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Shoto turns as he passes through the door of his apartment building, narrowly avoiding clipping shoulders with the person who is on their way out. They turn to him with a greeting on their lips, but before their eyes can meet, Shoto sees the way their nostrils flare at his scent. His neighbour drops their gaze and puts more space between them instantly. Normally, Shoto might be upset by such behaviour – anyone showing obvious deference to him, just because he’s an alpha – but right now he doesn’t care enough to think about it. All he wants now – all his inner alpha wants too – is to find his mate and wrap himself around the sweet rainforest-scented little omega and protect him from the rest of the world.
He makes it up the stairs to their apartment and the lingering, familiar scent of home is like a marked trail on the floor in-amongst all the other scents of the people who live here. Shoto forces himself to stop at their door and take out his key. It takes several practised, measured breaths before Shoto can stop the tremble in his hands enough to be sure he will get the key in the lock on the first try – the last thing he needs is to upset the beast in the back of his mind by failing at something simple – and then he slams his shoulders into the door the moment it closes behind him.
Home. Safe. His territory. Their den.
“I’m home.” He doesn’t need to call out, he was hardly quiet when he closed the door, but it soothes his alpha instincts to announce himself. Just the same as flipping the lock on the door behind him feels better too. “Izuku?”
For a moment, everything is still, and then the beast pacing in Shoto’s hindbrain lunges forward and shreds his self-control.
He tears through the den, socked feet skidding across the hardwood flooring of the hall and kitchen and then the tatami mats in the rest of the apartment, slamming into doorways, clipping his hip on the bookcase in their shared office-slash-display room which holds some of Izuku's vast collection of hero fanzines, official partnership light novels, and biographies. The pain doesn’t matter, because his heart is pounding against his ribs and his vision is sharp in the centre and blurry with yellow-tinted distress at the edges, because-
Izuku is not there.
Omega gone. Omega in danger. Needomegaprotectomega, where-
It takes all of Shoto’s well-honed self-control – decades of training with his quirk, years of learning the best ways to placate and leash his alpha instincts – to clamp down on the spiralling panic coursing through his mind and just breathe. He checks the clock on the wall and finds that he walked back from his agency very quickly indeed. It is not worrisome that Izuku is not home yet, and Japan’s fastest rising Pro-Hero does not need protecting as he walks home from work.
And yet-
Where is our omega? We need him! Need omega, here, now-
This time, it’s harder to stop the roiling, unpleasant snake of worry and fear which spikes through him, but Shoto manages, and sets about making their den feel more homely and comfortable. It is far better to think on how delighted Izuku will be to find his tea hot and ready, the lights on, music playing softly, a blanket on the couch, than it is to think about the fact that-
Omega abandoned us. Bad alpha, no good-
Shoto growls, and at that same moment he hears the familiar thud of Izuku’s footfalls approaching the door. He yanks it open before the omega can even touch the lock with his key, and hauls his mate across the threshold and into his embrace.
“Sho-!” Izuku gasps in surprise, but Shoto simply buries his face in the mossy green curls of Izuku’s hair and clings onto him as hard as he can. “You’re home early! You’re-” Shoto can feel and hear the way Izuku inhales, and the omega’s scent cycles through confusion and concern and lust until it returns back to his usual soft, living-fern, wet-leafed tones, laced with understanding. “You’re in rut.”
“Missed you.”
“I missed you too, Sho.” Izuku waits calmly in the circle of Shoto’s arms, breathing softly, but when Shoto makes no move to step away, the omega’s hands push at him gently. “Can I get changed now?”
“No. Stay with me.” Shoto knows he is being unreasonable, but his instincts cannot bear the idea of letting go of his mate right now.
“OK, I’m not going anywhere.” Izuku snuggles deeper into his hold, face pressing into Shoto’s clavicle, moving so that his scent gland drags across Shoto’s chest. Shoto wants to pull Izuku up so they can scent each other properly, blend that rich dark forest scent with the icy tang of his own pheromones. “Sho… my feet hurt.”
Shoto’s eyes go wide.
Omega not comfortable! Help omega now, provide, carry, protect-!
“Let’s get you changed,” Shoto manages to say, his voice sounding worn and cracked in his own ears. Trying to organise his words not to just echoing everything his inner-alpha is saying takes a lot of energy. He scoops Izuku into his arms, and his mate trills – high and happy – and nuzzles against his chest again. Shoto chuffs.
Truthfully, his rut did not sneak up on him, and Shoto knows that when he stops taking his suppressants – one week off every six months like clockwork – he has two safe days before his rut hits and he can’t bear to leave the safety of their den. But the digital paperwork has been mounting up in his inbox and there are only so many hours in a day. Shoto was sure he could just get a little bit overtime out of the way and clear his virtual desk before his instincts made everything difficult. He was lucky not to run into any delays on the way home.
Shoto places his mate reverently on their bed, then drops to his knees to start peeling Izuku from his shoes and socks. Izuku chuckles at him softly – a little huffed noise of pleasure and silliness – and wriggles out of the sweats he wore home from the office. Shoto loves all of his mate, every inch and scar and freckle, but now without his clothes Izuku’s scent seems to increase tenfold, and Shoto’s alpha instincts surge forward along with his body to pin his mate to mattress as he begins to nuzzle him all over.
“Having fun, Sho?”
“Smell good,” Shoto manages, pressing his nose into the junction between Izuku’s arm and chest where the soft, sweet musk of the man he loves is the strongest. “My beautiful Izuku…”
“Aww, thanks baby.” Izuku’s spine curls until he can press half a kiss to Shoto’s split-colour hair. “Maybe I could put on clothes now though?”
No clothes. Omega should smell like us.
Shoto tries to bite back the rumbling growl of his alpha voice, but before he can even really make a noise, Izuku drags the scent gland on his wrist over the one on Shoto’s neck, and Shoto goes lax and heavy over the top of him.
It’s like the opposite of sparks and fire and explosions: Izuku’s forest scent and his own glacial tang combine and smooth out into something warm and earthy and good – like chocolate cake and green tea – and Shoto cannot help but sink into it. Unconsciously, he finds Izuku’s other wrist with his own and swipes those glands over each other too, sealing and reaffirming their bond until the pacing beast in the back of his mind quietens and lays still once more.
“How was your day?” Shoto asks when he finally trusts himself to speak.
“Pretty good. It was actually really nice to get out on patrol with a couple of the interns. They seem so young though – I can’t believe that was us a few years ago! Our patrol overlapped with Kirishima-kun’s for like a minute, so we had a tiny catch up, and of course people wanted pictures of us. We should invite them for dinner or something soon.”
Shoto mumbles wordlessly. It’s not that he doesn’t like seeing their friends, but the entire concept of inviting other people into their territory right now makes his hackles rise.
“Yes, yes, not now. I know.” Izuku drags strong fingers through Shoto’s hair in a soothing pet. “Can I get dressed now please, Alpha?”
Shoto glances up at his mate, pillowing his chin on Izuku's sternum to meet those lovely emerald eyes. Izuku smells happy, content, claimed. Shoto offers him a small smile.
“Will you wear my clothes?”
“Can I?!” Izuku practical bounces them both from the bed is his excitement, as though Shoto doesn’t let him borrow whatever he wants whenever he wants. “I want that big black sweater you had on the other day. It’s so soft!”
Shoto sighs happily as he watches his mate dance away across the room to their closet and pull out the sweater in question. Izuku might be stacked with muscle, but he’s still little, and he drowns in Shoto’s clothes. Shoto loves it that way. Now his beautiful omega is covered in him and is scent even though he’s across the room.
Not that he likes the idea of Izuku being across the room. Or leaving the room. Where is he going?
Shoto springs up from the bed like a man possessed and smacks the bathroom door to stop it from closing, sending it slamming back into the wall. He winces, knowing that he almost certainly dented the plasterboard with the force.
Izuku arches an eyebrow at him.
“Yes baby?”
“I- um-”
“I’m just going to the bathroom.” Izuku strokes the back of Shoto’s knuckles where they are curved around the door frame. “Which I know you can see, because I am in the bathroom. Everything OK sweetheart?”
“Yeah, yeah… everything is fine. Sorry.”
Shoto takes a step back from the door, but the moment Izuku moves to close it, his alpha instincts rake vicious claws through his mind.
“NO! You er... can’t close the door.”
“Sho… I have to pee.”
Protect omega! Our omega!
“But, but… I have to protect you.” Shoto knows how ridiculous it sounds, but he can’t help it. He can smell himself, and so can Izuku, and there is no denying the sudden, cold spike of fear which lances through him when Izuku moves to close the door again.
“Sweetheart… I love you, but rut or not, you are not watching me use the toilet.”
No, no, no! Omega must not leave!
“I have to protect you!”
“From what?” Izuku tone is harder now, sharp at the corners, and his scent is spiky.
“The… toilet snake?” Shoto whines, a horrible noise which wavers in pitch as his scent twists around and around on itself with anxiety.
“The toilet-” Izuku’s jaw clenches, little fangs flashing. “GET OUT FOR ONE MINUTE!”
“Ple-” Shoto starts, but the door is promptly slammed in his face and locked, and though Shoto could absolutely use his Quirk or sheer brute strength to break it down, if he does that then-
Omega is unhappy with us. Omega is sad. Must provide better, make omega feel safe.
Shoto spends a whole minute vibrating in place in front of the bathroom door, then tears through the house, moving as fast as he can, grabbing up blankets and throw pillows, raiding the fridge and the kitchen cupboards for snacks and drinks and all of his mate’s very favourite things. He has to make this better. The reasonable part of Shoto’s brain knows that Izuku isn’t going to leave him just because his instincts are making him over-possessive, but those same instincts refuse to let him calm down. Shoto can feel his heart thundering in his chest, pounding fast like he’s fighting a major villain, but he cannot seem to stop. So, he throws pillows and cushions onto the bed, arranges all the blankets he found, and readies the nest for his omega.
By the time he hears the bathroom door open, Shoto’s heart is practically in his throat and he feels like every fibre of his being is pulled taut by the desire to-
Go! Wrap omega up and hold him tight and never let go! Our omega, our omega, our omega needs us.
It takes every ounce of Shoto’s extremely thinly stretched self-control to stop himself from leaping from the bed, but one look at Izuku’s soft smile, and Shoto is pleased that he did. Izuku looks proud of him.
“You made me a nest?”
Shoto nods so rapidly that his vision blurs.
“Awww, thanks Sho.” Izuku drags a hand through his green curls and paces over the bed, Shoto’s jumper slipping off his shoulder, the air filling with his warm scent. “Ooh! You got snacks!” Izuku snuggles into the nest and right into Shoto’s arms. “My big strong alpha providing for me. You’re the best.”
We made omega happy. Our omega smells good.
Shoto nuzzles into Izuku’s scent gland, purring as Izuku lifts his wrist to rub against Shoto’s neck in return, and the rich green-tea-chocolate scent they make together grows and grows until Shoto feels like he could happily drown in it. He is vaguely aware of the motions of Izuku reaching for the remote tucked between the cushions of the nest, and the sounds of the television switching on, but they are indistinct. All Shoto’s instincts are wrapped up in the omega in his arms. He does not need to patrol the edges of their territory because Izuku is right here with him, their scents mingling in the air, and all is right with the world.
Shoto feels the alpha in his head calm, his heartbeat thumping slower now, back to normal. The beast inside his head which is intent on protecting Izuku from imaginary threats curls around the rest of Shoto’s consciousness. He reaches out with his mind and pets it.
We did good. We made our omega happy. We are a good alpha.
Izuku shifts one arm and starts to stroke Shoto’s hair.
“The best alpha.”
Shoto wasn’t aware he’d spoken aloud, but he doesn’t care. Izuku knows all of his strangeness and his insecurities, and puts up with him anyway. Even if Shoto feels the need twice a year to follow Izuku everywhere, and protect him from… the toilet snake.