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Katsuki can barely believe his eyes. Amongst the rubble, battered and bruised, sits a ghost from his past, a bright orange shock blanket wrapped tightly around him and a bundle curled up into a ball against his chest. But there’s no mistaking the scent. He’s never been able to describe it, but it smells like familiarity, like warmth and kindness and home .
Years and years ago, just after middle school, he had presented and been whisked away to the matchmaking house to be paired with his Alpha. It was an old tradition, not one that was followed particularly well, but it was a good option if your family couldn’t afford expensive heat suppressants or services. Katsuki didn’t think anything of it, had chose not to think anything of it, and let Midoriya Izuku, a quirkless omega, recede into the back of his mind and into memory. He’d never heard anything of him after that, wasn’t invited to a wedding after high school, and Katsuki told himself that was for the best.
It didn’t matter that sometimes he had still wondered.
Now, his feet frozen in the middle of the destruction, the old yakuza building nearly leveled around him, he can’t process the image of the huddled figure sitting only a few yards away from him. Katsuki’s been working this case for months, and he had no idea .
Everyone is giving them wide berth, the omega and the child. Izuku is hunched over, his nose pressed into silvery hair, rocking her back and forth as she sobs. Katsuki can hear his quiet, soothing whispers, holding the girl tightly even though his hands are cut and bloody.
“It’s okay, baby,” are the first words Katsuki hears out of Izuku’s mouth in over a decade. “We’re safe, everything’s okay. The heroes came to rescue us.”
The child rubs her snotty face into Izuku’s chest, gasping out a few more weak sobs before she leans back to look up at him. “You won’t leave me?” she asks, her voice high and childish and fractured.
Katsuki can see the way Izuku’s heart breaks in his eyes, even as his face pulls up in a confident smile. “Never, ever, ever.”
“Never, ever, ever,” she parrots back, and hugs his neck tightly.
It’s then that Katsuki manages to unstick himself from the ground, but his hands are shaking as he moves, as if in a dream. Izuku has buried his face in the girl's shoulder, hugging her back, and when Katsuki crouches in front of them, he can see them trembling where they clutch each other, oblivious to the world and the destruction around them.
“Deku,” Katsuki whispers, his knees in the dirt, and Izuku’s head snaps up and leaves Katsuki breathless.
Those eyes are just as green as he remembers, dark and deep, ready to suck him in until Katsuki’s absolutely lost. Izuku stares at him, freckled cheeks pale and mouth slack in shock. The girl in his arms turns, her head tucked up under Katsuki’s chin and regards him with red-rimmed eyes.
Similar, so similar…
“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes.
They’re both released from the hospital a week later. The girl, Eri, has very minor injuries beyond a few light bruises. Izuku’s hands were deeply cut, but Recovery Girl had quickly seen to them. There will be scarring and maybe some limitation of movement, but otherwise he’s given a clean bill of health.
“I’m not sure what we’ll do next,” Izuku admits, Eri sitting on his lap as she traces the new skin along Izuku’s palm, her eyes serious and sad. “But we’ll figure it out.”
Except, the pros take it completely out of his hands.
“She needs constant supervision,” Aizawa says sternly, and Katsuki scowls at him. He’s forced himself into the conversation just by being a constant presence at the hospital. “Her quirk is unstable, Chisaki-sa—”
“Midoriya,” Izuku interrupts. “Please.”
Aizawa’s eyes soften. “Midoriya-san,” he concedes, and his voice is edged with pity. “It’s unsafe for her if it’s just the two of you. I’m afraid we can’t let you just walk out of here.”
Izuku’s shoulders slump. “Of course,” he sighs, hands twisting in his lap and his eyes shift over to the glass separating the hall to the little play area. Eri meets his eyes, and she waves hesitantly, her face somber. Izuku plasters on a convincing smile and waves back even as he says, voice icy, “I won’t let you separate me from her.”
“No one’s going to do that, Deku,” Katsuki says over Aizawa when his former teacher opens his mouth. He slides his glare over to the long haired pro, challenging. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Of course,” Aizawa says, completely ignoring Katsuki as if he hadn’t heard him. “I assure you, that is not our intention at all.”
“Okay then.” His gaze is still on Eri. Her little shoulders are drawn up to her ears, sitting at a table with a huge box of crayons and looking like she doesn’t know what to do with them. Izuku stands. “If that’s all?”
“Yes, for now.”
Nodding, Izuku passes them by without another word. His scent lingers and Katsuki lets himself bask in it for a moment, lets it calm his heart, and he watches as Izuku sits on the floor next to Eri, his arm automatically going around her shoulders. He begins to pull out the crayons one by one, and together the two begin coloring, hands bumping together as they take over the plain white paper, Izuku making a show of being clumsy and messy. And when he finally manages to draw a smile from Eri, as small and frail as it is, Katsuki feels the anxiety in his stomach settle just a bit.
Standing beside him, Aizawa hums, pleased. “You know him,” he comments. “What’s the relation there?”
“I knew him as a brat,” Katsuki says, shrugging. “We weren’t close when he presented. His mom sent him to a matchmaking house, and I never saw him after that.”
“Think you could remember the name of the house?”
“My mom would. I’ll ask.”
“Good. And Midoriya’s mother?”
“Moved to the states. I’ll get in contact with her,” Katsuki says. He runs a hand through his hair. He has no idea what Auntie Inko may know, but he’s certain she’ll be devastated. Belatedly, he tacks on at the end of his sentence, “If that’s okay.”
“Please do,” Aizawa says. He’s watching Izuku and Eri intently. “He trusts you.”
Which is true. Katsuki had rode in the ambulance with them to the hospital, where he had stayed while both of them were examined. He had been there when the both of them were questioned by the detectives, and he’d been there when Eri had finally fallen asleep, tucked up to Izuku’s side in the hospital bed. He had been there when, inevitably, Izuku’s shoulders began to shake and his eyes had filled with tears and his throat had closed up. Izuku used to cry loudly, obnoxiously, and Katsuki had always bullied him for it as a child. But now, Izuku sobs are near silent, a hand pressed over his mouth to stifle his breaths.
He had flinched when Katsuki had reached for him, but allowed him the touch, the two hands on his arms and no more, just enough to hold him upright. And when his eyes finally dried, and his sobs under control, he’d smiled at Katsuki and whispered, “Thank you, Kacchan.”
“I guess,” Katsuki says to Aizawa. “Don’t know why.”
Aizawa levels him with a look, but it’s accompanied by a genuine smile. “You’ve done a lot of growing, Bakugou. Don’t forget that.”
Izuku lives on U.A.’s campus for nearly a year. As soon as Inko gets the call, she immediately flies out, sans husband as usual. She’s constantly weepy in the weeks after, babbling about moving back to Japan and doing everything she can and how sorry she is, how she failed her son, and—
“No, mom, stop,” Izuku says eventually, his own face splotchy with tears. “Mom, you’re happy with Dad right? In America? Then stay there with him.”
There’s a full blown argument after that and many, many more tears, but a few weeks later, Inko’s back on a plane with the promise to visit soon. Izuku tells her not to come back until he has a place of his own.
“Katsuki-kun,” Inko says to him in the airport, because he’s the one Mitsuki had roped into seeing her off, and really, Katsuki hadn’t put up too much of a fight. “I don’t mean to burden you, but will you… Will, you please—”
“I will,” Katsuki says, because he can’t think of anything else to do, when he feels like he failed Izuku too. “I’ll look after him.”
Inko smiles a mother’s smile, full of knowing and relief and sadness all at once. “I know you will,” is all she says before she goes back to America, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
So, Izuku lives on U.A.’s campus, within close proximity Aizawa. Eri spends the time slowly learning her quirk in a gentle, unpressured environment. And she thrives there, under the kind attention of staff and teachers. She rarely smiles, and even rarer are her laughs, but when she does, it’s near blinding, watching a withdrawn, abused child heal. Izuku looks at her with so much love and pride in his eyes, but his smile is a bit like Inko’s had been, months ago at an airport with only Katsuki to witness.
“I wish that she could have had a normal childhood,” Izuku admits. It’s a regular occurrence for Katsuki to spend several evenings out of his week here, in the little apartment on campus where Izuku and Eri live, safe and secluded.
“It was out of your hands, Deku,” Katsuki says, and watches the way Izuku’s lips quirk up in a smile, like Katsuki’s just told a funny joke. It sets him on edge. Katsuki doesn’t like to be laughed at, but he figures if it’s Izuku, he’ll have to put up with it. “What do you think you’re smirking at?”
Izuku shrugs, even has his smile grows wider. “Nothing, it’s just… You’re really different, Kacchan, but you’re still you. You still call me Deku.”
Something like shame sits down heavy in Katsuki’s gut. “Fuck— I can stop, I—”
“No, no!” Izuku says, waving his hands frantically and grinning. “It’s fine, Kacchan, I promise!”
“You’re sure?” Katsuki finds himself asking, leaning forward in his seat.
“I’m sure.” Izuku ducks his head a little, his face pink. “I… like it. I’m glad that you don’t look at me differently.”
“I do though,” Katsuki says, eyes drifting to where Eri is bundled up on the couch watching a movie. Her eyes are wide and enraptured, caught on every word and every scene. “See you differently that is.”
“Oh,” and Katsuki doesn’t miss the soft disappointment in Izuku’s voice.
“You’re still you.” Katsuki can’t look at him as he says it. “You’re still Deku, but you’re not useless. You got dealt a shit hand, but you didn’t give up. You’re strong as hell, and you always have been. I didn’t see it as a kid, but I do now.”
Katsuki swallows. There’s a sharp smell to the air, blossoming up from where Izuku sits across from him at the little breakfast table, and it smells like grief, but like relief. And when he meets Izuku’s teary eyes, he feels his heart thud heavily in his chest. Slowly, cautiously, he slides his hands across the table and takes Izuku’s into his own.
“You took good care of the both of you,” he says gently, grasping Izuku’s fingers solidly. “You’re amazing, Deku.”
A shuddering breath escapes Izuku as he bows his head over their joined hands.
“U-Uhm, Kacchan?”
Katsuki sets his box of dishes down in the kitchen. The new apartment is spacious and bright, with dark hardwood floors and plenty of windows. There’s four bedrooms, one for each of them and a guest bedroom that will be taken up by Inko when she gets in next week. It had been a long process to choose it, Izuku unwilling to take advantage of Katsuki’s paycheck, and Katsuki unwilling to settle for anything less than perfect. But in the end, this is the place they chose, half-way between U.A. and Eri’s new kindergarten school.
It’s perfect to Katsuki who has spent years in lonely apartments, and then another in and out of U.A. while waiting, waiting for Izuku and Eri, before he even realized he was waiting.
Crouching until he’s eye-level, Katsuki tucks Eri’s hair away from her face. “What’s up, squirt?”
She graces him with a tiny smile. “Can… Can we still paint my room?”
“Of course,” Katsuki says, seriously. “Did you pick a color?”
Nodding, she holds out a little paint chip, the color a soft, light lavender. “Is this okay?”
“You bet,” Katsuki says, taking it from her. “You know, I have a friend that’s pretty good with painting. Why don’t I bring her around to see if she can paint some flowers on your walls. Whatever you like. How’s that sound?”
Eri’s eyes grow wide, sparkling. “Really?”
“Heck yeah, kid,” Katsuki says, smirking at the enthusiasm. He grunts in surprise when she hugs him tightly around his neck before immediately backing off. Despite everything, she’s still hesitant to touch people.
“Thank you, Kacchan,” she says quietly and Katsuki’s heart fills up until it’s overflowing.
The front door swings open, and Izuku slides through with another box of dishes. Eri immediately leaves Katsuki in the kitchen to go to Izuku’s side, talking quietly, but excitedly as Izuku sets the box down. Katsuki stands, watching them as Izuku heaves Eri up onto his hip, listening intently to her quiet voice.
He longs to insert himself there at their side, but he’s determined to be patient. He can’t afford to push, not while Eri is Izuku’s priority, and not while they’re both going to need time to settle into something like a normal life.
“Aizawa-chan said we could go to the aquarium next time,” Eri is saying, wiggling in Izuku’s hold.
“Oh really?” Izuku’s smile is pleased and indulging. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Mmhm,” Eri nods, burying her face against Izuku’s neck as she talks.
Katsuki watches. He can be patient, and let them come to him at their own pace.
So, when Izuku catches him looking, he surprises Katsuki by making his way over and inserting himself under Katsuki’s arm, Eri still chattering when Katsuki’s hand immediately comes up to her back, rubbing gentle circles into her shirt as Izuku presses them close. Her little hand reaches out and catches Katsuki's shirt in her fingers, holding on.
“Kacchan.”
Katsuki gasps awake, the smell hitting him like a fist and making his mouth water, his dick filling immediately before he even registers the warm body draped over him. His bedroom is completely dark, the night long since settled in and only a dim wash from the streetlights illuminates the gloom.
“Kacchan,” Izuku gasps, rutting against Katsuki’s pelvis and Katsuki moans, shaking the sleep away as Izuku mouths at his jaw. The smell of his heat hangs heavy in the air, sharp and tangy with its first showing. “Kacchan, need you,” he whines. Katsuki’s hands find their way to Izuku’s hips and that’s when he realizes that Izuku is completely naked.
“Fuck.” He flips them over, presses Izuku into the bed. “Fuck, Deku,” he moans and captures Izuku’s mouth, licking into that wet heat and swallowing Izuku’s whimpers when Katsuki grinds down on his dick.
Tugging harshly at Katsuki’s sleep shirt, Izuku near growls. “Off, get this off!”
He rips it over his head and plasters himself to Izuku, skin to skin, one hand in Izuku’s hair and the other snaking around to palm at his ass, squeezing until Izuku arches up into him, his heat-flushed body withering. Katsuki can smell the slick between Izuku’s thighs and his cock aches for it.
“Deku,” he moans, trying to control himself. They’ve danced around this one too many times in the few months they’ve lived together. Usually Katsuki finds himself in charge of Eri during Izuku’s heats, keeping himself distant to the too-delicious smell. But tonight Eri is staying the night with her friend from kindergarten, her first slumber party. Katsuki had dropped her off this morning along with a batch of cookies to share, attempting to distract himself from Izuku’s coming heat.
“Kacchan, please,” Izuku breathes, wrapping his legs around Katsuki’s waist. His dick slides wet and hot against the skin of Katsuki’s hip. “Please, please, please.”
“Deku,” Katsuki’s chokes, shuddering when Izuku’s nails bite into his shoulders. “You sure? Deku, baby, are you—”
Izuku practically howls, “Katsuki, fuck me!”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, and folds Izuku in half to dive between his thighs, mouthing sloppily at Izuku’s dick before diving down to bury his tongue in Izuku’s hole. Katsuki moans as Izuku arches his back, his mouth filling with the sweet, heady tang of Izuku’s slick. There are fingers twisting in his hair, tugging harshly as Izuku grinds up against his face.
All of his senses are completely filled with Izuku, Izuku, Izuku, his smell, his taste, his moans. Katsuki ruts against the bed, his cock painfully hard.
“Kacchan,” Izuku pants above him, and Katsuki looks up and moans. The omega’s eyes bore into him, searing him through to the bone, flushed from his freckled cheeks to his shoulders, tears slipping down his face. “So good for me, handsome, such a good alpha,” and Katsuki whimpers against Izuku’s hole, humping the bed, desperate for friction but unwilling to rise from where his face is buried against Izuku’s ass.
Izuku’s thighs squeeze around his head as he shudders, arching off the bed with a shuddering breath as he comes. Katsuki’s mouth fills with a fresh wave of slick, tongue lapping it up until Izuku’s sobbing and tugging Katsuki’s hair.
“Please, please, please,” Izuku chants, biting at Katsuki’s mouth, his orgasm only making him looser, his needy hands still grasping at Katsuki’s shoulders.
Hissing, Katsuki presses his dick along side Izuku’s, against the wet mess of Izuku’s thighs. “You want it, baby? Want my knot?”
“Yes, just—” and Izuku kicks him, rolling them across the bed until he’s on top and sliding onto Katsuki’s dick in one gut-punching movement.
“Fuck,” Katsuki growls, the feeling of that tight, wet heat enveloping him all at once. “Fuck, Deku, ah !”
Without missing a beat, Izuku lifts his hips and slides back down, bouncing on Katsuki’s cock without rhythm as he gasps for every breath that’s punched out of him. All Katsuki can do is dig his fingers into the round flesh of Izuku’s ass and hold on for dear life as Izuku fucks himself down on Katsuki's dick.
He’s the most beautiful thing Katsuki’s ever seen, his thin chest and trim waist taught as he moves, his dick bobbing between them as he moves, as he takes his pleasure from every inch he can get of Katsuki.
“Kacchan,” he gasps, his hips moving erratically and he comes again, thick and hot against Katsuki’s chest. He barely even pauses, tears slipping down his face. “Kacchan, please.”
“Please what?” Katsuki breathes, his face twisting up in a mean smirk. “What do you want Deku?”
“Fuck me, fuck me, give me your knot, your bite, alpha.”
Growling, Katsuki rolls them back over, pressing Izuku hard down on the mattress and fucking into him hard and fast. The sound of their bodies slapping together wetly are drowned out by Katsuki’s groaning and Izuku’s sobs, gasping below him, “Please, please, please, Kacchan.”
Katsuki can feel his knot growing at the base of his dick, and he almost sobs with pleasure as it catches against the rim of Izuku’s hole, and Izuku thrashes.
“Can I?” Katsuki aches all over, in his core, in his teeth. “Baby, can I, please?”
Izuku nods, baring his neck, and Katsuki clamps down on the tender flesh there. Distantly, he feels Izuku come a staggering third time, but his mouth is full of blood mixing with the taste of Izuku’s slick. With a moan, he thrusts in once more, until his knot is fully seated and he’s coming, fast and hard and deep into Izuku.
“Kacchan,” Izuku moans, and mouths against Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki shudders, tilting his head to the side, as good as any invitation and Izuku sobs, sinking his teeth into Katsuki in kind, and Katsuki could come all over again.
Sitting up and pulling Izuku with him, still seated on his engorged dick, Katsuki holds him close, kissing at his bite on Izuku’s scent gland. “Love you,” he murmurs, head swimming. “Love you, Izuku.”
Trembling, Izuku nuzzles against him, limp and pliant in Katsuki’s arms. “I love you, too, Kacchan.”