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Kirishima felt like death.
He knew that his heat was close. He’d been in preheat for about two days now; his scent glands were swollen, and his skin itched with sweat, not to mention his heightened sense of smell. He swore he could tell which one of his classmates was coming from a mile away by their scent alone.
He planned on taking the week off after he finished his classes for the day, like usual. He also always made sure to wear scent patches when his heat was close as to not disturb his classmates, of course, so he was not only flushed and clammy from his impending heat, but he also had the added sensation of the itchy adhesive of his patches over his glands. He had to wear them, though, and he knew that.
Bakugo, however, found this to be greatly upsetting.
He could just barely get a whiff of the omega’s sweet, heat-laden scent from beneath those stupid scent-blocking patches. He wanted nothing more than to rip the patches off and lick up all the excess oil Kirishima’s scent glands must be accumulating underneath. He wanted Kirishima’s scent to bury him alive, he wanted to drown in it.
But friends don’t do that. Good alphas don’t do that, not without permission, at least. And fuck if he wasn’t gonna be the best fucking alpha there was. Bakugo Katsuki was always the best at everything he did.
Kirishima looked tired, Bakugo could see it in his eyes. He’d surely collapse into his nest once class was over, get it all situated and cuddle up into the pillows and blankets his friends had scented.
Great, now he was thinking about Kirishima in his nest.
After ending the day doing some independent practice at one of the training grounds, Aizawa dismissed them, and the class piled into the locker rooms. Everyone chatted amongst themselves, all but one of them oblivious to the way Kirishima staggered a little upon entering.
Bakugo, of course, was the one who noticed.
“Kirishima, you okay?” he asked as he approached, trying to keep his voice quiet enough that their classmates didn’t overhear and start a fuss.
“Eh? Oh, I’m fine. Just getting fatigued,” Kirishima said, smiling weakly. “Really glad the day is over, to be honest. My heat is basically here at this point.” He let out a dry laugh. His skin prickled, ached. His brain was turning to stew in his skull, and the smell of over ten other guys’ sweat made his noise burn. Being in the locker room was not helping his situation, given the numerous alphas in the cramped space, naked in front of him.
Really, it was mostly just Bakugo that was setting his nerves on fire.
But that wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Bakugo’s instincts were going wild, telling him to protect the omega, help him, make him feel better, please him. He was about to speak, but Kaminari rushed over before he could open his mouth.
“Kirishima! Has it already gotten that bad?” he said, tone softer than usual, taking on a care-giving quality. His instincts were kicking in, too, Bakugo guessed.
Kirishima nodded. “You sure you’ll be able to get back to your dorm without collapsing?” Kaminari asked. By now, the whole locker room was staring at Kirishima. His scent had been permeating through the room for a while, leaking from his soiled scent patches. Not to mention the almost doting nature Kaminari had adopted all of a sudden threw everyone for a loop.
No, no, no, don’t look at him, Bakugo thought. My omega, don’t you dare lay your stupid fucking eyes on him, you damned extras.
Kirishima actually wasn’t Bakugo’s omega, but his instincts told him otherwise. Really, Bakugo just had a crush. A big crush.
“Guys, guys, let’s give him some space,” Sero said, releasing his non-potent scent. Sero was a well-respected beta in the class; he got along with just about everyone, and his fresh, grassy scent was enough to calm both the omegas and alphas a little bit.
Bakugo crowded into Kirishima’s space, growling low in his chest, blocking him from view of the others and causing the omega to suppress a submissive whine. It wasn’t necessarily peculiar behavior for Bakugo, being the possessive, protective alpha he was, but it still made Kirishima a little giddy that the alpha who had stolen his heart was being possessive and protective over him.
The class backed off, occupying themselves with getting changed as quickly as possible. They didn’t dare so much as look in Kirishima’s direction; no matter how concerned they were, facing Bakugo’s wrath was not worth it.
“Seriously, we should get you back, like, right now,” Kaminari said. He gave Bakugo an admonishing look, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. The only one who could sway Bakugo was Kirishima, so why Kaminari even bothered was a good question.
Kirishima had finished changing by the time his friends looked his way, having basically ignored the previous conversation (his mind was a bit occupied with his half-naked, sweaty, sexy, protective alpha best friend). He just wanted to go to his dorm. His body throbbed dully, and his head was beginning to pound. He needed his nest. Immediately. It was getting hard to think.
He sighed. “Bakugo?” He looked up at the alpha through his eyelashes, and Bakugo flinched. “Will you take me please?”
“What?!” Kaminari’s eyes blew wide. “Why him?! He’s an alpha, you idiot!”
“Yeah, but it’s Bakugo,” was the soft reply. Kirishima looked at his feet, messing with a loose thread on his t-shirt.
Kaminari couldn’t really argue, because yeah, Bakugo probably wouldn’t do anything, and he knew Kirishima was head over heals for him. But it still made him a bit nervous.
He had no time to argue, though, because at Kirishima’s quiet request, Bakugo grabbed his wrist, rubbing gently over his scent gland (he often did that as the pack alpha, and it worked wonders on Kirishima’s demeanor). “C’mon, Shitty Hair,” he grunted, tugging Kirishima towards the door.
Kirishima grinned, instincts satisfied that his – wait, no, not his – alpha was taking care of him.
Bakugo ignored the half-hearted shouts from their friends as the exited into the hall. He vaguely noted a comment, presumably from Sero, about how ‘they’ll be fine, this is Bakugo and Kirishima we’re talking about,’ and subsequently the chatter died away from there.
They made their way quickly to the dorms, Bakugo baring his teeth at any alphas that even so much as looked in their direction.
When they arrived in front of Kirishima’s door, he glanced over. Kirishima was flushed and clearly out of it. “We’re here, hair for brains.” Kirishima held his hand, eyes boring into his very being. “I said, we’re here! The fuck?”
“Come in with me?”
Bakugo felt his face heat up. Why did Kirishima want him to go inside? Wasn’t he about to go into heat? Was he asking Bakugo to fuck him? Was he just nervous to be alone?
Kirishima realized his error and waved his hands back in forth. “Wait, no, no, not like that, oh my God! I just…” He went silent for a moment. “It just feels really comforting to be with you, I guess? I don’t know, I’m sorry. This is dumb. Thanks for bringing me here, I’ll see you at the end of the week when my-”
Bakugo pulled him back by his hand before he could leave. “Fine! I’ll come in.”
“What?”
“I said, I’ll come in! Fucking listen when I’m talking to you.” Bakugo’s heart clenched at the way Kirishima’s scent brightened (his scent patches were almost entirely soaked through by now).
Kirishima beamed, tugging Bakugo inside and shutting the door behind him. He dropped Bakugo’s hand and immediately crawled into his nest, purring as he surrounded himself in freshly scented blankets.
It was customary in their pack (that being the self-proclaimed “Bakugsquad,” named after their pack alpha) to help the omegas, Kirishima and Kaminari, by scenting things for their nests, so Bakugo wasn’t surprised to smell all his friends’ scents when he entered the room. He was surprised, though, that Kirishima was specifically wrapping himself in the blanket Bakugo remembered scenting the day prior.
It wasn’t necessarily strange; he was an alpha, after all, so it made sense that Kirishima found comfort in his scent as an omega. He even said it himself. But Ashido was an alpha, too…
And Bakugo couldn’t really wrap his head around the implication that Kirishima used his scent to get off during his heat (because obviously he had to be getting off, at least at some point, and he was doing it in his nest, the nest that was filled with Bakugo’s scent). That thought had always bothered him, but he’d just been telling himself that it was Kirishima’s instincts, not his own desire.
Yet here they were, with Kirishima snuggled into his nest, about to start his heat, staring at the alpha he just invited in.
His purr deepened, rumbling in his chest loud enough for Bakugo to hear from a few feet away.
Bakugo just stood stiff in the middle of the room, watching Kirishima. He wet his dry lips, swallowing around his sandpaper tongue. Why was his mouth so dry?
When Kirishima noticed he wasn’t making a move to enter the nest, he reached out to him, hands outstretched, a whine bubbling up in his throat and replacing that delightful purr. His eyebrows drew up and scrunched lines into his forehead, bottom lip coming out in a pout.
Bakugo couldn’t say no to that, could he?
He crawled into the nest slowly, careful not to mess up any of the intricately placed items. He tried to quell the buzz under his skin. He was in a nest that wasn’t his father’s! Kirishima’s nest, at that!
He let himself get tugged under the blanket with Kirishima, who ripped his own scent patches off, tossing them off onto the floor, before pulling Bakugo into him. His scent filled Bakugo’s nose and yes, yes, oh my God, YES, this is what Bakugo had been craving all day. Kirishima’s scent was more sugary than usual, like a peach cobbler rather than the usual fresh and airy peach orchard smell. It was definitely because of his heat, which was surely here by now, given how strong he smelled and the way he clung to the alpha in front of him and rubbed his scent glands over his skin.
Bakugo was on cloud nine, getting drunk on his best friend’s scent.
Kirishima broke Bakugo out of his daydream. “Is it okay if we cuddle?” he asked, face already buried in Bakugo’s chest as the alpha massaged his scalp.
Wait, when did he thread his fingers into Kirishima’s hair?
Well, it didn’t matter.
Bakugo just sighed, hand going down to rub Kirishima’s back in slow circles. “We already are, idiot.”
Kirishima giggled, releasing the sweetest, happiest scent Bakugo had ever smelled. “Thanks, Bakugo.”
Bakugo merely grunted, yet he still settled himself comfortably in Kirishima’s arms.