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Shouto’s shivering miserably with a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders when Katsuki comes home and finds him hugging his knees to his chest.
The clock on the wall says it’s just past 3 a.m. Katsuki’s still in his hero suit. The door creaks when he pushes it open after his key turns in the lock. It’s been doing that recently, and they haven’t had the time to stop by and ask maintenance if the hinges need replacing, and—and of course Shouto’s thinking about why oiling the hinges hasn’t made them stop creaking like that, loud and grating, when—fuck.
He should have gotten a refill on his suppressants.
But he didn’t. They didn’t get the creaking fixed yet and Shouto didn’t stock up on suppressants so now here he is, awake at 3 a.m., shivering and slick between his thighs, cheeks burning when Katsuki’s soft beta scent sharpens and he steps closer, and says, “You in heat, sweetheart?”
Shouto whines, loud and embarrassing.
And then Katsuki—still in his hero suit, only his boots sitting neatly in the entryway—gets on his knees and cups Shouto’s cheek to tip his face up, tells him, “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
Shouto shakes his head, need so palpable he can smell it, nose scrunching at how thick his scent is in the air. If Katsuki keeps touching him like this, his suit is going to smell like Shouto for weeks no matter how much he cleans it. And then everyone at the agency will know just how much of a spoiled, useless omega Shouto really is, and—
And it’s not even Katsuki’s job to look after him.
It’s not like they’re mated. It’s not like he’s Katsuki’s omega. No, they’re just—
“Hurts,” Shouto whines, pressing his thighs tighter together. “Hurts inside, Katsuki.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki hisses. “It’s a real rough one, huh?”
Shouto nods. “Forgot my suppressants,” he sniffles, wiping at his face with the fuzzy sleeve of his pajama top. “Didn’t mean to forget. Wasn’t—wasn’t trying to make trouble for you. I promise I wasn’t, I just—we’ve had so much work.”
“Shh,” Katsuki coos, pulling Shouto to his chest until he ends up with his face tucked into Katsuki’s neck, just the fabric of his winter costume standing in the way of Shouto nuzzling at his scent gland. He likes Katsuki’s scent. It’s clean, soft. “I’ve got you, pretty omega.”
“You do?” Shouto asks, awed. “Really?”
They’ve never—
They’ve been living together for a while, but Shouto has always spent his heats on his own. Toughed it out a few times each year so his hormones wouldn’t get too messed up from the suppressants in case he woke up one day and decided he was tired of jumping from building to building chasing down bad guys and saving terrified civilians and would much rather stay home barefoot and round waiting for his alpha instead.
Katsuki isn’t an alpha.
To be fair, Shouto has never liked alphas. He tried once, back at U.A. Got permission and asked Hitoshi to help with his heat, and it was nice, Hitoshi was nice and his knot was nice and he didn’t bristle even once at Shouto’s heat aids, and by the end of it Shouto was so sore from being knotted he spent a few extra days in bed while Hitoshi apologetically stroked his hair and cut up fruit for him.
So. Yeah. Shouto’s pretty sure he can live without a knot.
“Of course,” Katsuki says. “What kind of shit friend lets someone be in pain when they can help?”
Shouto blinks. “We’re friends now?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Katsuki says, but his mouth is twitching. “You put your lingerie in with my load of laundry, last month.”
“It wasn’t lingerie,” Shouto protests. “Silk is just—nice to sleep in, sometimes. It’s not my fault they make most omega clothes like that.”
“Sure, baby,” Katsuki says placatingly, and—
And Shouto knows he doesn’t mean it like that, but he’s still holding him, still smells nice and comforting and familiar, and the slickness between his thighs gets worse anyway, and he bites his lip to stifle another embarrassing whine.
“Can you take me to bed now?”
“You sure, princess?”
Shouto nods, his warm face tucked into Katsuki’s neck. “Want you,” he confesses. “Want it to be you. I know you’ll take good care of me.”
Katsuki scoops him up like he barely weighs a thing, blanket and all, and Shouto has just enough time to wrap both arms around his neck before he carries him to bed like that. A stupid, eager part of Shouto wonders if he knows. If he has any idea how often Shouto’s guiltiest daydreams are just like this, give or take a white dress and a nice spring wedding venue.
It’s silly.
He probably wouldn’t be offering to help with Shouto’s heat at all if he knew.
He’s just being nice. Because they live together. It’s easier like this, isn’t it?
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Katsuki says, setting him down on his bed, and Shouto immediately has to fight the urge to roll around in his sheets because they smell just like Katsuki, and he could probably make it through his heat just like this if that scent never faded.
Katsuki’s eyes are so dark with want Shouto doesn’t think he’d let him get through a heat with nothing but his fingers and sit by and watch even if Shouto wanted that, though.
“Really?” Shouto asks, painfully aware he’s in nothing but a pair of fuzzy pajamas without the safety of his blanket. His socks have frills on the hem. “You don’t mind that I’m like this?”
(Needy and useless and already heat-drunk, frayed slivers of self-restraint the only thing keeping him from unbuckling Katsuki’s pants and sticking his tongue out just to rub the wet head of his cock against it.)
Katsuki scoffs. “Offered to help, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but I’m—”
“You’re beautiful,” Katsuki says. “It’s not a chore, Shouto, c’mon. Half the agency is in love with you.”
“Yeah,” Shouto pouts. “But they don’t wash my pajamas for me.”
Katsuki laughs like he can’t help it. “You think you’re cute, huh, you brat?”
“My roommate thinks I’m adorable, actually,” Shouto says, batting his eyelashes, and Katsuki—
Katsuki leans in and nips at this throat, warm tongue dragging over the bite and then upupup until he’s licking Shouto’s jaw.
Oh, thinks Shouto. That’s—
…
By the time Katsuki takes his own clothes off, Shouto’s in nothing but his panties, all wet and sticking to his puffy clit.
It’s unfair, is what it is, and Shouto closes his thighs on reflex alone when Katsuki gets on the bed, the bulge in his underwear so prominent the thin fabric stretching over it is honestly kind of offensive.
“What?” he laughs. “Scared, little omega?”
Shouto swallows. “You’re big.”
“You dated that mountain yeti,” Katsuki huffs, like just thinking about it offends him. “I’m guessing he was proportional.”
“For two weeks,” Shouto protests, yelping when Katsuki’s rough fingers drag along the inside of his thigh. “We didn’t—I didn’t get to check his, uh, proportions.”
“Really?” Katsuki asks.
Shouto’s mouth purses. “Are you calling me easy, Dynamight-san?”
Katsuki laughs again. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean it like that, princess. Just figured—what else was there to like about him, you know?”
Shouto hums thoughtfully. “Well,” he says. “Inasa was good with his hands.”
Katsuki’s fingers dig into his thigh hard enough to bruise. “Good thing I’m better with my mouth,” he says, and then he’s parting Shouto’s thighs, and he doesn’t even bother tugging off his panties, gets his mouth on him through the sticky fabric, and Shouto’s so desperate for any touch at all, so wound up from his heat that he doesn’t care, just gets his hands in Katsuki’s hair and whines at him to keep going.
Katsuki’s good at everything he does, so of course he makes Shouto come like that, just lapping at him where he’s all slick and puffy until Shouto’s arching off the bed and whining please, pleasure coiling tighttighttight deep and low in him, the knowledge that Katsuki’s the one making him feel good, the one on his knees on the bed just because he wanted to touch Shouto that much only getting him wetter with each swipe of Katsuki’s tongue, and once the sharp pleasure fades he’s left emptyemptyempty, and—
“Fuck me already,” Shouto whines.
“Impatient,” Katsuki says, but he finally tugs his panties off, and then he’s just. Looking at Shouto, dragging two thick fingers through the mess of slick between his thighs and spreading him open, blowing air over Shouto’s twitching clit.
“Mean,” Shouto retorts. “You’re so mean to me, Katsuki.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks, pressing his mouth to the inside of Shouto’s thigh, biting down hard enough to leave a mark behind before he kisses over that same spot. “Making you come is mean, sweetheart?”
“It is when you won’t put your cock in me,” Shouto says. “I’m wet enough for it.”
“Oh, I can see that, princess,” Katsuki says, pleased. “All for me?”
Just for that, Shouto reaches for a pillow and throws it at his head.
…
“That won’t fit,” Shouto says, even as Katsuki presses the flushed head of his cock to his dripping pussy.
It slides in despite his protesting, thick and stretching Shouto so wide he feels like he’s going to break.
“Dainty little omega,” Katsuki laughs. “Aren’t knots bigger than this, anyway?”
Shouto shakes his head. “You’re thicker than my toys,” he says. “And—and I don’t like getting knotted.”
“Oh,” says Katsuki, a hand still guiding his cock into Shouto. “Course you don’t.”
He sounds pleased about it, and that—
Shouto gasps when he pushes more of his cock inside, the stretch seemingly never ending, such a good kind of fullness, reaching so deep and opening him nice and wide, the itch of his heat finally starting to settle down with Katsuki filling him up so well.
“I like you,” Shouto says. He has to say it. Katsuki has to know. “I’d like you either way. Even if you had a knot.”
Katsuki cups his cheek, leans over him just to press his lips—a little chapped, but warm—to Shouto’s forehead and tell him, “That’s good to know, princess.”
He’s all the way in now, pressed snug deep inside, and Shouto presses a hand low on his belly just to feel the shape of him poking through. “Big,” he whines, eyes glassy. “Told you it was too big.”
“Made it fit, didn’t I?” Katsuki says, smug, and Shouto decides he doesn’t mind.
“Mm,” he says. “You did. Are you, ah, going to put pups in me now?”
“Fuck,” Katsuki says, cock twitching inside Shouto. “You want that? Really?”
Shouto bites his lip. “Someday,” he admits. “I wouldn’t mind. Not if it’s with you.”
“Want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart?” Katsuki asks, and now his hand is the one pressing down on Shouto’s belly, the pressure So Much when he pulls back just to fuck into Shouto hard and deep. “Want your little pussy filled with come until it takes? I can do that. We can go as many times as you want, I’ll keep you plugged up, take it out just to push my cock back in you, just gotta ask, baby, fuck you’re so warm inside, god, how did I go this long without fucking you?”
“You didn’t ask,” Shouto points out, shoulders lifting in a little shrug. “You, ah, you should’ve asked.”
“Right,” Katsuki laughs. “My bad, princess.”
“It’s okay,” Shouto says. “You’re making up for it now.”
Really—really well, too. He’s in so deep.
…
Once Shouto’s heat settles a little, Katsuki drags him into the bathroom despite all his protesting about how he doesn’t mind being covered in come as long as it’s Katsuki’s come. He’s lathering shampoo into Shouto’s hair with Shouto tucked into his lap in the bathtub, warmwarmwarm and solid and real pressed to Shouto’s back.
It’s nice. They should do this more often. The mind-blowingly good sex and the cuddling after. Katsuki’s really good at both. He always seems to know just what Shouto needs, just how to give it to him. How to take care of him until all the tension melts out of his bones and he’s soft and pliant and maybe even purring a little.
“You’re good at this,” Shouto says. “At, um, taking care of omegas.”
“I’m good at taking care of you,” Katsuki corrects. “But it’s real easy, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” Shouto asks.
“Mm,” Katsuki says, mouth pressed to the back of Shouto’s neck, nipping playfully at the skin there. “Easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?”
“Try and stop me, little omega.”
“But I don’t want you to stop,” Shouto says, lower lip jutting out. “I like it.”
And it’s like Katsuki can hear him pouting, because then he’s kissing Shouto wherever he can reach until Shouto turns in his hold and his mouth presses to the corner of Katsuki’s, and then they’re kissing for real, warmth coiling tighttighttight in Shouto’s belly all over again, until he laughs and has to pull away and reach for the showerhead to rinse the shampoo foam out of his eye.
(He pouts at Katsuki about that too, and Katsuki just kisses him some more. It’s not too bad.)