Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When he was a child, his sister would read him stories.

 She’d sneak into his room twenty minutes after their father's strict curfew, help him apply a new bandage and cooling ointment to the blistering left side of his face, and tuck him into bed. 

She’d read to him until he couldn’t keep his eyes open—stories of dragons and warriors, princes and princesses from faraway lands—heroes saving the world, destined by the stars. 

The stories always had romance; it was no secret that this was Shouto’s favorite part. He’d sit in bed, wide-eyed and alert as Fuyumi described the prince waking the princess with true love's first kiss, or an Omega’s love turning an Alpha from frog to man. 

Love. Unconditional, uncomplicated, total and complete. 

As a child, Shouto understood love like that was a fantasy. Every point in his life reminded him that love was hard. How else could he explain what his mother had done to him? 

When he’d asked Fuyumi if their mother still loved him, she stroked his hair and held him close. 

“Of course she does,” She said, “Of course. Love is confusing sometimes, Shouto. It can be hard. Something got twisted up in Mom’s love, made her feel like she had to hurt you and hurt herself. That’s why she’s getting help now, so her love never gets twisted like that again.”

Now, Shouto knows his father caused his mother to spiral, but at the time, the words were comforting.

One night, when the pain was particularly bad, Fuyumi read him a story about True Mates. An Alpha and Omega who were destined to keep coming back to one another, no matter the struggle. Uncomplicated love was hard for Shouto to understand, but this made more sense. Having someone who loved you despite the struggle, despite the pain. Someone who kept coming back.

“Are true mates real?” Shouto asked his sister after the story ended, watching her expectantly. Fuyumi looked thoughtful, closing her book with a quiet snap.

“They are,” she said after a moment of contemplation. “But it’s a little different than in the stories.” One thing about his sister, she never spoke to him like he was a child. Probably because she was just a kid herself, only thirteen, and taking care of him in the aftermath of chaos.

“When people talk about True Mates in real life, it’s not because they have to be together like a fairytale. It means their secondary gender recognizes a perfect match.” She told him, bringing his blanket up and tucking it under his chin. “It’s very special. I think most people who are True Mates these days end up together.”

“Do I have a True Mate?” Shouto questioned, little fingers curling over the edge of his blanket. Fuyumi smiled at him, brushed his hair back, and kissed his forehead. 

“You might,” She said, “You’ll know as soon as you see them, so be sure to tell me if you do, okay?” 

Shouto nodded in agreement. This made sense to him. He was happy to hear that it could be real, that kind of love. He remembers wanting it, even then. 

Fuyumi was wrong, though. 

Katsuki exploded into his life with fire. Quite literally, with explosions popping from his hands and a loud mouth. 

And, at first, Shouto hated him for it.

Heat, fire, and any form it took caused so much misfortune, and it followed him. It haunted him: his mother and her boiling pot of water, his father’s flames, and the legacy he was supposed to carry on by inheriting them.

That’s part of the reason he and Katsuki didn’t get along their first year. Shouto found him insufferable, and Katsuki hated him for the Sports Festival incident. 

They got closer as the years went on, though. Unfortunate events piled up until they seeped from the subconscious and bled into dreams. For Shouto, they took the shape of his brother, engulfed in his blue flames, burning their entire family to a crisp, until only ash and bone remained.

 Or they followed the start of the fire that persisted in his life. The night his mother scarred him. Her wails, gut-wrenching things that were pulled from the very core of her, piercing his ears and settling heavily in his bones. Her frantic eyes as she tried to fix what she’d done, her weeping apologies. The way her icy hands felt against the unbearable burning of his skin.

It was the first time he’d heard an Omega in true distress. Even despite him being a child, the thick acidic scent of her fear and pain was strong enough for him to smell. 

Shouto wasn’t exactly sure what haunted Katsuki. He might’ve had an idea, but the most he knew was that Katsuki was haunted just the same, and that was enough. It was enough for them to grow from disliking one another, to spending their nights together. It was enough for Shouto to start seeing the fire Katsuki brought to his life as a warming glow. Not destructive, not evil. A flickering orange beacon in the night. It brought them close even with Shouto’s lack of presentation.

Then, they kissed, Shouto presented as a Prime Alpha, and things got complicated. Because suddenly, the night he came back from a grueling four-day rut, he was locking eyes with Bakugou Katsuki, and Shouto knew .

The smell of him, smoke and sweet, tart and warm . Those wine-colored eyes, defiant, strong, determined. Shouto knew all at once that Bakugou Katsuki was his , just as he was Katsuki’s in turn. 

Shouto has always known complicated love, but Katsuki is probably the most frustrating Omega he’s ever courted. The only Omega he’s ever courted, but frustrating just the same.

 If he was sure the Omega didn’t want this, that he didn’t want Shouto and their True Mate bond, Shouto could accept that. Truthfully, Shouto understands his hesitation. Katsuki will make a great Hero, but to the public, he will always be an Omega first and a Hero second. Complicating that further by debuting with Shouto by his side would be challenging to navigate. 

Despite his lack of understanding of social cues, Shouto is aware of who he is, what his name means, and what his hereditarily inherited Prime status will do once people catch wind of it. He’s all too aware of what his father expects as well. And it would be impossible for him to ask Katsuki to grin and bear it just to make him happy. 

So he hasn’t. He’s stood still, and let Katsuki move around him. He’s presented Katsuki with the option of choosing him, even if that meant dealing with the waxing and waning whiplash of Katsuki’s want. Shouto is practiced in the art of dealing with hot and cold, it has made him patient. 

Right now, Katsuki’s want is running hot. So Shouto takes the time that's afforded to him. 

That time looks like Shouto sneaking into Katsuki’s room every night. 

Truly, he tries his best not to push Katsuki. Shouto has learned that he startles easily from affection and it can have disastrous results. But the night after Katsuki asked if Shouto would come home with him, Shouto couldn’t sleep. Spending the day not speaking to one another, not even looking, made the idea of sleeping alone wholly unappealing, and his instincts were restless. 

Dropping down from his balcony onto Katsuki’s wasn’t a well-thought-out plan. So much of what he was doing included not being the one to pursue, not spooking Katsuki too much with his persistent want. But the damage was done, and Katsuki only hit him with a pillow twice for the intrusion. 

The entire week leading up to Winter Break, they slept together. Just sleeping, because Katsuki was too paranoid about them smelling like one another to do anything else. He didn’t want their scents lingering for too long, he didn’t want their classmates, or anyone else, knowing about them.

Despite this, as the week dwindled and Winter Break grew closer, Shouto noticed how quickly Katsuki’s scent would spike with arousal. It was a scent he’d memorized, all hot liquid caramel and the sweet-tart taste of cherries, but it hadn’t actually been a pressing issue. 

Not until right this very second.

In hindsight, Shouto should’ve known this was inevitable. His face, buried between Katsuki’s thighs, his tongue roving over the hot bud of the Omega’s clit. His hand, stretched out and splayed over Katsuki’s chest, rolling his nipple between his fingers—Katsuki’s moans, entirely too loud and rough as they tumble out of him. 

Most of their classmates have already left for home, so that’s probably why Katsuki isn’t monitoring the sound of his own voice. It’s good, Shouto wants to hear him, every moan, every whimper. 

But they have to catch a train in less than an hour, and here Shouto is, lost between his Omega’s thighs. 

Well, not his. Not yet. 

Katsuki’s fingers tighten in his hair, and Shouto watches through the flutter of his eyelashes as the Omega throws his head back. He’s been squirming ever since Shouto got his mouth on him, unable to stop rolling his hips into Shouto’s face as his tongue laps over his clit.

It’s so painfully cute, the way he’s twitching and gasping, that Shouto can’t even be upset with himself for breaking the ‘don’t pursue’ rule. 

Katsuki smelled so warm and content this morning, had even let out a little purr as Shouto kissed him awake. Then, he’d started smelling hot, spiced with want, and all of Shouto’s carefully crafted patience snapped.

His slick is sweet and smokey, and Shouto drags his tongue down through the Omega’s folds, lapping at his entrance to taste it from the source. Katsuki’s next moan is shaky, and his grip in Shouto’s hair goes painfully tight as he tries to drag his head closer. Shouto circles the tip of his tongue around the Omega’s entrance before dragging it back up and closing his lips around Katsuki’s flushed clit. 

He sucks, closing his eyes and moaning a deep rumble as Katsuki gasps and yanks his hair. The taste of his slick and the hot flush of his pussy has Shouto painfully hard and rutting mindlessly into the mattress. The dull pleasure that races through him isn’t enough, but it’s okay because his Alpha instincts are perfectly content underneath his skin. They’ve got him thrumming with something like pride and possessiveness as he drinks Katsuki down. 

“Shouto, fuck,” Katsuki’s moans start coming out higher pitched, and Shouto knows he’s close. Dragging his hand from the Omega’s chest, Shouto hums, his eyes fluttering back open as he noses further into Katsuki's cunt. He wraps his fingers around the Omega’s pretty little dick to stroke it in time with his flicking tongue.

Honestly, Shouto could do this all day. He’s been itching to get his mouth on Katsuki since they first stumbled onto that couch together, and it’s even better than he’d imagined. It has his mind going blank until he's boiled down to nothing but his own instincts, which urge him to claim, consume, and make his Omega feel as good as possible.

Not his, Shouto reminds himself. Not yet.

Katsuki is so pretty like this, with fading bruises littering his skin, arching into Shouto’s touch, a brink away from cumming. He has a death grip on Shouto’s hair and is gaping out profanities as Shouto’s hand strips over his dick, moving in time with the broad stripes and flicking point of his tongue. He’s dripping with slick, it’s smearing all over Shouto’s chin and driving him insane, fogging his brain as his hips grind on the mattress with steadily growing urgency. 

“Don’t you fucking stop, don’t stop, shit-” Katsuki moans, begging like Shouto might actually leave him high and dry. He couldn’t even if he tried. Katsuki tastes too good, has Shouto moaning against his flushed clit, burying his face in deep and sucking at the bundle of nerves until those thick thighs tighten around his ears.

 Katsuki humps against his face desperately, and Shouto follows the rhythm the Omega has set, grinding his cock into the mattress and chasing the dull ache of that pleasure.

Shouto stares up at the Omega, completely lost on him, eager to watch his face as he cums. He needs it, the familiar draw of Katsuki’s eyebrows, the way his kissed-swollen lips fall open, the tremble of his muscles. Shouto just wants to make him feel good, just wants him to know how beautiful and worthy he is.

How he could have more if he just asked. 

When Katsuki cums, it's with shaking thighs and a high-pitched whine. He gets even wetter, his pussy flooding slick as Shouto works him through it, lapping all through his folds and over the pulsing bud of his clit, squeezing and stroking every hot drop of cum from his dick. 

Shouto’s self-control is normally iron-clad. He’s intentional about what he does and says. For years, he suppressed an entire half of himself and didn’t waver until he’d finally decided his flames were his to wield. In this moment, with Katsuki’s slick on his tongue and the sweet gasping sound of his name on the Omega's lips, that same self-control is a very distant thing. It’s buried under a thick layer of fog and instinct.

So Shouto doesn’t stop, even as those thighs shake around his head in overstimulation. He can’t; all around him is the smell of Katsuki’s pleasure, the hot tart-sweet taste of his slick, his fingers clawing against Shouto’s scalp. He’s everywhere, and Shouto is lost to a reality that isn’t him. 

“Shouto,” Katsuki is whining, something broken and high, his hips jerking as Shouto sucks at his clit, “I can’t cum again, I can’t, you fucking ass, oh fuck .”

“You can.” Shouto rumbles against his skin, and the rough timbre of his voice is a true testament to just how far gone he is. He’s an octave away from dipping to Alpha Command territory, and Katsuki seems to like it if the way he’s crying out is any indication. 

Shouto roves his tongue over Katsuki’s steadily weeping entrance, his hands coming around to hold tight at the thighs that bracket his face. His nose nudges against Katsuki’s clit as he slips his tongue inside, pushing in as deep as he can. The Omega thrashes, and Shouto’s grip on those thighs turns unwaveringly tight, keeping Katsuki in place as he uses his tongue to fuck the slick walls of Katsuki’s pussy.

His name is a mantra on Katsuki’s lips, accompanied by the occasional curse and declaration that Shouto is a slut. In moments like this, everything is painfully simple. Even his own pleasure, his hips growing erratic where he’s thrusting against the mattress. Everything in Shouto is zeroed in on Katsuki because, finally, Shouto can show how much he cares for the Omega, even if it’s in this one small way.

When Katsuki cums a second time, he’s arching off the bed and shaking from head to toe. Shouto has to hold him down, grip iron-clad on his thighs so he doesn’t squirm away, working him through each wave. He clamps down tight on Shouto’s tongue, and the rush of slick floods right into Shouto’s mouth. 

There’s ringing in Shouto’s ears. Some mix of Katsuki’s winded, stuttering moans and his instincts, a rumbling insistence of mine mine mine. He’s coming too, Shouto belatedly realizes, his hips jerking into the mattress as he shoots hot streams of cum into his boxers.

He only stops licking at Katsuki’s pussy when the Omega goes limp against the bed, aftershocks twitching through his legs. Those fingers turn gentle in his hair, petting through the tangles as Shouto rests his cheek on a pale thigh, panting hot air over Katsuki’s skin as the last of his orgasm bleeds through him. 

As he relaxes, Shouto tries to gather the fraying edges of his control. He feels warm all over and dangerously off-kilter. Dangerous because, like this, with his brain foggy and his Alpha a roar in his chest, he’ll do something that Katsuki isn’t ready for. He’ll be too soft or act too in love. He’ll scare Katsuki off before he can even get a chance. 

The Omega doesn’t give him much time, though, tugging on his hair and grunting out a dazed, “Come here, idiot.” 

Shouto is weak to him, so he follows the request, crawling up the bed and kissing those waiting lips. He gives gentle presses against that plush mouth, and Katsuki lets him, drawing him close with arms around his neck and legs around his hips until they’re pressed close together. He lets the Omega taste himself from his mouth, kissing slow and deep, completely unhurried.

  After he cums, Katsuki goes pliant, and this time is no different. The wine red of his eyes are soft and nearly gentle when Shouto pulls back, and the Omega strokes his fingers through Shouto’s hair in an effort to fix the strands he was responsible for tangling. 

The soothing caresses are horrible for Shouto’s self-control; they dare to lull him deeper into the fog and deeper into the illusion that he might actually have Katsuki. 

Katsuki pouts at him. He might think he’s just frowning, but Shouto has long since decided the soft protrusion of his bottom lip is too plump to be a frown, no matter what Katsuki insists. 

“You never told me where you learned to kiss.” Katsuki grunts. 

He looks so cute when he’s jealous. His eyebrows are all furrowed up, and he has an angry glint in his eyes. Shouto can’t help but smile, resisting the urge to kiss that pouty mouth. 

“The summer of our second year,” Shouto answers, pulling himself from Katsuki’s embrace as he stitches every frayed edge of his self-control back together. The impending urgency of the time helps with that; he doesn’t want to miss their train.

 Glancing over at Katsuki’s alarm clock, he sees they’re cutting it close. If they don’t start heading out soon, they’ll be in trouble, and Shouto doesn’t want to leave a bad impression by showing up late. Family is complicated for him, but it seems important to Katsuki. Shouto doesn’t want to mess it up.

Katsuki glares at him as he sits up, watching Shouto remove his soiled boxers. Katsuki insisted that he needed to bring a change of clothes the night before and Shouto changes into them now, pulling fresh boxers up his legs as Katsuki’s glare burrows into his back.

“With who?” The Omega asks, too stiff to be casual, and Shouto pauses. He grabs his shirt, a knitted white turtleneck, and turns to look at Katsuki. 

He’s confusing. 

Sometimes, he asks Shouto questions he knows he doesn’t want the answer to, like some kind of test. Shouto isn’t sure what he expects. If he’s supposed to say something other than the truth, or if he even passes. 

“Momo Yaoyorozu.” Shouto says, pulling his shirt on. Katsuki’s glare turns sharp. 

His jealousy and possessiveness never fails to shoot a thrill through Shouto, as confusing as it all is. It’s nice to know for a moment that Katsuki might want him that strongly. Shouto can’t be sure that the Omega’s feelings are consistent when it comes to him; he’d been so adamant about Shouto staying away before.

Shouto’s feelings, though, are painfully consistent. They seem to thread through him, pulling him along on a string that leads to Katsuki no matter where he turns. Trying to stifle that feels like throwing a sheet over the elephant in the room and expecting no one to notice. 

The brief summer fling he had with Momo was never like this. In part because it was before either of them presented, and he and Momo never had romantic feelings for one another. Affection, but never the sharp whip of want that tears through him whenever Katsuki so much as looks his way.

They’d grown up friends because the circle of wealthy, affluent hero families is  small, and his father made sure to maintain relationships with those he deemed good enough. 

They’d stopped after Momo presented as an Omega just before school started up again; they hadn’t wanted their families getting any ideas. His father was already saying shit about ‘Welcoming the Yaoyorozus’ into the Todoroki clan.’ Shouto had cut him down with a blunt declaration of how that would never happen.

Katsuki is quiet, his mouth set in a jealous frown, and his eyes hold a far away look. He’s beautiful, leaning back on his hands, miles, and miles of naked pale skin on display. There are bite marks littered over his chest, ringed around his nipples, and bruises purpling his skin. The sheen of slick still reflecting off the inside of his thighs makes Shouto feel warm and sharp all at once, have those feelings he’s supposed to be monitoring rushing to the surface. 

They’re strange feelings, all-consuming. Billowing and goopy, rolling in thick waves through him. And when it’s really bad, those feelings start folding into themselves, eating away at the bloodied tissue and the muscle of his heart.

Shouto tugs his jeans up and his want turns into need, prickling across his skin with fiery urgency that has him walking back over to the bed. His knee sinks into the mattress as he wraps his fingers around Katsuki’s ankles, and the Omega snaps back to reality. His pretty eyes widen with shock as Shouto tugs him down the bed with one strong pull. 

“What the fuck-” Katsuki gasps, the sound of his voice lost in the air as the force of Shouto’s pulling makes him fall back against the mattress. The sheets get rucked up around him as Shouto yanks, hands moving up from ankles to thighs as Katsuki gets closer. 

Shouto pulls once more so those long legs dangle over the edge, and Katsuki shoves himself back up into a sitting position, something like murder in his eyes. All Shouto can do is laugh. It’s a nearly silent sound, just a puff of air pushed out of his nose because his need for Katsuki is too hot in his veins for anything else.

Shouto considers how badly he must have it if he finds Katsuki beautiful, even in his anger. How far gone he must be as he ignores the dangerous glint of teeth Katsuki bares at him, instead sliding his hand around to grip lightly at the back of the Omega’s head. Before Katsuki can open his mouth to start cursing him out, Shouto draws him into a gentle kiss. 

He doesn’t think about whether it's a good idea or if this action will be too much. Shouto has always known hard love, and what he’s started building with Katsuki is worth the struggle. 

Even if Katsuki doesn’t see that just yet.

 He kisses those plush lips again and again because Katsuki allows it, slowly softening under each press. He kisses the Omega until the smell of his jealousy is gone, replaced by sweet contentment. Until Katsuki is completely pliant, leaning back on his hands and tilting his face up to get more.

Softening Katsuki up with kisses is quickly becoming one of Shouto’s favorite things. It’s surprisingly effective, but it’s just as dangerous for Shouto. If he lingers too long, he’ll get carried away, and they’ll end up right back in bed.

“Alright, alright,” Katsuki grunts, swerving another kiss Shouto tries to give him with a jerk of his head. Shouto’s lips land at the corner of his mouth. He frowns.

“We’re going to be late.” The Omega says, and Shouto raises his eyebrows as Katsuki shoves his face away. Straightening up, Shouto watches Katsuki climb to his feet, arms reaching high up in the air to stretch his naked muscles. 

“You’re the only one still naked.” Shouto points out, amusement twinkling in his chest and shining in his eyes. He buttons his jeans up, ignoring the scowl Katsuki gives as he dresses.

“Hurry,” Shouto says, mostly to get underneath Katsuki’s skin. “It’ll leave a bad impression on your parents if we show up late.”

“Shouto,” Katsuki grits out in warning, standing in front of his desk, his back to Shouto as he pulls on a dark pair of jeans, “I will blow you up.” 

There’s no actual heat in his voice, and Shouto knows the threat is empty. He comes up behind the Omega, spinning him around by his hips and buttoning his jeans for him. 

He cannot stop smiling when he says, “You’ll have to wait, there’s not enough time for explosions.”

Shouto only sees a flash of red eyes and a blur of pale-blonde hair before he’s tackled to the bed.

Standing on the train platform, with big flakes of snow drifting from an overcast sky, Shouto stares openly at Katsuki’s face. The apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose have gone pink with the cold, and he’s shivering even in his oversized puffy jacket. He’s cute like this, drowning in layers of clothes Shouto helped him into and clutching at the handle of his suitcase as a lifeline. 

Shouto’s eyes linger on those gloved hands, and he itches to reach out and thread their fingers together. To draw Katsuki close to his side and warm him up, nose into the soft explosion of blonde hair, and scent him until they smell so strongly of one another anyone would assume they’re mated.

 But sitting between them is the unfortunate barrier of their suitcases, packed heavily for their two-week stay, and Shouto can’t think of a way to bridge the gap. 

As much as he wants Katsuki, as much as that want blurs into need until it's a sweeping swirl of too-intense feeling, Shouto is still bad at interacting with people, social cues and societal standards. He grew up with trainers, tutors, and strict discipline. There was never any room for socializing. 

Shouto knows how to properly behave at a table, how to use his chopsticks and which way to lay them once he’s finished, when to use his napkin and how to pour drinks for the table. But how to act when courting an Omega? Shouto only has the bits of remembered fairy tales for reference.

Most of the time, he’s simply allowing his instincts to drive. And being a Prime, he has a solid compass to follow. A heightened sense of smell, an Alpha Command Voice, born with the innate qualities of a leader, destined to seek out someone just as strong to stand beside.

That same instinct, the acknowledgment of Katsuki as both his True Mate and a strong Omega, often guides Shouto into challenging him. Bickering with him, just for the sake of it. Maybe it has something to do with Shouto’s Alpha feeling like he has to properly prove himself, that he must work to be worthy of Katsuki’s acceptance and affection. 

They’ve been playing that game back and forth for a while now; Shouto can’t even remember when it started. Katsuki, challenging him to a chase through the dorms, Shouto challenging Katsuki in the Arcade. And now Shouto itches with that same instinct. It has him tilting his head as the Omega turns to look at him, his ponytail falling over his shoulder as those sharp red eyes narrow.

“You’re shivering.” Shouto points out with a blasé hum, adjusting his scarf with a half-hearted hand. He’s not in nearly as many layers, just his sweater, blue scarf, jeans, and boots. Katsuki’s nose twitches with irritation, and Shouto suppresses a smile.                   

“I’m freezing my fucking ass off; not all of us are goddamn heaters.” Katsuki snaps, and for a second, Shouto can’t decide if he looks more like an angry pomeranian or a cat. 

“More like a thermostat,” Shouto says easily, swinging his suitcase out of the way and grabbing it with his right hand instead—one barrier down. Katsuki pouts at him, looking wary of his sudden proximity. Complaints about the cold wetness of the snow and swatting at any attempts of affection; a cat today, then.  Luckily, Shouto loves cats.

Shouto lets his body temperature rise until he’s a little toasty in his sweater and radiates steam from his left side. It floats up lazily, in gentle waves that have snowflakes melting upon contact. It’s an invitation. For heat, warmth, for a chance of them being close. Katsuki’s eyes sharpen into a searing glare. 

“You’re an asshole.” He grouses, whipping his head around to stare resolutely at the empty tracks, gripping his suitcase handle even tighter. As stubborn as Katsuki is, Shouto can see the Omega sway towards him, his suitcase wheeling closer until it’s just barely brushing up against Shouto’s jeans. 

“And you’re a brat.” Shouto shoots back, looking out towards the tracks with a plain stare. From the corner of his eye, he can see Katsuki turn to deliver a scathing glare, but he pretends not to notice. Those wine-colored eyes flicker over his face before he’s moving his suitcase out of the way, taking a tiny step towards Shouto as if he won’t notice. 

Cute. 

“Socially inept idiot.” Katsuki shoots back. The insult rolls off Shouto’s shoulders because the Omega is leaning into his space now, filling his nose with the intoxicating scent of a cherry-smoked bonfire. 

“Hard-headed loud mouth,”  Shouto says easily, resisting the urge to turn his head as Katsuki’s jacket brushes against his arm. Instead, he extends his hand out just a little, palm upwards. Another offer. Katsuki ducks his head, hiding his face.

 He’s grumbling when he responds, “Slutty thermostat.” 

Then he slides his hand into Shouto’s, threading their fingers together and pressing close. Heady Alpha pride swoops through Shouto in syrupy waves, and he can’t fight back his smile now. It’s a small thing, just a slight tilt of his mouth. He feels exactly like what Katsuki just called him: an idiot. Gently squeezing Katsuki’s gloved hand has him thrumming, his a musky-sweetness of Alpha happiness. Katsuki’s affections are hard-earned.

Shouto looks at the Omega, the urge finally too strong to stop, and those red eyes and pouty lips are already turned on him, full force. 

“Stop.” Katsuki snaps, too pink in the face to look appropriately annoyed. Shouto can’t help but tease him a little more, tilting his head in question. 

“Stop what?”

“Looking like you’ve won something.” 

Shouto’s smile stretches just the tiniest bit. He leans in as close as he dares, warm breath fanning over Katsuki’s face. For a moment, he just watches the Omega. The slight dilation of his eyes, the cloud of air puffing out from his mouth, the soft pink of a plush bottom lip. 

Glancing back up to those eyes, Shouto quietly wonders if he’d be allowed to kiss the Omega. Here, in public, with other people around them waiting to board the train. They’re already holding hands, and no one seems to be paying much attention. Maybe he could risk it, just a quick peck.

 Shouto watches as Katsuki’s eyes slide down to his mouth and then flick up just as quickly, a frown pulling at his lips. His scent is sweet and bitter, overripe cherries burned up in a campfire. Conflicted. It’s answer enough and has Shouto leaning back with a barely restrained sigh. 

“I haven’t won yet.” He hums, and for a moment, Shouto thinks he’s been clever, that he’s lightening the mood up so they can continue the easy back-and-forth. But Katsuki’s eyes narrow. Dangerously, genuinely. Some strange mix of anger and indignation. 

“I’m not a prize for you to win, jackass.” He snaps, all sharp canines and scrunched nose, whipping his head around to stare into the snowy tracks.

And just like that, Katsuki is fuming. Shouto blinks.

The sour-spicy scent of Katsuki’s anger wafts into his nose, thick and familiar to Shouto. His Alpha instincts prickle at the smell, raising the hair on his arms on end and urging him to fix whatever he’s fucked up. To gather Katsuki close and press gentle kisses all over his face until he’s melting and purring in Shouto’s arms, smelling like content. 

For once, Shouto doesn’t listen to his instincts. He knows it would only worsen the situation if he tried that now. Instead, he stares at Katsuki’s profile, taking in the scrunch of his brow and the frown on his mouth. He hasn’t let go of Shouto’s hand, which is a good sign.

When Katsuki gets like this, it takes a while for Shouto to catch up. Shouto isn’t great at handling explosive emotion, even when it isn’t harmful, and Katsuki is a well of exploding affection, anger, and everything else in-between. He’s learning to adjust to it. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Shouto says earnestly, gently squeezing Katsuki’s hand. He’s found it’s best to go with his gut in this situation: just be honest. Trying to figure out the social layers that he’s missing would only work to prolong everything. 

When Katsuki doesn’t look at him, he sighs, turning to stare out into the snowy air. 

“I know you aren’t a prize, Katsuki.” Shouto murmurs, “I’m sorry if I implied that you were. You’re more than that to me.” 

Maybe he’s been a little too honest, but it’s the only way Shouto can think to rectify the situation. He doesn’t expect a response, either. Katsuki needs time to work through his feelings; Shouto doesn’t want to push or interrupt that. He just wants to make his intentions clear, so Katsuki has the best possible information to make decisions with. 

This time, though, it seems Katsuki wants a fight. 

“Why do you always do that?” He hisses, pulling Shouto’s gaze away from the tracks to his red, angry face. He’s beautiful, even now. Shouto’s urge to kiss him becomes dangerous. But he’s also very, very confused. Has he managed to do something else wrong? What answer is Katsuki searching for?

“What?” He asks, blinking a little owlishly at the Omega. Katsuki grits his teeth, eyes ablaze.  

“Act like you’re so much fucking better at this than I am?” Katsuki snaps, yanking his hand from Shouto’s. “I know I’m being impossible, I know you’re angry with me, why don’t you ever fucking show it? Why are you always so goddamn sweet?”

Shouto stares, bewildered, as Katsuki scrubs his hands over his face, looking annoyed beyond comprehension.

“You’re always giving in or whatever. I know you didn’t mean it like that, fucking Christ.”

And now, Shouto is really confused. Katsuki knew he didn’t mean it like that, so what's the problem? Why does the Omega want to argue? Is that how he wants Shouto to pursue him, like he’s a prize to be won? Or is he just looking for a reason to yell? Shouto isn’t sure. He’s not better at this; he’s stumbling around blindly, hoping his instincts guide him to the correct answer.

“I’m not angry with you,” Shouto says, and he’s not. Maybe annoyed sometimes, frustrated even, but never angry. “Do you want me to be angry with you?”

“No.” Katsuki snaps, snatching up Shouto’s hand again and threading their fingers together. Shouto blinks slowly, gently squeezing the Omega’s hand in response.

“I just…” Katsuki sighs, and for a second, Shouto can see the tall walls he keeps around his emotions wavering—just a little. 

“I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one that’s a fucking mess. You always leave it up to me.”

At this, Shouto is shocked silent. Katsuki, the only one who’s a mess? Shouto has thought about kissing him maybe five times while they’re supposed to be in the middle of a fight. If that isn’t him being a mess, he doesn’t know what is.

 And leaving it all up to Katsuki? Shouto thought that's what he wanted. He needs to be an option for Katsuki; anything else more concrete has scared the Omega off.

Before he can say anything, the tracks are shaking, and the train horn is blaring out in the cold air. 

They board together, dropping hands to make the whole process easier. They make their way down the aisles to their seats, which are towards the back of the train and sparsely populated by other passengers. 

They shove their luggage in the compartments overhead, and Katsuki finds his seat first, angry and pouty as he gazes out the window. Shouto slides into the spot next to him, a frown pulling at his lips as he leans back against the seat cushion.

 This trip may be a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to come. Katsuki seems especially tense, and Shouto knows the Omega wasn’t thinking about his parents when he invited Shouto to his home. Maybe nerves are making him lash out.

Or has Shouto been too passive in his pursuits? 

Shouto frowns. He can’t imagine he has. How many times did he ask Katsuki out just to be turned down? How many times has he extended himself? How many times has he wanted, with every fiber and sinew of his body, for Katsuki to choose him? 

Shouto has wanted, but has he shown Katsuki the full extent of that want?

 Maybe not. 

But only because Katsuki has repeatedly shown that he doesn’t want that. Every time Shouto shows interest, it blows up in his face. Katsuki has been clear that this has to be on his terms and his terms only.

When Shouto is sure of something, he pursues it fully. He doesn’t want easily; he'd been conditioned not to want at all. So when he does, he can’t love at anything other than one hundred percent. Tamping himself down has been particularly hard.

Love.

That’s what this is about. Love and want. Simultaneous feelings with blurred lines. 

Katsuki is right. Shouto has been leaving decisions up to him. He’s waited for Katsuki each time. And he’ll keep waiting if that’s what Katsuki needs.

But he can’t force the Omega to say yes. He can only do so much. It’s cruel to expect Shouto to decide for him. 

The train whistles out once more, and the wheels start moving on the tracks, slowly chugging forward until the station is sliding by. Katsuki looks firmly out the window, long blonde eyelashes brushing against his cheeks with every blink. 

Shouto sets his jaw. He’s not sure what Katsuki wants from him. He’s not sure how he's supposed to act, what he’s supposed to say, how Katsuki wants to be pursued, or if he even wants that from Shouto. 

Shouto knows what he wants. He knows Katsuki is his, and he is Katsuki’s. 

They’re True Mates, and sure, Shouto never expected Katsuki to want him just because of that, but doesn’t it mean anything? Is he the only one that cares about it? The thought that he might be alone in feeling that all-consuming want is troubling to Shouto. 

Sometimes, he feels like a lone ship in the dead of night, sailing on steadily to the edge of the world, where he’ll plummet to his death.  

They make it to Katsuki’s hometown by mid-afternoon, and the snow is coming down in heavy flakes as the train pulls into the station. Sometime during the ride, Katsuki fell asleep, his head on Shouto’s shoulder, clenching gently at Shouto’s hand. 

He looks so peaceful, drooling on Shouto’s sweater and wrinkling his nose now and then, finding something to be annoyed about, even in his dreams. Shouto is almost tempted not to wake him, to let them sit here until the train clears out. But he also doesn’t want to risk being late. He’s not exactly sure what time they’re supposed to be at Katsuki’s house; whenever he asked, the Omega found a way to avoid answering. But showing up later than dinner time would be rude. 

For a while, Shouto just allows himself to look. To brush his fingers over a soft cheek and to watch the gentle flutter of blonde lashes. It’s not a surprising revelation that he wants this, that if he could find a way to have it all the time, he would. There’s something in him deeply satisfied with the image of Katsuki on his arm, smelling content. 

Shouto hums, gently shaking the Omega’s shoulder. 

“Katsuki,” He murmurs, “Katsuki, we’re here.”

People shuffle around them, gathering their luggage with low chatter as they leave the train. Katsuki grumbles, turning to hide his face further against Shouto’s shoulder. 

Shouto shakes him just a little harder until the Omega lifts his head with a sleepy-eyed glare. 

“We’re here,” Shouto says again, brushing away some of the hair plastered to Katsuki’s forehead. The Omega blinks at him, no doubt working on coming to his senses, and once again, Shouto is attacked by the urge to kiss him. All of his frustration, gone with just a glance at the Omega's face. It’s almost painful how long Shouto knows he’ll wait. How much he wants. 

He can’t force Katsuki to say yes, but he’ll never stop wanting to hear it.

For a second, Shouto debates just doing it, capturing Katsuki’s lips in a kiss and damning the consequences. 

He almost does it. He can feel his resolve dissolve into a shimmer of snowflakes as Katsuki looks at him, all annoyed, soft, and beautiful. He can feel himself leaning in just a bit closer, searching those red eyes. But the bang of something against his seat and soft laughing stops him dead in his tracks.

When Shouto looks up, an older Omega man is staring at them. He’s wrapped up tight in an oversized coat. He’s a foreigner with long curly hair and dark skin, one hand on his luggage and his other extended out, holding the hand of the man in front of him. He’s probably visiting his mate's family for the holiday. They’re shuffling forward slowly, the line to get off the train long and backed up.

Before he even says a word, Shouto can feel Katsuki stiffen beside him, and he knows he messed up again. He can’t even begin to hope that the man won’t say anything to make the situation worse because he’s opening his mouth and doing just that.

“It’s best to get home quick, little Alpha,” The man says, his accent thick, a gentle smile on his face. “There’s a blizzard coming; you and your mate don’t want to get caught in the storm.” 

Katsuki is deadly silent beside him, and Shouto can only blink and nod. The foreign man’s mate turns his head and raises an eyebrow. They begin talking in English, and Shouto can’t understand. He thinks he catches the words ‘love’ and ‘young,’ but he’s never been very good in English class.

When he turns back towards Katsuki, the Omega is staring at him, and there’s an expression on his face that Shouto can’t place. He expected anger, but the furrow of blonde eyebrows and parted lips are something else, something more complicated. He doesn’t get to look for long because Katsuki is pulling away from him, shielding his face and his emotions. Curling in on himself, like Shouto has watched him do so many times before. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here already.” Katsuki grunts, standing from his seat. Shouto is helpless to do anything but follow.

Standing outside of Katsuki’s house, with snow coming down in thick sheets, Shouto’s stomach twists with nerves. It’s a nice house with high arching walls and rounded corners, a brown gate, and trees dotted in the front. The lights are on inside, warm and yellow. 

Katsuki hasn’t said anything to him since they left the train station. Now, with their luggage in their hands and at least six feet between them, he’s grown fidgety. Shouto can’t bring himself to open his mouth, to say anything. He’s not sure what he could say or if he should apologize. 

What would he apologize for? The Omega man on the train who assumed they were mates? Trying to kiss him in public? Not being able to decide for him? Not being able to quell his doubts? For agreeing to come home with the Omega in the first place when it’s now very apparent how anxious it’s making him? 

If Shouto could take responsibility for it all, he would. But at present, the only thing he’s responsible for is not being able to control himself or his want. 

 He doesn’t know what Katsuki wants. First, it was for him to stay away. Then it changed: He had to be close but not too close. And now? Shouto is about to meet his parents, and he’s halfway sure Katsuki doesn’t even want him here. 

But it’s far too late to go back because they’re walking up the front steps, and Katsuki raises his knuckles to the brown door. He doesn’t seem to have the same nerves Shouto is harboring, just endless bounds of irritation. 

Before Katsuki can even knock, before Shouto can properly brace himself, the door is swung open, and the warmth from inside floods out onto the porch. 

There, in the doorway, is Katsuki’s mother. She’s a beautiful woman, with clear pale skin and the same light blonde hair and red eyes as Katsuki. She’s wearing an apron over a white shirt and a dark skirt, feet stuffed in her house slippers with a wooden cooking spoon in her hand. The soft scent of Alpha wafts from her skin, something floral and light. Not at all oppressive or domineering like the Alpha scents Shouto had grown up with.

For a while, they’re all just standing in the doorway in shocked silence. Shouto, stiff and staring, Katsuki, irritated and fidgety, and Katsuki’s mother, stone-faced as she stares at her son. Briefly, she glances over at Shouto, and nerves churn in his stomach as the woman gives him an assessing once over.

“Let us in; we’re fucking freezing out here,” Katsuki grunts from beside him, and the tension pops like a balloon. His mother's face twists into a sneer, one that Shouto is painfully familiar with seeing on Katsuki’s face. 

In a flash, the woman’s cooking spoon comes down and bonks Katsuki on the head, and then they’re bickering. Loud and unrestrained, Katsuki clutching the top of his head in indignation. 

“Ow! What the fuck is your issue?” Katsuki seethes, bulldozing his way into the house with his mother hot on his heels. Shouto is frozen in the doorway, his nervousness quickly giving way to amusement. 

“First, you never tell me when you’re coming home, and then you show up unannounced with your boyfriend?” The woman barks, her hands perched on her hips as Katsuki toes off his shoes. 

“You should be happy I even showed up, you old hag!” Katsuki snips back, ducking to dodge the wooden spoon-turned weapon. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”

That, Shouto supposes, is true enough. They aren’t technically boyfriends. True Mates, yes, but they’re not together. Not exclusively. Not yet.

The woman scoffs, looking wholly unconvinced as she glances over at Shouto. She gives him another calculating look, scanning him from head to toe as if calibrating in real time if he’s any good for her son. Shouto feels himself stand just a little straighter.

“Then what the hell is an Alpha doing in my doorway, Katsuki?” She asks, turning back to her son and jabbing her thumb in Shouto’s direction. Shouto takes it as an invitation, finally stepping over the threshold and gently closing the door behind him, cutting them off from the tundra outside. He’s immediately surrounded by the warm smell of cooking food, tea, and a cozy intermingling of the family's scent: a spring bonfire that happens to be cooking peppers over the fire.  

“He’s my friend.” Katsuki snaps after a brief moment of hesitation, slipping off his other shoe and stepping up into the hallway. That is also true in some sense, Shouto supposes. They are friends. But he’s not sure how often friends kiss each other or sleep together. 

“A friend?” She scoffs, giving Shouto a heavy side-eye as he removes his shoes. Shouto’s lips twitch into a smile, amusement shining in his eyes. He takes it as an opportunity to introduce himself. 

“I’m sorry for the intrusion, Bakugou-san. I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

The woman blinks at him first with recognition, then shock. Then she glares and looks over at her son. 

“You’re full of shit!” She snaps, following Katsuki into the hallway and snatching him up by the collar of his shirt. Katsuki spouts profanity as his mother yanks him close, burying her face in his hair and taking a big whiff—no doubt smelling for any signs of Shouto’s scent on Katsuki’s person. Katsuki’s face goes red, and Shouto can’t help but laugh. 

It suddenly makes a lot of sense why Katsuki is the way he is. Being the spitting image of his mother wasn't enough; he had her entire personality, too.

“Let go of me, you old hag!”

“You couldn’t even text me, you brat?”

“I was busy!”

“Being courted and you didn’t even tell your own mother!”

“ I am not being fucking courted!”

Shouto follows their struggling forms farther into the house until they walk past an archway into the living room. Katsuki’s luggage bangs against the floors and crashes into a table as he struggles out of his mother's grip, face red with a mix of anger and embarrassment. 

A head pops out from behind the island in the kitchen, and it must be Katsuki’s father. He’s a tall man with brown hair and a mustache. He expertly maneuvers his way around the bickering duo, right towards Shouto. Shouto’s nerves begin creeping in again, prickling ants along his skin. 

“Hi, hello, so sorry about this,” The man says, laughing with an embarrassed edge as he rubs the back of his neck. He’s an Omega, scent a sweet-sour tang with a hint of that peppery scent that fills the home. “Although I’m sure you’re used to it, you know Katsuki after all.”

He smiles and extends his hand. “I’m Masaru Bakugou, so nice to meet you!”

Shouto swallows, then feels like he should keep swallowing because his mouth is suddenly a desert and his stomach a bottomless pit—a well in need of any moisture possible. Taking the extended hand, Shouto gives the man a firm shake, bowing his head a little with the movement. 

“Bakugou-san, it’s very nice to meet you.”

The older Omega waves him off, “Please, call me Masaru.” 

Then his smile gentles. Just a soft curve of lips, crescent eyes, and a knowing look.

“The Alpha courting my Katsuki should be on a first-name basis with his family, after all,” Masaru says, and despite that being exactly what Shouto intends to do, his face feels hot at the words. 

There’s something different about watching Katsuki squirm and deny all involvement with him and then being faced with suspicions of their relationship himself. Partly because he knows he’s supposed to play along, denying the knowing smiles and claims like Katsuki has. 

“Ah, we’re not…” Shouto clears his throat, his mouth somehow even drier than before, “Katsuki and I aren’t courting.” And the words are ash on his tongue, thick and bitter, forced out of his mouth. His instincts thrash underneath his skin at the denial, clenching tightly in his chest, a painful squeezing noose.

Masaru only smiles at him. 

“Right.” He says, wholly unbelieving, “Why don’t you come to meet my wife?”

Before Shouto can even open his mouth to agree, a loud crash and cursing have them turning around. Katsuki and his mother are grappling over an apron and snapping at each other, and if Shouto didn’t know any better, he might think they were actually arguing. The lack of oppressive anger or distress scents lets him know this is just typical Bakugou family behavior.

“Just let me finish dinner, hag!” Katsuki growls, eyes narrowed to slits. His mother laughs, yanking back at the apron. 

“Trying to butter me up, you little punk? Finishing dinner won’t change the fact that you never called me back! Or that you came home with your Prime Alpha-”

Katsuki looks murderous. “He’s not my Alpha! ”

His mother only rolls her eyes, giving one last yank on the apron and securing it back around her waist. “Yeah, yeah, well, your ‘friend’ is staying in the spare bedroom. Don’t even think about setting him up in your room.”

“ I’ll blast you into this goddamn ceiling you old bat! ”

Masaru clears his throat, and mother and son whip their heads around to look at him. Katsuki’s face is entirely red and adorable, but Shouto can feel a deep unrest lingering in his bones. Is this how it’s going to be all break? Being rightfully assumed of courting only to have to deny it? Would that be their entire relationship ? Shouto thought he didn’t mind being a secret, but maybe he hadn’t considered the logistics enough. 

How much would he have to pretend? How much would he have to tamp his feelings down to make room for Katsuki’s? Would it get to the point that he’s inevitably snuffed out, and if so, what then?

Was he following in his mother's footsteps?

As soon as he thinks it, Shouto sours. Katsuki is nothing like his father.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to our guest, honey?’ Masaru hums, soothing sweet-spicy scent blanketing over the room. The woman turns to look at Shouto, and a broad smile breaks out over her face.

“I’m so sorry, how rude of me!” She wipes her palms on the apron, then extends her hand, “I’m Mitsuki Bakugou; so nice to meet you!”

Shouto forces a smile, reaching out to give the woman a firm handshake. He can feel Katsuki’s eyes on his face, and unease sweeps low in Shouto’s gut. Mitsuki beams at him, saying something about welcoming him to their home, but Shouto can’t hear her. His thoughts are all tangled up, a pounding ache against his skull until one thing seeps through, crystal clear: he doesn’t want to feel like this.

He’s always known love is hard, but at what point does that become too much? At what point do you crumble under its weight? Katsuki is nothing like his father. Their relationship is nothing like the abuse he and his family went through, but Shouto knows himself, and he is like his mother. He’ll bend and bend until he breaks.

It’s Katsuki’s responsibility to decide what he wants, and it’s just as much Shouto’s responsibility to know when he’ll crumble, and to communicate that. 

With introductions out of the way, Mitsuki orders them to put their luggage in the closet and to sit while she finishes dinner. The only person who doesn’t listen is Katsuki because he’s still insisting on helping with the meal. 

The Omega gives Shouto a look that he must not realize he’s wearing, concern in the softness of his eyes and downturn of his lips, before he gets swept up in the chaotic whirlwind of bickering and banging utensils. Shouto’s not quite sure what the look is for or if he gave any visible hint about the sour twist of his thoughts, but it softens him nonetheless. 

Shouto is left alone on the couch with Masaru Bakougou, who looks at him with a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. He thought he just had to worry about Katsuki and his mother, but it seems a certain kind of crazy possesses the whole family.

“Did you grow up in a traditional family, Shouto?” Masaru asks, smiling pleasantly. Shouto blinks.

“Yes, I did,” Shouto says, glancing over Masaru’s shoulder to watch Katsuki yell something and pull an apron over his head. As frustrating as this entire day has been, the view makes his chest warm in gentle waving swoops, affection taking hold of him tight. Katsuki ducks his head to avoid a thrown banana, and Shouto focuses his eyes on the older Omega before him. 

“My father was… very particular about how he wanted his children raised.”

Masaru hums, reaching out for a small round cup on the table. He cradles the ceramic in both hands, remaining perfectly pleasant even with the yelling in the background. 

“I imagine you’re very traditional yourself, then?”

Once again, Shouto blinks, finding himself caught off guard by the line of questioning. Is he traditional? Maybe in the sense that he enjoys traditional Japanese decor and clothing, but he never really listened to the bullshit his father was a fan of spewing. In fact, he listened to his father as little as humanly possible. 

“Ah, my father and I don’t always see eye to eye,” Shouto admits, which makes him nervous for some reason. “While I enjoy aspects of tradition, I don’t quite subscribe to it as he does.”

At this, Masarus's smile widens just a little. He stands and walks a few steps to the TV mantle to grab a framed picture. He hums as he looks at it, pausing to take it in before handing Shouto the frame. Shouto hurries to take it, and as he glances down, he sees a photo of the Bakougu family. Mitsuki and Masuru with their arms around each other, and Katsuki as a child, perched on his mother’s hip. Shouto can’t help but smile.

“Katsuki didn’t grow up very traditionally,” Masaru begins, settling back down on the couch, “Mitsuki and I figured out pretty early that I couldn’t carry children, but we both wanted them. So she carried Katsuki. You can imagine the shock we received, a pregnant Alpha and a barren Omega.”

Shouto looks up at the man, brows furrowed. Partly shock, partly admiration. Everyone always talked about how beneficial a Female Alpha and Male Omega pairing was because both could carry children, but actually seeing a Female Alpha pregnant made people uncomfortable. 

“They’re so much alike; I used to wonder if my genes even put up a fight.” Masaru gives a small laugh, a faraway look in his eyes. “Mitsuki was his hero growing up. Well, her and All Might. We didn’t raise him with any secondary gender in mind, but he took after Mitsuki so much that we just assumed he’d be an Alpha. Guess that’s where my genes finally fought back.” 

Masaru sighs, turning his gaze down to his cup. “I expected him to be crushed, but Katsuki only said that he would be the best hero the world had ever seen. He wanted it even more after he presented.”

Shouto hums, looking back down at the picture. At Katsuki, smiling wide with a missing front tooth, his little fist clinging to his mother's shirt. He imagines a loud, stubborn child, convinced he would be an Alpha and a hero one day, just like his two favorite people. He imagines the bitter adjustment when that assumption is crushed, and the determination, grit, and need to prove that he would be better that came along with it.

Shouto’s chest pulls painfully tight, lodging his heart in his throat. He feels he could choke on it, taste the iron tang of his blood as it beats in his esophagus. This is why he can’t demand an answer from Katsuki, or choose for him. There’s too much hanging in the balance, too much of Katsuki’s hard work and determination to be a Hero. If the Omega chooses Shouto to be a part of his story, it must come from him. 

Masaru blinks, shaking himself out of his reminiscing and looking at Shouto once more. 

“All of this to say: Katsuki is just like his mother. Stubborn, loud, quick to anger.” The older Omega smiles, “Caring and loving in an explosive way.” 

Masaru locks eyes with Shouto then, eyes shining with a determined glint.

“They also share the trait of thinking they have to achieve their goals as quickly and efficiently as possible, even if that means pushing everyone away. They need someone sturdy to remind them they’re not alone. You seem like a patient boy, Shouto, but patience can only get you so far.” 

Shouto takes in the serious set of Masaru’s mouth and allows his words to sink in. Masaru makes it sound so simple, and maybe it is. Katsuki is so stubborn, so determined to achieve his dreams on his own, and Shouto has respected that. He still does. But maybe he shouldn’t be so eager to martyr his feelings, maybe he needs to show Katsuki that they can do this together. He cannot afford to be a ghost within his own relationship.

He has to show up, he has to pursue Katsuki unwaveringly. He has to show Katsuki that he’s willing to wade into the darkness of unknown waters, no matter the consequences.

Masaru sips his tea, smiling gently once more. “Does Katsuki know you two are True Mates?”

At this, Shouto pauses. First, he’s confused. Why wouldn’t Katsuki know? And then it all comes crashing over him, a wave arching high over his head and dragging him under. He holds his breath for a beat, and then lets it all out in a rushing torrent. For some reason he’d never considered the idea that Katsuki simply doesn’t know they are True Mates, not until right this second. Masaru laughs at him, shaking his head in sympathy.

“You’ll also find that Katsuki and his mother are alike in their extreme ability to be dense.” Masaru hums, “Mitsuki didn’t realize she was pregnant for nearly five months. She thought she was just gaining weight.”

Shouto can’t help but laugh, a smile stretching his lips. As their laughter fills the air, Shouto lifts his head, and his eyes find wine red from across the room. Katsuki doesn’t startle at being caught staring, and something about the look on his face has Shouto feeling gentle. Maybe it’s his eyes, their intensity, a red storm of emotion brewing in their depths. Or maybe it’s Katsuki’s mouth, tilted upwards in a slight curve that isn’t pronounced enough to be a smile but is undeniably pleased.  

Maybe, it’s just the fact that Katsuki’s face is open and unguarded for once. That, for a second, he seems to allow himself to want.

“Alright everyone, dinner is ready!” Mitsuki calls, and the look melts away. Shouto mourns the loss.

Shouto spends so much of dinner watching Katsuki and his mother argue back and forth that he can feel his ears ringing by the time it’s finished. He and Katsuki do the dishes together in silence, stealing glances and brushing shoulders. When Katsuki twines their pinkies together underneath the water, growing ruddy along the apples of his cheeks, Shouto takes it for the olive branch that it is.

Katsuki shows him to the guest room, and his own is just across the hall. Shouto expected the Omega to escape as soon as possible, but he doesn’t. He lingers as Shouto unpacks his suitcase, arms crossed over his chest, head leaned on the wooden doorway. 

Shouto pauses his unpacking, lifting his head to lock eyes with the Omega. He looks exhausted, watching Shouto with sleepy eyes and a pouty frown. Shouto can’t resist the gravitational pull that brings him across the room, getting close enough that the Omega has to tilt his face up just so to keep their eyes locked. The only thing stopping him is the hand Katsuki pushes against his chest, keeping him half an arm's length away. 

Shouto finds himself exhausted, too. So much happened today, and it's only worked to obliterate the sloppy equilibrium they’d established while in school. For some reason Katsuki’s hometown has made it impossible for Katsuki to run away, to hide. From the foreigner Omega on the train to Katsuki’s very own parents. There’s so much to be said between them, so much that Shouto needs to make clear.

“My mother goes all out for Christmas dinner, so be ready to help with the cooking on Thursday.” Katsuki grunts, and his firm hand on Shouto’s chest starts falling limp, pale fingers playing with the threads of his sweater. Shouto nods in agreement despite knowing his best ability in the kitchen is boiling water. It's not some weird Alpha thing, he’s just never had to learn. When Fuyumi wasn’t cooking, there was a maid to do it.

Reaching out, Shouto cups Katsuki’s cheek in his hand. Daring to pursue, daring to want out in the open, for Katsuki and anyone who's looking to see. He is going to court this Omega, and his Alpha instincts roar in agreement. 

Katsuki doesn’t push him away, or move to distance them. He just frowns harder, curling his hand into a fist against Shouto’s chest. 

“My parents are downstairs, Shouto.” The Omega says, voice low and tired.

Shouto nods, “I know.” He murmurs, stroking his thumb over a high arching cheekbone. That makes Katsuki glare, eyebrows all furrowed up in annoyance, but he doesn’t move away. Looking at him like this, with his pouting lips and the glare he can never keep sharp enough to actually scare Shouto away, all of Shouto’s frustrations drain from his body. 

It feels simple like this. Like he might have the chance to get that look for the rest of his life.

“Goodnight, Katsuki.”

He really does frown then; it pulls heavily at the corner of his mouth. Before Shouto can stop himself, he’s kissing it away, soft, simple presses of his lips that linger and drag with a slight twinge of wetness for the glide. He feels Katsuki’s hand tightening in his sweater, pressing close, molding into him. He tilts his head, chasing the sweet scent of his Omega, the taste of his skin, the soft plushness of his lips. It makes his chest raw with affection. 

“You’re seriously going to sleep in the guest room?” Katsuki murmurs against his mouth, cute and pouty, and god, Shouto is so gone for him. 

“I think your mother would skin me alive if I didn’t.” Shouto hums, his lips threatening to pull into a smile when Katsuki glares at the statement. He huffs a sigh and looks up at Shouto, fingers tapping against his chest.

Shouto isn’t cocky about their relationship. He can’t possibly be, not when he’s got his hand out, just hoping Katsuki will take it. But he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that wants to be invited to Katsuki’s room. They’ve been sharing a bed for a week, and Katsuki looks at him like he wants to ask, like he doesn’t like the idea of sleeping alone as much as Shouto.

Shouto could make it easy for him. Ask to stay in his room or sneak into his bed in the middle of the night, absolve Katsuki from having to decide at all. But he won’t, not this time. He won’t make it so easy.

They lapse into a thick silence, and Shouto traces his eyes over the sharp cupid bow of Katsuki’s lips, the upturn of his nose, and the softness of his skin. Katsuki clears his throat, and Shouto can’t even decipher what it means before the Omega leans up and kisses the corner of Shouto’s mouth. He’s quick about it, growing warm along his cheeks for the gesture, before stepping out of Shouto’s arms. 

“Goodnight, Shouto.”

“Goodnight, Katsuki.”

Shouto watches him leave, deflating as he disappears into his room without a trace. Katsuki is difficult. He always has been, and that’s no different now. No less frustrating. 

Shouto unpacks the rest of his clothes, closes them in a wooden dresser, and showers the day off his skin. He sits under the steaming water longer than he should, letting it soak through his hair and run down his face. His body feels bone tired, a mix of traveling and emotional exhaustion. 

He wants to pursue Katsuki properly, take Masaru's advice, and get Katsuki to choose him. He wants, and he wants, and he wants. He wanted his mother home even after she scarred him, he wanted his father's adoration, he wanted his brother to be redeemable. He has always wanted things he couldn’t have. 

Maybe it's the exhaustion of the day, or the reality of the situation finally crashing onto him, but Shouto is tired of wanting.

Right now, he wants to go to bed. 

So he does. Alone, with wet hair and longing thick in his bones.

The week crawls by, and time softens the tension between them. The Bakugous are rowdy people, and Shouto quickly grows used to the routine of being awoken by some sort of crash or bang coming from downstairs. 

With school and work on break for the holiday, he and Katsuki don’t have many opportunities to be alone, though Shouto expected as much. Katsuki elects to spend a lot of time with his parents, and for some reason it never really connected with Shouto that the Omega is close to them, not until he sees it firsthand. Maybe it’s his experience, or lack thereof, with proper adult figures, but it’s nice.

For all their bickering, Katsuki and Mitsiki clearly love one another. They cook together every night while Masaru sips his tea in the living room, tuning out their bickering with his nose in a book. 

The second night, Shouto awkwardly shuffled around and tried his best not to get in the way of their routine. He was happy to be a silent observer, but that doesn’t seem to fly in the Bakugou household. They put him to work, doing the prep, setting the table, or using him as a kitchen appliance. (The third night, while every burner on the stove was occupied, Shouto sat with a pot on his left hand for nearly an hour.)

It’s nice. Homey. It’s not that Shouto doesn’t understand the concept of a close-knit family, Fuyumi did her best and was the glue after things went to shit, but it’s still a bit jarring. Being in an environment where the bickering is just that, light-hearted nothingness, not a screaming match or a threat, it’s really really lovely.

It’s complicated by Katsuki’s inability to act like they’re just friends despite the spectacle he’d made declaring it. Sometimes, he’ll stand too close, his voice will come out too soft, or he’ll stare when he thinks no one is looking. 

One night, Shouto almost chopped his finger off while cutting onions, and Katsuki flew into a concerned rage. He held Shouto’s hand underneath the kitchen faucet for far too long, glaring and grumbling about how stupid Shouto was, not letting him go until he was all patched up. It wasn’t a deep cut; Shouto could’ve slapped a bandaid on it and been fine, but Katsuki was on a mission. Who was Shouto to stop him?

The knowing, smug looks they kept getting from Mitsuki and Masaru were almost embarrassing, but only because Katsuki never seemed to catch them. Or he was ignoring their implications, either way, that left it up to Shouto to lie. To put some distance between them, which he has found himself to be incredibly bad at.

So bad that one night, after he and Katsuki had done the dishes together and Shouto was sure he’d gotten away with their proximity (bumping shoulders and brushing fingers, Shouto staring at Katsuki’s profile as they, admittedly, flirted back and forth) Masaru pulled him aside to ask what courting gift he would present Katsuki with, and when.

Shouto could only blink stupidly and deny their involvement, again, until Masaru stopped pestering him with suggestions. (“He’ll never admit it, but Katsuki loves jewelry. Really, earrings or a necklace would be the perfect start!”)

He didn’t tell Katsuki about any of it. Mostly because the Omega was finally content in his family home, and Shouto didn’t want to ruin that. 

So, Shouto follows the rules. Both the ones Mitsuki put in place, sleeping in the guest room every night, and the invisible ones Katsuki established about their relationship. 

It’s a little bit exhausting, like walking an emotional tightrope with the winds whipping and threatening to throw him off balance, but there’s nothing to be done about it. At least, nothing Shouto can do about it. 

He wants to take Masaru’s advice, but he’s unsure of how to go about doing it. It’s a tennis match he’s playing with himself: pursue, don’t pursue, lie, don’t lie, want, don’t want. Stuff it all down until he’s choking.

Thursday morning, Shouto wakes up in the Bakugou household at seven A.M with crashing pots and pans coming from downstairs and a knock on his door. 

He’s bleary, too, barely awake and seeing double when he stumbles out of bed. He’s been sleeping horribly. There’s nothing wrong with the guest room, the bed is nice, and the sheets are soft, but he’d grown so used to sleeping with his nose in Katsuki’s scent gland that sleeping alone again has been a little difficult.

His pyjama shirt is half unbuttoned, and as he stumbles towards the door, he finds that his pants are somehow on backwards too. They’re skewed on his hips and pulling in places they really shouldn’t, but the fabric is soft enough that Shouto isn’t uncomfortable in his half-awake state. 

When he opens his door, Katsuki is on the other side. Shouto has to blink to get his eyes to focus on the mess of blonde hair and red eyes. He must’ve just gotten up because the droop of sleep softens his sharp edges. 

He’s normally up way before Shouto, either already downstairs or yelling up the stairs for Shouto to ‘wake his sorry ass up’ to run errands with him and his parents. So, for a moment, Shouto can only blink stupidly. 

Without a word, Katsuki pushes into the room. He’s wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and nothing else, the pale skin of his chest and neck on full display. All that skin disappears underneath the covers of Shouto’s blankets as the Omega crawls into his bed without so much as a ‘good morning.’ 

Shouto blinks, stares at the spot Katsuki used to be and where he’s curled up in the bed, then closes the door as the spicy-sweet scent of him hits Shouto right in his face. It’s all muddled, thick with sleep and soothing contentness. It’s alluring, just like every aspect of Katsuki is to him, and Shouto finds himself crawling into bed with a single-minded focus. 

Katsuki doesn’t say a word as Shouto wraps his arms around him, nosing into the crook of his neck and taking deep lingering breaths of his scent. Sometimes Katsuki gets like this, when he’s wants something but loathed to actually acknowledge it. 

And as dense as Shouto can be, he knows what this means. He is missed, or at least he hasn’t been the only one struggling to sleep.

So he draws Katsuki close to his chest, wrinkling his nose a little as those blonde hairs tickle his nose. It’s toasty underneath the blankets, mostly Shouto’s fault. He can feel his left side heating up at all the contact, but Katsuki only shimmies closer and huffs out a sigh.

“You went to bed with your hair wet,” Katsuki grumbles, and Shouto can only grunt his response, trailing his fingers over the hard muscles of Katsuki’s stomach. He showered the night before and couldn’t be bothered to brush his hair out. It’s getting too long for his liking now, but he’s too comfortable to form the words needed to communicate that properly.

“It looks horrible.” Katsuki continues to grumble, and Shouto just nods sleepily into his neck. He’s sure it does. His hair is smooth and pretty silky but tangles quickly and can be a pain to brush out. 

Katsuki shifts in his arms, turning so they’re chest to chest, and a pale leg is thrown over his hip as Katsuki adjusts. Before Shouto can protest, there are fingers in his hair, combing through the tangles.

Shouto stares, and Katsuki looks right back, looking the softest Shouto has ever seen him. Unguarded in this cute, huffy way, annoyed affectionately. The expression makes Shouto’s chest squeeze tight, and he kisses him. Because he’s been sleeping horribly, and Katsuki is here now running his fingers through his hair like he has too, and he smells good. Like home. 

Katsuki kisses him back. Sighs into it like he really has missed it. He gently combs his fingers through Shouto’s hair, and his skin flushes hot. Shouto savors the feel and taste of his lips and presses his hands to the small of the Omega’s back as he licks into his mouth, tasting the staleness of sleep off his tongue. 

And it should be gross. Maybe it is, kissing with morning breath, but honestly, Katsuki could look at him the wrong way, and Shouto would be hard in his pants in ten seconds flat. It must be the whole True Mates thing. As much as Shouto knows about it, he’s still trying to navigate its effects. Most of the time, that includes wanting to jump Katsuki any chance he gets.

Katsuki, for better or worse, makes Shouto feel out of control. It isn’t that Shouto is used to getting what he wants. Sure, he grew up wealthy, but he was never a spoiled brat. He couldn’t be. His father trained him to be disciplined, and it only got worse after the incident with his mother. 

But Katsuki has a way of making him feel ravenous. Greedy. It doesn’t help that it’s the first time since Sunday that they’ve been able to touch like this, to kiss and breathe in one another's scent this close.

So Shouto doesn’t take it for granted. He makes it count. He cups the back of Katsuki’s head and kisses him firmly until the Omega makes little noises against his mouth. Shouto swallows down his soft, shaky sighs, gently squeezing the back of the Omega’s neck to feel him go boneless against Shouto’s body. 

“Shouto,” Katsuki mutters, those fingers fisting in his hair as Katsuki hauls himself closer. “We shouldn’t.”

Shouto’s brain barely registers the mixed signals because their lips are connecting again a moment later. Really, it isn’t his fault. Katsuki is just as greedy as him and is the one who initiates it. Shouto holds him tight, his hand moving back down to clutch the Omega’s waist, growing increasingly hard in his backward pajama pants. 

“We shouldn’t?” Shouto asks dumbly, voice nothing but a murmur against Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki only nods, but he doesn’t make any move to pull himself away, and Shouto is a weak, weak Alpha, so he doesn’t either.

“Do you think you can be quiet?” Shouto asks because things only seem to be getting more intense, and he is itching to get his mouth on the Omega. That seems to be the wrong thing to say, though, because Katsuki gets stiff and shakes his head like he’s been snapped back into reality.

“My parents,” Katsuki grunts against his mouth, shoving at Shouto’s chest, “Are downstairs, you horny asshole.”

Shouto resists the urge to huff and lets himself get pushed away. He takes in his Omega's glare, flushed cheeks, and puffy pink lips.

“You’re horny too,” Shouto says plainly, because he’s scent-drunk and a little stupid in the morning. Katsuki glares daggers at him.

“What makes you think that?” Katsuki snaps, as if Shouto can’t smell that he’s wet. 

Shouto tilts his head, thumbing at Katsuki’s hipbone. He can’t help but smile, drawn back in by the pout and glare even as those red eyes become cutting, warning him away. Instead, Shouto kisses Katsuki’s pouting lips.

“You’re a bad liar, Katsuki.” Shouto hums, not to be judgmental, just as a statement of fact. He’s found that Katsuki lies all the time. To Shouto, to his friends, to himself.

Katsuki glares at him some more, shoving him away with aggressive pushes.

 “Shut up. Get your lazy ass out of bed. That old hag will lose it if we’re not downstairs in ten minutes.”

Katsuki doesn’t leave much room for argument, shoving until Shouto nearly falls out of bed. He catches himself before he does, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and standing. 

Katsuki isn’t far behind him, throwing the covers from his body with a huffy pout. It’s hard not to smile, especially when Katsuki is flushed from his chest all the way up his neck.

“You’re the one who barged into my room.” Shouto points out, combing his fingers through the tangles in his hair as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“It’s my goddamn house, I can barge in anywhere I want.” Katsuki snaps, leaning against the bathroom doorway. Shouto turns the knobs on the sink until the water is a warm rushing stream, humming gently.

“Sure,” he placates, purposefully blasé, leaning down to splash the water over his face, willing his erection away, “But aren’t I a guest? That’s poor hosting skills, Katsuki.”

“Poor hosting skills for a shitty guest.” Katsuki grouses. Shouto shakes his head, hiding his smile behind the towel he uses to wipe his face clean of water. 

“I’ve been an exceptional guest.”

“You’ve been an asshole.”

Shouto tilts his head, eyebrow quirked as he watches Katsuki through the mirror. Katsuki is very good at masking what he actually feels. He’s a master in misdirection, but Shouto knows his patterns. He’s cranky, but not because he’s genuinely angry. 

Going from sleepy kisses to this snappy, pouty thing just confirms Shouto’s suspicions. He really was missed, more than Katsuki probably wants to admit.

If they were back at school sneaking around the dorms, Shouto would take this information and do nothing about it. But Masaru’s advice plays in his head, that gentle but firm advice, ‘Your patience can only get you so far.’ 

Maybe it’s those words or Shouto’s own dwindling wick that prompts his response. 

“What is it, Katsuki?” Shouto asks, voice easy, slick as honey. “Are you upset I haven’t snuck into your bed? That you had to come and do it yourself?”

Katsuki flushes bright red, and Shouto can’t fight the smug tilt of his lips. 

Ding Ding Ding.

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki yells up the stairs, her voice booming, “Get your ass down here!”

Katsuki shoots him a blazing glare before stomping out with a loud yell, “I’m coming, you hag!”

Shouto showers and dresses in a pair of black slacks and a blue sweater for the day, combing over their conversation. A part of him is nervous, but another part of him is thrilled to have said it. 

It was like the cap he’d been keeping on himself, his careful control, had finally bubbled over. The feeling thrums through his veins, shaking him up like a soda can until he’s fizzling and popping with it.

By the time Shouto makes it downstairs, the clashing and clanging of pots has taken up the entire house. How two people manage to make so much noise is a mystery to Shouto, but he takes his spot at the kitchen island anyway. Katsuki and Mitsuki bicker over the batter for the chicken as Masaru slides him a cup of tea, shaking his head in exasperation as mother and son start wrestling with a bowl. 

“Do they ever have actual conversations?” Shouto asks, hiding his smile behind his glass. Masaru shakes his head, giving an irritated look. 

“This is them having a normal conversation, Shouto. You’d better get used to it.”

And Masaru is right. The rest of the morning, the volume doesn’t lessen even as Katsuki and Mitsuki find their rhythm. Eventually, the yelling and demands spread to he and Masaru. 

“Are you gonna keep sitting there?” The younger Omega snaps, shoving a cutting board, knife, and vegetables across the kitchen island, “Chop this shit up or get out of my kitchen.”

“ Your kitchen?” Mitsuki laughs, and just like that, the two are bickering again.

Masaru raises his teacup in surrender, moving to sit in the living room, and Shouto does as he’s told with little resistance. In part because he doesn’t mind helping, but mainly because Katsuki’s got this crazy look in his eyes like he might actually haul Shouto out. 

Rolling his sleeves up, Shouto takes his hair tie from his wrist and pulls red and white strands from his face, looping his hair through the black band in a loose ponytail. He grabs the knife and the nearest vegetable, a carrot, and carefully chops it into thick chunks. 

He’s left to cut vegetables in relative peace, or as much peace as can be had while sharing a kitchen with Mitsuki and Katsuki. It’s okay, though; it’s comfortable.

Maybe he should feel like an outsider, the only person in the room with a scent that doesn't fit within the family pack. New. But he doesn’t. He fits with Katsuki, and maybe one day, they’ll have the chance to make their own family pack and have their distinctive scent to find comfort in.

 It’s nice watching Katsuki move around the kitchen like it’s simply an extension of his hand. Shouto admires it. Maybe if he asks, Katsuki will teach him a few things.

 If Shouto tries hard enough, he can imagine the Omega with him in the kitchen at the Todoroki Estate. The image is fleeting because Katsuki is warm, and his kitchen is full of orange lighting and exposed wood. The Todoroki Estate is anything but warm, stainless steel and grey. 

Shouto frowns, eyebrows furrowed as he slices through the last carrot. It’s easy for him to imagine being with Katsuki. It’s more challenging to imagine Katsuki with aspects of his life that make him Todoroki Shouto, not just Shouto. 

Namely the estate and his father. Shouto has never cared for either, and while it’ll be easy to leave the estate behind, Enji Todoroki is another problem altogether. 

Looking up, Shouto watches as Katsuki furiously whips up eggs for the potato salad. Right now, Enji is the least of Shouto’s problems, especially when he’s got an oblivious True Mate. He’ll deal with his father when the time comes.

Katsuki looks up and zeros in on him with a glare. Shouto blinks back into himself, leaning from the counter as the Omega stomps over to him with an empty bowl and annoyance on his face. 

“Why the fuck are these chunks so big? You want us to choke on the damn soup?” Katsuki grumbles, grabbing the knife from Shouto with extreme prejudice. He begins chopping the carrots into smaller pieces, loading them into the empty bowl as he goes. 

“You never said how you wanted them cut.” Shouto hums, leaning his cheek on his palm as he watches Katsuki work, knife slicing quick, precise lines through the vegetable. 

“Cream stew doesn’t have big ass pieces of carrot, Shouto.” Katsuki grunts, rolling his eyes. 

Shouto shrugs, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had it. We always ordered out for Christmas.”

Katsuki pauses. “But your sister is a great cook.”

“Yeah,” Shouto nods, “She is. Dad preferred KFC for Christmas dinner, though.”

Katsuki nods, and Shouto watches those blonde eyebrows pinch together, that precise chopping speeding up with rhythmic thunks on the board. “You’re still not allowed to be useless. Get the other cutting board and those onions.”

And the same bubbly, fizzy feeling from earlier possesses Shouto.

“Yes, Omega,” He hums, not bothering to hide the affection in his voice as he stands up to do as he’s told. Maybe that’s what the fizzy feeling is, his affection not being beaten down and hidden. He thinks he might’ve lost the ability to store it away.

Katsuki’s head snaps up, looking at him all wide-eyed with surprise and the lingering sparks of anger.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“No flirting in my kitchen.” Mitsuki huffs, pointing her whisk at Shouto with a barely restrained smile. Katsuki balks and Shouto clears his throat to prevent his smile. He settles next to Katsuki with the onions and a new cutting board. 

“I’ll try to rein it in, Bakugouu-san.”

Mitsuki waves him off, “I told you, call me Mitsuki.”

“I’ll blow this whole goddamn kitchen up, and then no one will have Christmas dinner.” Katsuki snaps. Mitsuki scoffs and turns back around to the frying chicken. Shouto focuses on the onions, peeling and cutting them into small pieces. 

Katsuki glares daggers at him, Shouto can feel the look burning into his skin. His scent is hot, spiced, and spikey with his anger. Shouto blinks through the sting in his eyes as he chops the onion, only looking at Katsuki as he slides the finished pieces into the bowl. Those red eyes stare at him, unwavering and hot with annoyance. 

Shouto smiles. 

In the dorms, this would’ve been different. Katsuki would’ve had his head, and Shouto would’ve folded. Now, he’s going to take Masaru’s words seriously. No more tennis matches, no more shoving everything down and pretending it doesn’t exist. Shouto will pursue him fully; if Katsuki doesn’t like that, he can end it. No more hiding, no more sneaking around. Shouto is done with it. 

“Is something the matter, Katsuki?” Shouto asks with a tilt of his head.

“What the fuck are you on?” Katsuki glares, pointing with his knife. 

Shouto blinks. “Nothing.” 

Katsuki glares at him harder, his nose all scrunched and twitching.

 It’s cute.

Eventually, Shouto outlives his usefulness and gets kicked out of the kitchen. He and Masaru spend their time chatting in the living room while dinner is being finished, and Shouto forms a plan.

Step one: Clue Katsuki in on the True Mates thing. As delicate as the situation is, Shouto doesn’t know how subtle he can be with the information. For him, it’s such a roaring truth he’s honestly a little baffled that Katsuki hasn’t figured it out himself. 

Maybe Katsuki doesn’t believe in True Mates. Some people don’t; they would rather use the scientific explanation. The truth is your secondary gender has the ability to recognize any number of people as matches, some stronger than others. But Shouto believes Katsuki is the one, the strongest match he’ll ever get. 

The question is whether or not Katsuki will feel the same, but Shouto will deal with that possibility when the time comes. There has always been the looming dread that Katsuki will decide he isn’t worth it, and this new worry is just another to add to the list.

Step Two: A gift. Shouto will need one to start their official courting. Usually the first gift is extravagant. Technically, the All Might figure Shouto gave Katsuki at the arcade a few weeks ago can count as the start, but Shouto wants to do better. Wants to catch Katsuki’s eye.

Though, Katsuki might refuse the courting even if he accepts that they are True Mates. But, once again, that’s something to deal with when the time comes. Making their courting official is a bit of a risk for Shouto, what with how flighty Katsuki can be, but it’ll help to show how serious Shouto is about them.

And… that’s it, that’s the whole plan. 

Shouto blinks. Maybe it’s not as much of an intricate idea as he thought it up to be, but he’ll put his best foot forward regardless. He can’t make Katsuki choose him, but he can present himself as a damn desirable option.

“Shit!” Mitsuki curses from the kitchen, and Shouto and Masaru look up from the quiet conversation they’d been having to the commotion. 

“Shit shit shit!”

“What did you screw up this time, old lady?” Katsuki grunts, looking up from the pot of cream stew he’s been working on. Shouto doesn’t think he’s moved from the spot since he was shooed out of the kitchen, watching valiantly over the pot, adding spices, and adjusting the heat when necessary. 

“I forgot about the pizza!” Mitsuki panics, slapping her hand over her forehead. She looks a little ridiculous; her apron is askew, and she’s got oil plastered all over the front of it from frying the chicken. “I ordered it this morning, but then we started cooking, and I lost track of time.”

Shouto hums, standing up from the couch. Pizza, cream stew, and fried chicken are about as traditional as a Japanese Christmas dinner can get. Funny, considering how untraditional the Bakugous are.

“I can go get it.” Shouto offers. It makes the most sense. Katsuki and his mother are cooking, and the snow has begun to whip up outside. Besides, despite being put to work, he still feels like he needs to help somehow, and this is the perfect opportunity to do so. 

“Would you?” Mitsuki asks, looking at him with big, wide eyes. Shouto nods, already moving to get his shoes from the front door. 

“Of course, it’s the least I can do.” Shouto hums, and it’s true. They’ve welcomed him into their home without notice and cooked an extravagant meal; Shouto has no problem helping in any way he can.

Mitsuki chews her lip for a moment, and Shouto is about to open his mouth to insist it’s perfectly fine when she returns to her frying chicken.

“You can take Katsuki with you!” She chirps. 

Katsuki whips his head towards her, scowling heavily. 

“I’m still cooking the stew, or did you forget that too?”

Mitsuki glares at him, pointing with her tongs. “Your father can finish it.”

“He doesn’t make it right.” Katsuki insists.

“Shouto doesn’t know the address of the pizza shop, you brat.”

“How the hell is that my problem? Write it down or some shit.”

Mitsuki snaps the tongs at the stubborn Omega, and suddenly, the air is filled with the bitter scent of Alpha pheromones. It isn’t anything particularly bad or overbearing. It’s gentler. The scent of a parent chastising their child. 

“You bring your boyfriend here without notice, you go with him to pick up the pizza you ingrate.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my anything ,”

Ouch.

Shouto frowns and watches Katsuki screw his lip up in a snarl before he rips his apron off and stomps out of the kitchen. Shouto can’t fully possess what's going on until they’re walking out into the snow, Katsuki all bundled up in his coat, hat and snowboots, and Shouto in his sweater.

Katsuki storms ahead, and he’s angry. Really angry, not pretending to be. Shouto can smell it in his scent, all smokey irritation and crackling spice. 

Katsuki refuses to look at him. He glares straight ahead even as Shouto walks beside him, hands stuffed in his pockets, broodingly silent. 

And, for once, Shouto knows why he’s so mad. He’s broken their invisible rules. 

“You’re angry.” Shouto sighs, warming up his left side to combat the snowy winds. Katsuki scoffs, not sparing him a glance.

“Fucking inspector gadget over here.”

Shouto frowns. He doesn’t know who that is, but it doesn’t sound great. 

They trudge on, and their silence is more frigid than the snow. Katsuki is shivering, but continuing to storm on. He stomps forward with the single-minded determination to ignore Shouto the entire way. It would be more upsetting than it is if he wasn’t sinking shin-deep into the building snow with each step.

“Katsuki,” Shouto sighs out, because the Omega is shivering, and this is a bit ridiculous, “Slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself.

“I’ll be just fucking fine.” Katsuki spits. Shouto shakes his head, letting all the air rush out of his nose in a heavy sigh. He reaches out to grab Katsuki’s hand to get him to slow down, heating his palm to warm those pale, frozen fingers. 

This, Katsuki seems receptive to. Or maybe he’s just cold and can’t resist the heat Shouto’s releasing. Either way, he doesn’t pull away. He only shoots Shouto a small glance before swaying close, the puffer of his jacket brushing against Shouto’s sweater.

They make it to the pizza shop like that, hand in hand with Katsuki leeching off his body heat, and the charged silence becomes easier. 

Lately it’s much easier to calm the Omega down. Shouto isn’t sure if that’s a result of him, their true mate bond, or a bit of both. He likes the idea that Katsuki is softening to him, though. Less eager to chop his head off and more interested in what Shouto has to say.

It makes him feel like he might actually have a chance.

They’re hit with a blast of warm air and the yeasty smell of dough when they walk into the shop. It’s crowded, with groups of people in line and standing off to the side, barely any room to move around. 

“Jesus Christ, did everyone forget pizza?” Katsuki grumbles, gripping Shouto’s hand harder and pushing through the crowd. Shouto follows behind him, pressing in as closely as people talk and shift around them. 

They make it up to the counter, and Shouto moves his hand to Katsuki’s side, hanging on tight to the Omega as he flags down a worker, yelling over the noise.

“I’m picking up for Mitsuki Bakugou,” Katsuki shouts.

“You were supposed to pick it up hours ago; we’ll have to make you a new one. Is that alright?” The cashier asks, and she looks so panicked that Shouto feels bad for her. Working the holidays must be horrible.

 He can feel Katsuki huff, but he must notice the state the woman is in as well because he waves away her concern.

“We can wait.” He grunts.

“Great! Thank you.” 

They shuffle out of the way, but there isn’t room to move more than a few steps. Shouto ends up pressed against the wall a few inches away from the ordering counter with Katsuki against him, back to chest. Shouto slips his hands down to grip Katsuki’s torso, keeping him close, and Katsuki leans into him, crossing his arm with a huffy sigh.

“I can’t believe that old hag forgot about the pizza. Now we’re going to be here all goddamn night.” Katsuki complains, his scent spiking, spicy with irritation.

“And you were going to make me go alone.” Shouto says, fighting the urge to smile, “I would’ve been waiting in this place all night.”

Katsuki snorts, muscles relaxing as he leans his head back against Shouto's shoulder. 

“Shut up. I’m still mad at you.”

“I figured.” Shouto drones, leaning his head to the side to look at the Omega. “You never told me why.”

“You fucking know why.”

Shouto sighs. He does, but that’s not how an open dialogue works. He can’t go around assuming, even if he’s right. Katsuki actually needs to speak to him.

“Why are you angry with me, Katsuki? And what can I do to fix it?”

Katsuki stares at him, a frown tugging on those pink lips. He looks like he’s deciding if Shouto means it, but Shouto doesn’t know how to be any more transparent and honest than he already is. He just wants to make Katsuki happy. 

Something in Shouto’s face must reveal how much he means it; he’s sure he looks a bit like a lovesick idiot because Katsuki’s scent sweetens. The Omega sighs, turning his face to press his nose to Shouto’s throat, and Shouto’s heart picks up in his chest, thunking obnoxiously fast against his ribcage. 

Here Katsuki Bakugou is, in a crowded place with him, being affectionate. Shouto was expecting a fight, maybe a bit of bickering at least, but not this. This feels like a gift. 

Realistically, he knows Katsuki likes him, at least a little bit. He wouldn’t have continued to entertain Shouto if he didn’t. But this easy affection, out in the open, feels hard-fought and hard-won.

Again, Katsuki sighs. He grumbles, “It’s just…”

“Katsuki? Katsuki Bakugou, is that you?”

Shouto blinks, lifting his head to the source of the voice. Katsuki shifts, too, moving his head from Shouto’s shoulder, then going rigid in his grasp. In front of them are two boys their age. They’re tall; the tallest has a fading blue dye job and maybe an inch or so on Shouto, and the other has brown hair and a small, pinched mouth.

“Kei, Akio.” Katsuki grunts, nodding his head and stepping away from Shouto just a bit. Not far enough to actually distance himself, Shouto can still feel the heat of his back, but enough for Shouto to get the hint and drop his hands from around him.

The tallest breaks out in a big smile, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“We thought it was you, man. You home for the holidays?” Kei asks, and Shouto watches as his gaze flickers between Katsuki and him. For a moment they lock eyes, but he doesn’t look long, hands jingling in his pockets, brown eyes shooting back to Katsuki.

Katsuki nods, tapping his foot impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, you know Mitsuki would have a stroke if I didn’t come home.”

The boys laugh, and they delve into casual conversation, catching up on each other's lives. They must be childhood friends, Shouto realizes. That makes him relax a little, but it isn’t lost on him that Katsuki’s old friends are both Alphas. 

Shouto isn’t the possessive type. Or, at least, he doesn’t think he is. Katsuki had a life before him and will continue to have a life during him. He’s not uncomfortable with that thought. If he were, he’d have a problem with Katsuki being a hero. But he wants to cheer Katsuki on. He wants to be there to watch him become number one. So he knows the prickly feeling churning in his chest, overheating him like a plate spent too long in the microwave, is unusual of him. 

The feeling catches him off guard as much as it sets him on edge, and he watches the two Alphas in front of them warily. They seem to be watching him right back, eyes darting away as Shouto holds their gaze. They’re curious. Shouto can smell it on them, but he won’t bud in on the conversation. If Katsuki wants to introduce him, he will.

 But as what, friend or boyfriend, Shouto isn’t sure.

The answer should be easy. They saw how they were standing, the closeness. There isn’t much explanation for that.

Nothing with Katsuki is ever easy, though.

“Are you going to be here for The New Year?” The one with the brown hair asks. He’s staring at Katsuki intently, mouth set. A blush is already creeping up his neck. Shouto feels his face smooth over at the sight of it.

“Yeah, we don’t have to be back until that Monday, so I’ll be here all week,” Katsuki shrugs. The boy, Akio, shifts on his feet. He glances between them, quick and calculating. Shouto doesn’t like him. Doesn’t like the way he seems to unconsciously sway closer to Katsuki, doesn’t like the look in his eyes, lingering for too long.

“We should hang out, maybe.”

“Yeah, for sure, we can all go see the shrine or some bullshit.” Katsuki offers, completely oblivious. The prickling Shouto was feeling picks up, itching along his skin and clawing up his throat. He fights back the urge to snarl like some knothead asshole, swallowing the instinct and keeping it trapped in his esophagus. 

Akio frowns and opens his mouth to say more, but Kei speaks before he can form the words.

“You’re Shouto, right? Shouto Todoroki?”

Shouto blinks, not having expected to be addressed. His eyes flicker over to Kei, who looks at him like an overexcited puppy. All Shouto can do is nod dumbly.  

“Sorry, sorry, I just recognized you from… well…”

Shouto raises an eyebrow. “From when my brother went crazy on national television?”

Katsuki snorts a laugh, and Kei sheepishly rubs his head.

“I almost died that day, and this jackass is who you remember?” Katsuki snarks. Kei sputters, and Shouto can’t help the smile that twitches at his lips.

“Oh, so you guys are just classmates then?” Akio asks, brightening up. Shouto tilts his head. Just . 

“We’re classmates,” Katsuki says, but something in his voice is weird, strained, maybe. 

“Pick-up for Bakugou!” The woman from the counter calls, and Shouto deflates. Finally, they can get out of here. 

“Oh, well, we won’t hold you guys for too long,” Kei says, “It was nice to meet you, Shouto, and Katsuki; we really gotta hang before you go back!”

“Yeah, yeah, you guys let me know.” Katsuki agrees. Shouto reaches out to grab his hand, eager to get them moving, but Akio intercepts. He steps forward, too close to Katsuki for comfort, flaring up the prickly feeling Shouto thought he had buried. It roars in his chest now, unrestrained and unchecked, until Shouto can smell his scent going sour, the thick, oppressive heat of an unbearable summer day. Territorial. 

He watches Akio hesitate, eyes flickering from Shouto back to Katsuki before he’s stuttering out,

“We should really hang out, Katsuki.”

Katsuki blinks at him, looking at the Alpha like he’s particularly stupid.

“Open your goddamn ears, Akio, I said we should all go to the shrine already-”

“No.” Akio shakes his head, “I mean… just me and you. If you don’t already have plans.”

Shock spreads over Katsuki’s face, and Shouto is hit with a nasty, clawing feeling. All at once he remembers the feeling of Katsuki in his arms, in his bed, smelling sweet because of him.

 He remembers Katsuki’s smile and his content purrs, their lazy kisses shared in the safety of their dorm. His laugh, a guttural thing when it’s genuine, his stubborn and competitive streak. The irresistible scent of him, smoked cherries and slow rolling caramel, a warm campfire trapped underneath their blankets, wandering hands, and sweet sighs. 

Shouto remembers all of this in quick, vivid clarity, and that prickly feeling claws its way out of his throat. It has him moving with swift, sure steps, slinging his arm around Katsuki’s waist and hauling him away from Akio and his too-closeness.

“He has plans.” Shouto bites out, carefully smoothing his face of any emotion, a practiced frosty mask. Akio flinches backwards, and Shouto’s instincts rage in his chest, snarling biting things that demand he establish his dominance over the Alpha who would dare to even look at his mate.

Katsuki is stiff in his hold, but Shouto can barely register it. His head is cloudy with instincts, adrenaline rushing hot through his blood. He glances down at Katsuki, who is already glaring at him, scent hot with anger. 

“We’re leaving now,” Shouto says, turning Katsuki away from his friends.

“Um, it was nice to meet you!” Kei calls. Shouto only gives him a nod in response, grabbing the pizza box with one hand and steering Katsuki out of the shop with the other. They’re given a wide berth on their way out, and only when they breach the cold winter air does Shouto finally begin to feel sane again.

Katsuki doesn’t give him long, though. They make it two steps from the store, and then the Omega shoves him away, baring his fangs as his scent breaks out into a fiery flame of anger, burnt sugar, and bitter charred cherries.

“Get the fuck off of me.” Katsuki seethes as Shouto stumbles, hands flying out to make sure he doesn’t drop the pizza.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki spits before Shouto fully gathers his footing, much less his thoughts. 

“ This. This is what I’m fucking talking about. You’ve been acting fucking crazy, talking like that in front of my family, and now posturing in the goddamn pizza store? Are you fucking insane?” 

Katsuki balls his hands up in fists, small explosions sparking from his palms. He’s staring like he might be able to cut Shouto down with his eyes alone.

Maybe any other time, Shouto would be able to take the yelling, but the adrenaline hasn’t entirely faded, and he’s tired. 

“He was flirting with you.” Shouto grunts, gripping the pizza box harder and trudging past Katsuki, keeping the food warm with his left hand. 

Katsuki scoffs, following after him with stomping steps. “He wasn’t.” He dismisses quickly, “And even if he was, you don’t get to act like a knotheaded asshole.”

Shouto clenches his jaw.

“He was asking you out on a date. Was I just supposed to sit there and look stupid? Is that how you like me, Katsuki? Stupidity going along with whatever it is you decide you want from me at the moment?”

“I can handle myself,” Katsuki hisses, “I don’t need you acting like you need to save me, you Icy Hot bastard. I could’ve said no without your goddamn display. You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”

Shouto sighs out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. “I’m not trying to own you, Katsuki.”

“Well, you sure fucking act like it.” Katsuki snarls, and his voice is hard and more than a little mean, “We’re not together.”

And really, that’s the last straw.

Shouto whirls around, his heart hammering in his chest, his scent blazing with frustration. 

“Then what the hell do you want from me, Katsuki?” He asks, eyes blown wide, fingers crushing into the cardboard.

 “First, you don’t want me, then you only want me behind closed doors. Then I’m making you make all the decisions, and now I’m what? Making too many decisions? Acting like I like you too much?” 

Shouto shakes his head, huffing a sigh.

“Do you want me? Do you want to even try to make us work? If you don’t, that’s fine. I understand. Your Hero career is important; I’d never want to take that from you. But I can’t keep doing this, guessing and then being punished when I get it wrong. I’m not trying to save you. I’m not trying to own you. I just want you. ”

Katsuki stares at him, breathing heavily, hands balled up in fists at his sides. Shouto searches his face for anything other than the obvious anger, anything to tell him that Katsuki wants this, wants them.

 He thought he was seeing glimpses of it. He saw it in the pizza shop just before everything turned to shit; he saw it this morning when Katsuki snuck into his room and a plethora of other times that were enough to convince him. That made him think, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Katsuki was wanting just as badly as him.

But now he wonders if anything will ever be enough for Katsuki to actually choose him.

All the want he’s been keeping under wraps is unfurling in quick succession, spreading throughout his nerves, communicating across his cells. Until it settles, burning, in the beating of his heart.

“I know what I want from you. I know what I want us to be. I want to court you, I want to love you, I eventually want to mate you.”

Shouto takes a deep breath, steals himself against the whipping winds, and stares Katsuki down, unflinching, unblinking, and sturdy. 

“Do you want me?”

And truthfully, Shouto just needs an answer. He just needs a yes or no. He’s desperate for it. He can’t keep doing the hazy facade they’ve created, together then not together, in public then not in public. Hidden, but only when there are people around who matter.

Silence stretches between them, long and taut. The snow insulates them, giving their lack of sound a stage. It stretches and stretches, and each second is a cold knife whittling its way past Shouto’s ribs to pierce his heart. 

“We need to get back.” Katsuki snaps, knocking their shoulders as he stomps past.

And there, in the snow, all of Shouto’s insides frost over and crumble.

The rest of the night Shouto is cold. Even when they return to the warmth of Katsuki’s home, he’s cold. 

It’s hard to make himself engage in conversation, but he does so for the sake of not being rude. Mitsuki and Masaru are wonderful hosts, and the food is second only to his sister’s. He smiles, nods along, and avoids Katsuki as much as Katsuki avoids him.

Shouto watches the family exchange gifts, and when Masaru gives him a concerned glance, Shouto promptly excuses himself to bed. 

He’s decided he’ll leave tomorrow afternoon. He’ll tell Katsuki’s parents there’s been a family emergency, and he’ll catch the first train back to the UA dorms. There, Katsuki can go back to pretending he doesn’t exist, and Shouto can clean his wounds in the privacy of his room.

As he’s packing his things it hits him hard just how pathetic he is. One week. He’s lasted one week. He got yelled at a bit, and now he’s running for the hills.

 It’s more than that, he knows. A few months' worth of push and pull has given him whiplash; it has completely disarmed and discombobulated him. 

But love is hard. Isn’t it?

Or maybe love is just as much work as you’re willing to put into it. Maybe Shouto is empty now, with nothing left to pour into a cup the other so clearly doesn’t want. Maybe he was the fool for pouring so much of himself in the first place.

Even now, Shouto can’t help but want some answers. He’s constantly wanting Katsuki. His head, heart, and every muscle in his body are drawn to the Omega. He knows Katsuki is attracted to him, at least in some way.

 But Katsuki can’t cherry-pick which parts of their relationship, which parts of Shouto, he wants to keep around. 

But they’ve already been through so much struggle, so much strife.

Is Katsuki worth more of that struggle? Even now, feeling so empty and alone, Shouto’s first instinct is a solid resounding yes. Katsuki is worth it. But not breaking, never breaking. Shouto will not be broken for anyone.

He plans to talk to Katsuki in the morning when he has his head straight and can speak without losing it like he had tonight. He’s not sure what, exactly, he’ll tell the Omega. That he’s leaving, yes, but he can’t quite put words to the all-encompassing hurt just yet.

An hour later, he’s in bed, staring up at the ceiling, when he realizes he won’t be able to sleep. His mind won't shut off, replaying the image of Katsuki’s face over and over again. The scrunch of his nose, the harsh edge of his voice. He’s been combing through the memory, picking it apart and putting it back together, gut rolling with a strange mix of guilt and frustration.

And longing. It’s always there, no matter how frustrated Shouto seems to get with Katsuki. It’s here now, punching a hole through his chest and making him feel like curling in on himself.

He’s climbing out of bed before he fully registers what, exactly, that longing means. 

When Shouto opens his door to the hallway, Bakugou Katsuki is already there, lingering in front of his room and jumping like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He’s sleep rumpled, messy hair and tired eyes, a frown biting into the corners of his lips. The relief Shouto feels to see him almost outweighs his frustrations. 

Almost.

For a long moment, they just stare at one another. Shouto isn’t sure what to say. It isn’t like he always knew what to do or say before, but now it’s particularly hard. Now it feels like everything is on the line, and Shouto doesn’t want to fuck it up.

Deep down, though, he’s hopeful. He thinks he’ll always be that way when it comes to Katsuki, and that’s either the most pathetic he’ll ever be, or the most in love. Maybe both.

Katsuki steps back, jumping slightly when he hits his door. He clears his throat and drops his eyes, blonde lashes fanned out against his cheeks. 

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

Shouto frowns, gripping the door handle tight. 

“No.” He sighs, pushing his hair away from his face, pointedly ignoring the instinctual pull tugging in his gut, encouraging him to smooth things over. Instincts, Shouto is realizing, aren’t the greatest compass to follow for everything. 

Maybe this was what Masaru meant when he said patience wouldn’t do Shouto any good. Maybe he meant that they needed to talk and lead with their brains, not just the crazed urge to be close to one another.

“I was just… well, I was coming to see you. We… sleep better together, I think.” Katsuki grunts, red slowly creeping up his neck from under the collar of his shirt. Shouto recognizes the words for what they are: an olive branch—an opportunity to sweep everything under the rug and continue with their regularly scheduled program.

He doesn’t want it. 

“Katsuki,” Shouto sighs, voice a hushed rush, equal parts exhausted and pained, “Please, I can’t keep doing this.”

Katsuki finally looks up at him. He’s not as steely-faced as Shouto had expected. His eyes are narrowed and theres a slight tremble in his bottom lip.

“What are you saying?” Katsuki snaps, shifting restlessly in his spot, guard shooting right back up. “Spit it out.”

Shouto shakes his head, and really, does Katsuki still not get it after all this time?

“I don’t know how many different ways I can say this to get it through your thick skull, Katsuki, but I’ll try one more time. I want you . That’s it. Those are all of my cards laid out on the table. I want you, I want you, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait however long it takes for you to choose me, but I can’t make you do it. When has anybody made you do anything you didn’t want to do?”

Shouto laughs, a small, strained sound. He steps away from his door, closing it behind him and daring to take another step closer. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere, I’ll face anything with you. I know my behavior earlier was a bit much. And I’m sorry for that.” 

And he means it. He may have overreacted, but this thing with Katsuki is something he wants for life, is something he’s willing to fight for. It was irrational, but in that moment it felt like everything he and Katsuki were working towards was being ripped right out of his hands. 

Shouto realizes now that he’s at a boiling point. He has been for a while. 

“But I can’t want you in secret. If you don’t want that, it’s okay. But I need to know what it is you do want. I need to know if you want me, Katsuki. Please.”

Shouto watches as Katsuki takes in his words, and those shocked eyes settle into a familiar glare. A pink bottom lip pokes out in that pouty frown Shouto loves. 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Katsuki claims, frustration written all over his face.

Shouto reaches out for him, gently gripping the Omega’s chin and swaying closer until Katsuki’s back is pressed to his door, and they’re breathing in the same air. He doesn’t want to hear the million reasons why it’s a bad idea or why Katsuki can’t be with him. That can come later. He just wants to know if he’s wanted. If he’s enough somehow, even if it doesn’t change Katsuki’s decision.

“It doesn’t have to be simple to be true, Katsuki. Do you want me?”

Katsuki shakes his head, his eyes heavy and weary. “I need to be number one. I’m not giving that up for any Alpha, Shouto, not even you.

Shouto gives an exasperated huff, tightening his fingers on Katsuki’s chin. 

“Good. Do you want me?”

Katsuki stares at him, a bit like he’s stupid, and with equal amounts of exasperation.

“The public would be fucking insufferable, it doesn’t matter what I want-”

“It matters to me. ” Shouto growls, “Do you want me?”

“I can’t-”

“Do. You. Want. Me?”

“Of course I fucking want you,” Katsuki hisses, staring up at him with a storm brewing in those red eyes. 

“Of course I do, you fucking idiot. I want you. I want you too much, that's my goddamn problem. I want you when I shouldn’t want anything other than being a Hero. I want you when I sleep, and I miss you when you’re gone. I want you, goddamnit.”

Shouto blinks. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Really?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, a full-body motion. “Yes, you moron, I want you. I’m drawn to you all the damn time.”

Shouto kisses him then. 

It’s an urgent, all-consuming kind of kiss. One that has Katsuki gripping onto him tight, nails digging into his shoulders as Shouto devours his mouth. He can’t help it, his chest is soaring, adoration and love and everything else surging thick and intoxicating through his bloodstream. 

Shouto’s hand slips past Katsuki’s jaw, sliding behind his neck and gripping a handful of his hair. He tilts the Omega’s head back for a better angle, licking past those plush lips into the wetness of his mouth. Katsuki’s chest stutters through a low moan, and his scent coils sweetly up Shouto’s nose. 

He’s addictive, warm, and making such pretty noises. And he wants Shouto. He actually wants him. The admission has Shouto bursting with all the feelings he’d kept locked away; they burn bright and hot through him. 

“You’re drawn to me.” Shouto breathes against Katsuki’s kiss-red mouth, and his skin prickles all over when Katsuki nods his head. He slips his arms around Shouto’s neck, bringing him closer.

“I am.” Katsuki murmurs, and Shouto thinks he’s trying to sound displeased about it, but the breathlessness in his voice undercuts the attempt.

Shouto kisses him again, slower this time. Languid presses and gentle withdrawals, his hand moving from Katsuki’s cheek to press against his chest. 

“Do you feel it here?” Shouto asks, kissing the corner of Katsuki’s mouth with a gentle hum. He feels Katsuki swallow and nod, tilting his chin up as Shouto brushes his lips against the spot just underneath the Omega’s ear. 

Sliding his hand down, Shouto breathes deep, letting Katsuki’s rapidly sweetening campfire-cherry scent make him dizzy. He rucks Katsuki’s shirt up and presses his hand to the hard planes of Katsuki’s lower stomach.

“And here?” 

And maybe Shouto has gone a little fucking insane. He’s thrumming with energy and pumping out pheromones, itching to get his hands all over the Omega. 

His Omega. 

His. 

His Alpha instincts are in an uproar. They’re making him damn near giddy and have him ready to rip Katsuki’s clothes off. Both he and the instincts residing in his body feel vindicated finally. Yes, Katsuki is his True Mate, and yes, Katsuki feels the same irresistible pull. 

The foggy mist of the unknown is gone, and Katsuki is there, wanting him. And Shouto is there, too, wanting him right back.

In reality, this hasn’t done anything but confirm that Katsuki feels the same way. This doesn’t guarantee that they’ll be together, but right now Shouto doesn’t care. Or he can’t even comprehend it. 

All that matters to him is the small squeaking grunt Katsuki makes in his ear, the way those hands slide up to clench at his hair, and the growled, “ Yes .”

Shouto reaches around Katsuki to turn the doorknob, and they go stumbling into the Omega’s room. He thinks he can hear the door close behind them; maybe Katsuki has kicked it shut, but he’s too busy licking and kissing the skin of Katsuki’s neck to pay attention.  

They fall to Katsuki’s bed, and Shouto leans up to pull his shirt over his head. The quick glimpse he gets around Katsuki’s room is enough for him to know there’s a lot of All Might merch and skull decorations, but then Katsuki pulls him back down, and they’re kissing again. 

His Omega is demanding about it, digging his nails into the bare skin of Shouto’s shoulders and biting at his lips, letting out these cute little growl-moans that drive Shouto crazy. Shouto makes sure to bite back and kiss him harder, licking between those sharp teeth, downing in the dizzying scent of smokey cherry. 

“I’m going to court you.” Shouto groans against those lips, his hands moving to yank Katsuki’s shirt off. It lands somewhere on the floor.

“Yeah?” Katsuki gasps, tilting his head back as Shouto dips his head to kiss over his pulse point. The scent gland there is slightly raised from Katsuki’s arousal, and Shouto groans into Katsuki’s skin when he tastes it. He’s hardening painfully fast in his pajama bottoms, all his blood rushing thick and hot through his veins.

 Katsuki is slicking, Shouto can smell the sweet aroma of it. The scent makes his teeth ache with the urge to bite, to claim. It makes him want to get his mouth on the Omega, to taste him, and bury his face between those thighs. He’s scent drunk, hard, and more than a little bit in love, so he says it out loud. 

“Yes,” Shouto says, and his voice feels rough coming out of his throat, a gravely mix of arousal and need. “I’m going to court you, make you mine, and taste every part of you.”

“You’re running your mouth and not doing jackshit, though.” Katsuki growls, but then he’s arching his back and gasping because Shouto’s hands have found the swell of his pecks. It makes the comment less vicious than Shouto is sure he meant it, and has him cracking a smile.

“I ever tell you you’ve got a pretty chest?” Shouto asks dumbly, running his thumbs over Katsuki’s hardening nipples. They’re flushed a deep pink, and the rest of his chest is slowly reddening, the blush traveling up his neck to splash across his cheeks. 

“Why the fuck would you ever tell me that?” Katsuki asks, squirming under his hands as Shouto gropes at his chest. He’s all hard muscle, but there’s a soft give that makes Katsuki’s flesh plump up between the gaps in his fingers when he squeezes. It’s addicting; has Shouto alternating between rolling Katsuki’s nipples and just grabbing handfuls.

“Because you do.” Shouto rumbles, eyes flicking up to watch Katsuki’s face as he moves down the Omega’s body. He glares, but his mouth is dropped open, and his arms are thrown above his head. He’s all stretched out, a spread for Shouto to enjoy.

“You’re pretty all over.” Shouto murmurs, kissing down his chest. He licks over one of the Omega’s nipples, humming as a quiet, whiny noise breaks from Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki arches, and Shouto seals his lips over the bud, grinding his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure.

“Shut up,” Katsuki groans, his hands anchoring in Shouto’s hair. He curls his fingers into the strands, hanging on tight. Shouto likes the slight burn of the tugging; it makes his blood simmer, and a raw primal want zap through his muscles. 

 Katsuki isn’t wearing anything else but a pair of boxers, and Shouto takes full advantage of that, sliding his right hand from the Omega’s chest and slipping past the waistband. He combs his fingers through the soft tuft of blonde hair that awaits him, tugging on it slightly just to hear Katsuki’s gasp and smell the rush of slick that burst from him in response.

“Hurry up, hurry up.” Katsuki demands, arching his hips up. Shouto gives him what he wants, sliding his fingers between the hot slit of Katsuki’s cunt and pressing the pads of his fingers to his flushed, wet clit.

Katsuki moans at the contact and Shouto moves his fingers in quick, tight circles, doesn’t give him any time to adjust or warm up to the sensation. Normally, he would, but the tension is thick, and the air is electric between them, sweet with Katsuki's slick and Shouto’s pheromones. They’re both stinking up the room, a heady mix of fuck and mine.

He has to really press his fingers together to keep from slipping over Katsuki’s clit, his pussy is so wet there's barely any friction, but he feels good. Warm, wet, and hot to the touch. Katsuki stutters out a whining moan as Shouto adds more pressure, yanking at his hair as Shouto moves his mouth to suck over the other nipple he’d neglected.

They should be worried about the noise level. Katsuki’s parents are definitely asleep down the hall. The worry is floating somewhere in the back of Shouto’s mind, but he can’t stop. Not when Katsuki is breathlessly whimpering his name, gushing slick, and rocking his hips into Shouto’s hand.

“Fuck, that feels so goddamn good.” Katsuki trembles, voice a breathless whine. He’s getting even wetter; Shouto can feel it splash against his fingers. His dick twitches against Shouto’s palm, full and hard. It’s begging for attention, but Shouto only has so many hands. 

He loves Katsuki’s dick. It’s cute, pink at the tip, and leaks just as much pre-cum as Katsuki’s hole leaks slick. The last time he got his hands on it was… way too long ago, Shouto realizes. 

That single thought is what has him abandoning Katsuki’s chest, now flushed a deep red from all the biting and sucking, and moving down the length of the Omega’s body. Shouto kisses over the trembling muscles of his stomach and shoves his boxers down those long, pale legs. He doesn’t focus on getting them all the way off, just leaves them dangling off Katsuki’s ankle as he noses through the blonde trail of hair that leads to the Omega’s weeping dick. His fingers find their home at the sopping-wet entrance of Katsuki’s pussy, pressing teasingly but not quite pushing in.

Katsuki tugs at his hair, and Shouto’s eyes flick up to catch the Omega staring at him, eyes blown out with want and pleasure. Shouto bares his teeth, showing the sharp glint of his canines. He’s a Prime so they’re longer than regular Alpha teeth, made for puncturing deep and hard. He doesn’t even realize he’s done it until Katsuki’s eyes are widening at the sight and he’s shuddering in Shouto’s grasp, scent going cherry-jam sweet as he leaks more slick.

“Don’t stop, you dick.” Katsuki pouts, tugging petulantly at his hair. Shouto hums, dipping his head and brushing his nose up the short length of the Omega’s cock; relishing in the gasp he gets when he curls his tongue around the head.

He wants to eat the Omega alive. Fuck him stupid, bite into his pretty pale skin, and make him cum over and over again. Until he’s shaking on Shouto’s cock, no more snarky quips, just constant moaning. 

So Shouto swallows him down, parts his lips over the head of Katsuki’s dick, and slips the whole thing into his mouth, hallowing his cheeks and sucking hard. The taste and feel have Shouto groaning.

He’s never sucked dick before, his previous partners didn’t have that anatomy, but he makes quick work of learning. He tucks his teeth and sucks in pulsing intervals, slowly bobbing his head and giving the most suction to the pretty pink head. The taste of Katsuki is addicting, this bitter sweet flavor that Shouto chases blindly.

 Katsuki thrashes, then lets out a too-loud broken moan when Shouto slips two fingers inside of him as well. This, Shouto knows how to do. He curls his fingers in deep, matching the bobbing of his head with the thrusting. He flexes and curls them, and the wet sloshing of Katsuki’s cunt makes Shouto wild. Has him sucking harder and thrusting his fingers faster, dragging the pads of his fingers against those wet walls until Katsuki is tightening around him.

And Katsuki is choking out something, a demand, a plea for more, Shouto doesn’t know. His brain is too foggy to focus on it, too caught up in chasing that musky-sweet taste of Katsuki’s precome. It’s leaking steadily onto his tongue now, thick and hot, flowing faster with each suck and thrust. 

“Shouto, Shouto–” Katsuki’s moaning is cut off, muffled by something. His hand, Shouto thinks. Probably for the best, he’s getting a little loud, and Shouto’s only getting more insistent, pressing his fingers to the Omega’s g-spot and dragging them against that spongey raised spot with every curl of his knuckles.

Shouto takes his dick down all the way, sucking hard and pressing his nose to the blonde hairs at the base. Katsuki’s muffled whining only encourages him. Some stupid Alpha part of his brain wants to see how loud he can get his Omega, even with his hand over his mouth. 

So he doubles his efforts, bobbing his head in short, tight movements and letting the tip push against the roof of his mouth. He adds another finger and makes sure to drive them in deep, flexing them up in a motion that has Katsuki’s pussy making wet clicking noises with each curl.

Katsuki’s reaction is almost violent. He chokes back a moan, his thighs clenching and trembling around Shouto’s head, yanking hard on his hair. Shouto just has to sit there and let them crush him because his free hand is down between his pants, gripping tightly at his cock to relieve some of the pressure. 

He’s tingling all over, his body thrumming with frustration and arousal, but even more than that, he needs Katsuki to cum. He needs to feel him clench, to feel him lose all control. It’s almost better than his own pleasure. 

He doesn’t know what that says about him as an Alpha, and maybe it’s a bit pathetic, but it’s the only thing he can focus on. Katsuki’s pleasure, his trembling, his moaning that's getting loud even behind his hand. 

A high-pitched squealing gasp is the only warning Shouto gets before Katsuki cums. His pussy clenches up tight around Shouto’s fingers, hot thick wetness dripping from his hole and rolling down Shouto’s wrist. His dick spurts salty-sweet cum and flood Shouto’s mouth, twitching with each pulsing wave as Shouto swallows it all down.

Shouto loses himself in it. The taste, the smell of their pheromones, the desperate attempts to stay quiet, and the clenching tightness of those thigh muscles at his ears. He sucks and fucks Katsuki through his orgasm and well beyond it. Until his dick has gone soft in Shouto’s mouth, until the walls of his cunt are clenching tight in a vice-like grip, until Katsuki is twitching from the after-shocks and has to forcibly yank Shouto up by his hair 

Shouto’s eyes find familiar red irises, and he licks his lips free of Katsuki’s wetness as the Omega stares at him. His eyes are a little crazed, blown wide, his chest and shoulders flush as he pants into the open air. He looks so debauched, sex drunk, and pretty. And really, Shouto just gets the urge to eat him again. To flip him over and fuck into his sweet pussy, to mark him up. 

Katsuki’s hand loosens in his hair, sliding down to cup his cheek with a heavy sigh.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking insatiable.” Katsuki breathes. He’s trying to glare, but it isn’t working. He just looks well and properly fucked, hair mussed, lips bitten, and his eyes drooping low.

“You taste good.” Shouto rumbles stupidly, turning his head to nose at Katsuki’s wrist, breathing in the scent gland there. He kisses up the Omega’s arm, pushing himself up his body as Katsuki’s arms circle around his neck, helping guide him closer until their lips find each other again.

 Shouto kisses him slowly, tilting his head and licking into his mouth, groaning low against those lips as Katsuki wraps his thighs around his waist, pressing them flush together. 

“Are you actually going to fuck me now, or are you just going to be a tease?” Kastsuki questions, combing his fingers through the hair at the base of Shouto’s neck, his grip tight. Shouto smiles at the neediness of his Omega, keeping him trapped in place so he can continue pressing kisses to his lips. Shouto obliges despite having no plans to move anywhere else, humming gently.

“Probably not.” Shouto murmurs, ignoring the way Katsuki stiffens under him and the pout that forms on his mouth. Shouto slides his hands up Katsuki’s sides, thumbing under his pecs and giving long lingering kisses until that pout softens up.

“You’re too loud.” He laughs, leaning back to look Katsuki in the eye. Katsuki doesn’t find him funny, glaring and smacking his shoulder for good measure. 

“Yeah, well, I was surprised because you fucking jumped me,” Katsuki grumbles, sliding his hands over Shouto’s shoulders and down his arms, feeling him up. Shouto tilts his head, all his hair swooshing to one side with the motion. 

“I’ll make sure to give you a notice in advance next time.” Shouto teases, sitting back on his knees and pushing his pants down his hips to free his aching erection. He’s so hard it's almost painful now, has the veins dancing up the sides pulsing with the need to be touched. 

Katsuki sits up on his elbows, eyeing him with a dangerous spark in his eyes. “Thought you weren’t fucking me?” 

“I’ve got an idea.” Shouto laughs, shaking his head. He has to shuffle a little bit to get his pants all the way off, but he manages, tossing them over the side of the bed. He’s one hundred percent sure he can’t fuck Katsuki at the moment, the Omega will get way too loud and Shouto too carried away, and they’ll end up in a very awkward conversation with Katsuki’s parents. But they can do something like it and not get too carried away, right? 

“You’re not just putting the tip in me, moron.” Katsuki says, glaring at him with doubtful eyes. Shouto huffs, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he cups his hands behind Katsuki’s thighs.

“Just lean back, okay?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Katsuki grumbles while doing exactly what Shouto asked, leaning back into the pillows. Shouto pushes his legs up, spreading him open and exposing his drooling pussy to the cold air of the bedroom. 

“Remember, you have to be quiet.” Shouto murmurs, thrumming with anticipation as he slots himself between those legs. He grips the base of his cock and nestles it right in between the folds of Katsuki’s cunt, groaning low in his throat as he gives an experimental thrust, sliding between pink folds, over Katsuki’s clit, and up his twitching dick.

And Katsuki is all flushed, reaching out to grip his other leg so Shouto has enough room to work, red from his cheeks down to his chest. He stares up at Shouto with blown eyes. 

“Sure feels like you’re about to fuck me.” He breathes, clutching at his leg with tight fingers as Shouto drags his cock down, gathering slick wetness from the entrance of Katsuki’s pussy, before thrusting his cock up through the folds again. They both moan, then, and Shouto can’t help but breathe out a laugh. 

“Not quite.” He murmurs, and Katsuki is leaking so much slick that Shouto’s cock and hand are getting drenched in it. Shouto slaps the head of his cock against Katsuki’s clit for good measure, an electric current of pleasure shooting hot down his spine as Katsuki stutters out a moan. 

“This was your idea?” The Omega snarks, “Just rubbing your dick on me?”

Shouto licks his lips and begins grinding his hips forward with more purpose. The pressure has Katsuki moaning and rolling his hips to match it. 

“Seems like you’re liking it, Omega.” Shouto rumbles, eyes flicking up to lock with Katsuki’s as he finds a slow rhythm. 

Katsuki’s hips arch up to follow his movements, brow all furrowed up and his lips red and bitten, “Shut the fuck up.” 

 Shouto rolls his hips forward, making sure to brush over Katsuki’s entrance and up his clit with each roll. The head of his cock parts through Katsuki’s slit, gathering more slick with every movement until the glide is completely smooth. He can only really use the head and a bit of the shaft like this, but Katsuki is so warm and wet that it doesn’t even matter. 

Katsuki moans too loud, then slaps his hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to cover it up. Shouto laughs, adding more pressure, rolling forward with concentrated thrusts. The sound of them is filthy, wet slipping and sliding noises fill the room with each movement. 

He can’t move as fast as he wants to like this; Katsuki’s pussy is so wet it’s basically a slip-n-slide threatening to ruin Shouto’s aim with every shift, but Katsuki is so overstimulated and Shouto is already so turned on that speed doesn't matter much. Each slide has his spine sparking with liquid hot pleasure until Shouto’s grunting on every thrust and Katsuki is humping up against him, toes curling from the stimulation.

“Just fuck me,” Katsuki moans, his voice a rough whisper, muffled behind his hand. He looks so pretty, brow all furrowed up as he stares at Shouto with wanton red eyes. 

The command has Shouto growling low in his throat and grinding against Katsuki just a little faster, turning his head to the ankle hanging over his shoulder and sinking his teeth into it. 

Katsuki makes a cute little chirping sound, the type that only Omega’s can make, and Shouto’s brain scrambles. Not much was there in the first place, not with Katsuki’s pheromones up his nose, but he’s well a truly ruined by the noise. It drives all logical sense out of his mind and has his Alpha instincts taking the reins, rutting with a single-minded focus against Katsuki’s pussy, the temperature of his skin dropping and raising drastically. 

“Fuck me, Shouto, just fuck me fuck me,” Kastuki mewls, throwing his head back, twitching and squirming from the sensations. He’s completely abandoned holding his leg up, and the hand over his mouth is gone too. He’s got them thrown above his head, twisting them into the sheets as he whimpers into the open air. 

Shouto hooks the back of Katsuki’s knees on his elbows, pushing forward and bending him in half, pressing his hips flush against the Omega’s ass. Like this, he’ll be able to keep Katsuki from squirming too far away and keep his cock between the Omega’s cunt. 

It feels better, too. Allows the entire length of him to feel Katsuki, shaft resting against his entrance, clit, and dick. The tip hangs over just a bit, leaned against the lower muscles of Katsuki’s stomach.

“Oh shit,” Katsuki grunts, his hands flying up to tangle in Shouto’s hair, panting heavily into the air between them as Shouto grinds against him, snapping his hips forward as if he were really fucking the Omega. It has his muscles feeling like jelly, warm licks of electricity shooting through his nerves and fogging his brain.

“Katsuki,” Shouto breathes, pressing their foreheads together and moaning into the razor-thin distance between their lips, “ Omega. ” 

Katsuki whines, tightening his fingers in Shouto’s hair. He yanks Shouto close, sealing their lips together in a sloppy kiss. It’s too much teeth, and too much spit, but Katsuki can’t stop moaning into his mouth and Shouto is a breath away from cumming, so it’s perfect.

He ruts against Katsuki with purpose, too far gone to worry about aim or anything else, addicted to the way his cock parts through Katsuki’s pussy with each thrust. He almost looks too big like this, bullying his way through Katsuki’s cunt and getting both of them wet with the mix of slick and pre-cum, but it feels good. Feels like he’s claiming Katsuki thoroughly, rubbing his scent all over and pleasing his Omega in the process.

And when Shouto gets like this it's impossible for him to control himself, his thoughts, his mouth. That and maybe he’s just so far gone that he can’t pretend he doesn’t feel the way he does anymore. He can feel himself growling against the Omega’s lips, can feel his left side getting a little too hot, but the only thing that matters is Katsuki.

“Mine,” Shouto rumbles, feeling crazed, feeling wild. An open book, painfully genuine and in love. “ Mine . You’re my Omega, Katsuki. With your pretty noises and pretty pussy.”

“You’re such a fucking–” Katsuki cuts himself off with his own moan, whispering fiercely, “Fucking possessive asshole.”

Shouto nods, nipping Katsuki’s bottom lip. Maybe he is a possessive asshole, he doesn’t care. Katsuki is just as bad.

“ My Omega.” 

“Fuck me, Shouto, fuck me, make me cum,” 

“ My pussy.”

And Katsuki is shaking now, trembling really. 

“Fuck me Alpha.”

Then they’re both gasping, shocked, choked noises, because the head of his cock catches at the slick entrance of Katsuki’s cunt. He’s so wet that all it takes is the surprised, jerky thrust of Shouto’s hips for him to slide in, tip to root.

And Katsuki is cumming, mouth open in a silent cry, clenching down like a vice as his whole body locks up tight. Shouto is gone, growling so hard it’s rumbling through his entire frame and has him burying his nose in Katsuki’s neck, actively fighting the urge to bite down. 

He can’t stop himself now, not with Katsuki, hot, velvety soft, and so so slick around him. He can’t even bring himself to pull out to properly thrust, just grinding forward with hard snaps of his hips as his orgasm barrels through him. 

Katsuki claws down his back, and Shouto vaguely feels hot pops of pain over his skin as the Omega loses control of his quirk. He’s found his voice too, moaning too loud with hiccuping breaths as he’s worked into even more overstimulation. 

Shouto has to lean up and capture his lips to muffle the sound, and he takes the opportunity to moan against the Omega’s mouth as well. His hips grind forward with stuttering movements and he cums in long, pulsing spurts, the pleasure shocking through his system like a bullet. 

Katsuki digs his nails into his shoulders, deep marks that make Shouto hiss through his teeth. He’s rambling a bit and definitely drawing blood, a mix of Shouto’s name and profanity between their kisses.

Truth is, the wet heat of Katsuki’s cunt has rendered Shouto completely stupid. His knot threatens to swell at the base of his cock and he cums so long and hard it almost lives up to his first rut. 

It feels so good and so overwhelming. Katsuki is still clenching tight around him and it has Shouto jerking slightly with after-shocks, ripping a few more spurts of cum from him before Katsuki finally goes limp.

His Omega, all boneless and panting. He whimpers with overstimulation as Shouto pulls out as gently as he can. Shouto’s Alpha swells with heady, addictive pride and adoration as he watches his cum leak from Katsuki’s hole. It’s coming out in thick globs, pearling up around the Omega’s entrance before slowly rolling down to ruin his sheats. 

“You’re such a fucking freak,” Katsuki grumbles, breathy and still a little whiny, weakly slapping Shouto’s shoulder. “Stop watching. I’m fuckin’ cold.”

Shouto looks up, and when they lock eyes he can’t help the smile that pulls at his mouth. It feels a little lopsided on his face, scent drunk and smitten. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but it's with an aching fondness that makes Shouto want to scoop him up and kiss all over his face. 

So he does. Because Shouto isn’t pulling his punches anymore, and because Katsuki is his and he is Katsuki’s. He lowers the Omega’s legs, gathering Katsuki up in his arms, back to chest. He presses kisses all over the back of his neck and shoulder, rumbling deep soothing noises. They’re more instinctual than anything, not unlike a purr.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Katsuki grumbles, but he isn’t putting up much of a fight. Not any fight, really. He’s squirming around, pushing himself further back against Shouto as a gentle purr kicks up in his chest. The sound hijacks Shouto’s brain, immediately relaxes him, and has him sighing against Katsuki’s skin.

“And you were loud.” Shouto murmurs in rebuttal, gently nosing at the crook of Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki pinches the back of his hand, and Shouto can almost see him glaring. Shouto smiles against his skin.

“I wasn’t the one running my fucking mouth, though.” Katsuki scoffs, still squirming like he can’t get close enough. Shouto holds him tighter and breathes a deep inhale of him. 

“You sounded really cute,” Shouto says honestly, bluntly, “I couldn’t help myself.”

 Shouto warms his palm up where it rests over the Omega’s midsection until heat is dancing up his spine and spreading to the entire left half of his body. Only then does Katsuki finally settle, huffing a sigh and threading their fingers together. 

“I can tell.” Katsuki says, eye-roll evident in his voice, “All the possessive posturing gave you away. 

“Wasn’t posturing.” Shouto murmurs, half-asleep and the most content he’s felt in a while. His instincts feel settled, happy. He has Katsuki in his arms, his scent in his nose, and he seems to have finally won over the Omega’s affection. It feels like a hard-won victory, as irrational as it is. He hasn’t really secured anything about their future, but Katsuki wants him, and somehow that's more than enough.

“More than half of the bullshit out of your mouth was the word ‘mine’, moron.”

Shouto breathes a heavy sigh. 

“You are mine.” Shouto murmurs, speaking firmly. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

Katsuki is quiet, and Shouto doesn’t say anything to elaborate. The words don’t need any altering, embellishments, or explanations. They’re plain, and they’re true. Shouto has never so irrevocably belonged to someone else. Katsuki is his present and his future. Nothing and no one can change that except Katsuki himself.

And maybe he will. Maybe Katsuki will make a decision that changes everything Shouto knows to be true. Maybe one day, they’ll be nothing more than occasional co-workers. Shouto doesn’t know, he can’t know. But he does know that this is right. That this is maybe the greatest love he’ll ever have. 

In the darkness of Katsuki’s childhood bedroom, he hopes Katsuki can feel that too.