Chapter Text
Izuku set his phone down on the table, a shirtless photo of his match on Heatr displayed.
“I don’t know, guys, this seems crazy. Is this crazy? What if he’s like a serial killer or, or our scents are crazily incompatible? Or what if he doesn’t look anything like this?”
“Ooo, sexy serial killer,” Ochako cooed, swiping up the phone. “This man is a walking yield sign with those shoulders and waist. Look at that tapered V I see towards the motherland. I would happily die in heat with this man.”
“You would never know she’s mated,” Shouto deadpanned, his Omega’s supportive antics not fazing him. “But it’s simple, Izuku. Just meet him somewhere in public first, scent him out, and go from there.”
“And we’ll know you’re meeting him, so just share your location and update us so we know you’re safe!” Ochako chimed.
“Okay, but,” Izuku started, overthinking out loud. “He’s a guy interested in a male Omega. Maybe he’s catfishing me and is secretly an anti-male Omega activist and wants to take me back to his creepy lab and run tests on me. Or what if he’s some kinda rare experience chaser, trying to fuck the unlucky one percent as some chip on his belt?”
“Deku,” Ochako chastised. “Don’t talk about yourself like that; you’re not unlucky. You’re unique and perfectly you! Shouto and I love you just the way you are.” She elbowed Shouto. “Right, honey?”
Shouto hummed and nodded, more to appease his mate than Izuku.
Most males were Alphas or Betas, and females were Omegas or Betas. But as with all things where there was a majority, there was a minority. One percent of females were rare and gifted—they were female Alphas; one percent of males were rare and broken—they were male Omegas.
Izuku was a male Omega.
Izuku counted himself fortunate. Had he been born only a hundred years earlier, his life would’ve been far worse. He would’ve been ostracized, experimented on, or institutionalized. After marches, fundraisers, and thousands of activists, the world realized that presenting as a male Omega was nothing more than pure genetics and chemistry that did nothing to alter their minds or worth.
But prejudice was like spaghetti sauce on clear Tupperware. Society could scrub at the container and celebrate its uniqueness with the pretense it was a superpower or a gift, but the plastic would never be the same. An undercurrent of red would always remain; the only way to ever rid the world of it would be to toss the tainted container and buy a new one.
Izuku felt the silent judgment and preconceived notion of who he was in everything he did, everywhere he went. He saw the way eyes looked at him when scenting him—with distaste, pity, or, worst of all, predatorily. He may have equal rights and Male Omega Month, but the unspoken constructs wore on him.
It had worn on him his whole life.
He wanted only to feel angry about it, to declare his outrage and leave it at that emotion. But the world around him subliminally reminded him everywhere he went that he was the broken, weird, lesser one. Rather than express his exasperation, it manifested as shame—shame that corroded him with each passing glance, suggestive comment, or outdated extremist opinion.
So it was a habit to refer to himself as unlucky as one of the world's scarce male Omegas. That didn’t mean his friends put up with his self-deprecating bullshit.
“You’re not broken,” Ochako sighed, setting Izuku’s phone down.
She reached out and grabbed Izuku’s wrist, swiping her thumb over his wrist gland. Her comforting Omega pheromones—like a cup of tea or a firm hug—trickled through Izuku’s tense muscles, relaxing his body.
“Like I already said,” Shouto sighed, swiping through Izuku’s phone, which was now in his hands. His thumb scrolled several times before turning the phone back to Izuku. “Just meet him in public first, feel him out. He doesn’t have his sexuality labeled on the app, so he’s probably fluid or doesn’t like labels. But his messages make it seem like he's doing this for the same reason as you: he needs to have ruts so his hormones don’t take away from the demands of his life. Stop overthinking it like you do everything.”
An Omega’s heat typically lasted three days, but Izuku no longer had time for that. He had his dissertation to finalize and crush, and writhing around in his slick fiending for a knot to fill him ten percent of the month didn’t fit into that. If he found an Alpha to spend heat with, it would only last a day… and be far more enjoyable.
Spending a heat with an Alpha helped ease, shorten, and make Omegas' heat more bearable. It was advantageous for Alphas to experience a rut, which required being with an Omega during their heat at least a few times a year lest they get pent up and aggressive.
So, Izuku downloaded Heatr, a hook-up dating app designed for Omegas to find an Alpha with whom to spend their heat.
Izuku wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of transactional type sex, but his relationship status of Emotionally Unavailable wasn’t changing anytime soon. Using a hook-up app where the other party was just as willing seemed like a mid-ground solution.
The match on the app he shared with his friends was succinct, physically and disease-wise clean, and didn’t give Izuku the creeps—alarmingly to the point but not creepy.
And yeah, okay, Ochako wasn’t wrong—he was flaming hot. Like, he could probably produce fire if he wanted to, hot.
“Okay, okay,” Izuku exhaled. “You’re right. I’ll respond to his message and ask that we meet before my heat and go from there.”
His thumbs tapped across the screen, and he typed a message with the guidance of his friends. He set his phone down and watched a confirmation message come through a few minutes later.
“Our boy Izuku is getting laaaaaaaaid!” Ochako squealed, bouncing in her seat. “You’re going to have to tell us all about him and all the hotness and sweatiness that unfolds.”
“Please, I beg you, don’t share,” Shouto grimaced.
Izuku laughed at his friends' differing approaches to support while feeling nervous and apprehensive but… giddy and excited.
Hopefully, he would have a far more enjoyable heat than he had ever experienced.
Hopefully, this Katsuki guy was good in bed.
~*~
Katsuki sat in the coffee shop, twirling the cup of coffee in his hands. He was feeling on edge, impatient. Katsuki knew it was still five minutes until Izuku, the Omega he matched with on Heatr, agreed to meet. But Katsuki had arrived twenty minutes early to the coffee shop.
Early was on time, and on time was late.
Katsuki also lived above the storefront of the coffee shop, which played a part in his early arrival. But that was on the Omega who asked for suggestions of a public place to meet, to feel and smell each other. Katsuki didn’t want to waste any more time than he had to if this wasn’t going to pan out, so he chose what was convenient for him. He had shit to do, and commuting all-around town for a possible waste of time wasn’t one of those things.
That behavior—the laser focus, no time to waste—got Katsuki into this situation.
Shortly after presenting in high school, he went on suppressants. He wasn’t a romantic or True Mate sycophant; he was practical and driven. He had things he wanted to achieve, and getting pulled into baser instincts like ruts and love didn’t equate to the formula.
But fucking biology didn’t like that. Years of medically flipping his animal-ways the bird had led to a lot of pent-up aggression. According to his squad commander, that was ‘the last thing Katsuki’s prideful and hot-headed ass needed’ when heading into raids or responding to life-or-death situations.
Katsuki was prideful enough to stomp and curse out of Yagi’s office but not too prideful to know the old bastard was right—not that he would ever admit that out loud. So, he took the order from his Commander and department medical staff at the agency to ween off his suppressants and release the lid of the pressure cooker he was becoming.
He begrudgingly asked some of his unit members what they did to check this biological box. They suggested Heatr. Later that evening, he downloaded the app.
He picked his phone back up. Two minutes.
Katsuki exhaled through gritted teeth, his constant sense of urgency festering under his skin. He swiped to his chat with the Izuku guy to keep his hands busy.
When Katsuki had set up his profile, he hadn’t entered what his sexuality was. He didn’t see the point of labels. Never had, never would. Katsuki just thought everyone should fuck who they wanted to fuck and mind their own damn business.
While he didn’t label his sexuality, he did, however, set his filter to male Omegas. Katsuki didn’t think much of it—he just preferred the scent of men.
Something about female Omegas, the majority of Omegas, had scents that perturbed Katsuki. It wasn’t that the scents themselves were terrible. Still, they reminded him of things he hated: candle shops with too many competing florals that gave him headaches, freshly blooming gardens that reeked of pollen and made him sneeze, chocolate cake that was so rich it made his stomach sick after only a few bites…
Not that Katsuki had ever smelled a man and been aroused, but he hadn’t gone starkly flaccid, either. So, Katsuki surmised a better place to start would be with a male Omega.
When he set the filter, the number of possible matches was limited. Because Omegas made up only one percent of the male population, he was fully prepared to be disappointed with his options.
But after only a few left swipes, a face with big green eyes and freckles filled the screen. Katsuki swiped through the pictures of the Omega, who was seven inches shorter than his six-foot-two build, finding himself drawn to the small yet muscularly built Omega whose curly hair matched his eyes. His profile had a lot of words and emojis, explaining he was a doctoral student the same age as Katsuki—26—looking for something casual, possibly recurring.
Katsuki bit and the Omega reeled the line in.
They messaged a bit and shared some photos of each other. Not nudes, but not fully clothed, either, and damn the guy’s ass was like a cupcake. The conversation quickly led to agreeing to meet.
Which was in one minute. The Omega had one fucking—
The door to the cafe swung open, the bell attached to it chiming.
Large green eyes surfed the coffee shop, landing on Katsuki. Izuku nervously smiled, waved, and walked towards him. He wore worn gray jeans with an off-white hoodie with geometric designs on it underneath a forest green canvas jacket. Katsuki had to fight at the drool that pooled in his mouth as he checked the Omega out because, damn, he was sexy, and Katsuki couldn’t explain the need he felt to sweep the compact man up over his shoulder and head straight up to his apartment and do nasty, messy—
“Katsuki?” Izuku said shyly with a smile so innocent it could have broken Katsuki had he not been pure fire and ash.
“Yup,” Katsuki replied, popping the p.
The two stared at each other, and the pause between them reached full term.
Katsuki swore internally. He should say something instead of mapping the constellations in the freckles dusted across Izuku’s face, but the adorable little fucker wasn’t making it easy.
Seriously, who walked around this radiant, this bright, just casually meeting strangers?
“S-so, um,” Izuku spoke, breaking the silence and scratching the back of his head. “D-do you want a coffee or-or…”
Izuku’s cheeks blushed the most delectable pink as he bit his plush bottom lip, eyes casting down.
Katsuki had known this man for less than a minute, and he already knew he was going to be bad for his health; he was practically an advertisement for the Let’s Fuck Alpha scent right now just looking at the Omega. What would happen if he touched Izuku?
“I have one already,” Katsuki replied, gesturing to his mug. “I can get you one. What do you want?”
“Oh, um,” Izuku looked towards the menu. “Cappuccino?”
“Is that a question? Or an answer?”
He cast his green gaze back to Katsuki.
“Answer,” he giggled. “Sorry, I’m kinda nervous. I’ve… never done this.”
Katsuki quirked a brow.
“Meet someone off of Heatr to gauge whether they’re the person whose knot you want filling you? Me either. Except I’m the one with the knot.”
“You don’t mince words, do you?” Izuku countered quickly, tilting his head with a soft smile.
Katsuki’s heart palpitated at that glorious grin, and, fuck; he needed to get his shit together. Katsuki Bakugou did not act like… this.
“Cappuccino coming up,” he said, clearing his throat. “And then we’ll talk about fucking.”
“You’re a poet,” Izuku breathed sarcastically.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes; this Omega wasn’t afraid to bear his fangs, unlike every other Omega he’d met.
“And you’re a snarky little bastard, aren’t you?”
Izuku shrugged with a coy look, looking up at the Alpha. Katsuki realized during the banter they had somehow gotten within inches of each other. He was in Izuku’s space enough to smell… What did he smell on the Omega?
He spun on his heel, walking to the counter quickly. Katsuki rarely lost his composure, but for some reason, the synapses of his brain weren’t firing correctly around this Omega. He felt like a malfunctioning moron.
He barked the order at the barista, making them rattle in their skin; this was a far more typical reaction for him than how this Omega was acting.
Katsuki huffed, taking inventory of himself as he stood and waited for the cappuccino.
What was this strange, buzzy, fluttery sensation he felt everywhere? How had it stilled the anxiety that constantly rippled under his skin? He’d never felt this before; normally, Katsuki abhorred unfamiliar, novel sensations. But he liked this feeling. Why did he like it?
Katsuki didn’t have answers and couldn’t say he was fond of that.
“Cappuc—”
Katsuki grunted, grabbing the mug from the barista. He took one firm inhale before turning and walking towards the table on a mission—he was going to get answers if it was the last thing he did.
Katsuki set the foamy beverage in front of Izuku, sliding it towards him.
Izuku reached towards the drink, murmuring ‘thank you,’ his fingers lightly brushing the gland on Katsuki’s wrist and—
Katsuki felt an arrow pierce his heart, and the world zoomed in on him and expanded simultaneously.
He saw a supercut of memories—running through the sprinklers in his backyard, licking a melting ice cream cone, cannonballing into a pool…
And then the scent, oh, fuck, the smells that came with the memories; fresh-cut grass, hose water, sweet cream, sunscreen…and, and… sin.
Pure, unadulterated, syrupy sin.
They both shot their eyes towards each other, Katsuki holding a growl inside his chest.
“Kat… Katsuki,” Izuku shuddered, his skin flushed, eyelids fluttering. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m… I think,” Izuku shut his eyes, biting his lip. He reached his hand under the table and groaned. “Ohhh, fuck, Alpha.”
A feral sound ripped past Katsuki’s lips.
“You’re going into,” he ground through his suddenly sensitive teeth, the burn on his skin spreading like a forest fire, “heat.”
Omega in heat, Alpha go in rut, his body commanded. Take him, fuck him, fill him.
If Katsuki weren’t rendered senseless because of his biology, he would’ve taken time to tell these primitive voices to fuck off and die. But instinct was currently telling his logic to go to hell.
Katsuki gripped the back of the chair to steady himself.
“Thought you weren’t supposed,” Katsuki puffed through his nose, knuckles going white, the wood of the chair splintering under his crushing grip; he wanted to rip Izuku’s clothes to shreds and take him on the table in between them—other coffee-shop goers, the fact they met five minutes ago, be damned. “To have your heat for three days.”
“I wasn’t, mmhn,” Izuku whined, locking his gaze through hooded eyes and long, delicious lashes, hand still rubbing underneath the table. “I don’t know what’s happen… hap… fuck, Katsuki.”
The way Izuku moaned his name so delectably indecently went straight to his throbbing cock, and was undoubtedly a criminal offense.
“Hey!” the barista shouted. “You need to get him out of here. You’re going to have Alphas going crazy with that scent.”
My Omega, his mind corrected, My scent.
What the fuck?
He shook his head and walked around the table, only managing a nondescript hiss towards the barista.
“My apartment is close,” Katsuki said under his breath, bending down.
“How—” Izuku squeaked as Katsuki lifted and cradled him; Izuku swatted at Katsuki’s chest. “Put me down! I am not a child! I may be in heat, but I am competent—” Katsuki’s body reacted on instinct to the scent—frustration, anger, annoyance—and rubbed his wrist on Izuku’s neck gland to calm his Omega. “Ahhh, mmm, Alpha.”
Katsuki kicked the door to the hallway where the elevator to his apartment connected to the cafe, removing his wrist from Izuku’s neck and jabbing the up button.
“Hey! What the biology fuck was that, you crazy Alpha! Put me down this instant, dammit!” Izuku resumed, flailing his limbs and pounding Katsuki’s pecs.
The elevator chimed and opened just in time. Katsuki wasn’t having this shit.
He stepped in, set the Omega down, pressed the button to his floor, and jammed the close button before spinning towards Izuku.
“Listen here, asshat,” Katsuki shouted, pointing his finger at Izuku. “I don’t know you, but I am helping you. Hit me one more time and see how long you live. I’m not the one putting off a fuck-me scent that every Alpha with a nose could smell for three miles,” Katsuki took the one stride that separated the two of them, pressing his finger to Izuku’s surprisingly firm chest, towering above him. “So calm the fuck down and… and…”
Katsuki’s mind short-circuited, words lost.
Every piece of reason in Katsuki’s was screaming at him to put distance between him and this Omega, that these circumstances weren’t what they were intended to be. They had only met within the last ten minutes, and everything that had happened in that short time was cataclysmic, defying any laws of common sense, science, and decency.
But that wasn’t the main reason Katsuki couldn’t pull away, the reason it felt as if physics itself was pulling him towards Izuku.
Rather than cower underneath Katsuki’s domineering presence, which pressed their bodies together and Izuku against the elevator wall, Izuku stood taller, straightening his shoulders. He stared at Katsuki unwaveringly, smirking and taunting him as if silently saying, "Try me, Alpha.”
The smell of slick, of pure, deadly lust thickened in the enclosed space they were in, their noses brushing.
“I don’t take kindly to being controlled,” Izuku’s lips said hotly against Katsuki’s. “Don’t do that again unless I give you permission.”
Katsuki shuddered a nod before he even registered that he was agreeing.
“Okay, good Alpha,” Izuku purred before rising on his toes to, ever so slightly, press his lips to Katsuki’s.
They were both suddenly in motion, their lips touching like nuclear energy, the effects atomic. Katsuki pressed Izuku further into the wall, bodies flush from head to toe, moaning into open-mouthed, wet kisses.
Izuku lifted a leg around Katsuki’s hip, giving him access to grind them together.
“Fuck,” Katsuki hissed, breaking their kiss. He slid his hands to cup Izuku’s ass, wanting their cocks closer. He pulled back to look at Izuku, fire in his eyes. “Do I have permission to lift you?”
Izuku leaned forward, licking Katsuki’s lip, whispering yes so gently into Katsuki’s open mouth he could have broken into tiny, unrepairable pieces. But he was supercharged, a pink bunny banging a drum; he felt more whole and alive than ever.
Katsuki lifted him, Izuku’s firm legs wrapping around him. Both of them used the position to push their erections against each other.
“How much farther is your apartment,” Izuku moaned, forehead pressing Katsuki's. “I need you.”
The elevator complied, reaching Katsuki’s floor, doors sliding open.
Katsuki grumbled deeply in his chest, quickly striding down the short hallway to his apartment; voices inside him threatened to tear him apart if he didn’t take care of his Omega soon. He pressed Izuku against the door, fumbling for the key in his pocket.
The goddamn bastard that was twisted around him wanted to make that impossible, laving his tongue slowly on Katsuki’s neck gland with a satisfied whine.
“God fucking dammit, you horny little shit!” Katsuki bellowed, his knees buckling from the searing pleasure that he felt down to the tips of his toes. He slammed the hand searching for his keys on the door to steady himself. “I will ravage you out here, mmm, in the fucking hallway if that’s how you want it. Otherwise, stop, ahh, that.”
Izuku placed one more wet kiss on the gland before lifting his lips to Katsuki’s ear.
“I hope that means you’ll still ravage me inside.”
Katsuki fought a groan as he finally got the key into the lock and walked them into his apartment. He slammed the door behind them, striding purposefully to his bedroom and throwing Izuku down to his mattress.
Under normal circumstances, Katsuki would’ve stopped to admire the minx of a man on his bed, propped up on his elbow with messy curls and tented pants that covered the salacious scent that dripped underneath.
But fuck that, these were not normal circumstances.
He snarled as he dove forward, ripping Izuku’s clothes off of him. The sound of the fabric tearing matched how out of control Katsuki felt. He pushed back to look at the nude, toned Omega sprawled on his sheets—legs open, cock almost purple from being so hard, slick visible from his hole and down his thighs, scent no longer restrained.
Fuck, that smell made Katsuki feel as if he was about to undergo fission and implode with pure need.
Katsuki dove down, shoving two fingers into the sopping hole. Izuku released a gargled moan along with endless whimpers of Yes, Alpha, and Don’t stop, Katsuki, as Katsuki scissored his fingers and licked and nipped at Izuku’s inner thighs.
“Mmm… Mid-dor—” Izuku panted, labored. “Midoriya.”
Katsuki froze, looking up at Izuku.
“The fuck?”
“That’s my last name,” Izuku exhaled. “Figured you should know it before you fuck me. What’s yours?”
Katsuki looked at the Omega incredulously. Was he seriously thinking about last names right now? Like Katsuki’s fingers weren’t in his asshole?
He pushed back purposefully to stand, his fingers making a noise as they slid out of Izuku. Katsuki quickly stripped, watching Izuku lick his lips, and his eyes widened as his considerable, hard cock became visible.
He crawled onto the bed between Izuku’s legs, hands framing the Omega’s face. He slid a hand down to his cock, lining it up with Izuku’s entrance.
“Bakugou,” he said, enunciating every syllable as he pushed his tip past the ring of tight muscles, watching Izuku tremble underneath him. Izuku’s hands slid down to palm Katsuki’s ass. “Katsuki Bakugou is going to fuck you now,” Katsuki paused, dipping down to kiss the Omega’s open mouth, both their eyes open, “if I have permission.”
“Permission granted,” Izuku replied hotly into Katsuki’s mouth. “Fuck me, now.”
It was all Katsuki needed to push in and pound relentlessly into the tight heat of Izuku. The sound of his hips slapping against Izuku’s ass and the breathy moans of the beautiful Omega filled the space around them, and it was unlike anything Katsuki had ever heard.
He slightly pushed up, lifting one of Izuku’s legs higher. The angle let Katsuki go deeper into Izuku, rubbing his prostate.
“God, fuck yes,” Izuku groaned loudly, his nails digging into Katsuki’s low back, their gazes locked firmly onto one another. “Just like that, filling me up so fucking good.”
Katsuki felt his knot starting to form, a fuse of something wonderfully ruinous inside him getting lit as his body began to shake from his impending orgasm.
“Izuku,” Katsuki begged through his teeth, which were grinding so hard against each other that it was a wonder they weren't cracking.
“Mmm, fuck fuck fuck, gonna come,” Izuku nearly shouted, eyes piercing into Katsuki as he said words that made him denote. “Knot me, Alpha, fill me.”
Katsuki screamed something as he felt Izuku clench around him and shoot semen between them, the sweetest ecstasy surging through his veins. His knot locked into Izuku, pumping him to the brim, and Katsuki collapsed.
In their post-orgasmic haze, they sloppily kissed until they became too tired, and Katsuki snuggled into the crook of Izuku’s neck. Izuku slowly sifted his fingers through Katsuki’s sweaty hair, sleepily murmuring words of praise—good Alpha, such a big knot, make your Omega feel so good—as he began to drift out of consciousness, snuggled up and knotted with this stranger.
But if Izuku was a stranger, why did he smell of Katsuki’s past—roasting marshmallows at summer camp, sunflower seeds in a baseball dugout, the plastic of a new Lego set?
If Izuku was such a stranger, why did he smell like nostalgia?