Chapter Text
Heavy combat boots thump on the agency hallway tiles in rhythm with Bakugou’s hurried steps as the hero makes his way to the elevator. With his backpack slung over one shoulder, a soft, frayed at the sleeves black hoodie thrown over the shirt of his hero suit, the blond cannot wait to get out of this building and get on the train.
He’s in a surprisingly good mood, given that his Friday shift ended early meaning he can retire back to his place and start an early prep on his dinner.
It’s become a habit of his as of lately; get home on the day before his rut is supposed to start, cook himself a hearty meal and store away the leftovers along with some other snack for the following days. It’s like a ritual now which Katsuki gets fastidious about, makes sure his body is taken care of and kept always at 100 percent.
Neglecting his needs won’t take him to the first place on the hero ranking, and that includes the needs he gets when he’s in rut. At the start of his career as a pro-hero, he used to take suppressants, insisting that a few days off every other month were going to make a pretty big dent in his progress in the future, and he couldn’t afford to lose any chance there was to surpass everyone else.
With time, and first hand experiences, he realized that pushing his body too much took a bigger toll on his physique and health than excusing himself for three days to jerk off and growl at the smallest shift in smells around his apartment.
At the agency front door, he feels a hard body shoulder-check him before a lanky arm wraps around his own. Katsuki sighs through his nose, not necessarily irritated, but he can’t let his guard down around these idiots too often, they’ll take advantage of him.
“Heey, Bakugou! Were you really about to go home without saying goodbye first?”
Kaminari whines out loud at his right, following him out through the door. On his left, Kirishima slings one arm over his shoulder and Bakugou feels it drop like a sack of potatoes. Damn shitty hair and his shitty massive body, he’s easily towering over Katsuki, despite both of them being Alphas, and over Kaminari’s leaner, Beta frame.
“Why didn’t you call to tell us you’re getting off early? We’ll walk home together, bro.”
Whilst feeling a little silly about it, Katsuki appreciates that these two dumbasses still sometimes act like they’re still in high school and just coming back from their afternoon classes. He needs this break from hero work, even if it sometimes comes with headaches from having to roll his eyes too much.
“Didn’t want you idiots bothering me, that’s why.”
They see right through him, as they’ve been doing since first year – or they just refuse to acknowledge his threats – as they continue clinging to him while the three heroes walk outside the hero agency and in the direction of the train station.
“I got the morning shift tomorrow, dude. Am I gonna see you there? We can get something to eat after.”
Kirishima starts up conversation as soon as they sit down on a bench. It’s surprisingly sparse for a Friday afternoon, so maybe they’re the only ones lucky enough to have finished work this early.
“Can’t. I have off until Tuesday.”
Katsuki quips with half a mouth, gaze focused on the calendar on his phone screen. He bumps elbows with Kaminari when he leans in to peek at his phone, not that he’s got anything to hide, but he’d rather not have his friend look at his rut meal schedule.
“Ah, I forgot. If you need any help you know who to call.”
The red head reminds him, like he always fucking does when he knows Katsuki’s about to go into rut. And by help he means running errands for him or bringing him scented clothes from their friends in case he needs them. Bakugou sometimes thinks Kirishima mistakes his rut for a heat, but he also can’t lie and say that the familiar scents of his friends haven’t always been completely useless.
Although, sometimes the scent of another Alpha will just throw off his mood and have him sink sharp fangs into his bed post or something.
“You’re letting Kiri help you out with your rut? Thought you were into Omegas, Kacchan!”
“Not like that, fucking dunce face!” Katsuki’s palm makes contact with Kaminari’s face, effectively shutting him up.
“Oh, no no. Bakugou vehemently refuses that sort of help, even if it’s from his best bro.” Kirishima confesses, making a show of jutting out his lower lip and eyeing Katsuki like he threw him outside in the rain to starve.
“Don’t fucking whine about it. It’s weird, m’not gonna ask one of you to come hold my hand while I pop my knot, Jesus fucking Christ.” Kaminari almost topples over in a fit of laughter while Kirishima’s muffled snorts rattle close to his ear.
It’s not like Katsuki’s never had partners before to help out with his rut. S’just that they never lasted, either because they weren’t compatible in the long run, or because they couldn’t put up with the consequences brought forth by dating a pro hero who’s in the top ten in the ranks.
And he does just fine by himself, he doesn’t need no one’s help to get off, doesn’t need a ‘wet Omega hole to keep his Alpha knot warm’, really he doesn’t. If that’s what he thinks about when he’s fucking into his fist while burnt-caramel smelling sweat drips down his forehead, it’s only because it does the trick. It sates that primal and possessive strike in his Alpha, calms his need to mate and claim and-
“Woah, are you okay? Your scent just spiked for a few seconds.”
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about us holding your hand while you jerk off, cause while you are a good looking Alpha, I’m into something else, Kacchan.”
“You guys are such a pain in the ass, I swear to god. M’fine, it’s just annoying and it makes me itch all over.”
His rut usually starts like that. Stifling hot like he’s in a fucking pressure cooker, his clothes turning from comfortable to too tight and scratchy. He can’t fucking wait to dump himself under a cold shower.
“Hmm, I think I have something that could help you.” Kirishima says out of nowhere, going to rummage through his own bag, pawing at all the side pockets until he pulls out a small business card.
“I got this on the last interview I did, you know the one where I talked about safety in co-ed schools for Omegas and Alphas? They gave me this, but I don’t think I’ll use it.”
Bakugou takes the small paper and thumbs it over to read the front; HeavenScent – We strive to bring pleasure to unmated Alphas and Omegas.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Oh I heard about them. They run tests on you and pair you up with someone who’s supposed to fit you, or something like that. Tokoyami told me about it, said he tried it once but wasn’t his thing.”
Katsuki thinks he might have passively heard about this company from somewhere, but he doesn’t know enough about them to just go in blind. His Alpha almost sputters out at the thought of being paired up with a random Omega after being looked over by a bunch of lab people who have nothing better to do than test on them.
“That’s to be expected, it’s not for everybody. But it might help you out, Bakugou.”
“M’not making any promises, shitty hair, but I’ll think about it.” Katsuki announces, getting up when his train arrives at the station. “You idiots better not bother me over the weekend!” He turns around to yell at them right before getting on, a sideways grins curving up his face.
“Okay, I’ll make sure to call!”
“See you next week, bro!”
Bakugou doesn’t even bother pretending to be annoyed.
_______________
It’s not like he’s desperate or anything, no matter how furiously he fucks his fleshlight during his rut, and no matter how empty he feels after coming his brains out all over the sheets while fisting his knot with both hands instead of inside his non-existent mate.
Surely, he’s not the only Alpha who gets like this during ruts. It’s literally their purpose, it comes with it, this sense of longing for a mate who’s warm and soft and strong in his bed instead of the cold pillow that Katsuki has to stare at while coming down from his last orgasm.
He’s not desperate for a mate, or a boyfriend or whatever you wanna call it. But, he’s curious. And his Alpha’s getting fucking annoying and needy, and he can’t say he hasn’t been feeling rather shitty after so many ruts spent alone with just the scent of a desperate Alpha trying to knot a toy.
That’s how Bakugou Katsuki ends up calling the damn agency Kirishima recommended to him. After hours of thorough research over a cup of hot tea, after reading dozens of reviews and experiences from people online, he decided to make a phone call. Just to see what this is all about.
“So it’s anonymous? Don’t gotta worry about extras finding out I’m applying for this, right?”
“Precisely, Mr. Dynamight. We here at HeavenScent make sure to prioritize the safety of our customers first and foremost and make sure we meet all their requests. We have multiple programs you can sign up for, but given your situation, I’d recommend the ‘Remote Partner’ plan.”
“As long as I don’t have to meet up with some stranger I’m good.”
He was open to hooking up with randos at bars in the past, but now he doesn’t have the energy to bring whoever back to his place and let them see him in such a vulnerable state. Especially now that he’s climbing up the ranks and he wouldn’t know who’s coming home with him purely for sexual purposes or because they know he’s Dynamight and might have ulterior reasons.
“Of course. To start this plan, we will need to run a few tests on you so we can pair you up with your best potential mate, in terms of scent and pheromones. But we can discuss more about it if you come to our main facility.”
He honestly has no idea what pushes him to schedule an appointment with the agency, but a few weeks after his call, he drives over to the main HeavenScent office to talk more about the program and what this “Remote Partner” plan entails.
It’s pretty straightforward from what he’s been told; the doctors there are going to test his pheromones along with other shit that’s specific to Alphas, then run it through a bunch of machines that are supposed to match his results with someone else’s data, in his case, with an Omega. And from what the doctors told him, it’s supposed to be his perfect mate.
Or as close as they’ll get, given that the facility has only so much data stored from the people who applied to their program.
With an irritated scent gland and his Alpha instincts going haywire from being exposed to stimuli all morning, Katsuki makes a detour on his way home. His head feels like a muddled mess, but he’s also craving something strong that’ll wake him out of this irritating drowsiness.
Heavy steps take him to the closest café, where he’s immediately hit with the bitter and rich scent of freshly brewed coffee. Barely having made it to the counter to order, a commotion is heard from outside, getting louder the closer it gets to the café. Camera flashes blind him when Katsuki turns his head to look outside. Behind the glass door he spots a crowd of people yelling.
He’s used to this scene from the many sightings of Dynamight on the streets, no matter if he’s off or on duty. Some fans really don’t have the sense of awareness other people do, ‘cause there’ll be some idiots who’ll try to jump him and get right in his face. If he didn’t care about the image that comes with him being a hero, he would have blasted those so called ‘fans’ right then and there.
“Long black coffee, no sugar. Thanks.”
The small bell hanging above the front door jingles as three men dressed in black enter, another person walking in between them.
Katsuki really tries to not stare, but he’d recognize that hair anywhere. Red and white split right in the middle, shaggy bangs coming right to the tops of blue-grey mismatched eyes. He’s taller than one of the men, the bodyguards now that Katsuki knows who it is, wearing a simple white tee with a baby blue open button up shirt thrown over. Earth toned slacks end with a pair of casual sneakers, and if he were anyone else who hadn’t been on the internet for the past 5 years, Katsuki would’ve thought this guy was just a college student.
“Oh my god, Shouto, look over here!”
“Shouto, please sign my album!”
“Shouto Todoroki, marry me!”
Solo idol Shouto Todoroki, who started his music career as soon as he dropped out of UA’s hero course after the war. His journey to becoming a hero had been halted by a pretty serious injury, leading to him pursuing a hobby he picked up while during his recovery.
They’d been in the same class, but were never close enough to warrant Bakugou to keep in contact with him. He remembers other classmates attempting to keep contact with Todoroki as often as they could, but the reality of their lives were too troublesome to even attempt to gloss over. So, parting ways had been the natural order of actions.
That didn’t mean Katsuki didn’t keep up with what Halfie’s been up to. He keeps tabs on most of his high school classmates, for hero rank climbing purposes of course, but also because Todoroki Shouto’s music never fucking misses.
One of the café employees sprints to the front door and talks to Shouto’s manager who seems to pop out of thin air, nodding their head profusely at whatever she says before shifting her attention to the door. Right, some places will do this – keep fans outside while whatever celebrity they’re hounding like a pack of wolves gets their order.
Katsuki’s still waiting for his coffee as half and half makes his way to the counter, where another employee materializes out of thin air to take his order.
“Hello. Just a caramel macchiato today. Thank you.”
He’s as polite as ever, the perfect “Ice Prince”, like the public refers him as. He’s way prettier than when Katsuki sees him on TV, or on those airport shots. Bakugou vaguely remembers how Todoroki used to look like in their first air, certainly uptight and quiet. On the surface, pretty much the opposite of how Katsuki acted in public. Maybe that’s also one of the reasons they didn’t get pretty close throughout the school year.
“Long black coffee, no sugar is ready!”
“Took you long enough.” He mutters to himself as he reaches forward onto the counter to grab his to-go cup, coming dangerously close to Shouto, who’s leaning on the edge of it.
Katsuki smells it immediately. The scent of freshly cut flowers, something fresh like a cold river in winter, with the faintest hint of taffy sweetness. It’s not like he’s a creep alright, the guy’s standing right there and his scent is so fucking- so intense and, inviting, that it makes Katsuki’s Alpha this close to fucking reeling.
Giving Todoroki a subtle onceover, Katsuki spots the professionally disguised scent patch stuck to the column of his neck, right under soft red strands of hair. He grabs the coffee before the Omega can sense him sniffing his scent.
“And a caramel macchiato.” Shouto reaches for his own drink, one hand digging into his back pocket presumably to take out his wallet, only to come up empty handed.
“Oh, sorry, I must have left it in the car. Please wait, I’ll ask my manager to cover it.”
The barista looks like she wants to argue, the words ‘it’s on the house’ practically on the tip of her tongue, Katsuki can already tell – he’s had many similar encounters, workers offering him free stuff, and while he appreciates their generosity, he’s certain that with his current ranking he makes more than some of the people who offer to cover for his food. And he really doesn’t like owing people favors, nor money.
Instead of walking out, like he should have done as soon as he got his coffee, Katsuki lingers around just in time to watch as Shouto’s manager is too busy making phone calls to hear him calling for her from the counter. It’s none of his business, s’not like there’s a villain on the loose. He has the whole afternoon off even. Fuck it, he thinks as he reaches into his pocket and takes out the amount he thinks Todoroki’s order is in bills.
“Here, next time make sure you don’t forget your pretty head along with your wallet.”
His words prompt the man to turn and look at him, mismatched eyes widening in what looks to be recognition. Katsuki did say that they didn’t keep in touch, that didn’t mean they didn’t know who the other is.
“Dynamight, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. You really don’t have to, my manager-“
“Is too busy to pay for your sugary crap. Don’t worry about it.”
Shouto goes tight-lipped at that, thanking the barista once again before bowing politely in Katsuki’s direction. Katsuki wants to tell him there’s no need for all that, but he can’t lie and say that it doesn’t do something to him to see the “Ice Prince” idol bowing his pretty head at him.
He bites at the inside of his cheek in hopes of getting his train of thoughts in line. With how much those doctors fucked around with his Alpha pheromones and bugged his scent gland until it spewed out all the oils he had in him, Katsuki’s feeling a little restless. Even more so in front of a pretty Omega.
“I’ll pay you back, just let me go back to my car…”
Shouto’s words die down once he glances out through the glass door. There’s a fucking barricade of people waiting outside, and both he and Katsuki know that there’ll be no room for Shouto to pay him back. Especially not without it looking fucking strange if anyone takes a picture of the two of them together. Bakugou’s had enough dating rumors in his career as a pro, and certainly doesn’t want to stoke the fire to a new one.
Shouto turns back to him, doe eyes watching him with a gentle hope in them. “Let me know if there’s something you’d want in return. Or I can ask my manager to transfer you the money later today, if you’d prefer.”
Seriously, half and half is worrying too much about a 300 yen coffee. But, maybe there’s something Katsuki might want in return. He never had time to go to one of those fansigns, and there’s no one here who could recognize him and make fun of him for it – at least there’s no Kaminari or Kirishima – so Katsuki takes out his phone and slips a photocard out of the back of his phonecase.
“Sign this, and I’ll let this slide.” He can’t help the small grin climbing up the corners of his mouth when Shouto’s mouth turns into an O shaped silent gasp.
“I didn’t know you were a fan.”
Todoroki takes the photocard, protected in a thick plastic top loader, slipping it out enough to sign the back.
“What, I don’t look like your target demographic?”
Katsuki shoots back, trying to not show the carefulness with which he takes the photocard back – it’s one of the rare Shouto photocards, not like he keeps track or anything, the one with the white fluffy cat he’s holding up to his face to press his cheek against the cat’s fluffy fur, a genuine smile painted on his pretty boy face – and puts it back into his phonecase for safekeeping.
Shouto gives him an up and down look, scratches at his chin with one hand like he’s really thinking about it, and with the way his smile turns into a smirk, Katsuki kind of wants to punch him for being a smug prick.
Memories of him going back and forth with the half and half bastard in their first year resurface at the back of his mind, and something in Katsuki thrums at the thought that Todoroki didn’t change that much over the years.
“Certainly not the one my PR team had in mind. How have you been doing? I haven’t seen you in…a while.”
Shouto changes subject quickly, both hands clasped around the coffee cup, eyes flicking every now and then to his manager. He must not have much time to waste with how frantic he looks under the calm expression.
“I’m doing good, kicking villain ass, very close to kicking off your old man’s ass out of the top 5.”
Shouto laughs at that, all bubbly and silent, like he’s not used to laughing out loud. Making fun of his cringey old man has always been a surefire to get the kicks out of Todoroki. “Real talk, when the fuck is he retiring? S’like he’s clawing onto his spot in the ranks, damn.”
Half and half has to stifle his giggles behind one hand, trying and failing to scold Bakugou for making fun of the former number one hero.
“He never knows when to quit. Just like someone else I know.” Shouto eyes him suggestively, voice turning softer at the end of the sentence, a stark comparison to when he referred to his father.
“You know me, I never do things half-assed, half and half.” The nickname slips out, along with the surprise on Shouto’s face.
“Oh, you haven’t called me that since first year.” A soft smile settles on his face. “We should catch up sometimes, I’m really dying to know what pro-hero Dynamight has been up to lately.”
The invitation catches Katsuki off-guard. For so long, Shouto could have just texted him on his social media if he wanted to hang out, and now after years of not talking to each other he’s so eager to meet up. It’s not like Bakugou has something against him, heck, he’s been carrying half and half’s photocard in his phonecase for months now, it’s just, too sudden.
“Don’t look so eager, I’ll have to see if I can fit you into my schedule, halfie.”
“I’ll wait then.” His manager calls for him shortly after, “Thank you again, and hopefully I’ll see you soon?”
“See ya, halfie.”
Flowers and peppermint lingers behind as Shouto exits the coffee shops, leaving Katsuki standing like an idiot at the counter. His scent gland itches again, reminding Bakugou that he’d been eager to get home before he ran into half and half. All day, his phone smells like winter and toffee.
______________
“The results of your test came in, so we’re sending you a selection of scent samples for you to try out. Please get back to us after you’ve made your choice.”
Is what he’s told on the phone when Katsuki calls the company to ask why there’s a very strong smelling package at his door. Inside he finds three sample size perfume vials, all with number stickers stuck around the tube. A sheet of paper contains more information about each sample, but Katsuki decides to dive straight into it.
The smell of the first vial smacks him right in the face like he’s been choked with cotton candy. It’s a very intense and sweet scent, no doubt the poster scent for Omegas in heat. Everyone keeps talking about how Omegas should have sweet scents ‘if they want to attract an Alpha’, which Katsuki thinks it’s bullshit, because no matter if you’re an Alpha, Omega, Beta or whatever the hell, not everyone’s gonna bend themselves backwards for a pile of sugar.
He certainly isn’t, because he caps the stopper back onto the vial and stores it right back into the box.
The second tube has a deep herbal scent, almost medicinal. It reminds Katsuki of cough syrup, which might translate differently if he were in rut, or if he were to smell it directly from the Omega this scent belongs to. But this isn’t doing it for him either. He’s sure this might do it for someone, he’s just not that someone.
The third and last vial doesn’t give him too much hope, at least until he plucks open the stopper.
The scent courses straight through his veins as soon as he inhales it, ringing like an alarm in his brain and waking up his previously discouraged Alpha. It’s minty, almost like those white and red swirled hard candies he used to chew on in high school while studying for exams. It’s warm, like hot chocolate with marshmallows toasted on an open fire.
And it’s getting him hard like nothing else, fuck. His Alpha stirs inside him, fangs aching as drool pools in his mouth.
What the fuck is this scent and why does it smell so fucking good?
He settles one palm right over his crotch and presses down firmly, he’s not about to blow his load over this. Not over the fact that he’s smelling an Omega’s scent from a vial. But it smells really fucking good, so Katsuki allows himself to drip some of the scent over the neckline of his hoodie. Just to satiate his Alpha, he tells himself.
Before he can forget all about it, he tosses the two other vials into the box and closes it, keeping the third tube in the pocket of his hoodie and sends a text with the vial number to the agency worker.
“That is great news, I am glad we managed to find a scent which appeases to you, Mr. Bakugou. Now we only need your permission to go forward with the Remote Partner program.”
Right, he was told all the available options for this program and what ‘items’ he could send to his partner and what he could receive in return. Deciding to start off on the down low, Katsuki picked ‘Scented Clothing Article’ as the first item. It’s something he’s familiar with and something he wouldn’t mind receiving from the Omega he was assigned to.
He takes another lungful of the heavenly scent. Certainly wouldn’t mind, not when it smells like this.
_____________
They are supposed to time the clothing sharing with their heat and rut cycles so the scent won’t wear off and also send the article of clothing back when the smell wears off so their assigned partner can scent it again and re-send it. Makes sense to Katsuki, that way they won’t have to send in new clothes every damn time, and they’ll cycle through about 3 full outfits.
The first thing he sends is one of his older hoodies, one he doesn’t wear as often and wouldn’t mind ‘lending’ to someone else. He wore it a lot during his last year of high school, the faded skull print a testament to how much use he got out of it, but along with his debut as a pro hero came the major changes in his physique. It didn’t fit him anymore, at least not in a way that he could move around comfortably in it.
To scent it, Bakugou sits himself on the bed and starts massaging at his scent gland, getting the oils to dribble out and slick all over the front of the hoodie. It works better when he thinks about something that’s worth releasing Alpha pheromones over, or someone.
He tries to imagine how his Remote Omega Partner might look like, but he quickly shakes that off, not wanting to paint a picture that might never get the chance to be hung up or that might not live up to his expectations if they ever meet up. The images in his head shift quickly to another Omega who’s been at the top of Katsuki’s rut jerk off material list for a while now.
It’s not like he’s proud of it, but half and half’s a real’ fucking pretty Omega who Katsuki wouldn’t mind having under him, or above him, during his rut. And even outside his rut. He’s a little hopeless when it comes to Todoroki Shouto, not just because he’ been a fan of his music and work in general, but because even after all these years there’s still something that won’t allow Bakugou to just let go.
And the pretty picture of Shouto in his head, how he’d look like sprawled over in Katsuki’s bed with his legs parted open, perfect for him to kneel in between, how he’d sound like when Katsuki’s thrusting so deep inside him that all he knows is how to moan out Katsuki’s name, always gets him to pop his knot.
Using the image of Shouto, curled up in this very hoodie that he’s scenting for his assigned Omega partner, gets his scent glands working, gets his Alpha to howl satisfied at the back of his mind and his boxers to chub up at the front.
His stupid Omega partner better fucking appreciate the effort he put into scenting this damn thing. Katsuki doesn’t think he’s ever released so much oil in one go before.
He hears again from his assigned partner when his rut is due, through the small package delivered to his apartment as soon as he gets back from work. Katsuki gets stupidly giddy over it, mostly driven by the memory of his assigned Omega’s scent, whose vial he still has, half empty now – every time he smells the oil he gets hard, like a pit of lava is released into his gut – and swiftly locks the door behind him, already half tearing into the box.
A light blue sweater is what he pulls out of the airtight sealed bag, incredibly soft to the touch, like it’s made out of pure cloud fluff, and it absolutely blooms with that delectable peppermint and toffee scent.
Katsuki lifts it up to his nose, feeling his eyes close as if on instinct, rolling up into his skull the moment his nose hits the collar of the shirt. There’s deeper notes of cherry blossoms, something almost like the strawberry jam his grandma prepares for the winter, but hot, like it was just taken out of the pot, still boiling hot and the general smell of fresh, crisp air.
It’s more than he could smell directly from the vial, but he thinks with a canvas like this one, the sweater, it’s easier to pick out certain scent notes than if you were to stick your nose directly into it. Although, that’s been proven to be quite fruitful for Bakugou too.
He isn’t supposed to start his rut for another half a day at least, his best bet had been the following morning, but Katsuki can already feel the back of his neck burning up, chest heaving with the need to take in as much as he can of this scent.
It’s fucking insane, how addicted he is to this scent. It gets his body to move without his will, clothes coming off like he’s remote controlled, shedding a trail all the way to his bedroom. Katsuki feels his rut raising up to the surface, bubbling up to his lungs like it’s filling him up with the coiling heat in his stomach.
The scent triggers his rut, because of course it does, but at least Katsuki doesn’t have to worry about it dragging out for longer than necessary. He’s already at his second orgasm, sweater draped over his sweaty chest, fist drowning in thick cum, his spent gliding along with his hand on the length of his cock.
Sure, it doesn’t feel as nice as it would if he actually had a pretty Omega perched on his chest taking his cock like a good boy – a good and very pretty boy – but the potency of the scent makes up for the absence of a physical mate pretty well. It mingles with his own scent, burnt salted caramel, ash and pure musk, and it’s the best thing Katsuki’s ever smelled.
The moment he opens his mouth to bite at the fabric of the sweater his whole body shivers, a possessive growl leaving him as the taste of the scent hits the back of his tongue. It coats the inside of his mouth like silky honey. He thinks to himself where has this scent been all his life, where has this Omega he’s been assigned to been all this time.
But his assigned partner could very well be incompatible with him with the exception of their scents. And this is all Katsuki agreed to, he’s not about to meet the guy anytime soon. Most likely never at all.
This works for him, works pretty fucking well, with how his cock is spewing out globs of precum, twitching wildly, knot inflating to the size of his fucking fist, this close to popping. Fuck how he’d love to have a pretty Omega hole drooling slick all over his cock, feel it stretch over his knot and lock around it when it pops.
Katsuki’s getting fucking scent drunk, and he thought that was possible just for Omegas. The way he fucks into his fist like a crazed man tells him otherwise.
He writhes around in his bed, driven by the pure instinct to breed and claim and knot a wet and warm Omega hole, and when he comes his body coils into itself, sweater pulled tight against his nostrils, fabric close to tearing where he’s biting at it with his fangs. His hips thrust forward, fist pumping up and down his cock, while his other hand clasps around his knot under the poor attempt at mimicking the feeling of knotting an Omega.
Katsuki lays in bed, spent and covered in sweat and cum, lingers of his scent and sweet peppermint clinging to his body. He feels real’ fucking good, better than when he would spend his rut with nothing but his own scent to inhale, nothing to anchor him to the real world, but the crick in his hand from how long he’s been tugging at himself.
His head gets a little cleared up the more he stares at his ceiling, breathing in the fresh air flowing into his bedroom through the half-opened window. Katsuki can already feel himself getting addicted to this scent, thinks he already is, with how fast his heart is racing.
This might not be good for him in the long run. He knows how he gets with the things he likes, he gets possessive over them, aggressive, he wants them all to himself, no matter what it is. In the real world, he’s managed to work around certain things, but this one…he’s not sure how this whole thing is going to unfold.
For the time being, Katsuki reaches into his nightstand shelf and pulls out the scent vial. He rubs some of the oil into his palms and dribbles a few drops of it right over his half hard cock. The intense scent gets him hard as soon as his brain registers it, his Alpha hungry for it, ravenous to claim his Omega.
If only his Omega were here for Katsuki to claim, to take care of and show how good of an Alpha he can be, even when his brain is rut muddled and he’s drunk on his mate’s pheromones.
_____________
“Bro, looking good! You don’t look as grumpy as you usually do after your ‘break’. Finally found someone?” Kirishima greets him as soon as he steps into the shared office space of the agency, holding a weirdly red colored sports drink in hand.
Bakugou shoves him amicably, rolling his eyes at his friend’s prodding. When did he become so invested in what Katsuki does during his rut?
“You would’ve known if I had found someone, I don’t gotta sneak around you, Kiri.”
His best friend looks visibly touched at the admission, as if they didn’t have this talk a long time ago, when Kirishima thought Katsuki might start spending less time with him if he were to get in a relationship.
“Aww, I’m happy you’d bring them to meet me, but seriously, you look sort of…” Kirishima makes a series of flashy gestures with his free hand at the level of Bakugou’s face “…glowy, if ya know what I mean.”
Katsuki does feel glowy, in a sense. He feels better than he usually does after spending 3 to 4 days cooped up in his apartment, snarling at nothing and ripping through his bedsheets. And he definitely knows what caused his good mood this time around.
“D’you remember that stupid agency you told me about?”
Kirishima’s eyebrows shoot up. “So you talked to them? Is this why you don’t look like you’re ready to murder the first villain you lay eyes on?”
Katsuki side-eyes his friend, all while walking to the small break room to brew his second coffee of the day. “Will you cut it out? I’m not that fucking angry after my rut.”
“Tell that to the intern’s new desk.” Kirishima avoids eye contact when he mumbles the words, hiding the lower half of his face behind the plastic lid of his cup.
Okay so, there might have been an incident which led to Katsuki blasting one of the desks in the office, turning the damn thing into splinters, but he swears he didn’t even put that much force behind his explosion.
“Whatever. They ran a bunch of tests on me and allegedly found my ‘perfect partner’ or some shit like that.”
He explains while waiting for his coffee to brew, fishing for his phone to show Kirishima one of the spreadsheets containing the general procedure for testing Alphas and Omegas. It’s public information on their website anyway, and it doesn’t contain anything about the Omega he was partnered up with, so Katsuki thinks it’s alright to show this to his friend.
“So…how does this work?”
“For now, we’re sending each other scented clothes. There’s other things you can do, even meet up in person if ya pick that, but for what I signed up for it’s just this, I think.”
The coffee machine beeps, signaling the end of the brewing process. Katsuki reaches with one gloved hand to grab the cup, bringing it up to his mouth to blow on the steam. “It’s the ‘Remote Partner’ plan.”
He adds, since there’s a debriefing of each plan on the document Kirishima’s currently reading.
“And it worked? Really? That sounds neat, although it’s pretty similar to what you were doing before.”
Kirishima refers back to when Katsuki would borrow clothes from his group of idiots for his ruts, the familiar scents soothing his Alpha instincts. It worked for a while, when he was younger, but now his Alpha is getting a little too desperate for a mate, and now that Katsuki had a taste of his assigned Omega’s scent, he doesn’t know if he could go back to a different scent, or not having one at all.
“It’s...,” Katsuki licks his lips, suddenly feeling a little nervous. Like he’s telling Kirishima about his first crush.
He feels a little stupid now that he thinks about it, it’s just a scented sweater, s’not like he’s getting engaged or something. “Let’s say the people running the program know what they’re doing. ‘s a little insane, how they found a scent that…that I don’t entirely hate.”
Kirishima eyes him closely, still holding onto his phone.
“I know that look. You don’t gotta hide it from me, bro. It sounds like they really found you a good partner. I’m happy for you.”
Katsuki shoves him lightly on his side. “You sound like the old hag, shut up. S’not that deep, they just send me clothes and I jerk off to their scent.”
Hurried steps echo down the hallway and into the small break room. A body collides with Kirishima’s from the back.
“What’s this we’re talking about? Did Kacchan finally found himself a pretty Omega?”
Kaminari’s buzzing with energy for some goddam reason, clinging himself to Kirishima’s back. In the commotion, he accidently jams the latter’s arm and Katsuki’s phone goes flying, knocking into one of the corner tables. It lands on the floor with the phone case halfway off, all the metro cards shoved in there spilling out.
Along with the photocard.
“Shit, sorry, bro, my hand slipped!” Kirishima’s leaning down to grab his phone at the same time Katsuki does.
“Watch where you’re landing, dunce face.” Bakugou scolds him, but there’s no real heat behind it. His phone suffered greater landings on field.
“Sorry sorry! Let me help- wait, who’s that?”
Kaminari reaches to pluck the photocard off the floor, yellow eyes flying wide when he recognizes the person in the photo.
“Is this Shouto?! As in Shouto Todoroki?”
Kirishima’s head jerks to the side, mouth slack.
“Bro, you have a photocard of Shouto Todoroki in your phonecase?”
“And it’s signed on the back! No freaking way!”
Katsuki feels his good mood slipping away bit by bit, anger simmering high in his chest. It’s not like he’s mad that these two idiots found out, but it’s not like this was something he was going to tell them about. It’s just, Shouto’s music has been one of his secret guilty pleasures over the years, and Katsuki never really thought to share it with someone else before.
“Oi, don’t put your grubby hands on it, spark plug! Gimme that.”
Katsuki snatches the photocard out of his hand, gathering his phone and the rest of his things and stuffing them in between the back of his phone and the inside of the phone case. He’s not embarrassed, he isn’t! But he feels the back of his neck burning up and a weird and uncomfortable churning in his gut.
“Don’t be like that, bro, we were just surprised.”
“Yeah, his music is great. We just didn’t know you were into it.”
Katsuki huffs a breath, then downs his coffee in one gulp. It scorches his throat, but the burn doesn’t compare to how his body feels right now. Why the hell is he reacting like this?
“Whatever.”
“I think it’s cute.” Kaminari blurts out, as if he didn’t already make the situation worse than it was before. “I never thought Bakugou would be the kind of guy who carries photos around like that. D’you think he’d carry a picture of his boyfriend in his wallet?”
“I’m right here, dunce face.”
“I’m just saying!”
“Do you guys keep in touch?” The question takes Katsuki off guard. Kirishima’s looking at him with a sort of dumb hope in his gaze, the way his mother used to look at him when kindergarten age Katsuki would tell her he made new friends.
“No, we don’t. I ran into him at a coffee shop like a month ago or something. Bastard looks the same as he did back in high school.”
“Ah, so unfairly pretty?” Kaminari snickers behind his hand, seemingly having decided that he stopped fearing for his life.
“Stupidly annoying.” Katsuki rolls his eyes.
“Mhm, if I remember correctly, you used to call him ‘annoying pretty boy’ all the time during our first year. And some time after he transferred schools whenever someone brought him up.” Kirishima jumps in, reminding Katsuki that he can be just as irritating as Kaminari.
Katsuki’s palms spark with controlled small explosions.
“Get back to work before I blast off those dumb grins off your faces!”
Kirishima and Kaminari pointedly do not fuck off and continue to follow Katsuki all over the agency office until they’re called for an intervention. He can’t get the thought of Shouto’s photocard sitting snugly in his phonecase.
______________
His next rut goes pretty much the same as his first one with the scented clothing from his assigned Omega, although this time he’s sniffing the front of a white soft t-shirt, his other arm tangled around a pair of equally sweet and minty smelling grey sweatpants.
After the ‘trial stage’, both Katsuki and his remote partner had been informed that they can make requests for what they want to receive from one another. They can also send short messages either through an agency provided email address or in the form of a letter along with the package.
Katsuki thinks this is a more fucked up version of Tinder, but his assigned partner doesn’t seem to shy away from communication, given the letter he finds in the second package he gets from the Omega.
“Hello.
I have thoroughly enjoyed your package, your scent helped me out with my heat. Nothing else has helped me out before as much as your scent did. My heat wasn’t as painful as it used to be. I hope the scented sweater I sent you was of some use to you as well. I want to believe it was, since we got partnered up.
This is your Remote Omega Partner, by the way, but you probably already know that. I can’t give out my name, but the assistant I talked to told me I could use a nickname to sign the letter if I wanted to.
From your Remote Partner, Frost”
The letter almost sounds like it was written by a robot, but there’s no way a robot could sound so awkward even through a letter. Katsuki finds it a little endearing, if he’s being completely honest. Frost, huh, he thinks to himself as he reads through the letter. It does help a little, to put some sort of name to his remote partner.
They’re not supposed to give out personal information about each other, since they signed the full anonymity contract of the program, but they know general stuff like age – which Katsuki is weirdly grateful for, since Frost is only one year younger than him, he’d feel strange getting off to an Omega’s scent with whom he had a drastic age difference – height and weight – something he wasn’t really interested in, but thinks other people might care for those aspects.
Something he didn’t think was necessary, but Frost still included, were his “Likes”. As if he was making a dating profile or some shit. It was a small list containing “Home cooked food, cold noodles, cats and music”. It got a snort out of Katsuki. The things on the list were pretty basic, really, who didn’t like good food, animals and music? But it did serve to put a more human image to his assigned Omega, taking away from the whole dystopian lab assigned partners and the whole scent oil collected in glass tubes.
For his next package, Katsuki doesn’t send a letter and doesn’t ask for anything in particular. What he’s been sent so far has been more than enough to satiate his hungry Alpha, although he’s been running out of the scent oil vial.
What he does send to Frost are two scented shirts – one that he rubbed all over his scent glands and the other one he wore on his morning jog. His musk is most potent after he sweats up a storm then plays a little it with the scent glands at his neck. He bought them from a clearance store, since giving away clothes from his own closet didn’t seem practical in the long run. He packs Frost’s hoodie along with the shirts, as the scent has long faded.
At the last minute, he rummages through one of his shelves where he knows he has a bunch of dumb stickers from Mina, and plasters a cat sticker on the front of the bag containing his scented shirts.
There, that should make up for his lack of letter. Not that he really has anything to say to Frost, they’re here solely for the ‘scented clothing transaction’ not to act buddy-buddy with each other. One of the assistants Katsuki talked to told him about clients who get too attached to their assigned partners and were forced to terminate the contract, thus ending the program, since, in most cases, the eagerness to meet up in person came from one side only.
This is solely to help with his rut. He’ll end the program when he feels like he doesn’t need it anymore, or better yet, when he finds a real partner. Katsuki feels a little more hopeless regarding the latter option, no matter how confident he is in himself.
It’s not really his fault that Frost’s scent smells this fucking good. He’s not sure he’ll find someone else who’ll smell this delightful to him.
Katsuki doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
___________
On the last morning of his rut, Katsuki wakes up to a text message from an unknown number.
Unknown number: Hello. I got your number from Midoriya. I hope you don’t mind, he said you are on friendly terms, but I know you always used to claim the opposite.
I apologize for taking so long to reach back, my schedule was packed with rehearsing for my new songs. This week I’ll have time to hang out, let me know when you are free if you still want to meet up.
This is Shouto Todoroki, by the way.
What a fucking dork, Katsuki thinks as he thumbs through the texts. He genuinely forgot about agreeing to catch up with half and half, chalking it up to his stupid brain making shit up. But Todoroki sounds serious about hanging out, if he went out of his way to get a hold of Katsuki’s personal number instead of reaching out to him on social media or something.
Me: you still talk to Deku? And you didn’t bother reaching out to me all this time? I’m fucking offended, half and half
Yeah, I’m still up for it, half and half. I’ve got all day Wednesday, and the weekend.
D’you want me to pick a spot or do you have something in mind?
Either works for me.
Halfie: I’m happy to hear that. I know a place where we can have more privacy, in case you don’t want the public to bother us.
Midoriya calls me once a month to check up on me, and I thought he might have your number.
Maybe I should have asked you for it when we met at the café.
I’ll send you the address and we can meet up Wednesday morning, is that alright?
Me: Works for me.
See you then, halfie.
Halfie: Have a good day, Bakugou!
Kick some villain ass!
That’s, that’s actually a little cute. Katsuki groans into his pillow when he reads the text over and over in his head. The phrase he uses almost every time during interviews when reporters ask for ‘a few words, Dynamight!’ and he brags about ‘kicking villain ass’.
Maybe he’s not the only fan between the two of them.
Despite initially forgetting about the meet up with Shouto, this time Katsuki cannot get it out of his head. He’s constantly thinking about it whenever he’s on break or late at night when even the cooking show running on TV can’t distract him anymore.
This isn’t a date, he keeps repeating to himself.
He’s just going out with the guy whose music he’s been listening to the past handful of years, whose photo he has in his phonecase, and whose albums he has stashed discreetly in between the few books he collected over the years and displayed out on his bedroom shelf, along with the old All Might mangas.
That doesn’t serve to cut off the edge, so he puts it differently. He’s only going out to catch up with an old high school classmate. Katsuki’s meeting up with the quiet and awkward kid who had one of the most powerful quirks he’s ever seen, the same kid who was busy brooding over his asshole of a father for the first few months of their first year at UA.
The same kid who turned from quiet to an annoying chatterbox during their remedial classes, who would tell Katsuki about all the cat videos he found on the internet late at night when he couldn’t sleep. The same half and half bastard who would laugh in the high collar of his hero suit whenever Katsuki’d insult his cringey old man during their internship at Endeavor’s agency.
The same Shouto Todoroki whose body got so fucked up during the war that he was deemed ‘unfit’ to continue attending UA, or he had to resort to a significantly downgraded version of the hero course.
At the time, a 16 year old Katsuki didn’t have the time to think about how that might have affected Shouto. To have the option of becoming a hero snatched away from him just like that. Although, from what he knows, it had always been his old man’s dream for Shouto to become the number one hero and surpass All Might, like the obsessed freak he was.
But it must have taken such a toll on the Shouto who finally seemed like he found his path. Finally started paving his own path towards becoming a hero ‘who reassures people’, and not one who exists just to surpass others or to ‘prove’ something to the world.
Katsuki’s proud of him for finding a new path for himself through music. Though, there’s times when he thinks how different his life would have been if Shouto became a hero. If his quirk hadn’t become such a danger to his own body.
It’s no use to think about the ‘what ifs’, not when everything’s already done. Shouto looks happy with his choice, and he even made a name for himself. Even if, in the beginning, a lot of the attention came from him being Endeavor’s son who failed at becoming a hero.
And it’s the same Shouto Todoroki, the infuriatingly pretty bastard he ran into at the café, who waits for him in a secluded booth at the back of a noodle restaurant.
They move past unnecessary polite and stiff pleasentries pretty fast, Katsuki’s not going to let this hang out turn into an awkward fest, they’re two grown adults for fuck’s sake. They wait to order a few drinks and a bowl of noodles each – cold for Shouto, because the bland idiot never grew an actual palette when it comes to food, and extra spicy for Katsuki – to get into casual conversation.
“How’s hero work been? I mean, I see you on the news when I have some time to myself, but I’m sure a lot of what’s shown in the media is molded to fit what they want to show to the public.”
Shouto starts, before reaching out to grab a small dish with soy sauce to dip his noodles into. There’s a certain practiced finesse to his movements, with the way he holds the bowl just below his mouth and slurps the cold noodles quiet enough to not be jarring to the ear. His shoulders are squared, but he’s not uncomfortably stiff.
“Same shit every other day. Kick some villain ass, hand them over to the police, then fill in long ass reports and repeat it all over again the next day.”
Katsuki vaguely wonders how he looks when he’s fully relaxed. When he isn’t putting up this practiced façade in case anyone snaps a photo of them. He knows they’re both aware of how careful they have to be with their public image given their careers, although Katsuki doesn’t care as much to come off as ‘family friendly’ to the public.
“It doesn’t sound as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.” Shouto declares with a light chuckle, voice tinted in amusement.
In comparison, he knows Shouto’s kept a highly positive image for himself throughout his musical career. Not that there was anything this guy could do to make the public turn their back on him, he’s regarded to as ‘Japan’s Ice Prince’ for god’s sake.
“It’s fucking exciting all right. Nothing beats the exhilarating feeling of coming out on top after beating up a villain and saving the day. Or the feeling of accomplishment when you finally figure out that one move you’ve worked your ass off for. There’s backlash, but you’re gonna find that anywhere you go, but it’s also nice to hear people fuckin’ yelling your name and get tackled by brats on the street asking for your autograph. You know, the whole ‘win to save, save to win’ and all that.”
It’s not like he came here to brag about how good he has it. He does have it good, if he refers to his hero life. Not that the other half of his life isn’t good, he’s got the idiot brigade to hang out with when he doesn’t feel like being alone at home and he visits his parents pretty often for dinner.
But it’s been a while since he’s last gone out to meet someone new. A significant amount of time has passed since he last interrupted his carefully crafted routine.
“Midoriya says that too.”
“Course he fucking does. Nerd’s still a fucking blabbermouth to this day.”
“Are you two close? He mentions you a lot when we talk, but I know he’s not here in Tokyo…”
“Nah, not really. After the little shit fucked off to America we didn’t keep in touch as much. S’not like we need to be attached at the fucking hip. It’s better this way, it would have driven me crazy if we kept doing the same thing over and over again.”
“Ah, I agree. That way you can improve in your own separate ways. I understand.”
A slight tense silence settles over their table as they each finish their food.
“Have you kept in touch with anyone else from UA?” Shouto asks again, seemingly very invested in talking about their old classmates. Or maybe he doesn’t know what else to ask Katsuki about, after all, it’s not like they have much in common. As far as he knows.
“I work at the same agency as shitty hair and spark plug.”
Half and half’s eyebrows furrow in thought, most likely trying to figure out who Katsuki is referring to. His frown quickly dissolves into one of recognition, a small noise leaving him.
“Ah, Kirishima and Kaminari. They’re doing pretty well from what I can tell. They’re just as flashy as they were at UA.”
Flashy is certainly one word to describe them. More like a pain in the ass, but they’ve put up with Katsuki’s bullshit for long enough that he doesn’t feel the need to deny the closeness of their friendship.
“They’re taking years off my life, but they’re good at what they do.”
Shouto laughs softly at his words, continuously hiding his smile behind the sleeve of his blue sweater. It clashes with the red in his hair, but it causes the cerulean of his left eye to shine brighter under the warm light of the restaurant.
And like, Katsuki has fucking eyes, okay? Shouto’s fucking gorgeous, and Katsuki knows he would have, attempted something if they kept contact. If their time together wasn’t severed so early by the war aftermath. He could have made an effort to keep in touch with half and half, could have made the effort to reach out to him when he was plucked away from the people he grew comfortable around with, the first real friends he’s had in his miserable first 15 years of life.
“I’m sorry for not reaching out to you earlier.”
“Huh?” Katsuki think this is about Shouto taking so long to ask him to hang out, and he’s about to tell him that it’s no fucking problem, when half and half cuts him off. “You said you were busy, don’t fucking worry about it-“
“No, not that. Before. You called me out for having the time to talk to Midoriya but I never bothered to reach out to you.”
“I was just making fun of you, half and half. M’not fucking jealous over you talking to Deku.”
Shouto doesn’t seem to get it, because he shuffles forward in his seat and looks straight into Katsuki’s eyes, looking more determined than ever.
“I wanted to, you know. Call you, or text you. Because we were friends. But I didn’t know, I didn’t know if you wanted to keep in contact with me.”
Oh, this fucking idiot thought Katsuki didn’t want him around anymore because he had to leave the hero course. How could he think that, when Katsuki’s been spending all of his morning jogs, late night walks back home from work when the weather’s not shitty enough to warrant taking the train, every shitty day where all the noise around him is too fucking loud and too fucking annoying and the only thing he can listen to without blasting his head off is Shouto’s music.
How could Katsuki forget about him. When he’s everywhere, on TV, on every social media, when news of him run right after they show Dynamight on screen yelling at the reporters.
“Make it up to me then, halfie.”
Shouto’s eyes twinkle with newfound interest at that, and an old, familiar sort of smirk overtakes his expression.
“You want another autograph?”
“No, dumbass. You already have my number, you said we’re friends right? Then let’s do shit that friends do. We’ll work around both our stupidly packed schedules. If that’s alright with you.”
“I’d like that. It’s been a while since I last hung out with friends. Everyone’s so busy these days, and since I’m busy with making sure everything goes smoothly for my next album I didn’t have time to do much of anything.”
Katsuki settles back in his seat and crosses both arms over his chest. He’s feeling a whole lot more relaxed than he did when he first stepped inside. Shouto’s looking more at ease, too, hands clasped over one another on the table, an easy smile dancing on his lips.
“What about you? D’you still talk to any of the extras from UA?”
Shaking his head at the nickname, Shouto starts telling Katsuki about the times he goes out with Momo and Kyoka out for tea, or the rare instances where he runs into some of their old classmates while they’re out on hero duty.
“How come we’ve never run into each other all this time?”
“Oh, I just recently moved back to Tokyo. I’ve been flying back and forth, since I never really had a place that wasn’t a temporary home. But as of a few months now I’m permanently living here in Tokyo.”
Their conversation flows into other things like what hobbies they have outside of work, Kirishima and Kaminari’s blunders from the agency and what little celebrity gossip Shouto knows that’s shared between them like they’re still a couple of teenagers.
It soon gets dark outside, and Shouto’s manager calls to inform him of his very early schedule tomorrow. He sighs, getting up from the booth and waiting for Katsuki to do the same so they can pay the bill and walk outside through the back door together (they’re still being careful of potential snoopy paparazzi).
“I wish I could stay longer, but you know how it is.”
“I have an early shift tomorrow anyway and I get grumpy if I don’t get my full 8 hours of sleep, per shitty hair’s words.”
Another laugh hidden behind a light blue sleeve, and Katsuki feels the urge to snatch it away.
“I do recall you yelling at us before classes, and also retiring to bed early at night. You never stayed up long enough for movie night.”
“Didn’t have time to fuck around with the bunch of idiots.”
“Mmm, it was a shame, I wish we had more time to be kids.”
Katsuki wants to say that he feels the same, but something tells him that there’s no need for him to announce it out loud. They both know how much time they spent being war soldiers instead of acting their age, acting like normal teenagers should.
No one said they can’t do it now, despite technically not being teenagers anymore. And who ever cared about technicalities anyways?
As soon as Katsuki pushes the door open for the two of them, a gust of frigid wind hits him right in the face. The smell of wet pavement – it must have rained while they were inside – and early Spring air dances around his nostrils. When he turns to look at Shouto, the scent of fresh cut flowers and mint mingles in with the smell of outdoors, and Katsuki’s brain is this close to turning to absolute mush.
He didn’t have the opportunity to sense it earlier, due to the smell of seasoned food, but Shouto’s scent is just as enticing as it was that day at the café. Either Katsuki needs to spend more time around Omegas to acquaintance himself better to these types of smells, or Shouto’s scent really is something else. Because it starts a burning fire in the pit of his stomach like no other.
“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have left my jacket at home after all.”
Shouto says from where he’s standing on his right. The man brings both arms, palms covered in the soft fabric of the blue sweater, around himself in a poor attempt at warming himself up.
“Can’t you use your fire to warm up?” Katsuki asks automatically, finding that it makes the most sense. Why not make use of it if you have a fire quirk?
Shouto lets his head hang down low at the inquiry.
“I could, but it takes a lot of energy if I use it for longer periods of time. I’ll be fine until I get to my car.”
Katsuki’s having none of that, because he remembers Shouto telling him that he had to park several blocks away in a secluded area, in case anyone were to recognize his car in the restaurant parking lot. He takes off his jacket and hands it to Shouto, throwing him a look that hopefully conveys how useless it’ll be if he tries to refuse.
“You really don’t have to, it’s not that cold, Bakugou.”
“Don’t want you going around catching a cold. You can give it back next time we meet up.”
Shouto looks to consider his offer, before he relents and takes the jacket. It’s much bigger on him, but he knows it’ll keep the Omega warm until he gets to his car. Now that he thinks about it, Katsuki could have just walked him there and gotten his jacket back today, but maybe it’s better if they don’t walk around together in public. He’s not in the mood to give the media something to gossip and create fake rumors about.
“Thank you, Bakugou. I’ll text you, or call. Which one do you prefer? Midoriya likes to call me more than talk through text messages, but I think that’s because he always has a lot to say, but Momo prefers-“
“Doesn’t matter to me. Whichever you like. Get your ass back to your car, pretty boy, before it starts raining again.”
“Right, have a good night, Bakugou.”
Katsuki waves back at him, shaking his head a little at how insistently polite halfie continues to be.
He’s shivering all the way back to his motorcycle, but he can’t get the thought of Shouto smelling like him out of his head.
____________
With the help of the Remote Partner program, Katsuki’s ruts don’t feel as unbearable as they used to be. They weren’t a reason of constant complaint, but the more cycles he spends alone, the more irascible he gets as soon as he’s done.
And with how much time he’s been spending lately with Shouto, the small glimpses he gets of the Omega’s scent tend to send Katsuki’s Alpha into an unruly wildfire of sensations. They make time to meet up outside of work schedule, but it’s still a pain the ass to get more than a couple of odd hours at a time.
Getting to know Todoroki Shouto all over again, an older Shouto who doesn’t have the damning future of becoming a hero looming above his head, quickly turns into something Bakugou starts looking forward to. Like he said before, he doesn’t do the whole ‘going out and meeting new people’, and in a way this isn’t that. It’s just him ‘reconnecting’ with his old high school classmate.
And also the guy whose music has been playing on loop in Katsuki’s head since the first album drop.
Besides the general enthusiasm that comes with spending time with someone who’s slowly becoming a close friend, Katsuki’s stupid heart doesn’t know when to quit. He was aware that his ‘admiration’ for Shouto’s music didn’t stop at the generic respect Katsuki has for his musical talent.
Shouto’s really fucking pretty, okay? Drop dead gorgeous. And everybody and their damn mother knows it, the guy’s face has been plastered on tons of billboards and promotional posters all over the city.
And every time they go out to eat or try one of those shitty sugary desserts at the local cat café – Shouto’s sweet tooth did not deter one bit since high school – Katsuki feels pathetic whenever his heartbeat goes haywire. He thought it’d stop, that his brain might get the message that half and half clearly just wants them to be friends, because the idiot sounds so fucking lonely whenever he talks about his packed schedule and how little time he has to do anything really.
Katsuki’s not going to blame Shouto for latching onto him and attempting to bud a new friendship between them.
But he blames himself for allowing his stupid crush to trespass the perimeters of his house. Where he has some of Shouto’s albums, along with neatly folded posters and photocards. It’s not like he’s collecting them. He’ll buy them if he finds them for sale at the bookstore attached to his preferred produce market, but that’s really the end of it.
It’s really no different from anyone else who looks up to heroes, just like half and half does.
Although, Katsuki doesn’t think that the average pro-hero fan would jerk off to their favorite hero during their rut or heat cycle. Or maybe they do, what the fuck does he know.
Keeping his stupid feelings under wraps turned out to be successful for only so long. Until Katsuki’s Alpha made a complex for himself and started fucking- just, treating Shouto like he’s their Omega. Skipping ahead to open doors for him, having napkins on hand whenever the half and half dumbass gets food all over his face – pretty boy’s a messy eater sometimes – holding the umbrella out for them when it’s raining, and Katsuki thinks he’s already handed Shouto like three of his jackets now.
Seriously, for all the money half and half makes from his music he can’t fucking seem to get a damn jacket. Not that Katsuki’s that upset about it, Shouto looks really good in his clothes.
And speaking of clothes, Katsuki doesn’t think he’s been this generous with his wardrobe ever before. Shouto’s pawed off – more like reluctantly accepted – three of his jackets, and now Katsuki’s packing up a pair of workout sweats along with a tank top that’s soaked through with his sweat and Alpha scent.
After a couple of letter-less packages, Frost, his assigned Omega partner, decided to get bold and take full advantage of the request option they had. So he started getting more specific in the types of clothes he wanted from him, one of them being “workout clothing” because the needy idiot seems to really like how Katsuki’s sweat smells. Or at least, how it molds in with his Alpha pheromones.
He’s not about to judge, Katsuki’s been jerking off to this guy’s scent for months now. Even popped his knot while holding what must have been the world’s shortest red shorts up to his nose and inhaling the delicious Omega pheromones seeped into the fabric.
So really, not much was going to surprise him by this point.
Only to be proven so wrong by the next package he receives.
“Hello.
I wanted to thank you for putting up with my previous requests. I know they may have been slightly unusual, but your scent really helped a lot. I didn’t think this program would work for me, but so far you have been an amazing Remote Partner.
As for what I sent you this time, I thought it’d repay you back for being so thorough with scenting your clothes. I hope you’ll make use of what I sent you, let me know if you want me to send more.
Your Remote Partner, Frost.”
Katsuki doesn’t know what to make out of this letter. The admission that his scent, along with his sweat, helped an Omega through heat and it gives his Alpha the biggest ego rush ever. Especially when it’s an Omega who smells this good. The package also absolutely reeks of sweet peppermint and it makes Katsuki’s head dizzy. He’s going to lose his damn mind over the scent anyway, he’s teetering on the cusp of his rut, fingers tearing away at the bubble wrap.
Instead of the usual light colored sweater or soft sleep clothes, Katsuki pulls out a pretty large sized glass bottle, containing a thick viscous liquid. A white label is stuck to the side, which reads “Omega Slick”.
There’s no fucking way. Katsuki’s heard about this before, from both the people at the agency and the online reviews. But he thought this was sent out to those who paid for the premium plan. It is up to them to send what they want to their Remote Partner, but Katsuki didn’t think Frost was going to be this fucking generous out of the blue.
His hand is trembling around the bottle, feeling like he has something he shouldn’t. Almost like he was walked in on at the UA dorms with a hand down his pants.
But that’s not all there is in the package. In an airtight sealed bag, there’s something colored a deep red wrapped in tissue paper. To Katsuki’s wrong guess, he thinks it’s the same pair of red booty shorts he sent back to Frost after washing them.
(Katsuki did debate keeping them and buying a new pair for his assigned Omega after he wrapped them around his cock and jerked off like that, but he trusted his washing unit to do a good job at erasing any evidence)
With the tissue paper laying crumpled at his feet, Katsuki is holding a pair of red lace panties. He can’t even attempt to hide the way heat climbs up into his cheeks, making his whole face flare up. He’s not a fucking virgin, alright? But the fact that this Omega, who doesn’t even know who he is, didn’t even see him, all he knows about Bakugou, about his assigned Alpha partner, is how he smells. And he seems to like his scent a fuck ton, if he trusted his remote partner enough to send him his slick and underwear.
A slip of paper falls out from where it was folded along with the underwear.
“I wore these during my heat.”
Katsuki doesn’t even bother pretending he’s not into this. He lifts the panties up to his nose and inhales in the heavenly scent of pure Omega heat. Syrupy honey and crisp peppermint oozes out of the skimpy fabric, flowing to his head like he’s fucking snorting drugs or something. Katsuki completely loses himself.
He doesn’t even recall when he got his dick out, when he managed to take off his clothes, but one hand is already gliding up and down his painfully hard cock while the other is tangled in the red fabric of the panties. They’re not thongs, so there’s enough fabric area for Katsuki to bite onto, lets his mouth open wide enough to taste the Omegan scent along with the slick.
Precum dribbles all over his fist, fat white globs dripping onto the couch and staining the cushions. The Alpha doesn’t give a fuck, not when he’s nose deep into a literal gold mine of Omega pheromones. This is so much different than inhaling in the oil from the Omega’s scent glands. It’s just as enticing, smelling like the unmistakable saccharine mint, like blossoming flowers, and it coils down Katsuki’s throat like sweet mint candy.
Shit, he can’t even see straight anymore. Vision blurry, fangs aching to latch onto his mate’s neck and sing his teeth into. Make sure the mark he leaves behind won’t ever fade. Katsuki wants so fucking bad to bend this Omega over, to grab Frost by the nape of his neck and make him present to his Alpha. To show off his pretty little hole that’s dripping such sweet smelling slick for Katsuki to fuck right into.
He’s never felt so frantic before. His fist harshly jerks his cock like it has a mind of its own, his abs clenching sharply the closer he gets to his release. Perspiration trickles down the back of his neck, filling Katsuki’s living room with the smell of horny and possessive Alpha, mingling along with the scent of his Omega.
There’s no doubt about it. This is his Omega. And Katsuki is going to allow his crazy Alpha brain to think of Frost that way until his rut is over. After all, that’s the whole fucking point of this program. Share scented clothes and jerk off to the play-pretend imagination of a mate.
His Alpha cries in distress when Katsuki allows a stray thought of loneliness overtake his mind, but he quickly shakes it off. He really wants this Omega all to himself.
Katsuki throws his head back, the hand holding the panties coming along with the arch of his neck, keeping the alluring smelling fabric close to his nose. The Alpha gets drool all over them. When a sharp fang gets caught into one of the red lace roses, Katsuki fears he might tear them apart. He finds that he doesn’t really care. If he has to, he’ll buy Frost as many panties as he wants, as long as he gets them all nice and slick and smelling like absolute heaven for Katsuki.
His orgasm takes the Alpha by surprise, spraying so high up that it gets on his sweaty pecs, some of the white ropes landing on the floor in front of him. His chest heaves with rappid breaths, and all Katsuki can taste and smell is Omega. His Omega. He feels like he’s slowly going insane.
Wasting absolutely no more time, the package gets carried all the way to his bedroom where Katsuki carefully opens the glass bottle of slick. It really feels like he has something illegal on him, something priceless, with how gently he opens the bottle, slowly taking it to his nose. The panties are still tightly wrapped all around his hand, nothing more now than a slick stained rag for Katsuki to bite and sniff at.
It’s pure crack, he concludes. Not that he’d ever fucked around with drugs, but if it’s anything like he heard it is, this must be it. His head turns cotton soft, no doubt red eyes already turned gold yellow from how feral his Alpha is going right now for this smell.
With a shaky hand he reaches inside the bottle and dips one finger into the slick. It gets licked right away, the raw flavor of Omega and sex impregnated onto the surface of his tongue. The Alpha is way too excited for this and Katsuki has to constantly remind himself that it’s not the first time he smells or tastes Omega slick. It’s the first time when he’d loved it this much though.
For so long he didn’t care that much for Omega slick or other bodily fluids that come along with him having sex with someone, and so far the scents he’s smelled ranged from bearable to moderately enjoyable. Nothing like this. Nothing like the heaven sent mana he’s currently licking off his fingers like a starved man.
Katsuki doesn’t even think twice before he takes a handful of the slick, webbing through his fingers like the sweetest honey, and slathers is all over his hard length. He can’t even recall getting soft after coming embarrassingly fast just a couple of minutes earlier.
A full body shudder racks though him at the exquisite sensation of him rubbing Omega slick on his cock. The panties untangle from in between his fingers, falling onto his bed, but Katsuki doesn’t forget about those. For now, he uses both hands to fondle and grope at his own cock and balls, getting the slick all over himself. He coats his knot in the stuff, feeling it throb under the touch of his palm.
There’s no time to feel disgusted about what he’s doing. No time to think about how ruined his sheets are going to be after this, how ruined his brain will be after all he’ll crave is the scent of this Omega who he doesn’t even know the name of, but whose slick he has lathered all over his Alpha cock.
There’s still enough slick in the bottle, making Katsuki wonder how long the Omega must have spent filling it up. How much of it is Omega squirt and how much he fingered out of himself directly into the bottle.
Shit, Katsuki’s getting harder than ever, until his dick turns a furious purplish red from it. The glide of his hands turns butter smooth with the addition of the slick, but it’s not tight enough. Not hot and wet enough like a real Omega would feel.
With a frustrated growl Katsuki reaches in the bottom shelf of his nightstand and grabs out his fleshlight. Good thing he thoroughly washed it last time and didn’t just leave it, so now all he has to do is pour some of Frost’s slick inside and go to town.
The first slide feels just the same it does every time Katsuki uses the toy to get off. Only now, instead of the synthetic slick he bought on a whim to use instead of regular lube, the real Omega slick makes this a thousand times more pleasurable for him. His bedroom turns into a hotbox for his and his Omega’s scent, and Katsuki swears he blacks out at one point.
Strong biceps flex each time he roughly thrusts into the toy and wills his arm to not follow along with the movement on his body and hold still. Katsuki prefers to fuck his own hips into it rather than pump it back and forth – though that feels good too – but this way he feels more involved. And he really doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s actually not fucking into a sweet Omega right now.
The panties get snatched up from where they landed on the bed and come in between Katsuki’s fangs. He can’t be bothered to hold them up to his nose anymore, the scent is everywhere anyway so it doesn’t matter if he has it right up his nostrils or not, it’s all around him anyway. So having them dangle between his teeth and biting into the heavenly smelling fabric satiates the urge to bite something else.
He’s so wound up, and so so close to coming his brains out. Katsuki’s digging his knees into the mattress, eyes shut tight with his head thrown back in pleasure. The blood red panties are damp with his drool, almost like they’re doused in lust coated pheromones, and Katsuki’s Alpha has never been this attached to a piece of clothing before.
His cock is fucking at a rapid pace in and out of the toy, squelching noises the only sound in his bedroom besides his heavy breaths and the rumble of his crooning. His knot is close to bursting with how close Katsuki’s body feels to absolutely exploding, the silicone of the fleshlight stretching out to fit it inside the second it pops.
It’s so fucking good, exhilarating even, when Katsuki’s cock locks inside the fake Omega pussy, but he so fucking wishes now it was real. He falls head first into his pillow, lulled into half slumber by the pleased thrum of his Alpha’s purr. He’ll wake up and go at it again, even more intense than it just was, but he has enough slick from his Omega to last him a few more days.
Fuck, he really needs to thank him now. And ask for more, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to return to just scented sweaters from now on.
Katsuki also really needs to get his jackets back from Shouto.