Chapter Text
Izuku sleeps on his shoulder. Half on his lap, body sprawled across the couch. Katsuki scrolls through his phone mindlessly. He’s not really looking at anything – he just needs an excuse to stay still. Denki comes to bother him once, a book held close to his chest because he forgot his homework – again – and Katsuki just shakes his head. Feels Izuku’s hair tickle under his chin. Leans into it slightly. Breathes him in.
Izuku nudges closer.
Uraraka comes next, but she comes to check on Izuku.
She’s safe. The thought is distant, like Katsuki’s floating under water. She says nothing. Smiles at him and claps her hands together soundlessly. Katsuki lets her wander in and out of his bubble for a moment, before she gestures to her phone. His own buzzes in his hand.
Unknown Contact : Cute!
Me : Fuck off.
She smiles.
Unknown Contact : I wanted to see if Midoriya wanted to come out tonight.
Katsuki presses his cheek to Izuku’s head.
Me : I said fuck off.
She jumps, once, twice, more like a hop. Then she darts off.
He feels calm, for once. Omega tucked under his arm, nothing pressing down on him, Izuku feeling safe curled on his chest. He’s been craving this lately. Izuku used to sneak into his room to satisfy their dynamics, but lately he’s been nesting with other Omegas. It’s pissing him off. But he would never say it out loud.
So when Izuku flopped down on the couch next to him, he wordlessly opened his arms and let him sink against his chest. Second nature now, after so many years of holding Izuku in his bed. He’s never been able to satisfy this side of himself with anyone else.
No one smells right. Only Izuku.
He hums, low in his throat, almost a purr. Izuku shifts slightly.
Katsuki doesn’t move.
Not for hours. Even when his phone dies. Even when he thumbs through Izuku’s phone and that dies too. Not until the sun comes up and the dorm starts bustling again, and Izuku’s eyes open. He blinks at Katsuki blearily. Smiles sleepily. Pats him on the chest. Noses into his throat and shudders.
“You stayed.” He breathes, and Katsuki only presses a kiss to his temple.
Always.
He leans his head back over the arm of the couch, muscles in his neck protesting, and someone’s hand is in his face, reaching for Izuku to ruffle his hair where he lay on Katsuki’s chest.
The urge rises in him hot and sharp and all instincts, teeth snapping over empty air as the hand jerks back.
“Jesus, Bakugou, take it easy.”
Shinso. Just a Beta. Katsuki hisses through his teeth. Izuku presses a kiss to his jaw. “Don’t do that, Kacchan.” He hums, and Katsuki scrunches his face up at Shinso. He says nothing.
Izuku huffs against his throat, hands digging into Katsuki’s pecs and abs as he uses him as a springboard. Katsuki lets out a soft ooft as the Omega manhandles him into a better position. Rubs their throats together, purrs vibrating between them. Then lifts Katsuki’s hands, presses his wrists to his throat. Grinds against him accidentally as he marks Katsuki the way he likes.
His breath catches, senses overloaded with Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. The need to mark him flares in his chest, and he drags Izuku’s wrists over his throat slower. Sees his eyes widen, nostrils flaring. His own fangs grow sharp in his mouth, and he feels Izuku’s full body shudder as they ghost across the soft skin bared to him.
Izuku kneels between his legs.
Katsuki swallows.
“Kacchan,” Izuku nips at his collar, and Katsuki’s heart kicks. “Make me breakfast?” He pushes up again, and Katsuki struggles to draw in a breath against the weight settling on his pecs. He moves Izuku’s hands to his shoulders. He huffs.
“Tell me what you want or you’re getting nothing.” His voice is warbled, tongue all wrong in his mouth around his teeth. His grip tightens around the Omega’s wrists. Izuku grins up at him. Scrabbles to his feet, and singsongs his way to the kitchen. He hip checks Shinso, and Katsuki throws his head back again.
Swears when his neck twinges.
Pretends he’s wiping sleep from his eyes so he can inhale the scent lingering on his wrists.
“Katsudon!” He calls from the kitchen. Katsuki rolls the tension from his shoulders. Stands. Ignores the gleam in Uraraka’s eyes. “You’re not having katsudon for breakfast, idiot.”
His fists clench. Unclench. Rolls his neck, shoulders, shakes the leftover tension from his arms. Ignores the fact he almost took Shinso’s hand off. Ignores the feeling curling in his gut – he’s upset he didn’t. It’s been a week since he’s had the opportunity to mark Izuku like that. He’s been spending so much time with the other Omegas lately.
“Omelette, then.” Izuku huffs. Taps his foot impatiently. Folds his arms over his chest and Katsuki directs him to sit.
When Kirishima comes to the kitchen, yawning, sharp teeth flashing as he scrubs a hand up his shirt, he moves immediately to ruffle Izuku’s hair. Natural. Normal. Easy touches they’ve shared for years.
Katsuki tips his head. The move is predatory. He supposes he should be used to it by now, but Izuku smiles up at Kirishima and leans into the touch. When Izuku settles himself into a stool, Katsuki runs his own hand through the soft green strands. Kirishima mutters a half-awake good morning and rummages through the fridge. Pulls out a juice box.
Izuku looks up at him, eyes bright and wide and leans into the touch. Good. Look at me like that.
He grips the strands and forcibly shakes Izuku’s head. “Omelette.” Izuku’s hands fly to his wrist as he pouts. Katsuki stares down at him for a moment. Look only at me.
Uraraka drapes herself over Izuku as Katsuki moves into the kitchen. Izuku leans into the touch, but she huffs against his shoulder and makes a retching sound. “Bakugou really does stink.” She sticks a finger into her open mouth in a gagging motion.
“How many times do you need to be told to fuck off in one day before you get it through your thick fucking skull?” Katsuki hisses. She smiles at him, tucks her hands behind her back. Drops her eyes. Submits, but the fight doesn’t bleed out of her. Katsuki clicks his tongue and turns his attention to the eggs in front of him.
Izuku lifts his shirt to his nose. Katsuki wants to grin something feral.
“I think he smells good.” He hums, and Uraraka makes another distasteful noise before throwing herself at Mina. Katsuki’s heart soars.
He cooks. Bats Denki off him when he begs for food too. Serves himself, then Izuku, so he knows he has the temperature right and so Izuku’s food doesn’t go cold because he knows he would wait for him to eat. Barely tastes his own food as Izuku shovels his into his mouth. I did that. See how well I can take care of you?
Izuku beams at him. He takes it in. Commits it to memory. “Don’t be nasty.” Is what comes out of his mouth. Izuku doesn’t even bat his eyes.
“Kacchan!” He eats the remainder of Katsuki’s omelette from his plate. Katsuki lets him. Momo stares at them from the doorway. Katsuki says nothing to her as Izuku bounds into his arms. Her gaze narrows slightly, head tilting as she scents the air, and something in her expression shifts. Softens for a moment before she holds her hand up to her nose and waves. You stink.
Oh.
He blinks dumbly at her as Izuku darts around him. Momo is arguably the only other Alpha he doesn’t mind. Kirishima sometimes, but he can get clingy. Todoroki grinds his gears in a violent way.
Izuku yanks on his shirt so hard he hears his own spine crack with the force of it. His eyes snap down, then back up, and Momo is twirling Uraraka softly, smile on her face. He doesn’t mind other Omegas, not really, and it’s in his very nature to protect them, so he understands it when he sees these soft displays of affection.
He just doesn’t have the urge to touch anyone else.
Izuku catches Uraraka’s eyes, and then they’re off. He skirts past Momo. Doesn’t touch her. Good. Then he’s waving back at Katsuki with a soft goodbye and a “I’ll see you later!”
Momo doesn’t move.
“Will you skip class today, Bakugou?” She asks, and he shakes his head.
“Nah. Got one more day in me.” He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t need to reassure her. She nods. Turns her back on him. She’s always had a sensitive nose.
Katsuki heads back to his room to shower. Throws his shirt onto his bed rather than into his wash basket. Plugs his phone in and shamelessly inhales the smell on his wrists and shudders. He wants Izuku. Bad.
True to his word, classes are smooth. He’s irritated, but nothing new. He reaches back often, Izuku grabbing his hand every time, shuffling their desks closer for easier reach. Izuku’s thumb ghosts over his knuckles. When Izuku begins to purr, he lets him go. Those noises are only for me.
He’s heated and achy when he gets back to his dorm room. Annoyed, at everything. At the way his shirt catches on his skin. The way his sweat feels on his palms. The tick of his fan. The shower is too hot, too cold. The tiles aren’t punch-able.
His snarl is low, reverberating, and he slips naked into bed, holds the shirt up to his nose, and grips his cock. He breathes Izuku in, feels the whine crawling up his chest. It cuts off into a whimper. He lets the fabric sit against his tongue, as if he’d be able to draw the taste of his Omega out. The smell on his own skin is maddeningly gentle, and he thrusts up into his fist viciously. Fuck. He wants to hear Izuku’s cries. Wants to taste his slick. Wants to sink his teeth into his nape, into his thighs, into his wrists. Make him bleed.
He thinks of Izuku above him. And no, no, I’ll pin him down and fuck him.
But he dwells on it for a minute. That he could lay on his back and offer his Omega every inch of him. Izuku wouldn’t be able to muffle his cries. Would grind down on his cock and he’d be wet, and needy, and Katsuki would grip his hips and let him take from him.
Let me submit to you.
He comes, blindsided, body jerking with it. It shoots in ropes over his belly and his chest heaves. What the fuck?
His phone dings, a happy little All Might chime that Izuku had set his contact to. He checks it bonelessly.
Deku <3 : Coming over Kacchan
He swallows thickly. Izuku has been around him and his ruts for a long time. He’s the only Omega he likes in his bubble while he is rutting – loves to tuck the Omega in against his chest and let his smell soothe the beast inside him. Izuku is all hands and motion and motormouth, and something about him makes Katsuki’s head quiet.
Me : K.
Another message pops up on his screen. He swipes down on it.
Red : Take a suppressant
Red : Please
He laughs loudly and raps his knuckles against the wall that separates his room from Kirishima’s. There’s a tap in response.
He breathes deep, has another shower, and this time he gets dressed. He’s still hard, images still flashing through his mind, and he tries not to dwell on the fact that he wants Izuku to pin him down and ride him for hours.
Dwells on it anyway, because he’s weak.
Izuku doesn’t knock. He scrunches his nose slightly when he enters but flings himself onto Katsuki’s bed anyway. He shuffles the pillows how he likes. Taps his fingers against the wall with a soft, “Hi, Kiri.”
Kirishima knocks back. Katsuki watches him for a heartbeat. Fluffing Katsuki’s pillows, yanking up the sheets and then settling them again. Smoothing everything with his hands. Katsuki swallows a suppressant – you’re welcome, Red – and waits for Izuku. He wonders if the look on his face is fond.
Scowls, just to make sure it isn’t.
Izuku chirps softly, settles into the corner of the bed against the wall, and then opens his arms wide with a grin.
“Like this, tonight?” Katsuki debates it.
What does he need from his little Omega right now?
He huffs. Crawls towards Izuku, cocks his head, and Izuku welcomes him in with hands on his cheeks. Katsuki presses a kiss to each palm before Izuku shifts slightly. He pats the pillow in his lap. Katsuki goes obediently.
You’re so fucking whipped.
Katsuki settles. Izuku’s fingers trail over his face, down his collar, over his shoulders, and back. He settles into the touch. It satisfies the side of him that needs this – this touch. Knowing Izuku feels safe enough to be this soft with him. Knowing that he feels safe enough to surrender to him when his head gets too loud and the instincts flare too sharp.
Izuku scratches against his scalp, and he sighs. Katsuki hums. Izuku is quiet for a moment, just watching him, taking him in. Katsuki closes his eyes.
Izuku purrs.
Katsuki knows there’s a side of Izuku that enjoys this too – that enjoys being able to touch freely. Enjoys doting. Izuku’s phone buzzes in his pocket under Katsuki’s head. Without opening his eyes, Katsuki asks, “Who is it?”
Izuku fishes it from his pocket.
“Shoto.” He answers.
There it is. His breath catches. His fists clench. Izuku purrs down at him, what is meant to be a soothing noise completely misfires in Katsuki’s brain. “Don’t make that noise after saying another mans name.” He snaps. Izuku’s hands still on his shoulders.
“You do this with him too?” He looks up finally, at Izuku as he looms over him. He doesn’t meet his eyes. Katsuki hates the fear that dwells there. The desire to submit to him. The need to keep Katsuki calm.
“Jealous?” He asks instead, and Katsuki blinks at him.
“Very.”
Izuku’s smirk falters. His nails scratch at the skin under Katsuki’s shirt, hands snaking down over his collarbone. Then the smile comes back, and Izuku cocks his head. “Don’t joke about things like that.”
Katsuki nips at his forearm.
The jealousy sits, hot and wanting and settling into something ugly in his guts. “You’re the one holding back on me. I think I’m pretty fuckin’ honest with you.” He doesn’t mean for the words to come out so soft. Wishes there was more bite in his voice.
“I adore you, Kacchan.” Is what he gets back.
Cop out. Look at me when you answer me. Tell me I’m the only one. Need me. Want me.
Katsuki reaches up and tugs on his shirt, then pulls at his collar, then yanks the scent patch off of Izuku’s throat. He makes a startled squeak. His scent rushes out, hot and needy and perfect and Katsuki loses his train of thought.
He takes a deep breath, lets Izuku’s scent sit in his lungs, vanilla and faintly cinnamon and disarmingly honest. “Tell me.” His voice is ragged.
Izuku’s smell spikes – excitement, fear, anxiety. It all swells and rises and crashes into Katsuki’s chest.
“No. I don’t do this with him.” He peers down at Katsuki.
“Only me?” He sounds small. Izuku nods. “… and still?”
Still you won’t let me take you. Still you won’t let me fuck you. Still you won’t let me claim you. Can’t you see how hard I’m trying to hold myself back?
Izuku presses a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s not talk about this while you’re rutting.”
Then when?
He wants to scream.
“Deku.” He could push him. He could command him. He could make him. He stays still in Izuku’s lap and lets the instincts wash over him. Izuku smiles softly. He knows he won’t. He exhales. Sits in Izuku’s smell, in the touch of his hands ghosting over his skin. “Talk.” He manages.
Izuku does.
Katsuki relaxes into his lap. In the cadence of his voice. In the way his fingers dig into his skin when he gets excited about something. In the way his scent is embedding itself into Katsuki’s very soul.
It soothes the ache in his chest.
Mine, for now.
He falls asleep like that.
When he wakes up, Izuku now curled into his chest, spine to sternum, he still feels the rage bubbling in his chest. His fingers drum against Izuku’s ribs. He ghosts a kiss over his nape, jaw unlocking slowly, licking a wet stripe over the muscle there. Izuku stirs. His teeth nick against the skin.
He swallows down a moan.
“Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice is soft. One hand is curled against Katsuki’s forearm where it’s stretched under his head. The other grips Katsuki’s wrist where it lays against his waist. He can smell how much Izuku wants it.
So why?
He groans. Nips at his shoulder instead to sate the urge to bite. Izuku giggles, rolls when Katsuki flops onto his back.
“Just once.” He rasps, staring at the ceiling. Izuku pouts into his chest. Then he offers him his wrist.
Katsuki’s heart stutters.
“I’m going out with Shoto today. This will make you feel better right?” He scoots up, leans over slightly. Shuffles up onto his knees, hesitates, then straddles Katsuki’s hips.
The sound that comes out of him is feral.
Izuku puts his wrists out. Nothing binding. But definitely something. Something to slake the incessant desire that writhes in Katsuki’s chest. He swallows. “Stay with me.” He cocks his head. Lifts his hips slightly, feels his cock grind against Izuku’s ass. Izuku’s jaw tightens.
“I promised him. And it isn’t like you can come with us right now.” He closes his eyes. Scoffs.
“This is nothing.” His hands come down onto Izuku’s thighs, climbing higher, and the Omega lets him. They slide under the legs of his pants, fingers digging in, thumbs brushing his cock. Izuku startles. He shakes his wrists.
“Last chance.” He wriggles.
Katsuki could cum right there.
He growls, something low and nasty in his chest, and Izuku’s eyes half lid under his attention. Katsuki takes one wrist, presses it to his mouth, and sinks his teeth in harder than necessary. If he can’t have his throat, can’t have the one bite that matters, he’ll take this and embed it into Izuku’s skin.
He moans when the blood hits his tongue. Izuku does too, a whiny, breathy noise that shudders from his throat. Katsuki’s eyes snap up. Izuku has two fingers from his free hand in his mouth, hips rocking, face flushed. His scent flares hot and wanting. Katsuki fights the urge to bite harder, dig claws into his hips, pin him down underneath him.
Let’s Izuku perch up there because fuck, that’s sexy. He’s rock-hard underneath Izuku, cock straining, rubbing against Izuku’s own bulge as he thrusts his hips. Katsuki reaches out, palm up, and Izuku wordlessly hands him his other wrist.
Katsuki bites into that one too. He can feel the blood smearing against his face. He pulls up for an instant, laps at the new marks on tanned skin, feels a happy thrill run down his spine.
He pats Izuku’s thighs. “Here too?”
Izuku blinks down at him. The flush creeps down his chest, disappearing under his shirt. His fingers twist into Katsuki’s shirt.
For a moment, Katsuki thinks he might deny him. Sees the small shake of his head. Then he shudders. Nods. He shifts his weight, prepares to sling his leg over Katsuki and lay back.
Katsuki grips his calves. Holds him steady. Shakes his head.
“From there.” He breathes.
Sit on my face.
Izuku’s eyes widen. His hands come up to cover his face. He squeaks into his palms.
“No way, Kacchan, no way.” He trembles. Katsuki puts a bit of edge into his voice. A push, a brush against Izuku’s submissive nature. “Yes way. Get up here.” He pats his own chest.
Izuku moves a fraction. Still in control. He wobbles on his knees as he takes his pants off, one leg at a time, eyes filling with tears as Katsuki yanks him higher.
“Okay?” He asks, pressing a kiss to Izuku’s cock. Izuku nods after a moment. Katsuki pulls him all the way up. He doesn’t settle his weight, but Katsuki is already in heaven. He’s slick, thighs dripping with it, trembling with need, scent so heady here Katsuki thinks he’s going to cum from this alone. He laps at the slick on Izuku’s skin, moans with the taste of it. Izuku presses one hand into his hair, the other gripping the headboard.
Katsuki spots the new mark on his wrist, Izuku grinds down on his face with a moan, and when he looks down at Katsuki, he bites hard into his thigh.
Katsuki snarls as he comes. Izuku stammers an apology as his own cock shoots ropes over Katsuki’s head, onto the bed. Katsuki doesn’t relent. His teeth dig in, blood spurting into his mouth, slick following, and he sucks it into his mouth. Holds it on his tongue. Memorizes the flavour, so uniquely Izuku.
When he moves to the other side, Izuku’s cock leaps and he comes again. Katsuki’s fingers dig into the meat of his ass. When he’s satisfied, when he licks up the blood and the slick and the taste of Izuku’s arousal, he throws his head back into the pillows and looks up at him. Izuku is wrecked. He’s shaking.
His tongue swipes out to clear the remnants from his lips. Izuku’s eyes follow the movement. He smirks. Izuku settles back onto his stomach, sitting there for a moment, and Katsuki breathes in ragged breathes. He’s still so close. He can feel his slick dripping onto his shirt.
“Thank you.” He hums. He does feel better. Izuku offers him a shaky smile. He rubs soothing circles into Izuku’s inner thighs. Neither of them moves for a while.
Now, when he goes to meet Shoto, he’s going to reek of Katsuki. Is going to wear his marks for a week. If he comes back, Katsuki doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself. The flavour of Izuku still on his tongue. His cum drying in his pants. Izuku’s own staining his sheets. Even if he comes back stinking of Shoto, Katsuki could fix it. Could make that scent go away in seconds.
“Don’t come back tonight.”
Izuku looks wounded. He makes a pitiful noise, leans forward slightly, weight settling properly as he spreads his legs wider. “You’re doing all that… and kicking me out?” He whines. Katsuki barks a laugh.
“I’m not kicking you out.” He pulls Izuku down into a cuddle. When he starts to feel trapped underneath him, he rolls Izuku onto his back. He rests his chin on his sternum. “It’s not easy to hold back, you know?” Izuku’s eyes widen slightly. He nods. His instinct wars with his logic, he can see it in his eyes.
“Can I… still text you?” He asks nervously. Katsuki nods, then rests his cheek over Izuku’s heart. Listens to it beat, fast and hard under him.
“What are you going to do?” He asks, conversational. He picks at the lint just beside Izuku’s ribs. Izuku ruffles his hair and wriggles his way free. “He’s taking me shopping.”
He’s buying you gifts.
“Something about my wardrobe being out of season?” He pulls his pants on.
“It is.”
“Then lunch. Do you… want me to bring you something back?”
A date? It’s a date. You’re going on a fucking date.
He swallows.
“No.”
Izuku looks at him sideways. He probably stinks like jealousy and fear and possession. He fidgets. Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’d ever hurt you.
Katsuki sits up. Izuku reaches out to card a finger through his hair. His eyes lock onto the mark on his wrist, already blooming with a bruise. Ouch. You fucking animal.
“It isn’t what you think it is. We’ve talked about this, Kacchan.” He scowls.
“Promise?”
Izuku smiles.
“I’ll send you lots of pictures.”
That’s… not what I asked. Don’t run away from me.
His guts twist.
As soon as Izuku walks out the door, he’s on his phone.
Me : I need you to do something fucking crazy.
Red : Count me in, bro
He bangs his head against the wall. Tries to rattle his thoughts back in order.
Me : Make sure he gets home safe.
Red : That is fucking crazy bro.
He types. Deletes. Wants to say yes, ok, you’re right but it doesn’t come out. He can’t press send. Because right now, it feels entirely reasonable for him to ask this.
Red : Air your room out while I’m gone
He slams open the window and hears Eijiro laugh distantly down the hall.