Chapter Text
The next day, he wakes up and realizes.
He’s in rut.
His skin is burning hot, his scent thicker and darker than ever before, heavy, choking firesmoke. His cock is rock hard, leaking against his stomach, and the urge to knot sits foremost in his mind. The haze from the night before has solidified into a single purpose: find his omega and take him, make him his.
He hadn't realized he was so close to his rut; perhaps that’s why it was so easy to lose it, before. But somehow, somehow more importantly than all of that, is a fact he registers almost at the exact same time as all this:
Izuku’s not here.
Pain spikes in his chest, sudden and piercing, and he sits bolt upright with a whine. His vision focuses as he stares wildly about the room, searching for his omega. No he was just here, he wouldn’t leave him…not yet, surely, not yet…
Midoriya walks into the room holding a plate and a glass, and Shouto feels so relieved he could collapse with it. He whines again, loud and desperate. Why did you leave?
Midoriya looks startled, stilling in his approach, but then hastens forward again when he sees the look of anguish that must cross Shouto’s face. He sets the plate and glass down on the bedside table and gives a little laugh, looking at Shouto with what seems to be surprised affection.
“Wow, you really missed me, huh?”
Relief tempers Shouto's distress at that laugh, so clearly affectionate and unafraid. He doesn't answer the question; the answer should be obvious. Also he gets distracted; as his distress subsides, he suddenly and abruptly notices that Izuku is wearing nothing but one of Shouto's sweaters — the large white one that he'd worn before, when his own clothes had needed cleaning. The one he'd had fantasies about. The one he'd wanted to fuck Izuku in.
Shouto lunges forward and drags him onto the bed.
“WHOA, whoa whoa whoa— ”
He’s rolled Izuku underneath him before the omega can do much more than squawk, is getting between his legs and shoving his face into his neck before Izuku can even try to recover.
He breathes deep…and groans as Izuku’s scent fills his senses like a drug, throwing his world off-kilter.
“Mmm…love you in this shirt.”
“O-oh?” Izuku gives a slightly flustered laugh. “I…actually had thought that might be the case. Also, it’s very comfy.” A slight pause. “And…smells like you.”
Embarrassment colours that last confession, Izuku mumbling it like he almost hopes Shouto won’t hear — but he absolutely does. A loud purr rumbles from his chest.
“You like that?”
“Well,” Izuku says, still sounding a little embarrassed, “you…you have a very nice scent, you know. At least, I think so. So yeah, it’s…nice.”
Shouto hums and gets busy dipping his hands under the voluminous sweater and slowly pulling it up, baring Izuku’s body. Pulling back to look, he finds the omega isn’t wearing anything under it.
He grins with sharp teeth, another pleased rumble escaping his throat, and moves to get the sweater off all the way.
Izuku’s hands fly to his and stop him.
Grin fading, Shouto looks up, confused and slightly irritated. Izuku's face is flushed pink; he can also smell the beginnings of arousal, so he’s not sure why Izuku’s stopping him. A large chunk of him wants to keep going anyway, the urge to breed the little omega in his bed almost overwhelming.
“Okay, wait, wait— Shouto, just— just hang on a moment— ”
Shouto frowns and lets out a low whine again, frustrated.
“No. Omega…” he spreads his hands across Izuku’s torso and feels the boy shiver. “Omega, let me…”
“I will,” Izuku reassures, a little breathless. He seems to be trying to ignore Shouto’s touch, and not doing well. “I will, but you need to eat first, Shouto.”
Shouto frowns deeper— and leans back in to shove his nose into the soft underside of Izuku’s jaw once more, groaning as the omega’s scent fills his senses. Izuku makes a startled sound — and then a louder one when Shouto moves one hand from his torso to his cock.
“Shouto!”
“Want you, omega,” Shouto purrs— and feels a swell of proud satisfaction as arousal grows stronger in Izuku’s scent.
He nips at Izuku’s soft skin and grins when he hears him yelp again. Moves his fist slowly on Izuku’s cock.
“Omega…I’ll make you feel good…”
“Oh gods,” Izuku says weakly, sounding very distracted. “Okay, okay, right, okay. But…but you have to eat first, Shouto. I went all the way to the meathouse to get you food.”
Shouto freezes.
A trickle of cold reality slices through the heat dominating his brain like a knife.
He lifts his head.
“You…what?”
Izuku looks up at him.
“I went to the meathouse. There wasn’t anything in here, and I know your body does better with meat. So I went and got some of the cuts you already have stored in the icebox.”
Shouto swallows. His eyes search Izuku’s face as his hand slips off him. The thought of Izuku in that place…seeing the hooks in the ceiling, the stacks of meat in the iceboxes…he might still have the remnants of his last skinned kill on a workbench, he can’t remember if he cleaned it up. They’re just animals, of course, but for a prey shifter like Izuku…and with the way some get treated…
He didn’t want him to see that.
“I said you shouldn’t go there.”
Izuku’s expression gentles.
“I know. But I could tell you were entering rut when I woke up, and I’ve read alphas have just as much trouble taking care of themselves in rut as omegas do in heat.”
His eyes dip a moment; Shouto startles like a shocked horse when a hand touches his side gently. Izuku looks back up.
“You took care of me when I first came here. Please…let me return the favour.”
Shouto stares.
With some mental effort, he forces himself up, away, onto his knees, and looks over at the plate Izuku placed on the bedside table. On it sits a hefty chunk of raw meat, blood oozing from underneath it to coat white ceramic with a shallow lake of red.
He looks back at Izuku.
Izuku looks away. Gives a small shrug.
“It’s…not so bad. I know you just hunt animals. When I first came here it was a bit…but only because I hadn’t seen it before, and…and I didn’t know you, you know? I didn’t know if you were the type to…you know.”
He looks back to Shouto.
“But I do know you now — or at least, I know you’re not that type. And I’ve always been…curious, honestly.” He squirms a little under Shouto. “And being outside with you yesterday…the chase, and…and then later, when…when you, um, when you bit…and there was…uh, on your, uh, your mouth a-and chin…”
He turns red, and suddenly can’t meet Shouto’s gaze.
“I-I mean, point is, I…um, I, I mean you know I’ve always looked forward to meeting new people and…” he gives a little chuckle. “I guess I, ha, uh…like carnivores more than I thought I would.”
Shouto stares.
Slowly, he lowers himself back down, down until he’s a whisper away from Izuku’s face.
“You liked it when I chased you?” he murmurs, which out of everything Izuku just said is probably not the most important, but is still what his rut-addled brain grabs onto anyway.
Izuku turns an even deeper red. His eyes dart away, then back, surprised and embarrassed.
“I— yes? It…I mean, it, it felt…”
Shouto leans in closer, feeling that hunger from last night start to gnaw at his belly. His cock is still hard. He brushes his lips over Izuku’s, feels a shaky breath wash over his skin.
“Liked it when I bled?” he murmurs next, and hears Izuku suck in a guilty, even shakier breath.
He kisses him before he can say anything.
“Can mark you too,” he breathes, breaking away. He presses his hips down, rolls them against Izuku’s. Hears the omega make a small, high-pitched noise, smells his scent spike. Mine. Mine, mine, he likes it, mine. “Make you pretty, pretty and red.”
A whisper of fear sneaks into Izuku’s scent, intertwined so close with the arousal that it only gives that dark gold a sharp edge, caramelizing sugar that mingles with Shouto’s smoke deliciously. He sees that slender throat bob with a swallow.
He bends down to slide the tip of his nose along it, breathing deep; gently grazes the tips of his fangs across delicate skin.
He hears Izuku’s breath hitch; ears perked and senses sharp, can hear too the hummingbird pace of his pulse quicken.
“Won’t hurt,” he breathes, because he won’t, he wouldn’t. He just wants to mark, a little, just a little, shallow and red, wants Izuku to remember him, wants others to see. Wants to ease the ache in his teeth.
He rolls his hips against Izuku’s again, and the omega’s knees come up to squeeze around his hips as Izuku gives a muffled moan.
“Won’t hurt. Just a little.” He presses a kiss to that vulnerable throat. “Just a little.”
Izuku lets out a long, shuddering breath. His hands come up to wrap around Shouto’s sides.
“I trust you.”
Shouto freezes.
For a moment, it feels like even the heat in his belly, the fog in his brain, stills. A moment of shocked, crystalline, disbelieving clarity, Izuku’s words ringing in his head. He'd said so last night too but…it'd been hard to believe then, and that he'd say so again, now, after what he's seen?
His heart squeezes, hopeful, astonished. The rest of him yearns to touch even more.
The omega presses a gentle kiss to his head.
“But you still gotta eat first.”
-
The only reason he finishes the meal Izuku so kindly brought him — and the cup of water with it — is because Izuku is surprisingly firm about it, even when Shouto has eaten most of it and it’s fine, really, he’s fine, he’d much rather—
The bunny gently kicks him away with those strong, muscled legs of his every time he tries to abandon his food and grab the omega instead, which just makes Shouto want to grab him more, spread those legs, pin him down. But also, the fact that someone actually cares enough to make sure he eats is…new, new enough to make him obey even as everything in him screams to breed, to knot.
His scent has filled the room at this point, grown strong in his sleep and stronger now with Izuku beside him, still irritatingly clothed but smelling very good despite it. He can’t help but slide glances over, at that body hidden beneath his sweater — still a pleasing sight, but less pleasing now that he has to wait to take it off. He wants to see Izuku again, all of him, feel him and fuck him and gods, he wants it, he wants it right now so fucking much.
By the time he’s finished his meal he’s blatantly staring, scent dark, cock hard, blood dripping messily down his chin and smeared across his lips because fine motor skills are hard to maintain when he’s barely able to hold himself back from throwing the food away and pouncing on the real meal. Izuku’s staring back at him, sitting on the bed more than an arm’s length away, and Shouto can feel his gaze on his mouth as he eats, long having abandoned cutlery in favour of speed and now just holding the slab of meat in his hands and tearing at it with sharpened teeth. He can see the bunny swallow as he rips and yanks at a stubborn piece of muscle; smells him get wet.
He eats his last few bites so fast he almost chokes.
“Done,” he snarls, carelessly dropping the plate to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. He barely hears it; he’s already leapt forward and bodily pinned Izuku to the mattress. The rabbit is staring up at him, eyes wide, breath starting to come fast…and smelling very, very aroused.
Shouto looks down at his sweater — such a pretty cream on Izuku's skin — and licks his lips. Slides his hands under it once more, up and up until it's crumpled beneath Izuku's armpits and his body is bared, beautiful and slender. Had he patience right now he would kiss his way down it, lavish attention on Izuku until the omega begged for more.
But patience is very much not something he has right now.
He moves his hands between Izuku's thighs, parts them, and lowers himself to eat what he’d really been wanting the whole time.
Izuku yelps as Shouto licks a line up his cunt.
“H-holy— Shouto— ”
Whatever he says next, Shouto doesn’t hear. He doesn’t hear because there’s an explosion happening behind his eyes; a single lick of his omega, and he already craves the taste more than his actual food. Fuck, Izuku tastes good.
He lowers himself to the bed, grabs Izuku’s thighs to keep him from moving, and sets about his second meal.
The sound Midoriya makes, the way his thighs suddenly tighten around Shouto's head; it's all lost beneath the burst of his slick on Shouto's tongue. His eyes roll back in his head, and suddenly his mouth is watering so bad he can't swallow it back anymore. A rough, hoarse sound escapes him as his fangs abruptly sharpen to full length, drool dripping from his tongue. His hands clench around Midoriya's thighs so hard he hears a faint whimper past the rushing in his ears.
He pulls Midorya’s legs apart so he can have more.
It is, by far, the most careless he's ever been in bed. There’s no finesse; just raw desire, and impatience. He licks sloppily into Midoriya's folds, presses his whole face against his omega so he can lick in, deeply as possible.
There's a sharp cry; he feels Midoriya clench, walls twitching as he slides his tongue in.
His scent surrounds him, slithers down his throat, fills his lungs…and gods he never wants to breathe anything else ever again. The desire has turned chimerical, the animal and human in him both hungry. Hungry for something warm, wet, gasping, yielding; soft and vulnerable. Mine. His prey, his omega; it bleeds together in his rut-fogged mind, until what matters most is that he has him pinned. Not leaving. Never leaving. Mine. Mine!
"Shouto…S-Shouto, oh gods!"
Shouto finds himself licking, sucking, curling his tongue, doing whatever simply to get more of that taste, that sound, that smell. He frees a hand from Midoriya's thigh to press against his partner's cock, and the omega cries out and tries to buck his hips, helpless. Shouto keeps him pinned. And when he moves that hand down to slip two fingers into Midoriya instead — and oh, the sound he makes at that, the way he looks when Shouto lifts a little to see him throwing his head back, covering his face with an arm — he moves the other to replace it, spreading firm across Midoriya's hip, big enough to cover a fair chunk of his abdomen. So small.
Shouto begins to move his fingers, probably not as gently as he should, but fuck it. Midoriya is so wet — he wants it, wants me — and he wants more, so much more.
Midoriya lets out a cry, and Shouto licks his lips. The taste of Midoriya’s slick blooms over his tongue.
"Wait— w-wait, Shouto— "
Shouto bares his teeth, snarls — no, won’t wait . Midoriya shudders.
"I…it's just a bit…the sweater, and my tail…um, l-let me…"
Mention of that cute tail diverts Shouto's attention enough that he actually complies when Midoriya twists, and shifts, and then is turning over. Shouto reluctantly pulls his hands away, and mourns a little as the bunny pulls his sweater off, dropping it off the bed.
And then he immediately forgets it entirely as Izuku moves to his knees, dips his head to rest on his forearms, and splays his legs.
Lust screams up Shouto's spine.
Izuku's cottontail is cute and perky above an ass just as perfect as Shouto’s imagined, but even more than that…this is a mating position. He's presenting…presenting for Shouto, properly presenting, asking to be bred. He wants— he wants me wants it omega wants to be bred wants his alpha mine mine mine—
A low, guttural sound escapes his open mouth as Shouto gapes, wide-eyed. His blood leaps…and then he’s moving.
He grabs Izuku’s hips harshly, and Izuku yelps as he tugs him back at the same time as he moves forward, and presses himself flush to Izuku’s ass, rubbing his hard, aching cock against him for even an inch of relief. He groans at the feeling as he slips between Izuku’s folds and he slides against wet, wet slick— Izuku gasps, shivers, moans. Shouto feels him get wetter against his cock.
He moves a hand from Izuku’s hip to the bed in order to drop down heavily above him, leaning on his forearm so he can bend low over his sweet little bunny and whisper into his ear.
“You want this? Want my knot?’
Izuku whines, hiding his face; Shouto catches a glimpse of red cheeks just before he does. He also feels another burst of slick against his dick.
His fangs ache, a fire in his belly leaps; slowly, he grins. He leans in closer; nudges a nose into Izuku’s hair.
“Say it. Say you want your alpha’s knot.”
Izuku whines again, louder.
“Shouto…no…”
“Say it,” Shouto repeats, and he’s not sure where this is coming from he’s really not — except he does get wilder during his ruts, and something about Izuku in this position, so obviously wanting him, makes him want to hear the omega admit it. Hear him beg for it. Wants me wants me, he wants me.
He runs the tip of his nose along the delicate, currently very red edge of Izuku’s ear; then, with a brief stab of reluctance, moves back a bit so he can reach his neck. Izuku shivers as he breathes hotly over his gland.
“Say it.”
He sucks hard on that tender spot, and Izuku shudders, gasps, moans.
And then Shouto bites.
Izuku screams.
“Alpha— !”
He’d managed, somehow, to get the wherewithal to dull his fangs a bit; but they’re still quite sharp. Doesn’t matter. Omega's made for this. It’s true, in a way; omegas heal fast, and he’s heard they enjoy being marked. Admittedly it had always been alphas saying that, so he’d never quite believed it— but with the way Izuku’s now squalling and writhing as he holds him firm under his teeth, he thinks he’s found his proof.
“Alpha alpha alpha— oh fuck, oh fuck— ”
He lets go, only to immediately dip back in and lick up the small, welling beads of blood he’s left behind. The taste of copper fills his mouth, mixing with the echos of Izuku’s slick.
He groans, deep. It’s heaven; it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
“Mine,” he rumbles, and licks harder at his fresh, raw bite. Izuku cries out, part pain, part ecstasy. “Mine, mine, gonna mark you, gonna breed you. Say you want it, omega.”
“Oh gods,” Izuku sobs, voice sounding choked, wet, as if he can barely get his breath. “Shouto…alpha…I want it, I want it, please please give me your knot…”
Shouto licks a line up the back of his neck, this time — then fits his mouth to that pretty nape. His jaw opens wide as he angles his head and fits his fangs over that slender, tempting neck, strings of salvia dripping onto Izuku and make him flinch — and then bites down again.
Izuku cries out; this time Shouto has to hold him down with both hands as he jerks, teeth piercing the soft skin on either side of his throat. A low, continuous growl starts to snake from his throat, like when he's pinned something on a hunt and it's putting up a fight.
“Alpha,” Izuku cries, tears in his voice but scent still so, so dark and aroused. "Oh— alpha, alpha please— ”
Shouto lets go; again, immediately licks at the welling blood, and admires the red marks he’s left again. This time he notices he’s left his own smears of blood, the messy leftovers from his meal now staining Izuku’s skin. He glances at the hand that had gone to pin Izuku's shoulder down as he struggled; it too has smeared blood over those cute freckles. His bedsheets where he was touching too…his careless meal had left his hands painted crimson.
Well. Bedsheets can be washed. And Izuku…
He bends back down to clean him up too.
“Good boy,” he murmurs between licks, head growing dizzy with the taste. “You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you, Izuku?”
Izuku nods his head, shaking with deep, hoarse, uneven breaths.
“Yes…yes…I’ll be good, alpha, please…”
"You'll be my good omega?"
Izuku shudders and gives a thin, broken whine.
"Gods…y-yes…"
“You like this,” Shouto purrs, somehow unable to let that go. Maybe because a part of him still finds it unbelievable.
Izuku moans, this time with embarrassment, and hides his face in the mattress again where he’d started to peek out.
“Yes,” he says, voice muffled. “Yes, I do, I don’t know why, please just— ”
Shouto licks firmly up the bite over Izuku’s gland again, and the man cuts off with a long moan.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against his sweet omega’s ear, finally taking pity. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you want.”
He shifts back up; rolls his hips against Izuku’s ass. The bunny turns his face from where he’d buried it in the mattress to make a low noise of pleasure and bites his lip, eyes squeezing shut.
Shouto starts to press kisses to his now-reachable cheek, ignoring Izuku’s squeak. He leaves more crimson where he touches, but somehow, now, he doesn’t think Izuku will mind. The bunny’s eyes are hazy and dark. As Shouto rolls his hips against him again, slower, deliberate, they flutter shut on a quiet, hitched breath. He feels the bunny press back against him, dipping his spine, sliding his legs farther apart. He’s so wet.
He grips Izuku’s hip firmly with the hand not braced on the mattress, lines himself up, and starts pressing in.
Izuku gives a full-body moan when he seats himself all the way. Shouto purrs his approval.
“Good boy.”
He starts to move.
He starts with slow, deliberate thrusts; slow pulling out, that is, but snapping back in. He likes the way that makes Izuku start, eyes flying open with a gasp, likes the way it makes the bunny grip hard at the sheets. That pace doesn’t last long though; he hasn’t the patience for it. Especially when staring down at those beautiful marks he’s left on Izuku’s neck. No, he’s selfish right now. Knot, breed.
He lifts himself back up so he can grip Izuku’s hips with both hands, and fuck him properly.
Izuku loses it.
He wasn’t this loud last night; perhaps Shouto’s strengthened pheromones are setting him off too. Or maybe it’s because as he loses himself in the simple, primal action of fucking his mate into the mattress, his claws start to come out, and pierce into Izuku’s hips where he holds him firm. Izuku had made such a noise when that happened that Shouto had immediately retracted them, reflexive, but then Izuku had cried even louder.
“No, no alpha please, I want it, I want it please mark me up— ”
Shouto swears his vision goes black for a moment then, arousal spiking so strong it shuts off his damn brain.
He doesn’t hold back after that— not that he really was to start with. Izuku’s legs slowly slide open wider and wider as the bunny writhes in Shouto’s hands, at times trying to press back against him but increasingly seeming to go boneless, hands slipping on the sheets, back a perfect downward slope as he pants and lets himself be used with hard, violent movements. He shudders whenever Shouto’s hands slip and he leaves shallow, pretty red cuts on his omega’s hips; and Shouto smells his scent grow almost proud, possessive.
The knowledge that Izuku might be proud of the marks he leaves is almost enough to do him in; he moans roughly, tension pulling tight below his stomach. His knot is swelling, and he can see it when Izuku notices; his eyes snap open, and suddenly his previously lax body is moving back against Shouto’s thrusts as much as it can.
“Want it?” Shouto pants, and Izuku nods desperately, clenching at the bedsheets, trying his hardest to move back onto Shouto’s knot. He whines, high and loud.
“Want it, want it, alpha please gimme— ”
Shouto wants to bend down and lick his bites so bad, but he also doesn’t want to move.
He compromises by snapping an arm out, grabbing Izuku by the hair, and yanking him up.
The bunny cries out, scrabbling to get his arms under him; Shouto keeps on fucking him, his knot starting to slip in. His mouth waters, pleasure tightening like a coil about to snap. He pants, licks more blood off his lips.
“Gonna fill you up,” he tells his sweet, sweet mate, held tight by the grip at hair and hip. He snaps his hips harder; Izuku cries out again. “Pretty boy, gonna— ”
His knot slips in all the way— and he drops Izuku with a gasping snarl as he, too, collapses down. Unlike last night though, this time he manages to catch himself on a forearm…and he shudders above Izuku as the tension breaks, coil unravelling like a whip as he cums, and cums, and cums, filling his omega just like he promised.
He’s not sure how long it lasts. It's a fiery haze of pleasure, a release his whole body loses itself to. He feels the muscles in his stomach tensing and trembling as he spills, hears his moans and ragged breaths, almost as if an outsider to his body with no control. His forearms are planted on the bed as he manages to hold himself up this time, not crush his partner. He can't even move after, echos of it shivering through muscle and nerve and making him groan.
When it finally feels like thoughts start to crawl back into his head, when it finally feels like he's regaining some control over his own muscles…
The first thing he does is start to groom his omega.
The urge is so strong, so immediate — this sudden desire to take care of his mate — that he doesn't even hesitate. He feels exhausted, drained, the fire of rut temporarily doused and leaving him slowed in its wake, but he does manage to lower himself, carefully. Izuku smells of blood and slick and happy pheremones, and…damn, he feels so proud of his little mate. He took Shouto so well.
Not my mate, a small voice whispers in the back of his head, but he ignores it, for now.
Izuku twitches with a small, startled sound when he starts licking through his hair with his rough cats-tongue, then up one of his ears…but the surprise doesn’t last long. Instead he feels Izuku relax again only a second later, a quiet, low, happy trill vibrating from deep in his chest.
He shifts to fold his arms under his head, head turned to the side, and a content smile slips onto his lips as he lets Shouto continue satisfying his instincts. Shouto cums again as he shifts; they both moan.
Shouto lowers himself a little more, moves his hips against Izuku in shallow, rolling motions, coaxing out another small orgasm. He gives a low groan of satisfaction as he feels himself spill, knot aching faintly, Izuku tightening briefly about him.
“You like that?” he murmurs into Izuku’s curls. “Like being filled up by alpha?”
Izuku gives a slightly embarrassed but mostly satisfied hum…and rolls his hips back against him.
Shouto lets out a gutteral noise and cums again.
Izuku purrs and makes a satisfied sound, face flushed, eyes hazy.
“Yeah,” he says, sounding almost a little drunk — which, now that Shouto has a somewhat clearer head, maybe he is. Shouto’s scent is so thick right now, he could be scent-drunk. “Mmm…yeah. Love alpha’s knot.”
Shouto feels his heart catch and his arousal spike back up at the same time.
He nuzzles against Izuku.
“Such a good omega.”
Izuku smiles happily, eyes drifting shut, a quiet, happy trill sounding again. Shouto pulls back a little as Izuku relaxes, enough to look again at his marks.
They're still red and pretty: just like he left them. A little messier, actually, now, fresh blood having welled up and spilled over a bit. But he still feels a possessive satisfaction at the sight…and slight wonder, that Izuku would allow this, allow him. No, not even allow — enjoy.
He’s enough clarity now, before his rut builds back up again, to recognize the danger of this, this feeling. Izuku’s leaving, he’s still leaving after all this. He shouldn’t be getting attached…any more than he is already, anyway, both emotionally and physically at the moment.
Izuku makes a quiet, satisfied little coo under him, and his attention snaps back.
His worries immediately slide away in favour of focusing on the omega on his knot, and a thought occurs to him, suddenly and belatedly. With a slight stab of guilt he carefully moves a hand to reach under Izuku’s belly, down between his legs. Izuku twitches, eyes sliding open to look at Shouto curiously; then twitches again when Shouto finds his cock.
Ah — good.
He breathes a quiet, internal sigh of relief — Izuku is flaccid, spent. In his rut he has next to no mind for anyone but himself, so…
Izuku must see some of that relief in his face, for he blushes a little but smiles.
“I think I actually came twice.”
Shouto’s brows raise; Izuku turns a bit more pink, but this time doesn’t hide his face. Instead, he shrugs — and Shouto’s eyes widen as he feels the omega tighten, deliberately, around his knot.
Izuku looks away for a moment, his usual shyness peeping through this unusual show of forwardness; but then looks back with an almost coy smile, biting his lip.
Shouto blinks.
He moves the hand between Izuku's legs and finds a slight swell in Izuku's abdomen; presses down.
The omega jerks, startled, then shuts his eyes on a quiet moan. Shouto starts to gently caress that spot, wonders at how small Izuku is that he can fill him this much. Maybe he could feel his own cock if he pressed hard enough. But…that might hurt Izuku, and he's happy simply caressing his little mate, soothing him, showing how proud he is of how much he took.
He leans down to kiss him.
Izuku makes a little noise…then kisses back, languid, scent content. And Shouto, bent over his omega to touch him tenderly decides not to think on the future, right now. Same way he usually doesn’t think about the past. Right now, what matters is the omega in his bed; and Shouto, who has not felt the comfort of another body in quite some time, is not going to distract himself from it.
He kisses Izuku deeper, and feels heat already start to flicker back to life in his belly.
It’s going to be a long week.
-
His rut lasts five days.
It’s the usual length — though, Shouto feels, not the usual intensity. No; it’s much stronger. He’s insatiable, voracious, hungry for Izuku beyond compare. Can’t stop touching him, even after he’s cum. He constantly wants to feel his omega — and he can’t stop calling him that, for some reason — wants to be grooming him, nuzzling him, wrapping himself around him in the nest Izuku eventually makes out of the bed.
He has had similar ruts before, back when he had a partner, when both of them were in rut at the same time. The constant touching part not so much, but the ferocity of his desire, the intense urge to mark…that’s familiar. So, it’s not unheard of.
But Izuku’s not in heat…so that doesn't quite line up.
Perhaps it’s because he’s an omega. Though, for some reason, Shouto doesn’t think it’s that either.
Honestly, he likes to think it’s just because it’s Izuku.
The bunny takes care of him, the whole week. Which is…astonishing. He can’t remember the last time someone took care of him. Certainly not since he was very, very small. His heart always gives a funny twist when Izuku leaves to bring him food, aches when he insists he finishes it, cajoles Shouto when necessary.
He becomes very good at doing that; convincing a rut-struck Shouto to listen to him. Sometimes he just has to bend his neck and bat his eyes and say please, which Shouto finds he's very weak to; other times he promises Shouto things in exchange. One time he'd sucked his dick while Shouto ate, which had been an interesting exercise in simultaneous indulgence and restraint. And whenever he convinces him to bathe it's usually only by agreeing to bathe with him, which always ends with him fucking Izuku in the tub.
Still, at least it does happen. If it were up to Shouto, he would stay in bed the entire week and keep Izuku there with him, under him, over him, bent under his hands, locked on his knot, writhing and crying for more.
He nearly gets him there too; he’s surprised he doesn’t send Izuku into heat, especially with how close he seems at times, wailing beneath Shouto as he tightens around his knot and milks him dry. He’s such a good boy for his alpha. Shouto praises him at every turn, pants into his ear that wouldn’t he like it, like alpha knocking him up, giving him a litter of their own. It always makes Izuku try to hide a scarlet face in embarrassment, but Shouto knows he’s only embarrassed because of how much he likes it; he can tell because of how he tightens around him every time, clings to him even tighter. Because of the way Shouto manages to make him beg for it.
And he marks him.
Izuku likes it, is the thing, encourages it. Likes it when Shouto bites him all over and sucks bruises onto his skin. He knows they won’t last too long with the way omegas heal, but that just makes him leave more. He abandons caution and grips him hard, forces him where he wants him, snarls and claws at the bedsheets, making a mess.
Izuku ends up leaving some marks of his own as the week progresses and he too gets wilder; lovely, long pink scratches down Shouto’s back. He knows he doesn’t really mean my alpha when he gasps it, when he moans it, but it makes him hard all the same, makes him bite and scent, cumming on Izuku the rare few times he doesn’t knot him so he can spread his spend over his skin and drench the omega in it.
And Izuku gets so wet, so sopping wet when he does, like he likes Shouto claiming him, likes Shouto twisting his fingers inside his hot, tight cunt while his cum slides down his spine, groaning filth into his ear like you like that huh, you like alpha’s fingers inside you, sweet little omega. Gonna breed you, breed you good, knot you and stuff you full—
Izuku usually cums then, tensing and trembling and moaning and Shouto, at that point, is ready for another round and eager to follow up on his promises.
It all passes in a haze, a wonderful, passionate, burning haze that leaves him drained but satisfied, purring with happiness…
And then, at the end, remembering it’s been a week, another week.
Which means Izuku is going to leave.
-
The day he wakes and finds his head clear and his rut broken, it takes a while before he remembers this.
It hits like getting dropped into cold water after a week spent in the summer sun.
He’s leaving.
It’s been two weeks; the time he recommended Izuku stay. He could say he should stay longer, he supposes; storm season is dying down now, but not technically over. He could. He wants to.
But how would Izuku take that? The predator alpha who’d just spent a week snarling into his ear that he’s going to breed him and make him his. It was dirty talk in the moment, rut talk, and he’s sure Izuku took it as such. But…if he asks him to stay, now? With that so fresh behind them?
Is it worth potentially losing his trust, to try and see if he might stay?
He remembers how Izuku had looked, when saying that, looking up at him, arms reaching up to hold Shouto in a gentle embrace. As if he’d known how much Shouto needed to hear this.
I trust you.
He had looked sure.
It had been a good rut. Shouto doesn’t want to make him question his choice, now.
He wonders if he even made it into the journals.
Maybe? Maybe now…
No. No, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to be remembered, not really. This was enough; this was more than enough.
-
It’s midday when he'd first woke, he'd found, looking out the window blearily as he'd opened his eyes. This always happens after ruts; his sleep schedule thoroughly fucked by a week of waking whenever he's horny enough. Which was often.
Then reality had hit, and he stopped trying to come to.
He ends up just lying in bed a good hour or so before actually getting up, consumed by his thoughts. Izuku must think him still asleep, for he doesn’t enter the room, not once.
When Shouto steps out into the common area he sees first, Izuku sitting on the couch, reading a Toshinori book, with some of his journals spread on the low table in front of him. He looks cozy, comfortable. Happy. Right. Like he belongs.
And second, and he only spots this so fast because he’d been looking for it…
He sees Izuku’s things, packed and ready by the door.
A cold, empty feeling starts to hollow out a space in his chest.
“Shouto! You’re up!”
He looks back to Izuku to see the bunny looking up with bright eyes and a wide grin, closing the book on his lap and putting it aside to stand and rush towards Shouto. Despite the empty feeling starting to curl through his chest like a slow, slithering worm— he can’t help it. He smiles.
Izuku leaps the last few paces and wraps him up in a hug.
Shouto bends forward a little and just…soaks it in.
When Izuku lets go, he beams up at him with a joy so bright, it’s hard not to feel. Like the sun, warming his face.
“How are you feeling? Okay?”
Shouto nods.
“Your rut is broken?”
Another nod.
“You hungry?”
He shakes his head.
“Okay. Um, you wanna sit?”
He looks to the couch, the journals, the book. Where Izuku had looked so at home.
Nods.
Izuku actually grabs his hand and leads him to the couch, which he hadn’t expected but he’s certainly not going to stop. Izuku’s hand wraps around his larger one as much as it can, and he’s almost gathered the wherewithal to hold his hand back, properly— but then they’re at the couch, and Izuku’s pulling him down to sit and letting go. Too late.
“I was just reading one of my favourites. It’s one of yours too, right?”
He looks to the side, to the book Izuku had abandoned.
“Ah. Yes.”
He looks back to see an odd expression flicker over Izuku’s face, he thinks, for a moment — but it’s so fast, he’s not sure.
“Right. Great!”
A silence falls.
Shouto looks to the table in front of them, at the journals strewn across it. For a man with such organized notes, Izuku often seems to make a mess.
“You were journaling?”
Izuku smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear.
“Yeah. Just getting as much as I can before I have to head out. It’s a pity you couldn’t show me more of the outdoors but…well, maybe later, right?”
Shouto blinks at him, confused. In the growing numbness in his lungs, that gnawing chill pauses.
“I mean, I’ll be back here eventually! I plan to re-visit all the places I’ve been, one day, when I can.”
The chill resumes.
Another silence falls.
Izuku shifts in place on the couch.
“I, uh, I wanted to give you something, actually.”
Shouto feels his brows raise, a smidge; despite the tired cold settling into his insides, curiosity sparks.
Izuku notices and gives a little smile.
“Okay, one moment…let me just grab it…”
He leans forward, and…shuffles through the journals in front of them, picking a few up, then flicking through the pages as if looking for something. Shouto’s curiosity grows.
“Ah-ha!”
A loose sheet of paper is plucked from one black-bound journal, and presented to him with a slightly nervous smile. Shouto takes it, careful, and looks down.
His own face looks back up.
It’s…it’s him.
Like Izuku’s other portraits, it’s not a perfect replica. Shouto is sure his eyes are not that warm, his smile not that soft. Somehow, he looks…happy. At peace. His eyes, lovingly rendered in graphite strokes, stare out at the viewer as if he’s pleased to see them. As if welcoming a friend.
Unexpectedly, Shouto feels his own eyes start to water. His vision blurs.
He quickly looks away, hiding his face.
“Oh— oh, I, I’m sorry, I…I know I’m not…an artist. It’s not…the greatest, but, I thought…I mean, out of all of them I thought it was the best…”
His head whips back.
“All of them?”
Izuku jumps, taken off guard by Shouto’s suddenly intense, and likely still damp, stare.
“Oh, um…I mean, I did a few sketches first of course…um, warmups, sorta thing…”
“Can I see?” Shouto says, immediately, because if there are others…if Izuku’s giving this to him, he won’t have it, won’t have anything of Shouto. But if he has even…even a loose sketch, to carry with him, so he won’t…won’t forget…
For some reason, Izuku colours at his request.
“Uh— I mean they’re not, they’re not very good, I don’t think you really— ”
“I want to see them,” Shouto cuts him off, insistent. Izuku turns a deeper pink, and starts to avoid his gaze.
“I, um, really I don’t think…it’s a bit embarrassing, is all, I mean, I’m really not an artist…”
Shouto leans forward— though only a little, mindful of the paper he holds carefully in his lap.
“Please.”
There’s a long moment where Izuku continues to try to avoid his gaze, but Shouto is patient — certainly more patient than Izuku, he’s learned. Eventually the man caves.
“I…”
He sighs.
“Okay.”
He picks up the journal he plucked the page Shouto now holds from, opens it to what seems like the same section, and passes it over.
Shouto makes to take it — then has a thought, and carefully places the portrait of himself to the side, onto the table, out of any possible harm’s way. Then accepts the journal.
He spreads it open to see…
A sketch. As he thought, and as Izuku had said; only a loose sketch, not as fine as the portrait he’d been given.
Only there’s more than one.
And they’re not all of Shouto smiling.
His eyes widen as he stares.
There’s several of him smiling, true; some looking a bit stiff, some scribbled over, clearly practices that went wrong. Then there’s some where he’s not smiling at all, but rather, looking pensive, off to the side, in thought. Some seem peaceful; some contemplative. One of these has him resting his chin on a disembodied hand, and he recognizes it as when he looks out the window at times, simply taking in the view. Izuku’s captured the calm that comes over him at those times surprisingly well. There’s one under it that’s a full torso; his face is hidden, turned down to an open book in his hands. Relaxed and reading.
That slithering cold snaking through the ventricles of his heart shivers...and turns a little warmer.
So he hadn't been the only one looking. And not just out of fear or caution, it would seem.
Fascinated, he turns the page.
Beside him, Izuku makes a choked sound.
“Wait— ”
Shouto looks at the next two pages, and his brows shoot up.
Here, there are considerably fewer busts, or at least less focus on his…face. Pencil tries to capture the curve of his spine that leads into his tail. Beside it, there's a sketch of his bare torso — though sketch is perhaps the wrong word given how carefully it's rendered, possibly the most out of the entire lot. The stretch of a raised arm pulling muscle tight over ribs and stomach is carved from dark greys and white, like the moonlit night when he'd first taken Izuku. A trickle of black blood drips from an unfinished jaw.
He wonders, now, if Izuku remembers that night, their first, with just as much detail as he does. This would certainly suggest…
There’s a few sketches of his face scattered about, but they’re bare bones, loose lines that only come into focus on certain elements: a snarling mouth with sharp teeth, dark eyes with slitted pupils. And, he sees, there are a few attempts at full body…nudes…
Izuku snatches the journal back, and Shouto slowly looks up to see him burning red right up to his ears. He stares down at the couch, unable meet Shouto’s gaze, and his voice comes high-pitched and mortified when he speaks.
“That’s— ! You, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
Shouto…stares a moment longer, words failing, distracted by a sudden heat in his belly. His rut just ended, but for a second, he feels like he could very much go again.
Izuku closes the journal and holds it to his chest with both hands, head ducked and hiding his face, ears still bright crimson.
“I’m sorry, I— I should’ve asked, or…or something, I just…I know we’re, it’s, we’re just friends, I didn't mean to…to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
Shouto…hastily gets his dick in check and his thoughts in order.
“I’m not…uncomfortable,” he says first, gently. “I’m just…surprised.”
There’s a beat.
Izuku looks hesitantly up at him from under his lashes.
“Surprised?”
Shouto looks at the portrait on the table a moment, the one that had started this. Looks at that smiling portrait of a face that he honestly almost doesn’t recognize in its happiness.
Is that really how he looks around Izuku? Or is it just how Izuku sees him?
Is it both?
Either way…it’s done with the same care that he’d admired and, he now admits, envied, on the portraits of Izuku’s other friends.
He looks back to Izuku, and gives a small smile, a half shrug.
“I suppose I didn’t think I’d make it in.”
Izuku gapes. His head snaps up to look at Shouto fully.
“Wh— what? Shouto, of course— why, you’re one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met!”
“But that’s not who you draw portraits of,” Shouto points out, and Izuku stutters then falls silent.
“Well…okay. No, you’re right.”
There’s an expectant silence where Shouto hopes for more.
As ever, if he waits long enough, Izuku speaks.
“I just…I really ended up enjoying my time here, with…with you. And I…wasn’t sure it was…quite the same, for you, so I didn’t want to…overstep.”
Those fingers worry the journal still held to his chest. Shouto’s eyes dip to it for a moment, before returning.
“You didn’t overstep.”
Those fingers freeze —
And Izuku looks at him, with big, cautious, nervous eyes.
Abruptly, for some reason, Shouto remembers what Izuku had told him once — that he’d not really had friends, back in his hometown.
“I didn’t?”
Shouto shakes his head.
“If I had any artistic ability, I’d do the same.”
Izuku turns pink — but, Shouto notices, his shoulders also untense, a little.
“R-really? I wasn’t sure if…I mean, you said you’d been with an alpha before, which I’m sure must be different, so I wasn’t sure if I…measured up?" He gives a nervous laugh. "And it was your rut, turns out, so if you’d rather not…mention it, I mean, if it was a mistake…”
Shouto’s hand has reached out and slid onto Izuku’s thigh before can even think it. The bunny stutters to a halt.
Shouto leans in.
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
He bends down…and kisses him.
There’s a moment, a brief, scary moment, where he thinks Izuku isn’t going to return it.
But then there’s a soft breath, an exhale against his lips — and Izuku is kissing back.
They part, soft.
“I love this place,” Shouto says, quietly. “I loved being alone. But I’ve also loved having you here, and though that was an accident…and I certainly never meant to feel like this…it’s still not a mistake.”
Izuku sucks in a shaky breath, staring at him.
“I…I wish…”
He stops.
Shouto shifts closer.
“What?”
Izuku slowly lowers the journal from his chest, looks at it in his lap. His expression is hidden.
“It’s…remember I told you, once, that it’s…hard, to find travelling companions?”
Fingers rub over smooth, black leather.
“At first that was just because…I…” Midoriya’s shoulders hunch. “Well. Because I…didn’t have friends. But then later, even when I gained some, people…"
He pauses, swallows tightly.
"I mean, they don’t want to leave home. And that’s fair. I wouldn’t ask it of them.”
He finally looks up, and Shouto’s surprised to see a stubborn cast to his face; that set, determined look that's familiar, now.
“Which is why I won’t ask it of you.”
Shouto’s eyes go wide.
“I know you— it’s clear, that you love this place,” Izuku continues, a bit stilted as he clearly tries to find words. “I know you left…wherever you were from, to find a real home. I’ve really liked this time with you, and I wish that…but I won’t, I won’t ask you to leave a home you clearly care about. I’m grateful for what you’ve given, really, and it’s…it’s more than enough.”
Shouto feels his heart, his thoughts, still.
This was enough; this was more than enough.
Had he not been the only one thinking that?
…had Izuku offered a relationship of friends with benefits not as a way to gently tell Shouto not to hope for more, but because he hadn't thought he could ask for more?
Suddenly he feels — somehow, in this moment — balanced in the middle of a judge’s scale, dead centre. And whichever way he tips…he won’t be able to go back.
That dream he'd had slips into his mind. Izuku, saying he'll stay. But that wouldn't make Izuku happy, he knows that, has known since the first time Izuku started telling him about his travels with such obvious joy at the recollection. It's part of why he tried so hard to forget that dream. But was that really what's made it haunt him so strongly regardless? A desire for Izuku to stay here?
Or does he just want Izuku to stay with him?
“Do you want me to travel with you?” he asks, quiet, and knows as he says it that yes…this is right.
Izuku swallows…and looks pained.
“Shouto, I just said…I won’t— ”
“I’m not asking what you will or won’t do,” Shouto interrupts. “I’m asking what you want.”
Izuku’s face creases further, a look of pain and indecision.
“Shouto, I can’t ask you to— ”
“I’m asking,” Shouto says, cutting him off again. “Not you. So tell me.”
Izuku…takes a beat. Then swallows again.
“I do.”
He follows the confession quickly with more.
“But I swear it doesn’t really matter— we haven’t known each other that long, after all, it’d just be nice to have someone…but it doesn’t need to be you! I’d never want— ”
“And if I wanted?” Shouto says, abruptly. His heart beats faintly in his ears. “If I wanted to come?”
Izuku looks shocked.
“But Shouto, you…you love it here.”
“What I like about here is that I get to be myself, in a way I never could before,” Shouto says, honestly, because it's true. “It’s beautiful…but that’s really what makes it home. And with you…”
He shifts the hand on Izuku’s thigh to his hand instead, resting in his lap. He feels Izuku go still.
“It’s true, we haven’t known each other that long. But I think I could be myself, with you. And…I’d like to try.” He curls his fingers around Izuku’s hand, just a little; the touch he didn’t return in time, moments before. “I think I’ve been alone long enough.”
Izuku is very, very still. When he speaks, his words come slow, careful.
“Are…you sure? I…I mean…we could always come back and visit…and, and you can always change your mind, of course…!”
“Of course,” Shouto agrees, easily. “And you can change yours about having me. But what’s an adventure without exploring something new?”
Izuku's eyes snap up at him at that, away from where he’d been staring at Shouto's hand, laid over his. A slightly disbelieving half-smile quirks at his lips.
“Really? With me?”
“We already explored a lot of new things this past week,” Shouto says nonchalantly, and enjoys watching Izuku turn pink. “I think we’re rather good at it.”
Which is true, actually, beyond the gentle jab. Whatever comes next, however their relationship goes…
He thinks he’ll enjoy the journey there.
He glances at the marks he's left visible on Izuku's neck, and wonders if he can leave more, now. If Izuku wouldn't mind showing them off, on the road.
Izuku shoots him a hesitant, slightly disbelieving smile that immediately pulls his attention.
“I…guess you’re right.”
He pauses.
In his grip, Izuku’s hand shifts, twists…and he laces his fingers through Shouto’s.
He looks back up, and Shouto's heart leaps to see that familiar gleam of excitement in the green he so loves.
“Let’s do it.”
Shouto can't help it; he grins. Wider than he has in a while, so wide he can feel the stretch. He wonders if he's finally getting close to the happiness he sees in Izuku's drawing of him. If he is, it's because of Izuku.
Izuku beams back, and Shouto revels in the fact that now he'll get to see this again — every day, even! If he can manage to keep making Izuku smile like this.
And he aims to. He aims to do a lot of things. For the first time, he sees a future with more than just himself in it, and he's going to show Izuku just how worthwhile that future is. He won't regret his decision to bring Shouto along. He's going to show him how good they are together.
He leans down to press another kiss to the omega's lips, and to his delight, Izuku tilts his face up and leans into it, this time. Meeting him halfway.
Shouto's heart flutters in his chest. He can smell Izuku's scent turning bright, so bright and happy.
He's not the only one that feels this way.
For once, that thought isn't a hopeless wish.
Izuku makes a little sound into his mouth, and pulls back unexpectedly only to return by setting his journal aside and climbing into Shouto's lap, straddling him. Shouto blinks, surprised, but his hands go automatically to Izuku's hips, and a purr immediately starts up in his chest. Izuku laughs.
"That happy to have me?"
Shouto smiles…and pulls him closer. Let's his purr grow louder.
"Yes."
Izuku's amusement turns soft, cheeks flushing, smile growing shy, but flattered. His scent swells, still so happy, and Shouto wonders if this is the first time someone's told him such a thing.
They may have more in common than he'd thought.
Izuku moves in closer, kissing him, and Shouto's thoughts scatter in favor of kissing him back.
Well. If it is the first time, Shouto will make sure he hears it again. And again. Because neither of them are alone, now. For the first time he's found someone he wants to be with and, miracle of miracles, they want him back. For the first time in a long while his future is uncertain: the constant of his mountain, his home, gone. Travelling who knows where, encountering who knows what. With the only surety being that the next step will be one Izuku takes with him.
He smiles into their kiss.
He can't wait.