Chapter Text
“Do you smell that?”
Huffing, Katsuki rolled onto his back and curled his head tighter into his body to drown out his mate.
“Katsuki, Katsuki, don’t you smell that?”
“I can’t smell things when I’m sleeping,” Katsuki snapped.
A cool, scaly claw poked gently at his side, and Katsuki unfurled to bare his teeth at the offender.
“What the fuck, Eiji? Just ‘cause you’re nocturnal doesn’t mean you gotta drag me into it, too.”
“C’mon!” Eijirou begged, large slitted eyes widening in a reptile’s closest approximation of a pout. “You gotta be able to smell that.”
Katsuki stood. He shook out his body from his large head to the tip of his tail, unfurling his wings as he did so. Pointedly glaring at Eijirou, his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.
Oh.
“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier,” Katsuki growled, already slinking to the mouth of their cave with Eijirou right on his heels.
“I tried, lov’eka , but you sleep like the dead.”
“Should’ve tried harder.”
Eijirou just whacked him with his tail.
Katsuki and Eijirou stopped shoulder-to-shoulder at the mouth of their cave. Below them, the ledge dropped off into a sheer cliff face impossible to scale without wings or long claws.
Katsuki felt the tense muscles of his partner pressed against his own lithe body as their sharp eyes scanned the forest in front of them.
“I don’t see anything,” Eijirou huffed, tapping one clawed foot anxiously.
“Our noses don’t lie. Someone’s here. Let’s go.”
Katsuki spread his wings wide and nearly smacked Eijirou in the process. He stepped from the rocky outcropping and dropped. He let his wings catch him just as he hit the canopy of the dense forest, shifting to his smaller bipedal form to fit between the trees. Like this, with his body akin to a human’s, he could no longer smell the intruder, but his ears were still keen enough to hear faint shuffling deeper into the woods.
Eijirou joined him a moment later, sinking into a crouch as he fell next to Katsuki. Like this, his scales had receded to crowd around his red, slitted eyes, leaving soft pale flesh in their wake. The points of his fangs remained even in his bipedal form, sharp enough to cut through bone of their prey.
Next to Katsuki, whose tall horns clearly signified his prowess and strength as a fighter, they’d easily scare off the fool wandering through their territory. Maybe even too easily. Katsuki kind of wanted a fight .
A twig snapped deeper in the forest, and after a quick glance, they both moved forward on the balls of their feet, taking care to step into the soft spaces of dirt between broken branches and gnarled tree roots. The intruder was obviously unaware he was being hunted, and they would like to keep it that way. Either that, or he was doing a poor job of disguising his presence.
Finally, they saw a flicker of light moving steadily between the trees. It cast shades of yellows and oranges across the forest floor, like the hungry flames of a small fire. It seemed odd, though, for this stranger to need a torch to light his way. Most dragons—for the intruder scented metallic enough to mean it could only be another dragon—wouldn’t have need for an artificial light source. Even in their bipedal forms, their reflective eyes were built to see clearly at night.
Both Katsuki and Eijirou slowed, creeping silently toward the light. As they grew nearer, Katsuki’s ears picked up on a faint, steady sound, reminiscent of a burbling stream. Except there were no streams in this immediate area, and the sound fluctuated too often, fading in and out, rising and falling in pitch.
It was the intruder, mumbling under his breath.
Even close enough to smell him again, the muttering was too soft to pick up on any words. Closer, closer, there he was .
The intruder was bipedal. He was shorter than Katsuki and Eijirou, but Katsuki could see the flow of muscle beneath his plain, white tunic. His hands grasped a staff of gnarled wood, curled into a loose spiral on its top, where a silver bell hung from the end without ringing despite swaying with every step. A small sun of light glowed a few steps in front of the intruder. It cast the path ahead of him into visibility and the surrounding forest floor into dark shadows, perfect for Katsuki and Eijirou to duck into, blending seamlessly into the darkness.
Gently enough to not make a sound, Eijirou knocked his pointed horns into Katsuki’s. Katsuki understood his silent message: look at his horns.
A dragon’s horns were the easiest way to distinguish them. Katsuki and Eijirou’s large, straight horns denoted their Igneous heritage, strong dragons built with thick hides resistant to scorching heat and proficient in the manipulation of fire. The intruder’s horns protruded from his temples, cuffed at their roots by bands of silver metal engraved with unfamiliar runes. They were thin and spindly like the antlers of deer that flock through the forest, but the splintered branches of them were too jagged to truly belong to a prey animal. They wrapped close to his curly green hair, running along the sides of his head rather than rising vertically. They gave the appearance of a crown of spiked lightning.
A Lichten dragon.
They were rare. And strong . Powerful beasts born of monsoons and hurricanes and thunder. To find one here, in Katsuki’s territory where the weather was dry and moderate was abnormal to say the least. It made his hackles rise.
Eijirou must have reached the same conclusion, sinking lower to the ground beside Katsuki with muscles tensed and teeth bared. This intruder infringed on the territory of two mated dragons. By his heritage alone, he would be a strong and powerful opponent, but it was a dragon’s natural right to defend what was theirs.
Katsuki nodded, and Eijirou lunged.
Everything happened almost too quickly for Katsuki to follow.
He had been so sure that the intruder was unaware of their presence, but the moment Eijirou burst from the foliage, he spun around as if prepared for their attack. With Eijirou airborne from his leap, the intruder pressed the bottom end of his staff into the dirt and carved a half circle separating himself from his attacker.
Eijirou twisted away too late. As he passed over the line, a translucent green barrier appeared in his path, sparking with crackling electricity. Smacking into it, Eijirou twitched and then fell to the ground.
Immediately, Katsuki vaulted above him to shield Eijirou’s body with his own, fangs bared at the intruder while his gaze locked onto his stunned mate. Eijirou didn’t seem injured, just dazed as he stared blankly at the intruder.
Then, Eijirou whispered, “Katsuki, look ,” and Katsuki did.
Only to fall into the depths of electric eyes, brighter than any lightning of a summer storm.
Oh. Oh, Lov’eka.
Eijirou called it soulmates. Katsuki called it instinct. But this feeling, the way his entire being sang with the overwhelming, raw sense of completion when he looked into this stranger’s eyes, he’d felt it only once before, when he met Eijirou and knew that this was the person he was meant for, just as they were meant for him.
“Shift,” Katsuki commanded impatiently. If this was happening, then they were going to do it right . When he and Eijirou met, they had performed the ritualistic dance of lov’ekan in the starlit sky that same night and solidified their bond. Surely, it would be the same tonight.
The intruder—no, not ‘intruder,’ not anymore, he wasn’t intruding, he belonged here—stumbled backward and stammered, “Oh, oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t know this territory was already established! I meant no harm in coming here, and I really wasn’t looking for any kind of fight. I’m just passing through. I can be gone by the end of the night.”
Eijirou whined, and Katsuki almost joined in. Gone? Why would he leave ? Leave them and their connection?
It had to be because his instincts were dulled in his bipedal state. Maybe Lichten dragons were weaker than the normal dragon this way, and that was why he couldn’t sense it.
So, Katsuki stepped closer. “Shift,” he repeated, hoping that the return to their natural form would solidify this instinctive connection from all ends.
Paling, the stranger—no, that was wrong too, they needed a name —shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Kirishima repeated, and the other nodded.
“I can’t.”
Katsuki cursed. Only the weakest bloodlines of dragons were permanently reduced to their bipedal state, denied their ancient form. The Shiftless were fundamentally weaker and not just due to their inability to shift into large, intimidating beasts of legend. They even lost the animalistic tendencies that would usually be retained in the bipedal form—the night vision and the heightened hearing, for example—and their vestigial draconic features were typically stunted. If he weren’t Shiftless, Katsuki could only imagine how large the Lichten’s horns would be, branching from his head like stunning fragments of pointed lightning.
The biggest problem, though, was that the Shiftless did not share the base instincts of other dragons. When Katsuki and Eijirou looked at this stranger, every part of their body flared with a sudden warm feeling of completion. They recognized right away that this dragon was a perfect match for them, in mind, body and soul. He was their lov’eka, and they were his, just as Katsuki and Eijirou were each other’s.
For the Shiftless, this sense of completion was not instinctively requited.
Katsuki glanced at Eijirou, who looked clearly panicked as he stood. When they made eye contact, though, his eyes hardened resolutely.
Good. They were in agreement then.
With his mate’s support, Katsuki turned back to the wary newcomer. “You’re not leaving.”
The other dragon paled, and Katsuki belatedly realized that his words could be misconstrued as a threat.
Luckily, Eijirou moved to stand in front of him and recovered, “What he meant is that you shouldn’t be wandering around the woods by yourself at night!”
Now offended, the newcomer bristled and bared relatively large fangs. “I can take care of myself.”
Katsuki scoffed—“Sure you can, Deku,”—which only served to rile the other up further, while Eijirou hissed for him to shut up.
To most dragons, ‘Deku’ was an insult. It usually meant useless, or weak, or pathetic. For their proud species, to question someone’s strength would typically be taken with great offense. To some, it would be a declaration of war.
For Igneous dragons, it was different. Calling someone ‘Deku’ still alluded to a difference in strength, but it wasn’t with the intention of disrespect like it would be for most subspecies of dragon. Instead, it was often used as a term of endearment, for children, the elderly, or more commonly, for mated pairs. More so, ‘Deku’ acted as a promise, of sorts. It acknowledged that the dragon being addressed might be weaker, but by extension, the speaker was therefore stronger, and as such, would protect ‘Deku’ from anything that might hurt them.
So, while Katsuki believed the Shiftless dragon to be weaker than him, his use of ‘Deku’ was an assurance that he would protect the other when he couldn’t protect himself.
Of course, the other dragon obviously didn’t see it the same way, narrowing his eyes and straightening his back. “I’m not ‘Deku,’” he snapped, and Katsuki found himself slightly entranced by the reflected arcs of light in his eyes. “I’m Izuku. And I really should be going.”
Izuku, Izuku, Izuku. As Izuku turned away, Eijirou and Katsuki glanced at one another briefly with matching expressions of excitement and glee. They got a name.
“Wait, wait,” Eijirou begged, hopping around Izuku before he could stalk away and blocking his path. “He didn’t mean anything by it, promise! Katsuki’s just a little rough, but you’ll learn to love it.” Out of Izuku’s sight, Katsuki snapped his teeth at Eijirou testily, inadvertently proving his point, but his mate just grinned. “Either way, though, there’s no reason to be wandering around at night when we have a nice warm den just up the cliff there, right? Why don’t you stay the night there!”
Katsuki wanted to growl that Izuku should stay more than a night, but he managed to keep his mouth clamped shut. He didn’t want to scare their new mate away.
Izuku squeaked at the offer, ducking his head shyly to hide his eyes beneath wild curls and the branches of his antlers. “Y-your den? I couldn’t possibly—”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Katsuki grunted, even though by all accounts it was a big deal. Dragons were traditionally territorial of their dens, which were usually shared only by mated groups. Allowing another dragon into your private domain like that was a huge sign of trust that was usually only shared with close clanmates. Mated Igneous dragons inviting a near stranger into their den was almost entirely unheard of.
Inviting a future mate, like Izuku, though, felt right .
“It won’t be a problem at all,” Eijirou assured, eyes and grin wide in a way Katsuki recognized as pleading. His instincts were probably aching to welcome their new mate into their den just as Katsuki’s were. “Don’t worry about intruding or offending us or anything. We’d much rather offer you someplace to stay than have you wander here alone.”
Izuku dithered, clearly hesitant to accept the offer. He kept eyeing Katsuki with attentive eyes, as if he expected the hospitality to be some kind of trick. Which was fair, if Katsuki was honest with himself. He knew that he’d never harm his lov’eka —even if Izuku wasn’t officially his yet—but Izuku wouldn’t recognize Katsuki’s instinctual need to care for him if he couldn’t reciprocate the bond. He wouldn’t know that the offer is born more of selfishness than anything else—Katsuki and Eijirou’s desire to keep their mate safe, close, and protected.
But Izuku didn’t know that, and it wasn’t surprising when he finally shook his head and said, “I really should continue. . . . I appreciate your, uh, hospitality greatly, but I don’t have the time to rest for the night. I swear to be out of your territory by sunrise, though.”
Maybe it wasn’t surprising, but it was definitely disappointing. And Katsuki wouldn’t accept his refusal as an answer. Not when it meant his unofficial mate would leave his sight, potentially forever. “What’s so important that you can’t even take the time to rest?”
Izuku took a moment, eyes narrowed, to watch the both of them suspiciously. Surprisingly, Katsuki found the analytical gaze somewhat intimidating, even when coming from a Shiftless dragon. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he found his shoulders hunching, just slightly, to make himself look less like a threat. More trustworthy. Eijirou, of course, already looked genuinely earnest, body language open and vulnerable.
Izuku must decide that their question wasn’t ill-intended, because he finally answered, “I’m searching for a new place for my clan to settle. Our last home was . . . compromised. It’s not safe there anymore.”
Katsuki could read between the lines. Izuku’s clan had been attacked, in some way, and they needed to relocate. He wondered how many were in his group, if any were injured, and why they would send their Shiftless member as an apparent scout for new territory. Though he had a feeling these questions would be received as invasive and perceived as him trying to ascertain Izuku’s clan’s vulnerabilities.
Eijirou chuffed eagerly. “We know a place! It’s nearby!”
“Really?” Katsuki and Izuku asked at the same time, Katsuki’s brow wrinkled and Izuku’s eyes round with hopeful surprise.
Eijirou nodded. “Yeah! It’s that clearing by the cliffs a little further down, where the river runs into a waterfall! I don’t know how big your clan is, or what Lichten dragons need, but I do know that this area is pretty safe, especially with Katsuki and I around to guard it. We can show you tomorrow!”
“T-tomorrow? Why not just show me tonight? So I can leave your territory and be out of your way?”
Katsuki groaned. “The clearing is still our territory, Deku.” He ignored Izuku’s indignant huff at the term. “Listen, is your clan somewhere safe for the night?”
Somewhat reluctantly, Izuku nodded.
“Great!” Eijirou cheered, stepping further into Izuku’s personal space even when he curled himself away. “Then there’s no rush, right? C’mon, we’ll show you our den. I think you can even see the clearing from there, actually!”
And Eijirou darted into the woods, too enthusiastic to even confirm that the other two were following behind.
Katsuki hung back for a moment, watching Izuku make his decision. Finally, those lightning-green eyes clashed with his. “Is it really okay for me to visit your den?”
Katsuki scoffed. “If my mate says it’s fine, then it’s fine.” He didn’t mention that Izuku effectively belonged there as much as he or Eijirou did. Instead, he added, “Consider yourself lucky, Deku. Not everyone deserves to enter our den.”
He thought he heard Izuku mutter, “If I’m so special then why call me Deku ?”, but the other still followed behind Katsuki obediently as he led them through the woods and toward the cliff face.
Normally, when he or Eijirou ventured into the woods, they would return to their cave via flight. After all, the cliffs were too steep to scale, and there was no natural path leading to the entrance of their den. But the presence of Izuku meant that they couldn’t simply climb to the top branch of the nearest tree, jump, and shift quickly to launch themselves into the sky. With the trees being too condensed in the center of the woods, they needed to walk to the outskirts first, so they could shift on the ground and allow Izuku onto one of their backs to reach the den.
Riding the back of a shifted dragon was another custom reserved only for trusted companions. The nape of a Dragon’s neck, in most species, was one of the only places without a protective covering of thick scales, making it sensitive to any kind of touch and any kind of damage. Allowing someone, particularly a stranger, so close to such an obvious weakness was an incredible vulnerability.
Imagining Izuku, sitting so close to that spot, close enough to touch, sent a shiver down Katsuki’s spine.
Eijirou, of course, was already waiting for them at the base of the cliff, a couple hundred meters below the opening that led into their den. As Katsuki and Izuku approached, he seemed to vibrate with excitement and pointed upward. “The den is just right up there! There’s no path, but Katsuki and I can shift, and one of us can take you up there!” He grinned at Izuku expectantly, and Katsuki realized that, between the two of them, Eijirou was more approachable, and Izuku would almost certainly choose to go up with him rather than Katsuki. He only barely managed to suppress his scowl of disappointment.
It was fine. Katsuki just had to wait it out and prove himself worthy of Izuku’s trust. He could do that. Eijirou always said his standoffish personality was endearing, so of course Izuku would think the same.
Amusingly, Izuku burned red at Eijirou’s offer, knowing that riding a shifted dragon was just as intimate as being invited into their den. He shook his head, stammering, “Oh, that won’t—that really won’t be necessary!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “The only way up is to fly, Deku. And unless you got a pair of wings hiding, then the only way up is with one of us.” Eijirou nodded along helpfully.
“No, no, I’m good! I can just . . .” he trailed off to stare intently at the staff in his hands. He ran his fingers over one of the intricate carvings on the wood, and the rune began to crackle with green light, the same shade as the color sparking in Izuku’s eyes. As he did so, the thin bands of metal welded around his horns glowed as well, and Katsuki and Eijirou watched in surprised amazement as Izuku’s deft fingers began to elongate, curling and thickening with emerald scales and tipped with long, sharp claws. A perfect recreation of a shifted dragon’s forelimb.
Just as the scales began to creep up to Izuku’s elbow, he removed his touch from the rune, and the glow stopped. He flexed his fingers and rolled his wrist like he was waking a limb that had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. And then, he suddenly smacked his hand into the cliff face, and his claws sunk deep into the stone.
Apparently satisfied, Izuku turned to Katsuki and Eijirou, who watched the display of magic with lax jaws, and grinned cheerily.
“I can just climb up!”
Izuku did indeed climb up, and Eijirou was amazed.
He couldn’t believe just how lucky he was. When he’d met Katsuki, Eijirou had already felt blessed, to have a soulmate as strong, as confident, as beautiful as Katsuki. And now he had Izuku, who he had only known for less than a night, but Eijirou was already besotted.
Even if instinct didn’t scream at him, shoving him at Izuku and declaring that he was Eijirou’s lov’eka, important and precious and something he needed to treasure. . . . Even then, he was sure that Izuku would have enraptured him, and if his mate’s dumbstruck expression at their introduction told him anything, he was sure that Katsuki felt the same way.
How could he not? When Izuku, despite being Shiftless, had managed to master powerful magic that he could replicate dragon’s claws, sturdy enough to dig into solid rock and support his weight as he scaled the cliff. And he was strong enough that he didn’t even seem to struggle with the climb, his shoulders rippling beneath the thin cotton of his tunic whenever he hauled himself up with just one arm and dug his other clawed hand into the rock.
For half of his climb, Eijirou and Katsuki only watched from below, utterly entranced.
At least until Izuku looked down below himself curiously. “Uh, are you guys. . . .” With only one hand grasping the rock, he used the other to gesture to the den above him.
Eijirou could only nod dumbly, too busy staring at his beautiful biceps to form a coherent thought.
Luckily, Katsuki was apparently more put-together, and he nudged Eijirou to recollect his bearings. Together, they moved to an area with enough space between the trees and shifted.
Eijirou loved the feeling of shifting, like his true self broke through the confines of his bipedal form to reveal thick crimson scales covering flexing muscle. Spines jutted from behind his head and the end of his jawline in a mane of solid, shining keratin, and his teeth multiplied into several rows of deadly white. His claws carved divots into the dirt he stood on, and his tail snapped harshly into Katsuki’s side as Eijirou stretched. Like this, he felt stronger, more powerful, worthy to stand beside another dragon like Katsuki.
Now, it made him feel strong enough to protect Izuku.
Once he was fully shifted, Eijirou preened. He spread his wings upward, filled his chest with warm air, and stretched his neck so that his head rested at its full height. He hoped that his new mate would be impressed by him in this form, even if he couldn’t feel the instinctual draw of being lov’eka. He’d probably be enamoured with Katsuki’s appearance too, considering that like this, he was nearly identical to Eijirou, just slightly smaller, more lithely muscled, and a solid matte black. But when Eijirou looked up, Izuku didn’t spare him, or Katsuki, so much as a glance. He just continued climbing.
Eijirou deflated, disappointed, but Katsuki wouldn’t let Izuku’s nonchalance stand. Huffing a breath—hot enough that smoke curled from between his teeth—Katsuki shot into the air, beating his powerful wings to rise quickly and meet Izuku’s height in only a second.
Then, he reached out a clawed foot, surprisingly delicately, and snatched Izuku from the side of the cliff.
Eijirou yelped, launching into the sky himself even though he knew that he wouldn’t catch Katsuki and that the damage had already been done. They were supposed to be impressing Izuku and showing themselves off as good prospective mates. While Katsuki might have been offended by Izuku’s lack of interest in their appearance, grabbing him like that when he was already so skittish around them wouldn’t do much to help their chances.
Except, when Eijirou landed on the small outcropping of rock outside their den, Izuku wasn’t cowering bashfully from Katsuki. Instead, his chin was held high, and a sharp claw was pointing admonishingly in Katsuki’s reptilian face. “—didn’t need your help!” he shouted, and Katsuki watched Izuku’s indignant tantrum indifferently. “I was doing just fine on my own!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes before shifting—Eijirou knew that he thought it looked cooler to do as a dragon than a biped—and scoffed, “You were going too slow. Why would I wait for you when I could get us up much faster?”
Of course, the real reason was that Katsuki felt petty about not having Izuku’s full attention, and Eijirou knew it. He wouldn’t comment on it though, for his mate’s sake.
Eijirou shifted back as well, even though it felt somewhat unnatural to be bipedal in his own den. He was willing to do it for Izuku’s comfort though, since they couldn’t communicate otherwise, and he expected he’d feel more at ease to not be standing below the sharp-toothed maw of a large dragon like Eijirou.
Surprisingly, Izuku’s demeanor didn’t relax, or really change at all, when Eijirou shifted to be at his level. Perhaps the taut line to his shoulders, indicating stress, had little to do with being a Shiftless surrounded by powerful shifted dragons.
Eijirou smiled, as kindly as he could manage with teeth like his own, and hoped it would put Izuku a little more at ease. “Katsuki’s just an impatient grump,” he assured him. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend.”
Katsuki sighed, but nodded reluctantly without meeting Izuku’s gaze.
Understanding that was the closest they’d get to an apology, Eijirou grabbed Katsuki by his hand to tug him into the cave entrance. He really wanted to grab Izuku, to introduce his future mate to their den and show off their nest, but he probably couldn’t afford to be pushy right now.
When he didn’t hear Izuku’s steps behind them, Eijirou turned to look at him over the shoulder to find him hovering at the cave’s entrance. “C’mon in!”
Even still, Izuku hesitated. His eyes roamed Eijirou’s face, and then Katsuki’s like he was looking for any sign of deception or an indication that he was about to commit a social faux pas. He must decide that they were sincere, though—which they were—because he finally dipped his head in an overly-polite bow and yelped, “Th-thank you for having me!”
Which was entirely unnecessary for their lov’eka, but Izuku wouldn’t know that.
Eagerly, Eijirou led him to he and Katsuki’s nest, and his heart pounded erratically with the hope that Izuku would be pleased with it. Katsuki, too, stared at the nest, hyper-analyzing it for any mistakes that could be fixed before Izuku could notice, but Eijirou felt confident that the nest appeared pristine. Katsuki was a perfectionist, after all, and wouldn’t let anything be out of sorts.
Just under his breath, Katsuki muttered, “We don’t have the courting stuff,” and Eijirou patted his shoulder soothingly.
Normally, when presenting a nest to a potential mate, it would be adorned with beaded necklaces and carved bones, trinkets to be gifted to celebrate a successful courtship. But they hadn’t had the time for these things, not now. It would just have to come later.
Izuku came up behind them, and Eijirou turned, eager to see his reaction to their nest. But Izuku, upon laying his gaze on the carefully-arranged pile of warm furs, only blushed and immediately skirted his eyes away shyly. “Where, uh . . . Thank you very much for having me for the night. It’s very kind of you. Where may I rest?”
Katsuki growled, too softly to be anything more aggressive than mild frustration. “Something wrong with our nest, Deku?”
“No, no, of course not! But, it is . . . yours? I don’t wish to intrude.”
“You are welcome in our nest, Izuku,” Eijirou told him emphatically. He made sure to wait for Izuku to meet his gaze in hopes that would convey the full extent of his meaning.
This time, when Izuku’s cheeks darkened, Eijirou happily counted it as a victory.
“Sharing nests . . .” Izuku shifted, dubiously. “Does it have a different significance for Igneous dragons such as yourselves? For my clan, and others I have met, it’s reserved for, well . . .”
“Mates? Nah, it means the same thing for us,” Katsuki declared and grinned handsomely when Izuku’s face reddened even further. Eijirou prayed that their blunt confidence wasn’t ill-received. “You can even take the center, Deku.”
Katsuki cackled at Izuku’s stunned face and slipped his hand from Eijirou’s to step into their nest, shifting once he entered to curl around the edge of it protectively. A dragon prepared to protect his hoard.
Izuku was obviously floored by the sudden declaration, red-faced and stammering incoherently as Katsuki, unbothered, made himself comfortable. Eijirou, panicking a bit, waved generally in Katsuki’s direction.
“Don’t worry about him!” Eijirou rushed, even though he’s reiterated that same statement several times already.
They had just gotten Izuku into their den! They couldn’t afford to scare him away now! “He’s just, uh, impatient! We don’t mean to push or anything! You can sleep somewhere else if you want. We’ll take some of the furs from the nest and make something comfortable for you! No problem.”
Katsuki grumbled discontentedly, but Eijirou cut him off with a sharp glare. If Izuku didn’t feel the instinctual pull, then moving too quickly or pushing too far would only serve to scare him away. It wasn’t a risk Eijirou wished to take.
With his face nearing a shade similar to Katsuki’s crimson scales, Izuku shook his head. “No, uh, I don’t mind! Your nest looks really, um, really comfortable”—Eijirou’s chest puffed and Katsuki hummed something that sounded like a happy croon, because their lov’eka liked their nest —“and I wouldn’t want to disturb it. As long as you’re both actually okay with that, of course! I really don’t want to intrude or anything!”
Too gleeful to really contain himself, Eijirou bounced in place. If he were in his larger form, his tail would undoubtedly be curling with his contentment. “We wouldn’t have offered if we minded! C’mon, c’mon, I promise it’s just as comfy as it looks.”
Eijirou wrapped his hand around Izuku’s wrist, thankfully retaining enough thought in his enthusiasm to loosen his grip at Izuku’s startled yelp. He wasn’t sure if Izuku’s agreement to share their nest was an official acceptance of their courting, or if it was simply borne of his desire to be as intrusive as possible in their home, but Eijirou didn’t want to risk pushing too far if the latter was the case.
He shoved Izuku into the nest— their nest—and ignored Katsuki’s pleased rumbling at the sight of Izuku cushioned by the furs of their nest. It filled Eijirou with pride too, and his chest warmed when Izuku, still blushing furiously, pulled the soft pelt of a bear over his shoulders. He’d hunted and skinned that fur himself, after all.
Feeling happy enough to burst, Eijirou shifted into his larger reptilian form and carefully laid to circle the nest opposite of Katsuki’s side. He tried to give Izuku plenty of space in the center, made easy by his comparably small stature in the massive nest, and settled his head so that one eye rested on Izuku while the other still kept the cave entrance in sight. He’d keep an eye on his new mate, small and vulnerable in their nest. He’d keep him safe.
Izuku continued to wrap himself in the soft furs, and Katsuki attempted to take advantage of his distraction to lean his snout close to Izuku’s head with the obvious intention to rub their antlers together. Luckily, Eijirou noticed before Izuku could, and used his long tail to swat at Katsuki’s flank, reprimanding him for pushing Izuku’s boundaries too quickly. Katsuki rolled his eyes, but pulled his head away to lie nose-to-nose with Eijirou. Together, they formed a protective boundary along the edges of the nest with Izuku shielded safely in the center, and they slept.
