Chapter Text
There is definitely a limit to how much of this Shouto can take. When Izuku and Katsuki are around, his tolerance grows. It’s just easier to sit in a room full of people –who society has decided are better than you in all ways– when you have people beside you who are willing to knock them all down a few pegs.
Shouto’s never really been one to make fun of people. He certainly doesn’t like the idea of anyone gossiping about him, but there’s something so inclusive in the way Izuku smirks at him when the alphas are being annoying. Something so private in the way Bakugou rolls his eyes in Shouto’s direction when they’re forced to put up with the horny undertones of an alpha conversation.
Shouto doesn’t really have anything against the alphas. They’re his classmates, and they’re his friends, and Shouto appreciates all of them. He just wishes they weren’t all alphas. Why did he have to end up in a class of seventeen alphas? They’re all so intense and competitive, and yet Shouto envies them so much. They’re so connected in a way Shouto isn’t.
Despite all of his eye rolling, even Bakugou has this connection with the alphas that Shouto just doesn’t understand.
Shouto does understand one thing. He could never provide for an omega in the ways an alpha could.
When Katsuki finally stopped wearing those horrible alpha pheromones --that even Shouto could detect with his weak beta nose– and finally revealed himself to be an omega, it was like fucking christmas morning for Izuku and Shouto. They finally had someone else to invite to their little No Alpha’s Allowed meetings. The three of them formed a bond of solidarity that could never be broken.
Katsuki revealing his secondary gender changed a lot of things for Shouto and Izuku. All of a sudden, they weren’t the two betas sitting in the corner, pretending they had much of a say amongst all of the testosterone, and instead they were following fed up omega Katsuki into battle, laying down the law. Shouto thinks they can attribute a lot of their success to Katsuki’s supposedly enticing scent, which he now wears freely, and uses like a weapon against the masses. The alpha’s turn into puppies at the hand of Katsuki’s magical omega powers.
Katsuki being an omega is great. Shouto’s glad to have another ally, he really is. It’s just… Katsuki’s enduring his first heat at the moment, and while Shouto mostly just feels sorry that he has to deal with that pain on his own, he also feels the tiniest bit of resentment. As he sits in the living room with all of these alphas, he thinks not only of how Katsuki would make this sausage fest more bearable, but also of how compatible Katsuki is with the alphas in this room. How he needs an alpha to make him feel better during his heats. How, once again, Shouto is a step below everyone else in the room.
No one needs a beta.
To make it worse, Izuku isn’t here to console him on the topic. He certainly won’t tell any of the alphas about his concerns, they’ll just get defensive, so he goes to the kitchen to get some space. He decides he’s hungry, and he doesn’t want to go back there any time soon, so he scavenges through the fridge, looking for something that will take him a while to cook. He settles on the only thing he ever buys for himself, that being his cold soba. Which, much to his exasperation, doesn’t require much preparation at all. He decides to make himself a milkshake instead, a big one, with lots of ingredients. Something that will take a long time.
So that’s what he does. He starts with icecream and milk and then adds syrup and mixes it all up. He pours it all into a cup and adds another scoop of icecream to slowly melt into the mixture. Then he adds some ice because he’s running out of ingredients that wont completely ruin the taste. He sprays whipped cream on top and is disappointed when he cant find a cherry to finish it off. He needs a topper, something to add a little flair to the dessert, and something to extend his time in the kitchen.
He’s almost all the way through crushing a chocolate bar to add to what Katsuki would call a monstrosity when he becomes aware of the person standing behind him.
He speeds up his process, peeling the packet open to dump his crushed chocolate bar on top of all of that whipped cream with no grace at all. So much for flair. He throws his wrapper in the bin and when he turns to put the ice cream back in the freezer, he realises the alpha he’d been expecting is not an alpha at all.
“Oh.” Shouto says, as he takes Katsuki in.
His hair is damp, mostly dried out by now but while Shouto is watching him, he notices a single droplet fall against his shirt with a wet splat. He’s wearing oversized clothing. He’s sure that’s the biggest T-Shirt known to man, and Katsuki usually wears baggy pants to hide his shape, so that’s no surprise. The shirt, however, makes him look so tiny that Shouto wants to pick him up and carry him around like he’s a stray kitten or something. He wants to wrap him up in the additional material hanging over his hips and hold him to his chest.
Katsuki would probably hit him in the head if he could read his mind right now.
“Hello Katsuki,” Shouto says when Katsuki offers no words of his own.
Katsuki grunts in response, still just watching Shouto with so much intensity, Shouto gets this feeling like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. He has no other explanation for why Katsuki is just looking at him without saying a word. Maybe he used Katsuki’s ice cream to make his milkshake, or maybe Katsuki is preparing a monologue about how to make a milkshake properly. Shouto may never know what Katsuki’s waiting for, because he never says anything to explain himself.
“Are you hungry?” Shouto asks in an attempt to ease the tension. Maybe if he offers him something, Katsuki wont feel the need to chew him out for whatever it is that he fucked up.
Katsuki blinks at him for a few seconds, like he finds Shouto’s offer surprising. In his defense, Shouto is a famously bad cook, he’s probably worried about food poisoning.
Katsuki, much to Shouto’s relief and then confusion, turns his head down and smiles at the tiles below his feet. He nods once and Shouto springs to action, pulling the fridge open and rummaging through its contents, eager to please the omega. Now that Katsuki is here, Shouto has permission to use his ingredients, which opens up a whole new category of meals to make. However, he is very quickly deflated by the realisation that Katsuki only has a few loose vegetables and some hot sauce to work with.
“Oh.” He says again. “There’s not much to work with,” he frowns at the contents of the fridge. There is, of course, Shouto’s trusty soba. It’s not much, but it’s still food. “Do you want soba?”
“Sure.” Katsuki responds quietly from his place by the pantry. He hasn’t moved since he showed up there.
“Okay. Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should sit down.”
Katsuki walks across the kitchen and gingerly lifts himself onto the counter to Shouto’s left.
He’s awfully quiet. Shouto doesn’t think Katsuki has ever gone this long without raising his voice. Shouto presses his hand to Katsuki’s forehead to make sure he isn’t dying. He’s warm, but not unnaturally so. Maybe he should check for a pulse.
“You don’t need to check my pulse, stupid.” Katsuki grumbles. It doesn’t have the same bite to it as it usually does.
“How should I know? You’re not saying much.”
“I’m tired, not in cardiac arrest.”
Shouto frowns at that. “Here, try this,” he offers, sliding his milkshake over to Katsuki. Katsuki spins the cup around, criticising the contents.
“I’m not trying that without a straw.” He whispers.. so quietly. That’s strange. Shouto’s never had trouble hearing Katsuki before. He resists the urge to check his pulse again.
He gets Katsuki his straw and then goes about preparing the soba while his classmate fusses with the paper wrapper. He should have removed it for him, but then Katsuki might have seen that as a show of pity, which would undoubtedly piss him off.
He’s moved onto preparing the dipping sauce when Katsuki finally takes a sip.
“Is it good?”
“It’s really fucking sweet.” He admits, and when Shouto frowns at that, he adds, “Better than the shit I’ve been eating all week.”
“That’s a good start, I suppose.” Shouto smiles down at the meal he’s preparing. That was basically a glowing compliment by Katsuki’s standards. So, if Katsuki is willing to drink his monstrosity, hopefully he won’t complain too much about the soba.
When the soba is ready, Shouto takes it into the dining area and then comes back to help Katsuki off of the countertop. He doesn’t comment on how slowly Katsuki moves as he shuffles across the kitchen and into the dining area. Shouto sits down beside him with the rest of his milkshake and sips absently, waiting for Katsuki’s consensus on Shouto’s very basic attempt at preparing food.
Katsuki doesn’t offer any criticism on his meal, which Shouto optimistically reads as approval. He leans his chin on his hand and watches in silence as Katsuki consumes his food.
“So, what’s the consensus on heats?” Shouto asks when Katsuki lifts his head to look at him.
Katsuki’s face scrunches in disgust. “They fucking suck.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the general consensus,” Shouto says because he specifically remembers Katsuki saying that he could deal with some cramps and a few unexpected impulses. Shouto also remembers him saying that only a coward would need help dealing with such a small inconvenience .
“Yeah, well, the omegas were right, okay.” Katsuki squeezes a noodle so tight with his chopsticks that it cuts in half in midair, falling to the plate so Katsuki has to reach down and pick it back up. Shouto’s surprised to realise he’s happy Katsuki’s temper is flaring back to life. Seeing him so quiet had been unsettling. “Turns out they’re not all whiny babies. I’m glad you don’t have to deal with that shit.”
“You’re glad…”
“Mmh. I’d never hear the end of it if that shit happened to you every month.”
“Well, I’m glad my lack of discomfort is convenient for you.”
Katsuki smirks down at his meal. Shouto can’t help but smile. He really missed Katsuki. He always misses him when he’s not around. Being in class and not seeing him in his seat, a few rows ahead of Shouto, was the worst feeling. He had to repeatedly remind himself that Katsuki was coming back, that he was still a part of the class, and that he was just taking a few days off.
“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that I actually missed your insults these last few days.”
Katsuki shakes his head, still smiling at his plate. “I’m not surprised. My insults are nothing if not enjoyable to be on the receiving end of.”
Shouto scoffs, “you only think that because you’ve never been on the receiving end.”
“Why would I be?”
“Of course, I assume you mean you’re too perfect to be on the receiving end of an insult?”
It’s true, but Shouto can’t let him know so easily. Katsuki already has an inflated ego. All the attention he gets from the alphas only makes it bigger. Shouto and Izuku are the only two people in this class who can keep Katsuki’s big head at a reasonable size. Shouto sips on his milkshake for a long time, staring at Katsuki.
When Katsuki finally lifts his head to see why Shouto hasn’t spoken again, he jumps. His surprise at Shouto’s deadpan stare instantly turns into a scowl. “You don’t think so? Go ask all those alpha’s out there,” he points in the direction of the living room.
Shouto rolls his eyes. He doesn’t even turn his head in their direction, doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction, “don’t start on them.”
Katsuki’s head tilts and he carefully places his chopsticks on his empty plate, “they been giving you grief?”
“Not really, it’s just that you weren’t around, and Izuku is on a placement at the moment.” Shouto’s voice drops, “I missed you both.”
Katsuki’s eyes soften, then they seem to sparkle as he says, “what happened to not needing friends?”
“Oh, so you’re finally willing to admit we’re friends.” Shouto jabs back.
Katsuki just tuts at him. Shouto knows the only reason the argument dies so quickly is because Katsuki’s too tired to keep it going.
Katsuki has finished his food by now — polished the plate — so Shouto slides the dishes away from the omega and takes them to rinse in the kitchen. There’s not much to clean, Katsuki really did polish his plate, which makes Shouto wonder if he’s still hungry. He’s sure Katsuki didn’t eat anything fresh while he was locked in his room, and Shouto just gave him processed, refrigerated shit to eat, so he steals a communal apple from the fruit bowl and cuts that into slices. If Katsuki doesn’t want them, he can just eat them himself, it might do him some good to have some fruit after the amount of sugar he just consumed.
He takes his time cutting the apple, aware that his knife skills are not the best. Maybe that’s how Katsuki managed to hobble all the way into the kitchen again before he finished. He makes his way over.
“Miss me?” Shouto asks.
“Just making sure you didn’t drown in the sink or something.”
Shouto huffs at the deflection. “Do you want some apple slices?”
“Yeah. Alright.” Katsuki says as he lifts himself onto the countertop again.
Shouto splits the apple slices, deciding that they will be good for his health. He hands a plate to Katsuki, who places it on his lap while he chews on the fruit.
“Thanks for dinner.” Katsuki mumbles. He blinks a few times, not looking at Shouto, and then says, “and for the hoodie.”
Shouto’s cheeks heat at the memory, at the way he’d wrenched the hoodie over his head and folded it into Katsuki’s hands as if driven by instinct. “Sorry if that was a weird thing to do. My instincts aren’t the best when it comes to these things.”
Katsuki’s expression noticeably softens. “Your instincts are fine, Shouto,” Katsuki leans against the pantry, “better than any of the alphas out there.”
Shouto places an apple slice in his mouth and chews it all the way through before asking, “really?”
“Mmm.” Katsuki nods slowly. “None of them offered to help the exhausted omega. I waited out there for twenty minutes.”
“You waited for someone to make dinner for you?” Shouto asks, feeling uplifted by Katsuki’s honesty.
Katsuki blushes. “Shut up.”
Shouto doesn’t have the nerve to look at him when he mutters, “well, if there’s anything else I can do for you, you should let me know. Don’t just sit there.”
Katsuki chews on his apple in silence for a while, head leaned against the pantry beside him, eyes on Shouto.
Shouto waits for him to make his demands, if he has any, and is shocked when Katsuki reaches his hand out, catching the front of Shouto’s shirt before tugging him closer. Shouto allows it, hesitant but willing to follow Katsuki’s directions. Whatever he wants, Shouto is willing to provide to the best of his abilities.
Once Shouto is close enough that his thighs are leaned up against the countertop, hips between Katsuki’s knees. Katsuki’s other hand slips around to his back, and he leans forward. The tip of his nose tickles along Shouto’s throat as he inhales, causing a shiver that Shouto has no hope of hiding from Katsuki, not when he has his hands on him.
“You smell better than an alpha.” Katsuki says.
Shouto stares at the splash back behind Katsuki’s head, “I don’t have a scent.”
“Yes you do.”
Shouto opens his mouth to argue but the earnest look in Katsuki’s eyes, the way he’d said it so simply, makes him pause. He clears his throat, curious, “what do- I- I smell like?”
“Warm.” Katsuki says without hesitation. “What do I smell like to you?” He tips his head to the side, revealing the glands at his throat. Exposing his most sensitive skin to Shouto.
Shouto can’t smell what Katsuki’s presenting to him, but he doesn’t need to. “Sweat, usually.”
Katsuki frowns.
“I think.” Shouto corrects. “You smell like caramel. Izuku has a theory that it’s the nitroglycerin in your sweat.”
Katsuki growls, eyes never leaving Shouto’s, “that little nerd knows everything about me, doesn’t he?”
“I think so.”
Katsuki sighs, dropping his gaze.
Shouto wants Katsuki to look at him again. He fidgets in Katsuki’s hold, trying to think of something to say. The truth is what slips off his tongue, “it’s nice.”
“Hmm?” Katsuki’s eyes jump to his face.
“You smell nice. I like sweet things.”
Katsuki laughs at that, ears turning red as he turns his face down.
Shouto bites back a smile. Katsuki seems to be very sensitive at the moment. He’ll be cranky about it later, but for now he just seems mildly embarrassed. He’s lucky Shouto’s the only one seeing all of this. He won’t tell anyone else.
This whole experience is something he’ll hold close to his chest.
He slides his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder, up the base of his skull, and pulls him closer.
Katsuki allows it. He even turns his head to the side so he can nuzzle his nose into Shouto’s neck.
Shouto fights off the urge to squeeze him. Instead, he stands too still, losing his nerve when Katsuki’s gentle nuzzling makes him feel weak in the knees. He’s sure he’s making the omega uncomfortable, and knows it for a fact when Katsuki’s hand comes down to rub small circles against Shouto’s lower back.
“Sorry.” Shouto says. He’s really not sure what to do about all of this. Katsuki’s never like this, never this open or trusting. This is obviously hard for him to allow himself to do, but must be necessary if he’s doing it. Shouto doesn’t want to ruin it. He wants to be someone who Katsuki can trust when he’s not feeling at his best. He tries to relax, and even if his heart is beating a million beats per minute, it seems to settle Katsuki.
Katsuki huffs, and the circles along Shouto’s spine turn into a loose grip on his shirt.
“You didn’t finish your apple.” He whispers. Katsuki should eat something more nutritious.
“Hmm?” Katsuki doesn’t lift his head from Shouto’s shoulder.
“I said, you didn’t finish your apple.”
“You c’n have ‘t.” Katsuki mumbles.
Shouto takes two pieces and chews them slowly, trying not to make too much noise right next to Katsuki’s ear. “I think you’d be more comfortable sleeping in a bed.” He says, once he’s swallowed the fruit.
Katsuki does lift his head, blinking at him tiredly. His cheek is red where it had been pressed against Shouto’s shirt. “Can we go to the nest instead?”
“Yeah.” Shouto says. He tests his luck by brushing his thumb against Katsuki’s cheek, trying to wipe away the redness there.
Katsuki gives him his permission by leaning into the touch.
Shouto feels like the luckiest beta in the world right now. He knows for a fact that Katsuki would never let anyone else touch him like this. He knows it’s just the impact of his heat, of a hard few days spent looking after himself when he barely had the energy for it. Tomorrow Katsuki will go back to being headstrong and mostly independent. But, for now, he’s letting Shouto look after him.
Shouto refuses to mess this up.
He thinks —he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but— he thinks maybe if he does a good job, Katsuki will let him do this again next time.
“Come on then,” Shouto says quietly. He shakes Katsuki lightly to get his attention, and after a long sigh, Katsuki pushes himself up and follows Shouto into the livingroom with one hand still tangled in the back of his shirt.
They walk past seventeen alphas, and when Katsuki spots two of them in the class nest, he flicks his fingers and barks out one word.
Shouto watches with delight as the two alphas scurry out of their way.
Katsuki pushes him into the nest and then climbs on top of him, rearranging Shouto’s limbs however he sees fit. He feels seventeen sets of eyes on him when Katsuki stops fussing and rests his head on Shouto’s thigh, curled up so his knees knocks against Shouto’s shoulder.
Shouto reaches one hand out, pushing soft blonde spikes away from Katsuki’s face.
The omega allows it, but his face quickly sours, and he turns his attention to the rest of the room’s occupants. “Stop threatening him with your pheromones!” Katsuki snaps. “He can’t even smell them.”
Shouto blinks at him, startled.
The glaring is one thing, but knowing that they’re silently threatening him is surprisingly validating.
They see him as competition .
Shouto doesn’t realise he’s smiling until Katsuki smacks him in the mouth. It stings, a little but it’s not enough to stop the smug pull at his lips.
He can’t wait for Izuku to return so he can tell him all about this.