Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was official. Katsuki hated realtors. They were pushy and nosy and for the last week, they had shown him a bunch of shit he didn't want or need. 

He was a Pro Hero. An alpha Pro Hero with a kick-ass public image. He was loaded. That did not mean that he wanted to live in a mansion made out of glass. That was hideously impractical, and goddammit he didn't need it.

But that's all the fucking realtors would show him. The only request he'd made was to be shown homes that weren't over-the-top and ostentatious. He wasn't even completely sure what he was looking for! But the fucking vultures had seen a big-ass wallet and decided to parade him around fucking palaces.

He was a Top Ten Pro. He'd barely be home. What the fuck was the point of a mansion if you only saw the living room and bedroom? He wouldn't even have time to clean it all.

There was one manor-style house he'd been shown, and it would have taken him a week to get from the kitchen to the dining room the place was so huge.

"I can go with you, if you want," Deku offered, calmly flipping through his paperwork. It was the end of the day, and he'd been bitching the omega's ear off about real estate for the past hour. "I know you're not putting your foot down because you're not sure what you want. I can help them narrow it down with you."

"I just wanna see some fuckin' options that wouldn't take an army of maids to clean and a golf cart to navigate," he huffed, slumping into Deku's spare chair.

"I can help," he repeated. "I helped my mom find a new place a couple of years ago, remember? They tried to show me some super fancy places, too. Until I told them that most of my personal assets were tied up in agency registration fees—"

"Not exactly a problem anymore—"

"I still know how to get them to focus," Deku told him cheerily. "Let me come! At the very least, it's a second set of eyes. And I can try to turn the things you don't like into a list of what you're looking for!"

Katsuki squinted at him. "Fine. Whatever. Be at my place at 7."

Deku looked at him sharply, eyes wide with alarm. "In the morning? On our day off?"

"I wanna get as many fit into one day as fuckin' possible," he muttered. "I don't wanna waste any more of my free time looking at shit I don't want—"

"Fine," the omega sighed. "But you gotta get Ei to come too."

Katsuki frowned. "Why?"

Deku had the audacity to raise an eyebrow at him. "So that he can distract you while I instruct the realtor. That early in the morning? I won't have the energy to get the realtor to behave and get you to not blow them up. I'm only human."

Katsuki scowled at him, but dug his phone out of his pocket and fired off a quick text to Eijirou. "I'm not that bad."

Deku's shitty eyebrows raised even further. "Look, you're my favorite person. Probably in the world." Katsuki flushed but waited. There had to be a catch. "But last week, an intern dropped a pencil in front of you and you called them a brainless twat-waffle. You're amazing, but you're also a bit of a hair-trigger. I don't need to tell you that. You're self-aware."

That's true. He was self-aware. But fuck Deku for saying it anyway. Even if he was Deku's favorite person. He tried very hard not to preen at that. Obviously he was Deku's favorite person. He was the fuckin' best.

"Whatever," he grumbled. Deku smiled at him, all soft and fond. "Thanks, nerd."

When Deku showed up at his flat in the morning, Katsuki balked. He was consciously aware that Deku was perceived as cute, but he'd never really seen it. For some reason, he was pretty close to understanding it today.

Maybe it was just because he looked so cozy? He was wearing an oversized cardigan, and his hair was sticking up in all directions like he'd just rolled out of bed. He was pouting and squinting as though the light were personally offensive to him.

A wave of aggression came over him. He wanted to pull Deku's cheek off his face. So he did. "Why do you look half dead," he barked, stretching the freckled cheek to its limit while Deku whined at him.

"Leave me alooooooone," the omega whined back, slapping at Katsuki's hand. "It's too early for this, Kacchan!"

"Such a baby," Katsuki teased, dropping his cheek and smirking as Deku scowled at him. "I made you coffee, so quit whining."

"Gimme," he demanded, shouldering past Katsuki and making his way into the flat. A face full of Deku's scent smacked into him as the omega passed.

"You're not wearing scent patches," Katsuki uttered. Usually, Deku's scent was covered by his work collar or, if they weren't working, scent patches. He always made sure to at least dull his scent around others, so it was weird that he was patchless when they were gonna be meeting someone new.

"Part of my strategy," he replied, filling the largest travel mug Katsuki owned with coffee and then filling another mug for him to toss back on the spot.

"You're gonna burn your tongue, stupid!" Katsuki hissed.

"I don't need tastebuds, I need coffee," Deku snapped.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean, it's part of your strategy?" he asked as Deku drained his mug.

"I mean, it's easier to keep people compliant with omega pheromones," he muttered around the rim of the mug.

"Isn't that unethical?"

"Absolutely. But it'll get the job done, and it's not like I'm gonna flirt with the realtor to get them to join the League or something."

Katsuki bared his teeth. "You're gonna flirt with them?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "Depends on what they're like. I might pretend to be your omega so I can play distressed when I don't see stuff I like."

He knew the nerd could be sneaky and underhanded, but it was wild to see him use his dynamic to pull it off. And the idea of Deku pretending to be his omega was...weird. "I don't like it."

"More or less than you dislike the houses they've been showing you?" Deku replied, completely serious. Katsuki considered it.

"Less," he decided somewhat bitterly.

Deku nodded. "I'll keep it to a minimum, I just want you to get something you like."

Fuck, Katsuki was so grateful to have Deku as a friend. He didn't deserve him at all, but here the fucker was at seven in the goddamn morning, preparing to puppeteer the absolute shit out of his unsuspecting realtor.

They swung by to pick up Eijirou before meeting the realtor at the first house. Izuku peeked out the window as soon as they arrived, scoping out the violet-haired man who was leaning against an SUV, leafing through a folder of listings.

"Scent me," he said suddenly, leaning down to rifle through the bag he'd brought with him. Katsuki looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "He's an unmated omega, and he's probably looking to turn a high-end client into a high-end mate," he explained. "So we're gonna let him think we're courting, and we're gonna dangle Ei in front of him as a potential carrot."

He had pulled a sheet of patches out of his bag, but instead of putting them on himself, he threw them at Ei. "Put those on," he instructed, emerald eyes laser-focused.

"Scent patches?" Eijirou asked.

"Enhancers," the greenette smirked. Katsuki's heart thudded. Vicious had always been a good look on Deku. "Not strong ones, we're not trying to trigger his cycle. Just...make him a touch more compliant with your requests."

He'd pulled a courting collar out of his bag, and was slipping it on. Seeing it did something weird to Katsuki's stomach. It was pretty—simple green satin with a silver clasp—and it matched his eyes. Those eyes turned to him as Deku held out his wrists.

Silently, Katsuki ran his wrist over Izuku's. His eyebrows raised when Izuku started purring—a gentle thrum.

"Shut up," Deku huffed. "I always purr when you scent me. It's relaxing. Now scent my neck, too." They both blushed when Katsuki complied, dragging his wrist across Deku's pretty collar.

"You two...finish whatever this is, I don't wanna reek of you two all day so I'm gonna step out," Eijirou said, pushing open the door and escaping.

Katsuki pressed his wrist down a little harder. Both of them were purring now. "You gonna do me, nerd?"

Deku blushed violently. "What?!"

Katsuki smirked. Pervy little nerd. "Are you gonna scent me back?" Deku rolled his eyes, but lifted his wrist and pushed it against Katsuki's neck with significantly more force than necessary. The alpha repressed a shudder as his hero partner scented him thoroughly.

It wasn't weird for them to scent each other. They were best friends, and it was a comfort thing. But this felt different. In a weird way.

What would Deku be like as a mate?

He pushed that thought out of his head. It definitely wasn't his business. "Ready?" he asked.  Deku nodded but didn't move his wrist. He was swiping it in small circles across his throat. He was flushed—even his freckles were darker. At least he knew that whatever the fuck was happening right now was affecting him too.

"Yeah," he uttered. "Let's go."

The realtor did not look happy to see Deku there, and Katsuki immediately knew he made the right play. He took in the way Deku's hand was curled possessively around Katsuki's bicep and his face soured.

"Good morning, Mr. Bakugou," he greeted them, stance stiff and tone almost too polite. "I didn't realize you were bringing company."

"Yeah. I wasn't happy with any of the houses your coworkers showed me, so I brought help," he snapped. Deku smoothed the hand that was grasping Katsuki's arm up and down in soothing strokes.

"We figured that we could help him narrow down what he's looking for," Deku explained, smiling sweetly. Katsuki relaxed as Deku stroked his arm—the movement almost hypnotic.

"And you are?" the realtor asked, just shy of rude.

As if he didn't know who Deku was. Deku was #8 to Katsuki's #7 in the hero rankings.

Deku's smile widened, and Katsuki's pulse went up when it grew sharp—almost threatening. "I'm Kacchan's omega," he replied, honey dripping from his tone. He said it with so much pride that it almost felt real. It made his stomach feel all weird and fluttery. Like he might puke. "I'm Izuku Midoriya. I don't think I caught your name?"

He introduced himself as Mr. Watanabe, and Deku shook his hand cordially before passing him along to Eijirou. "I'm Kirishima," he said, sticking his hand out. The realtor went stiff for a moment, before blushing.

"Of course, the indestructible Red Riot. Pleasure to meet you," he crooned.

"Kiri's planning to start house hunting soon, so he's also here to get a feel for the process," Deku explained, same sweet smile on his face. Katsuki was probably the only person on the planet who could detect the twinkle of triumph.

"We'd be happy to help you with your own search when the time comes, Mr. Kirishima," Watanabe smiled.

Eijirou gave a sincere smile. "I'd really like that. Bakubro's been having trouble with other realtors, but you seem like you're really good at this!"

Watanabe blushed, and Katsuki could see why. He'd only ever seen Eijirou turn on the charm like that when he'd briefly dated Denki in high school—and that had been without the scent enhancers. With them, he was basically a weapon.

The implication was clear. Do a good job for Katsuki and his omega, and you'll be the person I go to for my house-hunt. That opened the door for referrals to the rest of the Demolition Squad and their UA peers. The destructive members of Class A were infamous and loaded.

"We'll see what we can do," he agreed with his pretty smile. "You didn't give us many criteria—"

"I said nothing more than two stories," Katsuki huffed, turning to look at the house in front of him. "This has four."

Watanabe fidgeted. "Well, we can narrow down your criteria this way. We can tour the place and see what features you do and don't like and narrow your options from there."

"To be really fucking clear," Katsuki sneered. "I don't like gigantic houses that'll be impossible to maintain on my own. I just need enough for two people at most. Deku doesn't even live with me yet."

The realtor swallowed thickly and nodded, opening his little black padfolio and scribbling notes in the margins of the listing flyers. "I'll make sure we find something more suited to your tastes," he promised.

"We really appreciate it," Deku simpered. Katsuki suppressed a grin. Good cop, bad cop. He was making it clear that he was the more reasonable and friendly of the two of them—even if he'd put a damper on the realtor's plans.

They toured the house, and Katsuki marveled as he watched Deku go to work—listing off all the features that seemed to be up Katsuki's alley and making sure the realtor scribbled them down.

"Don't you think it would be nice to have a home gym? Look at the size of this kitchen! You've always wanted marble countertops—remember the ones in Momo's place? You were drooling over that kitchen for weeks. Twelve rooms is a bit much don't you think? I think we'd—sorry, you'd be fine with a couple guest rooms, but this is really too much. Look at the size of these closets! Big closets are a must don't you think? That way your mom can send you as many samples as she wants and we—sorry, you—won't run out of room!"

Deku was an amazing actor. He played lovesick courted omega frighteningly well—intentionally slipping up and using 'we' in every other sentence and clinging to his arm excitedly as he pointed out new things.

Some of them were Katsuki's preferences, and he made sure to enunciate those loudly—practically yelling about the things that Katsuki wanted so that Watanabe would note them down.

Then there was the quieter mumbling—the things that Deku liked for himself that he couldn't help but voice out loud. It was one of Deku's most endearing traits. His inability to keep his mouth completely shut.

"Oh, wow, a library. I should get something like this, it would be perfect for displaying my merch collection," he'd murmur under his breath. Katsuki agreed with that—he had merch too, after all. He mentioned it to the realtor as a bonus, not a must-have.

"Oh, that's pretty," he whispered, tilting his head as he glanced at the accent walls. "I should do something like that. The colors are nice, don't you think?"

Katsuki shrugged. Home decor wasn't really at the top of his priority list, but he supposed it was aesthetically pleasing.

"Oh, the balconies are nice," he cooed. "Imagine eating breakfast out on one of these during an off-duty day."

It went on and on, from house to house until Katsuki miraculously had a picture of what he wanted in his head. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen anything that fit the description. Although, thanks to Deku he was getting warmer.

At the end of the day, they hadn't found the right place so they called it quits. "We can reschedule for next weekend if you'd like," Watanabe offered. "I think you made some great progress! I have a much clearer picture of what you want now."

Deku squeezed his arm, and Katsuki took it as both a congratulation and a very subtle 'I told you so.'

"I'll be out of town next weekend, but I think Kacchan can probably handle it," he replied, grinning. "And if not you can always FaceTime me, right?"

Katsuki huffed a little laugh. "Sure, baby," he said, only realizing what he'd said a full five seconds after. Deku's entire face had gone pink and Eijirou was wheezing somewhere behind him. He valiantly kept himself from flinching even as his ears burned. He had not meant to throw in a pet name. "Works for me."

Katsuki dropped Deku off first, smiling as the omega clambered out of his car. "Thanks for today, nerd."

"No problem! It was fun," Deku assured him. "And you've got a super solid foundation now!"

"It was very informative," Eijirou agreed from the back seat. Katsuki assumed he was referring to the fact that Deku was willing to dangle him like a piece of meat in front of his adversaries.

"Seriously, nerd. I owe you one."

"Fine," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. The motion drew Katsuki's eyes back to the courting collar—smooth, satiny emerald green that was still drenched in his scent. "You can buy dinner tomorrow."

Right. Tomorrow was movie night, where they'd probably be watching every single All Might film in existence. Again. "Fine," Katsuki agreed.

Katsuki waited until Deku was safely inside the building. Just because Deku could absolutely handle himself didn't mean he shouldn't take precautions. It was literally his job to watch Deku's back.

"Baby," Eijirou muttered incredulously. "You called him baby."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Dynamight, a Mr. Watanabe is calling your personal line. Should I patch him through?"

Katsuki was on patrol, and it was painfully dull today. Not even a kitten to save from a goddamn tree. "Yeah, sure. Might as fuckin' well."

The operator laughed but connected the call before Katsuki could bark at him for having the audacity to laugh at him when he was already agitated. He should clock that shitty extra in the head with his stupid-ass computer.

"Mr. Bakugou?" Watanabe called, interrupting his somewhat violent train of thought.

"The hell do you want?" he snapped.

"A house just went on the market—but it's in an incredible location and there are already offers on it. But it fits most of your criteria! You need to see it."

Katuski's heart raced. "I'm on patrol for two more hours."

"I can schedule a viewing for seven, would that work?"

"Sure," he agreed quickly, shooting a text to their office manager to let her know that he'd be completing his paperwork in the morning before his shift started. "Hey, uh...thanks. For being on top of this. I appreciate it."

Watanabe chuckled. "Just remember that when your friends start house hunting, Dynamight."

He spent the rest of his shift practically vibrating in anticipation. He hadn't seen the place yet, but the realtor sounded so excited about it. This might finally be it. He might never have to look at another realtor again.

When Watanabe took him on a tour of the house, Katsuki felt it in his goddamn bones. This house was his. As he walked through the rooms and half-listened to the realtor-babble that was spewing from Watanabe's mouth, he could see each room exactly the way he wanted it.

They walked into the last room—a room lined with shelves that were temperature-controlled. "It says here that it's hermetically sealed—the last owner was a collector of pre-quirk comic books, so he'd built a library. I overheard Mr. Midoriya mentioning—"

"Stop," he said, holding up a hand. "Call the owner. Tell them I'll offer double their highest offer."

Watanabe's eyes bugged out of his skull. "Double?" he asked incredulously. "Are you sure? That's significantly over market value and it's expensive to begin with—"

"Listen to me," he said, staring Watanabe down. "Whatever it takes. Place what you think will be a winning bid, and if someone goes over me—fucking raise it. This is my home."

Watanabe smiled at him, hesitant but pleased. "Yes sir!"

He rolled his eyes as Deku fumbled with the keys to his flat. "Hurry up, nerd!" he barked, shifting the weight of the bags in his arms.

It was Thursday night—and they both had Friday mornings off. They'd been using their Thursdays as low-key movie nights for years. Katsuki would cook, they'd eat while watching a movie, Deku would clean, and then they'd watch re-runs of old shows until one of them fell asleep.

"Sorry," he laughed, finally pushing the door open. "So impatient, Kacchan."

The tension eased off his shoulders as he entered the omega's apartment. It smelled like Deku—like warm, sweet comfort and familiarity tinged with strawberry blossoms and spearmint. 

"I'm not impatient," he huffed. "You're just slow as shit."

"Impatient," Deku sang, hanging up his coat.

It had been almost a month, and his own home wasn't worn in yet. It had been drenched in neutralizers before he'd moved in, and it still smelled sterile. It was something that he was working on, but he couldn't relax there yet. For fuck's sake, he still slept in his old apartment because he didn't feel secure there yet.

He hadn't had anyone over yet. He wanted it to at least feel like his home before people invaded it. His alpha was finicky about territory—always had been. He didn't want anyone's scent to overpower his, and he didn't want anyone's shitty opinion on how it should look. 

Deku's place was a little small, but worn in and comfortable. Like a favorite sweater that you were outgrowing—soft to the touch and soothing. It reminded him of Auntie Inko's old apartment.

Katsuki made himself at home, kicking his shoes off and traipsing into the kitchen—getting to work as soon as he put the bags on the counter.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower.

"I don't know why you still feel the need to tell me that when it's what you do every time," Katsuki chuckled.

"Because I'm polite," he sniffed imperiously.

Deku had worked hard today, and he'd taken some serious hits. He was a little annoyed with Katsuki, too. Ever since the house hunt,  Katsuki picked up a bad habit—snapping at other alphas who got too close.

As far as he could tell, the whole thing had reminded him that Deku was an unmated omega who had to cater to subgender pissing contests to get what he wanted. It had made him a little protective, which Deku did not appreciate.

By the time Deku got out of the shower, Katsuki was already half-done cooking in his tiny-ass kitchen. "You need to organize your shit better," he huffed.

"I don't have that many drawers," he chuckled, rubbing his curls down with a towel. "Stuff's gotta go where there's space."

"At least fuckin' alphabetize, fucker," he snapped. "It took me ten fucking minutes to find your spider."

"...my what?"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, turning to give him an unimpressed glare. He held up the metal strainer-spoon. "This. The thing I use to pull your precious pork cutlets out of the fucking fryer, shithead. It's called a spider. And you put it with your silverware instead of the rest of your cooking utensils," he scolded.

"If you have a problem with my kitchen, go cook in yours," Deku huffed. Katsuki turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You good?" Katsuki asked him earnestly. That had been at least 10% bitchier than Deku's standard bitchy allowance.

Deku nibbled on his lower lip. "Why haven't you invited me over yet? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable when—"

Katsuki threw a dishtowel at him. "Don't be fuckin' stupid. It's just not done yet. I've barely had any time to decorate it," he huffed. "It doesn't feel like my place yet, y'know? Not comfortable having anyone over yet."

Deku pouted, but Katsuki saw his jaw unclench. "Really?"

"Haven't even let the hag come over yet," he confirmed. Deku unwound even further. "Is that why you've been so pissy this week?"

"I haven't been pissy, you asshole, you've been an overprotective alpha jackass," he snapped. "I'm a pro-hero—I don't need you snapping at every shitty alpha who makes a lewd comment. It makes me look like I can't take care of myself. Do you think I can't take care of myself?" he demanded.

Katsuki wrinkled his nose at the sour scent that was starting to pollute the apartment. "Of course I fucking don't," he growled. "I think that just because you're a capable omega doesn't mean I should just stand by and let shit like that happen. I'm trying to be a good fucking ally."

"You should ask how to be a good ally then," Deku spat. "Because I haven't felt supported, I've felt coddled. Like a damsel in distress."

Katsuki swallowed, turning back to the stove. That was hard to hear. Deku was one of the strongest people he knew, regardless of his subgender. The last thing he wanted was to make Deku feel less than. He'd done that enough in the first half of their life.

"Sorry," he muttered, turning back to look Deku in the eye. "Really, Deku. I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me earlier? You just bitched at me or stormed off. How am I supposed to figure out what I'm doing wrong if you don't beat it into me like you usually do?"

"I thought you were mad at me? Maybe not mad, but uncomfortable. And I thought it...the whole overbearing dickhead alpha thing—might be a...punishment? For making you uncomfortable?"

He frowned deep, his gut twisting. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Of course you wouldn't, not on purpose," Deku huffed—offended, somehow, on both of their behalves. "You wouldn't be my best friend if you were that sort of person, Kacchan."

And just like that, the air felt clear. Katsuki's stomach unknotted and his shoulders unclenched. Deku trusted him. Sometimes it still surprised him, but he really did. And he assumed and expected the best from him. He was so fucking lucky to have him.

"Good," he said, moving to pull bowls out of Deku's tiny kitchen cupboards. "You're my partner, dipshit. If something's bothering you, fuckin' tell me so I can fix it. Or at least we can fuckin' work through it. Isn't that why you got us couple's therapy in third year?"

"It wasn't couple's therapy! It was relationship counseling!"

Katsuki looked over at him in disbelief. "That's the same thing!"

Katsuki growled in annoyance.

He'd told parents not to come—he wasn't done setting the place up yet. He'd barely had any time to set up his den, and the living room only had one couch.

"Why'd you get such a big fuckin' house, brat?" Mitsuki hollered as she kicked her shoes off and made herself at home. "Thought you wanted a smaller place."

"It's beautiful, Katsuki," his father said, toeing off his shoes more delicately. "But it is a bit bigger than we thought you wanted."

He shrugged, taking the boxes that his dad was holding out for him. "Deku helped me narrow down what I wanted. This house has everything on the list. It's a little big, but I can fuckin' handle it. What's this shit?" he asked, shaking the boxes.

"Your childhood shit," Mitsuki replied. "Might make the place homier since you live like a fuckin' robot."

"Fuck you too," he grumbled. "Come in, I was making lunch. You can eat whatever scraps are left."

"I gave birth to you, you ungrateful little troll!"

"That was your mistake," he scoffed, serving them full portions of the curry he'd made. "Happy, hag?"

"Ecstatic," she replied sarcastically. "But really, brat, this is like...twice as large as you said you wanted. Why?"

He shrugged, looking around. It didn't feel that big, but it also did. He was attempting to furnish the place but it felt like there was endless shit to buy for the place. But the thought of something smaller filled him with unease.

"You have a library?" Masaru asked sometime after lunch and the perfunctory tour he'd given them.

"What, don't think I can read, old man?" he barked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katsuki," Masaru chuckled. "It just seems like unnecessary space—probably one of the things you could have cut down on. I'm surprised, that's all."

He rolled his eyes. "It's for my merch collection," he huffed.

"Oh! If we'd have known, we would have brought some of your older merch," his mom said, disappointed. "Get some more clutter out of the house."

"Gee, thanks, Hag," he drawled sarcastically. "Can you go now?"

His den still wasn't ready, and even his parents' presence was grating on him. He especially didn't like them in the unfinished rooms, like the merch room and the living room.

"Have we seen everything?" his mother asked, shoving him aside. "No! So no, we can't go yet."

She walked into the last room, and Katsuki growled. Both his parents paused—both at the aggression and the room itself. "Katsuki?" his dad uttered, staring wide-eyed into the room. It was a kind of foyer to the master suite. The antiquated term was a fore-den—a private space that was appropriate for trusted pack members, that guarded the more private nest or den within.

"This...doesn't seem like your style, kiddo," Mitsuki said slowly.

"Why the fuck not? I told you I'm not done decorating yet," he snapped. "And I like my fuckin' privacy, this shit will help keep extras out of my fuckin' space."

He hissed when his mother took another step into the room before biting down on his lip hard. His mother was pack. He loved her. He didn't know why he was being so aggressive about this shit, but he didn't want this space tainted by other people. At least not yet.

Masaru seized Mitsuki's shoulder, pulling her back. "Sweetheart, let's not aggravate him," he said calmly. "He'll show us the whole thing when he's ready."

Mitsuki gave a jerky nod and took a few more steps back—and with each step, Katsuki felt the tension in his body unwind. They were his parents, why was he being so weird about them seeing his den?

"We're gonna get going. But when you're done, or if you need help, let us know," Masaru offered, kinda and warm.

He shifted in place. He needed to scent the room—to wipe out the lingering notes of cedar, sugar, and citrus that his parents had left behind. "Can you find the door on your own?" he asked. "I need—fuck, I don't wanna be rude—well, not actually rude—but I need to scent my den—"

"It's okay, Katsuki," Mitsuki interrupted, surprising them both. "When you have time, maybe talk to your doctor about compulsive den scenting, alright, honey?"

He squinted at her. "Fine," he agreed despite his suspicion. She wouldn't have suggested it unless she knew something was up.

"Come by for dinner soon, brat," she called over her shoulder, pulling Masaru from the room. His lip curled into a snarl when the scent didn't vanish around the corner with them and he got to work scenting the place as thoroughly as he could, swiping his wrists along the walls and the cushions on the couch and chairs.

He finally had a long weekend—a full four days where he could work on the house and get the last of his furniture from his flat.

He would have hired movers, but he'd spent a shit-ton of money outbidding the other potential buyers so—despite his trepidation—he asked Eijirou for help.

"Sure, dude!" Eijirou exclaimed over the phone. "What do you need me to do?"

"I got some painting and shit to do, so if you could get the rest of the furniture and boxes to the house sometime in the next few days, that would be fuckin' awesome," he replied, standing in the middle of his living room and looking around.

He shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't right yet. It had to be perfect.

"Yeah, whatever you need, man. Need the key to your place, though."

"Wanna swing by, or should I come give it to you?"

"I'll swing by," Eijirou replied. "Just text me the address."

"Thanks, Ei," Katsuki mumbled, still not good at being earnest out loud (unless it was with Deku, whose very presence demanded it), but genuinely grateful for his no-questions-asked willingness to help.

He'd already picked out the colors for his walls. The plan was to have cool, neutral greys matched with green accent walls—grenade green, if possible—in the rooms that didn't have any natural light. The interior rooms were darker by nature and the green would feel organic there.

In the rooms with larger windows that accepted more sunlight, he planned to use warmer toned sand-colored walls paired with sunset orange details. It was a bit on the nose, but the execution would be subtle and impactful.

He had taste and class, goddammit.

It was more colorful than his apartment had been, but he technically hadn't been allowed to paint his apartment. He probably would have added more color if he'd been allowed to, right? Right.

Deku texted him right as he was texting Eijirou.

From: Supreme Dork

hi kacchan! wanna grab dinner/have a movie night tonight? I still need to prove u wrong abt capt. america

To: Supreme Dork

sure, it'll be kinda late tho. wrking on the house. and you won't prove shit u little fuck

From: Supreme Dork

yay! see u whenever  get here ig! hehe cant wait for u to eat ur words❤️

Eijirou came and left and while he was gone, Katsuki got started on all the details he felt compelled to add. It was weird. He'd never been this obsessed with the shit that didn't directly affect his life. Painting the fucking walls green wouldn't affect how he slept or how his coffee tasted in the morning, but it felt fucking important.

When Eijirou finally showed up with his furniture, Katsuki wanted to fucking strangle him. Because he didn't come alone.

"Sorry, dude," the redhead said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I needed some help lifting stuff into the truck, and then I couldn't convince them to wait until you invited them—"

Katsuki glared at him. "Who."

"Uh...the squad," he replied uncomfortably, shifting under the heat of Katsuki's stare.

"No. Leave the truck and get—FUCK!"

Denki was shoving past him into the room, excitedly taking in whatever he could even as Katsuki grabbed him by the neck and tried to force him out the door, growling. "C'mon, Kacchan! Lemme seeeee!"

"Get out!"

"This place is amazing, Blasty!" Mina cooed, skirting the scuffling duo as she entered his home uninvited. "Aww, why's it all covered in plastic?" she pouted.

"I'm fuckin' painting the place, fuckhead!" he snarled, twisting to try to grab her before she could get too far. "Don't touch the goddamn walls, if I have to redo them I'll paint them with your blood instead!"

"Gross, dude," Hanta laughed, strolling in after them. He stopped cold. "That's the color you're painting your place? Bro, they're all cool tones, what's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"It's fucking green," Katsuki snapped. "What's wrong with green?"

"You're defined by warm tones, man!"

"I ain't defined by shit except being the fuckin' best," he growled, shoving Denki out the door just for the blonde omega to slip under his arm and dart into the living room. Mina had lifted up part of the plastic tarp and was cooing at his new couch.

"Aww, I've always wanted one of these!" she exclaimed, pushing the tarp back to curl up on the extra-deep-seated sofa and picking up one of the plush pillows, squeezing it greedily. "And these blankets are so cute! Ei, I told you one of these extra large-knit blankets would look cozy and not clunky—"

Katsuki growled furiously as Mina put her greedy little hands—and therefore, her cloying scent—all over his brand new shit. His lip curled up to expose his teeth in a vicious snarl, and Mina went still before very carefully setting the cushion down and sliding off the couch. "Don't. Touch. Anything."

"But Blasty—"

"I don't even have my fuckin' scent in here enough," he snapped, fangs still bared aggressively. "The fuck gives you the right to scent my den before I do?"

"But you have all this cute soft stuff! Why don't you want it to be touched?" she pouted, still standing a respectable distance away and palms forward in surrender.

"It's mine," he snarled.

"Why do you have so much soft shit?" Hanta asked curiously, stepping closer to examine his decor but being very careful not to touch. "God, why would you even need this many pillows for? Your living room is basically a blanket fort—"

"I want my fuckin' space to be comfortable—"

"Yo, guys! He has a whole-ass library up here!" Denki yelled from upstairs. "Why is it so empty, dude?"

Katsuki stiffened. Denki was snooping in spaces he hadn't even let his parents explore.

"GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING DEN OR I'LL KILL YOU!" Katsuki bellowed, stomping toward the stairs. Mina and Hanta scurried after him—both to restrain Katsuki from murdering their friend and to see more of the house.

Mostly the former, since Katsuki's scent had turned legitimately aggressive and angry. It had gone from toasted marshmallows and charred cedar to smoky, caustic,  and abrasive—like a wildfire burning a chemical plant.

They didn't even notice Eijirou—standing still and looking around the walls and furniture completely awestruck. Katsuki hadn't let him in the last time—he'd just shoved the key to his apartment through a gap in the door and then slammed it shut.

"You built him a whole-ass love nest before you even courted him, you goddamn simp," Eijirou whined, stopping everyone in their tracks as he cradled his head in his hands.

Mina turned around first, squinting at Eijirou. "Who?" she demanded.

"I'm with Pinky," Katuski agreed, turning around to glare at Eijirou, stance low and aggressive. "Who the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded.

Hanta was running a critical eye over the paint and furnishings just as Denki ran downstairs, frightened into compliance by Katsuki's murderous tone and scent. Then, Hanta seemed to get it.

"Wow," he breathed. "That's awesome."

"What do you mean, who?" Eijirou cried, flinging his arms out to gesture at the freshly painted walls in exasperation. "I obviously mean Mido! He's like...the only thing missing from the place!"

He felt Mina grab onto him, fingers digging into his bicep like claws. "You're fucking crazy, get the hell out of my house," he snarled, trying to shake her off.

"No," Eijirou huffed, standing his ground and baring his own teeth. "Listen. You made me suffer through that wack-ass house viewing where you and Deku pretended to be a couple and scented each other and made pet names for each other—then a week later you buy a house that's got everything you want, and all the little things Mido said that he liked. The library, dude?"

Katsuki had gone silent, and Mina's grip on his arm had tightened so he wouldn't run or attack. "Kats, you got a bunch of omega nesting items," she murmured, casting a glance at the sofa. "And you're painting the space in his colors—"

"I'm painting them in mine too," he snapped.

"But you're painting it the way he liked it," Eijirou said, gesturing at the darker accent wall. "The way it was in the third house we saw. One big colorful wall in every room—"

"They're called accent walls, dude," Hanta interrupted.

"Does this seem like the right time to educate me on interior design, Hanta?" Eijirou hissed, clearly peeved. "You keep telling me the space isn't right, that you don't want people in your space because your scent isn't strong enough—you've never had that problem as long as I've known you. You just kick people out and neutralize after a few hours and then re-scent. Why is this different?"

"Because it's mine!" Katsuki hollered.

"IS IT?" he bellowed back. "Katsuki, this space is at least half his! That's why it's half empty! That's why it's half green!" he flailed his arms in frustration. Katsuki didn't know what he was frustrated about—he was the one spewing nonsense. "Just court him and move him in already!"

"HE DOESN'T WANT THAT!"

"But you do?" Denki asked. Katsuki stopped cold, shock running through him like a fucking freight train.

He hesitated—then said: "No." He didn't sound very sure. He'd never thought about it! Deku wasn't...he wasn't...they...no! They couldn't! Right?

Mina's grip on his arm eased, and she turned him to look at her, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Think about it," she said calmly. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. "Doesn't have to be right now. We gotta unload your furniture anyway. But you should definitely think about it. And if Ei's right, you should do something about it."

Mina ushered him toward his den so he could process while they unloaded the rest of his shit. It was stupid.

Sure, Deku was objectively attractive—he was even a regular part of Katsuki's masturbation rotation. But that was because he had thick thighs that could crumble cinderblocks and an ass that wouldn't quit. And sure he'd imagined the pretty greenette's eyes blinking up at him through tears as his plush little lips were wrapped around his cock. He was human. But he truly tried to separate Deku the sexy omega from Deku his best friend.

He didn't need to think about it. Deku was his hero partner and his closest person. That was all.

But fuck, now that the idea was in his head, it sounded...perfect. He could see Deku in the space he was creating—it was a clearer picture than the actual fucking pictures he'd hung on the walls.

He could see him curled on the sofa—wrapped in thick blankets as he marathoned All Might movies. He could see his merch filling the library-turned-display room. He could see him in the home gym on early mornings before their nightmarishly long shifts. He could see him spending time in the fore-den with friends during his preheats—staying close enough to his nest to be comfortable but far enough that he wouldn't ruin it while he was socializing and collecting pack scents.

The longer he thought about it, the worse it got. He could see Deku brushing his teeth at the double-vanity sink in the master suite—eyes bleary and hair rumpled first thing in the morning.

He could see Deku traipsing into the kitchen in his boxers, demanding pancakes before falling back asleep at the counter.

He could see Deku waking up in his arms clear as fucking day, and it made him want to throw up. In...a good way. It made his stomach roll over, and his stupid-ass heart flutter, and his palms sweat. Like riding a roller coaster or some shit, but better because Deku would be beside him for it.

God, what the fuck? Had his friends fucking drugged him?

No, he knew they didn't. Like Deku had said—he was self-aware. At least, he tried to be. He was also fucking smart. Once the evidence had been presented, it became really fucking clear, really fucking fast. He just needed some denial time to ease into his realization.

But that self-awareness meant that denial didn't last long. Fuck.

He was ass-over-mouth in love with Deku.

Katsuki didn't do things by halves. As a RULE. So sure, now he knew that he was in love with Deku and accidentally started building a home for them. But he couldn't say anything to Deku until he'd perfected his plan.

The problem was: he didn't currently have a plan.

He had a house, and he had a Deku—he had no idea how he was gonna smoosh those two things together. Fuck.

He threw himself into setting the place up—adding display cases to the library, painting the rest of the house, and buying more omega-friendly crap. He even put up gross, sappy sentimental pictures of their friends and family in the places he knew Deku would like most—the library, the tiny-ass study he'd made out of one of the spare bedrooms, and the fore-den.

There was another problem, though.

"Hey," Deku said, shuffling up to his desk. They were at work now—both of them on desk duty for the day. He was supposed to be doing paperwork, but he was trying to decide if it would be tacky to display some of the more ostentatious All Might posters in the living room. "Hana ordered this for you," he muttered, tossing a box of unidentified food onto his desk before turning on his heel and leaving again.

Deku had been like this for a week now. He was upset about something, and that something was clearly Katsuki's fault somehow. He'd barely seen those beautiful green eyes in days, and it was getting to him. They were supposed to eat lunch together today—it was a permanent fixture in their schedules, just like Thursday nights. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Paperwork," he replied shortly, clearly not interested in talking to him.

Katsuki nearly whined in distress. Out loud. Like a lil' bitch. Love was wack as hell.

"Hey, wait," he said, skirting his desk to catch up with Deku. Enough was enough. "What's going on? What did I do?" he asked, grabbing Deku by the shoulders and spinning him around to face him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Deku replied, shrugging out of Katsuki's grasp and continuing to walk.

"We're supposed to have lunch together," he insisted, following after him.

"I have paperwork to finish," he replied shortly.

"Come do it in my office, then," he said, trying to get in front of the fleeing greenette. "I've barely fuckin' seen you all week."

Deku actually rolled his eyes, pirouetting around him like a tiny stacked ballerina. "We've had patrol together every day."

"Deku, fucking talk to me," he pleaded, following Deku into his office...right next door. "I can tell you're upset or pissed or something, but I don't know what I did. Can you please fucking tell me so I can fix it?"

Deku sat at his desk and squinted at Katsuki, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. "I don't think I mean as much to you as you do to me," he said—slowly as though he'd chosen his words carefully. And fuck, wasn't that a slap in the face?

"What the ever-loving fuck are you talking about, Deku," he demanded.

"A month ago or so, I said that you were my best friend, and you replied that I was your partner. I uh...I have a bad habit of misinterpreting our relationship, Kacchan," he shrugged.

"Either that or I'm an emotionally stunted jackass who's currently in therapy for the sole fucking purpose of being able to express my feelings for the people around me," he snapped. "Where the hell is this coming from? Do we need to go back to couples' therapy?"

Deku looked up at him. "Would you want to?"

Katsuki had legitimately no fucking clue what was going on. "If it was important to you then yeah, fucker! If we need a licensed interpreter to get us on the same page, it'll be totally fuckin' worth it."

Deku nibbled on his (adorable, pouty, full) lower lip. Then, all of a sudden, he dropped his face into his hands—elbows perched on the desk. "Ugh, I'm being so stupid," he groaned. Katsuki closed the door behind him and flicked the do-not-disturb light on.

"The whole point of couples' therapy was so that we'd talk to each other—"

"WOULD YOU—" Deku gritted his teeth, and spoke the rest of his sentence through them, almost hissing. "Stop calling it couple's therapy, you absolute ass?"

Katsuki cracked a grin, snickering at Deku's fond frustration. "Nope," he replied, teasing. "Now spill, nerd. C'mon, you know you want to."

Deku rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. "I uh...I overheard Denki and Hanta talking the other day."

Katsuki had never felt his asshole clench that fast in his entire goddamn life. What had those loudmouth motherfuckers said? "About what?" he asked, somehow managing to come off casual. Had they been talking about what a fucking simp Katsuki was for Deku? Did Deku know how he felt? Was he disgusted? Is that why he'd been avoiding him?

"About...fuck, this is stupid," he groaned. "They were talking about how much they liked your place," he admitted, wincing as though he thought Katsuki might mock him. "And, I don't know. I guess I was...jealous? Like...hurt that they saw it two weeks ago and you still won't even bring it up with me." Katsuki closed his eyes in frustration, swiping a hand through his spiky hair. Deku seemed to get anxious at his agitation. "It's just that your first house is a big deal, y'know? And I thought I'd be pretty high on the list of people who get to see it. I guess it's not that big a deal—"

"Stop," Katsuki demanded, holding a hand out. "You are on the short list of people I'd invite to see it. It's not done yet."

"Then why did—"

"They came over without permission!" he cried. Deku's eyes widened—just a fraction, but enough for Katsuki to know that Deku knew how irritated he was. "They fuckin' barged in and spread their shitty scents around before I'd had the opportunity to mark and scent it properly. I hadn't even finished painting yet, for fuck's sake." He leaned over Deku's desk and grasped his wrist, scenting him gently. He watched as Deku's shoulder's dropped from around his ears—in awe of the fact that the nerd felt so comfortable with him.

"How'd they know where to go then, Kacchan," he asked, sounding quiet and distressed despite the release of tension from his jaw and spine. He was scenting Katsuki back—they were clasping each other's wrists and drawing over exposed glands with practiced swipes of their thumbs.

Katsuki could drown in his scent and die happy. Imagine how it would feel in his house. In their den. Fuck.

"Ei was supposed to drop off the moving van and then leave," he replied. "Those fuckheads were helping him load the van, and they barged in." It was still pissing him off two weeks later. "I wanted it to be perfect before anyone saw it."

Deku still looked skeptical, and that was a huge fucking bummer. Like a 'Deku's pout is gonna rip a hole through my sternum' kind of bummer. He missed Deku's smile so fucking much. "It's been like two months since you bought it," he muttered. "If you don't want me there—"

"There's literally no one else I want there more, Deku," he interrupted. "Specifically because you're more considerate than the rest of the jackasses in our pack." Deku cracked a tiny smile at that, and it felt like a triumph. "Just trust me a little longer, alright? It's almost done."

Deku nodded slowly, withdrawing his hand. "Okay, Kacchan," he replied. Katsuki's heart sank. He still sounded doubtful and his eyes seemed guarded—maybe more than when this conversation had started. "Whenever you're ready."

Two weeks later, Katsuki had a plan. And he was shitting-bricks nervous about it. To the point where he could hardly look Deku in the eye without becoming a dumb stuttering mess. Luckily, he had supreme amounts of self-control, and could mostly mask his anxiety.

His scent almost gave him away a few times, so he had to opt for the extra-strength waterproof scent patches that felt like drying cement.

It would be a metric shit-ton easier to deal with his anxiety if he had his dumbass friends to scream at, but he was still pissed at them so he was currently settling for beating the absolute shit out of them during their bi-weekly sparring sessions.

"Hey," Katsuki said, stepping into Deku's office. Deku looked up at him, less enthusiastic than normal—more guarded. "You have a sec?"

"Sure," Deku responded.

"So, my place is almost officially done," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Like, I'm finally almost ready for you to see it. If you still want to," he hedged, shifting uncomfortably at the inscrutable look in Deku's eyes.

"You don't have to," Deku said, dropping his eyes back to his paperwork and waving him off.

"I want you to," Katsuki admitted. Deku's eyes flicked back to him, and it was a relief. Having Deku's eyes on him was soothing, even in tense situations. "I just have one more thing that needs to get delivered and it'll be done. It'll be there on the 14th."

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. "Like in four days? Valentine's Day?"

Katsuki gave a hesitant nod. "If you have plans it's no big deal, you can come see it another time."

It was a big deal. A very big deal. If Deku had Valentine's plans, he'd probably cry himself to sleep for a year.

The omega hesitated and Katsuki had to beat back a possessive rumble when his tiny little omega fangs dug into his plump bottom lip. Fuck he was down bad. How had he not noticed?

"Okay," he agreed finally.

"You wanna hang out, too? Dinner and a movie or something?" Katsuki asked, pushing his luck. He hadn't gotten to hang out with Deku in weeks because the omega was upset with him. He'd actually canceled their Thursday movie night with a legitimate excuse that Katsuki couldn't call him out on.

Maybe he was giving off a desperate vibe because Deku seemed to soften around the edges. "Of course we can hang out. And I'm excited to see your place," he said, smiling. There was an edge to it, though.

He didn't know how to deal with the current vibe between them. Deku had accepted that Katsuki simply hadn't been ready to show off his new place but at the same time, he seemed to have decided that Katsuki kept him around out of necessity rather than desire.

It made him...anxious about his plans.

"It'll be nice to cook your katsudon in a clean and organized kitchen built for human-sized people," the alpha teased. Deku pouted, grabbing a pen out of his penholder and chucking it at him.

"Leave my kitchen alone!"

"Fuck no," he grinned. "I've been freed from the terror of electric burners, and I'll be holding my kitchen superiority over you as long as I fuckin' can," he promised.

"I hate you," he grumbled, but the corners of his lips were just barely tilted up in a smile and Katsuki relished it.

"Bullshit, nerd," he chuckled. "You love me—" he cut off abruptly, eyes widening.

Deku smirked at him, and Katsuki's skin crawled. He knew what was coming, and he also knew that it would make him uncomfortable as fuck. "I do love you, Kacchan," he simpered, grinning wide when Katsuki shifted. "You're the best. My favorite." Despite the mocking tone, Katsuki knew he was serious. Hence, his discomfort.

One of the things he was supposed to do was accept Deku's feelings and his never-ending litany of compliments at face value. To trust that his partner was sincere. Deku took advantage of it way too often. Compliments made Katsuki itchy, especially when they came out of nowhere. "You're the worst."

"Hmmm, but you love me too," Deku teased. His cheeky grin fell when Katsuki's face went soft and serious.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I do."

Deku's jaw dropped, eyes filling with tears. Katsuki's heart fluttered. Adorable little crybaby. "Kacchan! Affection? For free?"

Katsuki smirked, turning to walk out of the room. If that was how Deku reacted to the affection taste test, imagine how he'd react to the full-adoration meal.

"You can't make me emotional and just leave, Kacchan!" Deku hollered after him.

"Watch me, nerd!"

He was gonna throw up. Or shake out of his skin. Or blow himself up. What the fuck was he doing? He was basically kicking courting out the door and asking Deku to be his mate point-blank. What kind of idiot did that?

This kind of idiot apparently.

He paced the floor as he waited. Deku was already five minutes late. That alone wasn't cause for concern—Deku was almost always late. But today was different, because Katsuki was anxious, and every minute felt like a fucking hour.

He jumped about a foot in the air when the doorbell rang. He wiped his palms inside the pockets of his sweats, wondering if he should have worn something other than sweats when courting someone. Even though all they had planned was dinner and a movie, and that was sweatpants territory.

He bit back a groan when he opened the door. Deku usually dressed in tacky t-shirts and athletic shorts or sweatpants—what the Hag liked to call 'Frat Boy Hangover Chic.' But on occasion, he would opt for something sexier and more...omegan. Not to stereotype too hard, but stuff more soft and shapely than Deku's typical loungewear.

Athleisure shit. Leggings and soft, oversized sweaters that made the stacked greenette look dainty. Like right now. He recognized that fucking sweater. It was from one of his dad's omega menswear lines—a soft green scoop neck thing with a twisted open back.

He felt like his heart was hammering in his throat. "Hey," he grunted, standing aside so Deku could come in. As the omega walked past him, he was hit by a wave of his scent—warm and sweet. He'd forgone his scent patches again because apparently, he was on a mission to drive Katsuki fucking crazy.

"It's beautiful, Kacchan," he exclaimed, eyes wide and sparkling. "It's bigger than I thought it would be, but it's amazing! There's so much yard space! Are you gonna do anything with the garden?"

"Slow down, nerd," he chuckled. His stomach twisted. He'd realized that he'd loved the yard space because when Deku bought Auntie Inko her new house, he'd spent hours on end helping her with her new garden, and found that he loved gardening. He couldn't help but imagine Deku planting flowers with his mom in his tacky ass overalls—freckles darkening in the summer sun.

"Here," Deku said, holding out a bag. "Housewarming stuff," he explained as Katsuki took it from him.

"Thanks," he said, peeking inside. A bottle of champagne, a couple of scented candles, and—"Oh, fuck yeah," Katsuki grinned. "Your ginger spice cake?"

"I know it's your favorite," Deku replied, smiling wide. Katsuki's stomach flipped at the spark of fondness he saw. He hoped he wasn't imagining it. Wishful thinking was the worst, but all of his friends apparently thought that he should court Deku—they wouldn't say that unless they thought Deku loved him too, right?

"You're the fuckin' best," he replied, throwing an arm around Deku's shoulders. He wound his arms around Katsuki's waist without question. "Thanks, Deku. Want a tour?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, latching onto Katsuki's wrist and pulling him forward. "Show me, show me—"

"Chill!" Katsuki laughed. He took a detour through the living room to drop the housewarming gifts on the dining table. Deku was still clinging to his wrist, and it made Katsuki want to preen. He couldn't stop himself from purring—a low, gentle rumble. "Okay, so here's my obviously superior kitchen—oof," he grunted when Deku's elbow landed in his stomach.

"Mean, Kacchan," he scolded, before actually looking into the kitchen. "It's so big!"

"Look at all the counter space," Katsuki agreed. "I'm still fuckin' amazed. I made dinner the other day and barely used a quarter of the space in here."

"I'm very happy for you and your kitchen," Deku teased, clearly goading him. "When's your official anniversary? I'll buy you two a gift every year."

Katsuki threw his arm around Deku's neck, grabbing him in a headlock and mussing his emerald curls. "Little shit," he growled. "That's it, you're uninvited—"

"Noooooo, Kacchan show meeeee!" he whined, simultaneously trying to pull Katsuki's hand away from his hair and twist out of his headlock. Suddenly, he went still. "Who...is that Mina's scent?" he asked.

Katsuki scowled. "Yeah. Denki's too. I told you they were here," he grumbled. "She scented one of my blankets and the scent won't fucking come out." To his surprise, Deku scowled too.

"Before your scent really set, too," he muttered,  giving the air a subtle sniff.

"Might just fuckin' toss the blanket," he muttered. "I fuckin' liked it, though."

"No need," Deku replied, sounding a little vicious. "I'll get it out for you," he promised. "Show me the rest of the house first."

So he did. He showed him the living room, then the gym, then the two guest bedrooms. The study that he'd just finished setting up two days ago. "Did you do the paint yourself?" Deku asked, smiling at the emerald accent wall behind the standing desk.

"Yeah," he admitted. "The walls were all white. Felt like a fuckin' hospital in here."

"Reminds me of the third house we saw," he smiled. Katsuki smiled back, but it came off as more of a grimace. Of course that was what it looked like. That's literally what he'd modeled it after.

The tour continued to the attached garage where he'd set up a small space to work on minor gear repairs. Then, to the terrace in the back yard, which had a hot tub. "That'll be nice for muscle pain," Deku approved.

"Yeah, I thought so too," Katsuki agreed. "Yard needs work, but there's time for that later."

He led Deku upstairs then—leading him into the display room. His beautiful eyes widened—eyes darting to Katsuki's modest collection, and all the remaining space. "You...you have a library?"

"I'm not exactly using it as a library, but yeah," Katsuki said, hoping he didn't sound as anxious as he felt. He wondered if Deku had noticed that he'd only moved in the merch that wasn't duplicated in Deku's collection. From the way those beautiful shrewd eyes were examining the shelves, he assumed that detail hadn't slipped his notice.

"This is amazing," he breathed, stepping further into the room. He made his way past the small collections of figurines to the card display. He had binders full of hero trading cards, but the really special ones were framed in glass panels that he'd installed himself. The room didn't have any natural light that could damage them—just filtered LED lamps. "What happened to your gold edition All Might?" he asked.

The one that they'd found together as children. "Haven't brought it from home yet," he explained. "Wanted to make sure the protective seals on those cases worked properly, first."

Deku nodded, but it was slow. Skeptical. "That...makes sense," he murmured.

"C'mon," Katsuki prompted, breaking Izuku's concentration. "Only two more rooms, then I need to get started on dinner. We can crack the champagne, too."

"Sure," Deku agreed absently, following after him. He seemed to come back to himself when he entered the fore-den. "Oh, I love this," he purred. Literally purred. Katsuki's heart stopped, listening to his—no, the—omega delight in his surroundings.

He'd worked hard on the master suite. The fore-den, master bedroom, and master bath were fucking masterpieces, if he did say so himself. The fore-den was decorated sentimentally—photos of their shitty friends all over the walls, as well as landscape shots of childhood landmarks. There was an aerial view of their neighborhood and a photo from the roof of Deku's old apartment complex.

The sofa was one of those super-deep seated sectionals—made for curling up and being cozy. Not exactly what Katsuki was known for. Deku's eyes kept flicking over to it—filled with both suspicion and longing. "You can sit on it if you want to, dork," Katsuki snickered.

"I don't wanna get my scent everywhere if you're still marking—"

"I said it's fine," Katsuki interrupted. Izuku went to argue—probably to point out that he was still upset about Mina—but Katsuki was faster. "It's fine if it's you," he amended.

Deku's mouth snapped shut and his eyes went wide and a little watery. "Oh," he said a moment later. They stared at each other a beat longer. Katsuki was definitely gonna throw up from anxiety. He wandered over to the couch under Katsuki's watchful eye. And here's the thing—Katsuki knew he would like the couch. He'd been listening to the nerd bitch about his cheap-ass couch for years. But he couldn't have possibly expected Deku's reaction to it.

But Deku sat down, his eyes widened, and the quiet purr he'd started when he walked into the room turned into a fucking motorcycle. It was a firm couch—supportive, but soft. Katsuki had fallen asleep on it more than once. Deku sank into it like he belonged there, grabbing one of the cushions and trilling when it collapsed under his grip just the way he liked it.

Both Katsuki and the dumbass alpha rattling around in his skull were going fucking nuts. He wanted to pin Deku to the couch and scent him and kiss him and fall asleep in his freakishly strong arms.

"Ready to see the last two rooms, nerd?" he asked quietly, pulling the delighted omega out of his comfortable little trance. Deku blinked up at him, eyes dilated.

"Right," he said slowly, setting the cushion down reluctantly. Katsuki snorted.

"Believe it or not, there are even more pillows in the bedroom," he teased. Deku pouted, picking the pillow up again just to chuck it at Katsuki's face with deadly accuracy.

"Don't be an ass when I'm enjoying your decorating choices," he huffed, standing. His purr had quieted but it was still there. Katsuki could feel it—shaking the hairs on his arms so that they stood up straight.

How had he not realized how fucking electrifying Deku was? Thank god his head was out of his ass now.

Deku barely spared a glance to the master bathroom, which was just off the little hallway to the main master bedroom. Katsuki, gripped by nerves, heard himself babbling about the extra-large jacuzzi-style tub and the fucking rain shower, but the nerd barely turned his head—venturing into Katsuki's den for the first time.

"It's perfect," he cooed, venturing closer. Katsuki watched as his nostrils flare as he scented the air. "Do you have scent diffusers in here?" he asked, glancing around.

Katsuki actively restrained himself from puffing up with pride. Some alphas would put their scent into oil diffusers to strengthen their claim on their territory, usually if they didn't feel potent enough. "Nah, I got a little territorial after Sparky invaded," he explained.

Deku's expression soured. "I still can't believe he did that," he scowled. Katsuki caught the edge of Deku's scent and turned toward it, ready to usher him out if it was angry. He didn't need that in his bedroom.

Instead, he got a face full of oppressive, possessive omega—soft sweetness turning thick and the warm clove-like undertone turning sharp—so heavy and spicy that he could nearly taste it.

Holy fuck. He didn't think Deku even realized what he smelled like. The last time he'd smelled anything like it was when the IcyHot Idiot had tried to retrieve his sweater while Deku was still using it for his nest. So basically, his wack-ass friends were right. Deku, at least subconsciously, wanted him.

He could deal with that later. After dinner.

"You—" he cut off. He was gonna ask 'you hungry?' but he was distracted by Deku perching at the edge of his bed and sinking his fingers into the bedspread as though he were testing the plush of the bedding and the strength of the mattress in one go.

"You got a new mattress," he commented smugly. He'd been pestering Katsuki to get a better mattress ever since he'd started complaining about his back. Until the move, he'd still had the shitty mattress he'd gotten for his first apartment. "How does your back feel?"

Katsuki gaped at him for half a second longer before responding as sarcastically as he could. Which was not very sarcastic, considering how dry his mouth had gone at Deku being on his fucking bed. "So much better," he said, attempting to drawl. It came out as more of a wheeze instead.

Deku squinted at him, confused by his reaction, then shot off the bed like he'd been burned. "I'm so sorry," he uttered. "You—"

"It's fine," Katsuki insisted. "You're like...the only fuckin' person I'm fine with having anywhere near my den, it's fine."

He relished the dull flush that crept up Deku's neck to ears and across the bridge of his nose. "I'm honored," he replied, giving Katsuki that tiny, heart-stopping smile. "It's all amazing, Kacchan. I'd say I can't believe you did this all on your own but you know, it's you. You're amazing, too," he explained, looking around appreciatively.

If he didn't get to at least make out with Deku like a horny teenager at the end of the night, he honestly might cry.

"Shut up, dork," he uttered, blushing. Deku gave him a knowing smile and bumped his shoulder. Right. Accepting compliments at face value. "Thanks, dork," he corrected himself.

"You're welcome, Kacchan," Deku grinned. The little shit.

"If you're done being embarrassing, are you ready for dinner?" he asked throwing an arm around the omega's shoulder and nearly dying when he simply burrowed into his side. "I'm fuckin' starved."

"Sure! We could have done the tour later, you know," he scolded, nudging Katsuki toward the door.

While Katsuki finished cooking, Deku lounged and chatted his ear off about anything that entered his adorable little nerd brain. It was relaxing—the steady sound of Deku's entire brain spilling out from his mouth. It also meant that his plan would probably work. He was rambling about every feature of the house that he'd seen, which meant that eventually, he'd start spewing about details that weren't obvious.

After dinner, Katsuki poured them both a glass of champagne and migrated them to the sofas. Deku had whined at him until he threw on a hero biopic as background noise, and they'd toasted to his new place. He knew he'd have to say something eventually, and he wasn't a fuckin' coward. He was just waiting for the right opening.

"It's amazing, Kacchan. I can't believe you thought one thing was keeping it from being perfect," Deku chuckled, reclining back on his sofa like he belonged there. The lights were dimmed, and it made Deku look even softer—practically glowing in the low light of the incandescent side-table lamps that the hag had forced on him.

The little nerd was purring, too. Still. A low, steady thrum beneath their conversation that was put there by good food, good conversation, and comfort. Katsuki felt fuckin' unbeatable—he'd made his (soon to be) omega feel at ease. No, at home. He smelled and looked content—completely at ease in Katsuki's space.

"You know me," he huffed, taking another sip of his champagne. "Perfectionist, or whatever."

"I believe the correct term is anal-retentive," Deku teased, grinning mischievously. Katsuki kicked the closest spot he could reach, which happened to be his legging-clad thigh. He laughed and shifted around to kick back. "Hey, what was that one thing anyway?" he asked.

"Huh?" he asked, too focused on dodging Deku's foot to notice that he'd been given his opening.

"The one thing you needed to make the place perfect? What was it?" he asked, still kicking at Katsuki's leg childishly. Unfortunately for Katsuki, that meant Deku noticed as soon as he went still. "Kacchan?" he asked. He tilted his head like an adorable fucking puppy and Katsuki's stomach roiled anxiously as his viridian stare focused on him.

"You."

Deku blinked at him, then frowned. "Huh?"

"It's a little flashy for a courting gift," he said slowly, watching Deku as he began to comprehend what was happening. "But anything less wouldn't be good enough for you."

It was like pulling the pin on a grenade.

For a long moment, it was quiet—the only sound came from the TV. The gears were turning in Deku's head, and Katsuki had frozen in place to watch it happen. Then, to Katsuki's immediate horror, Deku burst into tears.

His stomach sank, and for a moment he was absolutely certain that he'd fucked up. That he'd read everything wrong, that his friends were wrong, that he'd ruined them.

But then the actual explosion happened, and Deku was knocking his champagne glass out of his hand. Katsuki barely had enough time to hear it hit the wall across the room (the nerd hit it hard) before his omega was climbing into his lap and threading his scarred hands through his hair. He was purring so loudly that Katsuki couldn't hear himself think, and flooding the entire fucking room with his scent, turned sweet and sharp with happiness, and...kissing him.

Katsuki was surrounded; breathing Deku in and tasting him and feeling him. He clutched at his little nerd's waist, pulling him in closer until he widened his legs and straddled Katsuki's lap.

It felt like they were fusing together—like now that they were here, they couldn't stop. They were pulled to each other magnetically, and whenever one pulled away to catch a breath the other would chase to devour. He couldn't stop.

"Kacchan," Deku breathed against his lips, and Katsuki growled in reply. He whimpered, breath hitching as he asked: "Me? You want me?" As though it were somehow unbelievable.

For his part, Katsuki couldn't imagine wanting anyone else. He'd never considered anyone else and as soon as he'd realized how he felt about Deku, that had been the end of it. As far as he was concerned, there was no one else on the planet. Just the pretty crybaby in his lap who was kissing his face aggressively and scenting him all over—running his hands through his hair and down his neck to his shoulders, then making sure his wrists covered the same path.

"Of course I fucking do," he snarled, clutching at him tighter—relishing the heated moan Deku let out at being manhandled. Katsuki felt his cock harden, and knew Deku felt it too by the way he went rigid in his grasp before—fuck—before melting into him and rolling their hips together. "Only you," he groaned as the greenette ground against him. 

He felt like he'd been set on fire—burning so hot for the omega in his lap that the whole house might turn to ash. But then, everything about his relationship with Deku was incendiary. Why the fuck would this be any different?

He slid his hand up the open back of Deku's sexy little sweater and pushed him forward, sealing their lips back together insistently. He whined into Katsuki's mouth, rutting against him harder.  Deku's tiny omega fangs were catching on Katsuki's lower lip, and it made Katsuki's breath catch and his cock stiffen. Deku's cock was smaller than his but he felt it against his stomach, demanding his attention. Katsuki's blood was burning in his veins.

How the fuck had he lived without this?

He pulled back and Deku whined again, distressed and trying to pull him back in. Before Katsuki could say what he needed to say, he sealed his lips to Katsuki's neck and left hot, open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach. Katsuki groaned, jerking when his hot little tongue slid over his mating gland.

"Need you to actually accept my courting gift, nerd," he uttered, bucking his hips when Deku scraped his teeth across the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He twisted his fingers into Deku's hair and pulled him back to look him in the eye, except Deku's eyes had sealed shut and his pretty, pouty lips had opened in a wanton moan. "Tell me, baby," he pleaded. He needed to hear it.

Deku's eyes opened, and they were black with lust. "Claim me," he panted, grinding against Katsuki even harder and leaning forward despite the grip in his hair.

"That's—hnnn—that's skipping a few steps, Deku," he replied. Deku had muscled his way back into the crook of Katsuki's neck, licking at the alpha's scent gland greedily.

"It's us," he replied, breathy in his ear like a fucking wet dream. Katsuki's hands slipped lower, gripped him a little tighter. "What's the point of courting when—ahh—when we already know everything about each other, who cares—"

"Deku—oh shit," he uttered, jaw going slack and mouth filling with saliva as the unmistakable smell of Deku's slick filled the air. "Fuck, you smell so good," he gasped, whining when Deku ground down on his clothed erection. "You really want me to claim you? You wanna be mine?"

"I've—ahh," he broke off when Katsuki took two handfuls of that fat ass and squeezed. "I've loved you for years and you finally want me back—" Katsuki whined. Deku loved him. Holy shit. "Claim me, Kacchan!"

"Okay," he croaked, kissing him again. "Okay, baby, I'll claim you," he agreed. They'd been through so much together, what was there to worry about? Clearly, they were compatible. He wanted to fuse their fucking molecules together. They could figure out the rest later. They always did.

Katsuki pulled him back, kissing him hard as he wound his arms under Deku's thighs and lifted him as he stood. If Deku wanted to be claimed, then Katsuki would claim him. But not in the fucking living room.

In their den.

Deku wrapped his thick thighs around Katsuki's hips without question, purring louder when Katsuki's hands slipped up under his sweater to touch him everywhere he could reach while carrying him toward the stairs.

The progress was slow. Every ten feet or so Katsuki had to push Deku against a wall and grind into him, just to listen to the desperate little noises his omega made. It made him rumble possessively, biting at his lips until his pretty pout was red and swollen.

The closer they got to the bedroom, the thicker Katsuki's scent got and the more Deku seemed to sink into his instincts—writhing in Katstuki's arms, almost frantic. "Patience, omega," he growled, cock twitching at Deku's needy keen. "Don't worry, baby, we're almost there—"

"Hurry up!" the omega whined, digging his fingers into Katsuki's shoulders for leverage as he arched against him.

The alpha rutted against him and dropped his head against Deku's shoulder—pressing him into the wall as Deku's writhing pushed his hips against Katsuki's groin. His mind was foggy and his cock was fucking aching—clouded by his need to tear Deku apart and fuck him stupid.

His hands went to Deku's waist, gripping at the soft fabric of his sweater and dragging it up, crooning when his little omega pushed him back just enough to help him rip the offending piece of clothing off and fling it somewhere in the hallway.

"So fuckin' hot, nerd," he rasped, leaning down to bite at one of Deku's dusky nipples and shuddering when he cried out. "Kay, hold on, gotta—fuck, gotta get to the bed—"

They definitely knocked some picture frames off the wall in the fore-den, Deku's hands tugging at his hair and Katsuki biting at his lips as they stumbled to their destination.

Then, finally, Katsuki was pressing Deku back into the bed—their bed—crawling on top of him and kissing him hungrily, licking the moans out of his mouth as Deku wrapped his legs back around Katsuki's waist and ground against him.

He growled when Deku trapped his tongue between his teeth and sucked on it—control slipping as the noises and the heat from Deku's roaming hands and the glide of their tongues brought his instincts roaring to the surface.

He twisted his fingers in Deku's curls and yanked, ripping a raspy cry out of him as he bared his throat. Katsuki sank his teeth into the skin right above his mating gland and that cry turned desperate—the thighs around his waist tightening and his little omega cock grinding into Katsuki's abs. He reached down to tug at Deku's leggings, only managing to get them an inch down before he felt it through the fabric.

Deku was fucking soaked with slick. Sometime since the last time he'd had his hands on Deku's ass, his slick had seeped through the flimsy fabric of his leggings. His jaw clenched, digging his teeth into Deku's neck even harder. "Kacchan!" he yowled, panting as he squirmed in Katsuki's grip. "Alpha, please!"

He pushed Deku's leggings down over the curve of his ass. He snarled in frustration releasing Deku's neck and pushing back. He took a moment to examine his handiwork—Deku panting beneath him; pupils blown, hair mussed, and dick hard and leaking pre all over his stomach.

Every inch of him felt hot and liquid—cock twitching as he brought his hand up and popped two of his fingers in his mouth, moaning at the taste of Deku's slick. He needed more. "'Course you taste like fuckin' candy, nerd," he said, voice rough with need. He pried Deku's legs from his waist and flipped him over, yanking his goddamn leggings the rest of the way down before pushing his chest down and propping him up on his knees.

"Coulda just asked me to present, Kacchan," he said, cheeky despite how breathless he was. Katsuki ignored him, too in awe of the sight before him. Deku, completely bare and ready for him. He smoothed his hands over his cheeks before gripping and spreading them, cock jerking when his asshole came into view—twitching and covered in his slick.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over Deku's opening, gathering slick on his fingers as saliva pooled under his tongue. Before he could lean down to taste, Deku whimpered and pushed his hips back as though he were trying to fuck himself back on Katsuki's hand.

He was panting and whining and begging, but all Katsuki could do was watch in fascination as more slick escaped from Deku's pretty pink hole, sliding down to his balls before dripping onto his sheets. Their sheets. Their nest in their den.

He put a steadying hand on Deku's lower back before leaning forward and running his tongue over his hot, puckered opening. Deku yelped, bucking back into him as Katsuki purred at his taste, gripping him tighter. It mixed with the taste of his own claiming venom—acidic sour mixing with Deku's sweetness. "Kachaaaan," he moaned as Katsuki lapped at his opening with broad strokes. "Kacchan, oh my god—ahh!"

Katsuki's cock throbbed, neglected and dripping as he devoured his omega's ass like it was his last meal. Deku wailed when Katsuki pushed his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and gripped his leaking cock with his free hand, pushing back into Katsuki's face before thrusting forward into his fist as though he couldn't decide which felt better.

"Kacchan," he gasped suddenly, body going tense. "I'm gonna cum, Alpha, I'm gonna cum, please—fuck—"

Katsuki stroked him faster, pushed his tongue deeper; rumbling with pride when his omega came all over his hand—tight passage locking down on his tongue as his body shook in Katsuki's grasp and he gasped Katsuki's name like a prayer.

"Good omega," he crooned. "You good, Deku?" He flipped him back over, groaning at the fucked-out look on his pretty nerd's face—mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild. Deku chirped at him—fucking chirped—winding his legs back around Katsuki's waist and grabbing his shirt to pull him forward and kiss him again. This time, it was wet and sloppy and Deku moaned when he tasted himself on Katsuki's tongue.

He jerked when Deku's hand slipped under his waistband, groaning into the kiss when he wrapped it around his leaking cock. "Want you to fuck me, alpha," he pleaded, trying to push Katsuki's sweats down over his hips with one hand while he stroked Katsuki with the other. "Fuck me and knot me, need you," he gasped as Katsuki abandoned his lips to lick and bite down his neck.

"I've got you," Katsuki promised, shifting back to push his sweats down and kicking them off his ankles while Deku yanked at his shirt,  impatiently ripping it over his head. He grit his teeth as Deku stroked him, wrapping his legs back around Katsuki's waist as soon as his pants were off. "Let go," he huffed, prying those thick thighs back apart, feeling like a monster when Deku whined plaintively and teared up. "You want me to knot you, right baby? It'll be easier on both of us if you turn over," he soothed, cupping Deku's cheek and running his thumb along his swollen bottom lip. "You can do that for me, can't you?"

Deku nodded, still teary but dazed. "I can do that," he whispered.

"Good," Katsuki praised, gently grasping Deku's wrist to pull his hand away from his dick. "Present for me, Deku," he instructed, watching as Deku whined and panted—turning over flat before shuffling up on his knees again. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside you," he groaned, slipping his index finger into his welcoming heat. "You're so tight, baby," he growled as Deku shuddered. He pushed back on Katsuki's finger and he watched with rapt attention as his little hole swallowed him down to the knuckle, slick oozing out around it. "Sucking my finger in like it's nothing," he said, pressing a second against his opening. "Want another?"

"Please," Deku begged for him. "Want all of you, Kacchan, just fuck me!" It sounded so fucking needy, like he was crying—voice catching on the last word. Katsuki growled, pushing down between Deku's shoulder blades when the omega tried to prop up on his elbows for more leverage. "Alpha, please!"

"Don't wanna hurt you," he snarled. "Be patient, you little shit."

He slipped the second finger in, working his omega open as fast as he could without hurting him. He was barely holding himself back, especially with how Deku was thrashing in his hold and trying to fuck himself back on his fingers—grinding Katsuki's cock against the back of his thigh.

He was so hot and wet and tight—with every thrust of his fingers he clenched around them, trying to keep them inside. He needed to feel that on his cock. His entire body felt heavy with need—cock aching to get inside him. He pressed a third finger inside, and it took more effort this time. Deku's back arched beautifully, his choked sob turning into a needy wail when Katsuki crooked his fingers to rub into his prostate.

"So good," he panted, brow furrowed with his cheek pressed into the mattress, mouth agape and fucking drooling for him. "Feels so good, Kacchan, I need—"

"What do you need, Deku," he urged, eyes flitting between his face and his hole sucking in his fingers. "Tell me, omega, tell me what you need." Every noise Deku made was like gasoline on a fire, his fingers thrusting harder and faster with each sobbing moan. His palm was covered in slick—and every time Deku tried to reply, he'd shove his fingers back in and give himself a fresh coat.

"Need—ahhn—need more, alpha," he mewled, frustrated and frantic. "Need you to knot me, why aren't you knotting me—ah!"

He'd ask who taught Deku nerd to talk like that, but he'd had multiple heat-share partners in the past and frankly, Katsuki didn't want to know. Katsuki slapped his ass punitively, delighted when Deku's hips jerked back, fucking his fingers deeper as his opening tightened around them. "I told you I would, nerd," he scolded, even as Deku rolled is pretty hips back. "Should have known you'd be loud," he purred.

"You're f-fingering me in our—hah—our nest! Of course I'm loud you i-insensitive jerk," he sobbed.

And holy fuck did that do it for him. Their nest. In their den. In their house. He eased his fingers from Deku's stretched hole and climbed on top of him, cock nestling in the cleft of his ass. "Who do you belong to?" he demanded, rubbing the head of his cock against Deku's twitching entrance. It was taking all his self-control not to push in at once. As he ground between Deku's cheeks, his cock got coated in slick and he could feel the inviting heat along his shaft. He needed to be inside him more than he needed to breathe. "Tell me, omega."

"Yours," he gasped. "Yours, yours yours, yours, Kacchan, put it in!"

Deku was his and really, who was he to deny his omega? The head of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle and sank into the hottest, tightest ass he'd ever been in. The thought of his entire cock buried in that heat made his head spin. He gripped Deku's hips—holding the slutty nerd in place as he writhed and keened in pleasure, trying to push him deeper. "Fuck, you feel so good," he gasped, feeding another inch into his spasming hole.

"Kacchan!" Deku wailed, squirming in Katsuki's grip, trying to get him to go faster, deeper, anything—and he was so fucking tempted to give in. But he wanted to fucking savor this. He wanted to remember this; the first time he buried himself inside him and broke him down into a desperate omegan mess. "Too slow, alpha, pleeease," he sobbed.

Katsuki stoked along his spine to soothe him, but didn't speed his pace. Inch by painstaking inch, he slid into him—never tearing his eyes away from where his cock was splitting him open. "So tight, Deku," he groaned. Deku just moaned his name in reply, tilting his hips so that Katsuki slid in another inch without warning and wringing pleasured cries from both of them.

By the time his hips were flush against Deku's ass, he was panting like he'd ran a marathon and Deku had abandoned words all together—chirping and whining wretchedly as Katsuki leaned over his back, screwing his eyes shut to keep himself from cumming immediately. Deku's tight ass hugged him perfectly—velvet walls clenching around him like a fucking dream.

He withdrew and pushed back in again—slow but firm. They both moaned—Deku high and urgent and Katsuki low and harsh. He set a slow pace, reveling in the tight pull of his omega's ass—slick and hot and pulling him in with each thrust. Deku was beside himself, straining to push himself back—anything to pick up the pace.

He cracked when Deku looked at him over his shoulder, face wet with tears and mouth agape, and sobbing his name. He pushed his hand into Deku's hair, pushing his head back down and slamming into him. He sped his thrusts—pace going sloppy and uneven—fucking into him and reveling in the sound of slapping skin and his omega's pleasured sobs.

He leaned forward and planted his hands on either side of Deku's head—hands burning a little too hot and smoke curling off the sheets as he adjusted the angle of his thrusts. Deku screeched, the fat head of Katsuki's cock knocking into his prostate with every snap of his hips. His entire body went rigid and his hot channel clamped down on Katsuki's length as the omega came for a second time—his cock spurting all over the bedspread and slick running down the back of his thighs.

Katsuki was close—heat pooling in his belly as Deku's ass milked his cock, knot beginning to swell. His thrusts grew erratic and frenzied as it caught against Deku's rim, and the nerd went just as wild. He writhed and arched his back but it wasn't enough. Katsuki fell forward, his front flush with Deku's back, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders for leverage as he fucked into his omega like the world was fucking ending.

He could feel his omega purring as he plunged in and out of him, moaning as Katsuki bit at his shoulders and growled in his ears—keening every time his knot slipped past his spasming rim but didn't catch. "Kacchan, please," he sobbed. "Kacchan, knot me, I need you to knot me, alpha," he babbled—spouting an endless stream of begging that made Katsuki's blood feel like lava.

His knot caught, but he didn't stop thrusting—pushing into him as far as he could as his orgasm crested, grinding into Deku's prostate with vicious purpose until the omega came again—squeezing his perfect ass around Katsuki perfectly as he ground into Deku as deep as he could go, filling his omega with cum for the first time. His mouth found Deku's mating gland, hot breath washing over it as Deku shuddered and bared his neck in submission. "You—fuck," he whimpered. "You sure, Deku?"

Deku reached back to thread his fingers in Katsuki's hair and drag him forward, whining as his alpha mouthed over his gland and waited for him to reply. "I'm sure," he cried, barely able to think with the fat knot locked in his ass and his alpha's body draped over his back. He could feel Katsuki cumming inside him. "Claim, alpha," he pleaded, grammar eluding him.

Katsuki's teeth sank into his neck a moment later and Deku went limp beneath him, purring so loud that he could feel his body shaking as their bond cemented. Katsuki purred back, utterly sated as he turned them on their sides, cradling Deku even as his hips continued to grind—pushing his cum as deep as he could with his jaw firmly clamped over Deku's mating gland.

When he finally released Deku's neck, the nerd tilted his head back with a sleepy, satisfied smile—kissing Katsuki so fucking softly that it barely felt real. They were still tied, so he couldn't mark Katsuki back, but he reached back to run his wrist over Katsuki's mating gland, scenting him as their lips moved together. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy, lulled by Deku's warm body relaxing into him.

"I love you," he mumbled against Deku's lips, tightening his grip to pull him closer.

Deku grinned, nestling back into Katsuki's hold. "I love you more," he purred, teasing lilt to his voice.

"No you fucking don't," Katsuki huffed, unable to resist the urge to bicker despite being balls-deep inside his new mate and half-asleep.

"Do too."

Even stuck on his knot and fucked beyond reason, Deku was a little shit. Katsuki's heart fluttered. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect.

Katsuki woke up slowly, more weighed down than normal but not in a bad way. His limbs felt heavy, and there was a physical weight on top of him.

His den smelled good, like him and Deku—almost overpowering. It finally smelled right in here. He wondered if the rest of the house smelled the same, or if he'd need to fuck Deku on every surface in the house to make his territory smell like them. He honestly hoped for the latter.

His knot had gone down sometime during the night, and Deku had turned in his arms and wrapped his scarred arms around Katsuki's waist, burying his face in his chest. His brand new mating mark stood in stark contrast to his pale, freckled skin, and it made him fucking crazy with pride.

He was gonna make him breakfast. He'd be the best fucking alpha ever, and that started with making a big-ass breakfast for his brand new mate. After all, if last night was any indication, the nerd would need his energy. He attempted to extract himself from Deku's octopus grip, but it only tightened.

"Nerd," he muttered, shuffling so he had enough space to kiss Deku's forehead, then his nose. "Deku, wake up."

"Nooooo," he whined, burying his face back in Katsuki's pecs. "Don'wanna."

"Wake up, baby," he crooned, running his hand through emerald curls. "You gotta put a bandage on your mating mark or it'll get infected. And I wanna make breakfast."

"Nooooo."

"I'll make coffee," he cajoled. No response. "I'll make some crappy empty-calorie breakfast with too much sugar," he counter-offered.

Deku peered up at him through his lashes. "Pancakes?" he asked, pouting. Katsuki kissed him. He couldn't help himself.

"Sure," he chuckled. "Pancakes. I'll even get some strawberries and syrup delivered," he promised. Deku's pout didn't disappear, but his arms unwound from Katsuki's waist. Katsuki kissed him one last time—deeper this time—swiping his tongue over pouting lips and then the ridge of Deku's teeth until his omega was purring again. "Love you," he said, flushing but excited to say it as often as he wanted.

Deku blushed, too—face going soft with adoration and wonder. "I love you too," he breathed.

"Take a shower and I'll put a bandage on that when you come downstairs," he said, awfully tempted to stay here and spoon Deku's brains out. With an astounding amount of willpower, Katsuki got out of bed and escaped their den, trudging downstairs. He noted the scent of champagne, remembering that there was a smashed glass somewhere that he needed to clean up.

By the time Deku wandered downstairs wearing one of Katsuki's shirts, Katsuki was ladling batter onto a hot pan. His omega came up beside him, grabbing his wrist and planting it over his neck with a little scowl. "What's wrong?" Katsuki chuckled.

"Washed your scent away. Scent me," he demanded, sticking his lower lip out like the little brat he was. Katsuki complied easily, making sure to keep an eye on the pancakes even as he swiped his wrists over Deku's neck and across his shoulders then down his arms so that he could scent the glands at Deku's wrists too.

"Happy?" Katsuki asked, gently biting Deku's nose just to watch it scrunch up in protest.

"Happy," he agreed, reaching up to run his thumb over his mating mark.

Katsuki kissed the top of his head, hiding his smile in damp curls. "Good," he murmured. Then he pulled back so he could attend to his pancakes. "So, when are you moving in?"

He could hear the smile in Deku's voice when he replied and he couldn't help but smile too, butterflies rioting in his stomach. "I can start today if you want. But we should probably tell our friends and family or something, right?"

"Parents," Katuski counter-offered. "Friends are on my shit-list right now, but I don't want my dumbasses to hear about it from your dumbasses."

"Sure," Deku agreed. "So, do we tell them together?"

"...We should go see your ma this weekend," he replied slowly, stacking pancakes onto plates. "But we should tell my ma before we see her. Minimize collateral damage and all that." He looked up just in time to see Deku nodding in agreement. He'd seen Hurricane Mitsuki one too many times, too.

"When, though? After my mom? Do you need more time to prepare?"

Katsuki knew he was genuinely trying to make it easier on him, but Katsuki couldn't help it. He saw it as a challenge. So, he slid Deku's pancakes across the counter, topping it with sliced strawberries and powdered sugar and handing him a grenade-shaped glass syrup dispenser that he'd been warming in a pot of hot water.

Then, he grabbed his phone from the coffee table where it had been abandoned last night and sat next to his omega, throwing his arm over the back of his chair before pressing the call button. Deku shook his head in amusement as he drowned his pancakes in syrup.

His mother picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, Ma."

"Katsuki? Are you okay? You never call me, and you literally haven't called me Ma in years—it's always hag this and swamp witch that—"

"Ma," he snapped, pinching Deku for giggling as his mom fell silent. "I just wanted to let you know that my place is done. You should come by next week and see it."

"Finally, you little shit! What the hell took you so long?"

"Just some...finishing touches."

"What finishing touches take two fuckin' months?" she huffed. Deku had his hand over his mouth to silence his laughter now, shoulders shaking. Katsuki's undying need to troll his mother had always amused him.

"Give me a break," he chuckled. "I had to move in my omega."

They grinned at each other as silence bloomed on the other end of the line. In the time Mitsuki took to process, Deku leaned over and gave him a sweet (and syrupy) kiss. He was purring. Probably because Katsuki had called him his omega.

Deku was his omega. Holy shit.

Then, Mitsuki seemed to get her shit together.

"YOUR WHAT?!"