Chapter Text
When Katsuki was a kid, he was a fucking dickhead.
Especially before he presented.
It’s funny, people would always talk about how teenagers only got worse once they presented. Attitude problems would multiply and mood swings would come far more frequently. Hormones raged, and when ruts and heats were added to the mix? It all seemed like a recipe for disaster, especially to the adults who would side-eye Katsuki while they spoke in hushed whispers about it, as if waiting for him to suddenly launch into his new designation with a puff of smoke and hit them with an explosion afterwards.
It turns out that for Katsuki, everything was the opposite of how adults said it’d be. Having a heightened sense of smell and being privy to people’s emotions through their scents actually helped Katsuki a lot. He wasn’t a total dick when he understood where someone was coming from, when he could decipher their intentions and emotions in advance rather than solely relying on social cues. After all, people’s scents were far more honest than their words, offering a different perspective than what they might show on the outside. It was mostly when he had no context as to what was happening that Katsuki’s prickly personality began to show.
So when Katsuki presented and got smacked in the face with all sorts of new scents and smells, when he could decipher and understand the emotions of everyone around him, of omegas in particular, it was only then that he realised he was a bigger dickhead than he had initially thought. A huge fucking dickhead, actually. And to this day, he still hasn’t forgiven himself for how he acted when he was foolish and unpresented, or for how he treated one omega in particular.
Said omega?
Todoroki Shouto.
Training had sucked that day.
He had been paired with Todoroki for a hand-to-hand sparring session, and at first he had been excited. It had only been a short few months since the sports festival, and he still felt humiliated by how the bastard had cheated him out of a proper fight. He was practically bouncing on his feet as everyone paired up, eyeing Icyhot with a wicked grin as groups took their turns and their match drew nearer.
Except when Todoroki finally stepped up to the mat, something was wrong. He was slow and uncoordinated, face flushed and slightly sweaty. It was entirely too easy to get a foot under him and knock him to the ground. Icyhot barely caught himself on a hand, and by then Katsuki was already on top of him, rolling him until he was forced beneath him with hands pinned behind his back. There was a moment of resistance, Icyhot’s muscles tightening as if preparing to throw him off, but strangely, he didn’t. Instead, his nose twitched and his eyelashes fluttered, and just like that, his body went lax.
“This one goes to Bakugou,” Aizawa drawled, sounding almost bored and already eyeing the other pairs that sparred next to them. “Get up, Todoroki. Try to pay more attention next round.”
Icyhot stood slowly, breathing heavily despite the fact they’d only gone one round. He looked distracted, like he wasn’t focused on the match at all, eyes and mind elsewhere. It seemed like he was just going through the motions, and Katsuki easily wrestled him to the floor again. Shouto lay beneath him on his back this time, hair splayed out on the ground. He didn’t even fight back as Katsuki held him down by the wrists. He just inhaled, slow and deep, eyes still far away.
“Again,” Aizawa said, but this time he threw Icyhot a questioning look. For some reason, it made humiliation light in Katsuki’s veins. Even his teacher knew that Todoroki wasn’t taking him seriously. The damn bastard didn’t care about their spar.
Katsuki felt anger simmer beneath his skin.
Todoroki got to his feet as soon as Katsuki was off of him, but for some reason he tilted closely into his space instead of backing away. Katsuki jerked back and circled him. What the fuck? Was the bastard trying to taunt him now?
He waited this time. He wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move again. He wanted Todoroki to come at him. He wanted him to show some goddamn passion.
But Icyhot didn’t move. He just waited, blinking dumbly until Katsuki had had enough.
“Come on,” he growled, shoving Todoroki back. It was a rough shove, nearly sending the boy sprawling. “Give me your all, goddamn it!”
Todoroki simply blinked his mismatched eyes at him, his pupils large and dark. Katsuki felt such a surge of frustration that he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him towards him again until they were nose to nose. This close he could see how Icyhot’s rosy cheeks had turned a shade darker since their last match. He could see the fine wisps of his hair clinging to sweaty skin. Todoroki’s breath ghosted his lips, eyebrows furrowing as his nose twitched. It was then that Katsuki realised he was sniffing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Katsuki shouted, shaking him.
“Bakugou Katsuki,” Aizawa sighed. He knew by the tone alone that his teacher was already done with his shit. “My office. Now.”
Katsuki let out a noise of frustration and shoved Todoroki again. Red-hot anger billowed in his chest. He wanted to punch him. To hit him until he was forced to fight properly. Until he was forced to see him, just how he saw that damned Deku at the sports festival. Why him? He thought. Why him and not me?
Instead, he turned and stalked to Aizawa’s office, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. He missed the rest of training so that his teacher could instruct him on how to properly treat his classmates. Another thing he missed was Todoroki’s gaze, following him as he left unaware, body swaying in his direction and nose still inhaling the last dregs of Katsuki’s smoky, unpresented scent.
Maybe if Icyhot hadn’t been the first one to present from the class, Katsuki would’ve known better. Or if he had just taken some time away from his unwavering obsession with becoming number one and instead listened when his peers talked about omegas, he might have even known the signs. Those signs seemed painfully obvious to everyone else, and by the next day, nearly half of the class seemed to have an idea about what had actually happened during the incident the night prior. Everyone except for him, because he wasn’t even in a position where his new classmates liked him well enough to share that information with him, either.
Katsuki wished he could change so many things, but by then the stones were already set. There was nothing he could do to go back and change what happened next, no matter how much he wished for it.
As soon as Katsuki left Aizawa’s office, he turned in the opposite direction of his dorm. He walked until he was pushing through the exit doors and stepping outside, cool wind blowing in his face. There he broke into a run, still in his clothes from gym, determined to sweat out all of the excess energy and frustration that swirled inside him. But no matter how hard or long he ran, the mere thought of Shouto embarrassing him in front of everyone again made his teeth clench. Why was he so persistent in not taking Katsuki seriously as an opponent? Why was he so set on making Katsuki look and feel weak?
He finally stopped once the sun had sunk below the horizon, dragging his tired legs to the showers to try and wash away the last of his frustrations. The hot water helped somewhat, his bad mood nearly fully tempered by the time he was clean. He was too tired to think, which is exactly what he wanted. He took his time as he dried his body off, only the wet and unruly tangle of hair on his head left to deal with as he walked towards his dorm.
There was no one else around at this time of night, which was good. Seeing one of his classmates would only worsen his mood again. Soon he was by his room, his hand raised towards the doorknob and still toweling his dripping hair when he thought he heard something from within.
He paused and listened, unsure, but there it was again. An audible thump and a rustle of fabric.
”What the…” he murmured, suddenly poised for danger. He dropped the towel, one hand raised and the other settled on the knob, his ears perked for a threat as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was another shuffle from behind the door, and along with it came a small, strange noise.
It sounded like a whine.
It was unmistakable now. There was an intruder in his room, and Katsuki had just run out of patience. Whoever it was was about to get their ass beat.
He shoved the door open, quick to rush through and raise his hand towards the source of the noise. When no target was immediately clear, his eyes scanned the room, falling to a pair of pale legs that twisted in his bed sheets, a pile of clothes covering the rest of their body.
What the hell? Did someone get their room wrong?
But that made no sense. The person was under Katsuki’s stuff. Not just his stuff. His dirty laundry. They’d have to know this wasn’t their room the moment they stepped inside. Katsuki’s hand hovered uncertainly only to snap straight when a head finally burrowed its way out of the nest of his laundry.
A fluffy red and white head.
”The fuck?” Katsuki shouted, anger quickly taking over his confusion. He didn’t dare drop his hand. This fucker had some nerve. “Icyhot, what the fuck do you think you’re doing in my room?!”
The response from Todoroki wasn’t what he expected. Instead of an answer, he gave him a noise : a low, drawn out whine as he shuffled back up the bed, Katsuki’s skull shirt clutched to his chest. Katsuki squinted his eyes, taking in the closer details. How Todoroki's pupils were just as wide and dark as they had been earlier, yet now his gaze was hazy and half-lidded. How there was a subtle sheen of sweat on his skin, shining in the dim lamp light. How he lightly trembled while another strangled whine spilled from his throat, his body tilting towards Katsuki.
”Are you on fucking drugs or something?!” Katsuki asked, because he didn’t know back then. He was young and naive, and he’d never seen an omega in heat before. For a moment, it occurred to ask if he was sick, if something was wrong, but he stupidly shook his head of the thought before he had the chance. “You know what? I don’t care. You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my room, Todoroki.”
He raised his hand higher as he spoke, sparks flying from his palm. He was one hundred percent serious with his threat, like the dumbass he was back then. Todoroki’s response was instantaneous, his pupils sharpening into something more alert, his lips curling back into a wobbling snarl. A growl that tapered into a sharp cry ripped from his throat, and Katsuki could barely make out the glittering sheen of frost in the air before a shard burst from Shouto’s left side, wrapping around the room and effectively knocking him over before he could shoot his own attack.
His room filled with ice at a rate that was startling, Katsuki aiming an explosion right through it. The explosion hit, but even the damaged ice that shattered and fell was quickly replaced by more and more. He scrambled to his feet, the ice closing in on him until Katsuki was effectively thrown from his own room.
”So now you decide to give it your all, huh?!” Katsuki shouted. His doorway was now a frozen wall of ice, jutting shards pointed dangerously in his direction. “Half ‘n’ Half!” Katsuki shouted, furious. “If you don’t get out of my room this fucking second, I swear I’m gonna—"
”Bakugou? What the hell is going on?” Kirishima muttered as he peered over from his own doorway, rubbing his eyes. Shouji stood further down the hall, tired and confused as well.
”That half ‘n’ half bastard took over my room!” Katsuki shouted, and his classmates didn’t even have time to ask for more details before Aizawa came rushing down the hall. The tall beta stopped right before Katsuki’s doorway, taking one sniff of the air before his face set into a scowl.
”Bakugou,” he said stiffly. “Go and stay in Kirishima’s room for the night. I’ll deal with Todoroki.”
”Hah?” Katsuki said, eye twitching. “Are you serious? I should just give up my room to him because he’s being a crazy bastard?!”
”Bakugou,” Aizawa said more sternly. “Go with Kirishima. Now.”
He was so mad, even as he did what he was told. For the whole night he glowered at the ceiling, listening as Aizawa and some other teachers made their way into his room to get Todoroki out. From time to time he’d even hear some of those weird little whines again, unable to make sense of them. What the hell was wrong with Halfie? Had he been hit by a quirk? Did he have the flu? Had he just gone fucking insane?
By the time he woke up in the morning, his room was once again vacant, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sopping fucking wet from melting ice. The balcony door had been left open to dry everything off, and the only things left intact were his bed and the clothes that were dumped on it. He huffed as he sorted through them, but they were all wet in weird places too, so he eventually just threw them all back into his laundry basket.
There were one or two things he couldn’t find, like his favourite black skull t-shirt that had probably been lost to the icy wreckage, but he didn’t give it more than a passing thought. Right now he had bigger concerns, and they all had to do with catching and throttling one red and white haired bastard.
It took four days after the incident for Icyhot to come back to class. Katsuki had been silently stewing in his anger since he left, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. When he demanded some answers, all Aizawa had told him was that Todoroki was fine and just going through some changes. Not that he was sick, or that he had picked up a mysterious drug habit. No real explanation whatsoever, in fact. Katsuki didn’t get so much as an apology, and it irked him to no end. His room was destroyed, and for what?
Something pulled at Katsuki the entire time Icyhot was away. He grew frustrated the longer he didn’t have his eyes on him, the longer he didn’t know what exactly was going on. Was Todoroki even still on UA grounds? The only way he could make sense of it all was telling himself that it was because he was still waiting for some answers, or at the very least an apology.
But when Todoroki finally returned, he didn’t even look Katsuki’s way. He walked right by him, effectively ignoring him, and plopped right down in his seat like he’d never been gone. Somehow, that felt worse than everything else combined, and Katsuki found his hands crackling against the paper in his notepad.
He sat and stewed while everyone else crowded around Todoroki, and they were all so fucking nice to him. They asked him if he was feeling better, if there was anything he needed. All while Katsuki could do nothing but sit there and listen.
“It must have made you feel really sick,” Deku said, loud enough that the words grated on Katsuki’s ears. “You were gone for so long!”
Sick my ass, Katsuki thought. He saw him in his room that night. Yeah, he was a little off, but he wasn’t sick. Even Aizawa had said so. It was more like the bastard had lost his damn mind.
“Did you have a fever?” Kirishima asked, his eyebrows knitted as he apprehensively darted his gaze towards Katsuki. That big redheaded moron had been with Katsuki all night when Icyhot had sequestered himself in his room, so Katsuki had no idea why he would ask that when he already knew it wasn’t the case.
Kirishima had also been the only person that Katsuki had told about what Aizawa had said. That Icyhot was just going through some damn changes. The redhead hadn’t said anything back to him at the time, but now he wanted to act like he knew nothing at all of it? It only served to annoy Katsuki even more. He clenched his jaw to keep his mouth shut, trying to push his rapidly worsening temper down.
“Yes,” Todoroki answered hesitantly. “But it was fine.”
If he had a bit more know-how, he would’ve realised what had actually happened. He would have known that Shouto had had his first heat, and that he was the first one in Class-A to present.
He would’ve known that he was an omega who simply sought the comfort and safety of someone he trusted, and that person had somehow been Katsuki.
But he didn't have more know-how. If you had asked him before, he would have assumed that Icyhot would probably be a beta or an alpha once he presented, if he thought about presentations at all. But he didn’t. He didn’t care about anything but training his ass off to become number one. But he wishes he had known, back then. That it hadn’t taken him until he presented himself to realise just how shitty he was being to Shouto.
And he wishes he hadn’t said what he said next, growing more inflamed with every word that Todoroki said.
“It was fucking fine, huh?”
He pushed himself up and stalked across the room until he stopped in front of Todoroki’s desk. His classmates stood straighter, throwing confused glances at one another.
“It wasn’t fine for my room though, was it?” Katsuki continued. “Did you know that half of my shit is ruined?”
“I…” Todoroki said. “I didn’t know, but my father will reimburse you for any damage.”
“I don’t want your daddy’s money,” Katsuki snapped. But he did want…something. An apology, maybe. That must be it. And he wanted it right here, in front of everyone.
“Wait, what happened?” Kaminari asked, looking between them both.
Katsuki was sure half the class must have known about what had happened by then, but Denki was always slow on the uptake. Todoroki suddenly went pale, fingers clutching the edge of his book. Now that Katsuki was closer, he could see that Icyhot’s eyes were rimmed in purple. That he looked tired and…yeah, maybe a little sick, actually. Something like panic crossed his face, and for a moment the sight of it nearly made Katsuki relent.
Nearly.
“He broke into my room and rolled around in my damn bed, that’s what happened. Oh yeah, and he did it under all of my dirty fucking laundry too, like a goddamn freak,” Katsuki said, looking directly at him. “What? Now you’ve got nothing to say?”
Deku’s mouth dropped open. Momo made a small gasp of shock while Kaminari looked guilty for even asking. Katsuki ignored them and levelled Todoroki with a glare, waiting for him to fight back. To finally show him some of that blazing anger he gave Deku at the sports festival, or a spark of the anger he showed Katsuki when they first met, even.
But the only thing that happened was Todoroki grabbing his books, and before Katsuki could blink, he was running.
“Shou-chan!” Deku called out, already chasing after him. Momo and Denki followed, while Kirishima turned to him with a frown.
“That wasn’t very manly, dude,” Kirishima said. Katsuki had never heard him sound so disappointed.
“Like I give a fuck,” Katsuki said, stomping back to his seat, but he wasn’t sure that was true. His heart was racing in his chest, his palms clammy with sweat. “He had it coming.”
He thought that Kirishima might have said more, but Aizawa walked into class right then. Iida too, who looked at Todoroki’s empty chair with no small amount of confusion. Katsuki slumped back in his seat, waiting for the inevitable reprimanding he’d get from the both of them once Todoroki spilled about what had happened, even though it was Katsuki who was the real damn victim.
To his surprise, that reprimanding never came, because Todoroki didn’t spill. For some reason, confronting him hadn’t even made Katsuki feel any better. If anything, it just made him feel worse, especially now that the only time Icyhot ever looked at him was to send him a cold, hard glare. The rest of the class had looked at him funny for a while too, even that damned Deku, like he had taken it too far this time. Which just didn’t make any fucking sense to Katsuki.
Sometimes, Katsuki even had to swallow down the guilt that threatened to rise whenever he thought about it too much, especially when the word ‘omega’ started being whispered around alongside Todoroki’s name. Still, he didn’t really see what the big deal was. He shouldn’t get special treatment just because he presented before anyone else. There was once or twice where Katsuki even wanted to bring up what happened again in a fit of anger, but there was no point when Todoroki no longer held back his punches during training. He no longer had any problem with making a fool of Katsuki in front of the whole class, although now in an entirely different way. Katsuki was ashamed to say he lost their spars more often than he won them now that he’d brought something colder out in Shouto. And somehow, even when he won, there was still no satisfaction in it, yet he couldn’t understand why.
It was just over three months later when Katsuki woke up covered in a heavy layer of sweat, his gums and jaw aching. His body felt too hot, the light from his window too bright, and all around him were scents and smells so powerful they made his head spin. It was all too much. He moaned, hands covering his eyes as he curled in on himself in an attempt to get away from it all. He wondered what was happening, why his body felt so tight, all his muscles locked up while his mouth pulsed in pain. He felt nauseous, like his stomach was a hair trigger away from emptying itself, and there was no comfort to be found in any of his surroundings. He opened his mouth to call for help, but all that left him was a pained gasp.
And then, as he sucked in a breath, a scent stuck in his throat. It was more lovely than anything he’d ever experienced. His pains and discomfort were momentarily forgotten as he fell from his bed in pursuit of it, breathing raggedly as he reached his hand beneath the metal bed frame, fumbling and searching until his fingers closed around something. He tugged it out and found that, strangely, it was one of his own shirts. Drool pooled past his sore lips as he brought it to his nose and inhaled, a sharp gasp pulled from his throat. It was covered in that scent. His gasp turned into a pleased groan, his eyes rolling back as he licked at the fabric, as the taste of that scent bloomed on his tongue. It was like a cake, warm and fresh from the oven except even sweeter. Suddenly he felt tight somewhere else, a pronounced ache shooting straight down his body to his groin. He fumbled at his waist band, eyes rolling as he got a hand around himself, already hard and leaking and desperate for relief.
He clenched his eyes shut as he stroked, as the sudden image of red and white hair splayed on the gym floor just a short few months ago came to him unbidden. Mismatched eyes peered up at him as Katsuki’s hands curled around delicate wrists. Strange thoughts rushed through his head, like how the omega had been so good to submit to his alpha like that, to not attempt to fight back at all. Like how his omega was strong and powerful, because of course he was; a strong alpha needed an even stronger mate to bear their pups. He thought of those sweet little whines, the ones he heard that night through Kirishima’s wall, and imagined himself slipping inside his omega, their hips pressed snug together until those whines turned to wails and Katsuki’s knot was secured tight inside of him. His first knot popped in his hand at the very thought, a strangled noise leaving his mouth when it pulsed erratically, the sensation overwhelming. The following pulses of spend left him horribly oversensitive, and he struggled to figure out a way to hold the knot in his hands in a way that didn’t make him want to burst out of his own skin. He massaged himself until he got some of the sensations under control, fighting the waves of nausea that rolled through him as his body prepared itself for the next round. But whenever things got too bad, he could just turn and inhale Shouto’s scent, the comfort of it wrapping around him like a warm hug.
It was five days before Katsuki was back in class. Thankfully his rut had hit on a Wednesday, so he had the whole weekend to rest, recuperate and try to get a handle on all of the new scents and smells that invaded his senses. His nausea was all but gone by Sunday, but walking through the halls on Monday still proved difficult. It turned out that his nose was particularly sensitive compared to other alphas during presentation, which was apparently a good thing. It meant he’d be able to smell out danger better than his peers as they all got older.
He fought down the queasy feeling in his stomach as he traipsed through the hallways, assigning new scents to each of his classmates along the way. He passed Ururaka as she was taking books from her locker, and even though she was unpresented, Katsuki could smell something like cotton candy in her scent. Frog Face stood next to her, smelling of seaweed and rain.
Katsuki walked by them and reached his own locker, pulling it open as another scent approached him. It was strong and earthy, and somehow he already knew it was Shitty Hair before he even turned to look at him.
“You’re back,” Kirishima smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “How was it?”
“It was shit,” Katsuki answered. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“You don’t know that,” Kirishima said, laughing. But Katsuki did know. He could smell how Kirishima’s scent was stronger than the others, on the verge of presentation, and he could already tell from the type of scent that he was going to be an alpha. He could tell so many things, like how Kirishima actually felt a little anxious after hearing Katsuki’s answer, yet still he hid it behind a laugh.
“I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Katsuki corrected himself, even though it did fucking suck. “Nothing you couldn’t handle, anyway.”
Kirishima looked taken aback at the comment, but then a true smile split his face. Katsuki knew it was true this time, because he could smell the elation in his scent.
“If you think I can handle it then I should be fine,” Kirishima said. Katsuki merely grunted in acknowledgement, already uncomfortable with the fact that he knew so much more about his friend than he was letting on.
“Kacchaaaan!” someone drawled as a hand wrapped around his neck. This scent was stranger than the others, like static and fizzy lemonade.
“Pikachu,” he muttered, shrugging him off. “Stop calling me that.”
Just as he had known Kirishima’s scent meant he’d most likely be an alpha, there was something about Denki’s scent that screamed omega. Funny, Katsuki wouldn’t have thought it before, but it was so clear now. Though his scent wasn’t nearly as strong as Kirishima’s. He probably wouldn’t present for a while.
“Can I see your fangs? Are they really big now?” Kaminari asked, nearly bouncing on the spot as he once again leaned into his space, eyes big and curious. Katsuki pushed him away by the face.
“Are you dumb? I only presented last week. They won’t be big for years.”
“Oh. I probably should have paid more attention during class,” Kaminari muttered with a nervous laugh, but Katsuki could smell the hurt in his scent. He blinked, turning to look at him.
Did he really know so little about his own friends?
“We’ve barely gone over this in class,” he found himself huffing. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He found himself turning and reluctantly baring his teeth to show them off, Kaminari’s scent bouncing back to its previous excitement.
“Dude,” he said in awe, poking one of Katsuki’s canines. “I think you’re wrong about the ‘few years’ thing. These are definitely bigger.”
“Ever heard of personal space?” Katsuki said as he reeled back from Denki’s probing fingers, but there was hardly any bite in it. Honestly, his teeth were still feeling a little sensitive, and the touch nearly made his mouth twitch closed.
“His fangs still aren’t as sharp as yours,” Denki teased Kirishima, and Katsuki smelt the burst of elation in Kirishima’s scent as he nervously chuckled. Something like revulsion went through him as another new realisation hit. Did his friends both like each other like that? Ugh. Gross.
He stuffed the rest of his books in his bags with a sigh and turned, his friends following him. It was strange; he knew before that there was a natural order to their trio, that Kirishima and Kaminari tended to follow him. But it was apparent to him now more than ever that he was the leader. His friends were no longer just his friends.
They were his pack.
He had barely grappled with the weight of that realisation when his senses were thoroughly overtaken by something else. A sliver of scent in the air, warm and sweet and comforting. Katsuki’s nose latched to it, knowing instantly who it belonged to. He followed it, letting it lead him through the halls and to his first class of the day, gaze searching for its owner as soon as he stepped through the door. His eyes fell to red and white hair, parted perfectly in the middle, some part of himself both elated and swelling with relief at the sight of him whole and well. Katsuki didn’t realise until that very moment how disconcerting not having his eyes on him had been for the week, and the new presence that lumbered in the corner of his mind yipped happily at simply being in Shouto’s proximity.
“Dude?” Kirishima said quietly from beside him, lightly knocking his shoulder. Denki had already crossed the room to chat with the girls, all while Katsuki had stood there staring like a moron.
“Come on,” Katsuki said as he moved to his seat. He kept Shouto in his peripheral the whole time, occasionally sneaking glances. Checking his skin for any hints of injuries, sniffing out his scent to decipher anything abnormal in it. But there was nothing. Shouto’s scent was calm and warm, and when he answered a question for Aizawa, his voice was like music to Katsuki’s ears.
He had thought about Shouto for the entire three days of his rut. His scent had been a soothing balm against what would’ve otherwise been a terrible experience, and even though that was unintentional on Shouto’s part, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.
He found himself distracted for the whole class, and when they broke for lunch, he kept himself only a small distance behind Shouto so that he could keep an eye on him. Iida and Deku flanked the omega as he made his way to the canteen, and Katsuki found himself wary of the nerd’s surroundings too. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so concerned with it, and the only thing that came to mind was that perhaps he had started to accept him more lately.
He watched as they all sat together, and then Denki brushed past him.
“I forgot to take notes on Midnight's class for you while you were gone,” he said as he strutted towards the table where Shouto had sat. “Let me ask Midoriya if he has them!”
Katsuki opened his mouth, about to give him a firm no , but then he looked at Shouto again. His pleasant scent was still the strongest thing in the room to Katsuki, and he felt himself nervously swallow at the idea of getting closer to him. He wanted to hear his voice, to see his pretty eyes up close again. He just wanted to be in his presence, to answer the strange pull that was tugging towards him all morning, and the temptation was too much to resist. He followed Denki, Kirishima at his side, and when Pikachu approached the table, they all looked up to him and then over his shoulder, their line of sight leading to Katsuki.
“Could I get the notes off you for Bakubro?” Kaminari asked Deku. The nerd nodded and fumbled to take out his notebook, but that wasn’t what Katsuki focused on. The last one to look up was Shouto, his chopsticks gone still in his hands as his mismatched eyes locked on Katsuki. All at once, the lovely scent that Katsuki had been following all morning soured, going from soft and warm to something icy and defensive. The omega bristled at his approach, shoulders tightened defensively and eyes glaring in disdain. Katsuki felt his stomach plummet, the breath gone still in his chest.
“Here you go,” Deku said, handing the notes directly to Katsuki instead of Denki. “It’s good to see you back, Kacchan!”
“Thanks,” he muttered, still distracted by the way Shouto’s scent recoiled at him. His heart was beating funny in his chest, that new other part of himself simpering in the back of his mind. His quiet response had everyone sharing suspicious looks with each other, but Katsuki couldn’t bear to be the reason for Shouto’s scent souring a second longer. He turned and made his way to a table on the other side of the hall, far enough away that the omega could settle and his scent could grow comfortable again. Kirishima trailed after him once he said a quick goodbye to everyone, and eventually he slid into the seat next to him. Denki stayed with the others. It was a good thing, really, because Katsuki could already hear that he was making Izuku laugh, and Shouto’s scent had regained a bit of its prior warmth as he too became distracted by Denki’s antics.
“You good?” Kirishima asked, a note of concern in his scent.
“Yeah,” Katsuki said, eyeing Shouto from across the hall, chest heavy with realisation. “I’m fine.”
“Today,” Midnight said after she upended a box of items on the table, “we’re going to be learning about A/B/O biology!”
Some people snickered as they saw the things that were laid out. Some people flushed in embarrassment. Packets of condoms, heat aids and more sat on the desk in front of their teacher as she smiled and began to speak.
“Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering what these are for,” she said, waving a hand at the items, “but first we’re going to talk about presenting and what it means for each designation.” She paused, looking around the mixed room of both Class A and B. “I know that one or two of you here have already presented, but I still ask you to listen carefully! There’s still a lot for you to learn.”
Denki elbowed him and sent him a goofy smile, but Katsuki didn’t react to it at all. All he could focus on was Shouto’s scent and how quickly it had dampened on the other side of the room. Katsuki hadn’t been bothering him lately, since his very presence seemed to set the omega on edge. He had just tried to stay out of his way, watching only from his peripheral and subtly checking his scent when it would pass by his nose, which happened to be often. Shouto’s scent had been warm and happy earlier, but now…
“If you present as a beta, you’re in luck,” Midnight said, pointing to the board where she had already drawn some crude images in chalk. “That’s because betas don’t really present at all. You get to skip all of the nonsense with scents, ruts and heats. As a hero, that can be a positive, as it won’t interfere with your work. On the other hand, not being able to utilise your nose like an alpha or omega could also be a big negative on the battlefield. You will have some heightened scent as you get older, but not much. Betas will have to hone their other skills to make up for their lack of smell. Now, on to alphas…”
Katsuki listened as she talked them through the basics of presenting as an alpha. It seemed like he had experienced the worst of the symptoms she listed off: nausea, teething pain, hot flushes and the more intimate aspects. She described the anatomy of a knot and where to stick it, much to the delight of some students who laughed and made comments under their breath. Katsuki didn’t pay too much attention; his dad had already explained everything to him after his first rut despite Katsuki’s obvious embarrassment. In the end, he was just glad it hadn’t been his mom telling him how to squeeze a knot properly.
“Now,” she finally said, “let’s talk about omegas and their form of presentation, which is a heat. To start, first heats tend to be much more intense than first ruts, and the symptoms can be very overwhelming. It’s important that you know the signs of an upcoming heat so that you can prepare yourself properly to go through it for the first time.”
Katsuki swallowed, suddenly feeling cold. Images flicked through his head of Shouto in his bed, confused and afraid.
“First heats can often be painful,” Midnight continued, “so it’s recommended to have pain medicine on hand, along with heat aids, like the ones you can see here—"
Was Shouto in pain when he was in Katsuki’s bed? Was that what those noises were? Once Katsuki presented, he assumed they were noises of pleasure, but now…
“It’s also important to have a safe space prepared in advance to have your first heat in, as it can be dangerous to try and find somewhere in the midst of an ongoing heat.”
Each word from Midnight’s mouth caused a fluctuation in Shouto’s scent, the same scent that Katsuki had become so accustomed to. He wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to Shouto after he left Katsuki’s room? He hadn’t been in the dorms, because Katsuki hadn’t heard his soft footsteps from the room above in the days that followed. Katsuki stayed at UA while he had his rut, because it was already too late to go home. But what about Shouto? What even was home to him? Katsuki thought of Endeavor, the hulking alpha from the sports festival. He thought of Shouto’s talk with Deku that he shouldn’t have heard, where he described how he got his scar. He couldn’t imagine Shouto’s home being a very safe place for an omega, let alone one in heat. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t told anyone about his symptoms. Maybe that’s why the place he had found himself in ended up being Katsuki’s room. A memory resurfaced, Shouto telling someone that they were both friends just before his heat hit. Katsuki had denied it vehemently. Is that why Shouto chose his room? Or had he just stumbled inside because he couldn’t make it to his own, losing control of his own body and seeking refuge?
With every dip in Shouto’s scent, Katsuki found himself growing short of breath. All the scents in the room were doing that thing where they fought for his attention and overwhelmed him. The other presence in his mind—the alpha in there—paced restlessly back and forth, over and over, just as it had been doing since he first smelled that awful shift in Shouto’s scent weeks ago. HIs mind filled with imaginings; Shouto who was in Katsuki's room with nowhere else to go, his inner omega knowing that home was unsafe. Shouto who was in pain, struggling, confused, all while Katsuki had a hand raised to attack him. Shouto who was forced to be seen by so many teachers when he was so vulnerable, as they moved him from the place he deemed safe enough to have a heat. Shouto who was humiliated by Katsuki in front of their peers after going through so much, when all he had sought was a little piece of comfort, the exact kind of comfort that Katsuki had gotten from Shouto’s scent during his rut.
That wasn’t very manly, Kirishima’s voice echoed in his head.
What kind of alpha are you? his own voice followed. What kind of alpha would try to harm an omega in heat?
“Bakugou?” someone whispered, and when he looked to the side it was Denki, peering over at him in worry.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Katsuki said in one quick breath, chair scraping beneath his feet. The room flew by him as he headed straight for the door, not even waiting for permission. He didn’t hear his classmates' voices, he didn’t see their curious stares. He didn’t even see Shouto blinking up at him, the omega’s nose twitching in surprise. Katsuki left the classroom and walked on as the walls passed by in a blur, until he was shutting and locking a stall door behind him. He leaned against it and slid to the floor, his breathing fast and harsh as he dropped his head in his hands.
What has he done?
Katsuki watched from his peripheral as Shouto fought an android during training, using a mix of hand-to-hand combat and his quirk. Aizawa made sure they could all fight even without the use of their quirk, just in case there was ever a scenario where they had to. Their teacher always made sure that Shouto in particular honed his fighting skills since he was used to more long-range techniques. Right now, he was mostly focused on applying those newer skills against the android while using his quirk as minimally as possible. He had been sparring for around twenty minutes without pause when the android shoved him back with force. He took a deep breath, holding up his hand in the sign for it to power down. He turned, momentarily catching Katsuki’s eye before he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Somehow, somewhere between kidnappings and failing (and then re-taking) their provisional licence exams, Shouto had stopped bristling in Katsuki’s presence. Katsuki wasn’t sure if it was because they were on semi-good terms or if it was the result of the scent control training they were doing now that half of the class were presented. All he knew was that the moment Shouto’s scent stopped souring in his presence, it felt like a weight had come off his chest for the first time in months.
He knew whatever he felt for Shouto was more than just friendly. He knew there was something linking him to the omega, that perhaps that link had even happened long before he presented. Maybe it had happened the moment they met. It was so long ago and so much had happened since then that Katsuki wasn’t sure.
One thing he was sure of was that he wanted Shouto in his life. By that, he meant in his pack. Sure, Katsuki knew that even if their tentative friendship evolved past what it was now, it would never go further than just friends. Katsuki wouldn’t allow himself to even entertain the idea of that after what he’d done, and he would never insult Shouto by asking either. But he would keep him safe, or as safe as a person could hope to be in their line of work, and he’d always make sure he had somewhere to go where he could relax and be comfortable. He’d take care of him, just like he’d take care of Denki and Eijiro and even that damned Deku now, and if anything it was the least Katsuki owed him.
Shouto was still wiping the sweat from his face when the android lifted a robotic arm, a red dot aimed right at the omega’s back. The hand signal must not have been clear enough, because the android went into long-range shooting mode instead of powering down. The red dot blinked faster, signaling the droid was about to shoot.
“Icyhot, move!” Katsuki shouted, the omega looking at him in surprise. Katsuki was already shooting an AP Shot right at the droid’s arm, his quirk slicing through it like a knife through butter. The droid’s arm fell, but the shot still fired, zapping the ground by Shouto’s feet. He stumbled as he dodged the attack, avoiding it but still falling on his ass.
Katsuki blasted over to him in a second, holding out a hand for Shouto to take. The omega eyed it warily for a moment, but then he slipped his warm palm into Katsuki’s hold, letting him pull him to his feet.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Shouto said, letting go of his hand.
“Tch. I was hardly going to let it blow your head off, was I?” Katsuki countered, already missing the heat of Shouto’s hold. Then, a little more lamely, “Besides, didn’t you say we were friends a while ago?”
He watched Shouto’s eyes widen a pinch, but his scent remained calm and steady. The fucker learned shit way too quickly. A moment later, Shouto’s lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile, and the very sight of it nearly stole the breath from Katsuki’s lungs.
“Yeah,” Shouto agreed, and finally his scent fluttered just the tiniest bit. Hesitant, but still warm and welcoming. “I did. Friends.”
Katsuki still planned to make him part of his pack, but for now?
Friends would have to do.