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Five hours into Katsuki’s first day on the job, his new charge is pounding his delicate fists into his back with a vehemence Katsuki would have assumed that tiny body wholly incapable of containing.
Still—
Katsuki has a job to do, and one spoiled little brat in high heels and lip gloss that leaves pink, sparkly smudges on the collar of your neatly pressed shirt isn’t enough to get in the way of that.
He would have definitely asked for a higher rate if he knew, though, because—
“Put me down,” Shouto hisses. “I’m an adult, you can’t seriously expect—”
“Your daddy pays me to expect anything, sweetheart,” Katsuki interrupts. “So how about you sit tight like a good little omega, huh?”
“That’s offensive,” Shouto says. “Where did the old man find you?”
“Hold still, what the fuck?” Katsuki says, nostrils flaring in annoyance when Shouto lands a decent hit. The little brat keeps trying to wiggle free. “I’ll put you down, just—stop doing that, for fuck’s sake.”
When Katsuki does put him down, both hands on his bare waist, Shouto’s face is flushed, his little crop top rucked up enough that Katsuki could count his ribs if he felt like it, and what was, approximately twenty minutes ago, a sleek ponytail is now more akin to a bird’s nest.
It’s a good look on him, honestly.
“You’re fired,” Shouto says, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’ll just—I’ll tell daddy I don’t need protection.”
Katsuki laughs. “Yeah,” he says, “sure. Good luck with that, sweetheart.”
Shouto stomps his foot. “Ugh,” he says. “I hate you.”
Katsuki allows himself the indulgence of watching him walk away for a bit before following behind him. Heaven forbid anything happens to the pretty princess five feet away from him. Imagine that. No one would hire him again.
Well. He was getting a little bored. At least this one might be fun.
…
“What are you doing?” Shouto squints at him, arms crossed over his chest. “You can’t be in here. This is my bedroom.”
Katsuki shrugs. “I was paid to keep an eye on you,” he says. “Not to slack off. Don’t worry, I’ll close my eyes if you’re shy.”
The pink flush creeps down Shouto’s neck. “What?” he says, drumming his fingers impatiently on his arm. “You’ll get in bed with me after? Check for monsters under it?”
And—
Sure, the brat’s easy on the eyes. And Katsuki has never liked his omegas particularly docile. Maybe keeping an eye on him is bound to turn into looking at him at some point either way, close quarters and all that, but—well. This is a job. He should at least try to keep that in mind.
“Nah,” Katsuki says, running his tongue over his teeth. “You’re too young for me.”
Shouto tosses a pillow at him. Overstuffed. Pink. Precisely the kind of thing that shouldn’t make for a decent weapon, and yet. Here Shouto is, giving it his best shot anyway.
Cute.
“I’m not a kid,” he protests. “Touya-nii didn’t get a bodyguard. Why do I need one?”
“Beats me,” Katsuki says. “But you’re doing a real good job not sounding like a kid by pointing the finger at your older brother, just so you know.”
Shouto huffs. “It’s because I’m an omega, isn’t it?” he says. “The old man thinks only alphas know how to handle themselves.”
“Dunno,” Katsuki says. “Seems to me like you can handle yourself just fine. My shoulder’s still numb.”
Shouto winces. “You were the one who picked me up like a sack of potatoes.”
“Because you tried to run away,” Katsuki says. “What part of stay where you’re safe is so hard to grasp?”
“The part where I haven’t seen my friends in weeks,” Shouto says. “I haven’t even—I can’t go anywhere or do anything. All because dad insists it’s not safe, and he won’t even—won’t even tell me why. I’m sure Touya-nii knows. Fuyumi doesn’t even live home anymore, but no one is telling her where she can and can’t go.”
“Tell me,” Katsuki says.
Shouto blinks up at him. “Tell you?” he repeats.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “Tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you. That way I can keep an eye on you, and you’ll be safe.”
“Oh,” Shouto says, so soft Katsuki would wonder if he’s hearing things if not for the way his whole demeanor changes, like all that fire got doused in water by such a small concession. “You will?”
Damn. Kid must really be lonely in this big house.
And—
He does look young, like this. Sitting carefully at the edge of the bed, hugging yet another overstuffed pillow to his chest. The part of Katsuki that will most likely never, ever learn kind of wants to step closer, maybe wrap both arms around him and tell him he gets anything he wants, just has to ask for it.
It’s not—
It’s not true, obviously. He gets whatever’s within Katsuki’s pay grade, but. Maybe they can stretch that a little. As long as Shouto keeps looking at him like that.
“What do you think your dad’s paying all that money for, huh?” Katsuki says. “C’mon, sweetheart.”
Shouto nods. “Okay,” he says. “But you really have to close your eyes.”
Which—
Katsuki can handle this. He knows about seventy-seven ways to incapacitate someone. He can handle Shouto asking him not to look while he changes with those big, pretty eyes fixed on him while he worries at his lower lip with teeth.
Right?
…
“You look nicer like this,” Katsuki says, gesturing to Shouto’s ripped jeans and his oversized shirt. “Less unwanted attention, too.”
Shouto pouts at him. “Are you just saying that because you don’t want people to look at me? You know, because it makes your job easier?”
“Who says I need my job to be easy?” Katsuki asks. “What do you take me for? Some kind of amateur?”
“Well,” Shouto says, biting at the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to laugh. “I barely know you.”
“Didn’t stop you from trying to maim me for life two hours ago.”
Shouto stops walking. They’re in the frozen goods aisle. Katsuki guesses he was about to reach for the strawberry ice cream. Instead, he abandons his shopping cart to reach for Katsuki. “Does it still hurt?”
Fuck, he’s cute. “What? My shoulder?”
“Yeah, I’m—I guess I got a little carried away. I’m sorry, Bakugou.”
Katsuki can’t help it. He presses closer, and cups Shouto’s chin. “Huh,” he says, making him look up. “Expected more fight in you. Little omega doesn’t bite after all.”
And Shouto—
Shouto does bite, apparently, because that’s pretty much all it takes for him to sink his teeth in. He keeps biting down when Katsuki tries to tug his fingers out of his mouth, too, only letting go when other people start throwing worried glances their way.
Must be a sight. Big, strong alpha trying to get the pretty omega to stop biting. He’s, like, a head taller than Shouto. A lot broader too.
His fingers glide over the wet swell of Shouto’s lower lip when he does finally decide to stop biting down, and for a breath or two, the dull ache doesn’t even register. No, because Katsuki’s too busy looking at Shouto.
“Okay, okay,” he says. “My bad. I’ll pay for your ice cream, how’s that sound?”
“How’d you know?” Shouto asks, shy all over while he wipes spit from his mouth with the back of his hand. “I didn’t get any yet.”
“Educated guess,” Katsuki says, trying not to think too hard about how Shouto left fuckin’ teeth marks on him. “Strawberry, right?”
“Yes,” Shouto says, pleased. “The one with the candied fruit chunks.”
Entirely against his will, Katsuki’s mouth twitches. “Don’t get used to it, halfie,” he says, even while he reaches to get the stupid ice cream out of the freezer for him. Right on the first try, obviously, judging by the content little curl of Shouto’s mouth.
…
Shouto’s pajamas have cats on them. Katsuki discovers this a week into his live-in babysitter—ahem, bodyguard duty.
Outside, it’s storming, and Shouto purses his red mouth and insists he can’t sleep.
For once, Katsuki decides to stand his ground. “Yeah?” he says. “What am I supposed to do about it? Tuck you in and kiss you good night? Thought you could take care of yourself.”
It lasts, predictably, until Shouto decides to tug at his forearm and whine, “Just—stay a little? Please?”
Well. At least he stopped with the biting.
“Thought you didn’t want me in here?” Katsuki sighs, even while Shouto closes the bedroom door behind him and places a chair by the door for him.
“I changed my mind,” Shouto says.
Katsuki opens his mouth to retort, but just then, lighting strikes, and Shouto goes so still Katsuki seriously considers caving once and for all and just crawling into bed like this with him instead. Never mind that he’s in nothing but an old tank top and boxers. So much for keeping it professional.
“You don’t like lightning?”
“Mostly the thunder,” Shouto says. “I hate the noise. I used to sneak into Touya-nii’s bed as a kid. Can’t do that now, though. Nii-san’s busy with—well. The family business, I guess.”
“Move over,” Katsuki says.
Shouto looks adorably confused under his huge duvet for a breath or two. Then, he says, perfectly even, “What?”
“Move over,” Katsuki repeats, fighting the urge to rub at his temples. “You don’t like sleeping alone, right?”
Shouto nods. “I don’t,” he says slowly. “But you’re not—you don’t have to. I’m pretty sure the old man isn’t paying you to sleep with me. I mean, uh, share—share a bed. With me.”
“You think he’d need to pay me to sleep with you?” Katsuki says. Can’t help it, really.
Shouto doesn’t say anything to that, but he does snuggle up to him when Katsuki peels the covers back to get in the bed. And then he’s just. Looking up at Katsuki, both palms warm on his chest. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You didn’t have to.”
Instead of the I wanted to fighting to crawl its way past his teeth, Katsuki says, “Hey, you already woke me up, pretty omega.”
Which—
It slips out. Mostly. Mostly, it slips out.
(A little bit is just wanting to hear the soft, content little oh Shouto lets out in response though.)
…
So far, Katsuki’s job involves very little literal guarding and a lot more of the sort of shit he might’ve done at sixteen or seventeen if he’d been a bit less of an idiot back then about liking pretty omegas.
Which he doesn’t, by the way. Because he can’t like Shouto. Not if he wants to deserve all the zeroes in his paycheck instead of feeling weirdly guilty about them.
He’s doing a pretty good job of it right now, though. The whole earning his pay thing. Because Shouto is gripping his forearm in yet another one of his tiny skirts and heels that are one flimsy strap breaking away from falling off his feet—which he insists hurt too much to walk on his own—and it’s a good thing he doesn’t weigh enough for it to matter anyway.
A small part of Katsuki wants to cook him a warm meal when they get home, actually.
Kid could use it.
“You shouldn’t have let me drink,” he says now. “Why did you do that, Katsuki?”
On second thought—
“I didn’t let you do anything,” Katsuki insists. “You were the one who kept touching the bartender’s arm and fucking—giggling like a schoolgirl.”
Hell, most of the alcohol in his body is probably from the candied cherries he kept sucking on like he wanted something else in his mouth. Which—that bartender wasn’t even an alpha, for fuck’s sake. Someone needs to get this kid some standards. For the sake of Katsuki’s blood pressure, if nothing else.
“You weren’t paying attention to me,” Shouto whines. “Someone—someone had to.”
Right. Of course. Because Shouto might honest-to-god wither and die if someone doesn’t tell him he looks pretty and smells fuckin’ sweet and—and that’s, what? Katsuki’s job now?
“Anyone will do, huh?” Katsuki asks, tipping Shouto’s chin his way with a finger. He’s soft all over, the brat. Soft and sweet and—and who the fuck looks good in pajamas with cats on them? It’s offensive. Katsuki is offended. “Doesn’t matter who it is?”
Shouto shakes his head. Or—tries to, but what ends up happening is he just grips Katsuki’s forearm tighter and tucks his face into Katsuki’s neck because, according to him, the room is spinning too much.
“Don’t let me do that again,” he says softly. “Please?”
It sounds a whole lot like pay attention Like take care of me. Which is what Katsuki was hired to do in the first place, so it shouldn’t pose much of a problem, but of course Shouto finds a way to turn it into one. Not on purpose, obviously.
It’s not—
It’s not his fault. No. It’s Katsuki’s. Katsuki’s for only wanting to hold him tighter even when they’re like this.
Already too close, and still—
Katsuki presses his lips to Shouto’s damp forehead. “Okay,” he says. “Anything you want, princess.”
…
The next morning, his spoiled omega is expectedly hungover.
“Here you go,” Katsuki says. “Brought you breakfast.”
Shouto’s head pokes out of the covers. Katsuki got him to wash all the makeup off when they got home last night, held his hair up when he almost started crying about not finding his headband and everything, so now at least Shouto doesn’t have smudged mascara to go with the messy hair and the pounding headache.
“Why are you being so loud?” he says, dragging the word out into a pout. “It’s early.”
“I’m not being loud,” Katsuki says. “Was actually trying to be a little quieter just for your sake, sweetheart. I guess you can’t tell the difference now, though. The cherries wear off yet?”
“Cherries?” Shouto repeats, mouth pursed all confused. “Oh, oh, you mean the—god. You saw that part?”
“I carried you home after that part,” Katsuki corrects. “Had to be real strategic too, with how short that damn skirt was.”
Shouto winces. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki says, leaving the tray on Shouto’s nightstand. “Don’t worry, didn’t peek.”
Shouto reaches for him, tugs on the sleeve of his suit and everything. “You could have,” he says, like he’s sharing a secret. “I wouldn’t have minded if it was just you.”
Katsuki laughs. “Not the bartender?” he asks. “Me?”
Shouto nods. “You know,” he says. “This other omega came up to me. She asked about you. Well, first she said my top was cute, but then she started talking about the hot blond in the suit. I kind of—I may have told her you only like other alphas.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Big ones.”
It’s hard to think, with Shouto touching him, delicate fingers drawing circles on the inside of Katsuki’s wrist like he just wants to be close. Like touching Katsuki is infinitely preferable to anything else. Which—maybe Katsuki should be a little offended considering he went out of his way to cut Shouto’s strawberries into little cat heads, but—
That’s hard too, with Shouto biting his lip like that. Like he’s not sure if he should apologize or skip straight ahead to saying please, alpha.
“I like alphas, huh?” Katsuki asks, pressing closer, a knee on the bed while Shouto leans back for him, nuzzling at the palm on his cheek.
“Maybe that’s why I feel so safe with you like this,” Shouto says. “Since I know you’re not interested in me.”
He looks so fuckin’ pretty under Katsuki. Perfect little omega.
Katsuki kisses the corner of his mouth, his jaw, down the curve of his neck. “Still safe?” he asks, a hand sliding from Shouto’s knee to the inside of his thigh.
Shouto gasps softly. “Mm,” he says. “Really—really safe.”
“God,” Katsuki says. “Fuck, look at you.”
“I think I like my view better.”
Katsuki nips at Shouto’s collarbone. “Nah, mine’s the best.”
Keeps getting better, too, with the way Shouto gasps, mouth falling open, when Katsuki presses a palm between his thighs, touching him where he’s warmest.
“Is—is this part of your job description too?” Shouto asks. “Wouldn’t want to—ah, impose.”
“Now you’re worried about that.” Katsuki laughs. “Would’ve been nicer last week when you made me help reorganize your closet.”
“Couldn’t reach the shoes at the top of the rack on my own,” Shouto protests, trailing off into another little gasp when Katsuki’s touches turn a little firmer, more purposeful. He wants to do this without Shouto’s flimsy little sleep shorts in the way, wants to feel him for real, soft and warm and wet and letting Katsuki touch him anyway.
“Sweetheart,” Katsuki says. “I’m trying here.”
Shouto’s mouth forms the perfect shape of an o. He’s bad for Katsuki’s heart. Perfectly content all cute and defenseless. What the fuck? “Right,” he says, nodding obediently. “Sorry, alpha.”
Katsuki hooks one thumb in the waistband of Shouto’s shorts. “Okay if I take these off?”
Shouto bites down hard on his lower lip. “Oh,” he says. “I haven’t—before. With an alpha. Or a beta. Or—anyone, really. One time, in high school, I went into heat unexpectedly and my friend Momo was there, and she had to—well. You probably don’t want to hear about that, actually.”
“You’ve never—,” Katsuki says. “Never? Not even during your heats?”
Shouto shrugs. “Toys work fine,” he says. “Besides, I don’t really—I don’t know. Most alphas aren’t that appealing anyway.” His nose scrunches. “Too much trouble. And they do that spreading thing when they sit down so you either have to like them enough to sit in their lap or it’s just obnoxious.”
“So I’m special,” Katsuki says, running his tongue over his canines. “Is that it?”
“Also hard to get rid of,” Shouto says. “I bit you and you still wouldn’t go away.”
“Might bite you this time,” Katsuki warns, teeth scraping along the side of Shouto’s unmarked neck. “Think your dad is gonna be mad? Huh, little omega?”
“I don’t care about that,” Shouto says. “I just—you don’t mind?”
Katsuki wonders what he could possibly mind with Shouto under him like this, so damn pretty it makes his chest hurt. His eyelashes would probably tickle Katsuki’s cheek if Katsuki leaned in and took what he wanted. Well—the first bit, anyway. Because it doesn’t feel like a one time thing. Or even a hundred time thing.
Fuck.
This definitely wasn’t in the job description.
Has anyone looked at Shouto without falling to his knees, though? Because that seems real fucking unlikely from where Katsuki’s standing.
“Mind what?” he asks, thumb stroking Shouto’s cheek. “Could tell me the world’s ending, and I’d be fine right here.”
Shouto’s tongue darts out to wet his upper lip. “I really should’ve had fewer of those cherries,” he says, wincing. “Bakugou, I don’t—”
“No,” Katsuki interrupts. “You’re not calling me that when we’re like this.”
Shouto blinks. “What am I supposed to—oh.” The edge of his mouth twitches. “I didn’t think you were that kind of alpha,” he says. “You’re full of surprises.”
“What kind of alpha?” Katsuki asks, pushing the collar of Shouto’s shirt down to nip there instead of kissing his red mouth. “The kind who’s gonna take care of you?”
“You’re already doing that,” Shouto protests, melting into a gasp when Katsuki pinches a nipple through his shirt. “Already, ah, put up with me all the time.”
“How do you know I’m not having fun?”
“I thought that was above your paygrade.”
“It was,” Katsuki says, and then kisses Shouto anyway.
Can’t not, really. Easier to bite his own tongue off than not dip it inside Shouto’s mouth to see if he tastes half as sweet as he smells. Fucking strawberries. Until a handful of weeks ago, Katsuki would’ve sworn up and down he couldn’t stand omega scents that sweet. Look at him now. Desperate to lick Shouto clean of it between his thighs.
When he pulls back, Shouto’s mouth is wet, and he brings a hand up to touch his lips like he can’t quite believe it. What, exactly? That Katsuki touched him without an excuse? That he wants him enough to be selfish about it?
He smiles at Katsuki like he’s thinking about anything but selfishness, though. Smiles and wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck to pull him down again, and then he whispers, “Thank you, alpha,” into his mouth like he’s sharing a secret.
Thing is—
He tastes so fucking sweet Katsuki doesn’t get why he’s the one saying thank you when Katsuki wants to fuckin’. Fall down on his knees in worship. Or, you know, whatever counts as the horizontal equivalent.
“Baby,” he coos, kissing Shouto wherever he can reach, all over his face, his cheeks and his forehead and the mesmerizing swell of his upper lip, right in the center where it curves. “Sweetheart. Princess. Prettiest omega in the whole world.”
Shouto bares his neck for him. “Please,” he whines. “Oh, alpha, please.”
…
In the next few weeks, Katsuki takes any and all opportunities to kiss Shouto’s pretty mouth. In a secluded corner when no one’s paying attention to them. With his pretty omega pressed up against his bedroom door, struggling to lock it while Katsuki nips at his bare neck. Or—
Like this, Shouto sitting pretty in his lap, straddling Katsuki’s thigh while one of Katsuki’s hands slides up his knee, the other gripping his hip to keep him steady.
“I’m really wet,” Shouto gasps. “It’s your fault.”
“You want me to say sorry, sweetheart?” Katsuki asks. He can feel it. Shouto all wet and swollen for him. The heat of him. The way his body fits just right all soft and pliant against Katsuki’s. “Is that it?”
Shouto nuzzles at Katsuki’s throat. “You need to shave,” he says. “And no, I don’t—you don’t have to say sorry. But you could do something about it.”
Katsuki stills. He’s been dreaming of doing something about it. In vivid detail. It might count as an actual liability at this point. Might end up turning into a real-life situation where some piece of shit is out to hurt them, and Katsuki is too distracted by Shouto’s skirt floating up in the breeze to see what he’s pointing a loaded gun at, and he ends up shooting himself in the foot instead of the target. And he wouldn’t even mind, is the thing.
No, he’d consider it perfectly acceptable. Because the only semi-coherent thought in his brain when he looks at Shouto is mine. Which sometimes unspools into fuck, look at you and you’re so fucking pretty and I want to bite you everywhere, but. Mostly it means the same thing.
So.
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks.
Shouto gives him an eager little nod. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he says. “I want you to. You know, I was thinking about it last night too.”
“Kept you up?” Katsuki asks, gripping Shouto’s hips a little tighter. “Poor little omega couldn’t sleep?”
“No,” Shouto says evenly. “I, ah, I thought of you, and then I could sleep just fine.”
“Nice thoughts?”
“Mm, the nicest.”
“You gonna share them?”
Shouto’s lips brush against Katsuki’s earlobe when he leans up to whisper, “Thought of having you inside me,” in his ear. “I want to see your face. Wanna—want to know how good I’m making you feel. Want to know I’m the only one who gets to.”
Fuck. There’s definitely a wet spot on Katsuki’s thigh by now, with Shouto wiggling in his lap like that. Katsuki pictures wiping his mouth and adjusting his tie and having to walk out and keep doing his job like that, explain why he smells like goddamn strawberries even before someone notices all the rest.
“Course you are,” he says now. “What? You think I go around risking my job for every pretty omega who bats his eyelashes at me?”
“You better not,” Shouto hisses. “Ah, alpha.”
“So fucking pretty,” Katsuki says, nipping at his throat. “Wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna hold you open when I’m done just to watch it drip out of you. Wonder if it’ll fit, though. You’re so small.”
“I can take it,” Shouto whines. “I can—you’ll make it fit. I really—I really want to, alpha please.”
Katsuki should be the one begging. Katsuki should be the one unravelling to bits and pieces right now, too, but instead it’s Shouto. With each little whine he muffles into Katsuki’s neck, it’s harder and harder to miss. How close to the edge he must be, just from this. Katsuki running his mouth at him because he never knows when to shut up.
“I know you can,” Katsuki whispers. “Can’t wait to look at you. Wanna look at you for the rest of my life, princess.”
And—
That’s all it takes.
He hasn’t even caught his breath yet, heart thumping in his ribcage like a wild animal, before Shouto’s crawling off Katsuki’s lap to tug his wet underwear off, face red. “Sorry,” he says. “That was—quicker than I expected.”
He just came from some clumsy friction and a few words, and he’s apologizing?
God, he’s so—
“C’mere,” Katsuki says. “Wanna get my mouth on you. Is that okay?”
“What about you?” Shouto asks, worrying at his lower lip.
“We’ll get to that.” Katsuki laughs. “Don’t worry. Just wanna make you feel good.”
“You already do,” Shouto says, almost like an admonishment, but he lets Katsuki crawl between his thighs and part his lips with his fingers anyway, little skirt bunched up around his waist. “You’re—ah, so good to me.”
It’s not true. Not really. He could be better. Is gonna prove that right now, actually.
Because—
Shouto shouldn’t settle. He should get everything he wants, and then some more for good measure. And Katsuki wants to be responsible for giving it to him.
Slick glistens between Shouto’s thighs. Katsuki can’t stop looking at him. All pink and sweet. He leans in, and kisses him where he’s wettest, right over the puffy swell of his clit. “Eyes on me, princess,” he says, and then he takes Shouto’s clit into his mouth.
Shouto listens. Of course he does. He keeps his eyes on Katsuki even while his hands go from clutching uselessly at the sheets to pulling on Katsuki’s hair instead, all needy trying to keep from grinding against Katsuki’s mouth.
(It feels a lot like falling, the way Shouto says his name while Katsuki brings him over the edge again.)
…
The bad days come after.
Well—
According to Shouto, they were always there.
“They’re not very consistent,” he says, his laugh strained and bitter. “But I don’t—I don’t know. It was always like this. Back when mom left, I didn’t get out of bed for a month. I think at some point in the second week Touya-nii threw a bucket of cold water on me in bed just so I’d get up and take a proper shower.”
“Don’t talk,” Katsuki says, bringing another forkful of omelette up to his mouth. Little brat hasn’t eaten in two days. Katsuki’s last commendable triumph was getting him to drink some orange juice. “You’ll choke.”
“It’s okay,” Shouto says. “You’ll save me. My hero.”
He doesn’t talk much after until Katsuki has fed him most of the omelette, though, and he even reaches for a handful of grapes on his own.
“Good boy,” Katsuki says, kissing the top of his head.
“Don’t,” Shouto whines. “I’m disgusting. Haven’t showered in three days.”
“Hey,” Katsuki says, pulling him closer despite Shouto struggling like an angry kitten for all of ten seconds. “Don’t insult my omega.”
Shouto looks up at him. “Why?” he asks. “Is that your job?”
“My job is keeping you safe. Well. That and pretending I don’t know why your dad’s been glaring at me so much recently.”
“Sorry about that,” Shouto says. “Nii-san keeps making these jokes at dinner, I think it’s been getting to him.”
“You told your big brother about me?” Katsuki teases, kissing a trail up Shouto’s pale throat.
“He guessed,” Shouto says. “Told me I looked happier. Then he asked if it had anything to do with how often I make you carry me places.”
“Should I stop?”
Shouto clutches at the sleeve of his suit. “No,” he says. “No, don’t stop.”
…
The first thing Shouto asks for when he makes it out of his bundle of blankets is, “Will you teach me how to cook?”
Katsuki blinks. His hair is still damp, hastily pulled up into a claw clip. The ends are wavy when they’re wet. He hadn’t noticed that before. “You wanna learn how to cook?” he asks. “Since when?”
Shouto bites at the inside of his cheek. “I figured it could be useful,” he says. “Fuyumi cooks.”
“She ever try to teach you anything?”
Shouto winces. “Oh,” he says. “She did. Touya-nii wasn’t done laughing by the time the fire department got here.”
“That bad, huh?”
Shouto nods. “I’ve been told my chive cutting skills leave much to be desired.”
“Was that related to the fire, or…?”
“Which answer is more likely to get you to teach me?”
Katsuki laughs. “Lucky for you, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m trained to handle high-risk circumstances.”
“Is that so?” Shouto asks, head tilted the slightest bit to the side at him across the kitchen counter. “So you won’t mind if it gets a little hot?”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Katsuki says, even if—well, Shouto is cute. Damn precious. And the part of Katsuki that isn’t too busy wanting to eat him whole just like this, lean across the counter and pull him in with a hand on the back of his neck and keep him there to taste him is just happy he’s here pouting at Katsuki about teaching him how to cook. Because Katsuki will feed him as many omelettes in bed as Shouto wants him to, but—he likes this better.
Hell, he likes Shouto being a little brat at him a whole lot in general, so. Maybe it’s that easy.
“Mm,” Shouto says. “My alpha agrees.”
Yeah, actually. It’s real easy.
Even if—
As it turns out, Shouto wasn’t lying about the chives.
Katsuki picks up a string of butchered chives still stuck together, and squints at them. “Gimme the knife, princess,” he says. “I don’t trust you with it.”
“Aren’t you supposed to teach me?” Shouto protests. “Can’t you be all handsome alpha about it and do that thing where you press up behind me and put your hand over mine?”
“Is that what you want?” Katsuki asks, chin tucked over Shouto’s shoulder. “Thought you wanted to learn for real?”
“After,” Shouto whines. “You can kiss me a little first.”
Katsuki nips at his earlobe. “Just a little?”
“Or, you know, a lot.”
“How about I just cook for you?” Katsuki asks, hands gripping Shouto’s waist, bodies pressed so close that if Shouto wanted him to he could bend him over right here. Even if—
He could do that whole rose petals on the bed thing too, if that’s what Shouto wants for his first time. Because it matters. What Shouto wants matters a whole lot. Evidently, considering Katsuki is here trying to teach him how to cut chives when the alternative doesn’t pose any threat to his safety in the slightest.
God, he’s so gone.
“Can’t take care of you, pretty omega?”
“You don’t mind?” Shouto asks. “I want to be a proper omega, you know. The kind who knows what the difference between baking soda and baking powder is without having to look it up.”
“Baking soda is stronger,” Katsuki says. “So you can’t really use them interchangeably without adjusting the recipe. There. Happy now?”
Shouto turns to face him. “Wow,” he says, arms wrapping around Katsuki’s neck. “You’re so cool, alpha.”
“Shut up,” Katsuki hisses, the tips of his ears warm. “You know what you’re doing.”
Shouto shakes his head. “Me?” he says. “I have no idea. Not in the slightest.”
“C’mere,” Katsuki says, lifting Shouto up by the backs of his thighs just to place him down on the kitchen counter. “I think you’re due some other lessons.”
“I might be,” Shouto agrees, and then he leans in, and lets Katsuki kiss him.
(All in all, they make a lot more solid progress than they did with the chives.)
…
Shouto’s burning up.
It’s late. He’s wearing nothing but one of Katsuki’s old shirts, and every bit of his body pressed to Katsuki’s is so warm it can be nothing but the start of a rough heat.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Katsuki coos, pressing the back of his hand to Shouto’s sweaty forehead. “Let’s get you in a bath, okay?”
“Don’t want one,” Shouto slurs. “Too hot. I need—alpha, I need—really, really need it. Please.”
Rationally, Katsuki knows he should get someone. Stubbornly, the alpha bit of him just wants to take care of Shouto on his own, though. No matter if he needs a cold compress or a knot to get him through it. Katsuki wants to be the one to give Shouto relief through the discomfort of a heat.
Him, and not—
Katsuki bites back a growl. No one should so much as look at his omega like this, let alone get to touch him or breathe in that sweet scent.
“Don’t worry,” Katsuki says. “I got you. I’ll take care of you.”
With some effort, he manages to get Shouto into a bath, the water lukewarm so it doesn’t worsen his heat. Shouto hisses and claws at him through the whole thing, though, knees hugged to his chest while he pouts at Katsuki about you’re being mean, and it’s not fair and I really do need a knot inside, it hurts.
“Hey princess,” Katsuki says, cupping Shouto’s chin even while the part of him that’s all instinct screams at him to take care of his chosen omega like a proper alpha instead of dragging his feet about it like a coward. “Look at me.”
He doesn’t—
He doesn’t want to hurt Shouto, though. He doesn’t want Shouto to look him with anything but trust in those pretty eyes, and the mere thought that once the worst of his heat settles down he might decide he doesn’t want Katsuki around at all is—
Well, maybe he is just being a coward.
“Alpha,” Shouto whines. “You promised you’d take care of me.”
Yeah, and he’s been pushing that past what he’s getting paid to do since the very first day, so. It’s not that different right now, is it?
“You sure?” he asks. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” Shouto says, so sure of it if he weren’t still burning to the touch Katsuki would wonder if he’s in heat at all. Because he always smells like heaven. So it’s not—it’s not like it’s just dumb alpha bullshit making Katsuki want to sink his teeth in and bite down until Shouto’s blunt nails are digging into his back, pointy omega teeth leaving marks on his collarbone while he tries to muffle his pleasure.
He could have had that already, if it was just that.
Shouto would have let him.
“Okay,” Katsuki says. “Okay then, princess. I’ll help with your heat.”
…
The theoretical promise of a knot isn’t enough to sate Shouto even for a bit, apparently, because by the time they make it back to his bedroom Katsuki’s equally drenched from Shouto pulling him into the bath instead of just letting Katsuki carry him out like a good little omega.
Something about it not being fair, according to him.
“I like you better like this,” Shouto says, content. “Too neat otherwise.”
“Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Katsuki laughs.
“No,” Shouto says. “Not at all.”
And then he pulls Katsuki into a kiss that’s mostly teeth and spit, and they don’t talk for a bit, the little gasps Shouto tucks into Katsuki’s mouth for safekeeping the only sound between them.
…
He’s tight.
Shouto’s so fucking tight that if each little gasp coming out of his mouth wasn’t needier than the one before, Katsuki would worry he’s hurting him just stretching him out with his fingers. But Shouto takes it. He takes Katsuki’s fingers and he only whines for more with tears in his eyes when Katsuki gets his mouth on him. And when Katsuki does finally start to press inside, all that slick warmth taking him ininin, the only sound out of Shouto’s mouth is a content sigh.
“Oh,” he says, cheeks warm. “That’s—really full.”
And then, because he’s actually trying to kill Katsuki, obviously, he presses one delicate hand low on his belly, and whines, “I can feel you inside.”
It doesn’t take much for Katsuki’s knot to pop, after that.
…
The first thing Shouto tells him in the morning is, “Thank you. You were really good.”
Still half asleep, Katsuki pulls him in to kiss his sweaty forehead. “Your fever broke,” he says. “That’s good.”
“Is that how you’re going to check that from now on?”
“Why?” Katsuki asks. “You got a problem with that, little omega?”
Shouto shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I was just thinking I might get spoiled.”
“Little late for that, don’t you think?”
“Hey,” Shouto says, dragging the word out. “You didn’t seem to mind it that much to begin with.”
Which—
Well, he’s not wrong, exactly.
“And now you’re stuck with me,” Katsuki says. “Might bite you and everything.”
“Oh,” Shouto says, like he hadn’t realized yet. Then, “You can. You can do that. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Katsuki echoes, nipping at Shouto’s mating gland. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Take care of me,” Shouto says. “And kiss me a lot. The knotting was nice too. I don’t think I’d mind more of that. You might have to tell dad so he stops setting me up on dates with the alpha sons of people he works with, though. I can’t take another one of those, they’re all so boring.”
Obviously not. He’s Katsuki’s. And he’s not going anywhere that’s not this bed in the near future as long as Katsuki gets a say. They can get to the rest later.
“Won’t have to,” he says. “You’re all mine now, sweetheart.”
“Even if it comes with a pay cut?” Shouto asks in full seriousness.
Katsuki bites down a little harder. Not enough to break skin. Not yet. “Yeah,” he says. “Even then.”
…
In the end, it’s not too bad.
Shouto still pouts until he gets what he wants, but it’s not like Katsuki minds giving it to him. He’s gotten pretty used to it these past few years.
“You’re doing that thing,” Shouto says now, arms crossed over his chest. “Where am I supposed to sit?”
“Right here,” Katsuki says knowingly, patting his lap. “What? Don’t like me enough for it?”
“I love you,” Shouto says, gingerly taking his favored seat. “You know that, don’t be mean.”
And—
Yeah, Katsuki does.
“Love you too, princess,” he says, pressing his lips to Shouto’s forehead.
“I know,” Shouto says, a delicate hand reaching up to touch the mating mark on his neck. “I wouldn’t have let you bite me otherwise.”
“Spoiled,” Katsuki says. “Such a spoiled little omega.”
Shouto shakes his head. “Yours,” he says. “There’s a difference.”
“Gonna remind me when we get home?” Katsuki asks.
Shouto hums. “Sure,” he says. “If you’re good. I promised nee-san I’d actually help with the cooking this time.”
“What if I wanna keep you right here?” Katsuki asks. “Then what?”
Shouto laughs. “Then you’re going to have to tell Fuyumi yourself,” he says, and—
It’s great, actually. Everything Katsuki’s ever going to want, tucked safely in his arms, pretty and perfect and his, his, his. Forever. Of course Katsuki doesn’t want to let him go even just to help out with the dinner preparations.
“You know what?” he says. “I think I can handle that, princess.”