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Chapter Text

Katsuki rolls his shoulders as he unbuckles his gauntlets and places them into their case. It was good of the agency to send cars and gear out to the site in the aftermath of the villain attack. Katsuki’s internship shift was supposed to be over more than an hour ago and Katsuki is very much looking forward to getting back to the dorms, and having a fast shower and a decent soak before bed.

“Mister Dynamight-!”

Katsuki feels his brow crinkle as he discards his second gauntlet. He pulls a hand through his hair, huffing through his nose as he turns on the reporter directly behind him who has managed to slip through the loose mess of police officers and caution tape, complete with their camera operator in tow.

“Mister Dynamight! Could you tell us more about your role in the take-down of the villain group apprehended today?”

“They were a bunch of idiots, thinking they could out run us.”

“It looked like you were given quite the run for your money though.”

“Bastard was fucking fire-proof,” Katsuki growls. “Still got ‘em. They’re locked up, and everyone else is a bit safer now.”

“And how do you think your status as a beta affected your performance today?”

Katsuki goes still. His nostrils flare, picking up on the scents of the reporter and their camera-person – a beta and an omega, mated, but not to each other, one curious, one supercilious – and he locks his jaw to keep from snapping a response. It works, but only for a brief moment, because the reporter cannot keep their mouth shut.

“You must be aware of the fact that though roughly half the population are betas, they make up less than four percent of the roster of Pro-Heros, not only in Japan but across the world?”

“Yes. Basic demographics are actually covered by the syllabus at UA,” he snarls out.

“Betas are generally considered to be less driven than omegas and alphas, do you think this will affect your Pro success and capture rates after graduation?”

“Do I think being a beta is going to make me less of a Pro Hero? Do you even hear yourself- you whiny, little, Extra, piece-of-shi-”

“Hey Baku-bro!” Kirishima practically crashes into Katsuki’s side, a mass of alpha muscle exuding sunshine and lollipop happiness. “Did you see Bakugo take down that guy? That was godsdamn beautiful. So manly!” Kirishima touches his knuckles together, beaming his dazzling smile at the reporter. “It’s always so cool to get to work with him, but now, we’ve gotta go debrief! Thanks for stopping by!”

They literally have nowhere to be, but Katsuki walks with his friend away from the agency car and the reporter until they are out of earshot of anyone who might give a damn. The police, medics, and clean-up crews are way too busy to be bothered with a bunch of interns.

“Bakugo? You OK?”

“Fucking fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You looked like you were gonna shred that reporter, bro.”

“They were a douche-bag! As if something as meaningless as biology is gonna stop me from being number one.”

“It’s alright bro. We all know you’re the best. Don’t sweat it about the reporter, they just want soundbites to fill their opinion pieces with. Let them get it from somewhere else, after all…” Kirishima's sentence trails off into nothing, and Katsuki frowns. He doesn't normally mind when his best friend stops talking for more than five seconds – it’s a rare occurrence after all – but it’s odd for Kirishima not to finish speaking like that.

Katsuki inhales deeply, and Kirishima's scent hits him like a battering ram.

Kirishima naturally rich umami scent is awash with adrenaline and satisfaction from the successful assist he made in apprehending the villain group who had been making more than a nuisance of themselves to commuters wearing skirts on the metro in this prefecture. He should be pleased with himself but lain over the top of that, Kirishima’s scent is all sunset colours. When Katsuki looks properly he finds Kirishima staring across the street with the most wistful, hopeful expression on his face that Katsuki has ever seen outside of a shounen-ai manga.

He follows the alpha's gaze, and his eyebrow twitches.

Deku is standing on the other side of this section of the carnage, in his stupid bunny jumpsuit which somehow passes for a Hero costume, talking to a reporter. It is not the same reporter Katsuki still wants to murder, and Katsuki is pleased at least to see that they are still respectfully on the other side of the police barrier. Deku lifts a gloves hand to rub at the back of his neck, blushing like he does when he gets flustered, and trying – and failing – not to smile like he swallowed to godsdamn sun.

Katsuki is well aware that his childhood best friend turned favourite rival is widely considered to be the most beautiful and most powerful omega in the up-and-coming ranks of future Pro Heroes. But that’s still no excuse for Kirishima to be standing next to him emitting pheromones like a fucking hosepipe.

Katsuki jabs Kirishima hard in the ribs with an elbow.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Huh?”

“You smell like a fucking teenager.” Katsuki wrinkles his nose in displeasure. He actually quite likes Kirishima’s savoury barbecue scent, but that’s not important right now. “Get it under control.”

“Sorry Baku-bro.” Kirishima stretches, finally removing his head gear before popping his jaw. It is an unholy noise. “We should get going, it’s not very manly of me to hold you up.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, especially when I could be sleeping.”

“Of course! Which way do you think we should go back to the dorms?”

Katsuki slaps his friend upside the head and pushes him into the agency car. Sometimes he cannot believe he is voluntarily friends with this moron.

***

In Katsuki’s – entirely correct – opinion; running, yoga, and swimming are all best practised in solitude, or as close to solitude as it is possible to achieve in the UA gym complex. But these days he will admit to the fact that weight and strength training is better with company. And Deku is one of the few people who can keep up and push Katsuki to improve.

Aizawa doesn’t like them pushing each other too hard, but they have All-Might’s blessing, as long as they don’t activate their Quirks in the gym. And Katsuki doesn’t need to explode anything to best Deku’s weight with a barbell.

“How are the gloves?” Deku asks him, knees nearly on either side of Katsuki’s head, fingers at the ready to catch the barbell should it fall.

“Good,” Katsuki huffs out as he lifts a clean one-fifty over his head, well-practiced now at resisting the urge to lock his elbows when he reaches maximum height. “Hatsume did a good job.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Deku asks, only a little slyly.

“Nah. Your praise goes to her head quite enough.” Katsuki lowers the weight back to his chest and inhales again. “How many is that?”

There is no answer.

“Deku?”

“Hmmm?”

Katsuki frowns up at his sort-of-friend, sort-of-rival and his next breath gives him a dose of Deku’s fresh, pine-green scent. But it smells like the forest is on fire.

“OI! Freckles!”

Deku’s attention snaps back to Katsuki below him, and he misreads Katsuki’s scowl and takes the bar, racking it even though Katsuki was only halfway through his lift.

“We’re you even fucking counting? Useless Deku.”

“Oh, s-sorry Kacchan.” Deku’s cheeks go pink as Katsuki sits up and swivels around on the bench to face him. “I got distracted.”

“The fuck? By what?”

The gym is pretty busy at the moment – other third years from all classes, and a smattering of second years as well – but there’s no one here new or different, or using a Quirk which would instantly unlock Deku’s studious nerd habits. There’s nothing Katsuki can see which should be distracting Deku enough to lose focus on their workout, even if it isn’t his turn to lift.

Deku sighs, wistfully.

“Oh you know, pretty boys. The usual.”

“Huh?” Katsuki scowls, confused, but Deku is still glancing up from under his curls and those ridiculously long eyelashes at someone across the room from them. “Do you wanna lift or not, Freckles?”

“OK, Kacchan.”

Deku slings a leg over the bench, his gym shorts riding up to show a less tanned inch of freckled thigh, and Katsuki steps around to stand above his head, flexing the material of his special sweat-proof compression gloves between his fingers as he cups the bar loosely.

“Is he watching?” Deku asks, eyes bright and hopeful.

“What? Is who watching?”

“Kirishima!” Deku hisses.

Katsuki arches an eyebrow and scowls across the gym. Kirishima and his metallic B-lister friend are over by the rowing machines, flexing at each other. Katsuki snorts derisively. Kirishima is such a fucking peacock in the gym, and Katsuki refuses to work out with him when he wears his stupid alpha-brand training gear. Today’s get up is a bright yellow leotard with ‘WORK HARD PLAY HARD’ emblazoned across the chest, and a pair of skin tight dark purple shorts underneath. He looks like a walking advert for everything an alpha should be, and Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“The fuck would you want Kirishima to be looking at you for Deku?”

Deku frowns up at him, cute little omega fangs worrying his lower lip. His scent darkens, a cold note of worry creeping into the burning pine, like an oil slick which won’t catch light. Then he huffs softly, and lifts the barbell.

“Nevermind. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Deku…”

“It doesn’t matter, Kacchan.”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose at the sourness in Deku’s scent.

“Is this a sex thing?”

“Oh my gods, Kacchan!”

“I was just asking. Tch. Nerd. You want him to watch you, you’d better do something impressive.”

“Kacchan?”

“You wanna throw the medicine ball around instead?”

Deku’s scent picks up instantly, even quicker than his bright smile – which is impressive all by itself – and by the time Deku is up and crossing the gym, he smells like fresh spring growth and his eyes are sparkling. Deku picks the forty-kilo ball for them, and Katsuki stands on the opposite side of the training mat with his knees apart and opens out his hands.

“C’mon Deku! Hit me!”

Deku tosses the ball, the muscles in his core tensing, arms taught, and the ball arcs through the air with astonishing speed. Katsuki bites the air when he smiles, because this is his favourite thing about training with Deku: the push and pull, the fight, the challenge. The ball flies right for him and Katsuki rises to meet it, knowing the force is going to try and push him into the mat.

The impact hurts – all that force colliding with his inner forearms and lower abdomen, but it’s good too. The burn which follows as Katsuki sends it flying back is different from the ache which accompanies the overuse of his Quirk, and Katsuki grunts with the effort and enjoys feeling himself get stronger.

“Is that all you’ve got, Kacchan?” Deku teases.

Katsuki pauses in the act of snarling, because as he watches Deku adjust his position, he realises the freckled nerd isn’t actually looking at him. A quick glance behind shows Kirishima nearby, stretching obscenely on the mats. Not that is it possible for the big alpha to be anything other than obscene in that outfit. Katsuki meets his eye, and Kirishima glances away rapidly. Katsuki smirks, and turns his attention back to the medicine ball heading for his face.

“You want something more challenging Deku?” Katsuki turns, putting his back to Kirishima, and braces his feet shoulder width apart. “Alright. Catch!”

It takes a lot of work to send the medicine ball up, but Katsuki hasn’t spent thousands of hours on core and upper body strength training for nothing, and the weighted ball goes high as it spins. But the spin gives direction, and Katsuki hasn’t thrown it straight up, because the ball is tipping backwards, away from Deku.

Katsuki has been putting effort and time into his upper body, but Deku has been working on those fucking hench thighs of his, and Katsuki seems the moments Deku is suddenly sprinting. His legs eat up the distance, streaking right under Katsuki’s raised arms, aiming for the ball which is falling down, its trajectory taking it right down on top of Kirishima.

Katsuki gloats silently; gods his aim is good.

“I got it!” Deku cries as he wraps himself around the falling medicine ball, only a fraction of second before he and the ball, carried by their combined momentum, go ploughing into Kirishima, knocking him flat.

Katsuki strolls over, thumbs hooked in his pockets, gloating at the tangle of limbs and hair and Deku’s blushing stutter.

“Oh my gods Kirishima, I’m so sorry. Are you OK, you’re not hurt are you- I mean I know your Quirk protects you loads but still it wasn’t polite of me to crash into you like that. Kacchan throws really hard and it’s so cool to get to train with him and keep up- and he’s really been helping me to push further an get more plus ultra with my workouts and-”

“Shut the fuck up, Freckles.” Katsuki cuts Deku off mid-flow, hopefully before the nerd hyperventilates. “S’up Kiri?”

“Oh, hey Baku-bro.” Kirishima doesn’t even look at him, because apparently Deku’s stupid green head is very fascinating as he fumbles at extracting himself and medicine ball from Kirishima's lap.

Katsuki sniffs, and sure enough, Kirishima smells exactly like he did before – charcoal barbecue at sunset -

“Enjoying the show, Red?”

Kirishima meets his eyes this time, his cheeks pink.

“Very much.”

Deku finally pulls himself upright, and shoves the medicine ball at Katsuki. A moment later he appears to think better of it, and tries to snatch it back. He lets out a little ‘oof’ as he apparently hits himself somewhere soft and sensitive. Katsuki sneers: Deku smells like he’s on fire again.

“Shower?”

“Wha-”

“Huh?”

Katsuki glances from Deku to Kirishima and back again, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring at their matching pink faces and red scents. They smell good together. Compatible.

Well, isn’t that interesting.

***

Two days later, Katsuki excuses himself from the cafeteria with a grunt, certain that Deku is fully entranced with the conversation he is having with Kaminari, about fucking Pokemon of all things. He makes his way back up to the classroom and thumps down into the chair opposite Uraraka, turns to her and kicks his ankle up onto his opposite knee.

“Bakugo.” Uraraka arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t otherwise react. They are alone in the classroom and Uraraka is painting her nails with precise smooth motions, and Katsuki is pretty sure Ashido has gone to get lunch for the pair of them, because alpha girls are cute as fuck like that.

Katsuki sees no point in dithering. He’s here for a reason after all.

“If you know that two people like each other, are you ... fuck. Morally obligated to do something about it?”

Uraraka glances up from her nails – they are pink, the ring finger sparkly yellow, and Uraraka is tipping each one with a black swipe – and frowns at him.

“OK Bakugo, what’s going on? Did you just come to me with an ethical conundrum?” Uraraka’s natural scent is sweet and floral – unusual for an alpha – but laced with sharp citrus as she narrows her eyes. “Who are you, and what have you done with blasty-boy?”

“Oh, fuck off then.” Katsuki folds his arms over his chest and makes to turn away, but Uraraka catches the leg of his chair with one foot and tugs him closer.

“Nu-uh, you’re not getting off that easy. Spill.”

Katsuki spends ten heartbeats snarling soundlessly in his own head, then continues on.

“Fine. So like, hypothetically... I have a friend, and he definitely likes my other friend.”

“This would require you to have actual friends,” Uraraka teases. She gives him a look like she doesn't believe him at all.

“Seriously, I'm not talking about me! Fucking hell, you're no help at all.”

“Hey ‘Chako are you- oh, we have company.” Ashido settles down in front of Uraraka’s desk and turns her chair so that they can share the double portion on the single tray that Ashido brought with her. “Hey Baku-bro.”

“Pinky,” Katsuki says gruffly, reaching over the gap between desks to steal a salmon stuffed onigiri.

“Oi-!” Uraraka yelps, but Ashido jumps to her feet and growls, a deep noise rumbling in her chest, her fangs clenched. Katsuki spares her a glance, and shrugs, biting into the rice ball with a smirk.

There a is along moment of one-sided tension, and then Ashido sighs heavily, the alpha-growl dying in her throat.

“I hate that that doesn’t effect you. It’s such a cheat.” She slumps into her chair, takes up another onigiri, and leans across to tap it in salute against Katsuki’s half eaten one. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Bakugo has a crush,” Uraraka sing songs.

“No I fucking don't! I don't do that shit.”

“Asexual people can still have crushes you know,” Uraraka replies smugly.

Katsuki snarls. He doesn’t make the same kind of noise an alpha does, his growl is all teeth and actual viciousness, rather than aeons-old instinct.

“Do not fucking alpha-splain my own sexuality to me, or I swear I will Howitzer you right fucking here.” Katsuki glares at them both, then takes a deep calming breath. Ashido’s scent is sticky and hot, like molasses and plum vinegar. It blends nicely with Uraraka’s: a lot like Deku’s fresh green pine goes well with Kirishima’s umami. He exhales slowly.

Even after two whole years, Katsuki fucking hates therapy. He doesn’t have to go as often any more – because he fucking aced his way through anger management one, two, and three after he set his mind to it – but he can’t deny that it is effective. Once upon a time, he’d have just blown up the lunches and half the classroom and stormed off.

Now Katsuki unclenches his jaw and sighs.

“I do not have a crush. I’m talking about the idiots.”

“Blasty,” Ashido says, smiling, “you're going to need to be more specific.”

“You think everyone is an idiot,” Uraraka amends.

“And I’m still not wrong about you,” Katsuki snaps back. “I mean Hair for Brains and the Nerd.”

“Kirishima and Midoriya? Awww, they'd make such a cute couple.”

“You think they like each other?” Ashido queries.

“They make fucking heart eyes at the each other all the time, and I'm ace, not nose-blind. Fucking pheromones.” Katsuki pauses. “So, you think I should tell them?”

Ashido and Uraraka share a look, and Katsuki isn't entirely sure of, or completely comfortable with whatever the two girls said to each other without words. Alphas are weird when they get together. But then Ashido shrugs and Uraraka smiles happily they both nod in perfect, creepy unison.

“Sure,” Ochako says eventually. “You should tell them. At least it will get them to leave you alone, like you claim you always want.”

Chapter Text

“Oi! Nerd!”

Izuku abandons his planned route and heads towards the dormitory kitchen with a happy smile.

“Hi Kacchan!”

“I am literally right here, Freckles. You don’t have to shout.” Kacchan retorts. “Pass the mirin.”

“Sorry Kacchan. Here.” Izuku steps forwards, leaning around Kacchan’s shoulder to try and glimpse what is happening in the wok, but the beta is too broad and too quick, and shoves him off. “Mean, Kacchan.”

“Tch. You should know better than to spy, Deku. You’ll get it when it’s ready.”

Izuku brightens instantly. He knows it is sort of ridiculous, to be so obviously enthralled by his childhood friend’s emotions that he has to bite down a trill every time Kacchan says something nice to him, but Izuku can’t help it. It’s Kacchan, and that’s just how the world is.

“You’re going to feed me?”

“Only if you’re good. Sit.”

Izuku does as he is bid, and perches on the far end of the countertop, away from Kacchan’s chopping boards and knives. Beside him, the rice cooker hums gently, a soft counterpart to the sharp and familiar sounds of Kacchan moving around in the kitchen. Izuku watches, because watching Kacchan is as much a familiar second nature as breathing is.

“When’s your next heat, Freckles?”

“Huh? Not until next month.” Izuku frowns at the back of Kacchan's head, fingers itching – as they always do – to comb through his fluffy blond spikes.

It’s odd for Kacchan to ask, unless he is trying to plan some kind of extra training session for them – which is a very exciting prospect. Generally, his childhood friend ignores not only Izuku’s secondary gender, but everyone else’s too. It makes sense – because he is a beta and largely unaffected by the hormones and instincts Izuku’s hindbrain is controlled by – and Kacchan’s sudden interest makes Izuku’s secondary-senses sit up and take notice.

“Really? Then why do you smell like a horny teenager?”

“Kacchan!”

“Tch. You should invite Kirishima to join you.”

“Join me? What, like for training?” Izuku smiles, the idea is not without merit. Somehow, he and Kirishima have hardly spent anytime training together, outside of actual school sessions. Kirishima would make a great sparring partner because both with and without his Quirk, he has great resilience. No one can take a hit and keep their feet like Kirishima. Izuku has to wonder why he never thought of asking their friend to join them for training before-

“Oh dear gods! Stupid fucking Deku!” Kacchan pinches his cheek and pulls hard.

“Kacchan!” Izuku tries to bat him away, without any effect, because he has never been able to put up a decent defence against Kacchan unless they were both actively trying to beat the living shit out of each other.

“You’re so dense, Deku! I’m not talking about training.” Kacchan turns back to the stove and bangs his pans about in a way that Izuku knows is Kacchan for ‘I am frustrated and I hate having to use words’ before turning back to him. “Damn mutterer. You should invite Kirishima to share your heat you moron.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku shrieks. “I can’t just- you shouldn’t say- keep your voice down-!”

“Why, you think he hasn’t been sniffing after you like a moon-sick puppy for the past, like, year?”

“Kacchan!” Izuku gasps again, but this time it comes out more like a whine. Izuku ducks away, but Kacchan is fast – always has been – and very quickly pins him where he sits, with a hand on either side of Izuku's hips, strong thighs caging Izuku's knees, and growling in his face.

“I know what you’re like during your heat, Deku. Fucking insufferable. Always whimpering and wanting cuddles like the needy little shit you are. And you steal all my fucking clothes for your damn nest even though I’m not your alpha.”

“But Kacchan smells so good,” Izuku beseeches.

“Fucking silly omega. I don’t have a scent and you know it.”

“That’s-”

“Look, idiot.” Katsuki flicks his forehead. “Kirishima likes you, and I know you like him because you fucking told me you did. You’re and omega and he’s an alpha. I really shouldn’t have to spell this out for you, because you got eighty-nine percent in the last biology test.”

“K-Kacchan wants me to d-d-date Kirishima?”

“Date, fuck, whatever. Yeah.”

“But he’s your best friend?”

“And you’re my best… nerd. I dunno.” Kacchan shrugs, like an open compliment from him isn’t still one of the rarest things in the known universe. “Make it work, Freckles. Come on, food’s ready.”

“Um-” Izuku makes to reach for one of the bowls Kacchan is holding, steaming gently and smelling of ginger and garlic and so many other good things, but Katsuki just elbows him off the surface.

“After you, short stack.”

Izuku frowns. His whole life – or so it seems – he has been following after Kacchan, and though they stand beside each other now as equals in their chosen field, it stills makes something in Izuku’s hindbrain twitch to be invited to walk in front of Kacchan. It’s not that he’s suspicious exactly, but-

“Waa- chan!” Izuku flails helpless as he is shoved by his friend, all limbs swinging wildly, all sense of poise and balance abandoning him as he falls. He falls onto something – someone – who goes ‘oof’ in his ear causing Izuku to blush all the way from the tips of his ears down to his chest. He tries to sit up without putting his hands anywhere too embarrassing, for either himself or Kirishima.

“Oh, hi Midoriya,” Kirishima says brightly, as though he hasn’t suddenly been greeted with a lap-full of squirmy omega. “Hey Baku-bro.”

“Oi- take this would you.” Kacchan jerks the bowl in his hand, and Kirishima accepts it with a grateful smile and a happy rumble in his chest which Izuku feels through his side where they are pressed together still.

“Freckles! Take the fucking food!”

“Sorry, Kacchan. Thank you, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbles into his shogayaki don.

“Tch.” Katsuki glares at them both, then shoves his hands in his pockets and stomps off.

“Oh,” Kirishima sounds confused, his scent tinged with disappointment. “Is he not eating with us?”

“Apparently not.” Izuku tries once more to extract himself from Kirishima's lap, and fails because he doesn’t want to spill his food. Food made by Kacchan is always the best. Kirishima grunts, then wraps a massive arm around Izuku's waist and tugs him more firmly into his lap until they are both more comfortable. Izuku is fairly certain his blush cannot actually get any brighter – he must be radiating heat like Kacchan’s palms by now.

“It was nice of him to feed us though,” Kirishima purrs.

“Yes,” Izuku agrees softly, forcing his words not to come out a stuttered, mumbled mess. His scent is bubbling up enough as it is, and Izuku can barely pick up Kirishima’s smell for the wreath of pine which surrounds him. “Kacchan is very kind.”

Kirishima snorts in his ear, an aborted laugh, and Izuku trills into his bowl.

“So, any ideas why Baku-bro decided that not one of the chairs in here were good enough for you, Midoriya?”

Izuku tries desperately to finger comb his curls over his face – even though his back is mostly to Kirishima – because he knows exactly why Katsuki made him sit here. Kirishima might have a reputation as not the smartest guy in their class, but no one is that nose-blind.

“He- um… said something in the kitchen,” Izuku manages. “Are you sure it’s alright if I sit here Kirishima?”

“Yes.” Kirishima’s voice is low and warm, and when he sets his bowl down – empty, when exactly did he have time to eat that? – his wrist brushes against the fold of Izuku’s shirt sleeve. The action releases a puff of scent – strong and rich and savoury – and suddenly the lure of Kacchan’s cooking seems pallid by comparison. “It is very comfortable.”

Izuku squirms and bites at his lower lip, trying not to focus on the warmth and width of Kirishima's thighs under his arse, even as his brain catalogues each and every point of contact. Kacchan must be watching from somewhere and this must be an elaborate joke of some kind. But Izuku cannot tear his eyes away from the sight of Kirishima’s big hand lying so casually alongside his thigh in order to check his comfort, because Kirishima’s wrist gland is right there and exposed and leaking enticing aromas which make Izuku want to drool.

“Kirishima?”

“Yes, Midoriya?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Kirishima chuffs, and the vibration it sends up Izuku spine make him trill once again.

“Yes please. I would like that very much.”

***

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” Kacchan glares at him from across his homework. “Why the fuck would you need me to come with you?”

Izuku picks at his fingertips in the doorway until he sees Kacchan scowl at him, and then he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He knows it angers the beta when he fiddles.

“Out with it Freckles! What the heck is going on?”

“I don’t wanna mess up.”

Kacchan rolls his eyes so hard that for a moment Izuku is worried he’s actually going to hurt himself.

“You see the guy every damn day – and he doesn’t wear a shirt most of the time – what could possibly go wrong?”

Izuku claps both hands over his face, which at least precludes Kacchan from pinching his cheek again.

“I could say literally any of that?! Kacchan seriously. I see Kirishima every single day and he never wears and shirt and he smells like a summer barbecue and if I screw this up I have to keep seeing him every day, with no shirt on and no dignity left.”

“Deku, you ran out of dignity back in first year when you cried because Todoroki brought you a cup of tea when you were thirsty.”

“Kacchan! That’s not fair!”

“Doesn’t have to be when it’s true.” Kacchan lets out a heavy sigh and his subtle beta-scent rolls across Izuku like a wave. Izuku relaxes into it – like he always has – and clings tighter to the idea that he needs to have Kacchan there when he and Kirishima go on their first date.

“I need you there, Kacchan. Please?” Izuku looks up at him from over the tips of his finger when he emerges from behind his hands. “Please?”

Kacchan glares at him, but there isn’t any real heat to it, not like there used to be back in middle school. Izuku whines, a thin noise issuing from his throat along with a burst of fresh pine, and Kacchan huffs.

“Oh gods. Don’t do the omega eyes at me. It doesn’t fucking work, Freckles.”

“But Kacchan…”

“Urgh! FINE!” Kacchan kicks back from his desk and snarls as he stands. “Where are we going on this fucking date of yours?”

“The gym!” Izuku chirrups happily.

He expects the tackle from Kacchan, but that doesn’t make him quick enough to escape it. Kacchan rubs through Izuku’s curls with sharp and pointy knuckles until Izuku screeches loudly enough to force him off.

“Kacchan! Why?”

“Because I can, Freckles. You two better not stink the place up, or I will bail.” Kacchan releases him, but Izuku does not step away from the not-quite-burnt caramel scent of his childhood friend. “So, when is this date?”

Kirishima half walks through the door as he knocks on it, a shirt held up in either hand and nothing on his lower half but a pair of neon pink shorts which look like they were sprayed on.

“Hey Baku-bro, which of these should I- oh, hey Midoriya.” Kirishima doesn’t seem at all perturbed to find Izuku in the room next door. He lounges in the doorway, his scent as enticing as a fresh home-cooked dinner, and he offers up the two shirts with a flash of his smooth and ever so delicious looking wrists to Izuku. “I was picking first date clothes. Which one is better?”

Izuku knows his gulp is audible. His ears are so hot he thinks he might set fire to his hair.

“If you wear the ‘suns out guns out’ one, I am not being seen with you in public,” Kacchan snaps, without even looking up.

“Kacchan’s coming with us,” Izuku adds brightly. He winces afterwards, because how does it look to his crush that he’s super excited to have his childhood best friend joining them on their date? Kirishima’s grin only broadens.

“Really? Yeah bro! Super manly! Let’s go!”

***

Watching his crush and his Kacchan fight each other is simultaneously one of the most exhilarating and nerve-wracking things Izuku has ever seen. And the only thing that he wishes were different is that he’d brought a notebook and a pen on his date.

They aren’t fighting like they do for school. This is closer and more personal somehow, and not just because neither of them are using Quirks. Kacchan’s grin is a feral, delighted twist as he slinks out of Kirishima’s hold, spinning away only to rejoin with an elegant high kick. Kirishima takes hits like a mountain – not caring about the impact, storing the force – but then he attacks like a rock slide. The crack of his knuckles against Kacchan’s palms is enough to jolt Izuku where he sits at the edge of the mat.

It’s like a dance, a wonderful, dangerous, extraordinary dance, and Izuku really wants to learn everything he can about the choreography.

“Kirishima has such reach, such long arms and he is so broad. But of course, he’s an alpha. All that power is so impressive, even without a genetic predisposition to being a heavy hitter. I wonder how his same Quirk would manifest with a different presentation. Maybe I should ask him and Tetsutetsu if they know any omegas with hardening Quirks. What if Fat Gum’s Quirk is almost like a reverse of Kirishima’s hardening? I definitely need to look that up, because he can absorb immense impacts so maybe there are omegas with almost… softening Quirks, and wouldn’t it be fascinating to observe the differences and-”

“Oh my fucking gods Freckles, will you ever shut up?” Kacchan’s words barely filter through Izuku’s muttering before he feels the beta’s strong hand hold around the back of his neck – the pad of one strong thumb and two forefingers directly over his scent glands – and he is scruffed.

“Ka-” But Izuku cannot finish the word, because all his joints have gone lax and loose, and it feels like his brain has been shrouded in soft wool, just enough to stop the thoughts which race constantly around and around sparking new ideas and tangents down which he can travel for hours without stopping. It feels good.

“Baku-bro! What the hell did you just do bro?”

“Don’t know any better way to shut him up. He’ll be fine.” Kacchan thumps down onto the mat beside Izuku and uses his hair to pull Izuku's head over so that he is pillowed on Kacchan's shoulder.

“But-” Izuku’s vision swims with a haze of red and sharp teeth as Kirishima crouches down in the front of him and comes close. A giant hand cradles his face, scent glad so close to his lips, and Izuku trills. “Midoriya? Are you OK?”

“Tch, even I can tell he wants you to call him by his damn name. He’s fine, quit worrying, Shitty Hair.”

“Baku-bro, you scruffed my date. We haven’t even kissed yet. Not manly bro.”

“’s ok Kiri…” Izuku mumbles as soon as he’s sure he can connect the speech centre of his brain, his vocal chords, and his mouth together in a single line. “Kacchan’s always…” he trails off, tries to grab at Kiri’s hand but just ends up flailing uselessly until Kirishima grabs him and laces their fingers together. Izuku smiles. “… Since we were pups,” he slurrs.

“Fuck, you reek of pheromones, Freckles.” Kacchan pushes Izuku off his shoulder and into Kirishima’s front – again. “He is officially your problem now, Kiri.”

With the beta no longer touching him, the frail, tender bond created by the scruff vanishes, and Izuku pops his jaw as he yawns, re-settling his sense of self into his bones. He sighs deeply, content, then turns to nuzzle Kirishima’s throat.

Not directly over a gland – that would be way too intimate – but Kirishima blushes all the way down his chest and into his shirt collar in a delightful manner.

“You looked great fighting, Kiri.”

“Really?”

“Mmmm… Kacchan’s right you know-”

“-I always fucking am,” Kacchan interrupts.

“-I would like you to call me Izuku.”

“Oh.” Kirishima sounds surprised, but his scent has become pleased; rich orangey tones and a salty tang, like ponzu sauce flavouring the air around them. “I- I’d like that too, Mi- I mean- Izuku.”

Izuku trills – softly, quietly – but undeniably there, and then Kacchan cuts through the moment by snorting at them both.

“Well, I’m out.”

“You’re going?” Izuku sits up in surprise as Kacchan bounces to his feet, and it is only the vibrations of Kirishima's chest under his hand which make him realise that the alpha spoke when he did as well.

“Yeah. You two stink of sex, so that’s my cue.” Kacchan gives Izuku a rare, sharp-toothed, lopsided grin. “Good first date boys, carry on without me.”

Izuku opens his mouth to say something, but he’s really not sure what it is. How can he ask Kacchan to stay when he’s half sitting in Kirishima’s lap and has absolutely no desire to leave it? It’s not like he can expect Kacchan to just sit there so he and Kirishima can make out. And how does Kirishima feels about the fact that Izuku is quite clearly watching Kacchan leave, smelling all wistful like a woodland breeze?

The gym door slams behind Kacchan, and Izuku inhales a steadying breath and half turns to meet Kirishima’s scarlet gaze.

“Hey.”

“Hi…” Kirishima pauses, brow wrinkling, and Izuku’s eyes track over the pale crinkle created by his scar. “Is this really a good first date?”

“I think so. Did you have fun Kirishima? I did. It was really cool getting to watch you and Kacchan fight, and you’re such a good trainer too – I’ve never gotten a reach like that on the rowing machines before!”

“Um, thanks Izuku.” Kirishima blushes when he speaks, dragging one hair through the fluffy mess of his fallen spikes. Izuku would love to touch them, because he doesn’t see Kirishima with his hair down often and it looks so tactile. “So… you can call me Eijiro too – only if you want to!”

“I want to.” Izuku beams. “Thank you, Eijiro.”

Kirishima leans back on his elbows, and the movement forces Izuku to sprawl over his chest, knees denting the matt on either side of Kirishima’s thighs. It’s probably – OK, definitely – considered an indelicate position, but Kirishima is still smiling at him, and Izuku places his chin in his hands and gazes up at the alpha. This is actually really comfortable, and Izuku has an unrivalled view of Kirishima's decadent abs and pecs. Watching them whilst he breathes is intoxicating even without Kirishima’s lovely scent.

“Are you sure you’re OK, you know, after the-?” Kirishima gestures vaguely to the back of his own neck, and Izuku raises a hand to brush over the scent glands which have relaxed, now that Kacchan’s scruffing is over.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Kacchan has always scruffed me like that.”

“Really?” Kirishima looks extremely shocked, and his scent is creeping from umami into sour. Izuku can taste the notes of rejection coming from the alpha.

“Oh Eijiro! Not like that!” Izuku maintains eye contact, which takes actual concentration with an alpha as overwhelming beautiful as Kirishima is. “We did it to each other when we were pups, like, before kindergarten even. Way, way, before either of us ever presented or got Quirks.”

“Well I mean like, I’ve seen parents scruff little kids, but-”

“When you stop being a kid, it starts meaning something different?” Izuku finishes for him. Kirishima nods in agreement. “Yeah, I guess it does. For most people at least. But I don’t think Kacchan actually knows that. He doesn’t- I mean Kacchan’s asexual and I just don’t think he feels it like I do.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

This time, it’s Izuku's turn to arch a sceptical eyebrow.

“Have you ever tried to tell Kacchan something he either didn’t want to hear, or didn’t think was important? Yeah, it went about as well as you could expect.” Izuku shrugs again. “After we became friends again in first year, I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. And he likes that he can just switch me off when I get too stuck in my own head.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s Kacchan,” Izuku answers, as though this explains everything. It’s not until after he’s spoken that he takes another breath, and realises just how unhappy his words have made Kirishima. His date no longer smells lik ea charcoal barbecue on a hot summer’s day, but a bucket of cold water dumped over ashes. “Eijiro?”

Kirishima screws his eyes shut as he turns his face away, and now the tension which runs through his core is no longer sexy, but troubling. An upset alpha is a bad thing anyway, an upset friend is terrible, but both these things on a date is a tragedy. Izuku bites his own lip, knowing he is about ten seconds away from crying just because he’s made his crush unhappy.

But he doesn’t want to be accused of using omega tears to get his own way.

“Talk to me Eijiro. Please?”

Kirishima takes a deep breath, and Izuku wonders if his own scent is as troubled as it feels, or if he’s leaking comforting, soothing pheromones to try and placate the alpha’s worries. He isn’t sure which is the better option for having a frank conversation about honest feeling though.

“DoyouactuallylikemeoramIjustausufulalphabecauseyoucan’thaveBakugo?”

Izuku blinks, twice. Wow, is that what he sounds like when he talks too fast? It’s no wonder Ochako and Todoroki are always asking him to slow down when he gets overexcited.

“Run that by me again please, Eijiro?”

“Do you like me?” Kirishima barks. He looks guilty though, so it probably came out harsher than he meant it to.

“Yes!”

“I’m not just… a replacement for Bakugo? Like, because I’m an alpha and I’m…” Kirishima frowns, like he’s thinking hard. “What’s the opposite of asexual?”

“Allo. And no Eijiro. You’re not a stand-in for Kacchan.” Izuku offers the alpha a half smile. No one could ever be a replacement for Kacchan, but he’s not sure that’s a useful or reassuring thing to say right now. “I like you for you. I like Kacchan because… he’s Kacchan. He’s literally always been there and I admire him so much, but I like you because of who you are.”

“Yeah?” Kirishima's scent is duller now, no longer turning foul, and there is a small, soft waft of savoury heat. A promise of better things. He believes Izuku, and Izuku preens softly, thrilled to be so trusted.

“Yes Eijiro. You are so cool and manly, and no one smiles like you do! You’re going to be an awesome Hero soon, and you’re a good friend – not just to me, to everyone. You don’t give up on anyone, and I like that. And-” Suddenly Izuku blushes, heat creeping over his cheeks as he realises what he’s about to say whilst laying literally on top of his date. “-you’re really hot.”

“You think I’m hot?” Kirishima grins, teeth flashing as both his body language and scent perk up. And that’s not the only thing.

Alphas are built big and their fashions do nothing to disguise it. And Kirishima is clearly, obviously, an extremely goods specimen of his combined primary and secondary genders.

Izuku nods mutely, then presses his face into Kirishima's abs to hide his expression. Only on his next inhale does he realise what he’s just done, and jerks upright.

Kirishima splays a big hand over the small of his back, and Izuku doesn’t pull away.

“You’re really pretty Izuku. I’ve always thought so.”

“Really?”

“Mmmm… yes.”

Izuku knows he is blushing crimson now. It shouldn’t be a surprise – with the swirl of scent and pheromones all around them – but somehow the compliment still turns Izuku into a stuttering mess as he tries to smile at Kirishima and hide behind his hair simultaneously.

“I would like to date you Izuku. And… kiss you?”

“Yes please,” Izuku says, almost half hoping he cannot be heard.

But only half. Izuku bites his lip, squirming a little in Kirishima’s lap as his scent gets hotter and more subtly fresh – like aloe and flowers and springtime – and Izuku knows Kirishima can tell how turned on he is, even with his omega compression underwear. But Kirishima is a gentleman, and he doesn’t say a word as he cups Izuku’s cheek and strokes a thumb across his freckles. Izuku blinks up at him, watching as Kirishima’s eyes flick down to his lips and back again, and then down once more.

“Yes please,” he repeats softly, breathing the words into the tiny space left between them, and then closes the distance to press his mouth against Kirishima’s own.

It is a simple kiss, soft and dry and chaste, but Izuku’s hindbrain clicks as they slot together seamlessly, a purr kicking up in his chest at the contact, because everything about the alpha he is still half lying on top of, broadcasts adoration, security, protection, and strength. They part just far enough to inhale – their mingled scents like a smokehouse in the rainforest – and then Kirishima is crashing back into him, tongue slipping between Izuku’s lips, his whole demeanour suddenly charged with the alpha need to claim what he wants. Izuku wraps his arms around Kirishima’s neck and lets his purr build, kissing him back, revealing in how good it feels to have this alpha surrounding him like a shield.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Izuku happily loses himself in the sweet drag of Kirishima's tongue against his own, the slipperiness of Kirishima’s teeth and the plump give of his lips each time they press together. Kirishima’s hand stays on his cheek, the other at his waist, and Izuku indulges in weaving his fingers into Kirishima's red mane and scratching at his scalp. Each touch pulls forth a groan of need and pleasure from the alpha, and Izuku’s blood sings with how good it feels to be desired and trusted and wanted. Izuku lets his forearms drop onto Kirishima’s broad shoulders, and he feels it when his own wrist glands come to rest mere millimetres from the scent glands either side of Kirishima's nape.

He vibrates with the desire to rub his scent all over this alpha. Omega’s are no less possessive with their courting partners, and Izuku really wants his scent to follow Kirishima around. Kirishima bites very softly at Izuku’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and Izuku whines. He’s so hot and wet and he’s pretty sure his shirt is ninety-percent sweat and pheromones by now.

Izuku shifts in Kirishima’s lap, and Kirishima’s groan pitches suddenly deeper as he does so. Izuku makes an enquiring chirrup into their kiss, and Kirishima chuckles gently.

“You’re not the only one holding tight to their self-control, Izuku.”

Kirishima's words make Izuku moan, but before he can shuffle closer and feel exactly what it is Kirishima's alpha-brand gym gear is doing nothing to hide, he feels both of Kirishima's hands at his waist, anchoring him and pinning him in place.

“We’ve plenty of time for that. And we are still in the gym.”

Izuku whines in frustration, but he cuts the noise off, because it’s not fair to make Kirishima feel bad for being a gentleman.

“That was an amazing first kiss,” he manages breathily, moving so he can at least look at Kirishima's face without going cross eyed.

“Heck yeah it was.” Kirishima grins, soft and proud all at once. “I really like you, Izuku.”

“Thanks. I really like you too, Eijiro.”

“Mmmm. Good.” Kirishima leans in to kiss him again, but this time it stays sweet and soft, and Izuku lets out a little chirrup of happiness at being treated so tenderly. Kirishima plucks Izuku's hand from his shoulder and cradles it in both his own. Izuku starts chewing his lip again as the alpha runs broad blunt tipped fingers over his palm, then his scars, then all along the slightly crooked bones of his hand before stopping just shy of his wrist. “May I scent you?”

“Are we courting?”

“Yes please,” Kirishima replies instantly, eyes bright and hopeful. He is like the most earnest puppy imaginable.

“Then yes, please.” Izuku knows his own smile is megawatt bright as he lifts his hand, offering his upturned wrist to Kirishima. “Scent me, alpha.”

Chapter Text

All the way back from the gym to the dorms, Eijiro keeps lifting his wrist to his nose and inhaling his and Midoriya’s combined scent. They smell so good together.

And he gets to call Midoriya ‘Izuku’ now. Izuku. Because they are courting. Officially.

Eijiro takes another hit of the fresh hints of mint and pine lain over his own richer umami scent, and grins. It is intoxicating even though the omega’s hand is still held in Eijiro’s own, their forearms brushing together as they walk side by side. Every time Eijiro glances down at Midoriya’s green curls, he feels a surge of delight in his chest. He wants to wrap this lovely omega up in both arms and never let him go, even though he knows logically that Midoriya doesn’t need protecting and isn’t going to forget him if they don’t scent each other for five minutes.

It doesn’t stop Eijiro tightening his grip the moment they start up the steps into Heights Alliance though.

“Kiri-kun?”

Eijiro chuffs, loving the sound of his new nickname in his omega’s voice.

“We’re telling people, right?”

“Absolutely!” Eijiro enthuses, but then he pauses, tugging Midoriya back towards him. The other boy is standing on the second step, and the height increase puts them nearly at eye level. Eijiro grins, lifting his free hand to sit snugly on Midoriya's waist. The omega is beautifully warm and supple beneath his palm. “Can we tell Baku-bro first?”

“I think Kacchan probably already knows,” Midoriya reminds him.

“But he was my first friend here Izuku. And he’s your oldest friend.” Eijiro frowns, glancing down towards his feet.

To his surprise, Midoriya pokes him between the eyes with one calloused fingertip.

“Why so sad, Alpha?” Midoriya’s scent wafts sweet and comforting over him, and Eijiro can’t help but relax his muscles, leaning into the firm pressure of his omega’s finger on his face.

“Um… about Bakugo…” Eijiro takes a deep breath. It is manly to talk about your feelings, he reminds himself. Brave. “He’s my best friend. I really like him too.”

“Kiri-kun?” Izuku cocks his head to the side. It is adorable.

“I just… like being around him.” Eijiro admits quietly. “I like being around you too. Obviously.”

Izuku places a knuckle against his chin, tapping softly, and Eijiro stoops lower to try and make out his boyfriend’s – boyfriend! – muttering.

“Izuku?”

“Yes. Yes. We both want him there, right?”

“Yes.” Eijiro smiles, he can’t think of anything better than spending time with the two most important people in his life, at the same time.

“Then we should.” Izuku declares decisively, straightening up, eyes brightening, exactly the way he does when he is filled with purpose. “We should invite Kacchan to dinner with us when you take me out.”

Eijiro blinks in surprise.

“I’m taking you out?”

Izuku squeezes his hand, and Eijiro has to resist the instinct to harden himself under the pressure.

“Second date, Alpha. Yes, you’re taking me out.”

“Oh…” Eijiro blinks, and Midoriya tugs him up the stairs and uses the movement to deliberately slide their wrist glands together. A tingle of fresh pine shivers up Eijiro’s spine “Oh.”

Eijiro feels helpless against the tug of happy possessiveness Izuku exudes as they scent each other, and finds that he doesn’t mind it one bit as Midoriya pulls him through the doors and into the dorms. They barely let go of each other long enough to step out of their shoes and into their slippers in the genkan before Midoriya’s hand finds his again and they make their way into the main common room.

Kirishima takes a quick glance around, and spots Bakugo’s blond spikes half a second before Midoriya does, and then he is being swept along by Midoriya once more, heading for the love-seat Bakugo has sprawled all over like he owns it.

They live with seventeen people other than Bakugo, all of them heroes in training, all very observant, and all permanently thirsty for gossip. And they all have noses, though maybe none are quite as sensitive as Kaminari.

The blond omega whips his head up and around, away from the racing game he was playing with Sero and Shoji, so fast that Eijiro worries for the integrity of his friend’s spine, and practically leaps over the back of the couch to get to them.

“Oh my gods, you scented!” Kaminari grabs for Kirishima's free hand, intent on his wrist, but he is halted by the strong, green-lightning wreathed grip Midoriya suddenly has around him. “I-”

Midoriya snarls.

“Kami, babe,” Ashido’s voice is soft and low, but rumbles with an alpha’s command. “I think you should let go of Kirishima now.”

“But-” Kaminari starts, his scent tainted with a coil of citrus concern.

“Fucking leave it, Pikachu Wannabe!” Bakugo doesn’t even turn around, still apparently focused on whatever he’s doing on his phone. “Don’t fucking touch a brand new bond unless you want another omega to rip your throat out. Fuck… were you completely asleep in every sex-ed lesson ever?”

By the time Bakugo finishes yelling, Kaminari's hand has slipped away. The little blond omega sniffs, looking sad and curled in on himself, and part of Eijiro pangs with the desire to comfort his friend – a member of his pack – and make him happy once more. It’s so strange to see Kaminari not smiling. But a larger part of him preens at the way Midoriya instantly becomes warm and lax, moulding against his side, and he chuffs happily at the scent of contentment which radiates from his omega.

“Wow…” Ashido’s eyebrows have practically vanished into her hair. “So, you guys are courting now huh.”

“Yes!” Midoriya replies enthusiastically. He laces his fingers in-between Eijiro’s own and twists to gaze up at him. Eijiro is gripped with the sudden – and completely reasonable desire, in his opinion – to kiss every single one of his freckles. “I have a boyfriend now.”

“And do we have to fumigate the gym now?” Bakugo snarks.

“You went on a date in the gym?” Ashido queries.

“Bro that’s kind of low-key isn’t it?” Kaminari stresses.

“Very sweaty,” Sero quips with a raised eyebrow.

“Is getting sweaty considered romantic?” Todoroki asks, with no hint of whether or not he’s joking.

Eijiro laughs, and when Shoji shuffles over on the couch, he settles in beside the other alpha with a grin. Midoriya sits so close, that when Uraraka comes over she wonders aloud why the omega isn’t just sitting in Eijiro’s lap, and the general noise of conversation rises up around them.

Truthfully, Eijiro would normally want to go straight to the showers, but he cannot bear to tear himself away from Midoriya, even for a moment. He knows they’ll have to move apart eventually, because of the laws of physics and Aizawa’s determination to check on each of them before curfew. Eijiro strokes over Midoriya's knuckles with his fingers, part of his hindbrain trying to memorize all their textures, and he feels content. It is comfortable to sit with his omega, the bond between them growing each time Izuku rubs their wrists together, weaving their scents into something new and perfect and just theirs.

Midoriya begins to enthuse about watching Eijiro and Bakugo’s spar, and Bakugo makes a dismissive snort and lifts himself up over the back of the love seat, and shuffling off towards the kitchen.

“Baku-bro?”

“Bet neither of you idiots even fucking ate. Morons. Someone has to look after you…” Bakugo’s words trail off into snippish muttering which Eijiro knows the beta swears he does not do, but it seems one can only spend so much time in Midoriya's constant company before some of his habits rub off.

“Don’t mind Bakugo. He’s chronically allergic to happiness,” Kaminari quips as he throws himself across the newly vacated love-seat. “Hey Eijiro! Get in on the next round with us!”

“Bro.” Eijiro frowns across at his friend. “Not cool.”

“Sorry sorry. I forget the pair of you are like, attached at the hip.”

Half in his lap, Midoriya produces an unhappy chirrup. Eijiro rubs the scar around his boyfriend’s palm in what he hopes in a soothing manner, and Midoriya turns briefly and nuzzles against his chest. The tang of pine sap makes Eijiro’s head spin.

“Stop being quite so flirtatious you two,” Sero jibes gently. “C’mon Kirishima. Join us with the game, and you can still cuddle your new boy.”

Eijiro accepts the controller, and soon the four of them are locked into a brightly coloured, high-speed racing game, laughing and crowing at their successes and their friend’s losses. At the end of the race, Midoriya takes up a spare controller and joins them, and soon Eijiro is leaning hard against the omega who seems determined to push him off the side of the track, grinning the whole time.

In Eijiro’s opinion, video games and movie nights are always the best, because even though they are all hero’s-in-training, sometimes it’s nice to pretend for a few hours that they are normal teenagers with nothing more stressful than dorm life and new relationships to worry about.

Midoriya does indeed push Eijiro off the race track, only to ram into a tree in a shower of sparks seconds later, effectively removing them both from the game. Ashido and Jirou are quick to take their places, and Eijiro’s stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly.

“Let’s go see Kacchan,” Midoriya says brightly, tugging on Eijiro’s hand as he gets up. “Remember we have to ask him something…”

Eijiro knows his grin is far too bright, but he doesn’t care. Midoriya got Bakugo to come on their first date, it can’t be that hard just to ask the man to join them again.

“Hey Kacchan!”

“Hey Baku-bro.”

“Tch. You couldn’t wait another five minutes?” Bakugo doesn’t look up as he picks sliced vegetables up out of a pale, thin batter before dropping them into the pan of hot oil where they bubble and fizz. “I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

“Dude, is that tempura?” Eijiro swallows audibly. Already he is way more hungry than he was ten seconds ago.

“It’s the only fucking way to make sure you eat any vegetables, you overgrown carnivore.”

Eijiro beams, his scent flooding gold with happiness at this unexpected gift.

“Bro, I love you.”

“Tch.” Bakugo turns from the stove for a moment and gestures sharply at Midoriya with his oily tongs. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to say it to him, not me.”

“But you made me tempura!” Eijiro wants to hug Bakugo, but he knows better than to touch the beta when he’s cooking. Chances of injury are higher than the usual baseline.

“Thank you, Kacchan,” Midoriya says sweetly. His scent is all sweet and fresh again, and Eijiro has to resist the animalistic urge to purr and rub his face over every inch of his boyfriend he can reach. “But we did want to ask you something.”

“Yeah,” Eijiro agrees. “We did.”

He waits until Katsuki has switched off the burner, and removed the final pieces of tempura from the oil before continuing. It is far less distracting to talk to Bakugo when all he’s doing is plating food and pouring out dipping sauce.

“I’m taking Izuku on another date.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Tomorrow.”

This gets a raised eyebrow from Midoriya, and a smile.

“To that new yakiniku restaurant near the park.”

“Don’t burn the place down, alright Red?”

“Kacchan…” Midoriya complains gently.

“He can defend his damn self,” Bakugo bites back. “He’s a big boy.”

The look Midoriya shoots Eijiro’s way makes him blush all the way up to his hairline.

“Mmmmm.”

“Ugh. Get out of my kitchen, fucking horny morons.”

“No, no wait, no. We have to ask you something.”

Bakugo stops in the act to physically pushing Eijiro out of the room, and regards him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

“Will you come with us?”

“Huh?”

“Will you come,” Midoriya repeats, slower and more clearly, making sure Bakugo is watching his face, “with us to the yakiniku place?”

“As-? For…?” Bakugo folds his arms across his impressive chest and glares at them critically. “You guys need me to hold your hands again?”

The prospect of holding Bakugo’s hand is one Eijiro is suddenly very invested in. He knows what Midoriya's hands feel like now, he wants to compare and contrast.

“Oh, are you guys going to Art of Fire?” Todoroki leans around the edge of the doorway. “I hear it’s really nice there.”

“Tch.” Bakugo spares the only other beta in the entire Hero course a glance, and rolls his eyes. “These idiots need a friend to go with them or some fucking thing.”

“No that’s not-”

“Hang on Kaccha-”

But in half a heartbeat, the situation has gotten away from them, and Eijiro listens in horror as his ‘second date plus Bakugo’ plans go up in flames.

“Can I come too?” Todoroki asks, then without waiting for more than a grunt from Bakugo, he turns back towards the common room and shouts. “Hanta! Let’s go to the new yakiniku place tomorrow!”

“Me too!” Kaminari shouts. “I can come too, right Sero?”

“Don’t see why not,” Sero manages to get out, before Kaminari is hopping up excitedly.

“Miiiiiina! You’ll come too, right?”

“Uraraka and I were gonna-”

“We can have our date at the restaurant babe,” Ashido replies. “We could all do with getting out of here. Momo, do you and Jirou want to join us?”

“Oh, yes please!”

“Sure.”

“Room for some more?” Shoji says softly.

Dark Shadow squawks.

Eijiro turns to Midoriya, pressing a close mouth kiss into his boyfriend’s hair.

“Sounds like everyone’s coming too.”

“Oh.” Midoriya tries to inject his usual bright positivity into his tone, and fails. “Great.”

Bakugo kicks Kirishima’s ankle.

“Oi, Christmas Tree Boys.”

“Because of the red and green? Oh, Kacchan that’s really very creative, but I’m not sure we’d really-”

“Fucking never mind!” Bakugo cuts him off with a glare. “Here. Food. Eat it.” He shoves the plates of tempura and dipping sauces at them and makes motions to shoo them from the kitchen. “We should leave for dinner by six, and Red, if you wear fucking gym gear or neon I will roast you – literally. You won’t be sexy with grill marks on your face.”

The pair of them back away, and end up on either side of the long dining table, the food spread between them. Midoriya chews a red pepper thoughtfully.

“Kacchan just called you sexy.”

Eijiro blinks, eats something, then blinks again.

“Huh.” He smiles across the table at his boyfriend, linking their ankles together, feeling the warm slide of Midoriya against his skin. “He did.”

He and Midoriya eat their dinner with matching smiles.

***

Picking what to wear for date number two is a lot less stressful, mostly because Eijiro only has a limited number of options which aren’t school uniform, training uniform, Hero costume, or gym gear. And it’s too cold to wear shorts, and all his summer clothes are neon.

Eijiro hears Bakugo’s door slam shut, and checks his muscle clock – there’s still half an hour until they need to leave, but maybe Bakugo has something else he needs to do in the common room, though it would be unusual for him to join Kaminari and the others for pre-dinner games or other shenanigans. Eijiro shrugs into his favourite vintage Crimson Riot t-shirt, and is flicking through his closet trying to decide which shirt to put over it, when the door bangs open.

Bakugo stands in the doorway, glaring at him.

It looks like Bakugo Glare Number Seven: Startled Confusion. Midoriya once left one of his personal notebooks lying on his desk during break in their second year, and Eijiro still wishes he’d had time to turn the page and find out what comes after Bakugo Glare Number Fifty-Two: Protective Affection.

“Oh, hey Baku-bro.”

There is a long pause, and then Bakugo speaks, sounding very slightly like he’s just undergone a factory reset.

“You’re dressed.”

“...yes?”

Bakugo hunches his shoulder and sticks his hands in the pockets of his – rather nice – black jeans before shrugging and toeing the door closed with his foot. He scowls as he drops into Eijiro's desk chair a touch too heavily for it not to have been deliberate.

Ah, he’s back to normal now.

“Figured you would be stressing about what to wear. Half expected to see your entire closet on the floor.” Bakugo rolls his eyes at Eijiro’s bed, which is actually quite neat with newly washed flame patterned sheets.

“And look, no neon!”

“Your shirt has a drawing of Crimson Riot on it.”

“You say that like Izuku isn’t going to be wearing something even more nerdy,” Eijiro retorts as he selects and dark red and black flannel button down.

“It’s fucking weird hearing you call him that.” Bakugo lifts himself up from the chair and steps up between Eijiro's feet, tugging the shirt front out of his hands. “You’re doing the buttons wrong, moron,” he mutters gently.

“Bro, it’s his name.”

“Tch, whatever. Can we just fucking go now?”

Eijiro finishes folding his shirt sleeves up to bare his forearms and takes a quick sniff of his wrist. He and Midoriya scented right at the end of their last lesson together, wrists sliding together and apart all too briefly, and the hit of mint and pine is still strong and clear. Everyone within a two-foot radius will know that he has someone who is special to him.

“Yeah, yeah, coming Baku-bro.”

“I can believe you are dragging most of the fucking Extras out with you on this damn date.”

Eijiro clenches he jaw as he starts after Bakugo down the stairs.

“Was just supposed to be you,” he mutters, knowing that Bakugo won’t be able to hear him from here.

Midoriya is perched on the back of the couch, looking adorable and nervous, with a soft pink blush painting his freckled cheeks, chewing his lip as Ashido approaches him with an open make up palette in one hand and fluffy kabuki brush in the other.

“C’mon Deku, just a little bit. You’ll look so adorable.”

“No, no, I’m OK. Thank you though, but I really don’t I have the right kind of face for make up,” Midoriya babbles, too fast and with a good amount of stammering. His blush gets more intense as Ashido takes another step forwards, and Eijiro lets his rumbling chuff vibrate the air around them. His omega looks very good blushing like that. “Kiri-kun!”

Midoriya slips out from under Ashido’s outstretched arm and practically Full-Cowl’s his way into Eijiro’s space. The omega moulds himself to Eijiro’s side, then turns those beautiful big green eyes on their friend.

“Kacchan! You both look so nice!”

“Tch, don’t give Shitty Hair too many compliments or his ego will inflate.”

“Kacchan! Be nice to my boyfriend.”

“Fine, fine.” Bakugo reaches out and ruffled Midoriya’s curls in a manner which is affectionate when coming from Bakugo. “Are we going or what?”

“We’re ready!” chimes a chorus of their peers, and Eijiro has to keep himself from groaning aloud as they all spill out of the dorms.

Considering the level of chaos which is usually created by more than fifty-percent of Class 3-A going anywhere together, getting to and settling into their seats at the restaurant is actually pretty painless. Todoroki claims the seat opposite Midoriya, and with Sero next to him, and that’s fine with Eijiro because he cannot imagine how hard it would have been to let anyone – besides himself and Bakugo –sit beside the freckled omega. Bakugo is on the end – which is worrying, because it means the servers are most likely to speak to him first, and keeping Bakugo from snapping at service staff is usually a whole-class activity – but that means Kirishima has to sit next to someone else too at the long table. Thankfully, Ashido drops down next to him, Kaminari is opposite, and the rest of the class assemble down the length of the table and start unfolding the menus; arguing over what they want to order versus how much money they have to spend.

“Thank you for this Kiri-kun,” Midoriya says quietly, not looking at the menu held out in front of them like a shield. “It’s nice.”

“Not exactly like I planned,” Eijiro sighs.

Midoriya makes a small but annoyed huff and nudges his face against Eijiro’s shoulder like the world’s softest headbutt. Eijiro wants to put his arm around the omega and keep him safe and snuggled up forever. Those big forest-encompassing eyes blink up at him, so shiny that Eijiro think he can see his own reflection, and Midoriya uses the cover of the open menu to press their wrists together again.

“Next time,” Eijiro promises him. “Next time, just the three of us, OK?”

“So, what is everyone eating?” Uraraka asks loudly, just as their server comes up with a data-pad held at the ready for their order.

“Bakugo?” Eijiro asks at the exact moment that Midoriya says, “Kacchan?”

A moment of silence descends upon their end of the table, and Kirishima senses a questing scent of pale-blue tinted curiosity, right before Sero looks away fast enough for them not to lock eyes. Todoroki is either not as quick, or not aware than it matters that he can be seen, because his eyes move between Bakugo, Midoriya, and Eijiro then back around again; as though he is working something out. What that something is though is impossible to divine beneath his icy expression and too-subtle beta scent.

Eijiro makes a mental note to ask Sero about the trials of dating a beta when you can’t just smell how they feel.

“The red-haired idiot will have Karubi – with the bones in please because he is like a fucking animal.” Bakugo is talking to the server, and OK he swore, but he also said please and Eijiro feels his mouth hang open in shock. “Pork belly for this Deku, and I’ll have shrimp. Thanks.”

“Absolutely, and um-” the server begins to gesture to the rest of the long table, all eyes peeled, watching and listening as Bakugo holds a conversation with an Extra without shouting.

“They can look after their damn selves,” Bakugo snipes. “Oi. Half-and-Half, don’t keep everyone waiting and order your fucking food.”

Everyone orders, Midoriya closes Eijiro’s mouth with two fingers on his jaw and Eijiro wants to kiss him. The server returns moments later with fresh charcoal to be added to the electric powered burners down the centre of the long table. Ashido swivels her chair to face the next burner and her girlfriend, and Kaminari pokes excitedly at the fire as Todoroki and Midoriya begin to dissect the various pros and cons of using their friends Quirks to cook with. Eijiro glances over the top of Midoriya’s curls to see Bakugo watching the omega fondly.

“Hey.”

Bakugo glances at him, one eyebrow raised.

“You ordered my favourite.”

“Tch. ‘Course. It is a date still for you, technically.”

Eijiro feels his scent go all orange and red right before he chuffs in pleasure and pride. Bakugo rolls his eyes.

“Bro-” Eijiro starts, but Bakugo growls at him. It is impressive he can make such a feral noise, considering he does not have the differently developed voice box of an alpha or omega.

“It’s whatever.”

Eijiro uses the distraction of the first few platters of food turning up to smile openly at the back of Bakugo's head, hoping the gratitude he feels ends up getting through his friend’s stubbornness somehow.

The best part of yakiniku is the way the cooking gets everyone talking about stuff which isn’t school work or internships. Eijiro flips his beef short ribs and Sero bastes his shrimp in garlic sauce and then Bakugo’s shrimp with the extra hot chilli. Todoroki and Bakugo argue over which one of them is more of a fire expert, with Midoriya making – insightful but entirely unwelcome – observations. Kaminari is quick to point out that Todoroki has never cooked anything without burning it and no wok ever made could withstand Bakugo’s explosions. Someone chucks a raw shrimp at his head and the blond omega squeals.

They eat, and Midoriya makes unholy, x-rated, wonderful noises which Eijiro promises himself he will not think of later, in bed, by himself, with his hand wrapped around his dick. Todoroki feeds slices of beef harami to Sero with his chopsticks, and Kaminari makes an exaggerated gagging noise. This time the shrimp which hits him is covered in hot sauce.

Bakugo accepts a bowl of sliced vegetables from their server and bastes them in soy as they cook over the cooler part of the fire.

“So manly,” Eijiro sighs, chin in hand as he watches his best friend cook for them.

“Eat your damn vegetables Red. You too, Freckles.”

“Nooooo Kacchan,” Midoriya laughs and stuffs his mouth with another slice of pork belly with perfectly crisped fat.

“Oi!”

Bakugo tries to take it from him and Midoriya bites his fingers. Sero mutters something to Todoroki as Midoriya tries to take shelter in the harbour of Eijiro’s big arms. Midoriya scents him even as he tries to burrow into Eijiro's chest, but the heady surge of pine and desire and possession doesn’t make Eijiro want to stop Bakugo from trying to force a piece of crisp roasted broccoli into his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Eat your fucking vegetables!”

“Broccoli for a broccoli head?” Sero mouths at Eijiro. All Eijiro can do is shrug as his boyfriend as the beta they are trying to date grabs Midoriya's wrist and yanks him out of Eijiro’s arms and practically into his own lap.

Bakugo’s fingers are tight around Midoriya's wrist, right over the gland Eijiro just scented. It’s like he can taste Bakugo's scent, and feel the sticky, sweet burnt caramel flavour sliding down his throat. He purrs, loudly.

Across the table from him, Kaminari glares at the tableau, sparks of annoyance and rejection colouring his scent until he feels too spiky to even speak to.

“And how come Blasty doesn’t get his head bitten off for touching Eijiro’s new boy-toy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Eijiro snaps, too fast and too viciously.

Kaminari goes very still for a moment, and then tilts his head away, eyes lowered, in a clear sign of deference and submission. Eijiro sits back down into his chair – not that he remembers getting up from it – and exhales, his instincts retract their claws from his rational brain. He knows Kaminari doesn’t mean any harm, that he isn’t a threat – to either himself or his omega – because Kaminari likes alpha females, but none of that seems to make any difference to his alpha hindbrain.

The fact those same instincts are not alarmed by Bakugo touching his omega – though Eijiro will admit the casual scruffing made his question his sanity for a moment – has clearly not gone unnoticed. Eijiro tries to shrug off the thick layer of tension from his shoulders, and a moment later, Midoriya is leaning into his space, a single chaste kiss pressed to his throat, and Bakugo huffs, and gives up trying to feed Midoriya. The moment he goes back to his shrimp, Midoriya picks up the broccoli and eats it whole.

“But-” Todoroki looks stunned.

“Kacchan said so,” is Midoriya’s – perfectly reasonable – explanation.

The rest of the class want to try the new special dessert the restaurant is offering – tropical fruit slices grilled at the table, and served with various ice cream flavours, but Bakugo looks like he is itching to get out of there. Eijiro might not be able to scent the beta, but he has been his best friend for the better part of three years, and he knows the signs of Bakugo's social tolerance meter running low.

“We should get going,” Eijiro offers his hand to Midoriya, and pulls the little omega out of his seat with a happy trill. “Bye everyone!”

“Don’t fucking miss curfew,” Bakugo says to apparently no one, getting up and putting money on the table.

Eijiro pays for Midoriya and himself, and they hurry after Bakugo. It is not quite fast enough however, for his heightened senses not to pick up on Sero’s exasperated drawl.

“Denks man, I love you but you’re a moron-”

To Eijiro's surprise, Bakugo is standing under the street lamp along the road, just out of sight of the restaurant's windows, clearly waiting for them, with his hands in his pockets.

The three of them fall into step easily, long used to walking the streets together at all times of day and night, and Eijiro slings as arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

“Thanks for coming out with us Baku-bro.”

“Tch. Whatever.”

Midoriya tries to squeeze into the space between them – unsuccessfully because he is small but not that small – and pouts before nudging against Bakugo's other bicep.

“Nerd,” Bakugo says, affectionately.

“It was fun! Do you think we’ll be able to have barbecues on campus again this summer?”

“Don’t see how Sensei could stop us,” Bakugo replies. “It’s not like it’s dangerous, and everyone cleans up after themselves.”

“Because you make them dude.” Eijiro smiles at his friend. “Leaving the place a mess isn’t worth your rage.”

“Such lazy bastards, the lot of them!”

“Kacchan!”

Bakugo takes a deep breath, and Eijiro does not mention it, but he sees the way the beta tilts his head, getting the mixed scent of Midoriya's hair and Eijiro's wrist gland, as he does so, and the last of the tension dissipates from around him. He blinks skyward as they approach the outer wall of the UA campus.

“So, does it still count as a good date even though the whole class came?” the beta mutters.

Eijiro and Midoriya share a look behind Bakugo's back as their friend steps forward to show his ID to the gate-guard. Midoriya’s eyes are huge and glowing, Eijiro knows his own grin is just as bright.

“Oh yes,” they chorus, “it was a great date.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki still isn’t quite sure how it happens but he keeps ending up with Todoroki and Shinsou when no one else is around and he has nothing better to do. Todoroki's explanation of beta-familiarity might have some value, but that does fuck-all to explain why Shinsou is here too. Ostensibly, Katsuki is doing paperwork – which is homework, just for interns – but even he has to take a break and stretch his fingers every now and then, and Todoroki turned up with chilli rice crackers.

The cold bastard might have all the personality of a cardboard cut-out, but he knows how to snack.

“Hey there Blasty-boy.”

“Mind Fucker,” Katsuki greets Shinsou tersely as the purple haired, permanently tired alpha slides into the only empty chair at their table.

“We still on for sparring the day after tomorrow?” Shinsou asks, tilting his head and apparently trying to work out which of his eyes he wants to be looking out of. After a moment he gives up and shuts both, laying his chin on the table.

“Idiot. You’re gonna destroy your spine. But yeah, I’ll train with you.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, but he knows – and he knows that Shinsou knows – it’s a cover. They train together so that Katsuki can improve his ability to put up walls against mental quirks – he fucking hates mental quirks – and Shinsou improves his abilities to break them down. It’s mutually beneficial, but Katsuki is very aware of the fact Shinsou is his friend now because having a free-agent who has spent that much time in his head is not a good thing.

“I gather from the various emoji-smashes in the alpha general-chat that your attempts at matchmaker have been successful.”

“Tch.”

“Bakugo?” Todoroki tilts his head to one side and blinks at him. “What is wrong?”

“Why the fuck would anything be fucking wrong? Fuck off.”

“Expanding our vocabulary range of epithets today, I see.”

“Fuck you too, Eyebags.” Katsuki looks between his so called friends – or at least, the only so called friends he has left that aren’t either dating each other or actively involved in being as dramatic as possible – and growls.

Getting Deku and Kirishima together was a fucking great idea, wasn’t it? The downside is now he doesn’t have a sounding board because the pair of them are wrapped around each other so tight, they might as well be welded together. And when they’re not, it’s not like Katsuki is under any illusions that the pair of them don’t talk. It has been a week since dinner, and every other sentence out of Kirishima's stupid mouth has been ‘Izuku says that-’.

Katsuki has so far resisted violence because he is a godsdamn saint, thank you very much.

But he needs to talk to someone.

“They asked me out with them. Again.”

Shinsou frowns, and his acrid coffee and floral lavender scent – a combination Katsuki cannot fucking stand – starts coiling with curiosity. Katsuki wishes he could just blast it away, because it always feels like small hands grabbing at him and trying to understand what he knows.

“You don’t want to go?” Todoroki asks with his head on one side. “I thought dinner was fun.”

“Dinner was the whole damn dorm.”

“Where’s the next date?” Shinsou asks, trying to sound like he isn’t digging for details.

“They wanna go to the onsen,” Katsuki grouches.

Todoroki sighs. A big, loud, wistful sigh like people do in movies, and Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts.

“I haven’t been to a proper onsen in forever. I want to go too.”

Katsuki frowns, but the moment he opens his mouth to speak, Shinsou claps his palm directly over Katsuki’s mouth. Only the shock that the purple haired alpha would dare touch him stops Katsuki from biting him.

“Todoroki, ask your boyfriend to take you to the onsen.” He turns to fix his gaze on Katsuki. “It’s not a place you go to hang out with your classmates.”

“But Kirishima and Midoriya are-”

Shinsou removes his hand right before Katsuki’s teeth snap shut where his pinky finger was.

“Todoroki, love you as I do in a completely wonderful and platonic manner, I really do not think Kirishima and Midoriya meant to invite the whole dorm along on their dinner date.”

“But they invited Bakugo?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki feels oddly defensive of the other beta, for some fucking reason. After all, he was the one who told Todoroki he could join them, or whatever.

“Trust me,” Shinsou says, sounding so smug that Katsuki really wants to push a small explosion into his face, “they did not invite Blasty Boy here to the onsen, as a friend.”

Katsuki manages to keep the detonation enclosed within his curled fingers, but it’s a close thing. He shakes his wrist out as a coating of Todoroki's frost creeps across his skin and scowls at the pair of them.

“Well what the fucking hell else would they invite me for? Fucking useless idiots, the pair of you.” Katsuki stands up so fast his chair scrapes back across the floor with an almighty squeal before falling over. “Fuck this. Fucking sexed-up romantic fucks. Fuck off.”

Katsuki shoves both hands in his pockets and stalks away, but he still hears Todoroki’s sudden exclamation as he finally catches up with what Shinsou has been saying.

“Oh! They didn’t mean as friends. Huh. I’m sure the onsen will be nice Bakugo!” he calls out loudly, and Bakugo spins on his heel, the back of his neck burning. “It’ll be nice for the three of you to get some time together away from everyone!”

Katsuki sticks up his middle finger behind himself, and slams the door extra hard on his way out.

***

Half an hour before the time Katsuki agreed to meet Deku and Kirishima, he is suddenly struck by the wish that he hadn’t stormed out on Shinsou and Todoroki, and found out exactly what the alpha had meant by his friends asking him out ‘but not as a friend’ thing. What else is there for three people to do, other than to all be just friends or for Katsuki to be third wheeling with the two most important people in his life? They can’t possibly still need him for moral support, and he’s not a damn chaperone, because Deku is too much of a shy nerd and Kirishima is too chivalrous for either of them to be getting hot and heavy in a public place like the onsen.

But Shinsou’s overly smug tone still bothers Katsuki as he yanks a lightweight jacket on over his tank top. He can’t shake the feeling this is one of those things that everyone else gets and he doesn’t, though whether it’s because he’s a beta or because he’s ace, Katsuki isn’t sure.

The third option is that Katsuki isn’t in on the joke because he’s so hard headed and stubborn, but Katsuki refuses to entertain that thought for more than half a second. He’s fucking perfect just the way he is.

He drags a hand through his hair, letting off small explosions to stiffen up his spikes because there is not point putting in hair gel just to have it wash out again in the onsen, and with five minutes to spare slouches down to the common room to meet up with his friends.

Kirishima has spiked up his hair, and Katsuki gives him shit about it for the entire – short – train ride to the onsen that Deku chose for them. Sento bathhouses in the middle of town are segregated by both primary and secondary genders, but proper onsen have traditional mixed bathing and Katsuki is glad Deku is the type of nerd who researches these things. He cannot imagine what kind of a time they’d have trying to converse with a wall in the way.

“Get a move on, Freckles,” Katsuki snaps as he finishes stowing his clothes before collecting a basket to take to his wash station. “Can’t wait all day for you. The water will get cold.”

“Kacchan, you do know the onsen is heated by geothermal volcanic activity?” Deku asks with a small frown, pink lips pursing as he stares at his shirt in his hands. Katsuki growls so that he won’t have to find actual words to respond with, and smacks Deku around the back of the head with his towel.

“Baku-bro! Be nice to my boyfriend!”

“Train him better then,” Katsuki retorts, grinning broadly.

Kirishima arches an eyebrow at him and smiles, all those big pointlessly sharp teeth on show. For a – very brief – moment, Katsuki wonders if this is how a fish feels when it realises it’s been spotted by a shark.

“You’ve never managed to stop him saying everything he thinks, and you’ve been hanging out with him since you guys were kids,” Kirishima gloats. “How do you expect me to train him out of bad habits now?”

Katsuki opens his mouth, but suddenly realises he has no defence. If Deku’s muttering could be fixed, Katsuki would have worked out a way to do it by now. After all, it’s not like he can scruff Deku into silence right before they have to get washed. Instead he clenches his jaw and brushes brusquely past his friends and into the main washing room.

Katsuki grabs a stool and sits, then reaches down to adjust himself into a more comfortable position before taking the soap from his basket. He glances at the person sitting a few spaces down and wrinkles his nose as they raise an arm to scrub their pits – both of them, because four arms means double the body odour apparently – and Katsuki shakes his head as he rubs the unscented soap into a lather in his palms. His idiots might stink from all their emotions, but at least they have the decency to smell palatable.

“You morons ready yet?” Katsuki calls over his shoulder.

“We’re coming, we’re coming.”

Kirishima’s big hand lands briefly of his shoulder and Katsuki turns his head quickly to get a whiff of his alpha friend’s rich, umami scent. It’s so much better than the lingering smell of the four-armed person.

“’Bout time too. What took you so long?”

“Had to find Izuku a bigger towel.” Kirishima settles on the stool next to Katsuki and right away fills the bucket in front of him before splashing it messily over his head. All his carefully gelled spikes become a mane slicking down the centre of his broad back, covering his face up to his jaw. “Ah, that feels good.”

“You look ridiculous.” Katsuki scoffs, before twisting to look at Deku. “Oh, fucking hell- Freckles! What the heck are you doing?”

“Um…” Deku is standing at his wash station with a full size body towel wrapped around his waist – hiding the abs he has worked so hard for, which is a criminal offence in Katsuki’s opinion. Deku has come too far not to have earned bragging rights over his own body.

“Fuck’s sake, Deku. I have seen you naked a thousand times. Loose the fucking towel.”

“Kacchan…” Deku whines.

Katsuki growls at him.

“You have seven freckles right above your dick which look like the big dipper-”

“Kacchan!!!”

Katsuki leans into Deku’s space, reaches out and whips the towel off him before Deku can even move. Not for nothing does he have the reflexes required to not impact himself into solid concrete while he flies at breakneck speeds around the city.

“Modesty is overrated. Get washed, Freckles.”

Deku hops from foot to foot, but then he takes the stool on Katsuki’s other side, Katsuki passes him the soap, and the three of them set to properly scrubbing before they can take a dip in the onsen. Katsuki is cleaning diligently between each of his toes, his whole leg a froth of soap-foam, when he hears Deku mutter.

“Do they really look like Ursa Major…? I suppose from the other way up.” He tilts his head so far, Katsuki worries the pine-scented omega is going to break his neck.

“Don’t think so hard, Freckles.”

“Sorry Kacchan.”

“Tch.”

Opposite Kirishima, a figure appears from the other side of the half height wall – presumably having washed up at the station on the other side – and Katsuki arches an eyebrow at the hulking triangular shape of their shoulders.

“Fucking hell, look at the size of those arms.” He nudges Deku with one foot, kicking the nerd in the meat of his thigh. “What kind of Quirk do you reckon they have to need shoulders like that?”

“It’s gotta be a strength type,” Deku mutters, attention instantly honed on observing his subject. Katsuki smiles to himself as Deku’s scent takes on sweet jasmine and honey notes, mixing with the mint and pine, creating something refreshing and eager. “Doesn’t look like they have a muscle-form they transform into, it seems like they are just heteromorphic. They must do really high intensity core workouts to be able to deal with that much added weight in their upper body – you’d know Kacchan, you have great shoulders. I wonder what they use it for though, we’d know if they’re in a Hero of course, but maybe they work in a physical field…”

Katsuki grins as Deku trails off into incoherent mumbling.

“I thought you said you hated it when he ‘goes off’ like that?” Kirishima says in a low voice, side eyeing Katsuki has he runs his finger through his hair, dragging it out of his face.

Katsuki blinks, then busies himself with his bucket once more.

“Dude, are you blushing?”

“Fuck you. Blushing. Fuck off- it’s hot in here.”

Katsuki pours water over his own head, mostly to block his ears for a moment so he cannot hear whatever it is Kirishima says next, and scowls. The person with the huge arms is pretty impressive, sure, but mostly Katsuki just wanted Deku to get out of his own head. It’s not like this so-called date will be any fun if Deku sends himself into an anxiety spiral.

Katsuki shakes the water from his hair in an action which makes both his friends splutter and protest, and stows the soap and wash-cloths back in his basket to be cleared for the next customer. Katsuki rolls his shoulders as he stands up, then narrows his eyes as he spots someone in the corner nearest them, leaning against the tile wall below the mural of whales and waves. Something about their position – curled in on themselves and facing into the corner – makes Katsuki instantly suspicious, and the single whiff he gets of the person’s briny and sulphurous scent has Katsuki balancing on the balls of his feet, palm heating up, ready to defend himself and his friends.

“Kacchan?”

“Something is up with that sketchy Extra in the corner,” Katsuki growls out, keeping his voice low. At Katsuki’s words Deku’s scent instantly crackles with tension, but Katsuki pats the omega’s wet green curls as he steps forward. “Stay here.”

Katsuki stalks four paces across the tile floor towards the person in the corner, jaw tight as he reins in his natural desire to just shout and get their attention. Only once he’s within what Aizawa would term as ‘normal indoor speaking distance’, does Katsuki bark out a question.

“Oi, what are you up to?”

The person in the corner stiffens at is words, hunching and Katsuki sees them shiver – cold fear changing the scent Katsuki can now identify as belonging to an alpha – and they turn toward him. Katsuki was expecting trouble, if not of the villainous type, then certainly of the creepy and perverted variety; but the person just whimpers, looking embarrassed as Katsuki looks them up and down.

The dude has a shark-like Quirk, but instead of just having cool teeth like Kirishima, they also have slightly slick grey skin, very round and dark eyes, and two identical and perfectly smooth cocks. Which they are trying to hide behind the very small towel being twisted in their nervous grip.

“Oh.” Katsuki shakes his head, growling at himself because he was so fucking suspicious of someone who is clearly used to everyone thinking the worst of them because of how they look. Katsuki hates that he did that too, especially since the media loves to judge him for his beta status and his apparently villainous personality. He needs to do better.

“Hang on,” he snaps at the person with two dicks, then returns to the wash stations and takes the full-size towel Deku go from somewhere. Deku starts to protest, but Katsuki just flicks water at him. “You don’t need it; your arse is fine.” He holds it out to the nervous alpha and manages a hopefully friendly smile. “You shouldn’t feel bad about the way you look, but this will help until you get your confidence back.”

Shark-dicks nods mutely, and Katsuki shrugs, and returns to stand behind Kirishima. Absently, he pulls his fingers through his friend’s thick red mane. When it’s loose like this, Kirishima’s hair really is ridiculous.

“You done yet, Red?”

Kirishima only response is to purr, a deep rumble in his chest, and Katsuki glances in the little round mirror on the wash-station wall to see his friend’s eyes sliding closed.

“Bloody alphas.” Katsuki smacks the back of his head, but lightly. “Come on morons, hot water awaits.”

“So, who did Kacchan give my towel to?” Deku asks as he stands up, his own omega cock sitting pretty beneath his distinctive freckles.

“Some alpha with two dicks. Kinda weird – looked really smooth though – but it’s not their fault. Seemed really fucking nervous, hence the towel.”

“Kacchan! You cannot just look at someone else’s cock.” Deku looks fucking scandalised, cheeks rosy and eyes wide. “That’s so rude.”

“What? Fuck off Nerd. I was nice. I gave them a towel and everything. Not that I think they need to cover up. Two cocks aren’t any more special than one cock.”

Deku looks like he’s about to faint.

“Oh my gods, Kacchan…. Eijiro, make him see sense. Please?”

Kirishima frowns, clearly thinking quite hard before he opens his big mouth.

“Baku-bro, buddy. People don’t just like… look. Not when everyone is naked. You wouldn’t look at my dick.”

Katsuki arches an eyebrow at his friend, then drops his gaze quite obviously to Kirishima’s crotch. The red head is a big alpha with a big cock, and the obvious weight of it hangs nicely between his thighs, nestled in a soft smattering of dark hair.

“Why not? It’s a perfectly nice dick.”

“Oh my fucking gods,” Kirishima whines, clawing his hair over his face. “Bakugo…”

Katsuki rolls his eyes at the pair of them, because Deku has gone suspiciously silent and his face in about the same colour as Kirishima’s hair.

“You two are so fucking weird. Just get in the damn onsen, would you.?”

The water is steaming hot – exactly how Katsuki likes it – and a soft cloudy blue with minerals. Deku yelps as he gets in and Kirishima takes the omegas hand to steady him before Katsuki can give into the childish desire to shove him into the water. Katsuki steps down into the pool and submerges himself right up to his throat for a moment, exhaling a cloud of steam as his temperature equalises. It’s nice for his hands not to feel so much hotter than the rest of his body. After a few minutes, Katsuki half-swims his way across to the far corner of this particular pool and settles down on the submerged bench, resting his arms on the edge on either side of him as he relaxes with his eyes shut. There are plenty of onsen pools to choose from, and the three of them don’t need to share this one with anyone, so Katsuki allows his body to relax and stetch out knowing there is plenty of space.

And then something warm, firm, and fleshy and- Deku is practically fucking cuddling up next to him.

“Get off me.”

“But Kacchan looks so comfy.”

“Yeah. I fucking am comfy. By myself. Alone.”

“But how am I supposed to talk to Kacchan from so far away?”

Katsuki exhales sharply between his teeth, and for a very, very tiny fraction of a second, he misses the past when doing even that was enough to get Deku to back off. But the flash of aggravation passes almost faster than Katsuki can recognise it for what it is, and he sighs.

“Talk to your big, dumb boyfriend.”

“Kiri-kun! Come join us!”

“Urgh… that’s not what I meant, Freckles.”

“Hey!” Kirishima comes splashing across the onsen with a delighted grin, as though they have been separated for hours and not mere seconds. “Baku-bro, how was your patrol yesterday? I never got a chance to see you after our shifts finished.”

“That’s because I went to bed at a reasonable hour and you still insist of staying up and screwing around with Discount Pikachu and the Tape Dispenser,” Katsuki retorts. “Future number one heroes get a full eight hours sleep.”

“And you say I’m the nerd,” Deku mutters. “I saw your patrol Kacchan! You were on TV!”

“Dude, really? Sick!”

“Tch. Whatever.”

“You didn’t watch it? I sent Kacchan the link.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and drags a hand through his hair as he rests his elbow on the side of the pool. Instantly, Deku uses his bicep as a pillow. Katsuki glowers down at him – how dare he still look so cute with the little towel folded into a square on his head – but Deku just beams.

“It was amazing! Kiri-kun I’ll have to send it to you. Kacchan is so strong.”

Katsuki grumbles something indistinct. He knows what he looks like, and unless he’s studying his own videos for training purposes, he doesn’t see the point in watching boring fucking footage of himself assisting a demolition crew whose job hadn’t gone to plan. Katsuki has only been asked to stop by the building as a courtesy on his patrol route, and it turned out he was just in time. He’s pretty sure the videos Deku is so thrilled about were all shot take on a phone by random civilians.

“He actually held up the whole side of the building with his explosions!” Deku says to Kirishima. “Like pow-pow-pow one after the other to stop it from falling into the apartment complex across the street. So much stamina and control. It was amazing.” Deku's tone is full of hero-worship Katsuki has been hearing since they were both four years old. He hides his smile on one side of his mouth, refusing to admit outwardly that he has grown to love Deku's distinct brand of praise. “If he’d just done one big explosion it wouldn’t have worked, there would have been a big hole and debris flying everywhere. BOOM! And there weren’t any other Heroes nearby with quirks capable of capturing or floating such a large amount of dangerous loose material. Kacchan redirected the weight until it could topple safely down in smaller pieces inside the original footprint of the building. Kacchan is so clever and brave.”

“Tch. Save the compliments for your damn boyfriend.”

“Of course!” Deku doesn’t move, but looks at Kirishima who is crowding up to his other side. “Kiri-kun is so strong too.” Deku presses Kirishima's chest with one hand, squishing the bulky muscle like a pillow. “So manly.”

Kirishima laughs, clearly happy to have someone else describe him as such, and Katsuki presses his hand over his face.

“Fucking hell. Get a godsdamn room you two!”

A moment later, his hand is being pulled away from his face by Kirishima.

“Awww bro. Would it be less weird if the three of us cuddled instead?”

Katsuki looks at him, at Deku with his big sea green eyes gazing up at him like Katsuki is his personal hero, and then back to Kirishima’s earnestly friendly smile. They smell like a summer barbecue and Katsuki’s stomach rumbles.

“Oh- fuck off shitty hair!” Katsuki splashes and soaks them both as he climbs out of the pool, but at least he didn’t explode anything.

Small victories.

Chapter Text

Izuku finishes pulling on his second glove, shuts his locker, and heads out into the main hub of the agency with a smile. With the scent-diffusers working overtime, the whole place smells bright and neutrally clean, but Izuku still spots Ryukyu easily enough with her black winged headband. It’s almost time for shift changeover, and Izuku and a few of the other’s interning from Class 3-A gather around her to find out what their assignments are.

“...Shoji, you still have paperwork to file, so go do that first, and then we’ll get you out. Deku…! Oh, you’re with Miruko today.”

Izuku brightens instantly. He really enjoys the alpha rabbit-hero’s company, and if they go out on patrol, he’s sure it will be interesting. Though it would also be really cool to work a case file with her-

“Cutie, you’re muttering again.” Ryukyu pats him on the head – a nice safe spot away from any scent glands since she is mated after all – and then calls across the hub. “Miruko!”

Miruko bounds over to them in a single leap, and wraps both arms around Ryukyu.

“My darling wife! Don’t you look radiant.”

Ryukyu blushes, and gestures to her data padd.

“You’re taking Deku out on patrol. Sector six.”

“Hey short-stack! Are you all geared up for patrol? Got extra Quirk-restraints for all the bad peeps we’ll catch today?”

“Yes ma’am!” Deku has learned to quell the urge to bow to his superiors every time they speak to him, but the formal language is pretty ingrained.

“Good job!” Miruko slaps his glove with her own, then peels down the edge of the cuff as she turns to face Ryukyu again. “One for the road please, my most wondrous darling?”

Izuku averts his gaze as the pair of them scent each other. Even in a public space, it’s a private gesture; intimate, and special, but quick. Soon enough, Miruko has put her glove back in place and they are headed out the door towards sector six.

“You want to bunny hop on over there, Deku?” Miruko challenges with a grin. Izuku smiles back, the thrill of competition lighting him up, and uses three-precent of Full Cowling to bounce up to the nearest flat rooftop, intent on getting a head start.

Behind him, the alpha laughs heartily, and joins the race.

And hour later they are on the ground, patrolling sector six and stop briefly to talk with the workers they see moving between buildings. This area used to be all warehouses, but a lot of them are being converted to apartment and shopping complexes, and even a school is going up on the corner of one block. Deku assists a construction team with a load of steel H-beams that slipped from their sling-hold whilst dangling from a crane. Miruko uses her Luna Fall and a couple of smaller thumping motions to help a landscaping team cut down work-hours needed to dig a pond for the nature-park adjacent to the future-school.

“It’s going to be a really nice area when they are finished with it,” Izuku muses happily. “Kacchan and I used to play in parks like this. I hope they plant lots of trees and stuff.”

Miruko smiles.

“By the time you graduate it’ll be full of people and bugs. It’ll make a great spot to stop for lunch break on patrol.”

Izuku’s stomach rumbles.

“Speaking of lunch, let’s hop on over a couple of streets and pick something up. We’ll do a bit of a walk around and reassure the citizens that they’re safe.”

Izuku chooses a couple of tuna onigiri, and picks up a vitamin water from the konbini. Miruko hands him a carrot, and Izuku chomps that happily too.

“You smell pleased with yourself short-stack, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Kacchan will be pleased I ate a vegetable. I should text Kiri-kun to remind him too.” Izuku grins as he sends an emoji-laden text to his boyfriend. He’s tempted to send a selfie to Kacchan, because he’s not sure beta will believe him about the carrot, but he also knows that poorly timed interruptions are not welcome, especially when Kacchan’s on his internship with Endeavour.

A shadow flashes over them, and Miruko’s ears perk up. They both watch as Hawks twists around in a tight loop, before landing before them with a hop and a bright smile. It doesn’t matter how many times Izuku sees the Winged Hero complete any kind of aerial tricks, it always takes his breath away.

As soon as Hawks is on solid ground, he dives directly into Miruko’s arms with a very happy omega-trill.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Miruko asks, combing Hawks’ hair from his face.

“Got a ping that you were near my patrol route!” Hawks glances over at Izuku and Izuku waves. He knows he’s such a fanboy still. “And I missed you. And I missed our lovely wife too. She left when I was still asleep.”

“Awww baby,” Miruko croons. “Lucky for you, we scented just before I left for patrol. C’mere…”

Izuku did not expect to witness a second intimate act in such a short space of time, so he finishes his water, collects and tosses the trash, and by the time he’s done that, Miruko and Hawks smell like each other. Izuku picks up notes of warm spice, a soft nuttiness, and a bright ozone scent which he thinks might come from Ryukyu. It’s pleasant, familial in the best kind of way, because it’s a choice.

“Smelling kind of jealous over there, short-stack.”

“Bunny, be nice.” Hawks turns to him, though he does not move away from Miruko, head resting on her shoulder. “Hello Deku.”

“Hello.” Izuku opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again. He has so many questions, it’s hard to choose what to say first. “How do you make it work?” he blurts. “I mean, y-your relationship with Ryukyu-san. How do you… how do you tell someone that you love them both?”

“Always greet your problems straight on!” Miruko declares passionately, punching the air and half dropping into a fighting stance. Hawks laughs.

“Do you want to give us a little more detail, Deku? Is this about that very explosive friend of yours and-” the winged hero takes an exaggerated sniff. “The alpha… the one with the red hair. FatGum’s little protege?”

Izuku gapes at him, but Hawks just shrugs with his wings.

“I have an extremely good sense of smell. That, and it’s well known you and Boom-boy are slightly obsessed with each other. Aizawa has a big mouth when he’s drunk.”

Izuku feels his face flush at the mere idea of Aizawa drinking socially, and then talking about him and his classmates. He’d honestly assumed the man spent all his time not-teaching completely comatose.

“Kiri-kun and I are courting.”

“And he’s not enough for you?”

Izuku feels the growl rising up in his throat, his scent spiking with anger at Hawks’ words. How dare anyone suggest that his alpha is anything less than perfect? He takes a deep breath, and wills himself into calmness.

“It’s not that. I love Kacchan. Kiri loves Kacchan too. And I wouldn’t change Kiri in any way! It just feels… feels…”

“Like you’re not complete?” Miruko leans into her partner’s side. “Yeah. I know the feeling. Have you spoken to this ‘Kacchan’ yet?”

“We took him on a couple of dates?”

Hawks arches an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, but did he know they were dates?”

***

The moment Izuku arrives back at the UA campus, he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. All the way back from his internship patrol shift, it’s like his nose has been on overdrive, picking up every little scent. Or maybe it was just rush hour and the train was packed, and Izuku is apparently never going to have another growth spurt and spent the whole journey with someone else’s armpit way too close to his nose. Either way, the scents of the campus are familiar and soothing, and Deku practically skips up the steps into Heights Alliance.

“Hey there, Midoriya.”

“Hi guys!” Izuku waves to his friends as he kicks off his shoes in the genkan and drops his bag by the stairs. His instincts twitch, and without even looking Izuku crosses the common room, uses the one-handed jump-and-pivot move Uraraka helped him with when he first developed Float, and drops down into Kirishima’s lap on the couch. “Hey Alpha.”

Kirishima blinks up at him, cheeks flushed and his scent coloured by a quickly soothed spike of surprise.

“Izuku!”

“Missed you Kiri-kun.”

Izuku slides his wrist gland along Kirishima’s throat and watches his alpha’s eyes fall half closed over the sensation of their scents combining. Izuku relaxes in his lap, snuggling close until he is tucked up against Kirishima’s chest, his boyfriend’s chin over the top of his head.

Really, all he needs to complete his makeshift nest is Kacchan’s fire-hot presence against his back, and Izuku is pretty sure he could just dissolve into a happy puddle.

“I… I missed you too. But- um-… Izuku?”

Izuku tucks one hand around Kirishima’s ribs, settling it in the super warm small of his back, and makes a dismissive gesture with the other before sliding that too under Kirishima’s overshirt.

“Just carry on with whatever. I’m fine.”

“Dude… cuddly today, huh?”

Izuku’s nose twitches as his sense of smell calms down and stops distracting him with Kirishima’s deliciously savoury scent to pick up on Sero’s calm and woody demeanour, Ashido’s bright and sweet flavour, and Kaminari’s ozone and geosmin essence. And then he stiffens in Kirishima’s lap, untucking himself from the alpha’s broad chest and glances up at his boyfriend from under his slightly sweaty, travel-mussed curls.

“Oh gods.” Izuku clamps both hands over his mouth, which does serve to mostly stifle the stream of mumbled apology and embarrassment which – try as he might – he never seems to be able to just bottle up and keep inside. Only after the third ‘sorry’ escapes from his lips, does Kirishima lean forward and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Breathe, Izuku. It’s OK.”

“But I just- and you were- and now I’m-”

“Oh honey, don’t sweat it.” Ashido leans across towards them, though not quite close enough to be touching, and Izuku is suddenly extremely grateful for that consideration. “Me and Ochako both get super clingy when we have to spend a whole day apart. Sometimes it just hits you real hard.”

“Oh.”

“Just, maybe you guys should find a good place to spend some quality cuddle time?” Sero suggests. Izuku feels a prickle of annoyance rise up his spine and before he quite knows what he’s doing, he’s showing fangs. Sero throws up both hands in defence. “Whoa! I said cuddle! I’m not insinuating anything! Just... go to a movie or something?”

“I thought watching was the point of seeing movies?” Todoroki says as he ambles over, bending to place a kiss on Sero’s head.

Kaminari does not cover his doubtful sneer with a faux-cough very well, and Ashido elbows him hard in the ribs.

“Oh c’mon! Like they’re gonna spend any time looking at a screen when Midoriya smells like-”

Izuku twists in Kirishima's lap sharply enough to need his alpha boyfriend’s strong arms around his waist in order not to over balance. As it is, he hisses sharply at Kaminari. The other omega turns his face in submission instantly.

“Hey,” Kirishima’s voice is low and deep and intimately reassuring against Izuku’s ear. “Maybe it’s not such a bad plan? Three of us could go watch that new horror film? You know Kats will want to prove that he’s not scared.”

Izuku sniffs, getting a whiff of Kirishima’s lovely scent once more, and collapses back against his boyfriend’s chest.

“OK. Good plan. I’ll ask him.”

Izuku hops up out of Kirishima’s lap, then frowns a the range of confused expressions around him. But he trusts Todoroki’s choice of boyfriend, and Sero is friends with Kirishima and Kacchan… Izuku chews his lip, but decides this is something which is alright to share with their assembled friends.

“We’re inviting Kacchan too.”

Sero glances at Todoroki, but the other boy simply smiles serenely and pats the back of his hand.

“I’ll explain it to you later.”

Ashido blinks in surprise.

“I never thought we’d reach the time when Todoroki was more clued up than Sero. No offence.”

***

“You two morons better not have chosen anything fucking stupid,” Kacchan gripes as they approach the cinema.

“We didn’t!” Izuku protests quickly. He’s got one hand looped around Kirishima's arm, but just as he thinks he might actually try and hold Kacchan's hand, the beta stuffs both of them in his pockets.

“I expect you want enough sugary popcorn to rot your teeth, Freckles?”

“Kacchan knows me so well.”

“Why don’t you go with him, sweetheart? Get me a drink too, and I’ll pick up the tickets.”

“OK!” Izuku chirrups happily, bouncing up on his toes to kiss Kirishima’s cheek. “C’mon Kacchan!”

“Oh my fucking gods, let go! You over excitable idiot!”

“Kacchan, language. We’re in a public place. There are kids-”

“Like I give a shit.”

“Kacchan…”

Izuku pouts at his friend, even though he is well aware that Kacchan is completely immune to any kind of emotional manipulation. They reach the front of the queue, Izuku orders, and as the person serving them turns away to ready Kirishima’s drink, Kacchan’s hand lands on the back of Izuku’s neck.

It’s not a scruff – thank gods – but Kacchan’s fingers are close enough to the same location and his hand is heavy enough, for the action to send a soft wash of caramel scented relaxation through Izuku’s body.

“You smell like you took a shower in a rainforest,” Kacchan grumbles.

“Kac-”

“It’s nice,” Kacchan continues. “And you managed not to wear any stupid Hero merch today. You’re practically presentable.”

Izuku accepts Kirishima's drink – and uses two hands because it’s so large – and Kacchan takes the popcorn. Izuku knows he should just accept the rare compliment and praise from his friend – his date, it’s a date – but he can’t. As they start heading over to the main doors where Kirishima is waiting, Izuku winces pre-emptively as he says;

“I have Edgeshot boxers on.”

Kacchan groans.

“For like half a second, you were practically cool. Never mind.”

Kirishima waves at them, three tickets in hand.

“Dude, your boyfriend is hopeless.”

“Kats! Be nice to our omega!”

“Tch.” Kacchan cannot slouch too much, because he is still holding the popcorn. “Fuckin’ fine. I cannot believe I voluntarily put up with you two morons. C’mon.”

Kirishima finds their seats, directs Izuku in first, and then steps back for Kacchan to go ahead of him.

“Eh?”

“You have the popcorn. You guys can’t share if I’m in the way.”

“Like I’m gonna eat any of this sugar laden crap,” Kacchan protests.

“Kacchan… you’ve had three handfuls already.”

“Snitch.”

“Secret snacker.”

“Nerd.”

“Wanna-be bad boy-”

“OK!” Kirishima exclaims brightly. “That’s enough out of both of you.” Kirishima herds Kacchan into his chair and then sits down. “No sniping at each other during the movie.”

“Tch. Whatever.” Kacchan sinks deep down into his chair, and Izuku glances across the top of the beta’s head at his boyfriend. Kirishima grins.

Throughout the trailers, Izuku keeps reaching for popcorn, and Kacchan keeps flicking at his fingers and shoving him softly with his shoulder. As the lights go fully down and the trailers start, Kirishima throws his arm across the back of Katsuki’s seat, fingers brushing the ball of Izuku’s shoulder. The scent of Kirishima’s warm tang of umami is thick in the air, and Izuku leans into it.

“You two are crushing me,” Kacchan grumbles, but there’s no heat in it.

By the time the movie starts properly, Izuku and Kacchan have eaten half the popcorn, and without the overpowering salt-sweet smell, Izuku gets better lungful of the beta’s and alpha’s scents. He turns his face into Kacchan’s shoulder and trills softly at the honey-teriyaki aroma which fills his senses. The men he loves smell so good together.

“Nerd…” Kacchan makes a move to shake him off, though all the movement does as far as Izuku is concerned is release a sweet waft of burnt caramel towards him. Izuku inhales hard, feeling greedy and intoxicated. “Deku…”

Something explodes on screen, and Izuku jumps, and clings tight to Kacchan’s arm. On the beta’s other side, Kirishima adjusts his grip to hold onto Kacchan’s shoulders.

“What the-?”

“It’s scary, Kats!”

“You’re pathetic, Red.” Kacchan turns to Izuku and hisses. “Why did he even pick this movie if he’s not going to watch it?”

Izuku shrugs, smiling happily.

“Be nice to alpha.”

“Fine.” Kacchan tries to shuffle his arm to reach the popcorn in his lap, but Izuku whines and refuses to let go. “Oh my fucking gods, nerd. Would you-”

“Shhhh! The movie is playing,” someone hisses from behind them.

Kacchan grumbles something indistinct and Kirishima kicks his ankle. Izuku is well aware that he if tried to do the same it would not end well because Kacchan hasn’t changed that much, but the beta doesn’t make any motions to try and move himself out of Izuku’s hold.

“Oi, nerd.”

“Kacchan?”

And then he says two words Izuku has wanted to hear for a long while, which he never thought would leave Kacchan’s lips.

“Feed me.”

Izuku tries to contain his happy little wiggle, but he can’t quite manage, and Kacchan makes another wordless grumble and Kirishima chuffs as Izuku reaches between Kacchan’s knees for the popcorn, lifting the crunchy morsels to his lips. To his surprise, Kacchan does not try to bite him as he eats.

“Here, Kats.” Kirishima distracts Kacchan’s attention with the straw of his soda, and Izuku meets his boyfriend’s eyes for a moment. Kirishima’s smile is gentle and proud and happy, and it makes Izuku want to trill.

Nothing could be better than sitting in the dark surrounded in warmth by the two people he loves most in the whole world, the air around them infused with their scents all mixed together. Izuku shuffles in his seat, and then an ache in his lower back has him clenching his arse and pelvic floor. The ache goes away so Izuku relaxes back into his seat again, keeping his hand wrapped around Kacchan’s bicep in order to watch the movie.

Kirishima stretches as they leave the cinema, and Izuku sighs happily as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend’s beautifully sculptured back and shoulders, and the lovely slice of skin revealed where his shirt rises up. He smells so delicious to Izuku right now, very alpha in a way Izuku doesn’t think he normally notices, so Izuku let’s himself look long and indulgently… Right up until Kacchan flicks the back of his ear.

“OW! Kacchan!”

“You smell like a monsoon is about to crash down and flood everything for a dozen miles, Freckles.”

Izuku blinks at Kacchan, because the beta is standing close and regarding him with narrowed, but not unfriendly, eyes. Izuku watches, heart racing, as Kacchan takes a long, deliberate sniff.

“Whatever, doesn’t smell terrible. And also like you’re two days from your heat.”

In front of them Kirishima stops and spins on his heel, eyes wide and worried.

“You’re in pre-heat? Ba- Izuku… why didn’t you say anything?”

Izuku takes his boyfriend’s hand and then slides their wrist glands together hastily, because Kirishima looks about ten seconds away from trying to scoop him up. Kirishima’s quick panic leaks through, but it dissipates easily, soothed by the contact between them. Izuku arches an eyebrow at Kacchan, who still hasn’t stepped back. Izuku inhales greedily; he loves having Kacchan so close too.

“I’m in pre-heat?”

“You didn’t know? Fuck’s sake, Freckles! Where’s your damn calendar?”

Izuku bites his lip. Truthfully, he hasn’t kept an accurate heat calendar since last year, because he only has the All Time Top Ten Heroes Limited Edition calendar with the gold foil and he cannot bear to write on it. Kacchan seems to work this out without Izuku having said anything – or maybe he’s muttering again– because the beta throws up his hands in despair.

“Two days, Freckles! And I bet you don’t have any supplies ready and you haven’t even arranged time off from classes and your internship, have you?”

“Err….”

“And you bloody haven’t either,” Kacchan snaps at Kirishima. “Useless morons, the pair of you. C’mon, let’s go see Aizawa.”

Kirishima catches his lip with his teeth, and Izuku cannot resist the urge to reach up and thumb gently at the plump flesh instead. Kirishima flushes warmly.

“Is- is it alright, to…. um-” Kirishima exhales sharply. “Would you like me to join you for your heat, Izuku?”

“Kiri-kun…” Izuku smiles, but he is cut off by a sharp and familiar growl.

“Of-fucking-course he wants you to join him, Red. Yeesh! Damn, it’s a good thing you both have me to look out for you.”

Izuku smiles as he and Kirishima are pulled along by the explosive beta.

“Yes, Kacchan.”

“Thanks, Kats.”

It’s the weekend, and everyone knows Aizawa hates his office with a passion, so they head back towards the school and their teacher’s apartment. Izuku looks between his boyfriend and his… Kacchan, and ponders how it is that his childhood friend knows his heat schedule and his pheromones better than he does.

Chapter Text

The administrative assistant gives Eijiro a look when he hands in his forms notifying the school that he is going to be on compassionate heat-leave with his boyfriend, effective immediately, but Eijiro refuses to feel cowed. As the forms are stamped for approval and pushed back to him through the slot, Eijiro preens, his chest puffing out with pride at being a good alpha. His omega wants him to help with his heat. Eijiro can think of no greater honour, and he is determined to do the best job he possibly can.

But Eijiro knows that his and Izuku’s situation isn’t entirely typical – and he wouldn’t want it to be – because there’s one person who has always – often unwittingly – helped Izuku through his heats, and Eijiro knows he can’t do this without Katsuki’s help.

“Hey, Katsuki.”

Katsuki scowls at the open doorway. It’s not a real scowl, but more the resting expression of displeasure the beta sports whenever he is interrupted unexpectedly. Eijiro knows that usually his scent would give him away on approach, but since they live next door to each other, it’s harder for Katsuki to know if Eijiro is creeping up on him or not. Not that he creeps! He just spends a lot of time trying not to stomp about and throw his alpha pheromones around like a knothead. It’s not manly.

“You want something,” Katsuki says, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest. It’s not a defensive posture, not really, but he’s not relaxed. Eijiro watches the beta’s nose wrinkle as he picks up on the scent leaking from the bundle of blankets in Eijiro's arms. “You’re prepping your room for Deku’s heat?”

Eijiro nods happily, smushing his face into the thick fleece comforter – printed with All-Might in his Golden Age, of course – taken from his boyfriend’s bed. It smells so much like Izuku that Eijiro cannot help but produce a little chuff of pleasure.

“You’re so whipped.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Eijiro asks him, just to make his friend scowl properly and wave him into the room. Eijiro places the comforter down on Katsuki’s bed where it will hopefully pick up traces of the beta’s sleeping scent. “But yes, I need something.”

“What? Spit it out Shi- Red. I have laundry to do.”

“Oh, I’m just in time then. Can I have your aji-fry shirt?”

“Eh? The fuck?”

“And that hoodie you really like… the Dynamight prototype?”

Katsuki growls at the laundry basket, which confirms that both items in question are mostly certainly in there. They’ll still smell a little of Katsuki if he washes them – because they are his and lived in and worn and loved – but if Kirishima can get them before hand, they will have a greater concentration of scent.

“But… you’re having Deku’s heat in your room?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the fuck do you need my clothes? I was actually looking forward to doing laundry this time rather than have all my fucking shirts go missing. Nerd doesn’t need to pepper my scent through his room if he’s in your room.”

Eijiro puts his head in his hands as he sits heavily, because even though Izuku told him that Katsuki had agreed to their date, it seems that the beta is still very oblivious to the fact both Eijiro and Izuku want him to be involved in their relationship.

Of the other hand, he doesn’t feel like getting exploded right now.

“Look, Kats…” Eijiro has tried to stop calling Katsuki ‘bro’, because Izuku said it will help with the whole ‘getting Katsuki to be less dense about emotions’ thing. “Izuku has always had your scent available in his heat. We’re a pack. He needs you.”

Katsuki opens his mouth to reply, but he doesn’t say anything. Eijiro can’t say that he can see the other boy’s brain whirring – because Katsuki has always thought at a breakneck speed which makes Eijiro feel like he’s crawling instead of running – but Katsuki seems to be actually considering his words rather than dismissing them out of hand.

“Fucking… fine! The nerd is so damn needy.” Katsuki digs through his laundry and tosses the two asked for garments at Eijiro at speed, as though he knew exactly where they were, then pauses. “Is that all he wanted?”

“That was what he said. He was very specific.” Eijiro gathers up the comforter and Katsuki’s clothes, and prepared to bow himself out of his friend’s room.

He hates still having to call Katsuki his friend. Just ‘friend’, and not anything more. Katsuki is so much more important to Eijiro than the simple word ‘friend’ can encapsulate.

Katsuki steps up to Eijiro and takes a deep breath, holding Eijiro’s gaze as he does so. Eijiro feels the back of his neck prickle with heat and longing. In another minute or so, he’s not going to be able to keep a leash on his pheromones or instincts any longer, because tradition be damned, he will get on his knees and beg Katsuki for a hug.

“Wait.” Katsuki steps away again, reaching over his bed to collect his pillow. “Take this too.”

“Kats?”

“Damn nerd steals it every time, has for years. I always have to go and fucking claim it back after his heat too.” Katsuki shoves the pillow into Eijiro’s arms without looking. “I know he’s your omega and it’s probably a bit much since he didn’t ask you to get-”

“Katsuki.” Eijiro does not normally like interrupting anyone, least of all his best friend, but he knows he wants to stop that line of thinking right now. “Izuku is our omega. If you want him to have your pillow, then I do too. Nothing is too much.”

Katsuki clenches his jaw, like he wants to argue, but he decides against it.

“You’ve got snacks and water and stuff, right? You’d better not let him get dehydrated and starve because you get distracted by fucking.”

Eijiro smiles, feeling brave.

“You wanna come check everything I’ve got ready?”

“Yeah. Actually, I do. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“Dude… you can throw me a really long way.”

“Hmmm…”

Katsuki tsks over the unfinished nest, picks up all of Eijiro’s hand weights and actually puts them away in the foam trays under his bed, and the helps Eijiro to tie his punching bag more securely into the corner out of the way. After that, Katsuki organises and sorts the drinks and snacks scattered across the desk with a keen eye.

“You’ve got no broth.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eijiro frowns. “I figure I’ll get Todoroki to pick something up from Lunch Rush so that it’s hot.”

“Fuck that. I’ll bring it. Just bang on the wall or something.”

Eijiro blinks at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just don’t be fucking or naked or whatever when you open the door.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I’m going to the gym. You got time for a decent workout before he gets here?”

Eijiro nods eagerly. He might be proud and happy that Izuku wants him to share his heat, but that doesn’t mean he’s not also nervous. Of all the things he’s ever done, Eijiro really doesn’t want to screw this one up.

*

Heats and ruts start in a pretty similar ways, or so it seems. Izuku has been more haptic and sensitive during pre-heat since his body is doing chemical things to get him ready for two days of intense hormones. It’s about four in the morning the day after Katsuki helped Eijiro to organise his room, when Eijiro wakes in the dark to the sound of his boyfriend knocking on his door, and his scent.. The moment the door opens, Eijiro feels himself get dizzy with the blast of moist, delicious rainforest scent. Izuku smells like a storm is about to break and Eijiro supposes in a way it will.

“Hey Izuku.”

“Kiri-kun…” Izuku takes two steps into the room and pitches into Eijiro’s arms, face pressing into his chest. “Not long now.”

“How can you tell?” Eijiro asks him, hand hovering over his boyfriend’s curls, unsure whether or not he can or should start touching and petting him now. Maybe Izuku isn’t the kind to like that once he gets into his heat.

“Itchy all over,” Izuku mumbles. “I feel like I want to scour my skin off.” Izuku tilts his face up, big green eyes luminous in the dark. “Can I just stay here now? If I go take a shower I think I’m just going to get worse.”

“Izuku… of course.”

Izuku trills happily, and rises onto his tip toes in order to press his head into Eijiro’s palm. Eijiro takes the hint, and drags his fingers through Izuku’s hair until the omega is practically purring, and heavy in his arms. He brings Izuku over to the nest, which is exactly as he left if when Katsuki helped him make it up. Eijiro didn’t sleep in it, wanting to preserve the balance of scents until Izuku was ready to use it, but now as he places the omega down and watches his boyfriend stretch and roll luxuriously, Eijiro is pleased that he made the right choice. Izuku lets Eijiro dither for a moment, then reaches out and wraps strong fingers around his wrist, intent on hauling Eijiro down to join him.

“Alpha…” Izuku whines. “Need you.”

“Yes, Izuku. Anything.”

Eijiro sinks into the nest, moving where Izuku directs him with firm touches and soft, sleepy murmurs, until he is curled around Izuku’s smaller form, arm and leg thrown over the omega, a light sheet covering them both from neck to toes.

“Mmmm…” Izuku’s fingers work into the bulk of the nest, clearly searching for something. Eijiro knows when he finds, it, because Izuku’s trill and obvious joy to the scent of burnt sugar and woodsmoke makes him chuff. Izuku presses the pillow against his face, wrapping both arms around it even as he works his back flush against Eijiro’s front, and Eijiro presses a kiss into his hair.

“Katsuki gave it to me. He said you’d want it.”

“Kacchan knows me so well.” Izuku is obviously smiling when he speaks. “Thank you Kiri-kun. You’re the best.”

“Izuku…” Eijiro doesn’t know if it’s the closeness, or the warmth, or just his body’s natural reaction to Izuku’s heat scent, but he feels quite overcome with emotion at the sight of his omega nuzzling into their beta’s pillow whilst complimenting him for getting it. “Scent please?”

Eijiro offers his wrist up wordlessly, and Izuku slides their glands together while keeping their hands on Katsuki’s pillow. For a moment, the fresh, honeyed barbecue flavour makes it seem as though they are all actually together.

In his arms, Izuku exhales and relaxes into sleep. Eijiro closes his eyes and follows him. He’ll need the rest later, if all his internet research is to believed.

*

Eijiro wakes to Izuku kneading his chest.

“Ba- Izuku?”

“Alpha is soft.” Izuku giggles happily to himself, hands not stopping their rhythmic squeezing and pressing, Izuku’s crooked fingers squishing and shaping the meat and fat of Eijiro’s pecs. “All about hardening, but alpha is so soft. Mmmmmm…” the words drift off into a purr, but only for a moment. “Comfy. Good for pillows.”

“If you like-” Eijiro starts.

Izuku rolls his hips, and the movement makes the rest of Eijiro’s body and mind wake up fast. Izuku is straddling him, his sleepshirt rucked up around his hips high enough to show that it’s the only thing he’s wearing, and his crotch is warm and hard and damp all at once where it rests over the bulge in Eijiro’s pyjamas.

“Very comfy,” Izuku confirms.

“Right… so, heat has started then?”

“Mmmhmm…” Izuku seems distracted, eyes half lidded under dark lashes. “Feels all floaty and warm.”

“And that’s good, right?”

“Very…” Izuku sighs out and stops his kneading in order to lean down and rub his whole face across Ejiro’s chest. Eijiro turns his head subtly, and when their neck glands slide together, both of them can’t keep from groaning. “I’m normally super achy by now, and too hot. But you’re like… the perfect temperature. I wonder if it’s a mass-related thermoregulation thing, or if you’re a heat-sink because your Quirk makes you like rock.”

Eijiro blinks, searching Izuku’s face as the omega sits up again, returning to his tactile fondling of his chest.

“Sorry, I’m mumbling again, aren’t I? I don’t know if I can turn it off, and I know omegas are supposed to be all non-verbal during heats, but it’s never been that way with me even though I don’t usually have anyone to talk to obviously, and-”

“Hey, hey Izuku.” Eijiro interrupts his boyfriend by reaching up to cup his cheek and jaw with one hand. “Don’t change. You’re perfect.”

Izuku chirrups.

“See, best omega,” Eijiro says proudly. He preens again, smiling and showing off his fangs, and the alpha part of his brain lights up all gold and hot-pink. It’s hard to think about anything else with his boyfriend all gorgeous and grinding and being full-on heat-soaked omega in his lap. “Can you tell me what you want, Izuku?”

Izuku bites his lip, cute little fangs indenting the plump flesh, and Eijiro groans as the sight sears itself into the inside of his eyelids. Surely no other person on the planet is as lucky as he is right now, to be wrapped in a nest which smells of Izuku and Katsuki and him, all together. For a moment, Eijiro is afraid Izuku is on the verge of shaking his head, retreating into his shyness and away from his desires, but then his gorgeous freckle-dusted thighs clamp tight around Eijiro’s hips and the omega keens.

“Kiss me.” Strong fingers wind tightly and borderline-painfully into his hair. “Now, alpha.”

Eijiro chuffs, proud and pleased, but Izuku doesn’t wait for him and the noise is stifled by the other boy’s tongue pushing into Eijiro’s mouth, licking past his fangs and crushing their lips together. Izuku tastes like ozone and chlorophyll and spring, and Eijiro gives everything he is over to the kiss which seems to last forever.

Oxygen is suddenly unimportant.

They move from kissing to just licking at each other, Izuku lying flat out on his chest as their hearts beat in time. Eijiro finds Izuku’s hand with his own, locking their fingers together, wrists sliding and scenting.

“Mmmm... that was amazing. I never knew just kissing could fix heat-ache. My alpha is so tasty.”

“Thank you,” Eijiro says softly, nuzzling into the crook of Izuku’s neck as he talks.

“I always like kissing Kiri-kun, but it’s different in heat. It’s so nice, and you’re so accommodating. They say omega heat-pheromones are different – do I smell different to you? – and it’s easier to get an alpha to do exactly what you want.” Izuku barely pauses to breathe, but he still manages to kiss Eijiro’s neck, right by the gland. It’ll probably leave a mark and Eijiro finds that the realisation makes excitement thrum through his veins. “Kiri-kun still has free will, right? I only want you to do what you want.”

“Oh baby,” Eijiro curses himself to moment he lets the pet name slip, because Izuku goes stock-still above him, tense and wide eyed. “I’d do anything and nothing with you.”

“B-baby? I’m baby?”

Eijiro nods, feeling suddenly shy despite his position.

“If you’d like to be- mmmpffh!”

Eijiro ends up with a mouthful of Izuku’s hair as his boyfriend hugs him so tight round the neck that Eijiro nearly activates his Quirk on instinct.

“Yes please! Oh, oops.” Izuku giggles as he tries to sit up, hindered by the way Eijiro has spread both hands over his lower back to keep his pinned. “Sorry Kiri-kun.”

“You want me to eat you that badly?” Eijiro jokes, feeling bold with the way his cock twitches in his boxers. To his delight, Izuku squeals and blushes crimson.

“Alpha!” Izuku wiggles his hips, and suddenly it is extremely obvious that his sleepshirt is no longer covering anything up. “No. I want you.”

“Izuku?” Eijiro blinks at him. Really, he wants to ask. Really, really? He knows it’s Izuku’s first time and it’s his too, and it’s not that he doesn’t want to have sex with his boyfriend – right now he wants little else – it just seems like something big and important and-

-and he wants to ask Katsuki about it. Or tell Katsuki. Even though Eijiro knows Katsuki doesn’t want anything to do with sex. Eijiro still wishes his best friend was here and could tell him what to do. Suddenly the phrase ‘take care of the nerd’ is too much.

“Please, Eijiro.” Izuku rolls his hips again, grinding down over his straining cock. “I need my Alpha.”

“Yes. Izuku, anything.”

“Naked,” Izuku mumbles. “Need alpha naked. Now. Need to feel you so badly, please.”

Eijiro cannot move fast enough. Izuku’s words are rushed and a little hard to understand, but his strong fingers scrabble to pull off Eijiro’s meagre clothing. In a rush to do whatever his omega wants, Eijiro ends up shredding the fabric with Quirk sharpened thumbs the moment he hooks them into the waistband. The moment his cock spring up to full attention, Izuku purrs.

“So big, Kiri-kun.”

“Umm… yeah?” Eijiro’s not blind, and not self-deprecating enough not to be a little bit proud of the way Izuku is looking at him. “What do you need me to do?”

“Lie there.” Izuku leans in to kiss him, hands abandoning his chest and instead wrapping around his shaft. “The one thing every anatomy text book and sex guide for omegas agrees on is that for heat sex, biology takes care of itself. No prep required.”

“Really? I always thought that was an over exaggeration from porn.” Eijiro hears what he’s said the moment he finishes speaking, and clamps a hand over his mouth.

Izuku giggles.

“And what have you been watching, Alpha? Something fun I hope?” Izuku kisses Eijiro’s knuckles until he moves his hand away from his face. “Here. Want to feel?”

Izuku slides their wrists together and Eijiro relaxes into the familiar scent of his boyfriend, the way their pheromones blend together and become green and fresh and savoury, and lets Izuku guide his hand down between his thighs.

Izuku’s cock is hard, and searingly hot in his palm, and Izuku moans and thrusts into the grip Eijiro is keeping deliberately soft and gentle, but when Eijiro meets his boyfriend’s eyes, he knows this isn’t what Izuku really wants. He skims lower, fondling his omega’s cute little balls, creeping along his taint until his fingers encounter wetness and Izuku squeezes his wrist so hard Eijiro thinks he feels the bones grinding together.

Izuku keens, a high-pitched warbling moan escaping from between clenched fangs, and Eijiro cannot bear the idea that he is teasing his omega – teasing is unmanly unless it’s consensual after all – and pushes forwards. Izuku’s hole is slick and warm and welcomes him in like Izuku is hungry for whatever Eijiro can fill him with. In half a breath, Eijiro is three fingers deep right to the knuckle and Izuku is bucking his hips and squeezing him with his thighs, utterly transcendent as he rides Eijiro's hand.

“Good?” Eijiro asks. He curls and flexes his fingers, trying to feel around for Izuku’s prostrate without it being totally obvious that he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing.

“More please Kiri-kun. Yes, harder, please, touch-” Izuku’s answer starts strong and deviates into a soft mumble almost immediately. Eijiro uses his free hand to rub his wrist over the gland at Izuku’s neck and decides there are worse thoughts than to use the omega’s ramble as instruction. “Want to feel Kiri-kun, need to touch. The gland feels different, everyone says so, diagrams show it’s not even that deep but – unnnghhh – deep feels so good too. Lower. Please, please, lower and it feels so close and- AHH!”

Eijiro growls with pleasure and pride when he finds what he’s looking for, because Izuku goes taut as a bowstring in his hands and Eijiro pushes up the omega’s sleep shirt just in time to have the first pulse of Izuku’s orgasm spurt across his abs. He grins, chuffing, and proceeds to rub firm little circular motions against Izuku’s prostate until the omega is a writhing, moaning mess above him and his hand and crotch is utterly soaked with Izuku’s slick.

“Feel better, baby?”

Izuku reaches out, grabs Eijiro with two fistfuls of his hair, and yanks him up until they are spilling over in the nest, Izuku’s shoulder against the pillows and the wall with Eijiro crushing down on top of him. The kiss is all heat and teeth, and Izuku nips at his lips and Eijiro tries to push his tongue as deep as possible into his boyfriend’s mouth. Izuku arches against him, until his cock poke once more into Eijiro’s lower belly.

The omega’s eyes are full of cold green fire, like deep sea phosphorescence.

“Fuck me, Alpha. Now.”

Eijiro snarls, his instincts rising to meet the challenge presented to him. It might be his first time, but already he is determined to make this the best sex his omega is ever going to have.

*

It feels like days later that Eijiro opens one eye and watches sleepily as Izuku traces his finger-tips over the wall next to the bed. The nest is a mess – pillow and blankets and clothes everywhere – and the floor beside the bed is littered with empty water bottles and hydration pouches, the crumb remnants of snacks and bits of fruit. Eijiro knows his phone is somewhere – because he picked it up to send a message to Katsuki about needing hot food but Izuku had a heat-wave and they both forgot about it after another mind-devasting orgasm – but right now nothing seems more important than watching the curve of Izuku’s jaw as he strokes the wall softly.

“Hey baby.”

“Mmm… hey Eijiro.”

“You feeling OK?”

Izuku nods, sweat damp curls barely moving.

“You want anything, Izuku?”

It’s a sweet question, innocuous, something Eijiro has asked several times throughout Izuku’s heat to ensure all his omega’s needs are met. But this time Izuku makes no request for food or water or another pillow or for Eijiro’s cock to be stuffed firmly into Izuku’s gorgeous arse until they are both wiped-out and satisfied.

No, this time Eijiro asks the question and Izuku whimpers, a soft cry of need and loss torn form his throat, and his fingers scratch at the wall beside the bed.

“Kacchan…” he whines.

Eijiro squeezes his eyes shut, as though that will block out the fact his omega is in pain because a major component of their relationship is missing. He wraps his arm around Izuku just a little bit tighter, placing his big hand over Izuku’s heart in the manner he’s learnt his omega really likes when being spooned.

“I know, baby.” Eijiro tries to make his words as soothing as possible, nuzzling into the back of Izuku’s hair, searching out the reassurance of his scent, hoping that the omega can’t tell how much he too longs for their beta to be with them. “I’m sorry Izuku. Next time we’ll all be together.”

“Eijiro…”

“I promise baby. I miss him too.”

Izuku strokes the wall again, but his other hand finds Eijiro's and he locks their fingers together as they scent each other.

“Kacchan…” Izuku whispers. His voice is still full of longing, but it no longer sounds like he’s in physical pain, and Eijiro wants to cry with relief, just for that.

“Our beta,” Eijiro murmurs softly.

“Best beta,” Izuku agrees.

They stay together like that through the next wave of Izuku’s heat, and as Eijiro fucks his boyfriend through each and every shudder of pleasure, they both keep a hand each on the wall beside the bed.

Katsuki lives on the other side of that wall, and though Eijiro is sure neither of them want him to be uncomfortable at hearing them through it, this is the closest they can get.

Eijiro will take it.

Chapter Text

Katsuki pauses outside Kirishima's door for a moment as he returns from class. He sniffs and the scent of honey teriyaki and sweet freshness like newly cut mint is strong, so his best friend and his best – whatever-the-fuck-word he needs to use to describe his relationship with Deku – are still in there. And Deku is still in heat. Katsuki glances at his watch as he opens his own door, dumping his school books and begins to ditch his uniform. He’ll hang it up later.

Deku might still be in heat, but he won’t be for long. Katsuki supposes that by late evening he’ll be pretty much back to normal.

Katsuki wonders when the last time either of them ate anything substantial was.

He flops down on his bed – not hard, because he doesn’t actually want to break it and have to pay for a new one – and sticks his hands behind his head. Katsuki huffs.

Why the fuck does he care if the nerd and his boyfriend have eaten properly? Kirishima is Deku’s alpha, and he’s a good guy not a knothead; it’s his job to provide and feed and all that care-taking stuff. It’s certainly not Katsuki's fucking job.

If it was, he’d do it so fucking well, he would make every other partner look like a fucking loser. Katsuki reaches down to trace the outline of his phone in his front pocket, wondering if there is any use in texting Kirishima to find out if they need anything.

And then he hears it.

“Kacchan…”

A whine. A whimper. So soft that for a second, Katsuki is sure he has passed out for moment and is imagining things. Though why his imagination would want to conjure that might need dissecting at some – much later – date. Maybe right after this galaxy gets absorbed by a black hole.

But then it comes again, and the pathetically small mewl of his nickname, accompanied by the sound of fingers scratching the dividing wall between his room and Kirishima’s.

Katsuki turns and glares at it, as though the plasterboard and paint are personally responsible for his… emotions.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry Izuku.” Kirishima’s voice is low and warm, reassurance in every syllable. He probably smells really good right now. “Next time we’ll all be together.”

Katsuki sits up.

What. The fuck. Did he just hear?

Katsuki knows what he heard. Kirishima, his best friend and Deku’s boyfriend, comforting Deku with the knowledge that next time – what, next time they have sex? Next time Deku’s in heat? Next time they want to cuddle? – he’ll make sure Katsuki joins them.

Why isn’t Kirishima mad that his omega is asking for someone else during his heat?

“Eijiro…” Deku whimpers through the wall.

“I promise baby.” Kirishima sounds so earnest. “I miss him too.”

Katsuki can feel his palms heating up. He really does not want to accidentally explode his bed, so he wipes his hands into his hair and stares at the wall so hard he thinks he might be able to erode the paintwork with just his eyes.

Kirishima misses him?

Deku misses him?

If they’re both in there together missing him, then who the fuck is flying this plane?

The pair of them are probably naked and sweaty and covered in slick and come, and joining all that for a cuddle should not seem like an attractive idea. Katsuki shivers. OK, maybe after they’ve showered. Katsuki falls back against his bed, realising for the first time how big it feels on either side of him.

Cuddling up with two nice warm – clean – people sounds kind of good actually.

“Kacchan…” Deku isn't whining this time. He sounds wistful, soft, slightly delirious.

Kirishima better not be letting Katsuki’s nerd get dehydrated!

Katsuki pulls on a black tank with a skull on it and a pair of sweats, then makes a beeline out of his door and directly down three flights of stairs. Todoroki is in the kitchen standing over a bowl of cooling noodles – fucker could just ice them with his Quirk but no, he says it makes them taste funny – and Sero is sitting on the counter beside him, pointing out details in the manga they are sharing.

Katsuki practically shoves him out of the kitchen.

“Get your backside off my work-surface or I’ll burn it off!”

“Bakugo…” Even Todoroki’s disapproval sounds flat. “Please don’t. It would be a terrible shame, Hanta has such a-”

“NO!” Katsuki barks. Knife in hand already, and he points it at Todoroki’s nose. “I do not need to know.”

“I didn’t know you were sex repulsed,” Sero says, sounding genuinely concerned that he’s made a mistake.

Katsuki scoffs, and begins assembling ingredients beside his chopping board. It’s a good job he also prepared for Deku’s heat.

“I’m fucking not.” Katsuki replies shortly. “I just don’t fucking care, and I don’t need to hear it. Now get out, I’m making soup.”

Sero’s eyes light up, and his alpha scent becomes all perky and interested.

“Oh! Are you making enough for everyone?”

“Fuck off, Tape Dispenser. I’m making chicken soup for Deku.”

“Oooooooh!” Sero teases, like they are fucking unpresented middle-schoolers. “For Deku, is it? Because you know Deku is in hea-”

Katsuki has never been more pleased to see someone get kissed hard on the mouth. Honestly, it’s almost more of a punch in the face with a face. He blinks in surprise, because Katsuki really didn’t think Todoroki had it in him.

“Darling, you should go now.”

“But-!” Sero’s mouth hangs open, tonguing his fangs like he doesn’t quite know what happened. “I was-”

“I love you too. Off you go Hanta.” Todoroki pushes his boyfriend very firmly by the shoulders towards the door. “I have to talk to Bakugo about beta things.”

“You have secrets from me?” The alpha’s scent twists with tangy curiosity, like sour candy on the tongue. “I wanna know-”

Todoroki gives Sero one last push, then blocks the kitchen doorway with a sheet of ice thick enough to be opaque.

“Do you think he’ll get the message?”

“I think all alphas are dumb shits with rocks for brains,” Katsuki retorts quickly.

“Even Kirishima?”

Katsuki opens his mouth to snap at the other beta, then can’t think of anything to say which isn’t… incriminating. He snarls and goes back to his soup. The broth is simmering, so he pulls apart the pre-roasted meat with his fingers and adds it in shreds.

Of course, Kirishima is a dumb-shit-alpha when he’s letting his instincts do his thinking for him – like with his horrendous sense of ‘fashion’ – but Katsuki will push an explosion into the face of anyone else who says so. Kirishima is his big dumb alpha, dammit.

“So… why are you making soup for Midoriya, Bakugo?”

“It’s not like he can do it himself.”

“Because he’s in heat.”

“Because the nerd can’t cook for shit,” Katsuki snaps back. For all his book-smarts and raw fighting power, Deku cannot be left alone in a kitchen with anything other than ramen.

Todoroki does not seem satisfied with this response.

“Surely its Kirishima’s job to provide for his omega?”

“Red’s busy.”

“And you know this because…”

Katsuki would love to say that he’s had enough anger management and therapy not to rise to the obvious bait, but his patience is worn thin. Half his brain is still up in his room, listening to Deku’s soft little whimper of his name, and the other part is questioning why. Not to mention the lingering scents of other people are extremely irritating right now – all of which smell crap compared to the sweet umami of Kirishima and Deku together.

“Because I fucking heard them through my fucking wall OK, Icy-Hot?!”

Todoroki puts his head on one side, stupid over-long fringe falling in his face.

“So Hanta was right, you are sex repulsed?”

Katsuki glares at him.

“FUCK YOU! No, I’m not fucking sex repulsed, OK?” Katsuki can hear his own voice getting louder, and his scent is giving off stressed and unhappy compounds that he can smell, but control is something he hasn’t got that much grip on right now. “Fuck you. I don’t want to think about Deku and Kiri like that. It’s weird, OK? They’re doing their alpha-omega thing and they shouldn't fucking need me around for that. I’m not involved. I’m just gonna go take the fucking nerd his fucking soup and make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration because they’re too busy screwing their brains out to take care of themselves.”

“Bakugo…”

“Fuck off!”

Katsuki reaches for his knife – not that he needs it, the soup is ready – and Todoroki freezes it to the counter, because he is a petty bastard.

“I swear to gods Icy-Hot you’d better fucking run-!”

Todoroki shakes his head. It’s such a small motion, but it draws Katsuki's attention just the same. Katsuki shoves both fists in his pockets, because he is not blowing up the kitchen until he has Deku's soup safely poured into a thermos.

“So, you think,” Todoroki says calmly, “that you’re just going to go up there, give them soup, and go back to ignoring the fact they are both in love with you?”

“… What?”

“It would be a novel way to break a heat, for sure. Heartbreak does awful things to body chemistry or so I’ve read.”

Katsuki clenches his fists so hard his smoothed and trimmed nails bite into his palms. It wouldn’t break Deku’s heat if he appeared and then left. It wouldn’t. Damn needy omega would still have his alpha. Katsuki dropping off soup wouldn’t mess with that, right? Katsuki blinks hard at the floor, holding in the frustrated confusion he can feel vibrating up his arms.

But what if it did break Deku’s heat, and hurt him? Katsuki doesn’t want to hurt the nerd – gods know he’s done enough of that in the past which he still has to atone for somehow – but the idea of not taking the soup to Deku makes his stomach roll so hard Katsuki thinks he might be sick. If he doesn’t make sure his- his- his whatever the fuck Kirishima and Deku are to him, are provided for, then that makes him a fucking loser.

Katsuki Bakugo is not a loser!

Katsuki exhales a long breath, then gets out the soup thermos and pours the rich, steamy broth in until it is full. There is a small portion left, and Katsuki dumps it – carefully – out into a bowl, and pushes it across towards Todoroki.

“Feed that fucking nosey alpha of yours.”

“Thank you, Bakugo.” Todoroki moves to begin melting the ice blocking the doorway, but Katsuki puts out a hand and stops him.

Todoroki’s scent gland under his thumb gives Katsuki a sharp jolt of burnt pine and cold salt water, and a tang of herby sweetness from Sero because they must have marked each other recently. Instantly Katsuki yanks his hand back and starts washing them, scouring soap over the thumb which touched something that Katsuki has no right to know about.

“Bakugo?” Todoroki reminds Katsuki that he is still there, like Katsuki could forget with how worried the other beta’s scent has become, but he doesn’t push any further than just Katsuki's name.

“I… don’t understand why they’d need me.”

“Bakugo-”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR FUCKING PITY!” Katsuki snaps. The words haven’t even finished forming on his lips and already he’s kicking himself for losing control. He knows Todoroki is trying to be his friend, knows the other beta is on his side, but still that soft condescending tone makes his blood boil. “They’re a pair! And alpha and omega, just like they fucking should be! I don’t need to shove myself in there just because I like fucking spending time with them both! What the fuck would they even need me for?”

Katsuki stops long enough to take a breath, and clamps his jaw shut to halt himself from saying anything else. The words float around in his head regardless: how the idea of being cuddled sounds really nice actually. How he doesn’t like thinking about Kirishima and Deku being intimate because it makes him feel warm inside, and surely that’s just fucking rude. How sweet they sounded – whispering to each other – through the wall, and how the desire to go and take care of them is so strong is feels like Katsuki is being burnt alive from the inside.

“I think you’re confusing ‘need’ and ‘want’, Bakugo. Though, I think Midoriya probably doesn’t make the distinction here.” Todoroki cocks his head to one side and melts his icy doorway. “They love you; it’s enough.” He smiles. “Thanks for the soup!”

Katsuki makes himself wait. He makes himself stand there, Deku’s soup in hand, until he is sure he can get up to the second floor without running like a lunatic. He waits until he is certain Todoroki and Sero are too far from the door to stop him with conversation, and until he has sniff-checked his hand to make sure there is no lingering trace of another beta and alpha.

He wants to see Deku and Kirishima. He needs to see them.

Soup in hand, Katsuki does not run to Kirishima's room, but only because he has regained his impeccable self-control. He brushes a hand down his front checking to make sure he’s not a mess from cooking – not because he’s nervous dammit – and tilts his head to listen.

Nothing, and certainly not any tell-tale moaning or grunting or whatever-the-heck noises people make during sex, so Katsuki raises his fist. If they’re sleeping, Katsuki doesn’t want to disturb them – rest is important – so he knocks softly.

“Hey, it’s m-”

“Kacchan!” Deku yanks the door open so hard it rebounds into the wall. Just when Katsuki is sure it’s about to smack Deku painfully in the shoulder, Kirishima appears right behind him, and catches it with his free hand. “Kacchan is here!” Deku hops with delight, his scent flooded with bright spring warmth and joy. “Kacchan!”

Deku is naked.

“Put some fucking clothes on,” Katsuki scowls, and stomps past the omega, skirting around Kirishima to put the soup down on Kirishima’s desk. “It’s a fucking mess in here.”

“Oh… er, sorry Katsuki…” Kirishima looks torn between the desire to help clean up, and his need to be touching Deku. Eventually, instincts win, and Kirishima slings an arm and a blanket around the other boy. “Were we too loud?”

“Tch.” Katsuki scowls at the desk chair. He doesn’t want to sit there – he’ll be too far away from Deku and Kirishima if he does. “Made soup.”

Deku trills. It is the happiest little chirrup Katsuki has ever heard, and he’s known Deku all his life.

“Kacchan is the best.”

Katsuki has probably heard Deku say that at least once a day for years, but somehow, having the omega say it like this – as he leans back against Kirishima's chest, his skin all flushed from his heat – brings with it a deep feeling of satisfaction. Katsuki smiles.

“Sit down so I can feed you, moron. No, I don’t trust you to use a spoon accurately, and my cooking is too good to end up in the sheets.”

“Sheets are already pretty ruined,” Kirishima says needlessly, like Katsuki can’t smell the unmistakable scent of sex in the room.

“Yeah, and I don’t want you two getting slick or come or whatever on my clothes. I’ve already done laundry, and you’re gonna need the machine when you’re done with heat.” Katsuki stalks up to the bed and bends down to drag Kirishima’s spare futon out to sit on. Inches from the bed, he inhales a rich fresh burst of Deku’s slick, and it’s not unpleasant, but Katsuki doesn’t want to bathe in it like Kirishima has obviously been doing. “Sit down idiots.”

Katsuki digs into his pocket for a spoon, but before he can get the lid off the soup, a big hand lands on top of his hair along with Kirishima's savoury scent.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Red? I don’t need petting.”

“Just checking you’re real,” Kirishima says, like it’s obvious. “Kinda thought I might be hallucinating again.”

Katsuki bats his friend’s hand away with a scowl, but he huffs instead of shouting. Kirishima is all sweaty, but it’s not like his touch is completely unwelcome.

“You’d better not be as dehydrated as I think you are.”

Katsuki pushes Kirishima back, and Deku makes a little happy noise as he falls into his alpha’s lap. Kirishima gathers up another blanket and cocoons them together. Nothing but two heads and Deku’s toes poke out, and Katsuki grunts in approval. Deku looks cute when he’s all flustered and blushing, and Kirishima radiates happiness even more than usual, but Katsuki can’t deny he is more relaxed now that they are less obviously naked.

“Open up, Deku.” Katsuki levels of the spoon at the omega’s lips, and Deku goes very pink as he takes it. “Again.”

“It’s so good, Kacchan.”

“Of course, it is,” Kirishima agrees, nuzzling into Izuku’s curls. “Our beta made it for you.”

“Yeah, and next time I’m making food for you too, Red. When did you last eat?”

“Er…. Is it still Wednesday?”

“Fucking useless alphas…” Katsuki shakes his head and watches Izuku’s lips close around the spoon once more. The omega whines when Katsuki leans away instead of feeding him more broth. “Here, eat this. All these snacks and you haven’t even got the sense to consume them.”

Kirishima doesn’t have any hands free, so he takes the piece of jerky directly from Katsuki’s fingers. Katsuki rolls his eyes – he would never hand-feed anyone else in the entire fucking universe – but says nothing. These two idiots are already an exception to so many of his rules – no nicknames, no touching, no borrowing his stuff, no fucking hugs – what’s one more?

“Can’t trust either of you to look after yourselves.”

“Kacchan…” Deku whines around the spoon and Katsuki taps his lips with it.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Freckles. I know Auntie taught you manners.”

“Sorry Kacchan.”

“Good boy.” Katsuki lifts a lurid blue energy drink to Kirishima’s lips. “And you, vitamin water would be so much better than this crap. I thought alphas were supposed to be good at this provision stuff?”

“Kats…”

“Well, at least now I know why you need me,” Katsuki sighs. Honestly, he thought it would feel better, to have worked out the clues. Sure, Deku and Kirishima are an alpha and omega pair, but they’re both sunshine-morons, too sweet to look after themselves. So, they need Katsuki to look after them, nothing new there. It’s been that way since they first met.

“No.” Deku’s voice is sharp and rough, his scent twisted with unhappiness. “We love Kacchan.”

“Mmm,” Kirishima hums in agreement, “we do.”

Deku’s hand – freckled and scarred and crooked – emerges from the blankets and grabs hold of Katsuki’s fingers. Deku’s grip is tight, forcing Katsuki to look at him.

Deku is heat flushed and dishevelled – that’s unavoidable – the bare shoulder Katsuki can see is littered with bruises and teeth marks and there is evidence of his and Kirishima’s coupling everywhere. But Deku’s eyes burn with green fire, condensed lightning which has nothing to do with his Quirk, and everything to do with his unshakeable determination to get what he wants.

“I don’t need you to look after me, Kacchan.” Deku tugs his hand to stop Katsuki from interrupting. “I want you to, and I want you to want to, because you’re Kacchan. My Kacchan- and-” the grit has gone from Deku’s tone now, and the hand holding Katsuki’s is shaking. “-I love Kacchan.”

Oh fuck, if the nerd cries now, like this, in heat, than Katsuki really is the worst friend – and/or human being – in existence.

“Hey, slow down Freckles.” Katsuki moves to hold Deku’s hand too. “Shhh… it’s OK.”

“Kats… you know it’s not just the heat talking, right?” Kirishima’s eyes bore into him, and for the first time, Katsuki can just about make out the shape of how scary an alpha Kirishima could be if he tried. “We both want you here.”

“Yeah. I know, I… heard through the wall.”

“Oh.”

“I refuse to count going to the gym as our first date. That’s just lame.”

“Kacchan…”

“Eat your damn soup, Freckles.”

“Wait, does that mean we get a do-over?” Kirishima says brightly. “Where do you want to go?”

“Tch. I’ll think of something.” Katsuki scowls; he really should have planned ahead properly. Of course the two of them are eager. He brings the spoon back to Deku’s lips, but the omega doesn’t take it. “Oi, what’s up Freckles?”

“Izuku?” Kirishima grabs more firmly onto the blanket threatening to slip from their shoulders. “Baby, you OK?”

Deku whines and wriggles beneath the blanket, but Katsuki is still stuck on the sweet, soft, casual way Kirishima just called him ‘baby’. He’s pretty sure his jealousy is palpable – and that’s something to unpack later for sure, because he hates nicknames usually. Neither Deku nor Kirishima have noticed his reaction, because Deku is suddenly flooding the space around them with the scent of mint and sweet, rich honeysuckle. It’s like he’s photosynthesising right there in front of Katsuki.

Katsuki blinks once, and then the realisation hits him right before Deku whines.

Deku is an omega in heat, and heat comes in waves, and... Katsuki sets down the soup and the spoon and moves to stand up. He should go.

“Kacchan stay,” Deku whimpers, face half turned into Kirishima’s neck, mouthing at the gland there. “Kacchan stay.”

“Baby, don’t push him,” Kirishima whispers.

“But Eiiii-” There is a lot more movement under the blankets now, and Deku’s freckles are very dark against the rich flush of his cheeks. Katsuki wants to poke them; Deku is probably putting out body-heat like a furnace.

“Sorry Kats,” Kirishima wraps both arms around his boyfriend to keep him close, but he holds Katsuki’s gaze as he speaks. “His heat is still… on. And I’ve got to- we need to- y’know.”

Katsuki nods. He wonders if he’ll be able to hear them through the wall again; he wonders if he wants to. He stands up properly this time.

“I can go.”

“NO!” Deku’s hand shoots out of the blanket nest and grabs Katsuki around the wrist. His eyes are big, nearly all black, and desperate. “Kacchan stay.” He takes a deep breath, like holding onto the ability to speak is taking a lot out of him. “Please beta. Need you.”

Katsuki looks to Kirishima, and his best friend looks stricken, but his hold doesn’t loosen.

“It’s OK if you need to go. I can manage him. It’ll be OK.”

Deku whines at the alpha’s words.

Katsuki hates being indecisive, to dither is such a shitty personality trait. You make your choice and you stick with it. He knows that going back to his room is what’s normal, probably what’s best. And he knows that if he leaves, Deku is going to cry. Katsuki really doesn’t want to make Deku cry again, except for when he beats him into the top ten pro heroes first.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Kirishima echoes.

“Kacchan?”

“I’ll stay.” Katsuki clarifies. “But I’m not fucking watching, alright?”

Kirishima’s sigh of relief comes out in a warm rush.

“Thanks, Kats.”

“Tch. Whatever.” Katsuki spins around where he sits, letting Deku keep hold of his hand with his arm wrapped across his chest. “Just, get on with it or whatever.”

Katsuki isn’t a total shut in, whatever anyone else might think, and he knows what sex is and what it looks like – though how anyone finds joy or entertainment in porn he does not comprehend. But not being able to see Kirishima and Deku even though he can hear them, has his imagination spinning into overdrive.

Blankets slip and shuffle, there is the soft sound of what Katsuki is sure is a kiss, Deku’s hand in his tugs as he moves to lay down. Kirishima sighs something, the specific words inaudible, and Deku’s whine becomes a moan. The edge of the mattress dips and shifts, nudging into Katsuki’s shoulder, and then Deku makes a muffled noise – accompanied by a wet squelch – and Katsuki knows that Kirishima has just plugged the omega up with his cock. Katsuki tilts his head slightly, unsure if he wants to hear more or less, and ducks forward as a repositioned blanket skims over the spikes of his hair. Deku moans, Kirishima groans, and their voices match pitch just as surely as their scents blend into one perfect immutable aroma of honey and spice.

When there are no more major movements from the bed, Katsuki allows himself to slump back against the mattress once more. The sounds of Deku and Kirishima fucking are small and quiet, and it irritates Katsuki to think they are being cautious of him. If the pair of them are going to be intimate together, they shouldn’t be ashamed about it, especially in front of him.

But before Katsuki can get his thoughts properly in line to reprimand his idiots – his idiots who want to date him… his boyfriends? – Deku’s fingers are pulling at his own, creeping fingertips working down his palm and across the heel of his hand towards Katsuki’s wrist gland.

Katsuki whips around, and Deku squeaks – face blazing pink – and yanks a blanket up over his head. Behind him, Kirishima nuzzles the mop of his green curls and chuckles.

“Come out now, pretty omega. Use your nose. Beta isn’t annoyed with you, baby.”

Slowly, Deku’s big green eyes emerge from the blanket – though his hand never left Katsuki’s – and Kirishima chooses the exact moment they make eye contact to do something with his hips or his cock and Deku moans loudly. Katsuki smirks; Kirishima might be all sunshine and rainbows, but he is Katsuki’s best friend for a reason.

“Having fun, Freckles?”

“Hnnnngh- so much better with you here Kacchan.” Deku squeezes Katsuki’s hand, mouth open with a soundless gasp. “Love you Kacchan.”

“Yeah Nerd. I got that.” Katsuki knows at some point he might even say it back to the pair of them. He suspects they might like that. “Hey Deku, you want to scent me?”

Kirishima’s guttural groan practically rattles the bed-frame. Katsuki flicks his gaze back up to his friend, and Kirishima vibrates with an alpha-noise of pleasure and satisfaction.

“I swear to fuck, if you knot him while we’re scenting I’ll shave you in your sleep.”

Kirishima has the good grace to look guilty, but his fangs are still on show as he rocks Deku gently in his arms. Katsuki is fully aware that they are fucking under the blankets, but it’s slow and hidden, and it maybe doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. It’s certainly miles better than hearing Deku whimper through the wall like he’s heartbroken.

Katsuki turns around fully so he can face them and be comfortable – he’s not putting his back out for these idiots, even if they do smell great together – and offers Deku and Kirishima a wrist each across the bed. The surge of affection and happiness in their combined scent is almost enough to knock Katsuki to the floor, but then Deku is holding his hand and nuzzling into his scent gland, and Kirishima laces their fingers together and drags Katsuki's wrist forward to slide against his neck.

Joy streaks through Katsuki like lightning, and suddenly he can feel everything the pair of them are feeling as he offers up his scent for them to drink in. At some point, they switch wrists, and now Katsuki knows he smells like them too. Izuku rubs his own fresh green aroma into Katsuki's wrist from his throat again, and Kirishima sucks up the taste of omega and beta both from Katsuki’s scent gland. Everything in the room is gold and warm and suffuse with delight and fulfilment; as though neither of his boyfriends could want anything more than what they have right now.

“Kacchan’s amazing.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima agrees, voice almost lost in his purr. “So good to us.”

“Course I’m the best,” Katsuki mutters automatically. He moves his hand to stroke Deku’s sweaty curls. “You OK under there, Freckles? Not too hot?”

“A bit. Better when- ahh-! Better soon.”

Katsuki arches an eyebrow at Kirishima as the mattress flexes with a particularly hard thrust. Kirishima squeezes his fingers like an apology.

“He close?”

“Y-yeah.”

“You too, I suppose.”

“Fuck- Kats-” Kirishima growls, face pressed into Deku’s hair. “You can’t just say that... ha-ha-hngh. Yeah, close.”

Kirishima’s grip on Katsuki tightens, and the beta feels the way the tension in the alpha rises as he works Deku through the rising crest of his heat. They are both flushed and dishevelled, but Katsuki pokes Deku's freckles just because he can, and thinks he rather likes that helpless, rumpled look on the both of them.

“It’s OK, Freckles.” Katsuki rests his chin on the mattress too, watching as Deku’s eyes get really big and dark and shiny-wet in the corners. “You can let go now.”

“K-Kacchan…” Deku whines. Katsuki wonders how weird it would be to kiss the boy he’s been obsessing over – in one way or another – since they were three years old.

“We’ve got you Izuku.” Katsuki meets Kirishima’s eyes again, and the alpha chuffs. “Neither of us are going anywhere.”

“Ka- Ka- ahhh!”

Deku’s eyes slam shut and his whole body goes tight and taut as he reaches his climax. His mouth is open but he’s making no noise, face twisted away and neck on show. Katsuki strokes a finger across the swollen gland there, feeling the aftershocks course through Deku as he pants. And then Kirishima is growling and groaning, teeth clenched tight, and the bed shakes once, twice, and the pair of them appear to collapse into a puddle without actually moving.

The scent of sex and Kirishima and Deku – like sticky kakuni, braised for hours to leave the kitchen full of steam and heavenly sweet umami aromas – floods the room. Katsuki grins, and leans over the bed to plant a quick kiss on first Kirishima’s forehead, and then Deku’s. Neither of them does anything more than grunt, too sated and sleepy to even acknowledge him with a smile.

Katsuki shifts his weight away from the bed towards Kirishima’s desk and his stack of school textbooks on the floor, but he’s barely gotten up on one knee when the most pathetic high-pitched whine sounds from the bed. Deku looks milliseconds away from tears, and Kirishima is shivering.

“Shhh shhh…” Katsuki pets them both quickly. “I’m not leaving. I’m just-” he sticks out a leg and successfully hooks the stack of books with his foot. “Calm down. I’m just getting a fucking book.” Alpha and omega both relax under his hand as Katsuki settles back down, making sure he is touching them both – fifteen fingers curled together – as he flips open Kirishima’s little-used history text book. “You two look about five seconds from- … and you’re passed out,” he finishes. “No great surprises there, eh?”

Katsuki rearranges the blankets which have slipped to reveal Kirishima and Deku’s tangled legs. His fingers catch on the edge of a familiar piece of black cotton, half wedged under Deku’s knee. His Aji-fry shirt is absolutely going in the laundry after this.

Katsuki leans over far enough to press another kiss to Kirishima's temple and Deku’s cute fucking freckled nose before he sits back on the folded-up futon, and tries not to think to deeply into why the gesture feels so nice and so natural. Katsuki knows he has never wanted to kiss anyone before.

The history textbook lies forgotten at his feet, and Katsuki folds his arms on the mattress and uses them as a pillow to watch his boyfriends sleep. Cuddles do look nice, he was right.

Chapter Text

“I’m so hot.”

“Mmmm,” Izuku agrees. “Yeah, you are.”

“Babe… not what I meant.” Eijiro rolls his eyes, but smiles across at his boyfriend. “He’s like a furnace.”

Izuku beams, and for a moment his face vanishes behind the curve of Katsuki’s shoulder. The beta is wedged between them, his dangerous, gorgeous hands fisted tightly in the t-shirt Eijiro threw on after wiping himself down. It’s not that Eijiro doesn’t want to cuddle with his… new boyfriend? They haven’t discussed anything and clearly, they need to; but Katsuki appears to burn at the same temperature of the sun, all the blankets of their nest have been kicked away, and Eijiro still feels sweaty.

“Kacchan has always run warm,” Izuku says softly. “Even when we were kids. We used to have sleepovers all the time before our Quirks came in and before Presentation. Every time we shared a futon all the covers would end up on the floor.” Izuku leans in and takes another deep breath, nuzzling into Katsuki’s hair and the naps of his neck. “I’ve missed this.”

“I didn’t even know we could have this,” Eijiro replies.

It’s like a dream, and not just because the only time he’s ever seen this view is in his imagination. Eijiro gazes down at Katsuki tucked against his front, and it’s like a strange flower unfurls in his chest. He feels… complete. The room is thick with the scent of him and Izuku together, all warm and lust-hazy, but now the sweet tang of toasted sugar cuts through everything. Katsuki’s scent has caramelised them, making everything that was sweet even sweeter, providing richness to all of Eijiro’s savoury base notes. Eijiro knows in his instincts that the three of them fit together perfectly.

Despite sharing dorm rooms next door to each other, and communal rooms at any number of training camps, school trips, and overnight internship stakeouts, Eijiro has never seen Katsuki sleeping before.

“He looks so… soft.”

“Mmm… Kacchan is soft.” Izuku shifts, cuddling closer to Katsuki’s back. How the omega can be so comfortable wrapping himself around Katsuki's back even though he is wearing one of Eijiro’s hoodies – it’s enormous on him and so cute – Eijiro doesn’t know, but he likes to see it anyway.

“I kinda can’t believe he’s still asleep.” Eijiro raises a tentative hand and strokes down Katsuki’s side over his ribs before reaching for the same spot on Izuku. “Figured we would have woken him up by now.”

“No. He stayed up way past his bed time. Kacchan needs his full eight hours or he’s impossible.”

“You mean he gets angrier?” Eijiro cannot imagine such a thing.

“Uh-uh.” Izuku shakes his head, dispelling a waft of fresh green pine. It is much closer to his usual scent, and Eijiro is pretty sure the omega’s heat is ending. “Kacchan is actually really bad at waking up, it takes him forever to be functional.” Izuku leans over on one elbow and rubs his cheek along Katsuki’s jaw, and Katsuki just sighs and makes a soft happy little noise in his sleep. “Kacchan has always been a really heavy sleeper.”

“I love that you know these things about him,” Eijiro replies. It almost surprises him with how true that statement is, how much he isn’t jealous of Izuku and Katsuki's history together. There’s probably no one else who knows the beta as well as he does.

“You know things too, Alpha.” Izuku finds Eijiro's hand and laces their fingers together. “You were Kacchan’s first real friend since pre-school. He trusts you so much.” Izuku squeezes Eijiro's hand and glances down at the beta snuggled between them. “Katsuki would just let any alpha take care of him.”

“I love him so much.”

“I know Ei. Me too.” Izuku sighs as he settles back into the pillow. “Unngh… I ache everywhere.”

Eijiro winces.

“Sorry.”

“Ei… don’t apologise. You were perfect.” Izuku’s scent colours with yuzu, bright and clear, trusting and confident. “I just had to use muscles that haven’t really done anything before.”

“Oh…”

“But it was so much fun.” Izuku brings Eijiro's hand up to his face and Eijiro takes the hint and strokes his boyfriend’s face, dragging his wrist against the scent gland in Izuku's neck. The feeling of warmth and comfort, satiety and completion, oozes from his very bones. And right there along with it is Katsuki's scent, an undercurrent of stability and sureness.

The beta might have shown up three days into Izuku's heat, might have thought that the only reason Eijiro and Izuku needed him was because they are disorganised, might have worried he wasn’t welcome. But his scent now says otherwise. The burnt caramel brims with confidence and strength. Eijiro smiles at Katsuki sleeping in his arms.

Whatever else, Katsuki is their balance. Or maybe they’re his.

“Is he our boyfriend now?”

“I hope so. I want to be Kacchan’s boyfriend.” Izuku smiles. “I’ll have the best boyfriends.”

Izuku sits up just enough to lean over Katsuki, and Kirishima presses a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. It’s nice to do so without the urgent, all-consuming hormonal drive of Izuku’s heat and his own answering faux-rut pushing them both to move, always more and faster. Now, he gets to just enjoy Izuku in his own time. Izuku lips are butter soft from kissing, though still chapped from his incessant need to chew on them whilst he’s thinking. Eijiro slides a hand into Izuku’s curls – dry now, but still heavy and no-longer silky soft after their enthusiastic and sweaty coupling – and Izuku moans softly into his mouth.

“Fuckin’- roll over Freckles, you are fucking squashing me.”

“Katsuki!” Eijiro grins down with delight to see the beta scowling up at them with one eye half open. “You’re awake!”

“I’m being fucking suffocated by our omega,” Katsuki grumbles.

“Oh Kacchan, I’m sorr- wait. Did you just call me your omega? Kacchan!” Izuku’s cries of delight become too high pitched for Eijiro to discern individual words, and Kirishima chuckles as the beta is hidden from view by Izuku enthusiastically trying to cuddle him.

“Good morning to you too, Katsuki.” Eijiro smiles.

“Here.” There is movement, and then Izuku yelps as he is picked up and thrust into Eijiro’s arms. Eijiro grins, hugging the omega suddenly plastered to his chest. “Take this,” Katsuki grumbles. The beta grabs a pillow and shuffles himself across the bed until he is lounging against the wall. “Now you can kiss without me being in the way.”

Eijiro half sits up – as best he can with Izuku basically laying on him – and offers Katsuki a hopeful smile.

“You know Kats, if you want a kiss too, you only have to ask.” Eijiro can’t keep the hope out of his scent or his voice. A little drop of honey that Izuku picks up on and emboldens immediately. Nothing would make either of them happier right now than having the beta lean in for a good morning kiss.

But Katsuki just wiggles his fingers in an unmistakable gesture for the pair of them to continue.

“This is fine for now. You guys kiss.”

Izuku chirrups happily, and leans in to press his lips to Eijiro once again. A micron from contact, he jerks upright again, one pointy elbow sticking painfully into Eijiro’s abdomen.

“Ow…”

“Sorry Eijiro.” Izuku attention isn’t on Eijiro though. Eijiro watches as his boyfriends observe each other. “Kacchan wants to… watch?”

To Eijiro's surprise, Katsuki’s face floods crimson, all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Not like that! Fuck you!”

Explosive hands clench into fists, one of the blankets a twisted mess in Katsuki’s lap. But Eijiro watches at Katsuki takes a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and he smiles. Eijiro tries to settle his scent – he’s not great at conscious and controlled scent production – because even more than a kiss, he wants Katsuki to stay with them, to talk to them, and he knows Izuku wants that too. They wait patiently whilst Katsuki completes his breathing exercises, and when the beta opens his eyes again, he smells far calmer.

“Not like that,” Katsuki repeats carefully. “You’re both… pretty.”

Izuku perks up and Eijiro stifles a giggle: if the omega had a tail, it would be wagging.

“Fuck off Freckles, don’t look at me like that. I have eyes, alright! You’re both pretty… you look cute together, in a stupid way. Just kiss or whatever.”

“You know, that was practically a whole compliment Katsuki,” Eijiro says, “very manly.”

“Tch. Whatever.”

“OK Kacchan. Whatever you say.” Izuku replies happily.

The omega wiggles as he stretches out along Eijiro’s front, and Eijiro’s cock gives a helpful twitch in the sweatpants he donned hastily as some point last night when Katsuki decided to stay. Eijiro grunts, because he cannot possibly have the energy to be horny now, and sinks into kissing Izuku instead. It is almost familiar now – not in a way that Eijiro thinks he will ever quite get used to the feeling – but the fresh taste of Izuku does not take him by surprise each and every time. Deep in the primal part of his mind, his alpha instincts purr happily: his omega is here in his arms, smelling safe and loved. His beta is here too, calm and not unhappy. Nothing could be more wonderful than this.

And then Eijiro’s stomach gives a very loud growl.

“I said you two were useless.” Katsuki mutters. “Stay there, I’ll find something.”

“No!” Eijiro doesn’t remember deciding to move, but in a blink he is lurching across the bed, Izuku going sprawling onto the mattress, Katsuki’s wrist in his grip. Eijiro bites his lip as he looks up – expecting to be greeted by apocalyptical rage – to find red eyes looking down at him curiously. “Please don’t go Katsuki.”

Katsuki turns his hand, and Eijiro whimpers as Katsuki’s fingertips find his own scent gland and rub there in little circles.

“Needy Alpha... Fine. Stay hungry.” Katsuki continues to drag his fingers in unconscious and extremely distracting patterns over Eijiro's scent gland. “This is nice though.”

Eijiro wants to agree – because it is nice, even though he really needs his libido to calm down and point in the other direction because no matter how welcoming the beta smells, Eijiro knows that it’s not the same as Izuku smelling that way – but before he gets a chance to, his stomach rumbles again.

“We must still have some snacks…” Izuku muses, shuffling around until his legs are tangled with Eijiro’s and his head and shoulders vanish off the bed. “Kacchan brought such good soup, so we must still have something we didn’t eat- YES!” He reappears with a triumphant grin. “Saki ika!”

“Oi Nerd. Gimmie,” Katsuki snaps.

“Patience Kacchan.”

Izuku wriggles until he is sitting up properly, and Eijiro feels kind of silly still sprawled over the mattress, so he sits up too. The movement unlinks his and Katsuki’s hands and Kirishima mourns to contact instantly.

“Honestly Ei, could you mope any more obviously?” Katsuki reaches across Eijiro for the packet of dried squid sticks and uses the movement to drag his wrist right across Eijiro’s neck gland. Eijiro shivers on the inhale: it still feels completely amazing to know – not just hope, but know – he has earned the beta’s trust. “Hey Freckles, give me the damn squid!”

“Nu-uh. My turn to feed beta.” Izuku sing-songs.

Eijiro half turns to look at Izuku in the hope that this isn’t a situation which will devolve into a fight, but Katsuki loses balance and ends up slumped against him. He huffs, but his scent is still all sticky with burnt sugar, so he’s not actively annoyed.

“Bastard… feed me.”

Izuku practically sparkles.

“Say ‘ah’ Kacchan…”

“I will bite off his fucking fingers I swear to gods…” Katsuki stops speaking so that he can chomp with added viciousness through the strips of dried squid.

Eijiro smiles when Izuku taps him on the lips with another bite of saki ika, and reaches for the packet.

“Traditionally aren’t alphas supposed to do the feeding? When is it my turn?”

“Tch-” Katsuki scoffs. “Do we look much like a traditional relationship to you Red?”

Eijiro makes the mistake of meeting Katsuki’s eyes, and his brain stalls. Katsuki is lounging against his chest, apparently perfectly comfortable with his temple and cheek squished into Eijiro's pec, and Eijiro wants to bend down and kiss the beta and stroke his hair.

“Does that mean we get to call you our boyfriend?” Izuku chirrups happily, still intent on feeding each of them in between each sentence. “I want Kacchan to be my boyfriend too. And do we get hugs? Cuddles? What about kisses? I really want kisses with Kacchan and Eijiro! And snuggling? Will you still sleep with us when I’m not in heat-?”

Katsuki shoves at Izuku and the omega yelps in faux-shock and scrambles away giggling. Katsuki growls without heat as Eijiro is sent sprawling backwards by the force. Katsuki folds his forearms across Eijiro’s chest when he ends up lying on his front.

“One fucking question at a time, nerd.” Katsuki looks away, cheeks pinker, then glares back up at Eijiro, then Izuku. Then he smiles. It is a Katsuki smile, a sharp, dangerous kind of smile: Eijiro loves it. “But yeah, we’re boyfriends.”

Warmth blooms in Eijiro’s chest at Katsuki’s words, a settling of his instincts which dreaded but prepared for the worst. They’re going to be together: and it’s not something Eijiro knew even half a year ago he could want or have, but he is delighted. He preens.

“It’s not that unusual,” Izuku begins, mumbling into his fist. “There are other polyamorous relationships, even in our industry.” He starts chewing on his lower lip, his brows crinkling together in a way Eijiro has always thought is adorable. “Miruko and Ryukyu and Hawks are all married. It isn’t that rare, even if the media only ever likes to show alpha-omega couples. Everyone suffers from poor representation and-

“Tch. Shut up nerd.” Katsuki reaches across Eijiro and prods Izuku firmly in one squishy, freckled cheek. “Like that matters.”

Eijiro blinks up at his boyfriend, shocked that Katsuki’s unthinking cavalier attitude extends even to this. Katsuki smirks.

“Our relationship is going to be so much more awesome than any of those guys. We’re the best.”

Instantly, Izuku’s eyes flood with tears, his scent filling the room with green.

“Kacchan!”

Eijiro beams, knowing his own scent isn’t far behind. His room is going to smell like them all for days.

“Bro! That’s so manly!”

Eijiro can’t help himself, and the knowledge that he doesn’t have hold himself back is awesome as he wraps Katsuki in a tight hug. Izuku jolts in surprise – people do not just hug Katsuki – but the beta exhales sharply, and then relaxes against Eijiro’s chest. Eijiro turns his head to meet Izuku’s gaze and smiles. Izuku sniffs, and Eijiro copies him: it’s Katsuki’s turn to fill the room with bonfire toffee and contentment.

Eijiro sighs happily, and leans into the wonderful sensation of having Katsuki – his boyfriend – squished against his chest whilst Izuku – also his boyfriend – leans over his shoulder. Eijiro relaxes, fingers trailing up the lovely furrow of Katsuki’s spine to the back of his neck.

And then Katsuki shoves him so hard that Eijiro and Izuku go sprawling off the bed with a series of undignified squawks.

“Kacchan?”

“Kats?” Eijiro puts out a hand, then shakes himself and switches off his Quirk, because Katsuki isn’t exploding or making sparks, he’s just sitting on the bed looking at his palms in confusion. “You OK?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Katsuki shivers visibly. “I think maybe that’s enough touching for me for the moment.”

“Oh shit. I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t ask about the hugging and-”

“Oh, fuck off Hair-for-Brains. You’re as bad as Freckles. I will go deaf from the two of you muttering constantly if my fucking explosions don’t do it first.”

Izuku gets rapidly to his feet, concern writ large over his expressive features.

“Kacchan is going deaf?”

“Jeez Nerd… never mind, it’s not important,” Katsuki growls. “There was nothing wrong with the hug, OK? Just… apparently, I have to learn where my new limits are or some such fuckery.”

Eijiro wants to hug Katsuki again, but he stops himself with a hand raised. Behind him, Izuku wraps both arms around his ribs and squeezes tight. The omega’s strong grip goes a long way towards smoothing over the prickle of upset and hurt in Eijiro’s scent, but Eijiro knows Katsuki still picks up on it, because he looks suddenly stiff and uncomfortable.

“It’s manly to respect your boundaries,” Eijiro says quickly, “or someone else’s.”

“Sure Ei. It’s just fucking annoying to not know where they are.”

“We’ll figure it out Kacchan.” Izuku’s scent is sweet and warming like honeysuckle in the spring. “There’s nothing you can’t do, you’re the best.”

“Damn straight.”

“Ain’t none of us that,” Eijiro quips. His stomach growls again, and this time, Eijiro is pretty certain his appetite cannot be sated by either dried fish or another round of enthusiastic sex. “We should maybe go eat food?”

“We should shower,” Katsuki retorts. “You two should definitely shower. You smell like… what I imagine porn smells like.”

“Is that technically a compliment?” Izuku muses with his head tilted to one side.

“Like I care. Up, up!” Katsuki jumps off the bed and starts to – gently – kick and prod at Eijiro and Izuku until they are both on their feet once more. “You wash. I will sort out the complete fuck up you’ve made of this room”

“Kacchan’s not coming with us?” Izuku moans plaintively. Eijiro hugs the omega close against his side, ready to soothe the hurt of not having their beta is sure to bring.

“We will not all fit in Ei’s bathroom and there’s no way you two are going to the main bathrooms smelling like that.”

Eijiro tucks his face to try and sniff his own hair – do they really smell that bad? – and Katsuki grabs him around the wrist and presses his fingertips very deliberately into the gland there. Eijiro groans softly.

“I’m your boyfriend, got it?” He grabs Izuku too and the omega trills happily. Eijiro takes his other hand so they are standing in a triangle. “I don’t want any of the Extra’s smelling you like this because you’re mine, even if we’re not doing any of that fucking- fucking stuff together. Doesn’t mean anyone else is allowed to think about you like that either.”

“Kacchan...”

“Oh bro… that’s so manly.”

“You’ve got to stop calling me ‘bro’ Eijiro. We’re boyfriend’s now.”

“Oops.” Eijiro winces.

Katsuki lets them both go then ruffles their hair and grins.

“Go be clean, you filthy degenerates.”

“Your filthy degenerates!” Izuku chirps back as he tugs Eijiro towards the tiny ensuite bathroom.

Katsuki doesn’t answer them with anything other than a middle finger, but he smells pleased and proud all the same. Eijiro beams as he follows Izuku into the tiny shower cubicle.

Chapter Text

Katsuki slams his locker closed and glares at the heavily abused, but still functional, metal door. It bites at his hard-fought-for patience that he needs to spend his only free time at the gym. Sure, it could be worse – it could be like it was yesterday when Katsuki was forced to tip into bed after a too-fast shower with concrete dust still in his hair, but he has other places he’d like to be..

Since the end of Deku’s heat, he has barely seen either of his boyfriend’s for more than a few moments except in class. Between internships, media interviews, media training – where Kirishima shone, Deku muttered non-stop, and Katsuki had to walk away before he exploded something – homework and classes, the three of them haven’t had time for a proper hug, let alone at actual date. And certainly no time to explore the currently theoretical limits of Katsuki’s comfort, in terms of physical affection.

Katsuki does not want his boyfriends to have to ask for permission every time they want to be near him, but he is also extremely aware of the fact that neither of them have kissed him yet. Ironically, right now Katsuki would kill for Ashido and Uraraka to declare a class movie night, just so Katsuki could have the time and reasoning to take over the big couch with his boyfriends and stroke their hair while they cuddle.

Maybe… just as long as he doesn’t accidentally explode anything or push them off the bed again. He still feels kind of guilty about that.

Deku arrives with a waft of clear, minty green scent and a happy bounce to his step.

“Hey Kacchan!” His eyes slide over Katsuki’s shoulder and Katsuki sniffs for their alpha’s scent. “Oh Kiri-kun! You look so good!”

“Yeah?” Kirishima asks, “I know Kats hates the neon Alpha-brand gear, and I figured this would work for our gym-date.”

“ITS NOT A FUCKING DATE!” Katsuki snarls, bypassing both his boyfriends and banging through the doors into the UA gym. Deku turns to him with a bright smile already quickly fading, and Katsuki grabs the omega and slides their wrists together before Deku’s anxiety can get any worse. “I told you morons, I’m going to take you on a proper date: we are not having our first date in the gym. And we’re not fucking having our do-over in the fucking gym either-” He glances up at Kirishima and takes in the alpha’s appearance properly. “What the fuck are you wearing, Red?”

Kirishima turns in a circle, hands on his hips and chest pushed out like the proud fucking alpha – and apparently fanboy – that he is. The black leggings have big, bold orange Xs up the sides and stirrups which should not be attractive, and yet somehow are extremely aesthetically pleasing. Kirishima’s tank top in a very familiar shade of green, with white and black details.

“Do you like it?” Kirishima’s scent is all over needy and sweet. Still thick and savoury underneath, but the top notes are like powdered sugar. He really wants Katsuki's approval.

“You’re wearing… us.”

“I think Ei looks very pretty,” Deku declares. Kirishima blushes hard. He still does every time one of them uses his given name. It’s kind of cute, actually. Katsuki has always though his boyfriend looked good in red, after all.

“Yeah, you look good Kiri. C’mon, let’s get started.”

Deku goes to the leg-press and starts adding digital weights on the control-console, and Katsuki settles on the seat of the lat-pull and does the same. Kirishima dithers, but chooses the chest-press and gets to work.

Katsuki counts in his head, jaw clenched to stop himself from muttering curses at the equipment. It’s not the gym’s fault that the three of them need to stay on top of their workouts during this crucial period of their growth and development as they stand on the cusp of becoming Pro-Heroes. But it still sucks that this is the first time since Deku’s heat that they’ve had anything like free time. Katsuki is already sick of sharing his boyfriends with the Extras.

It feels like they came out of Kirishima’s room the morning after Deku’s heat and got instantly mobbed. Deku looks stupid cute in Kirishima’s giant hoodie, but Katsuki will keel over dead before he admits that Kirishima has been right all along and crocs are actually super comfortable and really good at staving off fatigue durring dinner prep. Katsuki knows he isn’t going to get his aji-fry shirt back now that Kirishima has worn it: it’s like a second fucking skin on him. And then came all the fucking questions.

Are you dating? Was the heat fun? Is Kirishima going to have his rut? Are you still asexual now Bakugo?

Katsuki may or may not have thrown an explosion at their combined friends and shut himself in his room.

“Oh, hey you three.”

“Shinsou!” Deku bounces up off the leg press to greet the alpha with a signature bright smile. “How are you?”

“I would prefer to have coffee rather than…” he frowns at the bottle is his hand “...isotonic mountain blast flavoured sports drink. But I’m out of cold brew, and Iida said I couldn’t bring hot drinks into the gym.”

“Tch. Caffeinated drinks do not provide decent hydration.” Katsuki scowls. “Drink water.”

“Do you want to jump in on our rotations?” Kirishima asks, but Shinsou waves him away.

“No. I was just passing through. I’m going to do cardio. But it’s nice to see the three of you getting some time together finally. Bye then.”

Katsuki finished his reps, wipes down the machine, taking extra care to remove any lingering Quirk sweat, and stands up.

“Kacchan?”

“Don’t worry Freckles. I’ll be right back.”

Whatever Shinsou is doing on the treadmill, Katsuki would not dignify it by calling it running. It is a gentle amble at best and he sneers.

“Hi Blasty.”

“Mindfreak.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything else, not because he can’t work out what to say, but because he knows Shinsou has an opinion about him, Deku, and Kirishima all being together and he wants to hear it from the tired-looking bastard himself. After all, it kind of was Shinsou – not that Katsuki is ever going to give him the credit for it – who got Katsuki to realise maybe Deku and Kirishima weren’t inviting him on their dates as a friend.

“So, how’s Midoriya?”

“Making gains,” Katsuki replies shortly.

Shinsou arches an eyebrow, looking over Katsuki’s shoulder towards the weight machines.

“I see that.”

“That’s my omega. Fuck off.”

“Possessive much, Blasty Boy? I thought you didn’t give a shit about all the secondary gender bullshit.” Shinsou stops staring at Deku and fixes Katsuki with a flat stare. Katsuki breathes a sigh of relief that he isn’t going to actually have gouge the fucker’s eyeballs out with his thumbs, and is reminded why he doesn’t like to spend time with Shinsou without the buffer of Todoroki between them. Already he feels like the alpha is rifling around in his head. “Kirishima is good for him, Midoriya is alright with such a stable alpha. But what about you?”

Sparks crackle in Katsuki’s palm and he clenches his hand into a fist. Breathe, dammit. Anger management was easy and he can fucking control his temper.

“What about me?”

Shinsou levels him with a hard stare.

“Are you taking good care of my friend?”

Deep breaths, Katsuki reminds himself. You do not want to have to buy new gym equipment because internships do not pay with money.

“You’re fucking deluded if you think Deku needs you to take care of him.” Katsuki bristles, proud of himself for keeping his voice at least marginally even. “He doesn’t need your help, or mine, or anyone’s. Feisty little omega knows how to get what he wants.”

Shinsou’s usually acrid scent become mellow, fluffy, like he sat down in a cloud. Like he’s pleased, like he’s proud.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Katsuki bristles in surprise at the low, soft tone of Shinsou’s voice, something he is very unused to hearing from anyone, but certainly not this alpha.

“Congrats, by the way. Or whatever.” Shinsou presses the power button on the machine and steps off the treadmill. “Workouts are so laborious.”

“That you actually count that as a workout really makes me worry about your stamina, Mindfreak.”

“And yet,” Shinsou sing songs, “you still can’t beat me in Quirk sparring. Have fun on your date Blasty!”

“It’s not a date!” Katsuki snarls after him.

He stalks back over to where his boyfriends are stretching out on the mats. Deku is practically folded in half, his feet braced against Kirishima’s and their hands outstretched and linked. Katsuki drops down next to them, rolling his shoulders. He narrows his eyes at Kirishima, then Deku, then the way their fingertips skim each other wrist glands. It’s sweet, casual, as if they’re not even aware of the contact.

“Tch.”

“Kacchan?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t see how us hanging out now is any different from what we did before.”

Kirishima arches an eyebrow at Deku, and before Katsuki can react, the little green nerd springs out of his stretch, leans across, and presses a quick kiss to Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki stares, fingers coming up far too slowly to touch the place where Deku kissed him, blinking in surprise.

It’s his first kiss – from Deku or from anybody – and it wasn’t horrible.

“Now I can do that!” Deku chirps happily.

It was his first kiss, and it was over far too quickly. Katsuki wants to complain, but Deku lurches across into Kirishima’s lap, keeping his grip on Katsuki’s shirt , and kisses the alpha too. Katsuki relaxes slightly at the sight of his boyfriends together: his first instinct was right of course, and they smell and look excellent together. The pair break apart with a soft little wet noise and then Izuku meet Katsuki’s eyes with apprehension threading through his scent. He smells like toothpaste instead of actual mint and Katsuki hates that he’s the cause of it.

“That’s OK, right Kacchan?”

“Yeah, Nerd. It’s OK.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and untangles Deku’s fingers from his shirt before he pulls it entirely out of shape. The moment he finishes though, Kirishima grabs his hand and holds it.

Katsuki blinks down at their joined hands and frowns.

“Are you actually hardened right now?”

Kirishima blushes.

“Safety precaution? Sorry, babe.”

“Oh heck no.” Katsuki wriggles his fingers out of Kirishima's grip and gets up, pushing the pair of them over as he does so. ‘Babe’ is better than ‘bro’, but; “You can’t call me ‘babe’. That’s his name.”

Deku flips around onto his knees, eyes bright and shiny.

“Kacchan will call me baby too? Please?”

“Not unless you deserve it!”

“Well, what do you want to be called? You already said I couldn’t call you bro anymore.”

“My name would be a damn good start, Eijiro.”

Kirishima blushes hard. Katsuki smirks; he doesn’t think that’s ever going to get old.

“Handsome.” Deku is beaming confidently. “Handsome Kacchan.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima agrees happily. “That works.”

Kirishima’s fingers slide from Katsuki’s hand up his arm to his shoulder, and Katsuki scowls. Why the fuck is he blushing?

“Our beta is so handsome.”

“You’re after something,” Katsuki accuses. “Out with it, Red.”

“C’mon Kiri-kun. It’s manly to ask for what you want, remember?”

Katsuki smirks; he loves it when Deku is a little shit to other people. All-Might’s future successor has never been all innocence-and-light after all. Kirishima shuffles his feet and blushes a bit more.

“Can I get a kiss too?”

Katsuki refuses to act as ridiculous as his boyfriends, and so he schools his face into a faint smile, as opposed to Kirishima who looks exactly like an eager puppy begging for a treat.

“You keep your tongue to your damn self, alright Red?”

“Yes Katsuki!”

Katsuki grabs Kirishima’s hair as he yanks the alpha down for a kiss. Kirishima’s lips are not quite as soft as Deku’s, but warm and plush, and it’s nice to have Kirishima’s big hand resting on his waist. Katsuki thinks he might like that as a place to be touched every now and then. They break apart, and Kirishima exhales a cloud of happy pheromones.

“You’re both too easily pleased.”

“We have the best beta,” Kirishima sighs.

“Kacchan is awesome,” Deku agrees, sounding wistful.

“You two are hopeless.” Katsuki rolls his shoulders. “Are we sparring or what?”

Katsuki and Deku go head to head first, and Katsuki quickly realises that the omega didn’t lose any condition during his heat. If anything, he gained some more muscle, because the thighs trying to crush Katsuki’s ribs are doing a good job. Katsuki knows it is a dirty trick – something he has only ever been able to use on Deku, but he uses all his flexibility to reach around and grab the back of the omegas neck, and scruff him.

Deku goes limp and heavy above him.

“Kats! You- again-?” Kirishima looks on aghast. “That’s cheating.”

“Not my fault, freckles left himself open like that.” Katsuki says, extracting himself from underneath Deku.

“Because you’re always guarded?” Kirishima retorts.

Katsuki doesn’t have time to open his mouth, before the alpha’s hand lands on the back of his neck, finger and thumb squeezing just so before he is shaken.

Nothing happens.

Well, nothing but Katsuki’s fists both exploding in a gout of smoke and fire.

“What the fuck Eijiro?”

Kirishima is looking at his own hand, confused.

“Why aren’t you all floppy?”

“Because I’m not an omega, Rocks-For-Brains. I don’t have an off switch!”

“Oops,” Deku giggles up at them from his prone position on the floor.

“But, but I’m an alpha” Kirishima whines. “It’s supposed to work just the same.”

Katsuki takes a deep breath, shaking off the weird goosebumps which prickle across his scalp. Kirishima’s scent in laced with the burnt-fat taste of worry and self-doubt.

“Yeah, yeah Red. You’re still a proper alpha. Didn’t you tell me scruffing is a sex thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well then, maybe that’s why I’m immune. I don’t do sex things.”

“That makes a lot of sense actually.” Deku rolls his head on the mat, grinning up at them both. He looks delightfully slack and loose limbed still, even if the full effects of the scuff are wearing off. “Kacchan is so smart and pretty.”

“Tch… thanks.” Katsuki arches an eyebrow at Kirishima, and then Deku’s grin changes turning sly. Katsuki loves it when he and the Nerd have the same thoughts. “Bet Ei has an off switch though.”

“Huh?”

One day, Katsuki thinks, Kirishima will get wise to all their tells, and neither he nor Deku will be able to slip by him like this. One day after many years together, they’ll know each other backwards and front, and trickery will not be so easy. One day, but not today.

Katsuki wraps his hand around the back of Kirishima neck, right at his hairline, squeezes and shakes, and Kirishima moans – loudly – right before he drops on his knees like a stone.

“Well would you look at that,” Katsuki crows, “Alphas can be scruffed too. This is a good not-date: neither of you can talk, and I can practice my inverted yoga poses in peace.”

“Kats….”

“Shhh.” Katsuki presses a finger to Deku’s lips, then thinks better of it, and bends right over to kiss him instead. “This isn’t a date because I’m gonna take you both to that stupid fluffy cat-cafe place Cheeks and Ponytail have been going on about. But they’re not coming too. Just us.”

“Aww Kacchan…” Deku kisses him back, just about able to turn his head far enough to capture Katsuki’s lips.

Beside them, Kirishima grunts.

“Don’t worry,” Katsuki assures his alpha. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Kirishima can’t kiss him back – he’s still too far gone under the scruff to do much more than breathe hard – but Katsuki strokes his boyfriend’s hair and ruffles Deku’s curls before he begins to stretch into a complex asana.

It’s not a date, but it’s a pretty successful afternoon in Katsuki’s book nonetheless.

***

Le Café Des Chats is woodland themed. The scent purifiers blast them when they first walk through the airlock – or catlock – style doors, and Katsuki drapes an arm across Kirishima’s shoulders when his boyfriend shivers uncomfortably.

“Told you to wear a jumper, Red.”

“But Kiri-kun is also so warm,” Deku chirrups, pressing up against the alpha’s other side.

They stow their shoes, but the moment their host opens the inner door, Deku is bouncing away. Katsuki is almost surprised not to see green lightning crackle after him.

“Oh my gods Kacchan! They’re all so cute!”

Katsuki drags all ten fingers through his hair and groans, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea to bring his two super-sunshine boyfriends to a place filled to the brim with soft fluffy animals. Of course they are already extra excited.

He leaves Kirishima to talk to the host and find their reserved space on the zabuton arrangement near the foot of the ‘tree’ in the centre of the café. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he approaches Deku. His nerd is crouched down, head half in a plush boulder cave where a stripey yellow cat is watching him distrustfully.

“Look Kacchan, they look like All Might!”

“Freckles…. It’s a cat.”

“It’s a cat who looks like All Might,” Deku insists. “Come on Kitty-Might. I am here. I want to play with you.”

The cat hisses.

“OK, Freckles. Time to leave the cat alone before it scratches your scent glands.” Katsuki hauls Deku up, closing his fingers tight around the omega’s wrist, and his hand tingles as Deku’s fresh pine scent seeps into his skin. “Let’s go back and sit with Ei.”

But when they turn around, for a moment Katsuki panics, because he can’t see his alpha anywhere. Deku feels it too, because his scent becomes sharp and worried for a moment, but by the time Izuku has linked their fingers, squeezing tight, Katsuki has spotted two familiar legs – though without their signature red crocs – sticking out from under a veritable pile of cats. Kirishima's hands strokes soothingly across the red and white blotchy pelt of a cat draped across his whole tummy.

“Did you order drinks, dummy?” Katsuki prods Kirishima’s foot with his toe.

“Mmmm… tea is on it’s way. I got you a ginger ale.”

Katsuki opens his mouth to complain, but then decides better of it, and sits down. Another cat – pure black with purple eyes – wanders over and butts its head against Kirishima's cheek.

“Oh hello. Would you like some love too pretty one?”

Deku makes an unhappy grumbling noise in the back of his throat.

“Jealous much Freckles?” Katsuki teases.

“I want a cat to sit in my lap too.”

The drinks arrive, and Kirishima sits up much to the annoyance of several of his new feline friends, and their host drops off a basket with a selection of cat toys for them to try out. The red and white cat is very keen to chase the bundle of feathers on a little twitch-stick, right up until the moment Kirishima hands it to Deku. The cat sits down, lifts and leg, and then very obviously begins to lick its own groin, all while watching them. Katsuki sneers.

“I suppose I should be thankful neither of you can do that.”

“Kacchan?”

“Kats?”

“Though I suppose it would stop you from talking.” Katsuki shakes his head. “Don’t you think it looks like Half-and-Half?”

Deku pushes his shoulder, and Katsuki bumps into Kirishima, who wraps an arm around his waist and turns to nuzzle his neck. The black cat in his lap turns away to show it’s back to Katsuki.

“And here you said cat-might was ‘just a cat’!” Deku accuses. He leans down on his elbows to get level with Half-and-Half cat. “Please be my friend, Todo-kitty.”

Over the next hour, every attempt both Katsuki and Deku make to befriend the cats fails miserably. Katsuki snarls when Deku manages to get the orange stripey cat to sniff his hand, but it refuses to be petted, sitting slightly further out of reach each time Deku shuffles his cushion closer to it. Not to be outdone, Katsuki gets up to try and talk to a cat sitting in the cat tree, but it climbs up and away from him with its tail puffed up. Katsuki is pretty sure if he reaches for the damn thing, it’ll take a swipe at him and they might get kicked out of the cafe.

And he can’t do that to his boyfriends. Kirishima looks so happy.

“Useless feline,” Katsuki mutters to the cat. It hisses at him.

Deku is moping, chin in hands, still devoid of cats whilst Kirishima seems to be wearing one like a scarf and petting another three.

“How does he do it?”

“He’s the cat whisperer. Maybe it’s an alpha thing?”

“Tch.” Katsuki settles down next to Kirishima, their knees touching, and hauls Deku into his lap, nosing into his scent glands. “Come here and be my kitty instead.”

Deku goes red. Kirishima turns pink and the air around them suddenly becomes very very hot.

“K-Kacchan?”

“Kats… did um mean…”

Katsuki feels his eyes go wide, and buries his face in Deku’s ridiculously soft hair.

“Shutthefuckup. Not like that.”

Deku wiggles in his lap, but it’s comfortable – warm and heavy – and Katsuki just feels relaxed to have his arms tight around his boyfriend’s waist while Kirishima rests his temple on his shoulder. Maybe he really does like being in the middle of these two.

Cat-Might stalks over, and drapes themself across Kirishima’s knee. With tentative fingers, Katsuki watches as Deku reaches out ever so slowly, and pets them. The cat makes a little ‘mmrow’ noises, and goes to sleep. Deku lights up like his Quirk.

“Kacchan…”

“Yeah, I know.” Katsuki pets Deku’s tummy. “I let you win.”

It’s a far cry from Hero work, but maybe it’s a good idea to compromise sometimes. His boyfriend’s smell happy, content, and though they still make eyes at each other, Katsuki doesn’t miss the hard pining stares across the gym. Getting his best friend and his best nerd together was a great idea, but only he’s glad he realised the missing ingredient was him.

Huh, maybe he should buy Half-and-Half a drink.

Then Katsuki spots Todo-cat sitting next to his drink, licking its balls again, and decides Todoroki can buy his own fucking drinks.