and kissing along his shoulders, his chest, down his stomach. The mood is softer that he had expected, despite Izuku’s firm grip on his thighs and his hips, and the way he spreads Katsuki’s legs apart to make space for himself.
“Izuku,” he whispers into the room, and moans when he hand strokes his cock in a light grip. “’s good.” He cards his fingers through the mop of curls while Izuku’s mouth lavishes attention across his hips, down his thigh to the inside of his knee, then back up again. “More,” Katsuki breathes, pushing into his hand. He’s hard, his own scent cloying in the air around them as his slick starts to seep out. “Izuku—inside me.” Katsuki squirms under him, pushing his hips up into the friction and spreading his legs wider.
“Come on, I thought you wanted to be good,” Izuku teases, and he’s folding one leg up toward Katsuki’s chest. “Ask nicely.” Two fingers skim lightly over his ass cheek and then venture further, petting over where slick is leaking out of him. His touch is barely-there, and Katsuki presses against it in search of more. “Come on baby, say please.” Squeezing his eyes shut, breath shuddering out of his lungs, Katsuki does as he’s told.
“Please,” he says in a soft voice, and arches his body, making himself pretty for Izuku. “Please, Izuku, I want your fingers.” Izuku hums in approval, then both fingers are easing inside him. He’s relaxed, and it feels good as Izuku stretches him open.
“Perfect, Kacchan,” he whispers. His free hand is warm and strong where it holds Katsuki’s thigh pressed up for better access, and he settles lower to kiss at his inner thigh while he fingers him open. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into the skin, followed by the hot, open press of his mouth, soft lips and gentle suction, and Katsuki moans.
Izuku doesn’t tease much, just drags the pads of his fingers over his prostate with curling motions again and again, until Katsuki’s cock is leaking and Izuku’s fingers and palm are damp with slick. He praises Katsuki with each shift; every time he changes the attention of his mouth, when the third and fourth fingers slip inside, when he circles his thumb over the head of his cock.
Katsuki moans quietly as the sensations build, undulates his body with the touch, and doesn’t try to hide the pleasure it brings him. He lets Izuku set the pace, and it stays languid and indulgent. The unceasing attention hardly even gives Katsuki a chance to chase after more, to beg, to feel teased. “So beautiful, Kacchan,” Izuku whispers. He kisses messily at the head of his cock before sliding down to the base, and Katsuki’s head drops back, panting heavily.
“Please,” he gasps out when he can feel himself getting close, tremors in his legs, core tight. “Izuku, I’ll come, I’m—please—”
“Not yet, baby,” he curls his hand tight around the base of Katsuki’s cock, making him jolt, his hands clenching into fists. “You can come when I fuck you. You want to make your alpha feel good, don’t you?” Fuck.
“Yeah,” he pants, voice almost a whine. “Want you to—feel good. Please.” Katsuki wriggles under his hold, seeking more when Izuku’s hands leave him. Getting himself up on his elbows, he reaches for Izuku, and before he knows what’s happening, he’s flipped over onto his stomach, Izuku pulling his hips up into the air to make him present. “ Oh,” he gasps out, and tries to clamber up onto his hands and knees.
“Stay down, Kacchan,” Izuku’s hand is heavy and firm on the back of his neck, and the sound Katsuki lets out when Izuku pushes his face back down into the bed is obscene. “There we go, nice and pretty,” Izuku praises in a warm, rich tone, then he presses an arch into Katsuki’s lower back. The scent of both them is on the sheets, filling Katsuki’s nose, Izuku’s rainwater and earthiness, his own spice and fresh clean notes, the caramel sweetness of his arousal.
When Izuku fucks him, it’s just on the right side of hard, like he’s claiming Katsuki, like he wants him to feel every thrust, every inch, and know exactly who gets to do this to him. Katsuki has handed Izuku the reins, and he doesn’t fight him. And it feels good—the steady drag against his walls, the teasing stimulation of his prostate, Izuku’s easy control of the pace.
“Katsuki,” he moans, his hands bracing on the mattress on either side, leaning over him while his hips grind in deeply. “You feel so good, best I’ve ever had, baby.”
Katsuki whimpers, face buried in the pillow, and his breath is humid as he pants unevenly, body rocking back and forth with every thrust. It takes him by surprise when Izuku fists a hand in the roots of his hair, pulling back so he’s gasping in fresh, cold air. “Come on, let me hear you, Kacchan.” His voice is rough, pitchy with the way his keeps moving as he speaks, and Katsuki’s blood feels like it’s running hotter through his veins.
“Ahh, Izuku,” he whines. “Fuck—fuck, this is what I wanted—this is what I thought about.” It’s the truth; it’s not even some made-up dirty talk he’s pulling out of his ass. It’s like Izuku is going through a checklist of his every repressed desire and smoothly marking off each one.
“Yeah?” he says, satisfaction clouding his voice. His other hand grips at Katsuki hip, digging in hard, and it makes Katsuki feel almost woozy when he considers there might be bruises there later. “You wanted me to hold you down and fuck you? Tell you how good you are?”
“Yes, fuck,” he bites out, and tries to roll back against Izuku, but he’s hardly able to move at all. “Wanted it so bad, you have no idea.” His voice is wrecked “Alpha, oh, there—”
“Shit, baby,” Izuku gasps out, thrusting shallowly against his prostate. “You’ve always just wanted to be a good boy for your alpha, and look at you,” he says through shaky, heavy breathing. “So damn good, Katsuki.” Oh, he hardly ever cusses, only like this—when Katsuki’s body has made him feel too good to hold it back. He squeezes tight around Izuku’s cock and presses back onto him, moaning. The beginning of a knot is forming at the base of his cock, able to slip in and out but thickening steadily.
When Izuku pulls out, rolling him forcibly onto his back and yanking him further down on the bed, Katsuki scrambles into place, spreading his legs, only for Izuku to grip and drag them over his own shoulders. He leans down to hold himself up and bends Katsuki nearly in half, pushing back inside him in one go until his hipbones are flush with Katsuki’s ass.
Izuku fucks him in earnest again, until little sounds are punched out of Katsuki with every move; until he’s panting and groaning above Katsuki, muscles tight with exertion and body on the edge of release. Katsuki holds on, one hand gripping his hair, the other at his back, digging blunt nails into Izuku’s skin. “Katsuki, oh my god,” he exhales into his neck, dropping to one elbow, and takes in a lungful of his scent. "Baby."
He slows to a perfect, filthy grind, releasing Katsuki’s legs so they slide down to bracket the dip of his waist, and the rhythm seems to melt, shift into something unbearably hot and intimate. Despite the edge of rough treatment, Katsuki realizes everything has been soothing in a way that he hadn’t known he was missing. It feels so right. The pheromones of his alpha hover all around him, and his nerves are all prickling with tension, pleasure.
Izuku purrs when Katsuki arches his neck, tilting his head back and baring his throat of his own accord. It’s a deep vibration in his chest, showing how much he likes it. Izuku usually has to coax that out of Katsuki, get him to relent, and sometimes he won’t at all. It’s so stupid, because Katsuki loves the feeling when Izuku kisses his neck like this and sets his teeth to the scent gland, breathes in Katsuki’s scent like it’s intoxicating. The way he pants hotly against the skin and bites with gentle, blunt pressure sends something unfamiliar through Katsuki, indescribable. He clings onto Izuku’s shoulders, legs tight around his waist, and basks in the quickening build-up. Izuku kisses over Katsuki’s scent gland, holding him, whispering his name.
His scent is all around Katsuki, cedar trees, petrichor, and Katsuki can feel the knot pressing up against his entrance, swelling even larger. He likes being knotted, even though his own body can’t reciprocate; he loves feeling of Izuku’s cock lodging in him, releasing deep inside, stretching him open. Maybe he’s never been able to hide how much he likes it, and it was silly to think he could. He pants, his excitement rising up as he feels Izuku getting more urgent—closer. He’s getting close himself, the steady friction against his prostate winding him up.
“Feels so good, ’m close,” he says through his heavy breathing, and Izuku moans, kisses his neck again.
“Me too, Kacchan, gonna knot you, fill you up with my cum,” his voice is so rough.
“Please,” Katsuki begs, eyes squeezing shut, walls clenching. “Want your knot, please.”
“Fuck,” he grits out, and Katsuki arches up, mouth dropping open. It’s so rare when Izuku says that; he loves it, it feels uncontrolled, like Katsuki’s making him lose all sense. Izuku’s firm, shallow thrusts stutter, and he pushes forward hard, the knot sliding inside him just in time to expand fully. It’s so big, blocking out all the room for air, and Katsuki gasps. His own body is thrumming, so close, so close—
The sudden foreign sensation takes him completely off-guard. He whimpers sharply as his walls seize up, seal, constrict around Izuku inside him. He can’t relax the grip, fuck, what’s happening —Izuku gasps above him too, the muscles in his back rippling as a shiver goes through him.
Katsuki is panicking. His heart rate skyrockets, blood rushing in his ears. “Izu—Izuku—” he gasps out, alarmed and shaky, reaches for his alpha. Then the pleasure hits.
His climax sears through him, shivering out from his core and spreading heat along his limbs, and he moans, undulating through the blinding sensation. He dimly feels Izuku kissing over his scent gland, teeth scraping it, and Katsuki presses into it. His head is spinning, and the bliss of orgasm is still washing over him, and it’s still just—it’s not stopping. It’s still going, and he cries out, whimpers, squirms under Izuku’s warm weight. His whole body is tensing, hips jerking and his hole clenching rhythmically. Izuku groans again, heavy against his neck, and he matches it with his own desperate sound. He can’t breathe; he can’t suck in enough air and he’s just gasping uselessly, sweat-damp and practically convulsing. He’s like a vice around Izuku’s cock, forcing the alpha in place, and he can’t think straight.
It’s good—it feels so fucking good, like an orgasm that’s not ending—it must have been nearly a minute now—and he can hardly think through the haze of pleasure, tinged with fear, confusion. “Izuku,” he cries out again, desperate, nails digging into him. “Izuku, what’s—” his face is wet with his own tears, and he twists, pressing his cheek into the pillow. The alpha’s weight that sinks down on him is grounding, and Izuku cages him in and holds him against the bed, cooing.
“Kacchan, baby, I got you,” he says, strokes his heaving side. “Kacchan, my beautiful Kacchan. You’re okay.” He’s locked. He locked around Izuku’s knot, his own body fastening them together while he shudders. Spots are dancing in his vision, and it’s just pleasure, white hot.
Katsuki pants as it subsides, leaving him shaking and weak. They’re fully sealed together, both bodies reciprocating the action. It feels different from just the knot; he can feel the tug from the inside, his own flesh gripping onto his alpha when he shifts minutely inside Katsuki. He whimpers, and Izuku nudges his head back, licks over his scent gland. “Kacchan, it’s alright,” he soothes, lips tickling where they move against his skin. “Everything’s alright, honey.” Katsuki lies there, held still under him, and lets his breathing calm.
He just had an orgasm that lasted a minute straight. Fuck. It takes a moment for his brain to fully process everything, and they’re still tethered even as he comes down.
“Are you alright?” Izuku asks him, nosing at his cheek now, then moving up to kiss him softly.
“Yeah,” he says when they break apart, then presses another soft kiss to Izuku’s lips. He sniffles, blinks away the tears. This is fucking embarrassing. He locked, he finally did what he’s wanted for years, and it startled him so badly that he’s actually crying. “I’m fine.”
“Sorry, honey. Weren’t expecting that, huh?” Izuku asks. His eyes are so big and shiny, and Katsuki can see his own reflection in them. He looks messy, and oddly satisfied. “I just...fuck, Kacchan,” Izuku drops his head back down to Katsuki’s neck. “Baby. You’re fucking incredible,” he whispers. Katsuki feels his cheeks get hot.
“I—it’s just,” he falters. “Sorry, I got...” he swallows. Hiding his emotions does him no good, and admitting the things he feels does not make him weak. He reminds himself, and then speaks. “I got really freaked out for a minute.” He squeezes his hands into fists behind Izuku’s back, then releases, over and over. He wants comfort.
“Mm, I could tell,” Izuku hums, huffing a semblance of a laugh against his collarbone, but he nuzzles closer and there’s a wash of soothing alpha pheromones that set him at ease. He pulls back after a second to look Katsuki in the eyes, holding his face between both palms. “I’m sorry that was a scary experience for you. I wish you could have fully enjoyed it.” Katsuki nods and is quiet for a second. It’s a little bit humiliating, the way that Izuku is cooing at him, saying it was a scary experience. Like a kid who just had a nightmare. It’s mostly embarrassing because he’s right, and he’s making Katsuki feel better. “I want you to feel good. I want to see you come apart like that when all you feel is pleasure.”
Katsuki’s face goes pinker at that, and he scrunches it up, trying to cover himself with his hands, but Izuku laughs and wrestles them away. Katsuki doesn’t really even try to resist. “I’m serious. That was...it was incredible. But it would be so much better if you were enjoying yourself, Kats. I guess it caught us off guard this time, but now we’ll know to be ready.” Katsuki’s inhale hitches, and he smiles helplessly, still feeling like jelly. Now that he’s calmed, Katsuki can absorb the fact that he just locked for the first time. With Izuku, the person he loves the most, the only one he wants.
He did it. He finally did it.
“Yeah,” Katsuki wipes at the half dried tears on his cheeks and blinks up at Izuku’s wide eyes, bright and loving and so full of tenderness. He smiles despite himself, eyes almost squeezing shut, and Izuku returns it, his happy scent blooming in the space around them. Katsuki nuzzles over his gland, seeking it out, sighing and letting his body relax, content to breathe that it. There’s nothing—absolutely nothing in the world like Izuku’s scent for him. It unwinds his tension in a way that nothing else does. He feels safe.
“You smell good,” Izuku murmurs against his collarbone. “Cardamom…caramel. Some clean stuff.” Like Katsuki doesn’t know what he smells like; like Izuku hasn’t written speeches about his scent already. His description right now isn’t very poetic, and Katsuki smiles at the ceiling. He wriggles, and Izuku presses in tighter, breathes in.
Katsuki makes a soft, pleased sound when Izuku starts to move his hips, just barely. The way they’re connected doesn’t give him much space, but he can grind in place, cock pushing right up against his prostate still. Katsuki had never gone fully soft, with all the newness and chaos his body had experienced today. Izuku’s knot is stretching him wide, and now he’s stiffening up even more, still inside him: Katsuki squirms at the stimulation. “Izuku,” he says, content but questioning, his hands fisting in dark green hair.
He’s loose-limbed and can’t muster up a lot of energy, but he reciprocates the motion lazily, arms and legs curled around the alpha. Right away it’s almost too much. He can’t understand, how just a few seconds of slow grinding has him already wound tight and teetering on the edge of something. It builds up faster than he thought possible, pulled out of him by the steady friction and the haze of pheromones making his head fuzzy. He isn’t even fully hard again, he’s oversensitive and tingling, and yet—
Izuku sucks gently at the base of his neck, strokes over Katsuki’s sides and slides under his back to press so he’s arched up against his firm body. He keeps grinding in, deliberate and small rolls of his hips, and Katsuki—fuck, he’s—
He tips over that edge, and he’s coming again, the locking muscles inside him spasming, tightening up around Izuku even more and drawing out a guttural sound that barely filters through to Katsuki’s brain. His own voice rises into an unsteady cadence, pulled from his lungs and distant to his ears. It’s a pulsing, rhythmic wash of bliss, and every rational thought in his head crumbles away like sand through his fingers. His vision whites out and he shakes apart, gasping and arching, twitching as pleasure lights up his nerve endings and doesn’t stop. It’s just as intense as before, just a drawn-out and mind-numbing and heart-stopping. This time, with just a precious second of anticipation, the knowledge of what was coming, he gives in and lets it wash over him. No panic this time, just ecstasy . Katsuki lies there, shivering, bliss singing through his body, and feels.
When he opens his eyes, Izuku is looking at him like he’s seen god.
And Katsuki understands. Izuku himself is almost glowing. The scent of him is all around Katsuki, blending with his own to cradle him, stretching out the euphoria into infinity. He’s all around him, inside him, and Katsuki bares his throat. Izuku is blinking dazedly, breathing heavily. “Katsuki,” he whispers. “Love you, Kacchan, love you so much.” He drags his mouth over Katsuki’s throat, kisses him there, then up, along his jaw, over his cheek, to his lips. Izuku kisses his mouth desperately, like he’s pouring a piece of his soul into him.
Katsuki returns it, eager, tender. “Izuku,” he mumbles. “Love you.” He feels vulnerable in a way that should make him uncomfortable, but he can’t be. Izuku is locked inside him, drowning him with warmth and everything good, everything he wants, exactly what he needs. “My alpha,” he mumbles, hazy. Izuku inhales shakily and drops his forehead down, breathes against Katsuki’s sternum, then inches to the side and kisses there, open mouthed. Right over the frantic beat of Katsuki’s heart. He lingers.
“Omega,” Izuku says, softly. “My omega.”
“Yours,” Katsuki agrees, sliding a hand into his curls. They’re soft against his palm, slipping through his fingers. “My alpha.” His other hand traces the line of Izuku’s spine, feeling every dip and minute shift.
“Yeah,” Izuku breathes, laughing. “Yours.” He kisses him again on the mouth, open and giving. “You’re all mine, Kacchan. My omega.”
Katsuki nods, unsure what expression is on his face. He feels a little giddy right now. He’s finally reciprocating something that Izuku has felt for him for so long. He knows he’s letting off a clean, happy scent, and it’s involuntary so he can’t stop it. Izuku purrs, licks at his neck, and brings Katsuki’s wrist up to swipe it back and forth it firmly over his own neck, scenting. He nudges his glands against Katsuki’s, dipping down to twist and rub their necks together until their scents are all muddied, his chest still vibrating with that contended humming sound.
It’s something that only alphas do, and it’s only in response to content omega pheromones—the ones Katsuki can’t stop pouring out like the world is going to end and he needs to do it now. This is the best he’s ever felt.
It takes a while for the lock to loosen, but he stays calm about it. Not like the first time Izuku had knotted him, and sent Katsuki into a minor meltdown when he couldn’t separate after five minutes. A panic he had tried to disguise with anger that Izuku saw right through and soothed. Knotting times depending on a lot of factors, and Katsuki had heard that it was usually around 2 minutes. Trust, compatible scents, and strong desire for your partner could make it longer.
So maybe Izuku had been ready for him even back then. That’s how things have been most of the time in their relationship—Izuku ready, open, trusting, giving; but always trading carefully. Because Katsuki wasn’t all of those things, and Izuku didn’t want to push him.
Fucking Todoroki was right. All it took was Katsuki being comfortable with himself for this to work; being honest, showing himself a bit of patience, relenting. Letting both himself and Izuku settle into their instincts without Katsuki trying to stomp all over them for the sake of preserving his bullshit reputation.
He feels unbelievably soft and mushy, like the entire world could fall to pieces around them and none of it would matter as long as Izuku was holding him. Absolutely ridiculous. He couldn’t even muster up a pissed-off, snarky comment right now if he tried.
Katsuki loves it.
--
Katsuki would like to say that his moment of post-nut clarity is just that. But in reality, he continues to float through the next week of his life in a blissful haze, feeling nearly drunk on his own happiness. He lets Izuku wrap his arms around Katsuki in front of their friends, nuzzle into his neck and his cheek, tell Katsuki how much he loves him. Every time they have sex now, his body locks, and the rush of pheromones bolsters their commitment and unspoken bond.
His heat arrives early, nearly a month early. His cycle is usually a precise three-month circuit, down to the very day. The only time it had been wrong was years ago, shortly after he had run into Izuku, when the alpha’s pheromones had triggered him early.
Katsuki feels a bit young and out of control again, but of course, Izuku is nearly overjoyed at having the chance to help him to the fullest extent this time. Each time Katsuki’s arousal peaks, Izuku makes him come as many times as it takes until he’s limp and pliant, then knots him and works him through the drawn-out waves of pleasure as he locks.
And between those bouts of need, Izuku coddles the ever-loving fuck out of him.
“This is excessive.”
“Wha—no!” Izuku argues, head snapping up. He has Katsuki’s favorite protein bar flavor—the chocolate and caramel one—on a cutting board, and he’s chopped it into little pieces so he can hand feed them to Katsuki in his nest. “It’s not excessive. You’re my sweet boy, Kacchan. Open...” Rolling his eyes and ignoring the warm fuzzy feeling, he lets Izuku feed him little bites, praising him between each one and lingering, brushing over his lips until Katsuki sucks the little remnants of melted chocolate off his fingertips.
“There we go, water now,” he also holds that and tilts the glass for Katsuki to sip at. “Do you need anything, baby? More blankets, a massage? Oh, do you want your plushie?”
Not even waiting for an answer, he hunts around in the tangle of sheets for the soft lion plushie he’d bought after saying it reminded him of Katsuki. “Here, baby… oh you’re so darling. The sweetest,” he whispers when Katsuki accepts it and hugs the soft toy to his chest. “Look at you,” he breathes, eyes getting shiny.
“Izuku, don’t make me regret this and take away your pampering privileges,” he mumbles. He wouldn’t dream of it, really. Besides, he can smell Izuku is dipping into a pre-rut—the alpha probably doesn’t even realize it yet, he’s so focused on Katsuki—and his omega’s rejection would be even more hurtful because of it.
“No, Kacchan,” he gasps, a desperate edge in his voice, pheromones spiking. Izuku is so sensitive to his every response when Katsuki is in heat and he’s close to a rut, his protective alpha instinct on a hairpin trigger. “Baby, you wouldn’t. My love, my angel,” he kisses the back of Katsuki’s hand. Jesus, he’s so over-the-top sometimes, but he’s so earnest about every action that he doesn’t even realize or care. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Izuku insists. His hand pushes back Katsuki’s bangs to feel his forehead, and he tuts thoughtfully. “Here, lie back, you’re feeling warm again.” Izuku helps him settle comfortably on his back against the blankets, cradles his neck to lift him and fluff the pillow under his head.
Then hurrying to grab the bowl of ice water from on top of the dresser, he settles down close against Katsuki, and dampens a cloth. Wringing it out, he lays it across Katsuki’s forehead and coos when the sudden temperature change makes him shiver. “There, is that better?” Katsuki nods. It actually does feel better; he hadn’t even realized he was getting overheated again. “Kacchan, do you want me to play with your hair until you fall asleep?”
“Mm,” he agrees, then looks up. “Izuku.” The nerd’s eyes are big and sparkly again, watching him expectantly. Holding the plushie in one hand, Katsuki stretches out his other one. “Hold me?” He asks in a needy, whiny tone, just the one that he knows will get Izuku absolutely dying to provide for him.
For a second, everything goes completely still, their surroundings fading into the background. Then Izuku melts, absolutely helpless. Hah. He’s so easy.