Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Maybe he’s crazy, but morning classes have always been Izuku’s favorite. He gets to wake up while the rest of campus is quiet and still. Even the hallways are quiet, his footsteps creating a hollow echo as he walks. 

He steps into the empty lecture hall, the musk of the old room inviting and familiar. It’s not a very big space, but it’s home to every section of his Philosophy 100 classes this semester. Technically it’s not his class. Dr. Aizawa’s name is on all of the course listings, but he’s tenured and can’t be bothered with actually teaching or grading essays. And as a graduate student and Ph.D. candidate, he’s not really in any position to argue with the man who will be writing his recommendation. 

But overall, Izuku doesn’t really mind. Heck, he loves these introductory courses because he gets a chance to talk about philosophy to students who have never heard of some of the concepts before. Sure, there are plenty of students who are totally disinterested and only taking this course because it’s required. There are always a few, however, where Izuku gets to see their interest spark. And then those students show up in other philosophy courses and— It’s just really cool, okay? 

He sets his messenger bag down behind his desk at the front of the room and looks out into the sea of empty desks. Just like clockwork, at 7:50, the first student walks into the room. A short, brown-haired, beta girl who always sits right in front of Izuku. 

“Good morning, Sir,” she says, politely, as she pulls out her notebooks and pens. Uraraka Ochako is her name, and she’s always prompt and seems very focused on each of his lessons. Though, Izuku can’t tell if it’s because she has a love for philosophy, or if it’s because she’s just a perfectionist. 

“Good Morning, Uraraka,” he says, giving her a friendly smile. 

“I have all of my chapter three notes outlined and color-coded,” she says proudly, tapping her pen against the open page of her notebook. So maybe it's perfectionism. 

“That’s great,” he says, his eyes flickering towards the door as a few more students start to trickle in. Most avoid the front row at all costs, leaving Uraraka uncomfortably front-and-center. “What’s your major, Uraraka?” 

Please say philosophy! 

“Pre-medicine,” she smiles, crushing his soul without realizing it. 

He gets it— Most people don’t really see any value in philosophy. Which makes sense in the way that there aren’t many job opportunities that arise from it aside from academia. But it’s an important class to take and Izuku would love to see more students interested! He loves the idea of a subject that doesn’t teach what to think, but how to think. 

Very cool, even if most might disagree. Including his own mother who claims that academia is not a suitable profession for an alpha. And that always leads to an intense debate about sexism and gender roles that she and Izuku will just never seem to agree on. ‘Good luck finding a mate while teaching a useless subject!’ 

As soon as the clock strikes eight, he stands up to begin his lesson. 

“Good morning everyone,” he greets his sleepy, captive audience. “Last time we met, you were assigned to read chapter 3, which gets us talking about what does it mean to be able to think? Does any—” 

He’s cut short as the doors at the side of the room swing open, probably much more loudly than the student entering had intended. This one happens to be another that Izuku recognizes and remembers from class to class. 

Bakugou Katsuki. An omega with fierce red eyes, always dressed in sweats that advertise the fact that he plays for the UA’s hockey team. He isn’t always late like this, and as a result mutters a weak apology, closes the door and makes a beeline for his usual seat in the very back row. There, he slumps into the seat and pulls his hood up over his head. 

Izuku doesn’t say anything, just carries on with his lecture. He is fully aware that within a few minutes, this Bakugou will be out, head rolled back against the wall behind him so he can sleep peacefully through the rest of the lecture. 

Must be nice. 

Izuku knows what type of student he is. He’s the kind that was late to registration and had no choice but to sign up for an early morning class. Not only that, but he’s also a student athlete, which means he probably thinks he’s above everyone else. 

Well, lucky for him, Izuku has his name down as a student who needs to attend tutoring in order to pass the class. He tucks that thought away to the back of his mind as he continues on with the lesson. There’s no sense in causing a scene over the guy and embarrassing him, right? 

After he wraps up, he watches as the rest of the students pack up their bags and scramble out of the lecture hall. Izuku moves to stand near the door so that he can catch Bakugou on his way out. But as the crowd starts to thin, he notices that the omega still hasn’t moved an inch from where he was before. 

Mildly concerned, he makes his way to the back of the lecture hall and stops in front of his desk. His eyes are shut, long eyelashes laying gently against his cheeks. His lips are slightly ajar as he breathes, clearly still sound asleep. Izuku blinks, not sure what to do at first. Bakugou must be really tired. 

“Hey,” Izuku says, gently tapping his knuckles against the small desk in front of him. Empty. He didn’t even try to take notes. Bakugou stirs slightly, so Izuku knocks again, this time getting him to jolt awake. 

He gasps and stares hard at Izuku, trying to figure out what’s going on before glancing around and realizing that the room is now empty. 

“Shit,” he mutters, shaking his head and reaching over to grab his backpack from the floor. 

“Bakugou Katsuki, right?” Izuku asks, standing up straight again. 

“Yeah?” he shrugs, having the gall to sound annoyed that Izuku is addressing him. 

“I need to talk to you about your grade in this class,” Izuku starts to explain. 

“What about it?” he huffs, starting off towards the door anyway. Izuku scowls and catches up with him, trying to block his path to the exit. “Come on, I have to get to my next class.” 

“Well, you should know that you’re failing.” 

That gets him to stop dead in his tracks. His eyebrows furrow together and his nostrils flare.  Izuku stares right back at him. What, does he think looking pissed off is going to scare him away? Nope! Not today. 

“How the fuck am I failing?” he rasps. 

“You haven’t turned in any assignments,” Izuku says. “And I know it’s still early in the semester, but if you keep trending this way, you aren’t going to be able to turn your grade around.” 

“Okay, fine, fuck, what do I have to do? I’ll make up the assignments and shit,” Bakugou scoffs, as if it’s that simple. 

“I mean, there’s a syllabus for a reason,” Izuku mutters. “And before you ask, the syllabus has been posted online since the beginning. Please check it.” 

“Fine.” 

“And anothe—r thing,” Izuku states, earning a tired and totally uncalled for groan from the omega who is still trying to leave. “I’m also requiring that you attend tutoring sessions. You’ve missed a lot of class time by sleeping. Maybe school isn’t that important to you, but I’m not going to just let that slide.” 

Bakugou’s glare turns from annoyed to angry.

“You don’t know shit about what’s important to me,” he snaps. 

And then he pushes past Izuku and storms out of the place. 

Izuku watches him leave, and then when he’s sure he’s gone, he rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Izuku is doing him a favor here. If Bakugou doesn’t get his shit together, he could be put on academic probation and possibly kicked off the hockey team. That would be especially bad if he happens to be a scholarship student, which many athletes are. 

Whatever. 

Izuku goes back to his desk and opens his computer so that he can send a follow up email with tutoring hours. 

Katsuki doesn’t know how much more he can take before he finally explodes. He thought he had this all planned out perfectly, yet it still seems to be backfiring on him. 

There’s a reason he scheduled all of his lectures back-to-back every morning. 

Doing that meant that he could clear his afternoons and have plenty of time to get to the fucking locker rooms before anyone else. It’s stupid, but if he’s learned anything, it’s that he’s not gonna set himself up for humiliation. If he isn’t in the locker room with the rest of his teammates, then that’s one less unsupervised block of time alone with them. 

But all this shit is starting to catch up with him. He’s fucking exhausted. 

Every day he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to get in a morning run before classes. After they’re all over, he has to run back to his dorm room to grab his hockey shit and then run all the way across campus again to get into the locker rooms as soon as they open. Once he’s changed, he can head to the rink and sit in the bleachers until everyone else gets there. 

And then the next day he does it all over again. 

He’s in a shitty mood today for a number of reasons. In addition to being exhausted and cranky, he got stopped by that stupid philosophy TA who had to remind him that he hasn’t been able to do a damned thing for that class. An introductory course shouldn’t be that hard, yet Katsuki is still finding himself drowning in coursework. 

Hell, maybe he does need that tutoring shit. 

Anyway, he’s in a piss poor mood and it throws off his entire day. The icing on the cake is when he’s standing at his locker and he hears the main door open. 

Immediately, his heart jumps into his throat and he scrambles to throw everything back into his bag and slam his locker shut so that he can—

“Katsuki! There you are, buddy!” He grimaces and turns to face the two teammates who had just entered the room. To be more specific, two alpha  team mates. Fuck. 

He never used to let this sort of thing bother him. Being an omega, he’s used to people thinking less of him or acting like he’s some sort of delicate flower. It pisses him off, but it’s a fact of life he’s grown used to. His own mother was wary of sending him off to college to play on a team as the only omega, but he had managed to convince her he would be fine. 

And he is fine. 

Most of the time. 

“I was just leaving,” Katsuki mutters. The taller one, Yoarashi, grins and throws his arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. He stinks of alpha pheromones and it makes Katsuki feel sick to his stomach. 

“Like, for good?” Yoarashi snickers. 

“Fucking finally,” the other one, Shishikura mutters, leaning against the row of lockers and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“No,” Katsuki replies, shrugging Yoarashi off of him and moving towards the exit once again. All he needs to do is get out and leave them behind. He doesn’t care if they’re mad at him or pissed that he’s being rude. 

“Aw, too bad,” Shishikura says. “Because we wouldn’t have missed you.” 

“Just leave me the fuck alone,” Katsuki insists as they both corner him, blocking him from leaving. They seem to know just as well as he does that he doesn’t want to get into any sort of physical altercation. Whatever happened, they’d  just corroborate their own story and make it seem like Katsuki’s fault. 

They’ve had it out for him from the beginning. Apparently the upperclassmen prefer the days when omegas weren’t allowed to join the same sports teams as they were. Katsuki tries to remind himself that they’re only bitter because they’re threatened by Katsuki. People don’t like to see omegas that are just as strong and capable as alphas are. It’s fucked up. 

“I’m trying to leave,” Katsuki reminds them, trying to keep his scent at bay. He doesn’t want them to know how nervous he is. They’re nasty and cruel. 

“Why don’t you show us your pussy?” Shishikura grins, swiping his hand between Katsuki’s legs. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Katsuki hisses. He doesn’t bother trying to explain to them that he doesn’t have a pussy. On the outside, he has the same fucking genitals they do. The only difference is his lack of a knot and presence of a uterus. But they’re stupid knot heads who don’t seem to know basic anatomy. 

“Who wants to see that?” Yoarashi scoffs. “Be careful, you might send him into heat early.” 

Again, not how it fucking works. 

“I’m not trying to fucking fight with you two, let me through,” Katsuki demands. Yoarashi opens his mouth to speak, but is stopped short as the doors to the locker room open again and more players start to enter. The two take it as a hint to back off, but not before slamming Katsuki back against the lockers. Yoarashi’s fist collides with his jaw, as if to punctuate the fact that they don’t like him or want him to be there.

He’s a bit shaken up, but not enough so that he can’t scramble past them and duck out of the room. 

One might suggest that Katsuki tell his coach or report them for harassment, and it’s not like Katsuki has never thought of doing that before. But he’s already at odds with the world simply by being the only omega on the team. 

Everyone expects him to fail, to drop out because it’s too much. So he isn’t about to admit defeat and leave now. He’s worked way too fucking hard to get to where he is. 

During his first week with the team, they had stuffed his locker full of pregnancy tests and fake knot toys as a “joke.” Because it’s apparently so funny that he’s an omega and requires those things. When he mentioned it to his coach, he was simply reminded that if he didn’t want to deal with their shenanigans he could have just as easily joined the omega club team. 

And he is not doing that. 

He feels a wave of relief wash over him as he finally makes it out of that stuffy locker room. It’s easily the toughest part of his day trying to get through that layer of hell. Straight from the locker room, he heads to the rink where he’ll wait another half hour for practice to start. He’s early, but it’s worth it. 

As he enters, he can hear the familiar scraping of blades against ice. It's not an inherently nice sound, but it is to Katsuki. It’s something that can immediately put him at ease after a long day— a reminder that he’s here because he loves hockey and he loves being out on the ice. His passion for the sport can outweigh the shit that Yoarashi and the others give him any day. 

But the sound isn’t coming from hockey skates, and he can tell before he even sees the figure skater gliding across the ice. She’s dressed in all black, with her hair tied up in a tightly-wound bun. He watches as she spins and jumps, paying no attention to the fact that Katsuki has just entered the arena. 

Smirking, he steps up to the side of the rink. Just as she glides around, he bangs his fists against the plexiglass as hard as he can. She stumbles, but doesn’t fall, and immediately turns to face him. 

“Katsuki, you jerk!” she scoffs, pulling her earbuds from her ears before skating to the side to come greet him. 

She’s not a stranger. In fact, she’s easily one of his best friends on campus. 

“Your fault for blasting your music, gotta be aware of your surroundings,” he teases, even though he’s well aware that she’s probably listening to one of her competition songs or whatever they’re called. She being Camie, an omega on the school’s competitive figure skating roster. 

“Shut up,” she chuckles. “You’re a little late for being early today, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t remind me,” he says, rolling his eyes. She gives him a stern look. 

“Were they messing with you again?” she asks, as if she could do something about it. 

“It’s fine,” he says, brushing it off. In the past, he’s told her about the shit they do to him, but never any of the details. He never tells anyone the details for fear that they’ll worry too much or make him quit the team. 

He’s not going to do that. He can handle it himself. 

“I hope you’re not lying to me,” she says, shaking her head. “Those guys are bad news. Like, super nasty.” 

“Yeah,” Katsuki breathes. Then, he changes the subject quickly. “What are you working on?” 

“Ah, you know, short program. Coach wants me to add another jump, but I haven’t been able to get the timing right,” Camie explains. “Here, tell me which one is better.” 

Katsuki watches as she skates away in a big circle, building up for a spinning jump in the air. It looks pretty cool and hard as shit to do. 

“Okay, that was the first one,” she calls out, before winding up for another. He watches carefully as she jumps and then glides back over to him. “Which was better?” 

“They looked exactly the same,” he says, honestly. 

“Well, one was a Salchow and the other was an axel,” she explains, as if that makes it any clearer. 

“ Salchow sounds cooler,” he smirks, and she responds by shaking her head and trying not to laugh. 

“You hockey players are hopeless,” she teases. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked for my opinion.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, stepping off the ice and moving to sit next to him on the bleachers. “Hey, you have a rest day tomorrow, right? You should come over after practice, then.” 

Katsuki brightens for a moment, and then sighs when he remembers the annoying email he had gotten from his philosophy TA. 

“Can’t, I have to go to fucking tutoring,” he mumbles. “I’m failing philosophy.” 

“Already? Damn,” she says, shaking her head. 

“Yeah . . . don’t like, tell anyone, though. I don’t want them to have another reason to shit on me,” he groans, instinctively turning back towards the entrance to double-check that no one is listening to their conversation. 

“Dude, like I’d do that,” she laughs. She pulls the covers over the blades of her skates and stands up again. “I gotta get going for now. Let me know how tutoring goes, I guess. Come over after that if you can.” 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” he promises. 

And then Camie exits the arena, leaving Katsuki alone to take in the chilly silence of the place. It gives him time to think before he’s bombarded by his rambunctious teammates once again. 

Izuku never got a response from Bakugou in regards to tutoring, but he sets up at his table in the library anyway. At least if anyone tries to give him crap for flunking an athlete he can say that he tried to help him boost his grade. It’s not Izuku’s fault if Bakugou doesn’t follow through. 

As he sits at the table, he sorts through his lecture notes and has the textbook splayed out in front of him. If this guy shows up, they’ll at least be able to get through a couple of assignments. 

His phone vibrates against the table, reminding him that he should put it away before Bakugou gets there in order to remain professional. But not before checking the message. 

Shinsou: just went to drop off the essays and Aizawa’s place smells like WEED

Izuku rolls his eyes at the message from his colleague— another Ph.D. candidate working under Dr. Aizawa’s supervision. 

Izuku: Not Surprised! 

He respects his superiors, he really does. But at times it really bothers him that Aizawa gets away with so much. Like when he comes into their discussion sections high as a kite and has nothing of value to add to their learning. Luckily, the point of the program is for Izuku to be able to do his own research and write his own thesis, but it would be nice if his supervisor could do a better job of, you know, supervising. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” 

Izuku jumps at the sound and looks up, shocked to see Bakugou Katsuki  taking a seat at his table. He’s still wearing that hockey sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head. 

“Oh, hi, that’s fine,” he says, perking right up. It’s nice when students actually accept his help, especially when he isn’t expecting it. “I’m glad you came.” 

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he asks. 

“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Izuku scoffs. Bakugou rolls his eyes and puts his head down on the table. “Come on, no sleeping.” 

“I’m not sleeping,” he says defensively. 

“Okay, well, then you’ll need your book and something to take notes with,” Izuku says, watching as Bakugou groans and pulls the recommended items from his backpack. “We can start by reviewing the first chapter and filling in the note sheet.” 

“Okay,” he mumbles.

He’s mostly silent as Izuku rambles on, only mumbling and shrugging when Izuku asks him a question. It’s so strange, and it really makes Izuku wonder what kind of person he is. He seems so reserved and guarded with his body language.  His hood shrouds his features, but not completely. Izuku can still see his sharp, red eyes and the purple that blooms along his jawline. 

The facial bruise would be concerning if he didn’t know that the guy is a hockey player.  

“Hockey’s a rough sport, huh?” Izuku asks. Bakugou just stares at him. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he says, quietly. 

“Looks like it hurts,” Izuku says, nodding towards the bruise. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Well. 

It places an uncomfortable silence between them, making Izuku wish he hadn’t attempted to make conversation. Bakugou clearly doesn’t want to talk to him, and frankly, Izuku doesn’t know why he’s even trying. All he has to do is help him get the work done and then let him be on his way. 

But he still just can’t help but wonder what must be going through Bakugou’s head. He seems so angry, so guarded, and Izuku knows that there must be some reason for that. Even if the reason is just that he’s so handsome and popular that he’s grown up thinking he can just talk to people however he wants to. 

Not a great reason, but still a reason. 

“Okay, then,” Izuku mumbles. He starts to talk again, but is interrupted when Bakugou suddenly tenses up and curses. Offended, he looks up from the book he’s reading to tell the omega to be more respectful . . . 

But then he sees the two alphas approaching Bakugou at their table. And he sees the way Bakugou’s demeanor immediately changes. 

“Katsuki, what the hell are ya doing, man?” the bigger one says, his voice in a mocking tone. “What is this, tutoring?” 

“No,” Bakugou lies, giving Izuku a sudden death glare, like he’s trying to silently signal to him to just go along with it!

“Are you sure? Wow, Katsuki, if you can’t keep up with your academics maybe you should think about the club team,” the other one says, his tone much calmer but also more condescending. Izuku decides that he doesn’t really like either of them. 

“I’m keeping up just fine,” Bakugou insists. 

“Then who’s this nerd, huh?” the big guy asks, jutting his thumb in Izuku’s direction. Bakugou gives him a warning glance and Izuku panics. He doesn’t know what’s going on, just that these guys seem like obnoxious jerks and Bakugou clearly doesn’t want them knowing he’s being tutored. 

So Izuku pulls the first thing he can think of out of his ass. 

“I’m his boyfriend,” he says quickly, smiling up at the other alphas. He notices the way they go silent, and the way that Bakugou’s eyes go slightly wider. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Is that so, Katsuki?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, his eyes still locked onto Izuku’s. Very scary. “My boyfriend.”

“Who brings a date to the fucking library?” the smaller one laughs. “Come on, Inasa, let’s let these nerds study. ”

They both snicker to each other before slapping Bakugou on the back between the shoulder blades. He stiffens, glaring at them both as they walk away. 

“What the fuck was that?!” he hisses, as soon as they’re out of earshot. 

“I’m sorry, I panicked, was that not a good lie? Who are those guys?” he asks, suddenly all flustered. 

“It’s a fucking terrible lie,” Bakugou scoffs. “Because now they think I have a boyfriend.” 

“You could tell them we broke up next time you see them, it’s no big deal,” he sighs. “Sorry. Besides, what’s the big deal about tutoring anyway? Who cares if you have to?” 

Bakugou stares at him for another moment, his eyes searching Izuku’s face for the words he needs. Then he sighs and shakes his head. 

“You don’t get it,” he says. “It’s only gonna make things worse if I tell them that. And, if they find out I was lying they’ll . . . fuck you’re so stupid. I don’t even fucking know you!” 

“Hey, hey, it wasn’t— It’s not personal, okay?” Izuku says, defensively. Bakugou seems really angry. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that they were dating, but Bakugou definitely seems to be overreacting a bit. 

He inhales sharply and holds his face in his hands, muttering to himself as he works through his apparent anger. Izuku isn’t sure what to say. This is actually the most he’s ever talked to the other man. 

“You know what, maybe this could work,” he says, sitting up again and suddenly changing his tune. It nearly gives Izuku whiplash. 

“Huh?” 

“If they think you’re my boyfriend they’ll back off,” Bakugou says, mostly to himself. “Maybe. Fuck.” 

“Okay?” 

“But it’s not because you’re an alpha, okay? I don’t need protection,” he scoffs, even though what he’s suggesting makes it sound like he does need protection. He can’t imagine what for, or what Izuku could even do about it besides simply being an alpha. 

He isn’t the most athletic person ever. Hell, Bakugou is almost twice his size and could certainly hold his own better than Izuku could. 

“What do you need me for, then?” Izuku asks, swallowing hard. Bakugou slides back, slouching in his chair. 

“Just that . . . fucking alphas don’t seem to respect anyone other than each other,” he says. And for the first time all day, Izuku feels like they’re on the same page. Without having to explain anything, Izuku knows what he’s talking about. 

“Yeah,” Izuku says. “What do you want me to do, then?” 

“I don’t know,” he says. “Just . . . if any of them ask, you’re my alpha, and beyond that I don’t really see what else there is to do. It shouldn’t be that complicated, right?” 

Izuku nods. They run in completely different circles, only rarely running into one another outside of class. 

There’s no way a simple white lie could get too complicated, right?

Chapter Text

“I’m either a fucking genius or I did something really stupid,” is the first thing Katsuki says when he arrives at Camie’s room that evening. She invites him in with a quizzical look. She’s wearing a cropped tank top and a denim skirt, but Katsuki doesn’t think anything of it at first. 

“Okay,” she says, squinting. “Do I wanna know?” 

“Uh, yeah,” he says, plopping himself right down on her bed. 

“Well, don’t get too comfortable! We’re going out!” she hisses, gesturing to her outfit. Katsuki looks down at himself and scrunches his nose at his jeans and his hockey sweatshirt. It’s nothing special, just what he wears every damn day. 

“What?” he groans. “I can’t go out.” 

“Why not? See, this is why I didn’t tell you about it before, or else you wouldn’t have come over at all,” she says, with a knowing grin. “Come on, Katsuki, you deserve to have a little fun. You’ve been grinding since you got here.” 

“Yeah, because I have to,” he reminds her. Or did she forget that he’s holding the weight of being the first omega ever to grace the roster of the UA Men’s hockey team. And that if he fucks anything up, then he’s a failure and everyone will point to him as the sole reason to never allow omegas into these kinds of spaces ever again. 

“And if you don’t, like, chill out for a night, you’re gonna crash and burn,” she shoots back. He opens his mouth to protest, and then shuts it again when he realizes that he has nothing to counter attack with. She’s right, in a way. 

Though his idea of chilling out doesn’t involve going anywhere. He’s perfectly fine staying home in his pajamas and hanging out with Camie. Why can’t they just do that? 

“Fine, where are we going?” he asks her. 

“My friend’s sorority is having a party—” 

“Nope,” he says, quickly. 

“Katsuki! Don’t knock it till you try it,” she insists. “Besides, no one’s saying you have to drink or anything. I know you’re all paranoid about being caught.” 

“We signed a contract,” he reminds her. All that shitty paperwork in order to be both an athlete and a student. “No alcohol, no parties.” 

“No getting caught with alcohol at parties,” she grins. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You can meet some better people than those idiots on your team.” 

She does have a point. Being on the team, he hasn’t had much time to really meet anyone else. It’s quite possible that there are people other than Camie who would make this school more enjoyable. 

“Fine,” he finally concedes. “But if it’s terrible, I’m leaving.” 

“Deal,” she grins. “So, what were you gonna tell me?” 

Oh yeah. 

“Right,” he sighs, thinking back to his tutoring session with his philosophy TA. Midoriya something.  

“Katsuki,” she says in a warning tone, catching onto his suspicious pause. “What did you do?” 

“You know how I said I was going to tutoring?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And I didn’t want anyone to know?” 

“Yep.” 

“Well, fucking Yoarashi and Shishikura showed up,” he scoffs, being sure to lace his tone with as much disgust as possible. “So I had to make something up.” 

“I hate those guys,” Camie sighs, shaking her head. “One day, they’re gonna get what’s coming to them. Neither of them will ever find mates acting like that.” 

“Yeah . . . Anyway, so my TA told them he’s my boyfriend,” he says it quickly, like he’s ripping off a bandage. He stares forward at the wall across from her bed, actively avoiding her gaze. 

“That’s . . . what?!” she shrieks, quickly sitting down on the bed next to him and rattling him by the shoulders. “Katsuki! What did you say?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “I was pissed at first, but then I thought it might actually work. They don’t have to know he’s not. If they think I’m being courted or whatever, they’ll back off.” 

“I mean, maybe? They’re sleazy anyway, though,” she sighs. “But you might be onto something. Maybe.” 

“And they don’t ever see him anyway,” he points out. “So it’s not something they ever have to find out about.” 

“Yeesh,” she says, blinking. “Well, is he cute at least?” 

“What? Why does that matter?” he asks, defensively, even though his cheeks grow hot. It’s a reflex! Midoriya isn’t cute . . . is he? Fuck. He pictures the nerd’s face in his head and starts to feel a little dizzy. The alpha has big green eyes and fluffy hair and lots of freckles. He’s short and scrawny but he’s always smiling and he’s somehow an alpha. 

All things considered, he certainly isn’t ugly. And he wasn’t stinking up the place with his pheromones either. Kinda cool for an alpha to not be a dick about that sort of thing. 

“It totally matters.” 

“I guess he’s a little cute,” Katsuki sighs. “But it really doesn’t matter. He’s not actually my boyfriend.” 

“Right, because it would be weird to date your teacher.” 

“He’s not my teacher . He’s the grad student the professor has doing all his grunt work,” he scoffs. On the first day of classes, he had phrased it to everyone so nicely. “I’m Midoriya Izuku, the teaching assistant for this section. Dr. Aizawa has designed this course for you, but I will be the one you see most of the time, as Dr. Aizawa is really busy with his research.” 

Katsuki and everyone else knew exactly what that was code for: “ Your professor is tenured and doesn’t give a shit, but I have to kiss his ass so I can get my degree. ” 

“Still pretty kinky,” she teases. 

“Shut up,” he scoffs. “Why did I even tell you?” 

Camie laughs and stands up. “Because, you love and trust me and I’m the best person you know.” 

Katsuki groans and she holds her hands out to him to pull him from his sitting position. She's right, but he isn't about to admit it. 

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbles. "Let's just get this over with." 

"Since when do you go to undergrad parties?" Izuku asks as he trails behind Shinsou on their way to their destination. The destination being a sorority party that Shinsou managed to snag an invite to. 

"I don't, but there's this guy that lives in our building—" 

"Yeah I know, the beta in Unit F, you've told me about him," Izuku sighs. He doesn't mean to sound annoyed, but to be fair this guy has taken up a lot of his best friend's time lately. Shinsou, despite not being a romantic type in the slightest, is head over heels for this guy. 

"Well, then you get it," he grins. "I'm gonna ask him out tonight."

"What! You haven't even asked him out yet?!" Izuku shrieks. The way Shinsou's been going on about him, Izuku just assumed. 

"Good things take time," Shinsou shrugs. 

"So, let me guess; you'll find this guy and then ditch me to go make out with him?" Izuku says, only slightly accusatory. 

"Maybe. But who knows? I bet you'll find someone cool to make out with, too," he says, pushing against Izuku's shoulder. Izuku just shakes his head because, uh, doubtful.  

He doesn’t like to be too negative or down on himself, but Izuku isn’t what most would consider desirable alpha material. Anyone who would go for an alpha is generally disappointed and confused by him. Again, it goes back to society’s unfair and unattainable standards for all secondary genders. Maybe it’s more common to see alphas who are larger in stature and more dominant, but alphas like Izuku still exist! 

He’s shorter than the average alpha, yeah, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t an alpha. Alphas are classified by biology and instinct— two things that have nothing to do with personality! While people might joke that he’s not really an alpha, the size of his knot in rut would beg to differ. 

Ahem. 

When they get to the house, the party is already well underway. Blaring music, people crowding the hallways, and the unmistakable stench of marijuana. It’s not necessarily Izuku’s cup of tea, but he likes to go out with Shinsou. They were both roommates in undergrad and now share an apartment as grad students. He trusts Shinsou’s judgment when it comes to getting him to do things out of his comfort zone. 

Let’s just say Izuku has come a long way since their freshman year. 

“There he is,” Shinsou mumbles to Izuku, stopping dead in his tracks when he locates the beta in question. Kaminari Denki of Unit F, to be more specific. He’s a nice guy, Izuku thinks. Always friendly and holds the elevator and stuff. He wears crop tops and glittery hair clips, which is fun, but totally the opposite of Shinsou’s style. (Shinsou describes it as dark academia, but Izuku thinks he just doesn’t know how to match colors that aren’t black.) 

But, despite their surface-level differences, Shinsou is absolutely taken with Kaminari. Izuku can tell just by the way his expression softens as soon as he sees him. 

“Why don’t you go talk to him, and I’ll grab us drinks?” Izuku suggests, nudging him forward. 

“How about you talk to him and I’ll get the drinks?” he laughs nervously. 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Go on! He likes you!” Izuku insists, shoving him with a little more enthusiasm. He still seems nervous, but ultimately takes a deep breath and marches right over to the other man. Izuku hangs back for a moment to watch. 

It’s like watching a scene from a movie on the outside looking in. The way Kaminari brightens when Shinsou gets his attention, his fingers moving to fidget with a strand of his hair. It must be nice to have a budding romance like that. Their attraction to one another just seems so innocent and light and— Gah, maybe Izuku is just a hopeless romantic. 

He decides to give them both some privacy and heads to the kitchen of the house where all of the counters are covered with cups and mixers and various types of alcohol. The counter space that is visible is either wet or sticky. He’d hate to be the person who has to clean all this up. 

After the drinks are made, he carries them back to where Shinsou is still talking with Kaminari. Only now, the space between them is almost nonexistent as they chat. Really, it’s the kind of set up that makes Izuku want to shove them together— Just kiss already! 

“Here ya go,” Izuku says, handing Shinsou his drink. 

“Hey Midoriya,” Kaminari greets him, friendly as always. 

“Did you ask him out yet?” Izuku asks, getting his answer through Shinsou’s pale expression alone. Oops. 

“You were gonna ask me out?” Kaminari asks, grinning and finally leaning against him. He seems to brighten at the suggestion, and is further amused by the way Shinsou immediately ends up flustered and embarrassed. 

“Ah, I mean . . . yeah?” he stammers, before taking a big sip of his drink. 

“Hmm,” Kaminari hums, like he’s waiting for something. “Well, are you gonna do it or not?” 

“Y-yeah,” Shinsou says, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Do you want to, um, get coffee with me sometime? For a date, I mean.” 

A wide, beaming smile spreads across Kaminari’s face as he nods. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” 

“So cute,” Izuku says, smiling. So adorable and pure and— 

“Come here,” Kaminari says, pulling on Shinsou’s hand to drag him away. “Let’s find somewhere more private.” 

Well then. Shinsou shrugs unapologetically and lets the beta whisk him away, leaving Izuku by himself. To be fair, he expected something like this to happen. They’ve been flirting in the halls of their apartment building for weeks now, it was only a matter of time. 

At least parties can be interesting for people-watching. 

He takes his drink and wanders into the living room, watching as some people dance, some people mingle with each other, and others make out in the corners of the room like no one is watching. Everyone is so absorbed in themselves and their own friend groups, that Izuku feels more like a fly on the wall than anything. 

After taking it in, he moves on to the next room where a table is set up for beer pong. There’s a lot of yelling and spilling drinks going on, so Izuku doesn’t linger there for too long. From there, he decides to step outside onto the back porch for some fresh air. He’s the only one outside, and it’s kind of nice. Quiet and cold. Peaceful, almost. 

Until the door slides open and someone else stomps out onto the porch. 

“Katsuki, I’m sorry I didn’t know they were gonna be here,” a girl’s voice says as the door closes again. Izuku perks up at the name and turns around. Sure enough, the very same omega he was tutoring in the library only hours before is there, trailed by an omega girl with blonde hair. 

“Well fuck,” Bakugou scoffs at her. He stops in his tracks when his eyes fall on Izuku. “The fuck are you doing here?” 

“Me?” Izuku asks, as if there’s anyone else he could be posing that question to. Bakugou steps closer, and as he does, Izuku notices that the front of his jacket is soaked through with some sort of alcohol. “What happened?” 

“None of your damn business,” Bakugou mutters, removing the hoodie altogether. Izuku can’t help but notice the way his arms flex under the tight sleeves of his t-shirt. It shouldn’t be a surprise— he is an athlete, afterall. And omegas can certainly be muscular. 

“Okay,” Izuku mumbles. He would offer to give Bakugou his own jacket, but it probably wouldn’t fit him, and that would be more embarrassing than anything. 

“Who’s this?” The girl asks him, nodding towards Izuku. 

“No one,” Bakugou says, quickly, much to Izuku’s disappointment for some reason. He’s not no one, is he? And why does it matter if he is, anyway? 

“I’m the TA for his philosophy course,” Izuku supplies, not thinking anything of it. He doesn’t have to tell her about his little deal with Katsuki if that’s what he’s so embarrassed about, right? 

“Fuck.” 

The girl’s eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open before she turns to Bakugou and smacks him in the chest. “The guy you told me about earlier?!” 

Oh? He told her about Izuku? That’s interesting. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou insists. “I just need to— Oh, fuck.”  

He changes his tune again as the door slides open once more, this time for a couple of alphas. In fact, they’re the same alphas who were giving Bakugou a hard time earlier. 

“Oh, I get it, you’re running off to your little boyfriend,” the taller one says, immediately recognizing Izuku, too. He freezes, unsure of what to say or do. He didn’t expect to have to put this act on again so quickly. And he’s also still not entirely sure what these guys have against Katsuki or why they seem to be seeking him out. 

“Come on, stop being a dick, Yoarashi,” the girl scoffs at him. “Just leave him alone.” 

Bakugou’s glare hardens and his entire body seems tense. Izuku looks between him and the alphas approaching him. The taunting, the wet clothes, the bruises on Katsuki’s face. It kind of adds up in the worst possible way. 

“We were actually just getting ready to leave,” Izuku interjects, stepping in and slipping his arm around the omega’s waist. He tries not to focus too hard on how warm and firm Bakugou is, or how he can really get his scent standing this close to him. 

“You should get better at keeping an eye on your omega,” the smaller alpha says. The way he says it makes Izuku’s blood boil. He hates the assumption that the alpha in a relationship has to be the responsible party. 

“My omega can manage himself just fine, but thanks,” Izuku mutters, his fingers digging into the fabric of Bakugou’s shirt. 

“Cute that you think that,” he smiles, turning to walk away. 

“Hey!” Izuku shouts back at him, his heart rate skyrocketing as a really stupid idea crosses his mind. The alpha turns back, raising an eyebrow. 

Without giving it another thought, he flings his still half-full drink at the alphas and watches as it hits one in the head, and soaks both of them. 

“What the fuck —” 

“Run,” Izuku says, immediately grabbing Bakugou’s arm and flying down the steps of the porch and towards the edge of the yard. They jump the fence and run from the house until they’re confident neither alpha is following them. 

And then the physicality of it all catches up with him and he nearly chokes. He bends over and braces himself against his knees, the cold air burning his lungs as he tries to catch his breath. All while Bakugou just stands there and watches. 

“You good?” Bakugou asks him, as if he’s surprised that Izuku doesn’t possess an ounce of athleticism. 

“Yeah,” he lies, standing up and holding his hands on his hips. 

“They’re gonna fucking kill you for that,” Bakugou points out. “But . . . thanks, I guess.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” he pants. “They really don’t like you, do they?” 

Bakugou frowns, his gaze sharp and piercing, making Izuku instantly regret asking. But then he softens, sighs, and shakes his head. “Nope.” 

“Why?” Izuku blurts. Bakugou groans and starts walking, hopefully in the direction of campus. (Izuku isn’t actually entirely sure where they are.) “Sorry, sorry, that’s none of my business. It’s just that it doesn’t make sense, you know? You seem so quiet and reserved and I don’t know why anyone would have a problem with that. Well, I guess I had a problem with that, but only because you were sleeping —” 

“Jesus Christ,” Bakugou mutters, giving him an incredulous look. “Do you ever shut up?” 

“No, not really,” Izuku sighs. He’s not sure why, but he feels nervous talking to Bakugou like this, and as a result his talkative energy is coming out in full force. It’s like he opens his mouth and then he just can’t seem to stop. 

But then, to his surprise, Bakugou laughs.  

“The long story short is that those guys are dicks who are so fucking threatened just because I’m on their team,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets. Izuku is confused for a moment, not sure why Bakugou would be threatening to them, unless he's really good. Or . . . oh. 

“Is it a secondary gender thing?” Izuku asks, quietly. 

“Yeah.” 

Izuku nods, but stays silent because he doesn’t know what to say. It was only a few years ago that male omegas were allowed to join the men’s sports. As far as Izuku knows, Bakugou might be the first one to actually join a team, though. 

“That’s really brave of you.” 

Bakugou stops and turns back to him, his expression hardened again. 

“Don’t do that,” he insists. “It’s not brave or noble or whatever the hell people like to say. I’m on the team because I’m fucking good at hockey, okay? That’s all it is and that’s all I want it to be.” 

“Sorry,” Izuku mumbles. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.” 

“No one means to,” Bakugou says, walking again. “But it still fucking sucks. I swear if another journalism major asks me how it feels to be the only omega on the team I’m gonna lose my shit.” 

“That happens a lot, I’m guessing?” 

“Only three, but that’s three times too many,” he sighs. Izuku cracks a small smile at that, but is interrupted from continuing the conversation when his phone rings. 

Incoming Call - Shinsou

“Ah, crap,” he sighs, remembering the friend he’d left behind at the party. He answers the call and presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Uh, so you’re cool to get home by yourself, right?” 

“Yeah, why? Everything okay?” he asks, not bothering to mention the fact that he’s already on his way home anyway. 

“Hah, yeah, great. Listen, I won’t be home tonight.”

“Oh, got it,” Izuku laughs. “I’m guessing things are going well with Kaminari?” 

“Fucking amazing. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Gotta go.”

“Everything okay?” Bakugou asks him once he hangs up the phone. He nods and slides it back into his pocket. 

“Yeah, I think my best friend is getting laid,” Izuku sighs. “Is your friend okay?” 

“She’ll be fine,” he sighs. “She’s friends with the sorority girls there and was planning on spending the night anyway.” 

“Oh,” is all Izuku can think of to say. If he and Bakugou were actually dating this would be the perfect set-up to invite the omega back to his place. But they’re not, and that would be totally crazy anyway, right? He glances at the omega walking next to him, almost wishing he had an excuse to sidle up and put his arm around him again. With no one watching, Izuku’s not sure he could make a case for it, though. 

“My dorm is this way,” he says, pausing when they reach a fork in their path on campus. Izuku nods, knowing full well which way the undergrad dorms are. And Bakugou is probably well aware that Izuku lives in the graduate apartments on the other side of campus. “Guess I’ll see you in class next week.” 

“Yeah,” Izuku says again. “Do you uh, want me to walk you back?” 

“Uh, no, I got it,” he scoffs. Hah. Yeah. Of course he does! “And . . . thanks again for earlier. That was pretty cool of you, I guess.” 

“Of course,” Izuku says, smiling as Bakugou gives him a quiet wave and starts off in the opposite direction. He can’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment that their conversation is ending so soon. But he also can’t think of any other good reason to try and prolong it. 

So he has to just let him go. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s teammates won’t bother him when their coach is in sight. They can’t deny their harassment if he witnesses it personally. But it doesn’t mean that they aren’t purposely obnoxious whenever he’s in their presence. 

Like now, for example, when they’re all sitting on the bench during a practice match. Katsuki tries his best to focus on the game in front of him, gripping his stick as hard as he can to hold himself back from saying anything. 

“Fucking a bitch in heat is the best you can get when it comes to sex,” one of them posits. It takes every ounce of self control Katsuki has to not interject with hey maybe don’t call omegas bitches! 

“You gotta be careful with that shit man,” another says, shaking his head. “They’re more likely to lie about being on birth control in heat. Don’t wanna end up trapped.” 

Not even true? What the fuck? If anything, omegas want to protect themselves more when they’re in heat because they know how vulnerable they are. 

“Yeah, but heat pussy, ” he groans. “They should bring back breeding houses. That way you could pop a knot in one without consequences.” 

“Breeding houses were abusive and dehumanizing, but whatever,” Katsuki says, finally cracking under the pressure. He curses to himself because he knows they were just trying to get him riled up by being nasty and perverted. 

“Aw, does that hurt your feelings?” Yoarashi coos. Katsuki rolls his eyes and avoids looking over at either of them. 

“Probably jealous because you’d need a mating house for someone to want to knot your stinky pussy,” Shishikura scoffs.  Again, he doesn’t have a fucking pussy . 

“I mean, I have an alpha,” he reminds them, even though it’s a lie. It feels good in the moment to prove them wrong, but he really should have expected them to take that and run with it. 

“That fucking runt? He fucks you good, huh?” Yoarashi teases. Katsuki stiffens, his ears burning as he tries to ward off mental images of Midoriya naked. “Careful, if you get pregnant, they’ll kick you off the team.” 

“Actually that’s a great idea. If your alpha isn’t up for the challenge, I’m sure we could find someone potent enough to pup you.” 

Katsuki’s stomach churns so sharply he could vomit. 

“Bakugou, you’re in!” 

Thank fuck. 

He leaps from the bench and over the wall faster than he ever has before, eager to throw himself into the game. Flying across the ice with the cold air stinging his face— it’s his happy place, the only time where he feels like he can really get away from all the shit he has to deal with. It’s ironic, since half the time the biggest offenders are on the ice with him. But at least there, he can channel his anger into the sport and remind them why he’s there. 

Whether they’re teasing him or threatening sexual violence, they always seem to conveniently forget that he has more goals under his belt this season than both of them combined. 

If only there was a way to make them stop, but at this point it just seems hopeless. The sexual assault and threats of rape are always dismissed, the attitude always being that Katsuki should realize that kind of attention is a compliment. That for some fucked up reason, he should be thankful that multiple alphas want to put their hands on him and fuck him uninvited. 

He tried to see it from that perspective at first, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. That hey, maybe they’re just into him and so sexually frustrated that they don’t know what to do about it. 

But then he made the mistake of bringing that up in an argument and ended up with bruised ribs. 

All that’s left to do is just ignore and avoid them at all costs. 

He refuses to let them chase him away from the sport he loves most. 

After practice, he takes his skates off in the bleachers and packs them into his bag, not bothering to remove any of his gear before exiting the arena. 

“Gear stays in the locker room,” Coach reminds him, catching him as he makes it to the exit. Katsuki grimaces, hoping this time he’d be able to leave promptly without having to wait around for an hour for the locker room to clear out. “And you can’t stay here, there’s a youth tournament that has the rink booked this afternoon.” 

Weekend practices are the worst for this very reason. And after the comments made during their scrimmage, he really doesn’t want to be anywhere near the others. 

“Is there any way I could use another locker room?” he asks, quickly. Coach just shakes his head. 

“Listen, you omegas wanted this. If you can’t handle the locker room, you can’t handle being on the team. I don’t want to hear it,” he says, and Katsuki’s heart falls. He’s not sure what he was expecting. Beyond recognizing his skill during games, the coach has made it clear that he doesn’t give a shit what his gender is— he’s not about to make any extra accommodations for any reason. 

With a defeated sigh, Katsuki heads back to the locker room. As soon as he enters, every pair of eyes is on him, watching and following him to his locker. He keeps his eyes lowered, especially avoiding looking at any of the players walking around naked like it’s no big deal. His head stays down as he strips to his shorts and undershirt so he can shove his pads back into the stupid locker. 

His underclothes are sweaty and sticky but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna try changing out of that shit. 

“Katsuki.” 

Fuck.  

He makes the mistake of turning around to see both Yoarashi and Shishikura buck naked. Startled, he averts his eyes and turns back to his locker. 

“Come on, I need an omega’s opinion. Whose cock would you rather have during heat?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Neither,” Katsuki mutters, refusing to look. He just needs to grab his stuff and get the fuck out—

“Answer the damn question and you can leave,” Yoarashi demands, shoving him into the locker and forcing him to turn around. 

“Dude, come on,” one of the other, uninvolved players sighs. While most of his other teammates don’t partake in the same level of humiliation and abuse that these two do, they really don’t ever do anything to intervene. They act like they’re tired of them causing a scene, not that they’re really that bothered by Katsuki getting harassed. 

“Don’t want either of your fuckin’ pencil dicks,” Katsuki spits. “My dick is bigger than that.” 

“Yeah?” Shishikura hums. Shit. 

"Seriously dude, that's the kind of shit that's gonna get us all in trouble," another teammate adds. Right. Because it's not about Katsuki feeling safe or these assholes being decent human beings. It's about not getting in trouble. 

"Fine," Yoarashi says, backing off. But not before spitting at Katsuki. It hits him right in the face, but he does his best not to react to it. Just watch closely as they finally leave. 

"You gotta just ignore them. They keep going after you because you react and get all riled up," the other guy continues to say. 

Katsuki just scowls as the guy shakes his head and walks away. He doesn't get it. No one fucking gets it. 

Angry, he pulls on a clean sweatshirt and slams his locker door shut. At least he can go back to his own freaking room and shut everyone out the rest of the day. 

But of course, he can't catch a damn break and his phone starts to ring. 

Incoming Call- Mom

He takes a deep breath, calming himself and concentrating on his tone as he answers the call. 

"Hey mom!" he chirps, trying to sound as cheerful and positive as possible. 

"Hi baby, how are you? I didn't hear from you yesterday," she coos, doting as ever. She means well, and Katsuki loves her. But he had to put so much into convincing her to let him join the team when he was first offered a spot. She had put up such a fuss about his safety and being worried about him, so she would be absolutely distraught if she knew how bad things had gotten. 

“Good, I’m great,” he lies. “Just got out of practice, actually.” 

“Yeah? How was it?” 

“So fun,” he insists. “I’m probably gonna catch up with the team later to hang out and study, you know.” 

“Oh, that’s great. I’m glad you’re getting along with your teammates so nicely. I was really worried about you being the only omega on the team,” she says. And you had every right to worry! They’re awful! 

“Well, things are changing, and people are a lot more open minded these days,” he says, even though it breaks his heart to lie to her like this. He and his mother had always been super close growing up. Anytime he had a problem in school, she was there to make it right, even if it meant marching into the building herself and demanding to speak to someone. 

It sounds intense, but it’s not atypical for an alpha mother like Mitsuki to be over-protective of her omega son. Instincts, nature, whatever. 

“That’s good to hear,” she says. “How are your classes? Are you getting your work done?” 

Ah, shit. 

“Working on it,” he says, purposely facetious. “Taking advantage of tutoring for philosophy. It’s pretty confusing.” 

“That’s good, I’m sure that helps,” she affirms. “Are you making any new friends?” 

“I mean, besides my team? There’s Camie, but I already told you about her.” 

“Oh, the figure skater, right?” 

“Yeah,” he says, wracking his brain for anyone else he could tell her about. His nose scrunches in confusion as Midoriya’s face flashes in his mind. They aren’t friends. Fake boyfriends, maybe, but they hardly even know each other. Nah, it’s fine. It doesn’t count. “I’ve been so busy with school and practice, it’s kind of hard to squeeze in socializing.” 

“Right, of course,” she says. She then dives into another story about how she’s putting his dad on a new fad diet, and that they’re putting new flowers in the garden next weekend. It’s not terribly exciting stuff, but it helps him feel connected to home, so he lets her talk as he makes his way back to his room. 

Izuku looks up from his laptop as the door to the apartment swings open. Amused by the fact that Shinsou is getting home at three o’clock in the afternoon, he closes the computer and gives him an expectant look. 

“Welcome home, finally,” he laughs. “I was starting to worry.” 

“Well, I was just downstairs, you knew exactly where I was,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the vague mention of the beta he had spent the night with. “But holy shit , that guy has some stamina.” 

“Did you guys go running or something?” he asks, then realizes how stupid he sounds as Shinsou’s entire face cracks into bewildered grin. 

“I’m talking about sex. As in, we fucked like seven times,” he says, like he doesn’t even believe it himself. “And we have our first date tomorrow.” 

“Isn’t that a little out of order?” Izuku asks. 

“You don’t have to date someone before you sleep with them,” he says. “There’s a tip for you, Izuku. Maybe it’ll help you get your dick wet finally.” 

“Shut up,” he scoffs, tossing one of the throw pillows from the couch in his direction. 

It’s true. Izuku is twenty-five years old and has never once had sex. He had a boyfriend in middle school, but all they did was hold hands, and then Izuku cried when they broke up after only a week. One time, in undergrad, he kissed a girl at a bar because one of her friends dared her to flirt with him. 

It’s not because he doesn’t want to have sex. He definitely does, and he definitely finds many people attractive. It’s just that he has no idea how to initiate things and when he ends up in situations where things could happen, he always ends up finding a way to screw it up. 

“How do you do that?” Izuku asks him, as he sits down on the couch. 

“Do what?” 

“Just . . . go home with someone and sleep with them,” he specifies. His mind flashes to when he and Bakugou were walking back to campus, like some weird intrusive thought. It’s definitely not what his intention was there, but for some reason his brain chooses to remind him. 

“I think your problem is that you’re too much of a determinist,” he says, putting it into terms that Izuku can understand. “You think everything is just going to fall into place as it should, when really you need to use your own free will and make things to happen.” 

“I’m not deterministic,” Izuku scoffs. “More like . . . fatalist. Everything happens for a reason, but I choose my own path.” 

“Do you, though?” Shinsou raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” Izuku says, defensively. 

“If you were forging your own path, you’d make a move, set yourself up for success when you see something you want,” he explains. “Or I guess, in this situation, someone you want.” 

Again, Bakugou’s face flashes in his mind. Argh, no! Stupid!

“Whatever, I guess I’ll die alone,” Izuku mumbles, taking a jab at the fact that Shinsou’s advice was not helpful in the slightest bit. 

“Yeah, because everyone loves a nihilistic determinist,” Shinsou teases. Izuku opens his mouth to protest, but Shinsou beats him to it. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. What did you end up doing last night? Sorry to ditch you so quickly.” 

“I mean, clearly you had more important things to do,” he rolls his eyes. “I ran into one of the Philosophy 100 students I’m tutoring.” 

“Yeah? It’s so fucking weird, right? To see them in class, and then to see them all trashed at a party,” he laughs. 

“Sure. Anyway, some guys were giving him a hard time, so I threw my drink at them and ran off. How’s that for free will?” 

“Holy shit, no way. I’m calling bullshit, you did not do that.” 

“I definitely did,” he laughs. “We walked back to campus together and then . . . I went home and went to bed early.” 

“Damn, what a lame ending,” he sighs. “For a second there, I was hoping you’d say you walked back to campus and fucked in his dorm room.” 

“Shinsou!” he shrieks, his face bright red as he processes his friend’s words. And he seems very intrigued by Izuku’s blatant over reaction. “You can’t say that, he’s an undergrad student.” 

“Why not? He’s an adult,” Shinsou shrugs. “But ah, I would love to know what’s got you so worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up,” he says, even though now he can’t get the stupid image out of his head! What if he had tapped into his own free will and invited Bakugou back to his— ah, no! He would have turned him down outright.  

“Uh huh, sure.” 

“But . . . Oh I didn’t tell you about that,” he sighs. Shinsou cocks his head to the side to show his interest. “He’s on the hockey team and his teammates think we’re dating.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks, perplexed. “You’re pretending to date an undergrad hockey player?” 

“When you say it like that, it sounds weird.” 

“It is weird . . . wait is this the omega?” he asks, like he just remembered something. Izuku puzzles, but nods. “Shit, I read about him in the school paper. Did you know he’s the first omega to play for the UA Men’s team?” 

“Yeah, I figured,” he sighs. 

“That’s cool, good for him,” Shinsou says, approvingly. “Are you into him?” 

“What? No, I was just helping him out. There’s a few jerks on his team that are messing with him, so I just stepped in, and now . . . it’s a thing, I guess,” Izuku shrugs, trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal. It’s not, really. Outside of tutoring and that one party, he highly doubts it’s even going to come up. It’s not like his family thinks they’re dating. 

“Is he cute?” 

“No! I mean, yeah, he’s cute but— Not the point!” 

“We should go to a game, I’m suddenly really interested in hockey,” he says, even though they both know he’s even less of a sports fan than Izuku is. (Which is not at all.) 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says, watching as Shinsou takes out his phone. 

“I have a friend who works at the stadium, she could totally get us tickets for the student section,” he says, already typing out a message. Izuku groans and pouts, but maybe he’s getting all worked up for nothing. Bakugou probably wouldn’t even notice he was there.

“Fine, but only because it’s not a big deal,” Izuku shrugs. Maybe if he keeps saying that, he can make himself believe it, too. 

“Sweet, there’s a game on Wednesday.” 

“Wednesday? Why Wednesday?” he scoffs. That’s only a few days away! He needs more time to wallow in his own self doubt. 

“Because . . . it’s on the schedule?” Shinsou shrugs. “I don’t make the rules. She says their next couple of games after that are away, so we should totally go to this one.” 

“Okay . . . fine, fine, fine. We’ll go. And it will be boring because neither of us know anything about hockey, so don’t complain to me,” Izuku huffs. 

And Izuku continues to insist to himself that it isn’t a big deal, even when Bakugou shows up to tutoring on Monday evening. He drops his backpack down on the library table with a loud thud and then plops down in the chair. Izuku stares at him for a moment, like he’s surprised that he showed up at all. 

Which is stupid, because duh. He said he would be here. 

“Hi,” Izuku says, clearing his throat. “How are you?” 

“Great,” Katsuki sighs, even though he certainly doesn’t look great. In fact, he looks pretty rough. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well or something. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, fuck, what do you want me to say?” he snaps, making Izuku jump. “Sorry, I’m just fuckin’ tired, okay? I want to get this over with.” 

“Right, okay, we can do that,” Izuku nods. He opens the book to the section they left off on and scans the page to refresh his memory. 

"So, I went back and actually read this chapter—" Good! That's what he should have done in the first place!— "And this shit is stupid." 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"The whole thing about every choice you make being predetermined like someone has already written out their plan for you." 

Hmm. 

"It's just one school of thought," Izuku explains, even though he can feel his face heating up. If only Shinsou hadn't cursed this concept by applying it to his sex life (or lack thereof)! 

"And?" 

"It's not saying that this is definitely the way things are. There were early philosophers that believed this to be true, while others fully believe in free will," Izuku explains. 

"Okay, but I made a choice to come here today." 

"Or did you? According to a determinist, that choice isn't even a choice at all," Izuku counters. 

"That's bullshit." 

"It doesn't mean it's the absolute truth. No one can really know for sure what's predetermined and what's not." 

"No offense, but Philosophy is stupid." 

"People think it's stupid because they don't understand it," he sighs. "For me I like to use it as a way to interpret the world around me and make sense of things. Most people are not determinists. If they were, then our court systems would be a lot more messed up than they already are." 

"Yeah, okay," Bakugou says, skeptically. He definitely isn't buying into it. 

"You don't have to subscribe to every school of thought. Think of it as a hypothetical; if that helps." 

"It doesn't." 

"Okay then." 

They're silent again, and Izuku can't help but feel a little awkward. And he knows he shouldn't— he knows what he's talking about and everything. He just wants Bakugou to enjoy his time. 

"You really like this stuff?" Bakugou asks, nodding towards the textbook. 

"I mean, yeah? I wouldn't be getting my Ph.D. in it if I didn't," he shrugs. 

"It just seems like a lot of made up stuff," Bakugou sighs. "Makes no sense." 

"And hockey makes no sense to me," he scoffs. For a moment, he swears Bakugou cracks a smile and it's really . . . cute. Crap . “I’m sorry, I know you’re not taking this class by choice.” 

“I technically did, though. Needed something to fill an elective credit and I was not about to sign up for a damn art class,” he chuckles. He has a nice laugh. Airy and casual. 

“Wow. I guess I just assumed you wouldn’t have normally chosen this class,” he sighs. “You know, since you can’t stay awake during it.” 

And the tension is back. Izuku really is bad at this whole thing. Whatever this whole thing is. 

“All of my classes are morning classes, it just works better with my schedule,” is all he says on the matter, not bothering with any other details. But the shift in his tone is mildly concerning and reminds Izuku that he really doesn’t know much about Bakugou at all. 

“That makes sense,” Izuku replies. He looks back down at the text. “So the assignment for these chapters was to make an argument for either free will or determinism. And it sounds like you’ve already chosen your side on that one.” 

“Fuck me,” Katsuki groans, throwing his head back in frustration. It would be highly inappropriate for Izuku to respond with gladly, so he opts to say nothing at all. 

Chapter Text

When Katsuki wakes up the next morning, he’s jolted by not one, but two alarms. One that’s telling him it’s time to wake up, and another that’s actually a calendar reminder for . . . 

Friday - Heat Begins 

Fuck. He knew it was coming up, but he thought he had at least a little more time. Or that the alphas on his team would stop bothering him by the time it came around. But based on their nasty comments from last practice, he can’t imagine this going well in the slightest. 

He gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom to rifle through his medicine cabinet, just to double check that he’s stocked up on scent patches and hormone blockers. The directions advise to use only one or the other, but Katsuki isn’t going to take any chances. Hell, he’s gonna go ahead and start wearing the scent patches anyway on the off chance his preheat pheromones are detectable. 

He opens one of them and slaps it over the scent gland on his neck, then applies two smaller ones to his wrists. It might be overkill, and he already feels a little nauseous, but it makes him feel a little safer. Because at the end of the day, he knows that if he were to be sexually assualted while on heat, he would be the one getting blamed for it. 

Alphas can’t control their instincts to breed when an omega is in heat! 

He steps out of the bathroom and immediately feels lightheaded. He can’t remember the last time he’s worn scent blockers like this. Maybe just on his neck if he had to go out while in heat, but never all three at once. 

Even still, he’s determined to make it through the week.  

Laying back down on his bed, he opens his laptop and begins typing into the internet search bar. 

How to get rid of pheromones in heat

The articles that populate aren’t helpful. Most are health blogs about how it’s natural to produce pheromones, and beautiful because it’s the omega’s way of staying in tune with their own body. And that it’s a part of the reproductive cycle and shouldn’t be suppressed. 

Omega pheromones are used to attract a mate during a heat. Before forming a bond, an omega might attract several alphas and even some betas with their sultry scent. While bonded, however, the scent can become muddled. Almost like an Alpha’s warning signal to others that their mate is taken and well-bred.

That’s certainly interesting, though. 

—

Bakugou is in section two, the class that meets every Tuesday and Thursday morning. It’s not a very full class . . . or a very lively one, but it’s okay. It gives Izuku a bit of an easier start to his day.  

This time, Bakugou enters the room on time and briefly makes eye contact with Izuku. The interaction makes Izuku’s heart squeeze because for just a moment he thinks that Bakugou might decide to sit closer to the front. But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he turns the other way and sets up in his usual spot in the back. 

As the lecture begins, Izuku tries not to pay too much attention to what Bakugou is doing, but he can’t help stealing a few glances every now and then. He isn’t taking notes or participating in the discussion, but he is sitting up and awake. That’s an improvement, at least. 

“I have a question about my grade on the essay,” Uraraka Ochako says as soon as class ends. She’s still sitting in her seat, flipping through a binder until she finds what she’s looking for and produces a printed copy of her graded essay. 

“Okay, what’s the problem with it?” Izuku wants to know. 

“I got a B on the essay and I’m not sure why?” she scoffs, as if there is no way she could possibly get anything less than perfect. He sighs and takes the papers from her so that he can read over and refresh his memory. 

“Ah, yeah, this is a great essay, but I wanted you to give more of an analysis, rather than just explain what other people think. I want to know what you think,” he smiles. “I already know what Aristotle thinks.” 

“Um, okay,” she says, still looking a bit disappointed. Izuku’s eyes flicker over her shoulder as Bakugou approaches, then hangs back to give Uraraka her turn to speak. It looks like he’s waiting to meet with him. 

“Next time, let me know and I’d be happy to look over a first draft, okay?” he offers, and she nods along. She juts out her bottom lip in a pout, and Izuku holds onto his neutral expression. Just because she looks sad about it doesn’t mean he’s going to change her grade. 

“Okay, I’ll do that,” she mumbles, moving to pack up her things so that Bakugou can get through. 

“Hi, what’s up?” he asks, smiling wide. 

“I emailed my essay to you this morning, I just wanted to make sure you got it,” he says, glancing over as Uraraka storms out of the room. It leaves the two of them as the only people left in the room. 

“Let me check,” Izuku says. He can’t explain why his fingers shake as he opens his laptop and sifts through his email. He locates the file and downloads it. “Yeah, got it. Did you finish it already?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I think it’s mostly shit, but it’s done, isn’t it?” 

“I suppose something is better than nothing,” Izuku sighs. “Do you have a class right now? We could go over it together.” 

“No, not on Tuesdays,” he says. 

“Great, let's go to my office,” he says, picking up his belongings. It’s not really his office. He shares it with Shinsou and a couple of other candidates. But it’s usually empty. Not that it matters, of course. 

He leads Bakugou down the hall and upstairs where all the faculty offices are for the building. The hallways are dark and narrow. It’s quiet because there aren’t many people that use these halls or offices unless there’s a meeting. 

“Here,” Izuku says, pushing the door open and leading him into the small, shared office space. Izuku’s desk is in the corner, covered with stacks of papers and books. “Sorry it’s so cramped in here. You can pull up that chair.” 

He nods towards the empty desk chair at Shinsou’s desk. Once they’re both seated at his desk again, Izuku opens his laptop to get back to the essay. As he reads through it, he can’t help but be hyper-aware of the fact that Bakugou is sitting so close to him. He smells like aftershave and a warm hug. 

“This is actually really good,” Izuku says. 

“Tch, what do you mean actually?”  

“I don’t know, you wrote it in one night, I assumed it would be a little rushed,” Izuku shrugs. “But your argument is pretty solid, and you used the right concepts to aid your analysis.” 

“Great, so it’s an A?” 

“Well, no,” he sighs. “You’re turning it in a week late, I have to deduct for that.” 

“Ah, damn,” he says, shaking his head. Izuku beams as he turns to him, but then gets flustered as their knees brush together. 

“I was just gonna say that if you do your assignments when you’re supposed to, you could probably manage an A by the end of the semester,” Izuku gulps. Bakugou just shrugs. 

“I could,” he nods. “But I also don’t see my schedule clearing up any time soon. I’m just gonna have to play the catch up game this whole semester.” 

“Not necessarily! You’ve been meeting with me and I noticed you didn’t sleep through class today,” he points out. “If you keep it up, the work isn’t going to pile up and snowball out of control.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“That didn’t take nearly as much time as I thought it would. Did you have any other questions for me?” Izuku asks him. Bakugou just stares at him for a moment, like there’s something brewing in his mind, but he isn’t sure how to say it. 

—

Katsuki stares hard at Midoriya for a moment, and all he can think about is how he has to leave soon to get to the damn locker room. And the plan rolls over again and again in his head to account for anything that could possibly go wrong. 

And his anxiety is only building, because just he’d gotten that reminder on his phone that his heat is due to arrive at the end of the week and he still doesn’t know what to do about it outside of using the blockers and patches. 

“Bakugou?” Midoriya repeats, looking a little confused by his sudden pause. 

Midoriya doesn’t seem to be like the other alphas he knows. He seems nice and relaxed and doesn’t talk down to Katsuki because of their gender dynamics. 

But it would be crossing a line to ask him to bond just to get through an impending heat, wouldn’t it? That way, he also runs the risk of Midoriya being all over him and trying to get into his pants. He’d hate to put the guy in that predicament. 

He’d also much rather try to ward off Midoriya’s advances than anyone on his team’s. 

“I do have a question,” he says, swallowing over his dry throat. Is it hot in that office? It feels way too fucking hot all of a sudden. “It’s not about philosophy.” 

“Ah, okay, sure.” 

“Or maybe it is,” he backtracks, his heart racing. “Like an ethical dilemma. That’s philosophical, right?” 

“I suppose so.” 

“Okay so . . . Say someone you knew was at risk of . . . something bad happening. Fuck, lets say it’s an omega in heat. And said omega is not going to be safe during said heat. Would you, hypothetically, think it would be ethical to help out?” he says, stumbling and stammering through his weak hypothetical situation. 

“Well, I think it’s always ethical to help out someone in need,” he says. “Using a utilitarian school of thought, I would say that as long as my motives were to help, and that the consequences of helping would be more morally sound than not helping . . . I guess it depends on what helping out would entail and whether or not I would have to go against my own moral code.” 

Katsuki stares at him, his brain desperately trying to process Midoriya’s response. “What?” 

“In short, it depends. Why?” he asks, looking concerned. Katsuki takes a deep breath. He should just drop it, right? He can deal with this on his own without Midoriya’s help. 

“Fuck,” Katsuki mutters, finally biting the proverbial bullet and pulling up the sleeves of his shirt to show Midoriya the patches on his arms. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to cover those glands,” Midoriya warns, his eyes going wide. 

“I know,” Katsuki says. “But I’m not about to have fucking Yoarashi and the others smelling me.” 

“Oh because . . . you’re the omega in heat,” he says, his cheeks going fully red. It’s kind of cute in a fucked up way, but he knows it’s probably just because Midoriya is awkward talking about a subject like that. 

“Yeah,” he says, pursing his lips and pushing his sleeves back down to cover up. 

“And you’re not . . .safe? What’s happening that you don’t feel safe?” he asks, his concern building with each question. Maybe Katsuki shouldn’t have said anything. Dammit. 

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m handling it.” 

“Clearly it’s not if you’re asking me about this! Is there something I can do to help you? Because I think it would go against my moral code to not help you if I knew something bad could happen,” he rambles on. It’s kind of sweet that he actually cares, but also kind of annoying. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up,” he sighs. “I can’t ask you to help. You’ve already done enough.” 

“Just tell me,” Midoriya insists. “Please? And then I will decide whether or not to help via my own free will. You did say in your essay that you believed in free will.” 

“Don’t use philosophy against me,” Katsuki scoffs. “Fuckin’ nerd.” 

“I mean, that’s what it’s for, isn’t it?” he asks, and then switches back to being serious. “I mean it, though. What do you need? I know we don’t know each other very well, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” 

“Well, that’s the problem,” Katsuki mutters. “You don’t know me, so I can’t ask you for what I need. . . But you’re also the only alpha I know of that isn’t a total shit head.” 

“Thank you?” 

Katsuki hates this entire conversation, not because he hates Midoriya, but because he shouldn’t even have to resort to this kind of thing. Yoarashi and Shishikura should just . . . not be assholes and their coach should be doing more to keep them in check. 

But it’s how things are, and how they’re going to be for a while. He’s only one person; he can’t just change their minds. 

“Fine, but don’t look at me,” Katsuki finally says, which Midoriya seems taken aback by. “Just turn around.” 

“Um, okay.” And he does. He swivels in his desk chair and their knees brush together once more. Fuck. Here goes nothing. 

“You could bond with me.” 

“What?!” Midoriya shrieks, immediately spinning back around to face him. His entire damn face is red and his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his damn head. 

“See, that’s why I said nevermind, it’s a fucked up thing to ask you to do, so I’m not going to,” he scoffs, raising his voice as he grows more and more defensive. 

“I mean . . . a bond is a big deal, isn’t it?” 

“Sure, but we could always break it later on. Like when Yoarashi and Shishikura graduate,” he scoffs. “Hypothetically.” 

Midoriya goes silent for a moment, but Katsuki can practically see the gears in his head turning over and over again. He’s actually fucking considering it. 

“Okay, I’ll do it.” 

“What do you mean? You’re not fucking doing it,” Katsuki scoffs. Fuck, he’s embarrassed for saying anything at all now! It’s one thing telling the others that Midoriya is his boyfriend. It would be a whole other level of seriousness if they think he’s his mate.

Harder to keep up an act for that. But also more likely that he won’t get fucking raped in the locker room.The thought alone sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Why not?” 

“For starters, what if you met someone you actually wanted to mate with while we were bonded. What then?” he points out. Midoriya is a few years older than him at least . Who knows? He’s probably already planning out that sort of thing. 

“This may come as a surprise to you, but people aren’t exactly lining up down the block to be with me—Hey, why are you laughing at that?!” 

Okay, maybe it’s rude, but Katsuki can’t help it. He’s a short alpha nerd who wears cardigans. And fuck Katsuki can’t stop laughing at the way Midoriya’s cheeks puff up and his ears turn bright red. He’s so flustered and it’s—Argh. 

“Sorry, fuck,” Katsuki says, trailing off with a sigh. He feels a little bit lighter after that, actually. It’s been a while since he’s laughed that much. 

“My point is that I don’t think it would be a problem,” Midoriya says. “The only problem might be that if we create a bond and then you . . . ah, you know. Your heat.”

He says it like it’s a dirty word. Like some kid that’s embarrassed to say the names of private parts. 

“What about it?” he asks, though he’s sure he knows what Midoriya means. If they’re bonded they might have the urge to . . . “It’s fine, we’ll just stay far away from each other and there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Are you sure?” Midoriya asks. 

“Are you sure?” Katsuki fires back. Midoriya grimaces and leans back in his chair. His hand idly moves to his neck, rubbing at his scent gland as he mulls it over. Katsuki’s chest buzzes with anticipation, mostly because every fiber of his being is begging him to rip off these stupid ass scent patches. 

There’s no way he’d make it till fucking Friday. 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he finally says. “As in bond. The bond. ” 

“Right,” Katsuki says, suddenly bursting with excitement. It’s weird, but it’s great and holy fuck it might actually work! “Can we do it now? Is anyone else using this office today?” 

“Yeah, hold on,” he says. Katsuki pretends he doesn’t notice the way Midoriya scrambles out of his chair and nearly trips over his own two feet as he makes his way to the door. After he’s sure it’s locked, he hurries back over to the desk. “Just in case.” 

Katsuki nods and removes his sweatshirt so that his neck isn’t covered by his hood. Midoriya’s eyes go straight to the large scent patch slapped over his scent gland. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Katsuki mutters, both avoiding the question and answering it at the same time. With a deep, concentrating breath to guide him, he pulls at the adhesive patch and rips it off his neck first. 

“Oh my god,” Midoriya suddenly gasps. 

“What, you don’t like my scent?” 

“No! Not that! It’s just . . . I can see why you don’t want just anyone smelling that,” he says. Katsuki groans—That must mean the preheat is already kicking in. Or maybe it’s because he’s been wearing patches non stop for over twenty-four hours. (While ignoring the label that tells consumers not to wear for longer than 6 hours at a time.) 

“Oh,” Katsuki says, swallowing. He’s not quite sure what else to say. All at once it seems to dawn on him that he’s placing a lot of trust into Izuku with this. He barely knows the guy and it’s entirely possible that this might get him into an even more precarious situation than he’s already in. 

“So, um,” Midoriya mumbles. 

And before he continues, the door rattles as someone tries to enter. When the intruder realizes it’s locked, they bang on the outside as hard as they can. 

“Darn, hold on,” Midoriya sighs, getting up to check on it. Katsuki spins around in his chair to face the door, curious to see who it might be. Whoever it is, they better hurry up or Katsuki’s going to end up talking himself out of the whole bond thing. 

Once the door is open, another alpha enters the room. He’s taller than Midoriya and wears all black. 

“Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?” he asks when he notices Katsuki. His nostrils flare and all of a sudden Katsuki feels naked without the damn scent patches. 

“We were going over his essay, it’s fine,” Midoriya stammers. The guy straightens up and shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweater, a knowing smirk spreading across his lips. 

“You’re on the hockey team, aren’t you?” He addresses Katsuki, totally unfazed by Midoriya’s excuse. Katsuki nods slowly. 

“Yeah, so?” 

“Nice,” he says. “In that case, I’ll come back later. You two have fun.” 

“Shinsou!” Midoriya warns through gritted teeth. “Sorry, this is Shinsou, he’s another philosophy TA, you can ignore him.” 

“And your best friend in the entire world, why are you selling me so short, Izuku?” Shinsou asks, his tone sarcastic and teasing. The way they talk to each other makes it sound like they’ve known each other for a long time. 

“Best friend, huh?” Katsuki shrugs. 

“Yeah, and Izuku here is a great guy, but I’m sure you already know that. Super smart, super nice—” 

“Okay, okay, we get it, I thought you were leaving!” Midoriya says, blushing and shooing him away. It’s mildly amusing to watch them interact that way. He also notices the way that Midoriya doesn’t change his tune just because another alpha entered the room. He's still himself; no dominating pheromones in the slightest 

Finally, Shinsou gives him a quick wave and heads out the door again. Midoriya slams it shut behind him and turns the lock. 

“Sorry about that,” Midoriya mumbles. “He likes to embarrass me.” 

“It’s fine,” Katsuki shrugs. 

“That’s the friend who ditched me at the party the other day,” he sighs, so that Katsuki can make that connection. He nods along and silence starts to hang between them. 

“So . . . the bond,” Katsuki swallows. 

“The bond.” 

He steps closer to Katsuki, wringing his hands together nervously. Katsuki’s chest flutters, but he leans his head to the side and closes his eyes. 

“Wait,” Midoriya says, before he leans in. “Bite me first.” 

“Huh?” 

“Whoever bites first is the one who can initiate a bond release if it comes to that. I um, I know you’re putting a lot of trust into me to let me do this so I just . . . I don’t want it to feel one-sided, you know?” 

Katsuki just stares at him, dumbstruck by the alpha’s offer. 

“Well, okay,” Katsuki says, taking that as his cue to stand. “I’ll break it when the season is over, is that okay?” 

Midoriya nods.

And then reaches up to pull down the collar of his turtleneck (Yes, a fucking turtleneck. What a nerd.) Katsuki steps closer to him and leans in. The closer he gets, the more he can really get a scent from him. He hadn’t noticed it before but it’s . . . nice. 

Really nice. 

Fuck, he’s really gonna do this. 

Without dwelling on it for too much longer, Katsuki leans in and slowly sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin. Midoriya shivers beneath him, groaning quietly from the pain. It feels like a jolt of electricity, like something inside of him had just been ignited. 

After he’s sure the bite took, he stands back and stares at the mark he left. A ring of cherry red teeth marks, glistening. 

“That was . . . ow,” Midoriya winces, twisting his head to the side like he’d be able to somehow see the side of his own neck. 

“Come on, my turn,” Katsuki mutters, sitting back down because he knows Midoriya wouldn’t be able to reach if they were standing. “Midoriya.” 

“Mhmm,” he hums, stepping closer. “I think . . . if we’re gonna be bonded, we should be on a first name basis.” 

“Fine, Izuku,” he rolls his eyes. Really he’s just eager to get it over with at this point so he can move on with his day. 

As Izuku leans forward, he braces himself against the arms of the chair. Katsuki closes his eyes, letting Izuku’s scent wash over him. He can feel the alpha’s breath swirling against his skin before his teeth lightly graze the flesh. 

When it finally happens, it’s like everything moves in slow motion for a moment. Izuku’s teeth pierce his skin and then all at once his entire body feels like it’s on fire, alight with the strength of the newly formed bond. 

Holy shit.  

Izuku pulls back so that they’re face to face. 

“Wow,” he breathes, sounding just as amazed as Katsuki feels. “That was . . . Wow.” 

He’s ready to express his own loss for words, but something else stops him in his tracks. Not Izuku’s scent, which is heavier than it was before. Not the way his neck burns both from the wound and the intensity of the bond. 

But the sudden slick feeling in his pants. 

Chapter Text

In most circumstances, Katsuki would like to think of himself as a level-headed and rational person. Someone who thinks carefully about their decisions before they make them. Someone with at least a shred of common sense. 

Not someone who impulsively mates with his Philosophy TA. 

What the fuck was he thinking?!

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Katsuki mutters to himself as he all but sprints back to his dorm room. He has just enough time to shut himself in his room to think. 

He throws his backpack aside and flings himself onto his bed. Burying his face into a pillow, he lets out a strangled groan. 

If he had been thinking clearly, and wasn't just desperate to get his teammates to leave him alone, he wouldn't have done this. He also wouldn't have done it if he knew it would send him right into his heat early! 

He thought he'd have more time before testing his theory. If he walks into that locker room and things don't work out, it could be very bad for Katsuki. 

It makes his fucking skin crawl just thinking about it.

He sits up in bed and presses the palms of his hands against his cheeks in an attempt to ground himself in the moment. He's okay, he's fine, he's not gonna die. But his pants are wet and that's fucking embarrassing. Nothing a quick change and maxi pad can't fix, though. 

After picking himself up and getting his wits about him, he considers whether or not he should even go to practice. 

His bite will be covered, nothing to worry about there. There is the lingering fear, however, that the bite didn't take the way it was supposed to. That he'd have to find out the hard way by getting attacked by his feral teammates in the locker room. 

Even worse, if he doesn't show up, every fucking person involved would use it as an excuse to kick him off the team. To hold him up and show the world Hey look! Omegas can't handle this after all! 

And somehow, in his twisted sense of reality, that's a fate far worse than anything that could happen to him physically. So he goes to the locker room. 

He holds his breath the entire time. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe he's early enough that— 

"I swear if we find out today that that bitch is starting tomorrow, I'm gonna lose my shit." 

Katsuki's stomach drops. Not a good sign if Yoarashi is talking about him before he's even in his line of sight. If he was feeling his usual self, he'd make a sparky comment reminding him that he's started in every other game so far . . . 

"The fuck are you looking at?" Yoarashi booms as soon as he enters the aisle that Katsuki's in. Katsuki freezes, unsure of what to do. 

"Nothing," he mumbles, turning back to the inside of his locker. He pulls out his skates and slings them over his shoulder. 

"If you had any respect for your upper classes you'd give up your starting position," he scoffs, still apparently stuck on that bit. Katsuki blinks, wondering what's going through the alpha’s head. Does he not smell him? 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. 

"If you care about the team winning, you wouldn't ask me to do that."

"Fucking punk—" 

He reels his fist back, ready to strike until Shishikura holds him back. 

"Dude, wait until after the game," he scoffs. Yoarashi grunts and mutters something obscene under his breath. He stalks down the aisle and spits at Katsuki as he passes by, finally just leaving him the fuck alone. 

Katsuki stares in disbelief, all worries from before leaving his mind as he reaches the realization: It worked. He presses his lips together to hold back a smile as he moves to check his phone one last time before locking it away for practice. 

He has one new email on his school account from Izuku.

Izuku is on cloud nine. 

He’s not sure what the heck just happened, but something changed when he and Katsuki bonded and it feels amazing. Like he took some sort of drug and the high hit all at once. Or at least, it feels that way until he sees the look on Katsuki’s face. Eyes wide, cheeks flushed. 

Something’s off. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku asks, concerned. 

“Yep, great, I have to leave,” he says. He stands as quickly as he can and rushes to the door, hand clamped over the wound on his neck. Izuku watches, his feet glued to the spot where he stands as his brain attempts to catch up with the situation. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but Katsuki is already gone. Maybe he had somewhere to be?

Before he can totally collect his thoughts, the door swings open again and he looks up, hopeful that Katsuki is returning. It’s also possible that he just had to go to the bathroom really badly or something. Ahh. 

“Did I just see what’s-his-name running down the hallway?” Shinsou asks, as he, unfortunately, is the one to step through the door. 

“Were you waiting outside?” Izuku scoffs, not answering his friend’s question. 

“I mean, I was down the hall, but yeah,” he shrugs. “I figured you two were banging it out in here so I gave you some privacy. But knowing you, it wasn’t gonna last very long.” 

“ Shinsou,” he hisses, embarrassed by his (probably true) assumption. “It’s not like that, we didn’t have sex.” 

Though the thought starts to cross his mind as he remembers that Katsuki said something about going into heat soon. Does that mean that he would want . . . you know? For Izuku to, um, help? 

“Then what were you doing?” He asks, folding his arms across his chest. Instinctively, Izuku’s hand flies to his neck to cover up the fresh bond mark. And, consequently, he ends up telling on himself by making such a brash and sudden movement. “Why are you covering your scent gland, Izuku?” 

“I’m not, my neck is just sore,” he lies. He shouldn’t lie to Shinsou—It’s basically inevitable that he’ll end up telling him what’s going on anyway. 

“From what? Sucking dick?” 

“No!” Izuku shrieks, his cheeks burning. Shinsou just laughs, and invites himself to sit on top of Izuku’s desk. He’s got this smug grin on his face, and Izuku isn’t really sure how to word his confession. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.” 

“I already think you’re crazy,” he replies instantly. Izuku lets go of a deep sigh. 

“Like, really crazy,” he reiterates. Shinsou raises an eyebrow, like he doubts that’s even possible. After a deep breath, Izuku finally removes his hand from his neck, slightly disgusted to find that blood is now smeared across his palm. 

“Holy fuck Izuku,” Shinsous says, his expression paling. He stands up immediately to inspect the bit. “Please tell me that’s not a fucking bond mark.” 

“Well, you did say I should do more on my own free will . . . “

“I meant like, flirt with a bartender or something,” he scoffs. “Not mate with a stranger.” 

"Maybe you should have clarified!" Izuku says, defensively. Obviously it isn't Shinsou's fault he made a snap decision, but now he's starting to overthink the whole thing. 

“I mean . . . what do you even know about him?” Shinsou asks. He sounds so protective, like some sort of overbearing parent. It’s endearing that he’s so concerned for Izuku, but it’s also kind of freaking him out. He would really much prefer it if Shinsou reacted happily for him and his brash decision making skills. 

“He’s . . . he plays hockey?” Izuku responds, warily. The reality slowly sets in as he thinks about it. Does he really know anything about Katsuki? Other than the fact that he’s an omega on the hockey team and he’s failing philosophy? (Well, not anymore, but he still isn’t doing that great.) 

“And how old is he?” 

“He’s a freshman, I think.” 

“Which means . . . “

“Oh my god, I have no idea how old he is,” Izuku gasps, panicking. He stumbles over to his desk and reaches around Shinsou for his laptop. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, staring as Izuku opens up the computer and begins typing. 

"Sending him an email." 

"An email," He repeats. Izuku looks up at him and squints. There's an argument there somewhere, he's sure, he just can't find it. Shinsou is great about sounding so smart when he's on the outside looking into a very deeply stressing situation. 

"I don't have his number. Yet! I don't have it yet , Shinsou," he scoffs. He turns back to his computer to type out his message anyway. 

Dear Bakugou Katsuki, 

I hope this email finds you well—

"Jeez, Izuku, this is your mate?" Shinsou scoffs, scrutinizing the formality. Izuku frowns— What is he supposed to say?! He's very quickly realizing that Shinsou is absolutely correct; he doesn't know anything meaningful about the man he just formed a bond with. 

How could he be so stupid?!

"Ahh," Izuku whines, deleting the email and trying again. 

Dear Katsuki—

How old are you? 

Also here's my phone number: xxx-xxxxx

Deku

He sends it off before Shinsou can pass judgment again. Which is maybe not the best idea. 

"You spelled your own name wrong." 

"Dammit!" he hisses, closing the laptop and shoving it out of his sight. 

"I'm sorry for giving you so much shit, this is all just . . . very surprising," he hums. His eyes lock onto the wound on Izuku's neck, like he's not quite sure he believes it's there. Izuku wouldn't believe it either if it weren't for the stinging still radiating from it.

"I know . . . It just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment," Izuku sighs. "He's been having issues with the alphas on his team." 

"What kind of issues?" 

Izuku shrugs. "He wouldn't tell me any details, but I gathered that he doesn't feel safe being around them for his um, heats." 

"Ah, yeah," Shinsou says. A moment of silence passes between them as Izuku tries to get his thoughts in order. 

"He asked me what philosophy would say about helping him out and . . . I don't know, I just felt the need to," he says, quietly. 

"Because you have a crush on him," Shinsou supplies, nonchalantly. Izuku frowns, not confident in his ability to outright deny that claim. It's not weird or abnormal to have crushes. It doesn't have to be a big deal. 

Though now it is a big deal. 

Because they're bonded. 

"Hey, don't look so bummed out, I'm sure it'll be fine," Shinsou offers. "Unless it turns out he's a child prodigy and he's only fifteen—"

"Not helping," Izuku sighs. 

"I'm kidding! I mean it makes sense," Shinsou shrugs. "Did he uh, ask you to help him with his heat, too?" 

"N-no!" Izuku shrieks, his mind suddenly running wild at the mere suggestion. That wasn't what Katsuki wanted but now that they're bonded it might come up, right? Don't omegas want to be with an alpha during heat? Unless Izuku is just being totally dense and doesn't know nearly as much about heats as he should. 

"Would you if he asked?" 

Izuku swallows, picturing Katsuki in his mind. His broad shoulders and his narrow waist. 

"I don't want to talk about that," He replies sheepishly. 

"Hah," Shinsou chuckles. "So that's a yes. Oh, Izuku." 

"What? Is it really so weird?" 

"I didn't say it was," Shinsou grins. Izuku frowns and fidgets as he tries to figure out how to argue his case a little better. "Hey, don't get all worked up. I'm sure you'll be fine! Now it'll just be even more interesting for me when we go to see him play tomorrow." 

"I forgot about that," He mumbles, even though he really didn't. In fact, he's been kind of excited about it. Never in his life has he been interested in sports, but he is interested in watching Katsuki play sports. 

"Well, aren't you glad I'm here to remind you?" He slides off of Izuku's desk and slaps his hand against his back. "I have work to do, but I'll catch up with you later, okay?" 

Izuku nods, left alone as Shinsou leaves the room. It's probably for the best since he has his own work to do. He's mildly distracted (Okay, very distracted) and it takes him three tries to write one sentence of his own research paper. 

And it doesn't get any better until a little while later when his inbox lights up with a new email. He tabs over and his interest piques at the reply from Katsuki.  

Deku??? 

His heart falls into his stomach when he sees that it's the only thing in the entire response. Yeah, he gets it! He's an idiot! 

But then his phone buzzes with a new text message from an unsaved number. 

Unknown: hey Deku it's Katsuki. 

His stomach leaps right back into his throat as he reads. A phone number! He has his phone number! His thumbs stumble over the keys as he hurries to save it 

Katsuki: and I'm 19. how old r u? 35? 

Thank God. He can tell Shinsou he was wrong later.  

Izuku: haha no!!! you're off by 10 years 

Katsuki: holy shit you're 45???????

Izuku nearly drops his phone. He knows Katsuki is just joking with him— he can practically hear the omega's snarky tone through his texts. 

Izuku: 25!! Do you really think I look 45? 

Katsuki: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

A warm feeling floods his chest as his lips curl into a grin. It's the tiniest little banter but it makes him feel so relieved. Like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Sure, Katsuki's young, but he's not that much younger than Izuku. 

Katsuki: turning my phone off. practice.

Izuku sets his phone down and takes a deep breath. Maybe Shinsou is right. Maybe he does have a crush on Katsuki. 

By the time Izuku reaches the gates of the ice rink the next day, he already has pages and pages of text messages between himself and Katsuki. He feels like a high school girl in a shoujo manga with her first crush. 

It's so stupid, and he's well aware. But Katsuki is just so funny and clever and has interesting things to say! If only Izuku had the confidence to say anything a little more flirtatious. 

"It's so cold in here," he says to Shinsou as he pulls his jacket tighter across his body. They shuffle down the stadium aisles to find their seats. Loud music blares over the speakers and crowds of people buzz with excitement as they fill in. 

"It's an ice rink. Ice is cold, Izuku," he chuckles. Izuku groans. 

"Yeah, I didn't think it would be this cold, though," he mutters. "I should have worn gloves." 

"Maybe you can hit up the gift shop and buy gloves with your omega's number on them." 

"Shush!" Izuku hisses, his cheeks blooming red in embarrassment. They sit down in the seats assigned to them, and Izuku takes a moment to look around and really take it all in. 

There are a lot of people there. It looks like almost the entire stadium is filled and it's amazing. 

"What position does he play?" Shinsou asks. 

"Are there positions in hockey? I don't know," Izuku shrugs. 

"Even I know that," Shinsou laughs. "He's a freshman though, right? Maybe he won't even play." 

"I mean, he told me that he's starting, is that a position?" Izuku asks, totally clueless. Katsuki had mentioned it when Izuku told him he'd be at the game, but Izuku just congratulated him without actually knowing what he was talking about. .

“Dude, I don’t know much but I’m pretty sure that the players who start are the best on the team,” he explains, and Izuku feels a weird sense of pride at that comment. Like a buzzing yeah, that’s my omega! Sort of thing. But it feels so wrong and foreign and fake which doesn’t sit well with him. 

Because even though technically Katsuki is his omega via their bond, he really isn’t. At least, he’s not supposed to be. 

“Unless, of course, he’s there as a way for the school to put their first omega athlete front and center,” Shinsou shrugs. He’s always so ready with the alternatives, whether good or bad. It kind of comes with the territory of being a Philosophy candidate. 

“That would be unethical,” Izuku mutters. 

“Would it be?”

“Well, is it morally correct for an institution to offer someone a position they don’t deserve, in efforts to enhance their public image?” Ah, it comes with the territory, all right. And Izuku is just as much of a sucker for a good debate. 

“That’s a good point. However, what if by giving him this position, they’re setting a precedent for society by showing everyone that omegas are capable athletes. If doing something morally wrong benefits a lot of people, then is it really morally wrong?” 

“Hmm,” Izuku hums, mulling over Shinsou’s point in his head. He startles himself as the announcer’s voice suddenly booms over the speakers and the already loud music somehow grows louder. “Is the show starting?” 

“No, but the game is,” Shinsou smirks. Izuku rolls his eyes as the lights go down, illuminating only the ice. The crowd goes wild as UA’s team enters the rink, speeding around the ice and somehow drumming up even more excitement. Izuku finds himself cheering along, too, even if he doesn’t know what he’s cheering for. 

“There he is!” Izuku says excitedly, gripping Shinsou’s shoulder as he points Katsuki out. He can’t necessarily make out his face from where they’re sitting, but he remembers that his jersey number is 17. Or at least, he makes the connection from the sweatshirts and logo gear he usually wears that sports the same number. 

Izuku waits patiently (or not so patiently) as the game starts. It moves so fast that at first he feels overwhelmed. He can’t keep up with where the hockey puck even is because of the way it just zips around the rink. And they’re all so fast and just slam right into each other. 

It’s intense, to say the least and with all his focus on the game, he still nearly jumps out of his skin as a buzzer rings and the other team’s goal lights up. The crowd roars, and Izuku finds himself standing up and cheering, since they’re apparently scored. 

“That was Number 17 Bakugou Katsuki with UA’s first goal of the game!” 

The announcer’s voice carries throughout the stadium, and Izuku's skin prickles with goosebumps. He's in awe of the way everyone goes wild. 

But the thought still crosses his mind that somehow , despite how good Katsuki clearly is, he still feels so unsafe around his teammates that he had to ask Izuku to form a bond with him. 

Something about that is so unsettling in the way it implies that things are much worse than Katsuki is letting on. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki learned to skate as soon as he learned to walk. It's one of those things that he doesn’t really remember learning, just that he’s always known how to do it. When he was really little, his parents owned the ice rink in their town.  It was a luxury being able to skate whenever he wanted. Not only that, but to be able to watch others skate, too. He would watch the figure skaters glide along so elegantly, so beautiful. He loved them, but in his eyes they were nothing in comparison to the way the hockey players would zip around the ice and the way the sounds of their slapshots would shoot right through his ears and into his very soul. 

Anytime he would set foot on the ice, he’d pretend he was one of them, mimicking the moves and maneuvers he had witnessed. He begged his parents to put him on a team; he wanted it more than anything. 

“But wouldn’t you rather do figure skating?”

“You’re having so much fun playing on your own, though. What do you need a team for?”

To four-year-old Katsuki, his parents’ words didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know that when he wasn’t around, people would make comments to them about their little omega son dressed up in makeshift hockey gear. That they would say it was a sport too dangerous for omegas, and, what were his parents thinking letting him play like that?

He’s not sure what eventually changed their minds. Maybe his mother had enough of his complaining. Maybe she had finally convinced someone to let him join a team. 

Either way, it was the happiest day of Katsuki’s life. 

—

"Oh, Katsuki, we're so proud of you!" His mother sounds like she's nearly in tears over the phone. Apparently she and his father had watched a live stream of the game, and were quick to call Katsuki after his win. 

"I really thought you were about to get that hat trick," his father laughs. Katsuki sighs. He had been so close. But it's okay— he had scored two goals out of the three and led the team in goals to their victory. Three to one.  

"Next time," he grins. 

"You were really on fire though, you seemed really focused out there." 

Katsuki swallows and thinks back to the fact that he knew Izuku was there in the stadium. And it wasn't just because Izuku told him he'd be there. It's because he could smell him. And it sparked something feral in Katsuki. Maybe it was because he's in heat and his senses are heightened. The presence of the alpha who triggered his heat was so biologically satisfying and reassuring. It made him feel like he could do anything. 

"Yeah, I was," he says, balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he arrives at his dorm building and pulls out his key. "Well, I just got back to the dorms. I'm gonna get ready for bed I think." 

It's late, and they understand. He really does miss his parents, but at the same time, he's glad they don't live close enough to visit constantly. The thought of them personally witnessing how stressed out he is and how much shit he has to put up with is almost unbearable. They can’t find out. 

If they were to find out, they'd pull him from the team in a heartbeat.

–

When Katsuki gets back to his room, his phone starts to ring again. 

Incoming Call - Camie

He grimaces at the reminder that he's been avoiding her calls and texts. Not because of anything she's done. But because he hasn't figured out how to tell her what he's done. It would be great to not tell anyone that he's mated, but the reality is that he'll explode if he has to hide something else from the world. The least he could do is tell his best friend. 

"Hello?" He says, after a deep sigh, to prepare himself. 

"I was starting to think you'd like, ghosted me or something," she laughs. "Congrats on the win! I heard you had two goals." 

"Hell yeah," Katsuki confirms. "It was a good game, you should have been there." 

"Yeah, I'm super bummed I missed it," she whines. "Are you back in your room yet?" 

"Just got here, yeah." 

"Sweet! I'm coming up!" 

She hangs up after that, leaving Katsuki staring at the phone in his hand. A slight panic ripples through him as he realizes that he hasn't landed on a way to break the news and she'll be knocking at his door any minute! What should he do? Will she be mad at him or think differently of him? Camie usually never has a problem with telling Katsuki exactly what she thinks, which is both a blessing and a curse. 

He jumps as the banging at the door comes sooner than anticipated. He takes a deep breath and scurries to the door to pull it open and reveal a very dressed-down Camie. Pajama pants and a sweatshirt, hair in a haphazardly twisted bun.

"Shit, were you already in bed?" He smirks, stepping aside so she can enter. 

“No, just waiting up for you!” She invites herself inside and plops down onto the edge of his bed. Katsuki turns back towards her, his neck stinging as he becomes painfully aware of the fact that his new bond mark isn’t fully covered. Can she see it? Has she noticed it yet?

“Were you at the game?” He asks, his question awkwardly casual. 

“Uh, no?” she chuckles. “Do you know how hard it is to get tickets to those games? Even the student section sells out fast.” 

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Izuku seemed to get tickets pretty quickly.” 

He can’t help it. The alpha is already the first person to come to mind. It feels wrong, in a way. As if Katsuki shouldn’t be allowed to think about someone he isn’t even in an actual relationship with. 

“Izuku?” 

“The uh, philosophy TA I told you about?” He clears his throat. He watches, grimacing as his words compute in Camie’s mind. 

“So you’re on a first-name basis with your teacher, huh? That’s cute,” she teases.

“He’s not my teacher,” Katsuki scoffs. Semantics! They could go on all day about semantics and such, but at the end of the day, Katsuki will do everything he can to explain them all away. Izuku is not his teacher. It’s not like that!

Not that there’s anything—Fuck! 

“Yeah, okay, so what about him?” She smirks. Katsuki wrings his hands nervously as he tries to figure out the best way to break the news. All of a sudden, his throat is feeling dry and stiff. Like he couldn’t get the words out even if he tried. 

“He . . . I . . . Bonded,” he croaks. Her lips twitch slightly as she holds onto her smile, though it’s clear that his words are catching her off guard anyway. 

“Excuse me?”

“Nevermind, don’t worry about it,” he coughs, shaking his head and pacing back towards the door. The tiny dorm room doesn’t give him much space to move around or hide. So he’s kind of stuck under her gaze no matter what. 

“Did you say bonded?” she gasps. Katsuki immediately clasps his hand over his neck, effectively telling on himself. “Katsuki! Let me see!” 

“There’s nothing to see, that’s not what I—Forget I said anything, dammit!” 

“Uh-uh, nope,” she insists, getting up and yanking at his arm. He gives up with a defeated groan and drops his arm, wincing at the way Camie gasps when she sees that bright red ring of teeth marks. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shrieks, smacking his shoulder. 

“Ow, what the—Nothing!” He grunts. “I know it’s fucking weird.” 

“Not weird Kats. It’s dangerous! You barely know this guy, what if he ends up being all creepy and stuff and now he has this over you? Katsuki, come on you’re smarter than that,” she lectures. 

“I know, but . . . It was better than the alternative,” he mumbles, earning yet another concerned look from his best friend. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, lowering her voice. Katsuki takes a deep breath. Camie knows all about the shit he’s gotten from the alphas on his team, but not necessarily the extent of their harassment. 

He sits back down on the bed and he follows suit. 

“I started my heat,” he says, quietly. She nods, because it’s a painfully normal thing that she also has to go through. She gets it. “I didn’t want anyone on the team smelling me because I was afraid of what they’d do.” 

“What would they have done, Katsuki?” 

“You can’t tell anyone, okay?” he rasps. It’s a lot harder to talk about than he had anticipated. The words stay stuck in his throat and it takes all of his energy to push them out. 

“Okay.” 

“Earlier this week they were . . .Making comments,” he takes a deep breath. “A-about getting me pregnant so I could be kicked off the team.” 

“So they were threatening to rape you?!” Camie shrieks. Katsuki flinches at the word she uses, having done his best to veer away  from admitting that’s what it was. She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest. “Katsuki, that’s so not okay! You have to tell someone if they’re threatening to rape you . . . They didn’t actually—”

“No!” he says quickly. No one’s touched him, not like that. They hit him and spit on him and threaten sexual violence but haven’t ever acted on it. “And they won’t. I was nervous that if I was in heat they’d do something and then blame it on pheromones or whatever but it doesn’t matter anymore!”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!” 

“Because it worked. I’ve been in heat ever since Izuku bit me and no one’s even noticed,” he grins, expecting her to be excited with him. She doesn’t smile, though, just gives him and even sadder look. “What?”

“You’re worrying me, Kats,” she whispers. “You’re still putting your safety in the hands of a stranger and . . . It’s all a bit crazy, isn’t it? Is it even worth it at the end of the day?” 

“Of course it is,” he scoffs. “Hockey is my life.”

“No, your life is your life. There are always other options, you don’t have to risk your health and safety for a sport,” she explains. Katsuki frowns. He wants to be angry at her, to yell at her to get out of his damn sight, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

“There aren’t any other options,” he insists. “I’m not giving up on my own fuckin’ dreams because of some knot heads. No one will ever take me seriously again if I let them win.” 

“Whatever you say, Katsuki,” she sighs, but doesn’t sound like she actually believes him. Katsuki bites on his lower lip and stares down at the floor. 

“He’s really nice,” he says after a while of sitting in silence. 

“Hmm?”

“Izuku. The alpha who bonded me. He’s a nice guy . . . nicer than any alpha I’ve met before,” he whispers. 

“I believe you . . . just be careful okay?” 

He nods quietly as she reaches over to pull him in for a hug. 

—- 

The next morning, Izuku has to drag himself to his morning lecture. The hockey game kept him up so late,  much later than he had anticipated. It was a whirlwind. The game had ended with both him and Shinsou on their feet and cheering from the team, each of them equally surprised at themselves for being so into the game. 

Maybe they’re hockey fans now. Then again, he’s still not quite sure what was going on at any given moment. But the excitement was palpable nonetheless. It’s possible that their school just has a lot of spirit or maybe their team is particularly good. 

Who knows? 

Either way, he faces class the next morning five minutes late with an extra large coffee in hand. Thankfully, class hasn’t actually started yet, but Uraraka is already set up in her usual spot as soon as he enters the lecture hall. 

“Good Morning,” He says to her, doing his best to seem chipper and awake. 

“Morning Sir,” she replies. It sounds too formal, but he doesn’t bother correcting her. Instead, he piles all his stuff onto his desk and opens up his laptop so he can get set up for his lesson. It takes a bit of scrambling, which is awkward with Uraraka and everyone else that starts filing in watching him. 

The whole thing throws him off—He’s used to having all of his crap together before anyone even gets to class, so it leaves him a bit frazzled. But, he gets it all ready and the clock strikes eight, and he’s ready to get started. 

“Good Morning everyone, go ahead and take out your notes for chapter four,” he says, his eyes darting around the classroom. Huh. That’s strange. 

No Katsuki.

He reaches up, gingerly rubbing at the mark on his neck through the fabric of his turtleneck. Well, he did play hard in that game last night . . . If Izuku is tired, then Katsuki must be exhausted.

He still feels a slight pang of disappointment . . . or maybe it’s worry? It’s not like it’s the first time Katsuki has been late to his class. But for some reason he can’t keep his mind from racing, wondering where Katsuki could possibly be and what he could possibly be doing. 

“L-let’s start with the Ship of Theseus,” he says, still kind of distracted. Uraraka’s hand shoots up. 

“So what’s the answer?” She asks, before he can even call on her. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, blinking. 

“Is it his ship or not?”

“So, there is no answer, per se,” he starts to say. “What do you think? If the ship is repaired with parts replaced one at a time . . . eventually there are no pieces of the original ship left. Is it still Theseus’ ship?” 

“Does he still have the title to it?” someone calls out from the back. Izuku bites back the urge to roll his eyes. 

“It’s 500 BC,” Izuku replies. “And it’s less about ownership and more about identity.” 

“What if I also identify as Theseus’ ship?”

Izuku closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Usually he doesn’t think anything of the random comments that college freshmen like to make. But he’s uncharacteristically cranky this morning. 

“Apply it to yourself, sure. As you grow and change, you become a different person, right? Or do you stay the same no matter how many times you change or in how many different ways? As we change like Theseus’ ship, one day we end up totally different from how we started from birth.” 

Another student is polite enough to raise his hand, but then the side door swings open and suddenly Izuku’s mind is blank again. In a split second, it’s like the entire room is empty and all he can focus on is the omega at the door. 

Katsuki.

He’s not sure what’s more tantalizing—The sight of Katsuki, or his scent. It’s sweet and potent and fills the room in a second. It’s all Izuku can focus on, and it takes every ounce of restraint he has to not run across the room and tackle him to the ground. 

“But, people are more complex than ships, I would think,” Uraraka says, her voice distantly drawing him back to reality. Izuku coughs and tears his gaze away from Katsuki, who seems frozen by the door. 

“Y-yeah,” He mumbles. “Our pieces grow and change in ways that are more complex than parts of a ship.” 

Katsuki moves from the door and slides towards the back row, where he always sits. This is the first time Izuku has seen him since they bonded. They’ve spoken via text, and Izuku watched him play hockey, but this is the closest they’ve been since. 

And holy crap, his scent is so hard to ignore! It’s so strong and seeps into Izuku’s brain like a drug. If Izuku knew more about this sort of thing, he’d say Katsuki’s in heat. Oh. Oh god is he in heat?! 

“Mr. Midoriya?” Uraraka says, catching his attention again. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” he mutters. He takes a deep breath and wipes the back of his hand against his forehead. He’s sweating. Why is he sweating?! “So the Ship of Theseus, open to chapter four.” 

“You already said that!” 

Ahh. Crap! 

“Right, ah, you know what? Class is canceled, I’ll post an extra discussion thread instead,” he chokes, earning several confused looks. Everyone stays seated for a few moments longer, like they’re waiting for a punchline or for Izuku to say that he was just kidding. After a little while longer of uncomfortable silence, everyone starts packing up and heading out. 

Izuku squats behind the podium in the front of the room, shielding himself from view so that he can get his thoughts together. What is he doing?! He can’t just cancel class like that! Aizawa is going to have his damn head for this one! 

He pops back up, ready to backtrack, only to find that the lecture hall is already clearing out. 

Well, except for Katsuki, who’s still seated in the back of the room. 

“Y-you can go too, it’s fine,” Izuku mutters, even though his scent is even stronger now that they’re the only two people in the room. 

“Did I do something?” Katsuki asks. He stays where he is, doesn’t dare to move a muscle. 

“N-n, I’m just tired and off my game and . . . It’s nothing, it’s fine I just have to get used to this I guess.” 

“Used to what?” Katsuki asks. His tone is off. Nowhere near the edge it usually has. 

“Your scent is a lot stronger,” he admits, his cheeks burning. Katsuki slumps back into his seat and surprises Izuku with a whine.  

“I shouldn’t have come in,” he rasps. “Fuck.”

“No, it’s fine—” 

“It’s not,” Katsuki says. Izuku walks around the front table, making a move to walk up the aisle to where Katsuki is sitting. If he wasn’t hyper-aware of the fact that he’s not sure where their boundaries lie, he might have crawled right into the seat with him. But he holds himself back. Even though the scent grows thicker as he draws closer and goes straight to his . . . 

“Crap,” he hisses, immediately sitting down in the seat closest to him and folding his arms in his lap. It’s so embarrassing! He shouldn’t be on the verge of an erection over someone’s scent. “K-katsuki, are you—”

“In heat? Yeah,” he responds, his breathing more labored. He looks up at the omega, really getting a good look at him this time. His flushed cheeks, his dilated pupils. “I was feeling fine, I don’t think anyone else can smell it on me—”

“Hnng,” Izuku whines, crossing his legs tighter. It’s instinct! Just instincts. Of course he’s going to get aroused when his mate  is in heat. It doesn’t have to mean anything deeper than that. “I should probably go, then. Or, maybe you should go first so I can . . . cool off.” 

Katsuki’s eyes immediately and shamelessly drop to Izuku’s crotch, where he’s quite obviously using his hands to cover up a now growing erection. His eyes are glassy as he stares, and Izuku isn’t quite sure what’s happening. But then Katsuki reaches over, like he wants to touch him . 

He pauses, catching himself. Izuku’s entire body is on fire at this point, almost as if he’s in rut, but not quite. It’s different. There’s something different. 

Whatever it is, he moves his hands away, silently inviting Katsuki to touch if that’s really what he wants to do. 

“Ahh,” he shudders as Katsuki palms him through the too-tight fabric of his pants. 

“Fuck,” Katsuki mutters. “ Fuck.” 

He stands up and paces away from Izuku. “What’s . . . what’s wrong.” 

“I feel like . . . If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he says, his voice strained as he admits it. His words go straight to Izuku’s dick once again. His head is a scrambled mess now if it wasn’t already. Katsuki wants him to . . . But he’s never! 

“I’m a virgin,” Izuku blurts out, even though his alpha is yelling at him that it doesn’t matter! His omega wants to be fucked so Izuku has a duty to fulfill! 

“Doesn’t matter. Fuck, if you don’t want to—” 

“I want to,” Izuku says as quickly as possible. They’re not in a relationship, but Izuku would be lying if he said Katsuki isn’t hot as hell. That and his scent. It would be insane to pass up this opportunity. 

“Shit,” Katsuki mumbles, glancing around the room before pulling at the strings of his sweatpants. Izuku scrambles to unbutton his pants and pull out his cock, just in time for Katsuki to turn around and present himself. Izuku gapes at the sight—He’s never seen an omega’s hole in heat before. It’s bright red and glistening with slick, ready for an alpha’s knot. Izuku’s heart races in his chest as Katsuki wastes no time sitting back and sinking down onto Izuku’s cock. 

“Oh my god,” he gasps, holding Katsuki’s hips in disbelief as his tight, wet, heat sucks him in. Is this real, or just some sort of cruel dream? He watches as Katsuki rocks his hips backwards, like he’s done this a hundred times before. 

And then before he’s even used to the sensation, his knot pops like a fucking balloon, holding Katsuki down as his hips stutter and his balls seize up. White floods his vision as he shoots up into Katsuki, emptying himself inside. 

“Crap, fuck.” 

“That was quick,” Katsuki mumbles, which is mortifying. 

“I said —”

“Yeah, got it,” Katsuki clears his throat. Izuku sighs, thankful that Katsuki is at least facing away from him. 

“Do you want me to—Ah, help?” He reaches around, his fingers padding at Katsuki’s cock. Another thing he’s never seen in real life. His tiny omega penis is so cute, about the size of Izuku’s thumb while hard, but he holds himself back from saying so. 

“No, it’s fine, this was . . . that was exactly what I needed,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, we never talked about this, so, if it’s too much and you want to break the bond, that’s fine. After I’m off of heat, we can—”

“No, no, it’s okay, really. We don’t have to do that unless you want to,” Izuku says, his cheeks lighting up all over again. “A-and, I’m fine with this, too. If you want this to be part of our . . . um, agreement.” 

“Sex?” Katsuki says, putting it out in the open. Izuku swallows hard, his hands roaming over Katsuki’s hips. It all happened so fast, that now he can’t even comprehend the fact that his cock is still buried inside an actual person. And not just like, his hand or something. 

“Yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Katsuki finally says, allowing Izuku to relax and breathe again. His knot is already starting to go down, so Katsuki takes the opportunity to stand and re-clothe himself. Izuku just sits there, his mind blank as he watches the omega. “Next time, somewhere more comfortable, though.” 

Izuku nods as Katsuki scoops up his backpack and heads out of the lecture hall. Izuku zips his pants back up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

Izuku: I JUST HAD SEX!!!!!

Shinsou: HELL YEAH

Shinsou: Wait aren’t u in class?

Chapter Text

"So let me get this straight. You canceled your class because you got horny and then you fucked the stranger you're mated to in the middle of the lecture hall?!" 

Well. When Shinsou puts it like that it sounds bad. 

"We were in the back, not the middle," he huffs in response, as if that insinuates that he was being careful at all. Truth is, he didn't even think about what he was doing or that they could have been caught.  

"I never knew you could be so irresponsible," Shinsou says, with a wide grin that contradicts his tone. "Was it good at least?" 

"Huh?!" Izuku sputters, embarrassed by the question. His face grows hot in an instant as he thinks about it. It was over too quickly, leaving Izuku wishing he had cherished the experience a bit more. Now he’s back at his apartment, showered, and thinking about when he’ll get to do it all again. 

It’s kind of embarrassing, in a way. He’d always told himself he was fine with being a virgin—That he didn’t need to be having sex in order to feel fulfilled in life. But now that he’s finally had the experience, he can’t stop thinking about it! 

“The sex. Was it good? Did you enjoy it?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” He mumbles. “I don’t know what came over me. I . . . he was in heat. It was like a drug or something I’ve never smelled anything like it before.” 

“I guess your mate’s heat will do that to you,” Shinsou shrugs. Izuku rolls his eyes and sinks back into the couch.

"He said we could do it again," Izuku adds, dreamily. He still hasn't quite figured Katsuki out yet, but he's more than pleased with this development. 

"So you're going to keep having sex with him?" 

 "Uh, yes?" 

"You're going to start sleeping with your student who's your fake boyfriend who you're actually bonded to?" 

"He's not my student. He's Aizawa’s," Izuku points out. It's a technicality but he'll die on this hill, dammit!

"And what would Aizawa say if he knew?" 

"He doesn't have to know," Izuku grits, sitting up straight again. "Seriously, don't tell him!"

“This may come as a surprise to you, but your sex life isn’t really a topic of discussion when I meet with Aizawa,” Shinsou chuckles sarcastically. Truth be told, Izuku doesn’t know Aizawa well enough to know how he’d react if he found out what this whole thing had morphed into. He can’t imagine he’d be thrilled about it, though. 

“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Izuku sighs, staring down into his lap. “Katsuki is so confusing and . . . I think I know deep down that I’m being reckless for some guy I barely know. But for some reason I feel like I need this.” 

“I mean, I’ve been telling you that you needed to get laid for years,” Shinsou laughs. Izuku frowns. “Sorry! Joking. So you’re having a mid-life crisis, it’s normal.”

“I’m twenty five,” Izuku scoffs. 

“Okay so, quarter-life crisis, whatever,” he corrects, waving his hand through the space between them dismissively. “You’re at that Ship of Theseus stage where you’re figuring out where you really are in life and who you want to be.” 

It hits close, and Izuku isn’t sure if it’s because he’s right, or because they both have that thought experiment on their minds because they’re both covering it in their sections. Either way, it holds some truth, even if Izuku isn’t willing to admit it out loud. 

“I know who I want to be,” Izuku insists. “I’m a philosopher, and I’m going to get my Ph.D. and become a professor.” 

“That’s not what I—Gah, I’ll have to finish this later,” Shinsou groans as he happens to check the time on his phone. “I gotta go to class. You know, to give lectures, not to hook up with anyone.” 

“Whatever,” Izuku mumbles. 

“Hey, don’t look so down. I’m happy you got your rocks off or whatever. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself and not just throwing yourself at the first person who pays attention to you," he says. Izuku doesn't respond. Instead, he just stares down at his lap and waits until Shinsou gathers up his belongings and leaves the apartment altogether. 

He knows Shinsou means well, but his words only remind Izuku of everything he's been trying so desperately to avoid. Maybe it's what he gets for being stubborn. 

-

"What are you going to do with a major like philosophy?" Izuku's aunt had asked one night. He had been visiting home one night while in undergrad. 

His mother's fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. The question hung in the air, suspended by the unspoken tension. 

"I'm going to go into academia. I'll get my doctorate and become a professor," Izuku answered, averting his gaze from meeting his mother's. He already knew her opinion, and he didn't need to hear it again. 

"A lot of philosophy students go on to study law. He also has the option to be a successful attorney if he puts in the work." She added anyway. Izuku frowned. She always did that—Always reminded him that what he wanted wasn't good enough by her standards. 

But Izuku always held fast to his belief that there was value in academia. That he was better for it. He didn't need to fit with society's definition of success as long as he could be fulfilled in his own way. 

"That's not what I want," Izuku muttered, ignoring his mothers annoyed huffs. She never fully accepted the fact that Izuku was intent on choosing his own path in life. He wouldn’t become a lawyer just because his father was one. 

“A professor doesn’t make nearly as much as an attorney would,” his aunt pointed out, as if she was giving him a useful piece of advice. “You shouldn’t write it off completely.”

“That’s what I’m always telling him. Especially as an alpha. You’ll want to have a family one day, and you need to be able to support them.” 

“I can do both.”

And with that, he excused himself from the table. As much as he enjoyed a good debate, they just never seemed to end well when his mother was involved. 

—

Katsuki’s a fucking idiot. He knows this. It’s fucking ridiculous and reckless but . . . fuck.

He didn’t know mating Izuku would be this fulfilling. That his omega would become so quickly enamored by him. That riding his dick for two fucking seconds would be all he needed to be left feeling dazed and satisfied for the rest of the day. 

Well, whatever! He’s not being that reckless. He’s still on birth control at least. 

And the important part of all of this is that he can still play hockey without worrying about being in heat. None of his teammates or coaches could tell  now that his pheromones are reserved solely for his mate. The word still makes him wince in discomfort. It makes whatever this is sound so serious when Katsuki has been working so hard to make sure it’s not. 

Serious, that is. Everything is fine and he has everything under control! He can make this work and still keep Izuku at arms' length. 

Even still, the whole situation has him distracted as he heads to the locker room before practice. As much as he tries to push it away from his mind, it keeps coming back and playing on a loop. It's so frustrating that he barely notices a few of his teammates start to trickle in. 

“He said there would be a discussion thread, but I haven’t seen anything yet,” one says. Katsuki’s ears perk at the conversation, all of his muscles tightening up when he realizes he isn’t alone. But then he relaxes when he realizes it isn’t any of the ones who usually torment him. A few betas who aren’t welcoming in the slightest, but at least don’t go out of their way to make trouble for Katsuki. 

And he’s fine with that; he would much rather everyone ignore him than punch him every chance they get. 

“The guy’s such a fucking weirdo anyway,” another sighs. “He’s not even the professor, right? Can’t you say something to the actual professor about it?” 

“Nah, I’m not complaining about a canceled class,” the first one laughs. 

Are they . . . talking about Izuku? He freezes, hanging his head towards his locker so he can pretend like he’s looking for something while he listens in on their conversation. His ears burn hot as he thinks back to it. Are they in his class? How did he miss that? 

Then again, he’s missed a lot in that class. Half the time he’s late and most of the time he just zones out in the back of the lecture hall. Paying attention to whoever else is in the class with him isn’t exactly a priority. 

But that lends itself to another issue: What if someone saw Katsuki having sex with Izuku? That would be so fucking embarrassing. Not only that, but he can’t imagine the kind of trouble he’d be in. Would Izuku get fired? Would Katsuki get kicked off the team? Would someone tell his mom?!

Fuck. 

“Yeah, I agree. Philosophy is boring as shit,” the other scoffs, confirming Katsuki’s original assumption. “Just trying to pass, you know?” 

“Oh shit, Bakugou’s in that class, ask him.”

Fuck, no! Don’t ask him!

“Hey!” 

Katsuki jumps as one of the beta’s knocks his fist against the locker next to his to get his attention. He quickly clears his throat and turns, trying his best to stay calm and collected. Ha, yeah he canceled class so we could fuck! 

Shit. 

“You haven’t heard anything about the extra assignment, right?” 

Katsuki shakes his head. “Nope, nothing.” 

“See? No one has it, it’s fine. Can’t mark us down for something he never gave us, right?” He laughs,  smacking Katsuki hard between the shoulder blades. 

“Right,” Katsuki mumbles. He’s thankful that he already has his shoulder pads on, and that they conceal the bond mark on his neck. But it doesn’t make the guy’s proximity any less intimidating. 

He watches as the two of them grab their skates and shuffle out just as quickly as they had arrived. Katsuki takes another deep breath, willing away all of the tension he had been holding in. 

Just in time for the locker room doors to swing open again. 

“There you are,” Yoarashi’s voice booms as he enters the aisle Katsuki is in. He looks over his shoulder, hanging on to the possibility that he might be talking to someone else. The loud alpha marches over and wastes no time gripping him by the shoulder pads and shoving him back against the row of lockers. 

Katsuki hisses, the wind nearly knocked from his chest at the sudden impact. 

“What the fuck?!” Katsuki growls, scowling at his assailant. 

“Haven’t had a chance to chat with you about the game yesterday,” Yoarashi replies, grinning. 

“It was a great game! Now let me fucking go,” Katsuki hisses, trying to push at the alpha’s wrist to loosen his grip. Katsuki may be a more skilled hockey player, but Yoarashi definitely has him beat in sheer size and strength. The realization is more than unsettling. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, making us upperclassmen look bad?” he asks. If Katsuki had less of a self-preservation instinct, he’d probably laugh. But he knows better, so he holds his jaw taut. 

“We won, what’s the fucking problem?” 

“What a nasty mouth for an omega,” Shishikura tuts, shaking his head. Katsuki rolls his eyes. They’re just fucking jealous, he tells himself. 

“The problem, is that we don’t want you getting too cocky, now do we? Playing like that is gonna make people think we can’t win without you,” Yoarashi explains, stupidly. “Stay in your damn lane, okay?”

“You shouldn’t be outshining your superiors,” Shishikura says. By superior, Katsuki isn’t sure if he means class or secondary gender. Either way, it’s infuriating. 

“If you were really that much better than me, then it wouldn’t be a problem,” Katsuki can’t help but say. So much for self-preservation. As expected, Yoarashi doesn’t like that. 

So he shoves Katsuki against the lockers again and drives his fist right below his ribcage. Katsuki sputters, trying to breathe as Yoarashi and Shishikura laugh. Katsuki slides to the ground as he’s released, grasping at his stomach as he tries to regain composure. 

The pair walk away cackling and making crude comments as they find their own lockers. His chest fucking hurts, but he quickly grabs the rest of his equipment and exits the locker room as quickly as he possibly can. 

Practice is rough to say the least. 

One might think that winning a game for the team would be a good thing. Like, sure-fire way to get on everyone’s good side. But apparently not. He gets the short end of the stick in every fucking drill. Not even a simple acknowledgement for winning the game for his team. 

After practice is over, he stays seated on the bench, giving everyone else a head start so that he can pack up on his own. 

“Bakugou.” 

He looks up as his coach addresses him. Is this it? Where he’ll let him know that he actually is proud that he’s on the team and winning games. Maybe he just had to wait until the others were away so he didn’t make them jealous. 

“Yes, Coach?” he asks, sitting up straight. 

“I need you to dial it back a bit.” 

“What?” Katsuki asks, crestfallen. 

“All anyone talks about is how we’re the team with the omega,” he explains. Katsuki’s stomach twists. “That’s not what we need to be known for. There are other members of this team who deserve the press attention.” 

“I was . . . Just trying to win,” Katsuki says, quietly. 

“Maybe consider an assist before you try to score. There’s no I in team, kid,” he says, shaking his head. He starts to walk away without even bothering to wait for Katsuki to respond. 

Katsuki’s throat feels tight. 

What the fuck?

He tries to think back to the game, to see if it’s possible he was actually hogging the puck and ignoring his teammates. But . . . he can’t. It’s not. Why would he pass the puck if he sees an opening to score? 

Doesn’t make any fucking sense. 

He rests his elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands. It’s ridiculous, fucking ridiculous. But what can he really do? How can he fix this? Surely if he were to protest or complain, it would only backfire. Everyone is just looking for a way to get rid of him. 

It’s terrifying. 

By the time he collects himself and makes his way back into the locker room, he’s pleased to find that he’s alone. He can change in peace and quiet, which is much-needed after all the fucking nonsense he just had to endure. 

When he pulls his phone out of his bag, his heart squeezes in his chest. 

Izuku - 4 new messages 

Fuck, it’s just a few messages, no big deal. Why is Katsuki getting so flustered? Maybe it’s because he’s still in heat and his stupid omega brain wants the attention of this particular alpha. Just biology or whatever the fuck. 

Izuku: Hey don’t forget about tutoring tonight! 

Izuku: Not that I thought you’d forget! 

Izuku: The usual spot. 

Izuku: Ah, you knew that. Just ignore me :) 

Katsuki grimaces at the texts, forbidding himself from smiling. It doesn’t help  that he can imagine the dumb alpha getting all flustered and tripping over his words. Cute. Or. No, not fucking cute. 

What the fuck?

He takes a deep breath and tries to clear his head. Sure, he’ll just ignore him. He’ll shower and then meet him at the library and they’ll talk about fucking theories that make no sense. No big deal. 

But then he freezes when he remembers how their last in-person encounter went. 

They had been so enamored with each other’s scents due to Katsuki’s heat that they couldn’t focus or keep their hands off each other. The last thing he needs is to get that worked up in the middle of the fucking library. 

Katsuki: Sorry I can’t 

Should he elaborate? If he did, it would just be embarrassing, wouldn’t it? 

Izuku: Oh, is everything okay? 

Izuku: Is it because of earlier? I’m so sorry if I invaded your boundaries or anything! I’ll do better to control myself next time. 

Katsuki nearly laughs at the message. It’s refreshing, in a weird way, to hear Izuku’s concern. Even if he is way off base. 

Katsuki: You can invade my boundaries anytime - 

Katsuki: It’s fine.

Katsuki: I don’t think we should be together in public while I’m in heat. 

Katsuki: Just in case.

His heart thumps in his chest as he reviews the messages he’s already sent. It shouldn’t be this nerve wracking texting him about the whole tutoring thing. Actually, Katsuki has half a mind to ask if Izuku could just, you know . . . forget about the fact that Katsuki’s failing his class. But just thinking about it gives him that sinking feeling. 

Izuku: What if we weren’t in public? 

Katsuki bites down hard on his knuckle as he reads the last message in Izuku’s voice. What if—Well. The thought of it already has heat rising in Katsuki’s groin. Alone with Izuku . . . Fuck. It shouldn’t be a big deal, and he wants to believe that nothing has changed, but that would be a lie. Because everything has changed. 

Katsuki: Someone might be suspicious if they saw you in the dorm 

Izuku: My place? 

Izuku: ONLY IF YOU WANT TO OF COURSE. 

Katsuki chuckles to himself. Amazing how he can get the alpha all flustered even over text messages. He mulls it over for a moment . . . Is it a good idea? It would definitely be safer knowing that if they did get all hot and bothered it wouldn’t be in front of anyone. Hell, maybe it would be better. They could get it out of their systems and then spend the rest of the night actually studying. 

Katsuki: sure

He hopes that his attempts to be calm and collected don’t come across too cold or uncaring. Not that it fucking matters! 

Izuku: Awesome! It’ll have to be a little later though. I have another student to meet with first and then I’ll be home. :)

Another student. 

Hah. 

Katsuki’s fine. He definitely isn’t hit that hard by the subtle reminder that Katsuki isn’t the only student Izuku tutors after class. That’s his fuckin’ job, afterall! Who fucking cares?! Not Katsuki. 

That doesn’t explain the stupid, annoying pit in his stomach, though. 

Whatever! 

He flings his bag over his shoulder and storms out of the locker room. On his way back to his own building, he texts Camie that he’s coming over after he showers. He hasn’t updated her on the situation yet, and if anyone can help him get his head on straight again, it’s her. 

When he arrives at her room, she’s already dressed for bed. 

“Turning in early?” He asks. She groans in response as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Coach has me conditioning at four am,” she scoffs. 

“Ew.” 

“Tell me about it. You’re lucky hockey gets priority for rink time, the rest of us get screwed,” she explains. Katsuki just shrugs, not sure if he really wants to get into a debate about whether or not he’s lucky.  

“Isn’t there another rink on campus?” He asks. 

“Yeah, all the way on the other end. I don’t think it’s even on campus, technically. That’s where the club teams play,” she explains. 

“Oh, right,” Katsuki mutters. The club team is the non-competitive intramural team that, in Katsuki’s mind, is for people who weren’t good enough to make the team that he’s on. Yet everyone seems intent on pushing him onto it because that’s where omegas should play.  

Maybe it’s rude or conceited to think so, but Katsuki would rather die than end up on the fucking club team. He knows in his heart that he’s better than that. 

“So what did you want? Sounded urgent,” she laughs. 

“Yeah, uh . . . I gotta talk to you about shit,” he mumbles uncomfortably. “You know how I got bonded?” 

“Yeah, kinda hard to forget.” 

“Well, we fucked.” 

“You’re kidding, right?” Camie gasps, smacking him across the shoulder. “Katsuki!” 

“What?! Is that bad?” He asks, as if he genuinely doesn’t know. Because he doesn’t. Is it bad? 

“I don’t know!” she scoffs. “But it kinda sounds like you’re getting pretty serious pretty quick with this guy.” 

“It’s not serious, we’re not even dating,” he explains, as if that makes everything better. 

“You’re mated.”

“But we’re not together.”

“You do realize you sound crazy, right? Despite all your efforts to not date this guy, you’re literally in a relationship with him,” she says. “You like him.” 

“I can have sex with someone without having feelings for them,” he explains. “I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.” 

“And how many of your past flings have you been mated to?” she asks, bringing up an infuriatingly excellent point. He opens his mouth to blurt out a counter argument, but nothing comes up. “Exactly!” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he sighs. “I probably have a crush on him or something, but I don’t want to have a crush on him. I also don’t want to go back to Yoarashi and them being able to smell whenever my scent changes.” 

“So then . . . get to know him, make him your real boyfriend or whatever. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?” She asks, nonchalant. The question makes his stomach sink though, and all he can think about is how Izuku is probably finishing up tutoring some other omega who’s cuter and smaller than he is—

Fucking stupid heat hormones.

“He was clearly into you enough to have sex with you once. I’m sure it’ll be easy.” 

“It’s not, though,” Katsuki mopes. “I think he’s one of those people who’s  just . . . nice. You know? I doubt he’s taking any of this too seriously. He’s older than us and getting a Ph.D. for crying out loud.” 

“Yeah, well, no one’s that nice,” Camie shrugs.  “So, how was it, then?” 

“Um,” Katsuki mumbles. “It was quick.” 

“Quick?” 

“He said he’d never had sex before,” Katsuki explains, his ears burning hot. 

“This only solidifies my point, Kats,” she giggles. “But no pressure or anything, okay? I only met the guy for two seconds, I’m sure you know him better than I do.” 

“Right,” Katsuki sighs. “And I’m probably just all out of sorts from being in heat.” 

“Yeah. I know I always get super weepy on mine,” she sympathizes. “Don’t make any more rash decisions until it’s over, then. Also try to actually rest. Heat or no heat, you’re gonna wear yourself too thin one of these days.” 

“I’ll try,” he sighs. 

“Are you off to bed now? Hmm?” 

“No I’m . . . Actually about to go to Izuku’s apartment,” he mumbles, his voice dropping several decibels as he realizes how guilty he sounds of everything she’s been saying. 

“And you’re not getting serious. Right. Makes sense,” she says, sarcastically. “You’re on the pill, right?” 

“Yes, oh my god,” he groans, embarrassed. “Not about to let a stupid baby ruin my hockey career.” 

“Hah, that sounds more like the Katsuki I know and love,” she snickers, reaching up to ruffle his hair. He pulls back, annoyed. “Don’t let a stupid alpha distract you, either.” 

“Duh, I’m going over there to study,” he scoffs. 

“Sure you are.” 

“I am —”

“Good night, Kats,” she grins, ushering him towards the door. She reminds him that she has to be up early in the morning, and well, he has somewhere to be, too. 

The idea of seeing Izuku again in closer quarters is a little daunting. Not because of him but because he’s not sure what to expect from the situation. He considers texting to cancel, but thinks better of it. Because failing philosophy also isn't an option. 

So there's only one thing left to do: Head to Izuku's apartment and find out what's in store. 

Chapter Text

Izuku sits at the very edge of the couch, analyzing the way he has his books spread out on the coffee table before him. It's too messy and disorganized. But he also doesn't want to seem like he's trying too hard and there doesn't seem to be any sort of happy medium. 

"What are you doing?" Shinsou asks. He emerges from his bedroom and crosses through the living room to get to the kitchen. Izuku looks up and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. Is he purposely rolling out at this moment so that Izuku can see his messy post-sex hair and the hickeys blooming across his chest? 

Izuku is well aware of the fact that Shinsou had Kaminari over, but he didn’t need to see the physical evidence of what they’ve been getting up to.

"Panicking."

"Well you're good at that," Shinsou smirks. Izuku shoots him a glare to remind him that this time he's serious. "What?" 

"Katsuki will be here any minute, I don't want him to think I'm coming onto him or that I have any ulterior motives" 

"Wait, why not?"

Izuku groans. “Because I don’t. I have to tutor him because he’s failing. And I only offered for him to come over because he’s still in heat and doesn’t want to meet up in public—It’s complicated, okay?!” 

“Okay, sure, but I think we both know that regardless of your intentions, you’re gonna end up fucking him,” Shinsou shrugs. Izuku opens his mouth to protest, but Shinsou beats him to it. “And don’t even try to deny it. Because here’s the good news: I’m sure he knows it, too. He wouldn’t have agreed to come over if he didn’t want it to happen again.” 

Izuku furrows his brow, unsure if he can even let himself be comforted by Shinsou’s words. He’s right, but all Izuku can do is panic and look for ways to prove Shinsou wrong. 

“I just feel like I’m doing something wrong here,” Izuku admits. “I say that I want to help him, but at this point it feels like it’s just an excuse for me to be selfish.” 

“Probably because it is. But it’s okay to be selfish sometimes,” Shinsou offers, which is a little more comforting. Izuku presses his lips together, still deep in his own thoughts, but he doesn’t say anything else. 

The door to Shinsou’s bedroom creaks open and Kaminari sneaks out to join Shinsou in the kitchen. Izuku tries not to stare at the beta’s long legs that sprout from the bottom of an oversized t-shirt that probably belongs to Shinsou. They aren’t dating, supposedly. Just enjoying each other's company, as Shinsou puts it.  But they still make it look so easy. 

Kaminari has no problem with padding over to Shinsou and wrapping his arms around the alpha’s waist. And Shinsou seems happy to ruffle his fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead. 

Probably because Kaminari isn’t a freshman in his section!

Ugh. 

“Are you okay?” Kaminari asks, as if he’s only just noticing that Izuku seems distressed. 

“He’s got a date.” 

“No I don’t —” 

“Shinsou, don’t be mean!” Kaminari pouts, giving him a playful shove. Shinsou just laughs and brushes him off. 

“It’s not a—” 

Izuku’s heart leaps into his throat as a knock sounds at the front door. Shinsou and Kaminari grin wildly, excited to spectate as Izuku greets his visitor. He wants to tell them to go away and leave him alone, but he’s too preoccupied with the fact that Katsuki is at the door.  

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he nearly trips over his own feet on his way to the door. 

He takes a deep breath, and plasters on his best smile before pulling the door open. Sure enough, Katsuki is standing there, waiting to enter. He looks different, and it takes Izuku a few moments to realize that it’s because he isn’t wearing any of his hockey stuff. Just a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. 

He looks so good.

“Hi,” Izuku says, breathlessly. “Come in!” 

He stands aside to let Katsuki in, noting the fact that Katsuki is totally empty handed as he shuts the door. 

“Did you bring your stuff?” 

“Fuck, I forgot,” Katsuki scoffs, sounding genuinely annoyed with himself. That is the only reason he came over, so it seems silly. Until Izuku realizes that maybe it’s not the only thing he’s come over for. Oh fuck. Fuck.

“Th-that’s okay, I have everything set up in the living room,” he chatters on, leading the way. He glares at the two still standing in the kitchen. “A-and this is Shinsou and Kaminari, but they were actually just leaving so we don’t need to talk to them.” 

“Aww,” Kaminari coos. 

“That’s okay, we’ll catch up later,” Shinsou smiles, thankfully going along with Izuku’s request. He watches, relieved, as they head back down the hall to Shinsou’s room. 

“Roommates?” Katsuki asks. 

“Shinsou’s my roommate. Kaminari’s his . . . uh, friend?” Izuku puzzles, unsure of the right word to use. Fuck buddy seems impolite. 

“Right,” Katsuki smirks. Izuku’s chest flutters, and he immediately busies himself with sitting down on the couch to open up to the right page of his textbook. 

“So we’re on Chapter—” 

“Wait,” Katsuki says, clearing his throat. Izuku looks up at him, noticing the way he glances around and the way he nervously licks at his lips. Is Katsuki nervous? Why? 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you . . . not smell me?” he asks, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink. Izuku blinks and breathes in deeply, gathering hints of cedar and spearmint. He definitely smells him, alright. 

“I do,” Izuku says, trying to think. He still smells him. If he’s focused enough, he can tell that his scent is more potent than usual, that his pheromones are a little heavier. But he isn’t overcome with the feral urge to procreate like he was the day before. 

“But you don’t need to, um, you know,” Katsuki swallows. 

“Not like I did earlier. Not that I have anything uh, against it,” he clears his throat. “B-but I think I’ll be just fine to get through this session so we can focus.” 

“Right.” 

Something is a little off about Katsuki’s tone, but Izuku doesn’t think to call it out. Maybe he’s just uncomfortable because this is the first time they’ve seen each other since they’ve had sex. Or maybe it’s because he is still in heat. Izuku really has no idea what that means for an omega or how he might be feeling. 

“You can sit,” Izuku offers, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Katsuki nods and takes the seat, his eyes lowered to the coffee table as Izuku opens the book. The omega’s face is bright red at this point. Is it rude to ask about it? Crap. 

Well, he’ll err on the side of caution. He won’t say anything.

“I think we were still talking about the Ship of Theseus,” Izuku sighs, flipping through his notes. 

“Mmhmm,” Katsuki chokes. Izuku glances over at him again, slightly confused. It’s not like Katsuki to be so flustered over what appears to be nothing. If things were different, Izuku might have reached over to gently card his fingers through the omega’s hair or rub his back. 

But he doesn’t dare touch him. They aren’t a couple, and Katsuki isn’t here for sex, so Izuku needs to just get that out of his stupid alpha brain. 

“So, what was the overall theme that the ship was trying to demonstrate?” Izuku asks. 

“I don’t know,” Katsuki mumbles, without giving it any thought. 

“Did you read the chapter?” 

“No.” 

Well. 

“Katsuki, come on, you have to do the readings. I know we’re trying to catch you up, but I won’t be able to if you don’t do the assignments,” Izuku sighs. He’s in full TA mode now, lecturing his mate on his poor study skills. 

“I didn’t have fucking time,” Katsuki snaps, and Izuku immediately feels bad even though he knows he shouldn’t. He knows Katsuki has a lot going on, but it would be unethical to let him get away with things that other students wouldn’t get away with. 

“Did I do something?” Izuku blinks. 

“Fuck this,” Katsuki scoffs. He gets up from the couch and stomps off towards the door. 

“Wait, where are you going? We didn’t even get started really—” 

“Whatever, I’ll take a damn loss on this one,” Katsuki sneers as he slips his shoes back on. There’s nothing Izuku can do to stop him from storming out of the apartment and slamming the door behind him. 

“What the heck?” Izuku whispers to himself. He replays their conversation in his head, looking for any missteps Izuku might have taken. Is it because he got onto him about not doing the reading? Maybe. 

He turns around as Shinsou’s door slides open again. Both Shinsou and Kaminari slip out, like they had been listening in the entire time. 

“Is he gone already?” Shinsou asks, sounding almost as confused as Izuku feels. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what I did wrong,” Izuku admits. 

“What were you talking about?” Kaminari asks. “Walk us through it.” 

“Ah,” Izuku sighs, wracking his brain. “We sat down and . . . he asked if I could still smell his pheromones. And I can, but they didn’t make me all feral like they did earlier. Then I asked him about the Ship of Theseus and he stormed out.” 

“Well, there you go,” Kaminari shrugs. 

“The Ship of Theseus isn’t that bad—”

“No, not that,” Kaminari scoffs. “Is he in heat? He’s probably upset that you rejected him.” 

“What?! I didn’t reject him,” Izuku scoffs. “He didn’t say he wanted anything like that.” 

“He shouldn’t have to,” Kaminari shrugs. “Whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s probably upset that you didn’t pin him down and knot him.” 

Izuku frowns. Why does this all have to be so complicated? Hell, Izuku thought Katsuki might be relieved that he would be able to control himself. “I don’t get it.” 

“Omegas are complicated,” Kaminari shrugs. 

“How do you know?” Shinsou scoffs, referring to his status as a beta. Kaminari laughs. 

“Because I’m minoring in Omega Studies,” he says, matter-of-factly. “In general. They’re much more sensitive when it comes to instincts, which is why there are so many who are still against things like omegas playing contact sports and such, for example.” 

“Well . . . What do I do now?” Izuku asks. “Should I call him and tell him to come back so we can . . . “ 

“No no,right now you need to give him space,” Kaminari warns. “Unless you want him to bite your dick off.” 

—

Katsuki’s heart is racing as he stalks back to campus. His skin is still white-hot and he wants to cry and scream and punch something all at the same time. 

How could he be so fucking stupid?! 

He shouldn’t be upset. He doesn’t want to be upset. 

But he is. His entire world feels like it’s shattering around him and it’s all because Izuku didn’t immediately want to fuck him when he showed up. It’s shallow and immature to be mad at something like that. Realistically, he knows Izuku was just doing his job and trying to help Katsuki to not fail. 

He felt like he was going to die sitting next to the alpha like that. Maybe Izuku could just turn his instincts on and off like that but not Katsuki. No, Katsuki was practically drowning in the alpha’s scent, and it was reducing him to a damn puddle. He was only seconds away from bursting into tears and begging for the alpha’s knot. 

But he wasn’t about to let that happen, which is why he left as quickly as he could. The fresh air helps a little, to dissolve the scent that clings to his nose. Thankfully, his head is cleared enough by the time he passes by a group of alphas sitting outside one of the neighboring dorm buildings. 

He’s lucid enough to notice and casts his eyes downward, walking faster as he passes them. He almost makes it to his building when he hears his name. 

“Hey Bakugou!”

A chill runs down his spine at the sound of Yoarashi’s voice. Fuck. Fuck. It’s a blessing that the alphas don’t live in the same building as him, but simply being on the same campus is almost too much. 

He pretends not to hear and hurries up the steps to his building and clumsily fumbles for his key card. 

“I’m fucking talking to you!” 

He slides the card and the door unlocks. As soon as he opens it, though, a strong hand reaches over his shoulder to slam it shut again. Angry, he spins around and glares at Yoarashi. 

“Leave. Me. Alone,” he grits, hoping he’s not as flushed and hot as he was before. 

“If your teammates are saying hi to you, maybe you should be respectful and acknowledge them,” he teases. Katsuki’s nostrils flare as he glances over at the group making their way over. Mostly other alphas from the hockey team, and a couple others he doesn’t recognize. “We’re just being nice , you bitch.” 

Katsuki presses his lips together, holding himself back even though all he wants to do is punch Yoarashi right in his stupid face. 

But that’s exactly what they want, isn’t it? For Katsuki to lose his damn mind and lash out so they could try and prove that Katsuki shouldn’t be on their team? Fuck that. He decided a long time ago that the best way to prove people wrong about omegas would be to keep showing up no matter how many times people shot him down. 

It’s worked so far, but Katsuki isn’t sure how much more he can realistically take. 

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours, huh? We never see him anymore, it’s almost like you just made him up,” he goads. 

“No, I didn’t,” Katsuki lies. “I just came from his place, actually.” 

He doesn’t have to prove anything to them, he knows this. But he can’t help the word vomit from spilling out. 

“Yeah, sure,” another one from the group says, earning a chuckle from the rest. 

“A-and he’s not my boyfriend, actually he’s my mate,” he blurts without thinking. 

“Hah, that fucking twerp? You have low standards even for yourself.” 

“He’s a better alpha than you are,” Katsuki sneers. 

Before Inasa has a chance to say anything, a faculty member happens to walk by. 

“Excuse me, I believe this is an omega dorm,” she says, firmly addressing the horde of alphas loitering around on the steps. “You need to leave, or I’ll have to call campus security.” 

“Jeez, we were just talking,” Yoarashi complains. But he backs off and the rest of his crew slowly retreat back to their own building. Katsuki stays frozen in place, as if he needs to watch to make sure they’re actually leaving. 

“Are you okay, hon? Were they bothering you?” she asks in a sweet voice. A tone sweet enough to make Katsuki feel sick. 

“I’m fucking fine, I don’t need your help. I was handling it,” Katsuki rasps, his fingers shaking as he swipes his card again. He slips inside before the faculty lady can continue with her questioning. 

The thing he hates most of all, even more so than the alphas picking on him, is being patronized. When people use that voice , that cutesy, stupid tone, it makes Katsuki’s blood boil. Even if Katsuki was thankful for her intervention, he couldn’t possibly listen to her talk to him like that. 

He’s an omega, yes. He was being intimidated and harassed by a bunch of alphas, yes. But he’s not some fragile thing that needs other people to fight his battles for him. No matter what he does, it seems as though proving that point will always be a fucking struggle. 

By the time he gets up to his room, his heart is still racing, but he doesn’t feel himself seething with rage anymore. It’s kind of refreshing to be in a room by himself. No other scents, no one else talking. He kicks off his shoes and flops down onto his bed. He lays down on his back and pulls his pillow over his face, pressing on it firmly as he screams. 

Why does every single day have to be so fucking exhausting?! 

He removes the pillow and tucks it back under his head while he scowls at the ceiling. Stupid Izuku. If the alpha would have just knotted him, Katsuki would have been in a better mood to stay longer to study, and then he probably wouldn’t have had to run into those assholes again. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Letting out a deep sigh, he takes it out to check. 

Izuku: I’m really sorry if I said the wrong thing earlier, I was just trying to make you comfortable by not being too forward.

Izuku: I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I didn’t mean to!

Fuck feelings! 

Katsuki: My feelings aren’t hurt. 

It’s a lie, but fuck! He doesn’t want Izuku thinking he has to worry about him either. He doesn’t need Izuku anway, he’s just there for convenience. They aren’t real mates.

He silences his phone and tosses it aside, making the decision to ignore anyone else who tries to talk to him for the rest of the evening. 

After doing that, though, there’s still the issue he was having earlier. That issue being that he was already slick and throbbing and ready to be knotted. He doesn’t need Izuku because he’s been handling heats by himself just fine. 

He gets out of bed and squats down so he can pull a box out from underneath. It’s labeled ‘Heat Kit’ and contains more artificial ways to satisfy his needs. He opens the box and pulls out his go-to knot toy. There are other varying sizes, but this one always seems to be the one he favors. 

As he stares at it in his hands, though, he almost wants to cry. In fact, his eyes well with tears even though he doesn’t want them to. What a fucking mess.

When he looks at the toy, all he can think of is Izuku’s actual knot, which is bigger and warmer and better than this stupid toy. He slams it back into the box and pulls out a bigger size. It’s still not the same, but it’s a little better.

He kicks off his pants and lays back down, this time spreading his legs and dragging the toy in between his cheeks. The lifeless silicone is disappointing, and his omega brain yells at him that it isn’t real, that it doesn’t count. 

But Katsuki does his best to push those thoughts away and shoves the knot in all at once. As he starts to slide it in and out, he closes his eyes and tries to recreate what it felt like to be on Izuku’s knot earlier. His other hand grips his cocklet tight, massaging while he continues to fuck himself with the toy. 

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he comes, his hole pulsing and fluttering around the artificial knot. The orgasm makes him feel a little better, but as soon as his head clears, he’s back to feeling sad again. 

He has an alpha, technically. Maybe if he had been thinking straight at the time, he could have just asked Izuku if he wanted to have sex. That would have left him satisfied for longer. 

Hell, he could just text Izuku and ask him. 

He could. 

But he won’t. 

So his only other option is to stay shut in his room until this wave passes. 

Chapter Text

"How have you been?" 

Izuku thinks about it for a moment. He can't really tell his mother about Katsuki. Even though, from a moral perspective, he probably should tell her he's mated. 

Not that it matters. He never sees her anyway. And not that it clears Izuku of any ethical infractions, but she is a beta. She might not notice something like that if he could hide it well. 

If she were an alpha or an omega, it would be a different story. 

"I've been good, I guess," he breathes. "Just busy with school and all that." 

"Of course, of course. Grades are good?" 

"My grades are fine," he laughs. He's always had good grades, ever since he was a little kid. "It's grading other people's work that's the problem." 

"Hmm, well, that is the path you chose."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Izuku scoffs, even though he knows exactly what she means. While he's mildly offended, they've been through this same conversation too many times for him to not just brush it off. 

"Oh, nothing honey," she says, her voice passive agressive. 

He knows what she's thinking. That he would have made a great lawyer, that he's wasting his potential as an alpha. 

It's always the same lecture. 

"I like the path I chose," Izuku says, though for a moment he's not sure who he is trying to convince. Agh! Why would he even doubt it for a second? This is what talking to his mother does to him; it makes his brain all crazy. 

"Oh, I'm sure you do. And I'm sure your future mate will love it, too," She mumbles. Izuku bites back the urge to turn the tables on her and say 'Hah! Jokes on you, I'm already mated!'

But he's able to hold back. 

That's not a can of worms he could ever open up with her. 

"Can we talk about something else? How are things at home?" he frowns, pulling his eyebrows downward. 

"Fine," she sighs. "Same old, same old, you know?"

"I guess, yeah." he breathes a sigh of relief, thinking he's finally free from the judgmental questions for the time being. 

"No boyfriends or girlfriends to tell me about yet?" 

Izuku wants to scream. 

"No, I would have told you if I did!" 

"Oh, Izuku," she sighs. Izuku groans. And before he can think it through, he blurts out the first thing he can think of to get her off his back. 

"I've been on a few dates, okay? I didn't want to tell you because I don't want to jinx it," he hisses. And then his stomach twists. As satisfying as it is to hear his mother's gasp of excitement, he can't help but feel bad for lying to her. Lying for the sake of his own self-preservation is not something his favorite scholars would consider moral.

“Oh?” 

“A-and that’s all I’m gonna say!” he insists. She’s not even walking next to him, but he can still feel his face heat up and his body tense defensively. He can practically feel her judging eyes boring into him. 

But instead, she just laughs and a wave of relief washes over him. 

“Okay, okay, but I will be eagerly waiting,” she says. Amazing how such a simple lie can change her entire mood. The pit in his stomach urges him to apologize and tell her that he’s sorry and that he isn’t actually dating anyone. 

He holds his tongue, though. 

“Alright, mom, well, I have to go, I just got to class,” he says, halting his pace and looking up at the old building that houses the philosophy department. After saying their goodbyes, Izuku hangs up the phone and checks his messages again. 

Still nothing from Katsuki. 

He hasn’t heard from him in a few days, since the night he came over to study, and it’s starting to worry him. Did his ignorance really screw things up that badly? Crap.

With a deep sigh, he pockets his phone and heads inside. When he sees Katsuki in class, it’ll put his mind at ease, hopefully. 

-

“Katsuki, you’re only gonna make this worse,” Camie sighs, shaking her head as she skates to the wall and leans against it. Katsuki makes sure his laces are tight before he gets up and climbs over to join her on the ice. 

“Don’t care,” he scoffs. 

He shouldn’t be skipping class. But his stupid omega brain won’t let him get over stupid Izuku. More likely than not, seeing him in class would just drive him crazy. No way is he gonna let that nerd get the best of him like that. 

“Race me,” he says. 

“No way!” she scoffs, but Katsuki takes off across the ice anyway. He pushes himself as fast as he can go, the cold wind stinging his eyes as he goes. Without all his gear on, he’s lighter on his feet than usual, and he feels like he’s flying. It’s the best kind of therapy. 

“You’re losing!” he shouts at Camie as he zooms past her. 

“I’m not racing you, idiot!” she shouts. He can hear the lilt of playfulness in her voice, though. He takes one more lap around, then plows into a stop right before he gets to the wall, sending ice shavings fluttering in Camie’s direction. “Oh my god, stop!” 

She laughs and pushes away, gliding gracefully. 

“Come on, you’re no fun,” Katsuki teases. 

“I’m not gonna tire myself out, I have a late practice tonight,” she scoffs. “Huge competition next weekend and I’m not about to break an ankle.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs. 

“And on top of that, my parents are going to be here bright and early tomorrow morning,” she complains. “They’re super into this whole parents weekend thing.” 

Oh yeah. 

“I forgot that was this weekend,” Katsuki mumbles. 

“Yours aren’t coming, right?” 

“Yeah, mom said there’s a junior tournament at the rink this weekend, and they’re slammed,” he sighs. It’s probably for the best, though. It would be nice to see his parents, but he doesn’t need them to know what a fucking disaster his life at school is. 

If they were to visit, he would need an extensive plan to keep them away from the entire hockey team and stock up on a shit ton of scent patches so they don’t notice his bond with Izuku. Just thinking about it almost sends him into a tailspin. Thank fuck they live far enough away that he doesn’t have to worry about it. 

“Lucky you,” she smiles. “It’ll give ya plenty of time to talk to your alpha boy.”

“Shut up, don’t call him that,” he scoffs, his cheeks flaring up with heat. “Not talking to him until he apologizes.” 

“For what? I’m still not quite sure I understand what you’re mad at him for,” she explains. He groans and leans against the wall. It’s frustrating because he doesn’t understand it, either. Izuku is his TA, someone who graciously stepped in to help him out and to pretend to be his mate. The guy doesn’t owe him a damn thing. 

But it doesn’t stop Katsuki’s heart from squeezing or his throat from closing up everytime he thinks about it. His heat is wearing off; he should be fine now. Instead, all he can think about is the fact that Izuku wasn’t interested in having sex with him. 

“Because! It was fuckin’ . . . I don’t know? Embarrassing?” he says, exasperated. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “He went feral the first time he smelled my heat and it was . . . I don’t know, I wanted it to happen again.” 

“Aww, you like him,” Camie coos. Katsuki scowls, scoops up a handful of ice shavings, and throws it in her direction. “Am I wrong?!” 

“Yeah, it’s not that deep, it’s instincts and shit. Like how heats make you wanna breed, but you don’t actually want to get pregnant,” he tries to explain. That makes sense, doesn’t it? “It’s because the alpha I’m mated to rejected me. That’s all.” 

“Did he reject you, though? It doesn’t sound like he did. It sounds like you went in thinking you’d get laid and got mad when you didn’t,” she shrugs. Katsuki groans in frustration. “I’m just trying to help you out.” 

“How is that helping me?” 

“Well, I figure just agreeing with everything you say doesn’t do anything productive,” she shrugs, skating over to him and leaning against the top of the wall with him. “I care about you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And if you start really catching feelings for this guy, I don’t want to see you get hurt. So it’s better to be honest with yourself now before it gets out of control,” she explains. 

He stares at the ground as he processes her words. She has a point. Does he have feelings for Izuku? 

“I don’t know,” Katsuki mumbles. “I haven’t figured it out yet.” 

“It’s okay if you like him, Kats,” Camie says, her voice soft and reassuring. 

“I know,” he whispers, even though he’s not sure if he really believes it himself. Would it be okay? Or would it be catastrophic? It really could go either way, and with the set up they have now, he has a lot to lose. 

And it’s his own damn fault. 

– 

After his ice time with Camie, Katsuki decides to head back to his dorm to relax until his actual hockey practice starts. If he’s gonna skip class, he might as well at least get some rest. The walk back is nice enough, the air is crisp and it gives him a chance to think. 

His phone vibrates, reminding him that he hasn’t checked his messages. As soon as he glances at it, his heart squeezes in his chest. 

Izuku - 4 New Messages 

After being on the ice and his talk with Camie, he doesn’t quite have the same stubborn drive to ignore him as he did before. That, and the guilt from skipping class is starting to seep in. So he steps to the edge of the sidewalk so he can stop to read. 

Izuku - Good Morning :) 

Izuku - I didn’t see you in class today - I missed you! 

Izuku - Is everything okay? 

Izuku - Seriously, I'm not sure what’s wrong, but please just let me know you’re okay. 

As Katsuki stares at the messages, hot, angry tears start to well in his eyes. He’s not angry at Izuku, though. If anything, he’s angry with himself for acting so stupid. Izuku probably thinks he’s being ridiculous and immature. And he’d be right, because he is being ridiculous and immature. 

Katsuki - I’m fine.

He wants to punch himself. But he can’t bring himself to be vulnerable just yet. 

If he does that, then he might have to admit that Camie was right. 

Katsuki moves to start walking again, but before he can even step onto the sidewalk, Izuku is responding. 

Izuku - Oh Good!!!!

Izuku - Can we talk? 

Fuck. 

Katsuki groans and shoves the phone back into his pocket. What does he want to talk about? Does he want to break their bond? Is he already done with Katsuki’s shit? Probably. 

He hunches over and trudges back to his dorm. His thoughts run like crazy through his head. The more he tries to push his worries away, the more they seem to swarm him. Fucking hell! 

When he gets back to the building, he slides his key card as hard as he can and rips the door open before storming inside. Stupid Izuku. Stupid instincts. Ugh. 

His heart races and his fingers shake as he finally gets to his door. But then everything comes to a screeching halt when he grips the doorknob and realizes that the door is unlocked. What the fuck?

He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest. Did he lock it earlier? He’s sure he did. He always locks his damn door. What if someone broke in? What if—

His heart leaps into his throat as someone pulls the door from inside. In an instant, he lets go and backs up defensively.  

“What the fuck?!” He shouts, raising his fists, ready to fight. As the door falls open all the way, the person that poses in the doorway is far worse than any intruder or assailant. 

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” 

“Hah—What are you doing here?” he gasps. His eyes are wide, all thoughts instantly driven from his brain. She lurches forward and wraps him in a tight, squeezing hug as he desperately tries to process the situation. She’s not supposed to be here! She had the tournament and—

Oh fuck. 

“I thought I'd surprise my baby for parents’ weekend. And boy do you look surprised, ya twerp,” she teases, pulling back and ruffling his hair. Her smile is wide and bright, clearly happy to see him. And Katsuki can’t even find words to say to her, because he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before she notices. 

“Oh,” he chokes. 

“What’s the matter? Did I really scare you that much—Hold on,” she says, pausing abruptly and pulling him back in. She presses her nose into his hair and he immediately feels like crying. Pulling back again, she reaches for the hood of his sweatshirt, and Katsuki immediately backs away. 

Which only incriminates him further. 

"Your scent," she says, her nostrils flaring. He can't read her expression, but judging by the way she grabs him by the ear and drags him back into his room, he's in deep shit. 

"I'm in heat, you don't have to be so fucking embarrassing," He says defensively. 

"Watch your damn mouth! And you smell like an alpha! Why do you smell like an alpha?" She asks, diving right in. 

He can feel the heat blooming in his cheeks, mortified by the questions. What does he say? He puts his hood up over his head and pulls the drawstrings as tight as they'll go, covering his face. 

"Don't do that, Katsuki," she warns. He lets out a childish whine—sSomething he always seems to revert back to when he’s around his mom. Maybe he spends too much time trying to be bigger than himself, so much so that he can’t help but crumble in her presence. 

She’s safe.

“I can’t tell you,” he rasps. 

“Did something happen? I swear to God, Katsuki I will burn this fucking school to the ground if anyone has so much as laid a finger on you,” she hisses, and all it does is makes the damn waterworks start bubbling in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks. Fuck. And that’s exactly why he can’t  tell her how bad hockey is. 

“No!” he shouts. “It’s not like that!” 

“So then, you’ve mated with an alpha on purpose?” she asks. His grip on his hoodie strings tightens until his knuckles go white. 

“How did you know?” 

“I’m your mother, Katsuki,” she says. Her voice is softer, calmer. He lets go of his strings and she’s right there, pushing the hood away with her perfectly manicured fingers. Katsuki sniffles, staring at her wide-eyed. “Let me see.” 

He pauses. She doesn’t seem that mad. 

Without saying anything, he leans his neck to the side and pulls at the collar of his sweatshirt, baring his mark to her. Her expression doesn’t change as she leans in to analyze it. 

“Okay,” she says, calmly. “It’s a nice, clean mark.” 

“Does it matter?” he scoffs. She steps back and flicks him in the ear. 

“ Yes, it matters. It shows that the alpha was being careful and gentle, and that’s the kind of thing a mother likes to see. Now what is this alpha’s name? What’s so great about him that you decided to mate him without telling your mother first?” 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. 

He could tell her that he did it out of an abundance of caution. That he wanted to feel as safe on campus as he does at home, and that this was an alpha he sensed he could trust. Given her over protective nature, she probably would have been okay with that. 

But there’s something about the wide-eyed, beaming look she gives him that steers him in the opposite direction. 

“I just fell in love so hard and fast for him and I was afraid you would scold me for moving too quickly,” he blurts out. “His name is Izuku and he’s an alpha in grad school—” 

“So he’s older than you?” 

Ah, fuck. 

“Only six years,” he says.  

“Good,” she says, seeming more pleased with the age difference than anything. 

“He’s getting his Ph.D. in Philosophy,” he says. Should he have lied and said something else that makes more money? 

“Ah, so he’s smart,” she grins. “So you found yourself a more mature, more educated alpha, in just a couple of months. I have to say, Katsuki, I’m disappointed you felt you had to keep this for me, but I can’t help but be so happy for you,” she says. She pulls him into another squeezing hug and kisses the side of his head. “I need to meet him.” 

“What?” he mutters. “Nah, he’s busy.” 

“Too busy to meet the mother of his omega? Absolutely not,” she scoffs. “Call him. I know I surprised you, but if he’s a good alpha like I think he is, he’ll understand. Call him.” 

“Right now?” Katsuki chokes. 

“Yes, why not? Let’s get something set up. We can do brunch tomorrow,” she smiles, inviting herself to sit down in his desk chair. His phone suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds in his pocket. 

“O-of course,” he says, his throat dry as he takes out his phone. 

His fingers shake as he gets to Izuku’s contact. Maybe he could back out now, tell her it was all a sham. 

“Oh, I just told your father. He’s going to be so jealous that I get to meet him first!” 

He clicks on the contact and puts the phone to his ear. It rings once, twice, and then three times before Izuku finally answers. 

“Hello? Katsuki?” he answers, sounding almost relieved. If only he had let it go to voicemail! 

“Hey, babe,” Katsuki says, putting on his best smile for his mother. 

“What?” he sounds rightfully confused by Katsuki’s greeting. “Look, if you’re still mad, I think I would prefer to have this conversation in person, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings— ”

“So, guess what! My mother decided to surprise me for parents’ weekend! Isn’t that so exciting?” he asks, adding even more false exuberance to his voice. 

“ Oh does that mean she — Isn’t she an alpha? Oh, did she find out?” 

“Yeah, and she’s so excited to meet you,” Katsuki adds. Is his voice too loud? Will she think he’s faking the whole thing? “Can you do brunch tomorrow?” 

“Y-you . . . what? You want me to meet your mom?” 

“Silly, you’re my mate, of course I want you to meet my mom!” 

“Katsuki, you sound weird, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Mhmm! I’m just really excited, babe.” 

“Well . . . I guess that’s okay. We really need to talk, Katsuki. I know you want my help, and I want to help you. But I can’t keep up with everything.” Katsuki lips tremble as he suddenly has to try even harder to fake his smile. 

Your alpha is so disappointed in you!

Fuck. 

“Great! I’ll talk to you later, then. Super excited,” Katsuki says. He glances over at his mother, who is still looking on as if she’s spectating a romance movie. “I love you! Bye!” 

And then he hangs up before he can even catch a hint of Izuku’s reaction. 

Not because it’s embarrassing. 

But because he’s afraid he’ll lose it if Izuku sounds even the least bit disgusted.

Chapter Text

Thankfully, Katsuki telling his mom he has practice and then needs to see Izuku is enough to get her off his back for a little bit. She just laughs about how he's such a little social butterfly and then says she has to check in to her hotel anyway and get some rest. 

Once the shock of her arrival starts to wear off, he can admit that he is happy to see her. But at the same time, the panic is setting in because he lied to her and she's expecting him and Izuku to be some happy, sappy couple. It's one thing to have his hockey team thinking he has an alpha. It's a whole other thing telling his mom he has an alpha. 

This one will require a lot more finesse and uh, acting. 

He pushes it away for a while during hockey practice. But he remains cautious, keeping his head down and his mouth shut so he doesn't end up with any bruises he needs to explain. While Izuku may have thought his bruises were from hockey just being rough, his mother knows better. She'd know right away if something was out of place. 

“Next week we’re facing off against Ketsubutsu University on their ice. This isn’t just any game, this team has been our rival for fifty years,” Coach says, addressing the entire team after practice. Katsuki leans back against his locker, his eyes cast downward to his feet. 

“We won’t go easy on them,” Shishikura assures him, slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand. Katsuki’s still distracted, his brain just running through the script he’s put together for what he’s going to say to Izuku when he sees him. 

Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense—

My mom really does mean well—

Don’t hate me—

“Our upperclassmen know the pain of this rivalry, and I know they’ll be pumped and ready to destroy them. So there’s a slight change to the starting lineup,” he says, and Katsuki’s still only halfway paying attention. “ Shishikura . . . Yoarashi . . . Mora . . . Sato . . . Shoji . . . Tsubaraba.” 

Wait. 

“You took me off?!” Katsuki blurts out, alarmed by the lack of his own name in the mix. He’s been starting the entire year; leading the fucking team in goals. What the hell? 

“Upperclassmen only, pay attention, idiot,” Tsubaraba scoffs. Katsuki bites down hard, thankfully still wearing his mouthguard. He knows that if he didn’t have anything to bite on, he’d definitely be fucking screaming. 

“So? I thought you wanted to win?” Katsuki asks. The only reason he has any gall to call out is because he knows the others won’t do shit with all their coaches watching. That, and he’s too worked up to care. 

“That kind of attitude is not what we need right now. This isn’t the Bakugou Katsuki show, it’s a team,” Coach lectures. Katsuki’s face heats up and he can feel all eyes on him. He knows just as well as anyone else that this has nothing to do with him being a freshman and everything to do with them being tired of being the team with an omega player. 

Fucking assholes. 

Angry, he grabs his water bottle and chugs. The action is a weak attempt to block out the snickers and whispers from his teammates, most clearly tickled by the idea of Katsuki being benched. 

Maybe he’s being dramatic. It’s not the same as being benched. Hell, some of these guys don’t even get half as much ice time as he does. But it’s infuriating all the same. Katsuki gets his time because he’s good at what he does and he wins games. 

Coach continues on and Katsuki pulls his phone from his duffle bag to distract himself. 

Izuku - I just left the library. I’ll meet you so we can walk. 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. 

One thing at a time. 

As soon as the team is done meeting, Katsuki makes a beeline for the door. He doesn’t have any energy to talk to anyone after that fucking embarrassment. And he has shit to do! An image to preserve! 

In the blink of an eye, Katsuki’s metaphoric plate has become impossibly full. 

As soon as he’s out of the building, he finds Izuku waiting for him on a bench. The alpha looks tired, probably from working all day or whatever. Katsuki stressing him out probably doesn’t help, either. 

“Hey,” Katsuki breathes, catching up with him. He’s dressed in a black sweater layered over a collared shirt. Normally, Katsuki would say it was a stupid ass look. But Izuku . . . Izuku pulls it off. 

“That’s a big bag,” he mumbles, making conversation as he stands. Katsuki adjusts the strap over his shoulder and swings it back. 

“I’m hiding a body.” 

“Well, that’s problematic.” 

Katsuki swallows, his stomach still uneasy through the conversation. The jokes lighten the mood a bit, but it still feels hollow. There’s this aching sense of doom swirling in Katsuki’s chest and all he wants to do is break down and beg the alpha to hold him tight. 

He can’t, though. 

“My dorm is closer, if it’s okay with you,” Katsuki clears his throat. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed,” Izuku points out. Ah, fuck, he’s right. Katsuki’s just so on edge he can’t fucking think straight. 

“Shit, yeah. Can you wait while I drop this off?” he asks. Izuku nods in agreement, and they walk mostly in silence until they get to Katsuki’s dorm. He uses the time on his own to catch his fucking breath and calm down. He changes into something else, and then runs back downstairs so he doesn’t keep Izuku waiting too long. 

He’s still there, hands in pockets and waiting just like he said he would. 

“Disposed of the body?” 

“What?” Katsuki blinks. 

“The body —”

“Yeah, shit, right,” Katsuki laughs nervously. Stupid! 

“How was practice?” Izuku asks. 

“Don’t wanna fucking talk about it,” he mutters. Then, he notices the way Izuku immediately gets quieter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just . . . Coach took me off the starting lineup.” 

There. He said it. He’s trying. 

“What, why?!” Izuku responds, as if he knows what that means at all. As far as Katsuki knows, Izuku isn’t much of a sports fanatic. Unless . . . fuck, Katsuki really doesn’t know that much about him, does he? 

“They say it’s because they want the upperclassmen to start, but I know the real reason,” he mumbles. 

“What’s the . . . oh,” Izuku says, figuring it out himself. He’s so smart. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” 

“No, they’ll be sorry when they get their asses handed to them without me,” Katsuki grumbles. 

“I bet,” Izuku chuckles. “Does your mom know?” 

The question catches him off guard, but reminds him why they met up in the first place —Because she’s here.

“No, and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to her,” Katsuki swallows over the lump in his throat. They turn a corner and start to approach Izuku’s building. Izuku nods, but doesn’t say anything as he uses his key to get into the building. Katsuki follows him up to the apartment, now vaguely familiar since Katsuki’s been here before. 

“We can talk in my room,” Izuku mumbles. Katsuki’s chest buzzes, and he’s not quite sure why. But he is curious to know what Izuku’s room looks like. 

It isn’t much. Probably just what someone would expect from a graduate student living with a roommate. A queen-sized bed without a frame, a desk, drawers, a mirrored closet. It’s plain, but it’s neat and Katsuki likes that. 

“I’ll be honest, Katsuki,” Izuku says, his voice low. His tone is concerning, but Katsuki keeps his mouth shut. “I don’t understand you. I’m trying to, and I want to, but I don’t. I can’t read your mind, and I know I probably don’t have any right to say this, but if I’m going to be helping you out, I need you to communicate with me.” 

Katsuki stares at him for a moment, eyes searching the alpha’s face as he tries to process what Izuku is saying. And the fact that Izuku seems like he’s been rehearsing this, too. Katsuki should fucking laugh, but he doesn’t.

“That’s fair,” Katsuki says. “I just . . . I know I can’t blame my heat for everything, but it just threw me off guard and I couldn’t tell the difference between what I wanted and what I thought I wanted.” 

“Okay,” Izuku says, evenly, his chest heaving as he takes a deep breath. “I didn’t really know the best way to handle it, either.” 

The alpha holds out his hand towards Katsuki, and he stares at it, unsure of what to do. 

“Let’s make an agreement now, okay?” Izuku asks. His voice is calm and reassuring, and for some reason that’s terrifying. Because Katsuki can feel himself trusting the other man. 

“Okay,” Katsuki says, taking his hand to shake. His hands are warm and strong. Stronger than one would think just looking at him. 

“An agreement that as long as we’re bonded, we’ll talk to each other and trust each other. I know this isn’t a traditional relationship, per se, but we’re both still affected by the bond. And I really think good communication will help. Like the other day when you were upset with me, I didn’t know why because you didn’t tell me.”

“I know, I know,” He says. “Just breathe a minute, will ya?” 

“Yeah,” he grins, his hand squeezing Katsuki’s gently. That little squeeze goes straight to Katsuki’s heart. “I still don’t know why you were upset.” 

Ah, shit. 

Katsuki can feel his ears burn as they start to turn red. 

“I did tell you; it was my heat,” he mumbles, staring down at his feet. 

“Okay,” Izuku breathes. “That’s it?” 

“It’s . . . It’s fucking embarrassing, okay?” Katsuki scoffs. He tries to pull his hand away, but Izuku squeezes tighter. Katsuki is obviously strong enough to pull away, but he doesn’t. He listens to Izuku’s nonverbal demand that he stay put. 

“I wouldn’t judge you, Katsuki,” he promises. Katsuki nods and takes a deep breath. 

“It . . . You weren’t affected by my scent,” Katsuki mumbles. “You didn’t want to . . . fuck, I can’t say it.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I felt like I was being rejected.” 

“Oh,” Izuku says. “I figured it was something like that . . . I just . . . I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You were over here for school purposes, and I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” 

Katsuki considers it for a moment. It makes sense once he thinks about it. How Izuku is always trying to do the right thing. No matter how much Katsuki tries to deny it, Izuku is technically his teacher. He just hates the way it fucking sounds. 

“I wouldn’t let you take advantage of me,” Katsuki says. 

“Even if you’re in heat? 

“Heat doesn’t fucking change it,” Katsuki insists. He looks up again, daring to check on Izuku’s expression. 

“Yeah?” Izuku asks, quietly. “I was worried that was the only reason we . . . you know. Because of instincts.” 

“I’d still let you fuck me regardless of heat,” Katsuki scoffs, not paying attention to how damning his words sound. Izuku’s eyes go wide, wide, wide at that. “This might be a fake relationship, but it doesn’t mean we can’t hook up. Sex can be casual.” 

“U-uhm, okay, so you see,” Izuku stammers, clearly very flustered and taken aback. He doesn’t seem upset, though, and that’s a fucking relief. “If that’s what you want, you just have to tell me because I’m not always perceptive to that kind of thing.” 

The nerd’s face is bright red as he speaks, and it’s kind of adorable. Not only that, but it gives Katsuki a newfound sense of confidence. 

Katsuki glances over Izuku’s shoulder at the neatly made bed behind him and smirks. With that, he lets go of Izuku’s hand and invites himself to sit on Izuku’s bed. Izuku spins around and gives him an incredulous look. 

“Katsuki —” 

“Let’s have sex. Right now,” he says, looking him right in the eye. He said to just tell him, didn’t he? Well. 

“Right now?” he chirps. 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“Haha, yeah I guess there’s nothing —Wait. I still have so many questions if I’m meeting your mom tomorrow, I —”

“Shh, we can talk after,” Katsuki grins. He removes his sweatshirt and his t-shirt at the same time, then tosses it to the floor and leans back on his hands. Izuku’s eyes rake over his chest, and it occurs to him that they haven’t really seen each other naked. That time in the lecture hall had been rushed with pants only pushed down just enough. 

“You’re very . . . toned,” Izuku says, swallowing. 

“Well?” 

“Ah, sorry I’m nervous,” he laughs. Flustered, he pulls his sweater off over his head and throws it aside, revealing freckled shoulders and a soft stomach. His hands go straight to the button of his corduroy pants, drawing Katsuki’s attention to the dark trail of pubic hair that peeks out. 

“Go on,” Katsuki encourages, watching as Izuku’s shaking fingers unbutton his own pants and push them down to his ankles along with his underwear. The alpha’s cock is already fully erect, the thick shaft sprouting from a mess of green. “Nice.” 

“You think so?” 

Katsuki opens his mouth to speak, then immediately closes it. It’s kind of ridiculous to be suddenly second guessing the compliments he’s giving when they’re both clearly undressing in order to have sex. 

“Sure,” Katsuki clears his throat, not wanting to be too generous. He might give Izuku the wrong idea and make him think that this means more than it actually does. Sure he’s attractive! Whatever! Katsuki can admit that without having a crush on him or wanting to be in a relationship, right? 

Katsuki kicks off his own sweatpants and bends himself over the bed, ready to just throw himself into the act so they don’t have to keep talking about it. 

“Are you —”

“Come on,” Katsuki grunts, jutting his ass out a little further. 

“O-okay,” Izuku murmurs and takes the two steps forward to close the distance between himself and Katsuki. 

Katsuki shudders as Izuku’s hands find his hips and caress them so gently, yet with such strength. He leans into his forearms, his hole already so achingly wet as he anticipates Izuku’s cock. 

But instead of a cockhead, he gets the hot swipe of Izuku’s tongue. 

Katsuki sputters, gripping the bedspread tight. Hands squeeze at his ass cheeks and spread them apart so Izuku can get in at a better angle. His tongue circles around that tight ring of muscle until finally it pushes inside. 

“ Ah, fuck,” Katsuki chokes. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku gasps. 

“Yeah, that just . . . It feels good,” he replies, pressing his face into the mattress. Thankfully Izuku doesn’t keep asking questions, he just goes right back to what he was doing, somehow with even more fervor. His tongue is quick and skilled, especially for someone who supposedly has never done this before. 

“Sorry, I just can’t wait anymore,” Izuku breathes, coming up for air and repositioning his hands. Before Katsuki can process what’s going on, the head of the alpha’s cock pushes against his hold, not wasting any more time before pushing in and fully seating himself inside. 

“Aa-ah,” Katsuki rasps, his arms shaking as he adjusts to Izuku’s girth. 

“Feels . . . So good,” Izuku gasps, fingers digging into Katsuki’s hips as he starts to move. 

“ Fuck.”

Katsuki’s own cock aches, begging to be touched. And as if he can sense that, Izuku reaches around and grips Katsuki’s small member in his hand. Katsuki tries to focus as Izuku’s thrusts start to falter a bit, his hand motions a little more erratic. 

With a final grunt, Izuku’s knot catches and ties them together, expanding to its full potential. Katsuki gasps and slips against the bedspread while Izuku continues to pump his cocklet, milking it expertly.  

“A-ah, fuck,” he curses, clenching his teeth as his hips snap and groin spasms. 

And then he collapses against the mattress. 

“Did you cum?” Izuku asks, his hand still trapped underneath Katsuki’s body. 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, but . . . nothing came out.” 

Oh my god.

“What the fuck?" Katsuki chokes. "What the hell do they teach you knot heads in sex ed?!"

"Uh." 

Thank fuck they aren't facing each other right now. Izuku's a good lay but holy shit he can be awkward. 

"I'm an omega!" He reminds him. 

"But you have a penis," Izuku points out, exasperated. The poor guy sounds hopelessly confused. 

"It's not about that, it's about the reproductive organs—How are you gonna knot me and then ask me why nothing came out of my dick?!"  

Katsuki wants to scream. 

"Sorry! Sorry, that wasn't very sexy of me, was it?"

"Not at all," Katsuki scoffs. He grimaces as Izuku slips out, then backs away leaving him empty. Katsuki sits up and turns back to look at him, eyebrows knitted together. Izuku backs away and grabs a tissue from his nightstand to wipe the mess from his dick. 

"I lasted a little longer that time," Izuku says, grinning like he's proud of himself. 

What a fucking dork. 

Cute.

——

Izuku has more or less resigned himself to his fate. Keeping up with the rollercoaster of emotions that is Bakugou Katsuki is a small price to pay for the time he gets to spend with him. Because sure, he's a bit dramatic. But he's also funny, smart and hot.

Izuku's mind is abuzz as he lays in bed, waiting for Katsuki to finish up in the shower. He had such an amazing body, Izuku had to hold himself back from squeezing and grabbing and touching him more. It's really getting harder and harder to tell where their boundaries lie between each other. 

He sits up as the bathroom door opens and Katsuki emerges wearing just a t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair is wet and flattened back against his head, and Izuku can't help but stare. 

"So fair warning, my mom is a piece of work," Katsuki sighs, cutting straight to the point. 

"Oh, and what does that mean?" Izuku asks, crossing his legs as Katsuki joins him on the bed. 

"She's an alpha," Katsuki says, which is almost enough of an explanation. "She visited out of nowhere and was able to tell right away that I had bonded with an alpha. But she's excited to meet you and thinks you sound like a good alpha." 

"She does?" He asks, unsure why it makes him so happy to hear. 

"Yeah, so I think as long as this brunch goes well, she's gonna be fine with it," Katsuki assures him. "However, we gotta really play it up for her." 

Izuku mulls it over, trying to imagine the relationship Katsuki must have with his mom. "Will she be mad if she finds out the truth?"

Katsuki sighs and stares into his lap. 

"No, it's not that. It's a long story," he explains. "She's always been my biggest supporter through everything and . . . I don't want her to worry about me."

"And she doesn’t know about your teammates either?" 

"Definitely not that. She was so nervous about letting me go to a school outside my hometown. I want to show her that I can take care of myself and she doesn't have to worry about me all the time." 

Izuku gives him a sad smile. "It sounds like you really care about your mom."

"Of course I do! I wouldn't be where I am if it weren’t for her. She's always been the one to make sure I was able to play hockey as a kid. People gave her shit for it, but she defended me to the end," Katsuki explains. "I don't want her to keep fighting my battles for me." 

"Katsuki—"

"Don't do that," Katsuki warns, brushing him off. "I'm fine. The point is that I've got it all under control and she was so excited when she found out about our bond. I couldn't bring myself to disappoint her." 

"That makes sense," Izuku says, though he can't entirely relate. "I wish I could be that close with my own mom." 

"Are you not?"

"Nah, she thinks I'm making terrible life choices and always reminds me of that," Izuku shrugs, trying to laugh it off. "She'd rather me be a lawyer or something." 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay! I've accepted it," Izuku sighs. "We don't have to talk about that, though. Tell me more about how to talk to your mom." 

"Well, for starters, you gotta act like you're totally in love with me," Katsuki suggests. For a moment, Izuku's heart skips a beat. He freezes, caught off guard by the suggestion. 

I love you! Bye! 

When Katsuki had said that on the phone earlier, Izuku had nearly passed out. It's clearly all an act, but even hearing those words leave Katsuki's voice does something to him. 

"H-how should I do that?" 

"I don't know. Hold my hand and shit. Call me cutesy nicknames." 

"You'd like that?" 

"Fuck no. But my mom eats that shit up," he grins. 

"Gotcha," Izuku says, knitting his eyebrows as he thinks. "Hey, what about Kacchan?" 

"Hah?!" 

"For a cute nickname. I'll call you Kacchan," Izuku laughs. Katsuki frowns, then softens a bit. 

"Fine." 

"Is that why you weren't in class today?" 

"Ah, no. That's because I skipped," Katsuki grins. Izuku gapes at him and throws his pillow in the omega's direction. 

"You can't skip my class, Kacchan!" Izuku teases. 

"What, you're calling me that already?" Katsuki laughs, punching the pillow away from his face. 

"Just practicing," Izuku shrugs. 

Katsuki stares at him for a moment, his expression morphing into something strange and unreadable. 

"What is it?" Izuku asks, noticing the way that Katsuki's ears tinge pink.  

"Can you . . . Scent me?" he asks, without looking up. Izuku is surprised by the request, but it does make sense once he thinks about it. They're mated, and Katsuki is feeling a lot of anxiety about making sure this meeting with his mom goes well. It would only make sense for him to need a bit of scenting to feel at ease. 

"Of course." He holds out his arms and Katsuki falls against him, closing his eyes as Izuku releases a bit of his scent. The tension in the air around the two of them seems to dissipate in an instant. It's calm and nice.

And Izuku finds himself wishing, just for a moment, it could be real.

Chapter Text

 Izuku's night with Katsuki ends at some point and he isn't aware of it until he wakes up the next morning. It's disorienting to say the least. Not only because of the blurred timeline, but because of the weight on his chest. 

He gasps, his eyes snapping open to see that the weight is none other than Katsuki curled up and using his chest as a pillow. Izuku can hardly breathe, flustered by the sleeping omega. He shouldn't be flustered, really. They've had sex twice now, so cuddling in bed together shouldn't be too alarming. 

But there's something that's just so gentle and intimate about being able to feel every breath that Katsuki takes. To feel the body heat that radiates from his skin. Holding him so close really amplifies their bond, and he can easily sense how calm and peacefully Katsuki is sleeping. 

In those quiet moments, it dawns on Izuku how sharply this contrasts with Katsuki’s usual energy— tense, guarded, stressed. The omega always has so much going on, so much that he's trying to juggle all on his own . . . Does he ever sleep like this? Is it too presumptuous to think that their bond is giving him this calm? 

Izuku should get up, and should remind Katsuki that he never went back to his room last night. But for some reason (let's say it's the bond), Izuku can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he wraps his arms around his omega and pretends to still be asleep. 

***

"Shit!"  

Izuku startles awake, blinking until he can focus on Katsuki frantically rolling out of bed and snatching his hoodie from the floor. Apparently Izuku isn't the only one whom time slipped away from. 

"What's wrong?" Izuku mumbles, sitting up. 

"We're gonna be fucking late!" he rasps. "I still have to go back to my dorm and change! And you need to get dressed." 

"Ahh!" Izuku gasps, his brain quickly catching up with the situation. That's right; they have to go meet his mom at some restaurant for brunch. It's all happening too fast! What the heck even is brunch?!

"Come on," Katsuki urges. Izuku gets up and makes a beeline for the bathroom so he can wash his face. 

"What should I wear?" Izuku asks. 

"Something nice! I don't know," he scoffs, and Izuku can hear the sound of his closet door opening, then of plastic hangers scraping against metal. When Izuku emerges from the bathroom, he finds that Katsuki has laid out an outfit for him already: a green button-down shirt and a pair of black dress pants. 

“Really?” He asks. It’s probably the most formal thing he owns. 

“Yes, really.” 

Izuku doesn’t really see the point in arguing, anyway. Fashion has never been his strong suit, so he has no choice but to trust Katsuki’s judgment. For some reason, Izuku waits until Katsuki takes his turn in the bathroom to start undressing. With so many blurred lines between the two of them, it’s odd to feel awkward changing in front of someone who’s already seen him naked. Maybe, again, there’s just something more intimate and domestic about it. 

“How do I look?” Izku asks, when Katsuki enters the room again.  Katsuki pauses to give him the once-over, then reaches out to brush back a stray hair. Izuku freezes, again, petrified by the gentle touches. For a moment, he swears he can sense Katsuki doing the same thing.

“Fine,” Katsuki finally says, his voice low and reserved. “We should go.” 

“Right,” Izuku agrees. He clears his throat and grabs his wallet and keys from his night stand. “We’ll stop by your dorm and then catch the bus to the restaurant, right?” 

“That’s the plan.” 

As they venture over to Katsuki's dorm on foot, Katsuki goes on and on as if he's reviewing the plays on one of his hockey games. Izuku can tell he's anxious and it somehow alleviates his own anxiety. Almost like he's able to set aside his feelings for the moment in order to support his omega. 

It gives him the confidence he needs to move forward, and he actually feels pretty good about the whole thing. He stands outside of Katsuki's dorm building, waiting for him to change since he isn't allowed inside. Awkward and unsure of what to do with himself, he pulls out his phone to find an unread message from Shinsou.

Shinsou: Did he spend the night or something???

Shinsou: Dang Izuku ;)

Izuku groans and types back something jumbled, defensive and in all caps.

"Mr. Midoriya?" 

Izuku jumps and looks up to see who's addressing him. An undergrad student in one of his sections . . . ah the name is escaping him! He's just passing by with a friend of his or something. Izuku doesn't think anything of it.

"Hello!" Izuku chokes, trying to appear friendly. 

"Who's that?" the other guy asks. 

"Philosophy TA," he grins, then turns back to Izuku. "Your class is super confusing, man." 

"O-oh." 

"But I like it? I don't know, it's really interesting somehow," he shrugs, which is a relief. 

"Oh good, I'm glad you're enjoying it!" he beams, soaking up the compliment. He perks up again as the door to the building opens up and Katsuki hurries out the door. "Well, I gotta go now, have a good weekend!" 

He turns back to Katsuki just as he stops dead in his tracks. 

"Bakugou?" 

Izuku blinks as the student addresses him and Katsuki's scent goes sour with tension. The guy looks back and forth between the two of them before giving a terrifyingly  casual grin. 

"You guys have a good weekend, too," he says, then nods to his friend. They head off, and Katsuki seems to wait until they're completely out of earshot before he takes another breath. 

"Why were you talking to him?" Katsuki hisses, quickly stomping off in the direction of the bus stop. Izuku takes a moment to process, then has to jog to catch up to the now fuming omega. 

"He's a student in one of my sections, I think. He was just saying how much he liked the class!" Izuku says. "Do you know him?" 

"Of course I fucking know him, we're in the same section," Katsuki scoffs. Izuku's stomach is already churning before he adds, "And he's on the damn hockey team." 

"Oh." 

"Don't fucking worry about it, one thing at a time, okay?" Izuku isn't sure who he's trying to convince, though. 

"Right, yeah." 

"A-At least he isn't the biggest asshole on the team. He might just forget he saw us together." 

"Ahh, crap, I wasn't even thinking about that! What if someone else sees us? Katsuki!" Izuku asks, his anxiety flooding back in full force. 

"It's fucking fine!" Katsuki scoffs. "The restaurant is way off campus and . . . just don't sit next to me on the bus if you're that embarrassed!" 

"I'm not embarrassed! I just don't want to get in trouble! I also don't want to find out what Aizawa will say if it somehow gets back to him that everyone thinks I'm dating a student!" Izuku rambles on, uncertainty building with every word that leaves his tongue. All this time, he’s been too busy convincing him of technicalities and all that, he never stopped to actually consider what people might think if they found out. 

Katsuki spins around and gives him a sharp glare. “It’s going to be fine. Stop freaking out, you’re starting to stink.” 

Izuku purses his lips and frowns. 

“Do you think I’d get fired? We’re both consenting adults, and technically it’s not even a real relationship, so I can’t get in too much trouble, right? But then again, it's a power dynamic thing, isn’t it? Ah, crap, should I start looking for other jobs—” 

“Shut up! Jesus, you make it sound like you want to get fired,” Katsuki scoffs, clapping his hand over Izuku’s mouth to get him to stop spiraling. Izuku freezes. “Let’s get through today and then you can make your doomsday plan.” 

“You know, you could at least act like you care about what happens to me,” Izuku mutters, just as Katsuki starts to walk away. Maybe he should have been quiet to avoid an argument, but he can’t help it. They just talked about crap last night, and Izuku isn’t about to have things blowing up between them again. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t care. But freaking out about it isn’t going to help,” Katsuki says, his voice a little less harsh. “Tsubaraba didn’t technically see anything. For all he knows, we could be on our way to the damn library.” 

“R-right,” Izuku mumbles, though his stomach is still in knots. “Still, this is a big deal. I have to get this degree or else . . . “

“Or else what?” Katsuki finishes for him as they arrive at the bus station. They only have to wait a few more minutes before the bus they need arrives. 

“Or else . . . I don’t know.” He gets this sinking feeling, realizing he hasn’t thought too much about what he’d actually be doing after getting his Ph.D. Teaching, of course. Probably still under Aizawa’s direction. Probably still not making much money. 

But it’s honest work and he has a very high respect for academia. Deciding he’s better than what academia has to offer him would be selfish, wouldn’t it? 

Not that it matters! He doesn’t want a different path anyway! 

“It’ll be fine,” Katsuki says, gently. And for a moment, Izuku swears he can feel Katsuki’s hand brush purposefully against his before slipping into his pocket. Was he trying to hold his hand? No way. Izuku’s imagining things. 

The bus ride is longer than Izuku had been anticipating, and quieter than Izuku had hoped for. Katsuki doesn’t say a word the entire time, aside from random tips for impressing his mother as he remembers them. 

When the bus finally gets to their stop, Izuku is ready to faint. He’s really about to do this. Really about to meet Katsuki’s mother and lie to her face about their relationship. 

"Hold my hand," Katsuki grits, grabbing him as they exit the bus and start walking. Izuku is startled by it at first; they aren't even at the restaurant yet!

But then he looks up to see a blonde woman furiously waving at them just a little ways away. 

"Is that—"

"Yep," Katsuki rasps. 

Izuku squeezes his hand tight and takes a deep breath. As they approach, Izuku goes through a hundred different scenarios in his head of how this initial introduction might go. 

However, none of them are what actually happens. Once they're close enough, Mrs. Bakugou lunges forward and tackles Izuku in a tight, squeezing hug. 

"Oh! You must be Izuku! You're so damn cute!" She yells, her grip vice-like on his shoulders. 

" Mom !" Katsuki protests, clearly embarrassed. 

"Thank you! It's so nice to meet you finally!" Izuku says, refocusing himself and pulling out his best manners. She steps back and grins, giving Izuku a chance to actually get a look at her. The resemblance between the two of them is striking. 

"Yeah, yeah," she grins. "Let's get inside before they give our table away." 

Izuku nods and takes Katsuki's hand again as they follow her inside to a booth that she's already reserved. Izuku and Katsuki slide together across the table from his mother.

"So, Izuku , tell me about yourself," Mrs. Bakugou insists, cutting right to the chase once they're settled in. 

"Ah, well, let's see," he mumbles. "I'm a Ph.D. student currently."

"Yeah, that's what Katsuki was telling me. How did you end up mating with an undergrad student then, huh?" Ah, there it is. The interrogation. 

Izuku takes a deep breath, knowing that his answer is important. He could just walk away and declare that he doesn't want to answer the question. Aside from the promises he's made to Katsuki, though, Izuku really does have this strange desire for this woman to like him. 

"Well, I certainly didn't plan it!" he laughs. "Kacchan decided to meet with me for tutoring sessions for his philosophy course and I fell for him, I guess." 

"You guess?" 

"Er, no, I did."

"Mom, you're gonna make him nervous," Katsuki scoffs. 

"Well he should be nervous!" 

"It's okay!" Izuku interjects. "It's only natural to be nervous, isn't it? You're a very important person in Kacchan's life, so that means you're important to me too!" 

Mrs. Bakugou gives him a mildly amused look, and for a moment Izuku is worried she might laugh in his face or call him out for being too cheesy. 

"I like him already, Kats," she chuckles, and immediately an immense weight is lifted from Izuku’s shoulders. Without thinking, Izuku reaches over and gives the top of Katsuki's thigh a light squeeze. 

"Good," Katsuki swallows. 

"So what are you gonna do once you get your degree?" She asks, jumping right back into the questioning. Izuku grins, but panics on the inside. 

"I'll probably be a professor and teach philosophy," he shrugs, unsure if that's impressive to her or not. He's so used to his own mother finding it very unimpressive. "Though which university is up in the air. I know Kacchan wants to go pro after college, so I'll probably look for positions closer to where he ends up playing." 

And then he freezes. They’ve never actually talked about that. Does Kacchan actually want to go pro? Did he make that up? Will she see straight through it? Crap!

"Oh, my heart," She sighs. "It makes me so happy to hear that you've been thinking about the future and not just rushing into things." 

Izuku glances over at Kacchan next to him and notices the little smile playing at his lips. They twitch ever so slightly, like he’s actively trying not to show how pleased he is. Cute. Ahh.

"Gotta be prepared," Izuku shrugs. 

"That's right," she nods, leaning forward. “Only the best for my Katsuki.” 

“Of course, it’s what he deserves,” Izuku offers. His heart is still pounding in his chest, but he also is well aware that he’s on a roll here. Katsuki’s mom is eating up everything he’s saying. “S-so, Kacchan was telling me you own an ice rink?” 

“ Kacchan,” she repeats. “So cute. Yeah, it’s been in the family for a long time. This brat practically knew how to skate before he could walk.” 

“That’s really cool,” Izuku smiles. “No wonder you’re so good at hockey.” 

When he turns to Katsuki, he notices the way the omega’s ears turn an even brighter shade of red the more they talk about him. Should Izuku dial it back a bit? Ah, but Mrs. Bakugou seems to really like gushing about Katsuki, so he should probably go along with it. The whole point is to impress her, isn’t it? 

“Yep, that’s years and years of hard work,” She nods. 

The waiter comes by and they place their orders, making for a more casual shift in conversation. Katsuki stays relatively quiet, which is interesting, and Izuku isn’t quite sure what to make of it. Maybe it’s because the two alphas at the table are putting out so much energy. Would that affect him? Izuku doesn’t really know. 

After they order, Katsuki excuses himself to the restroom, and Izuku wants to scream. 

“So, tell me, what made you so enamored with my son that you just had to mate him right away?” 

Ah, crap. 

Izuku’s throat feels dry as he tries to think of a good reason. 

“Well . . . Ah, well, he’s really passionate and strong and I admire that about him,” Izuku says, with a higher degree of honesty than he expected from himself. 

“Yeah? You could have waited until after graduation to mate him, if you were really that serious,” she reminds him. She’s really diving in deep now that Katsuki’s not in earshot anymore. 

Izuku wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. How can he really answer that question without giving away the real reason for their mating? He looks up at Mrs. Bakugou again, taking note of her serious demeanor. She seems intimidating right now, but Izuku can tell that it’s because she cares about her son. 

Izuku sighs. 

“He didn’t want me to tell you this, but . . . I think he feels safer on campus knowing that he has an alpha. It just made sense to make our bond official, you know?” Izuku says, quietly. He holds his breath, worried for a moment that he may have said the wrong thing. But then, she lets go of a long sigh and shakes her head. 

“To be honest, I also feel better knowing this,” she admits. “That boy is so determined, and I support him fully, but I also worry about him like crazy. He’s the type to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and not let anyone else help.” 

Izuku nods. “He doesn’t want you to worry about him. I know he loves you very much, and he doesn’t want to burden you all with anything.” 

“That brat,” she mutters, though her voice lacks any sort of bite. “He does owe me or his dad a damn thing. Everything we’ve done for him has been because we wanted to do it. But I also know that this . . . whole college thing is a big deal for him.” 

“It is?” 

“We wanted him to go to a school closer to home, so that we could be there for him if he needed it,” she explains. “But he insisted that he needed to prove to us that he could do things on his own. Of course, he has nothing to prove. We’d support him regardless.” 

“He’s stubborn,” Izuku smiles. 

“Hell yeah, he is,” she snickers, then goes quiet again. “I know he doesn’t need protection, but he’s my only baby, you know? I can’t help but worry. Please promise me something?” 

“Um, sure,” Izuku says, cautiously, as she reaches out and grabs both of his hands. He holds his breath, nervous and conflicted. 

“Promise me you’ll love him and protect him, and we won’t have any issues, okay? I just want what’s best for my baby,” she says, quietly. 

Izuku’s lips tremble, his inner moral compass spinning around furiously. 

Well. It’s not technically lying is it? 

“I promise,” Izuku whispers, just in time for Katsuki to slide back into the booth. 

“Sorry,” Katsuki mumbles quietly. 

“Oh, sweetie, you picked a good one,” Mrs. Bakugou gushes. “You have to bring him home to visit as soon as you get a chance!”

“Ah, sure,” Katsuki says, like he’s caught off guard by the request. 

“Good! So where are you from, Izuku?” 

The rest of the meal goes on pretty normally. Mrs. Bakugou relaxes on her interrogations, and insists that Izuku call her Mitsuki because he’s already part of the family.

It’s so bizarre, and Izuku feels absolutely terrible, because he knows she’ll be devastated if she finds out this whole relationship is a sham! Ugh! 

But it’s for a good reason, right? 

After their meal, Mitsuki walks them to their bus stop to part ways. She hugs Izuku, then nearly tackles Katsuki to the ground. 

“I’m glad I got to see you, you brat,” she says, lovingly. She kisses the side of his face, making him groan. “And your alpha. He’s a keeper.” 

“Yeah?”  Katsuki grunts, wriggling out of her smothering grasp on him. 

“Of course, a mother can sense these things. It’s obvious how much he loves you!” 

Izuku pales, freezing as Katsuki’s eyes lock onto his own. 

“He does,” Katsuki breathes. She gives him another wet kiss on the cheek and hugs Izuku again before she leaves. 

And then the two of them are alone again as they wait for their bus. 

“That went well,” Izuku tells him. Katsuki looks down at his feet and nods. 

“Thanks,” he rasps. “For putting on such a good act for her. “

Izuku’s throat tightens and he has the sudden, odd, urge to push him up against the wall of the bus shelter, tell him it wasn’t just an act, and kiss his perfect lips. 

But he doesn’t. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispers instead. 

Chapter Text

"Mary is a scientist," Izuku says to his class, making a crude stick figure drawing on the board. He’s not sure why he even felt the need to draw it, but he can’t turn back now, so he just goes with it. "She knows everything there is to know about everything and she studies inside this room." 

He pauses to draw a box around the figure. 

"This room is unique because everything that Mary sees is in black and white. Mary has been inside this one room all her life, yet she's had access to every bit of information there is in the world. She knows everything about the color red. She knows its origins, the way it reflects light, and about what sorts of things are typically red."

Izuku pauses as someone in one of the middle rows raises a hand. For a moment, his chest feels lighter, relieved that someone finally seems interested in what he has to say.

"Yes?" 

"Did this really happen? Because that's fucked up if it did." 

Izuku sighs. 

"No, no, this is another thought experiment. Like the ship of Theseus or the Trolley Problem. This one is about Mary the Scientist," Izuku explains, and tries to ignore the annoyed groans. He's heard it all. Not everyone understands why they talk about these stories. But he’s losing them, so he can’t stop to argue, can he? 

He deflates as he turns back to his textbook to make sure he’s explaining everything right. Sometimes this whole teaching thing doesn’t make much sense. He knows all about these topics. He’s passionate about the topics he lectures about, to say the least. So why can’t he seem to hold the attention of a class on the most fundamental lessons in philosophy?

"So say one day, Mary leaves her black and white room and is presented with a red apple. Has Mary learned something new?" he poses the question and holds back a grimace because he's pretty sure he fucked up that explanation yet again. 

"No, it's an apple." He's not sure who it is that responds, but the comment earns several snickers. 

" No, she's experiencing the color red for the first time," Uraraka chimes in from her usual seat in the front row. "It was in the chapter we were all supposed to read for homework." 

If the ground could just open up and swallow him home right now, that would be nice. Preferable, actually. He's a sucker for a good debate but this is all semantics and it's way too early for any of it. Briefly, his eyes flicker towards the back of the room where Katsuki has his hood pulled over his eyes. His head is rolled back against his seat, his arms crossed lazily over his chest.

After all they've been through, he can’t even pay attention to Izuku’s lecture for a little while? 

Then again, maybe this is a true testament to Izuku’s teaching abilities . . . or lack thereof. Is he really so boring and bad at his job that the person he’s been sleeping with isn’t even interested in what he has to say? Or maybe even willing to pretend to be interested? Dammit! 

“Well maybe I read it and it still doesn’t make sense,” The first student responds to Uraraka, his tone a little too rude for Izuku’s liking. 

“Hey, we don’t need to be rude to each other, okay? I’m happy to rephrase if I need to, and we can debate the topic as long as we can remain civil,” Izuku assures them. 

“I’m not the one who started it, she’s the one being a bitch—” 

“ Hey! Not okay, you can leave if you can’t conduct yourself in a professional manner,” Izuku snaps, trying to remain firm, even though on the inside he’s falling apart. He can see himself losing control of the class more and more quickly and it’s terrifying. What the heck is wrong with him that he can’t get it together?! 

He takes in a shaky breath, doing his best to stay calm and not, like, cry in front of everyone. 

“And fucking your students is professional?” 

The comment hits Izuku completely out of left field. In an instant, his entire body feels both hot and cold at the same time, and his throat is so tight he can hardly breathe. Did someone just say that or did Izuku imagine it? He looks cautiously in the direction of the voice, and his stomach drops. 

Tsubaraba. The guy from the hockey team that Katsuki told him not to worry about. Crap. Crap! 

“Absolutely not. I don’t know why you would even say something like that,” he mutters. “We are getting way off topic.” 

“Holy shit, he’s fucking her?” The first guy says. 

“Ew, no!” Uraraka shrieks, as if it would be the last thing she would ever do. A little hurtful, but it doesn’t matter. 

“ Mary was a scientist —” 

“No, he’s fucking Bakugou,” Tsubaraba says, jutting his thumb behind him in the direction of the sleeping omega in the back row. 

“You can leave!” Izuku shouts, his voice loud enough to stun the entire class into silence. 

He hopes none of them can see how badly his hands are shaking as he points to the exit. Tsubaraba and the other student stare at him, but Izuku holds his stance firm and the two guys eventually curse and shuffle out of the room. 

The rest of the lecture hall is terrifyingly silent as they make their exit, all of their eyes on Izuku. Probably wondering who he’s going to scream at next. Dammit, why did he yell like that?! Saying nothing would have seemed less suspicious! And of course Katsuki is still lights out through the whole ordeal! 

Must be fucking nice! 

All he wants to do is cry, but he still picks up his textbook and clears his throat. 

“S-so, Mary was a scientist . . . “ 

___

The lecture drags on for what feels like an eternity. No one says a damn thing, they just listen in eerie silence as Izuku rambles on about the thought experiment. He doesn’t pause for questions, either, just barrels through and does his best to get it over with. 

Finally, the torture eventuall ends and everyone starts to file out of the room. Izuku drops his head against the podium and closes his eyes, taking a couple of deep, calming breaths. 

“Are you alright, Midoriya?” Uraraka asks sheepishly, once she has her stuff packed up. 

“I’m fine,” he says, weakly as he picks his head up. She’s giving him an annoyingly sad look, so he forces a smile and laughs. “Really! I’m fine.” 

“Okay,” she says. “I believe you, by the way. Those guys are just jerks and were mad because they didn’t do the work they were supposed to do.” 

And somehow, that faith in him hurts more than the public accusation from Tsubaraba. 

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. 

Should he have thought it through more before sending them off? What would he say anyway? That he saw them standing near each other on a weekend? Not exactly hard evidence. No way it would hold up in a court of law— Ah, he’s getting ahead of himself. 

He watches as Uraraka leaves, leaving the lecture hall empty. 

Well, mostly. 

His eyes fall on the sleeping Katsuki in the back, and he lets out a deep sigh. Of course. He slings his bag over his shoulder and marches to the back row until he arrives at Katsuki’s seat. 

Katsuki looks so sweet when he’s asleep, and it reminds him of the time they spent the night together. So peaceful, so—Ugh! 

Izuku frowns and kicks at Katsuki’s shoe as hard as he can. The omega startles and jumps awake, having the audacity to look offended by Izuku’s waking him up. 

“The fuck—?”

“You said I didn’t have to worry!” He chokes, the tears he’d been holding in finally bubbling up to the surface. Katsuki’s eyes search over him in a panic, like his sleepy brain is desperately trying to keep up with Izuku’s antics. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You didn’t hear any of that?!” Izuku shrieks, panicking all over again. This whole thing feels like some awful nightmare that he’s never going to wake up from. Just in case, he even pinches his arm, ready to scream when nothing happens. 

This is all real. 

“You’re freaking me out, what the fuck?” 

“Tsubaraba just accused me of fucking you to the entire class!” He says, exasperated. 

This is not happening, it’s so not happening. But saying it out loud makes it feel like it definitely is. 

“Holy shit,” Katsuki says, his eyes widening. “You’re kidding.” 

“I wish I was! Katsuki, I don’t know what to do, this can’t happen. It really can’t. I’ll have to tell them it’s a fake relationship so they don’t tell Aizawa—”

“You can’t!” Katsuki shouts, standing up and causing Izuku to stumble backwards. 

“I’ll lose my job!” 

“Tsubaraba’s on the hockey team if he finds out it’s fake, he’ll tell— Fuck, he’ll tell the others and— Fuck, you can’t tell him that,” he says, his voice louder and more desperate before. His sudden change in tone is concerning, but Izuku’s so upset that he can’t help but be angry.

“I’ll fucking lose my job, Katsuki,” he reiterates, ready to explode when Katsuki doesn’t seem to register that fact or even care. “But you don’t have that kind of responsibility to worry about, so of course you wouldn’t understand.” 

“Asshole, what is that supposed to mean!?” he hisses. Izuku’s nostrils flare as he internally recognizes that it was a pretty mean thing to say to Katsuki. But he’s too caught up in his emotions to apologize for it just yet. 

“I can’t do this right now. I have a thesis meeting in thirty minutes, and I have to come up with a non-bullshit explanation for this since I’m sure Tsubaraba has already run to him to turn me in,” he says. 

He turns on his heel and stomps towards the entrance, but only makes it a few steps before Katsuki grabs him by the arm. 

“Izuku, please, you can’t tell him,” he grits, his fingers squeezing tight around his bicep. He can smell the growing stench of distress, reminding him that they are, in fact, still mated. Bonded. That whatever fucked up thing they have going on is more complicated than some silly fake relationship. 

“Why not?” He asks, struggling to keep his tone calm as he speaks. 

“You . . . You wouldn’t understand,” he says, his voice low. Izuku rolls his eyes and rips his arm from his grasp. With that, he heads out. 

And this time, Katsuki doesn’t try to stop him. 

Katsuki has never felt more conflicted in his entire life. 

There’s a part of him that, for whatever reason, cares about Izuku and doesn’t want him to lose his job. Hell, he feels a crippling amount of guilt knowing that he might be the cause of all this. That it’s going to be all his fault if Izuku really does lose his job. 

But he also fears for his own safety, whether he’s willing to say it out loud. Whatever he was afraid of Yoarashi and them doing to him before his deal with Izuku . . . well, it would be far worse if they found out it was all a lie. 

Shit. 

As much as he wants to take a sick day and hide out in his room, he knows it will all be less suspicious if he actually goes to practice. Besides, their game is tomorrow and if Katsuki has any chance of making the coach change his mind about the starting line up, he has to put extra work into his training. So that’s what he does. He heads to the locker rooms far earlier than he usually does, and changes in solitude. 

It’s stupid, having to get to practice so early that he’s sitting outside the locker room in full gear, just waiting until others show up. 

When he was in high school, it wasn’t like this. He grew up in a town that was used to him—Proud of him, even. He had a team that stuck by him and supported him. They were his friends , whom he was always happy to socialize with before and after practice. 

He knows it shouldn’t be this way. That what they’re doing is wrong, and in some cases downright illegal. But he can’t get past the hopelessness he feels when he wonders if anyone would ever take his pain seriously. 

Just quit, they’d say. 

Find another sport. Join the goddamned club team! 

No one fucking gets it. If Katsuki can’t get through this, if he can’t succeed in his college hockey career, then he’ll never go pro. 

He’ll never be the first omega to go pro. 

At his level, he should have been drafted already. But he’s an omega, so he has to prove himself and the whole situation is entirely fucked.

He reaches up and rubs at his eyes, even though he isn’t crying. Not yet, anyway. But he can’t get the image of Izuku’s face out of his head. The alpha looked so disappointed in him, so upset. And for some reason, that feels devastating. 

Should he just suck it up and tell the truth? That would make Izuku happy, wouldn’t it?

“Look who’s here early again.” 

Katsuki keeps his eyes cast downward as Yoarashi and Shishikura pass through the hallway outside the locker room. He doesn’t have the energy for this. 

“Being a kiss ass isn’t gonna get your starting spot back,” Shishikura reminds him. Katsuki looks up and gives both of them a firm glare. He won’t engage verbally, though. He has to hold himself back at least a little bit. But he does falter when he sees that Tsubaraba is trailing right behind them. 

“Maybe if you suck coach’s dick you might,” he smirks. Katsuki stands on instinct, fists clenched by his sides as the three alphas erupt into laughter. 

“Fuck off,” he chokes, his arms trembling as he fights the urge to lunge himself at them and start throwing fists. They just look so infuriating standing there, laughing at Katsuki when they don’t even know shit about him. But he can’t. If he retaliated, he’d be off the team in a heartbeat. 

“Nasty, man,” Yoarashi laughs, as if Tsubaraba had just made that up on the spot. Katsuki swallows hard. “The fuck are you gonna do? Huh?” 

Katsuki glares, his nerves on fire as he stares him down. His pride hates the way that these dicks always get away with treating Katsuki like shit. They’d deserve it if Katsuki were to go off and beat the shit out of them—

No. No. 

“Nothing,” he finally says, and sits back down.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” 

Izuku stares at his laptop screen as Shinsou kicks him under the table. He frowns and kicks him back, then looks up. Shinsou gives him a concerned look and mouths: Are you okay?

“No,” Izuku whispers. 

“Everything okay over there?” Aizawa addresses them both. Izuku straightens up and looks down at the table to his advisor, who’s stopped typing. 

“Yeah,” he lies. Aizawa hasn’t said anything to him yet, but every time they make eye contact, Izuku feels this enormous pressure and guilt. Like he knows, doesn’t he? He knows and he’s just making Izuku suffer. The anticipation is what’s killing him, really. If Aizawa could just hurry up and fire him, then he’d be able to tackle that rather than worry about what-ifs and hypotheticals that send him into panic-induced thought spirals. 

“Alright, so midterms are in a week,” he says, tired, just going through his list of housekeeping tasks. “I’ll have test materials ready for your sections day-of and be sure to email me names of anyone who needs a makeup test.” 

“When do they need to be graded by?” Shinsou asks, as Izuku adds it as another thing to do on his calendar. Shinsou seems so calm and fine with this. How does he do it? Because Izuku feels like he’s drowning every time something else gets added to his plate. 

“A week from midterms, so I can enter them,” he sighs. “Next, you both need to submit your case study proposals.” 

“I’m emailing it to you now,” Shinsou says, and Izuku frowns, going back into his laptop to open the document he had started for his proposal . . . Blank. Nothing. Crap. 

“Midoriya?” 

“I um, I need a few more days,” he mumbles, sheepishly, without looking up to meet Aizawa’s gaze. His stomach churns with anxiety; as if this day couldn’t get any worse! First, his class goes terribly, he’s most likely been exposed for sleeping with a student, and he’s behind on his own assignments! 

A dark, twisted part of his brain thinks maybe things would be easier if he did get fired and dropped from the program. He wouldn’t have to worry about that case study anymore. Ha. 

“Don’t take too long, you need to get started on it, and you can’t do that until I’ve approved it,” he says, his voice unaffected. “Remember it should be a case study of an issue on campus, and how it can be addressed using ethical principles.” 

“I know.” 

“Shinsou, will you share yours?” 

“Sure,” he says, proudly. For someone who acts so laid back most of the time, he sure is a teacher’s pet. “I’m looking at the Department of Transportation and how it’s a moral conundrum. Does the moral standard of following parking regulations outweigh the fact that it seems unethical to enforce high fines for students who pay to attend school already and more than likely can’t afford a fine?” 

“Perfect,” he nods. “Those fuckers gave me a ticket once, so I’d be interested to read what you have to say.” 

“Infuriating, isn’t it?” Shinsou laughs, turning up the charm. 

“So Midoriya, what issues seem pressing to you?” He asks, putting him back on the spot. Izuku frowns, wracking his brain to try and think. 

“Um,” he mumbles. “Wh-what about the moral obligation people feel to find a mate?” 

“Too broad, it needs to be specific to campus,” he says, shooting it down immediately. Izuku wavers, but he knows Aizawa is right. It’s an incredibly vague and overdone topic. And not something Izuku necessarily feels passionate about. 

What does Izuku feel passionate about? 

The fact that he can’t think of anything is soul-crushing. 

“Well, think about it and have an answer for me by Friday,” he says, closing his laptop. Izuku jumps, alarmed that he’s closing the meeting without even mentioning Tsubaraba. What is he doing, going to the police instead of talking to Izuku first? Dammit, he can’t let that happen! 

“Is that it?” 

“Yes?” Aizawa says. “Unless you have anything for me.” 

Izuku’s mouth parts slightly, his throat drying up quickly. His heart hammers rapidly in his chest as he glances between Aizawa and Shinsou, who are both packing up their things. What’s happening? Is this all a test? 

“Did um, ah, one of my students stop by to talk to you today? O-or send you any emails?” Izuku asks, his voice quivering uncontrollably. 

“Don’t think so,” Aizawa sighs. “Haven’t heard anything.” 

Izuku should feel relieved. He isn’t getting in trouble and he isn’t losing his job yet. 

So why does he feel disappointed? 

“Why?” Aizawa prompts. Izuku should lie and brush it off and not talk about it unless absolutely necessary, right? 

“Something happened in my morning section today and I had to remove two students from the class and I just thought they probably would have gone to you about it,” Izuku says, his lips moving quickly like he’s afraid he won’t get the words out if he moves too slowly. 

Aizawa gives him a quizzical look. 

“Dude, what?” Shinsou laughs, subtly reminding Izuku that he hasn’t been briefed on the drama yet. 

“And why did you ask them to leave?” 

“B-because they were being disruptive.” 

“Well, I trust your judgment—”

“And one of them accused me of sleeping with a student!” 

“ Dude.”

Izuku slaps a hand over his own mouth, like he doesn’t trust it to not rattle off any more incriminating shit. He trembles as he waits for Aizawa’s response. He appears unaffected, which is frankly more terrifying than an outright anger response. 

“Well, is it true?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“No it’s not, Izuku wouldn’t do that,” Shinsou says, defensively coming to his aid. 

“W-well, this person doesn’t have any proof, but I feel like it would be better for you to hear it from me,” Izuku says, all while Shinsou tries to nonverbally dissuade him. “Th-that one of the students in my section is um, my mate.” 

Ah, there. It’s out there. 

The secret doesn’t have to eat him alive anymore. 

Maybe he’ll have to say goodbye to his Ph.D. but it’s better than worrying about this constantly, right? Haha. 

“Is that so?” Aizawa says, running his fingers through his hair. “Well, you know what we have to do, right?” 

Izuku gulps and nods. 

“You’ll have to kick me out of the program.” 

“What? No, I’ll have to move him out of your section,” Aizawa says, with an amused chuckle. “You can’t be giving grades to someone you’re bonded to, it’s unethical. Give me your mate’s name.” 

Izuku stares at him dumbfounded. 

“What?” 

“The name?” He repeats. 

“No, I mean—I’m not fired?” 

“No? Do you want me to fire you?” 

“N-no,” Izuku gulps. “It’s um . . . Bakugou Katsuki.” 

“Give me a minute,” he sighs, opening his laptop again and typing away. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Shinsou whispers. Izuku frowns and shrugs. Shinsou doesn’t get it. Probably because he wouldn’t let himself get into this convoluted situation anyway! Crap, why does this have to be so hard?! 

Technically, he’s not lying to Aizawa anymore. And it feels better to not lie. 

The part that feels shitty is the fact that he’s almost disappointed. 

Wouldn’t it have been easier to just give him an out? A better question: Why is Izuku acting like he wants a way out? He loves this job! Loves philosophy! Loves teaching, even though he’s bad at it. 

“Good news and bad news,” Aizawa finally pipes up. 

“Oh?” 

“Good news is that this kid has terrible grades, no one could accuse you of unfairly inflating his grades. Bad news is he’s an athlete, so I can’t change his schedule,” he sighs, leaning against the armrest of his chair as he thinks it through. 

“Can’t you give him someone else’s section?” Shinsou asks. Aizawa grins and gives him a thumbs-up. 

“Great idea! You both have 101, so I’ll just swap your sections, effective immediately.” 

“What! No! He’s got the morning class!” Shinsou shouts, standing up. “I meant to switch him with like, ethics, or something. He fucking loves ethics!” 

“That’s too much work for me,” Aizawa sighs, then smirks. “Besides, I heard you two whispering just now. Clearly you were in on this. I think it’s fair, don’t you?” 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” Shinsou scoffs, glaring in Izuku’s direction as soon as he sits back down. Izuku swallows and gives him a weak smile. “You still owe me big time.” 

“Of course! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Izuku laughs. 

He feels a little lighter now, knowing that this is the solution. 

Everyone wins, right? 

For now, at least. 

Chapter Text

“Bus is leaving tomorrow at ten a.m. sharp,” Coach warns the team as he continues through his list of reminders for their first away game. It sours Katsuki’s mood, because even after a great practice, where he was on fire , he still doesn’t get to start. 

It’s fucking bullshit. 

“Remember that you still need to make up any assignments that you miss tomorrow if you have classes. Several of you are getting way too close to academic probation for my liking, so if I call your name, please stay back for a moment. The rest of you can head back to the locker room,” he continues. Katsuki groans internally, his stomach twisting at the thought of yet another bout of humiliation. 

He knows he’s been slacking off, and he’s had to do tutoring shit. But he didn’t think he’d be that close. Coach goes through a short list of names before dismissing the rest of the team, and Katsuki is stunned for a moment when his name isn’t called. He breathes a sigh of relief, then stands up to head back into the locker room. 

Times like these suck, because he has no choice but to change with everyone else. Or, at least, at the same time as everyone else. It’s intimidating, so when this happens, he’ll take his shit from his locker and change in one of the bathroom stalls. The last thing he needs is for any of those assholes to catch a glimpse of him naked. 

Thankfully, he’s able to quickly duck in and out, allowing him to change in peace. He gets dressed and fishes his phone from his duffle bag before slinging it over his shoulder. There aren’t any new messages from Izuku, which is weirdly disappointing. The last time they spoke he seemed so angry and it hasn’t been sitting right with Katsuki. 

He feels the overwhelming need to do something. To go straight to the alpha and make everything better somehow. Or, at least get confirmation that he hasn’t decided to hate Katsuki or break their bond. 

Should he be concerned by the fact that simply imagining breaking their bond is physically painful? Maybe. He’s been doing every damn thing in his power to push away any thoughts like that. If he thinks too hard about it, he might start realizing things and getting his feelings hurt. 

He doesn’t have text messages, but he does have a new email on his school account. Curious, he opens it, just to make sure there’s nothing he’s missing. 

From: Dr. Aizawa Shouta

To: All 

Subject: TA Change 

Katsuki’s stomach drops as he reads the email subject, nervous to continue on. 

Effective immediately, Midoriya Izuku will no longer be your section’s TA. Moving forward, please direct your emails to—

He can’t do it. He can’t finish reading it. 

Shaking, he shoves the phone back into his bag and storms out of the stall. His heart is racing and his throat is tight as he marches down the aisles until he finds Tsubaraba. The guy had seemed so harmless before, but now seems just as bad as Yoarashi and the others. 

“What the fuck did you do?!” Katsuki shouts at him, not even thinking before shoving him backwards. It isn’t a hard shove, and the guy barely stumbles, but the physical contact is alarming. 

“Holy shit,” Tsubaraba mutters, caught off guard by Katsuki’s outburst. He earns a few whistles and laughs from onlookers who are thoroughly amused by Katsuki’s rage. 

“Did you just put your fuckin’ hands on him?” 

Katsuki jumps, not realizing that Yoarashi had been standing by. 

“I barely fucking touched him,” Katsuki chokes, taking a step back. 

“Chill, I’m not worried about some crazy bitch,” Tsubaraba chuckles. Katsuki purses his lips angrily, wishing he could prove that he isn’t some crazy bitch. And that they all should be worried about him because he’s fucking strong. He could totally take them all out if he really wanted to.

“What did you do?” Katsuki repeats, reminding himself of the reason he sought out the alpha in the first place.  

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“You went to Professor Aizawa, didn’t you? You don’t know shit about anything and you went and told and now he’s been fired.” Katsuki has to stop and swallow. Hell if he’s gonna let himself cry in front of these assholes. “You had no fucking right to do that.” 

“I didn’t go to anyone,” Tsubaraba scoffs. “Not my damn problem if you’re fucking your way through college.” 

“That’s not —”

“Hold on, what?” Yoarashi chuckles. Crap. No. Fuck. 

“Bakugou’s fucking our philosophy TA,” Tsubaraba fills him in. Katsuki bites down on his lower lip. 

“Shut up,” Katsuki hisses. 

“Damn, I thought you had an alpha,” Shishikura says. Katsuki panics. 

“It’s the same person,” he mutters. “I have to go.” 

“Oh no you don’t —”

For a moment, everything happens so fast, yet so slow at the same time. Just as Katsuki tries to make a run for it, two of the alphas pull him back and push him down to the floor. He flails about, trying desperately to get away, but his strength is nothing when he has multiple people holding him back. 

“Stop it! Fuck, stop, don’t touch me —” he pleads, cut off as one of them lands a punch right below his ribs and knocks the wind from his lungs. He’s not sure what they’re going to do, if they’re capable of going that far. But he’s not about to fucking find out. 

He panics as someone pulls and rips at his shirt. 

“Holy shit,” Yoarashi says, inviting a lull in the chaos for a moment. It takes a moment for Katsuki to understand what’s going on, but then he realizes that his neck is completely on display for the rest of them to see. 

“Bitch really is mated.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means don’t get your fucking scent on him or the alpha’s gonna know who you are, dumb ass,” Yoarashi scoffs, proving that he’s not as stupid as he looks. For a moment, Katsuki thinks he’s going to get a break, or that they’ll let him go. 

But just as he tries to sit up, someone’s fist collides with his face and everything goes black. 

“I’m s —”

“Apologize one more time, and I’m going to scream,” Shinsou sighs, reaching over to pause whatever it was he was watching on the TV. “It’s fine, seriously.” 

“No, it’s not,” Izuku says. “I made too many poor decisions, and now it’s affecting other people and I feel bad.” 

“Look, you can buy us dinner or something, it’s not that big of a deal,” Shinsou sighs. “Besides, I know how much you like this guy. It’s all working out, isn’t it?” 

“How much I . . . “ 

“Okay, maybe that can be how you pay me back.” 

“What?” Izuku sputters, confused. 

“Accept that you like him and that this fake relationship isn’t as fake as you think it is, and then I’ll call us even,” he shrugs, a smug grin plastered across his lips. “What’s that look for? You know I’m right.” 

“What? No, I just . . . It wouldn’t work,” Izuku sighs. 

“Why not?” 

“Because! Argh, I don’t know! I don’t know how he feels about all this, and I know he’s just using me to get his way and it’s so frustrating!” 

“But you help him anyway because you have a crush on him,” Shinsou supplies. Izuku groans and invites himself to sit down on the couch next to Shinsou. The whole situation is driving him crazy because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or think. For one thing, Shinsou is partially right. Katsuki is very attractive and sweet and funny, and possesses so many qualities that Izuku would want in a real mate. But he’s also self-centered and arrogant and doesn’t trust Izuku enough to tell him anything. 

Like about his hockey team. Izuku can’t tell if Katsuki is just selfish, or if there are things happening that he isn’t telling him about. He doesn’t want to believe either of those things are true, but he can’t help but wonder. 

Why can’t Katsuki just be honest? 

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Izuku sighs. “I wish he could just tell me things instead of just assuming I won’t understand him.” 

“He’s young,” Shinsou reminds him. Izuku gives him a tired look. Like yes, thank you for reminding him of yet another potential issue with their relationship. 

“It’s not like that —” 

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. It’s all legal and shit, and he’s an adult, but he’s a freshman in college. He’s still not used to communicating with people like an adult,” Shinsou explains. “I don’t think you are, either.” 

“Hey!” 

“Oh, so you’re saying you’ve told him exactly how you feel about him and don’t hide anything?” Shinsou raises an eyebrow. Izuku opens his mouth to protest, but no words come out. He’s got nothing. 

Sure, he’s been pretty vocal about not being fired, but he doesn’t tell Katsuki everything, either. Katsuki doesn’t know how much he’s been stressing out about his career choices. Or how much he enjoys spending time with the omega. 

That he looks forward to seeing him every time, and thinks about him when they’re not together.  

“Maybe I still have some room for improvement,” he sighs. “I was kind of harsh earlier, and I have been avoiding reaching out to him since then.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought I was going to get fired and I thought he didn’t care,” Izuku elaborates. “In that moment I wanted him to help me clear the air and tell Aizawa that the whole thing was fake and he refused.”

“Sounds like you need to talk to him, not me,” Shinsou grins, reaching for the TV remote again. “As in . . . maybe you should leave me alone and go call him.” 

“What are you watching?”

“Izuku.”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll call him,” he sighs, getting up from the couch. He steps in the direction of his room, ready to go call Katsuki, when a sudden, loud banging comes from the front door. He jumps slightly, not expecting anyone to be banging on their door so late. “Did you order something?” 

“Nope,” Shinsou says, just as the banging picks up again. Izuku sighs and trudges to the door, squinting to peer through the peep hole in the door to see who it is. When he does, he gasps and pulls it open. 

“I’m so sorry,” Katsuki blurts out, before Izuku can even fully process what’s in front of him. It’s Katsuki, yes, just the person he needed to talk to. But he’s also soaking wet from the rain, his shirt half-torn at the shoulder, with purple bruising blooming between his eyes. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” Izuku gasps, ushering him inside and allowing the omega to crumble against him. He’s in bad shape, and Izuku can’t even begin to fathom why. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, let’s get you dried off,” Izuku says,  trying his best to remain calm as he leads Katsuki through the living room. Their movement is awkward and heavy, as Katsuki’s duffle bag swings from his shoulder. Maybe he just came from practice?

“You need help?” Shinsou asks, looking just as alarmed. Izuku shakes his head. 

“I’ll let you know if I do,” he says, pulling Katsuki into his bedroom so he can get out of his wet clothes. He pulls away from him long enough to pull a few towels from the bathroom for Katsuki. 

“Fuck, the floor’s all wet now, shit,” Katsuki mutters to himself, cursing at the puddle beneath his feet. 

“It’s okay, it’ll dry. What happened? You’re worrying me,” Izuku asks, draping one of the towels over his head to dry his face. It lets him get a good look at Katsuki’s eyes. It’s obvious that he’s crying, and obvious that something or some one hit him in the face. He’d guess it was from hockey, but the tattered shirt isn’t consistent with that theory. 

“It’s fine, I’m not — I’m sorry. I saw Dr. Aizawa’s email and I know you got fired, and it’s all my fucking fault. I didn’t think he’d actually do it. I tried to talk to him,” Katsuki chokes, getting himself worked up all over again. He reeks of distress. 

“Slow down, slow down,” Izuku insists, doing his best to keep his voice down. As concerned as he is, keeping Katsuki calm is all he can focus on.  “I didn’t get fired. He made Shinsou and me switch sections, that’s all.” 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really, I promise," he says, quietly. He lets the towel fall around Katsuki's shoulders, then reaches out to run his fingers through his hair. Katsuki flinches at first, then leans into Izuku's attempt to soothe. 

He's at least a head taller than Izuku, but like this, he looks so small. His eyes are wide and wet with tears, his cheeks squished as he presses against Izuku's hands. 

"What happened, Kacchan?" Izuku asks, softly scenting him. 

"I can't tell you," he whispers. Izuku presses his lips together into a firm line. The defiant response makes his blood boil in an unexpected way. He's not one to get angry very easily, but he also is tired of Katsuki keeping things from him. 

"Why don't you take a shower, and I'll get you some ice," Izuku says, dropping his hands and moving away. 

"Wait, you're mad aren't you?" Katsuki asks, the desperation in his voice clear. Izuku turns back and stares at him for a moment. What's going on with him? Something is clearly tearing him up and it hurts to see. But Izuku is also wary because he doesn't want to feel like he's just caving to an omega's tears. Is this real or is it his alpha telling him to protect. 

He doesn't know anymore! 

"I'm not mad, I'm just tired of you keeping things from me. I do so much for you and you still don't even trust me. It sucks," Izuku says, reminding himself that he needs to be more direct. 

"I do trust you . . . I wouldn't have asked you to mate with me if I didn't. Please don't be mad, I just can't fucking handle that right now, okay?" he chokes. 

"I can't just not be mad just because you don't want me to," Izuku sighs. 

"So you are mad." 

"Augh! I don't know! Maybe I am now!" he shouts. And then he instantly regrets raising his voice upon seeing the way that Katsuki flinches. What happened? "Sorry, crap, I shouldn’t yell. I'm gonna get you ice, okay?" 

Before he can dig himself into a hole even further, he exits the room and shuts the door behind him.

"Everything okay in there?" Shinsou asks as Izuku crosses the living room. 

"I don't know. He's really worked up," Izuku says, with a long sigh. "I'm trying to calm him down but he still won't tell me anything!"

"Hey, I know it's frustrating but just think . . . Seeing how torn up he was just now. Whatever is going on I'm sure has nothing to do with you." 

Izuku takes a deep breath. 

"I know," he says, quietly. He pulls an ice pack out of the freezer then heads back to his bedroom. When he returns, he sees that Katsuki is already in the shower.

Setting the ice pack aside, he sits down on the edge of his bed. Deep breaths. Deep breaths will help. 

As he breathes, he listens to the muffled sounds of running water coming from the bathroom. When he closes his eyes, all he can see is bruising and swelling on Katsuki’s face. 

Admittedly, Izuku knows next to nothing about hockey. But he did go to that one game, and could see how hard and fast that puck would go flying. If Katsuki had been hit by a puck or a stick, there's no doubt his condition would be much worse. 

Which means . . . well, Izuku isn't totally sure. He knows that Katsuki was afraid of his teammates enough to warrant the perceived protection of an alpha mate. Katsuki never elaborated much on what that meant, just that the alphas on his team were assholes who didn't like having an omega on their team. 

Katsuki had made it seem purely preventative, but now that Izuku is thinking more deeply about it, his gut is telling him that reality is much worse. 

The water stops running and Izuku looks up. 

Oh. 

"Do you have something dry to change into?" Izuku asks. 

"Fuck," He hears Katsuki say from the other side of the door. Izuku sighs and scrambles to his dresser, hoping to find something that might fit Katsuki. He has a pair of sweatpants that are oversized, and a sweatshirt that used to be his dad's that he never grew into. Not exactly the best outfit combo, but it should work. 

"Here, try this," Izuku says, cracking the bathroom door and maneuvering the clothes into the room. Katsuki sighs and pulls the door all the way open before taking the items. 

"Nothing you haven't seen before," he mumbles, noticing Izuku’s awkward attempt to give him some privacy. 

"Yeah, I guess not," Izuku replies, stealing a quick glance as Katsuki slips into the sweatpants. They're a little short on him, but seem to fit well enough. The top is definitely too short, but Katsuki doesn't say anything about it. 

"Thanks," Katsuki says, his voice barely audible. 

"Of course," Izuku says. "Did that help? You seem . . . calmer." 

Katsuki nods, but then shrugs . . . and then shakes his head. 

"I don't fucking know," he grits, his eyes welling with tears again. Oh no! Izuku didn't mean to— 

"Sorry, ah, I got you ice, come sit okay?" he insists, exiting the bathroom and inviting Katsuki to sit next to him on his bed. Katsuki follows suit and takes the ice, wincing as it makes contact with his injury. 

"Sorry for fucking . . . barging in like this. You probably think I'm insane." 

"No . . . It's okay. I mean, I'm worried about you, but I'm glad that you came here," Izuku tells him, honestly. Glad that he didn't try to hide this from him, at least. And, well, his alpha is relieved that this is the first place he ran to when he clearly needed help. 

That shouldn't matter, though. 

"I wanna tell you what happened, but I already know what you're gonna say and I don't want another lecture," Katsuki explains after a deep sigh. Izuku holds his breath, patiently waiting for Katsuki. 

This is it. He really does trust him. 

"I won't be mad at you," Izuku promises. 

"That's not what I'm worried about. It's hard to make people understand. Just know that quitting the team is not an option, okay? Quitting would be like letting them win," Katsuki explains, staring at the floor and refusing eye contact with Izuku. 

"Okay." 

"I tried to confront Tsubaraba after practice and it blew up on me," he sighs, confirming Izuku’s worst case scenario. "They all started coming after me and fuck, I guess I technically hit him first. It could have been worse." 

"Katsuki, you have two black eyes, how could it have been worse? It already looks pretty bad." Izuku asks, trying as hard as he can to stay calm. Though it's hard when his alpha is furious at the idea that anyone would think it was okay to lay a finger on his omega. 

"Because . . . I thought they were . . . Um," Katsuki grows visibly more uncomfortable. "I was panicking. I thought they were going to . . . " 

He keeps trailing off, like he can't say what it is that he wants to say. And Izuku has a bad feeling he knows what word it is. 

"Katsuki." 

"They didn't," he chokes. "They only stopped because they saw our bond mark and didn't want to get caught."

Izuku stays quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully even as his blood boils beneath his skin. He mulls over the facts, and in his mind, he flashes back to that first time Katsuki came to tutoring with him. He’d had his hood pulled up and then cussed Izuku out for mentioning the bruise on his face. If he had to guess based on what he knows now, that bruise wasn’t from hockey being a rough sport, either. 

“This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?” Izuku asks. “It’s not the first time they’ve hurt you.” 

“It’s . . . no, it’s not. They’ve had it out for me since I first got there,” he explains. “I tried to say something once, and our coach doesn’t really want me there, either. Doesn’t think omegas should be playing with alphas. So I just keep my head down.” 

“That’s not fair,” Izuku says, his tone rising. A mix of emotions is swirling in his chest, and Izuku isn’t quite sure how to process it all. He’s upset that people could be so cruel to Katsuki simply on the basis of his secondary gender. And he’s upset that it’s been happening all along and Izuku had been yelling at Katsuki and calling him selfish. 

In reality, Katsuki’s terrified. 

“It’s not but . . . I can’t give up. And if I complain, they’ll just say it’s because I’m an omega and I can’t handle it. So I have to just power through,” he swallows. 

“It shouldn’t be that way,” Izuku says. “I know you said not to be mad, but it does make me angry to think that people are treating you that way. It’s not okay, Katsuki. When they made all those rules declaring that omegas could join sports teams, it was supposed to make everything better.” 

“They can change the rules all they want, but it takes a long time to get rid of deep-seated prejudices,” he says, solemnly. “When I was a kid, people were really mad at my mom for letting me play hockey. Even took it as far to try and say she was endangering me by letting me play a contact sport.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

“I know,” he sighs. “But it just proves that there are still a lot of people who think omegas are weak.” 

“Which is insane, because I know you could definitely knock me out if you wanted to,” Izuku says. For a moment, Katsuki glances at him, and he wonders if maybe that was the wrong thing to say. But then Katsuki chuckles. 

“Well, lucky for you, you’re on my good side,” he smirks. And then his smile quickly fades. “Please, don’t tell anyone.” 

“I won’t,” Izuku promises. “Just . . . don’t keep these things from me, okay? Let me help you okay?” 

Katsuki thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. “Okay.” 

“Accept that you like him and that this fake relationship isn’t as fake as you think it is, and then I’ll call us even.”

Izuku swallows as Shinsou’s words echo in his ears. Maybe there’s some truth there. To be honest, the entire time he’s been sitting here, nothing has felt more real. Katsuki came to him because he was scared and because he was remorseful when he thought he’d gotten Izuku fired. None of that had anything to do with preserving their fake relationship. 

So maybe it would be okay if —

“Hey, Katsuki,” Izuku says, quietly, his own voice echoing in his ears. The omega looks up for a moment, dropping the ice pack into his lap. They’re already sitting so close, Izuku hadn’t even realized. 

“What?” Katsuki asks, his voice like a whisper. 

When Izuku opens his mouth to speak, everything feels so dry, like he can’t find the words. So he closes his mouth and opts to say nothing. 

Instead, he leans forward and gently presses their lips together. 

It only lasts maybe a second before Izuku realizes what he’s doing and pulls back. His chest is buzzing and fluttering all at the same time — He can’t believe he just did that! Why does such a little kiss feel like such a big deal when they’ve already had sex!? It should be easy, right? 

“Why did you stop?” 

The question catches him off guard. He can’t tell if the redness in Katsuki’s face is from him blushing or from his injuries. But either way, the softness in his voice tells Izuku all he needs to know. 

So, without another word, he leans in and kisses him again. 

Chapter Text

"Kacchan, your alarm."

Izuku's sleepy voice swirls against the nape of Katsuki's neck, nudging him awake as his phone rings from the nightstand. The alpha's voice is low and lazy. And oddly comforting. It pairs nicely with the heavy arm that's still draped around his waist.

Katsuki grimaces, hoping he's just imagining things. It can't possibly be time to wake up yet. 

But, the damn thing keeps blaring and forces Katsuki to sit up, leaving the comfort of his alpha's warm embrace. Annoyed, he turns the alarm off and then rolls over to face Izuku. He's still mostly asleep, sheets slipping down to his waist far enough to remind him that neither of them bothered to put clothes on before falling asleep last night. 

His heart does this weird somersault in his chest as he recalls the previous night. From how he bawled his eyes out in front of the alpha and told him everything, to Izuku kissing him . It isn't clear exactly how that kiss ended up leading to sex. Was it because they both felt so passionate in the moment and were just so overly attracted to each other? Or was it because they both knew that if they stopped, they'd eventually have to talk about their relationship. 

Maybe they should have talked about it more, though. Because suddenly, Katsuki has this overwhelming urge to just curl up at Izuku's side and hold on tight. But without the excuse of sleep or sex to cover up his actions, he's feeling a little too self-aware. 

Katsuki blinks, his stomach buzzing with nerves as he debates internally over what the hell he should do. What's the big deal if they keep cuddling a little bit longer? Katsuki has time before he has to leave for the team bus. 

"Do you have to leave?" Izuku asks, catching Katsuki off guard. He hadn't realized Izuku was fully awake already. 

"No . . . Not yet," Katsuki replies quietly. Izuku's eyes scan over his face for a moment, kind yet full of concern. A reminder that he's still got that ugly bruise on his face. 

"I just—" 

"Don't," Katsuki hisses, cutting him off before he gets the chance to sound sympathetic. It's bad enough that Izuku knows the truth about the team. He definitely wouldn't be able to handle it if Izuku started pitying him. 

"Sorry . . .  I just think you deserve better," Izuku sighs. Katsuki rolls his eyes, then winces at the shooting pain the action brings. Fuck.

"Don't wanna talk about it, nerd," Katsuki scoffs, a little more bite to his tone this time. Izuku frowns and it immediately sends Katsuki spiraling. "Sorry, fuck, I'm not good at this." 

"Okay, that's fine," Izuku sighs. His eyes grow wider for a moment, and his lips part like he's about to speak. But then, his lips snap shut and his freckled cheeks bloom red. 

"What?" 

"N-nothing. Don't worry about it." 

"Not nothing. What are you getting all embarrassed about all of a sudden? We're fuckin' naked. " He points it out without mentioning the glaring irony that is his own flustered insides. 

"Yeah," Izuku breathes. "I was just gonna . . . I wanted to kiss you again." 

Oh. 

Katsuki hadn't expected that to come up again so soon. Heat rises in his cheeks as his head spins, trying to come up with a coherent response. Like a fucking slot machine or something. 

"Fuck you." 

A stupid, fucking, broken slot machine. 

"Fuck! That's not what I meant," Katsuki sputters, backtracking before he screws things up again. That's something he's good at. 

"Then . . . What did you mean?" Izuku asks, rightfully perplexed. Katsuki sighs and props himself up on one elbow. 

"I mean that . . . It's fuckin' fine if you want to kiss me, I don't care," he scoffs, then mentally slaps himself. What the hell is it with this alpha and his ability to mess with Katsuki’s head! 

And then Izuku makes it worse by laughing.

"What the hell's so funny?!"

"You are!" he chuckles, reaching out and letting his hand slip behind Katsuki’s neck. He gently pulls him back down to the pillow, and then leans in to place a soft kiss against Katsuki's lips. The kiss is quick, and so soft that he can barely feel it. But it's still enough to make his heart feel like it's going to burst.

He moves in closer, capturing Izuku’s lips with his own, silently letting him know, hey, I'm not done with you yet. Izuku complies easily, kissing back with more fervor than before. They press closer together until Izuku slots his knee in between Katsuki’s thighs. 

Katsuki shudders at the warmth of the alpha’s thigh brushing against his privates. His lips part, and Izuku's tongue dips inside, quick and hot and wet. They're close enough now that Katsuki can feel Izuku’s hard cock pressing against his bare skin. It's hot, and there's something achingly domestic about it. The casual, unintentional, yet very intimate touches.

Katsuki butes back a moan and hoists his top leg up around Izuku’s hip, pushing himself even closer. 

And then someone's fucking phone rings. 

"Fuck," Katsuki gasps as he pulls back, flustered and worked up from whatever that was. 

"That's mine," Izuku groans. "Who the heck is calling me this early?" 

Katsuki groans and rolls over. Being the closest one to the night stand, he grabs Izuku's phone and squints at the caller ID. 

"Why the hell is my mom calling you?" Katsuki scoffs, though the realization wakes him up in an instant. 

"Ah, I don't know! Should I answer it?" Izuku asks, panic clearly written across his face. 

"Yes! Answer it." Katsuki insists, tossing the phone in his direction. Izuku grimaces, staring at the screen. 

Katsuki watches curiously as Izuku answers the phone.

"G-good morning, hello," he stammers awkwardly. "Um, I'm fine . . . Uh, I wasn't—I mean, I didn't plan to." 

"What does she want?" Katsuki whispers, frustrated by the fact that he can't hear what his mother is saying on the other line. The curiosity is killing him. 

And confusing him. 

On one hand he's mortified that his mother is calling Izuku out of the blue when they're not even actually a couple. But on the other, his omegan side is purring at the idea of his mother loving Izuku so much that she feels comfortable enough to call him directly. 

"Ah, sorry," Izuku mutters, giving Katsuki a worried look. "He didn't tell me about that." 

Fuck. What the fuck.  

Izuku pulls the phone away from his ear and presses the button to put the phone on speaker mode. 

"Katsuki! Why doesn't your mate have a ticket to your game tonight?!" her voice scolds him. Katsuki gawks at the phone and pulls the covers tighter over himself. 

"It's an away game!" he shouts back at the phone. 

"An away game in your hometown! What, did you think we didn't know? That you were just going to waltz into town and not even stop by to pay your parents a visit? Brat!" 

Katsuki frowns, his heart starting to race. He was hoping to avoid this subject with her altogether. But now she gives him no choice. 

"It's not a big deal! I'm not even starting!" He yells. Izuku presses a finger to his lips to remind Katsuki to keep his voice down. Right. Fuck. 

"Well, Katsuki, you know we still want to support you whether you start or not. It's always been that way." 

"I know. I don't want anyone making a big deal out of a stupid game that I don't even start in." Katsuki groans, holding his head in his hands. Fuck. And on top of that, what the hell is his mother going to say when she sees his damn face?! He's fucked. 

"Well, we'll be there. And lucky for you, I know some people in the area and can get Izuku a ticket. Izuku, dear, the train ride is an hour long, but that's nothing. Don't you want to see Katsuki play?"

Her tone changes completely when she addresses Izuku. And it weakens Katsuki's will to say no. How can he when his mother's approval of his mate is so satisfying? 

"He has class, probably," Katsuki swallows, eyes flickering towards Izuku. He's genuinely unsure, given his recent change in schedule. It's not that he hates the idea of Izuku going to his game. However, it is an away game, and he's not about to ask his fake boyfriend to go out of his way for him. He's already done that enough. He's also not sure he could handle it if Izuku had turned him down or claimed that they already spent too much time together. 

"I'm actually free today," Izuku says, warmly and without hesitation. Katsuki stares at him. 

"Oh good! Let me get you that ticket and you see what train you can catch. Oh! Katsuki! Do you have to take the bus back to school with your team? Be a dear and find out for me, okay? If not, you and Izuku just have to come over!" 

Katsuki sighs, and looks to Izuku for guidance. He just shrugs in response. How can he be so laid back about this?

"I'll find out," He says, quietly. As awkward as it may be, it would be nice to have an excuse to get away from his team for a bit. 

"Oh that's wonderful! I'm so excited!" 

She goes on and on about how next time, Katsuki needs to use his damn head and plan things in advance. After another exhausting few minutes, she finally excuses herself and hangs up, leaving the two of them sitting in silence. 

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Katsuki sighs, as Izuku lays back down and scrolls through the other notifications on his phone. 

"I don't mind. It sounds like it might be fun," he smiles. Damn that smile! It's too bright and too kind and Katsuki gets this awful feeling that he doesn't deserve it. 

Why should he deserve it? Izuku had been right—This entire time, Katsuki had been so obsessed with keeping himself comfortable that he hadn't given much thought to how Izuku must have felt. Even though they talked and Katsuki apologized profusely, the guilt still lingers anyway.

"Fine," Katsuki says, after a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with his mother about the whole thing anyway. "If she asks about my face it was an accident, okay?" 

He doesn't really like the uneasy look Izuku gives him. But the alpha still nods and agrees. 

Izuku isn’t sure why he agreed to take a train ride to Katsuki's home town just to watch a hockey game. Of course, when he says it in his head like that it sounds perfectly ordinary. His stomach churns when he thinks about what all of this actually means. 

Especially after the night he and Katsuki just spent together. Holding the omega while he slept just felt so . . . right. Letting him leave in the morning was harder than he'd thought it would be. The strangest part was that Izuku couldn't chalk it up to simply being worried about his mate going back to the people who hurt him. No, it was more than that. 

It was like his heart felt empty when Katsuki suddenly wasn't by his side anymore. 

Izuku groans to himself and slumps back in his seat on the train. He needs a distraction. 

Reluctantly, he pulls his laptop out of his backpack and opens it up. He still has that stupid case study proposal to turn in, and so far he's got nothing. It's embarrassing, really. All he can think of is Shinsou and the way Aizawa had him proudly explain what he was doing for his research. The more Izuku plays it over in his head, the more he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

Shinsou makes it look so easy. Meanwhile, Izuku is too busy giving into any excuse he can possibly use to put off his research. Really, if he doesn't have this in by Friday, what could happen? Could he tell Aizawa that something came up with his mate that he had to deal with? That he was too busy dealing with the fallout of an actual ethical conundrum and couldn't— 

Wait. 

Izuku gasps and immediately begins typing. Why didn't he think of it before?! 

Omegas in Sports: A case study of gender discrimination in university athletics 

The title isn't perfect and it may be a little vague, but it's something, isn't it? His fingers fly across the keyboard as he drafts his proposal. Maybe this train ride was a good idea after all! He'll get it all typed up and sent out to Aizawa and then he won't have to worry about it again until next week. That gives him more time to think about what the actual case study part of the whole thing will be. 

"This is where Katsuki went to high school," Mitsuki says as she slows down to point it out to Izuku. He nods along as he looks at what seems like just an ordinary high school. Ever since picking him up from the train station, all she's done is drive him around town pointing things out. 

"Oh wow," he offers. 

"If only we could get into campus, I'd show you how they still have Katsuki's picture up on the wall in the main hallway. They're so proud of him." 

Izuku swallows and nods, remembering everything that Katsuki had told him about his former teammates. 

He'd gone from being supported and respected and loved to being treated like crap. It makes Izuku even sadder to think about. 

"What's the long face for?" she asks, catching on far too easily. 

"Hmm? Nothing, it's nothing," he laughs awkwardly. Mitsuki sighs and shakes her head. 

"Out with it, Izuku. Clearly something's on your mind. I'm a mother, I know these things," she says with a smirk. Izuku wants to laugh because his own mother was never so perceptive. 

But he doesn't say anything about that. Instead, his stomach starts to feel like it's turning inside out with the sudden build up of anxiety.

"If she asks about my face, it was an accident, okay?"

He's supposed to be a good alpha. And his mother cares about Katsuki so much. It feels wrong to lie to her, even if it is Katsuki's wishes. Now that's an ethical conundrum. 

"I just worry about Kacchan sometimes," Izuku says, quietly.

"You and me both, hon," She chuckles. 

His stomach churns again. 

"And I want you to know… before you see him tonight. Ah, he's… he's got two black eyes and he wants me to keep quiet about it and not tell anyone but I'm so angry about it, I don't know what to do!" he says, finding himself surprisingly comfortable with ranting to this woman. She's still practically a stranger, yet she's so familiar with him that she makes him feel like it's okay to be honest. 

"What did he want you to tell me?" she asks, her tone unexpectedly calm. She doesn't sound surprised in the slightest. 

"That it was an accident," Izuku tells her. She takes in a long deep breath and then curses under her breath. 

"Fucking brat," she sighs. "I don't know why he thinks he can't tell me about this sort of shit." 

"He told me that you're really protective of him . . . and that he was afraid you'd make him quit," Izuku explains, his chest still quivering as he speaks. She doesn't sound angry. She doesn't sound surprised either. 

"Of course I am, he's my son and I worry about him constantly," she says, pausing to make another turn down a residential street. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, okay? I know Katsuki's having a hard time at school. I know he's not telling me everything. God, Izuku, you have no idea how relieved I was when I found out about you." 

He inhales sharply at the sudden turn in the conversation back to him. 

"You weren’t mad?" Izuku asks. Mitsuki smiles and shakes her head.  

"Surprised, yes, but still relieved to find out that he isn't alone," she explains. Izuku takes a deep breath, feeling a little more at ease. She doesn't seem upset or angry. "I have no plans to make him quit, or whatever he thinks is going to happen. He's an adult. I have to let him fight his own battles." 

"Yeah," Izuku agrees. "I wish there was a better way for him to chase his dreams." 

"You and me both," she chuckles, and then her expression morphs into something a little more serious. "Is he okay? You said he got hurt, didn't you?" 

"For now," Izuku says. "He came to me about it last night, and I think it took a lot out of him to be so vulnerable with me. . . Um, please don't tell him that you know? I don't want him to worry." 

"I won't say anything," Mitsuki promises. 

Izuku looks out ahead as she pulls into a parking lot. The building they arrive at is tall and painted a bright, corporate-looking blue. 

Bakugou Ice Plex

Izuku blinks before his jaw drops. 

"This is—This is huge!" He gasps, getting out of the car and marveling at the large building. 

"You look surprised." 

"I—Kacchan made it sound like it was some small town skating rink, I didn't know," he says, following her inside. The doors slide open as they approach, inviting him into the facility. Izuku can't remember the last time he's been ice skating. It must have been when he was a kid. 

"He's spoiled! And to be fair, it wasn't always like this. We renovated it a couple of years ago and added a second rink. Come on, let me show you around." 

There's a front desk with screens that show free skate times and hockey practice times and whatnot. Further down is another counter, behind which houses rows and rows of rental skates. The walls have signs that point to other areas of the building, like Pro Shop and Rink 1 and Rink 2.  

"Look at this," Mitsuki smirks, drawing his attention to another wall where a trophy case is embedded. Izuku moves closer to get a better look. The trophies are all shapes and sizes, some  youth hockey participation prizes, and some first place tournaments. All of them are engraved as belonging to the same person: Bakugou Katsuki.

"These are all his?" he asks, his eyes wandering to a photo of what appears to be Katsuki as a child, decked out in hockey gear and holding up a medal. 

"Yep," she grins. "We're very proud of Katsuki here." 

"Yeah, I can see that," he smiles, just as his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out and grins. 

Kacchan: Did you make it yet?

Izuku: yeah.

Izuku: Your mom is showing me around <image.jpg>

He attaches a photo of the trophy case and chuckles to himself. 

Kacchan: holy shit, that's embarrassing!

Izuku: I think it's cute!

Izuku inhales sharply as the message sends. Crap, he's getting too comfortable with this. Eventually, Katsuki will be onto him, especially now that Izuku is aware of it. 

It being how he feels about Katsuki. 

How he's pretty sure he's in love with him. 

Chapter Text

The game is stupid. 

His teammates are stupid. 

They might have had a shot at winning if Coach hadn't decided to fucking bench Katsuki for half the game! It's infuriating and rage-inducing, but it makes him all the more thankful that he doesn't have to ride the bus back to campus with those morons. 

Instead, he gets to meet his parents outside the arena. As soon as she sets her sights on him, his mother greets him with a crushing, squeezing hug and kisses his face. 

"Baby! I'm so proud of you!" she gushes, stepping back and ruffling his hair. He notices the way her eyes scan over his face, faltering for a moment when they notice the bruising between his eyes. But she doesn't say anything about it. Thank fuck. 

"Why? I didn't fucking do anything," he scoffs, earning a quick smack upside his head. "Ow!" 

"Watch your damn mouth, okay?" she hisses. "And I'm proud of you no matter what! You get no say in it! Nope—Don't even try to argue with me! The bit I got to see of you playing today was great, and you know it." 

Katsuki frowns, never knowing whether or not her lectures are supposed to piss him off or make him feel better. 

"I thought you were amazing, too, Kacchan!" 

His heart squeezes in his chest as Izuku addresses him, making himself known. He glances over at the alpha who's awkwardly standing next to Katsuki's dad and waiting for his turn.

"Tch," he scoffs, his cheeks heating up at the compliment. "I need to take a shower." 

"Damn right you do," his mother chuckles, nudging him towards the door. "Let's go home so you can shower, and then dinner!" 

Katsuki nods, and follows them out to the car. As they walk, Izuku walks by his side and laces their fingers together. It's something so small and so casual, but it nearly takes Katsuki's breath away. 

Gotta keep up appearances, right? 

Guilt seeps in through his stomach as he starts to think about it. Izuku's been hanging out with Katsuki’s parents for hours now. Once again, Katsuki's put another burden onto him, and he doesn't deserve the way Izuku so graciously complies. 

He's too good. 

The car ride home is short. His dad talks about the high school team and how their season has been going. Izuku stays silent through most of it, but he doesn't appear to be bothered. His scent doesn't sour, either. It's almost as if he's genuinely enjoying himself, as if he isn't uncomfortable in the slightest. Katsuki wishes he could act the same way, but he can't possibly let himself enjoy something he doesn't deserve.

It doesn't get any better when they get back to their house, either. Izuku just smiles and offers to help Katsuki's parents with dinner. 

"No, hon, we're fine. You go relax and we'll let you know when everything is ready, okay?" She smiles. Fuck, it would break her heart if she knew Izuku wasn't really interested in being Katsuki's mate forever. "And you need to shower before you can sit down at my dinner table, sir." 

"I know!" Katsuki scoffs, turning on his heel and stomping down the hall to his bedroom. It's been at least a few months since he's been in this room. And it looks just the same as when he'd left for UA. 

Except for the suitcase propped against the bed and the jacket strewn over top that so clearly belongs to Izuku. 

"Hey." 

Katsuki jumps as the alpha enters behind him and shuts the door. Fuck. He has to say something. At least fucking apologize or find a way to give him an out—

"I need to talk to you." They both speak at the same time.

"Oh," Katsuki says, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. "Can I go first?" 

Izuki gives him an unreadable look and nods. "Yeah, sure." 

His voice, however, cracks as he speaks. 

Fuck. 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. 

"I can't do this anymore," he admits, just ripping it off like a bandaid. He's hoping Izuku will be relieved. But instead, he gets a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. Shit. "To you, I mean. I want to stay mated, but the fact is that I can't fucking stand the thought of how selfish I've been. You're doing all this shit for me and I feel so god damned guilty all the time. I just—" 

"Hey, hold on a minute," Izuku interrupts. "You're not selfish. I'm here because I want to be, I promise. Everything I've done has been my decision, okay? You don't need to feel bad." 

Katsuki gives him an incredulous look. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is Katsuki just supposed to accept the fact? 

"Why?"

"Why?" Izuku repeats, blinking. Katsuki blinks back tears and turns away. 

"Yeah. Why? Why do everything you've done for me when I've done nothing for you?" he asks, and he hates how melodramatic he sounds. 

"Well," Izuku starts to say, before taking a rather long pause. "I've been thinking about that a lot lately, actually." 

Katsuki freezes. This is it. This is where it all ends and they go back to being strangers. His parents will be disappointed and his teammates will have free reign— 

"I think when it all started I agreed to it because I had a bit of a crush on you," Izuku says. Katsuki blinks. 

"Had," he repeats, his voice just barely above a whisper. He just can't help but notice the way Izuku speaks in the past tense. Like he agreed because maybe he found Katsuki attractive. But now that he knows more about him, he's changed his mind. 

"Yeah," Izuku confirms. Fuck. "I've had a lot of time to think about it today and . . . I keep doing this not because of some silly crush or because it seems like a morally good thing to do." 

"Then why?" Katsuki asks, facing him fully. His eyes sting with tears as he asks, because he has this awful, sinking feeling. 

"I um," he starts to say, then stops to clear his throat. "I think. . . every day that I've seen you since then . . . I've been falling in love with you." 

Oh.

Did Katsuki hear that right? 

"What?" he gasps. Izuku fidgets nervously and laughs. 

"I said . . . I love you," he chokes. He's—Oh, fuck, he's crying. He should do something. Say something. 

But all Katsuki can do is stand there and stare at him in disbelief. He's in love. 

"I don't want to scare you away," Izuku says, honestly. "If you don't feel the same way, I understand. I think I've just finally realized that it's been a while since I've felt like any part of this relationship was an act I had to put on. That everything I do when I'm pretending to be your mate feels far more natural than it should. A-again, if you don't feel that way, I understand. I'll keep putting on a show in public as long as you need it for . . . As far as the other stuff, I think I might need a break from it." 

Katsuki stares, his lips parted in awe as he watches tears drip from Izuku’s eyelashes. They make his eyes shine in a way that makes it hard for Katsuki to avert his gaze. He's trying so hard to hold it together, and Katsuki's just frozen to the spot, his mind a jumbled mess as he desperately tries to process what's happening. Between the beautifully sad-looking alpha in front of him, and the words still echoing in his ears, he’s not sure how to respond. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped this all on you just now,” he swallows, shaking his head like he’s about to backtrack. “Spending all this time with your parents today has just made me realize how badly I wish I wasn’t lying to them.” 

Katsuki licks his lips and nods, still unable to produce any intelligible sounds. 

He knows what he wants to say, but all the defenses he's ever had are up and he can't find a way to push past them. Everything up until this point has been easy because Katsuki could tell himself that he wouldn't get attached. That if something went wrong, he could pull away at any time and there would be nothing to lose. 

Taking that next step would be like admitting that he's been vulnerable to getting hurt this entire time and for some reason, that thought is terrifying.

"I have to take a shower," is all he can manage to say without throwing up. Izuku gives him a heart-wrenchingly wobbly smile and nods. 

"Yeah," he whispers. "Take your time, okay?" 

Katsuki turns and gathers up some clean clothes. Clothes that have been sitting in a drawer since he first left for college. Crumpled and wrinkled but still clean. 

If I tell Izuku I love him, we'll be mated for the rest of our lives. He'll follow me wherever I go and keep supporting me—

Katsuki drops the ruffled clothes into a heap at his feet and turns back to face Izuku, hands shaking. 

"I don't want pups." 

"What?" Izuku blinks. Katsuki swallows. 

"I don't want pups, at least not for a long time. I want to play professional hockey in the US and I'm not willing to put any of that on hold. If—" 

"Hey, hey, Kacchan," Izuku says, his voice soft and reassuring as he catches on to the way Katsuki's voice trembles. He steps closer and uses the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe away a tear from Katsuki's cheek. When did he start crying? Izuku must think he's the biggest fucking crybaby. 

"I'm not the kind of omega who's just gonna settle down," he says, quietly. Maybe that's it. The heart of his deep-seated commitment issues. The fear that Izuku or any other alpha would one day realize they'd rather have an omega who was submissive and domestic. Who's quieter and more well-behaved. 

"I already know all of that," Izuku tells him, a light chuckle escaping his throat despite him still being choked up. 

"And you still . . . love me?" Katsuki says it like it's some foreign concept. It kind of is. 

"Not in spite of all of it, but because of it," Izuku tells him. "I love how strong and independent you are. I love how passionate and committed you are to achieving your goals. I wouldn't want any of that to change." 

Fuck. 

"I don't know what to say," Katsuki admits. Despite having to look down to meet Izuku's eyes, he still feels so small and vulnerable. 

"You don't have to say it back or anything. I know I kind of just jumped into that. But . . . I do want to know if you'd be willing to try. A-as in, try to be in a relationship with me. A real one," he chokes, blinking back even more tears. 

To be fair, putting his feelings for Izuku into words is terrifying. But he knows that he doesn't want to stop doing . . . Whatever it is that they've been doing. Not having the pressure to verbalize how he feels makes it easier to confirm that with himself. 

"Okay," Katsuki whispers. Izuku sniffles a bit and then smiles. 

"Okay? As in—" 

"As in yes, okay, let's do that," Katsuki sputters, his face growing hot. A small whine escapes his throat and he has to take a step back. "I really have to take a shower now." 

"Okay! Sorry!" 

Katsuki clears his throat and scrambles to pick up his clean clothes. Then, he quickly shuts himself in the bathroom and locks the door before Izuku can start talking again. 

He breathes as if he's just finished running a marathon. His throat stings and his heart hammers rapidly in his chest. In disbelief, Katsuki holds his hand against his chest, trying to calm the pounding. Why is he panicking? He's fine. Everything is okay. 

Izuku loves him. 

Does Katsuki love Izuku? 

Fuck. 

He doesn't know. 

While Katsuki is in the shower, Izuku texts Shinsou in a panic. 

Izuku: I JUST TOLD HIM I LOVE HIM?!

His heart feels like it's going to explode from his chest as he replays the dramatic conversation in his head. Sure, he meant what he said. He meant every word of it! But holy crap, he didn't mean to say it. 

No wonder Katsuki freaked out! Izuku dropped a freaking bomb on him! 

Incoming Call: Shinsou

Izuku gasps and instantly declines the call. 

Izuku: I can't talk right now he's gonna be back any minute

Shinsou: Damn you're really all or nothing aren't you?? 

Izuku: NOT HELPFUL

Shinsou: 😂

Izuku frowns and sets his phone aside. It's fine. This is fine, isn't it? He got what he wanted—For Katsuki to be in a real relationship with him. And he agreed to it! 

So why does he still feel like he's losing his mind?

Maybe it's the fact that they've gone about this all out of order. What does he do now that he's officially dating the guy whom he's been mated to for the past couple of months? Can they just go into this without anything really changing? It almost sounds too easy. 

He looks up as soon as the bathroom door opens again, revealing Katsuki in his underwear as he allows the steam from his shower to filter out into his bedroom. 

"It's too hot with the door closed," he says, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. 

"It's okay," Izuku chirps. "N-nothing I haven't seen, right?" 

"Right." 

Ah, deja-vu. 

"How was your shower?" Izuku asks. What the heck kind of question is that?! 

"Um, clean?" 

"Good!" 

Ahh! 

Why is this so hard?! 

"You're being weird," Katsuki points out. 

"I'm just nervous, I guess. I've never asked anyone out before," he admits. No harm in being honest. Katsuki pulls a clean shirt over his head and gives him a sly smirk. 

"Is that what happened?" he chuckles. 

"Y-Yes?" 

"Huh. Because it sounded more like a love confession." 

"Same thing, right?" Izuku laughs, even though he's dying inside. 

"Sure," Katsuki smiles. At least he's smiling. He seems less tense than he was before. It puts Izuku at ease to see him feeling more comfortable. "The way I see it, nothing has to change right? We were basically already together." 

"Yeah, that's right," Izuku replies, feeling a bit of the tension release from his shoulders. It's reassuring to hear Katsuki say that. 

He smiles to himself as Katsuki finishes getting dressed. Then, they are able to walk out of his room and join Katsuki's parents in the dining room. 

"Smells like pizza. I thought you were cooking?" Katsuki asks, stretching out before taking his seat at the table. 

"You didn't even invite me to your game, you damn brat, what makes you think you get a home cooked meal?" Mitsuku scoffs, shaking her head as Katsuki snickers to himself. 

"Now, I'd love to get through dinner without any yelling," Katsuki's father laughs, bringing out a box and laying it on the table. He's an even-tempered beta, very different in personality than Katsuki and Mitsuki. 

"Oh stop," Mitsuki says, rolling her eyes. "Your father was just complaining the other day that the house is too quiet without you here." 

"Of course it is," Katsuki smiles, reaching to fill his plate with food. Izuku laughs along with them, his stomach finally bubbling with happiness instead of with anxiety. He likes the Bakugous. They remind him of what he always thought a family should be like. Comfortable. 

They don't ask him a million questions about what he plans on doing with his life. They tell jokes and share stories and laugh. He can't remember the last time he sat at a table to eat a meal with his own mother. 

"Are you going to stop by the rink at all?" Mitsuki asks Katsuki as they work together to put away leftovers after dinner. 

"We gotta head back to campus in the morning," Katsuki responds. Then, his lips curl into a grin as he gets an idea. "Can I have the keys?" 

"To the rink?" Mitsuki scoffs. 

"I don't see why not. As long as you lock up when you're done," Masaru interjects. 

"And don't you fuck up my ice," Mitsuku interjects. Izuku blinks, trying to catch up with the conversation. 

"Are you going to skate?" Izuku asks, surprised. It's late, and he's already had a hockey game. Isn't he tired? 

"Why would I go to the rink and not skate?" He chuckles. "It'll be fun. You know how to skate, don't you?" 

"Um."

"Oh my god, you don't. We're definitely going," he teases, taking the keys just as his dad hands them to him. 

"Wait! I don't have to, I can just watch," Izuku laughs nervously. 

"No, no, no. You can't just marry into a hockey family and not skate," Mitsuki sighs. Izuku grimaces and scrambles to catch up with Katsuki as he's already making his way out the door. 

"And I mean it about the ice! Keep it clean or I swear to god I will run you over with that zamboni myself!" Mitsuki calls from the doorway. Katsuki gets to the car and unlocks the passenger side for Izuku. 

"What's a zamboni?" Izuku asks. 

"Seriously?"

Izuku stares. "It sounds like an Italian pasta dish." 

Katsuki laughs.

Izuku sits up straight as he finally laces up his skates. They squeeze his ankles a little too tight, but they took so long to lace up that he's not about to try on another size. Katsuki is already on the ice, flying around like it's nothing. 

"You ready?" He asks, sliding to a stop right in front of Izuku. 

"No," Izuku admits. "I can't even remember the last time I've been ice skating. I'm gonna embarrass myself." 

"It's okay, falling on your ass is part of learning," he smirks. Izuku frowns. Katsuki steps around the little gate and holds his hand out to Izuku. His knees wobble just from standing up on the blades; he's not even on the ice yet!

"I don't think I can—" 

"Shh, you'll be fine," Katsuki grins, stepping backwards towards the ice. Izuku follows, squeezing onto his omega's hands for support as he steps onto the slippery surface. 

"What the hell, you make this look so easy!" Izuku whines, disappointed with the way his own feet slip and slide beneath him. 

"Because it is easy. Let one foot glide while the other pushes off. If you try to take steps like you're walking, you're gonna fall." His voice is teasing at first, but quickly softens into something more patient and encouraging. 

"Okay." 

"See, there ya go." 

Izuku looks down at his feet and laughs. "I am!" 

"Yeah!" Katsuki cheers, then lets go of Izuku's  hands without warning. With a warbled yelp, Izuku scrambles to the side and grabs hold of the wall before he can fall. 

"What the heck!" 

"You had it!" 

"I did not!"  

"Totally did," Katsuki insists, easily gliding over to where Izuku stands. His feet slip beneath him a bit until Katsuki slides a bit closer and catches him by the waist. 

Izuku's heart skips a beat with Katsuki so close. He looks up at him, only to be met with a kiss. It catches him off guard for a second, but he's quick to lean into it. 

"What was that for?" Izuku smiles as their lips part. 

"Do I have to have a reason?" Katsuki asks, his eyes wide for a moment, reminding Izuku that he's just as new to this real relationship thing as Izuku is. 

"No, I guess not." With that, he pulls Katsuki back in for another. 

The rest of the night is spent the same way—Izuku struggling around the ice and Katsuki determined to get him maneuvering on his own. He falls several times, but he pauses to make out with his mate several times more. They have the rink to themselves and no one to hide from or put on a show for. 

Maybe he doesn't have everything in his life figured out just yet. But he has Katsuki now, really has him. 

And it makes everything seem like it's going to be okay. 

Chapter Text

"Holy shit, you're kidding, " Camie gasps, taking the lid from her coffee cup to let a bit of the steam escape.

She and Katsuki sit across from each other at a small table in a cozy coffee shop right outside of campus. Between both of their busy schedules, Katsuki hasn't seen much of her lately. It's good to catch up with her again, especially since so much had happened with Izuku that he's been meaning to catch her up on.

"Nope," Katsuki sighs, emptying a packet of sugar into his own cup. His lips twitch as he tries to hold back the stupid grin that comes involuntarily. 

"So what are you gonna do?" she asks, expectantly. Katsuki pauses for a moment and then shrugs. 

"What do you mean? I'm gonna be in a relationship? It's really not changing much, actually. We've already been hanging out and fucking."

"Are you going to break your bond?" 

Katsuki hisses and slaps a hand over the mark on his neck protectively, earning a concerned glare from his best friend. It's an instinctual reaction. 

"Why would I?" Katsuki scoffs. 

"I don't know? People usually date first and then decide to mate, not the other way around. I thought maybe you'd want to start over." 

Katsuki wrinkles his nose at the idea. That would be fucking stupid, wouldn't it? The very idea of breaking his bond with Izuku makes him want to crawl out of his own skin. Hell no. No fucking way he's doing that. 

"Can't," Katsuki insists. "I don't know how to explain it other than I feel like I'd rather die than break our bond." 

"Jeez, always so dramatic," Camie teases. "Hey, if you're happy, then I'm happy for you." 

"Thanks," Katsuki sighs, his lips tugging upwards again. Ever since the initial shock of Izuku’s confession had worn off, Katsuki's been on cloud nine. His chest feels warm and light for the first time in forever . It's a welcome change. 

"Aww, look at you," Camie coos, resting her cheek against her hand. 

"What?" 

"You're smitten. It's a good look," She grins, with a wink. "So, does this mean you confessed to him too?"

Katsuki nearly chokes on his drink. He hadn't been planning on discussing . . . that. Isn't it enough that they're together now? Can't he just enjoy that without ruminating about the implications it has on the rest of his fucking life? 

"Not exactly," he says, clearing his throat. He averts his eyes from Camie's scrutinizing gaze. Obviously, she's waiting for an explanation, but Katsuki isn't even sure that he has one. "It's complicated." 

"I thought you said you're in a relationship now? How is that complicated?" She points out, mimicking his mannerisms, blunt as always. Katsuki rolls his eyes. 

"I don't fucking know," he grunts. "It just is. It's not that I don't feel the same way or anything. But in a way it's like…Like it's the last barrier between us and I'm afraid to let it go. It feels too fucking permanent and that's terrifying." 

"Aww." 

"Stop that." 

"Sorry! I get it, I guess," Camie shrugs. Silence falls between the two of them as Katsuki’s ears burn red. Camie looks like she's deep in thought about something, maybe trying to think of the next best thing to say. 

Generally speaking, she's fucking great at knowing what to say. It's part of the reason Katsuki became friends with her so quickly. That, and they had a common love for ice sports. 

"Are you seeing anyone?" Katsuki asks, taking the opportunity to turn the focus of the conversation away from him. 

"Me? Nah," she laughs. Despite not being into girls or other omegas, Katsuki can appreciate the fact that Camie is very attractive. She's pretty and physically fit, and wears a lot of low-cut shirts that show off her cleavage. 

"Their loss," Katsuki shrugs. 

"It's not even that, I'm just so busy, you know? Competition season is brutal," she sighs. Katsuki nods, because even though he doesn't know a lot about figure skating, he knows how demanding of a sport it is. His family's rink has hosted many tournaments and rented ice time to many coaches. "So your parents like him, I take it?" 

"I think they like him more than they like me," he smirks. 

"Wow, things are like, really looking up for you right now." 

Katsuki considers it for a second, his lips twitching as he tries not to smile. She's right. As bad as shit gets with his team, at least the rest of his life is damn near perfect. 

Teaching Shinsou's section is strange for Izuku at first. Even though he stands at the front of the same exact lecture hall, he looks out into a crowd of students who are completely different. They're strangers. Strangers sitting in different seats. 

There's also more of them, which is terrifying. 

"H-hello! My name is Midoriya Izuku, I'm sure you saw Dr. Aizawa’s email, but I'm going to be your new TA for your section." 

All he gets in response is silence. 

"So, utilitarian ethics states that whatever—" he pauses as a student from one of the middle rows raises his hand. "Um, yes? A question before we get started?" 

"Yeah, Shinsou always started class with a video," he says. Izuku blinks and glances backwards at the projector. 

"Well, I don't have a video," Izuku swallows, earning a few disappointed groans. "But that’s okay! We'll still have rich discussions and that's a lot of fun, too!" 

Silence, again.

"Okay, so utilitarian ethics dictates that anything that maximizes pleasure or happiness is considered the most good," he begins. "However, we can challenge that view with a thought experiment." 

Izuku pauses and tries not to acknowledge the groans and sighs from his students. He had thought that by switching classes, maybe he'd be starting fresh, and find out that it was actually his old class that was the problem. And not his shitty teaching or lack of ability to command attention.

"So imagine a monster," he chokes. "Like um, any kind of monster. But this monster has the ability to get 100 times as much good out of things than a regular human could. And the end goal of utilitarianism is to gain the most good for the most people."

"But a limitation of utilitarianism is that it's often black-and-white. So, if you had a hospital where four patients needed transplants in order to survive—" 

Another hand goes up, and Izuku makes the mistake of pausing to answer it. 

"What about the monster?" 

"Monster?" 

"Yeah, you were talking about a monster." 

Ahh, crap!

Scrambling, Izuku turns back to his notes to find that he had left out the rest of the monster experiment. 

"Let's just forget about the monster," Izuku chuckles nervously. He's tanking. This is terrible. Crap! 

"While the monster thought experiment from the book was interesting, I think the hospital patients were actually a better way to illustrate the limitations of utilitarianism." Izuku stares as a student from the second row calls out. His voice is calm and even, no trace of judgment in his tone. He's sitting close enough that Izuku can tell he's an omega. 

"Yes, I agree," Izuku mutters. "So I want to put the monster away for now. Do you—I'm sorry, what is your name?" 

"Todoroki Shouto," he replies. 

"Great! Todoroki! Would you like to share what you remember from the reading?" 

The omega pauses for a moment, and Izuku quickly panics thinking that he's asked too much of him. What if he has anxiety over public speaking? 

"Okay," he finally says, standing up. 

"Oh, you don't have to—" Izuku grimaces as he internally kicks himself for, once again, not being clear enough with his directions. 

"There are four patients at a hospital, all of whom will die if they do not receive life-saving transplant operations. They could all survive if one healthy person sacrificed his or her life to donate said organs for transplant. Utilitarianism states that sacrificing the healthy person to save four lives would be the most good. Though, with context, most people would agree that it would be unethical to end the healthy patient's life." 

And then he sits back down. 

"Well said, thank you very much," Izuku clears his throat. He slightly regrets letting him explain something so much more eloquently, but doesn't let it show. Instead he stumbles through the rest of the lecture, and is finally able to breathe again when it's all over. 

He sits down as students file out of the lecture hall, his heart still racing. There has to be some sort of trick or secret to this whole teaching thing. Hopefully, once Izuku gets his Phd, He can be like Aizawa and never give another lecture. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Midoriya." 

Izuku looks up to see Todoroki, flanked by another omega with bright red hair. What do they need? To file a complaint about his lecture? Just great. 

"Yes?" Izuku asks, eyes flickering to the papers they both hold. 

"We have a tournament next weekend and need to miss class next Friday. These forms are to excuse us, and confirm that we won't be penalized for missing class," he explains, before handing him the papers. 

"Is this new?" Izuku asks, scanning over the page. "I thought the coaches just emailed us to say that we need to excuse you." 

He's seen them before, even for Kacchan. The emails are always vaguely threatening. Like if he didn't fully accommodate their schedule, he'd be smited immediately.

"Yeah, maybe for the collegiate teams," the redhead laughs. "I think you're legally required to worship them." 

"Oh," Izuku says, unsure of how to respond. 

"You're not," Todoroki scoffs. "Sorry, that wasn't very tactful. This is Kirishima, you can ignore him."  

"No need to apologize. So, ah, what team is this for?" 

"Club Hockey," Kirishima answers with a toothy grin. Izuku gasps. 

"Oh! My mate plays hockey," Izuku grins, his stomach fluttering at the way he can just say that. And it's not even a lie anymore! 

"Huh, who on the team is mated?" Kirishima puzzles, trying to figure out who Izuku could possibly be talking about. Maybe Katsuki isn't on their club team, but they're all omegas who play hockey, right? 

"His name is Bakugou Katsuki," Izuku shares, excitedly. For a second, he really believes that this is going to be the moment where he makes connections with his students. But then he sees the way both of their smiles drop. 

"Yeah, he's not on our team," Todoroki grits. Izuku can feel the coldness dripping from his tone. And he really has no idea why. He's not trying to make any enemies today, so he doesn't bother to argue. Instead, he quickly signs their forms and lets them go on their way. 

As they leave, Izuku replays their interaction in his head over and over again. Did he say something wrong? The two of them seemed so friendly, and then their demeanor suddenly changed when Izuku mentioned Kacchan. Do they know him? Of course they have to know him. Izuku doesn't know a lot about athletics, but he'd think that they'd be proud of Katsuki or something for making the collegiate team. 

It's very strange. 

Once everyone leaves the lecture hall, Izuku packs up his stuff and slings his bag over his shoulder. He's exhausted. Not because he's done so much, but because his sudden schedule change is really throwing him for a loop. If anything, he's been sleeping great. Ever since they got back from Kacchan's parents' house, he's been sleeping over every night. 

Tired, Izuku trudges his way upstairs to Aizawa’s office. His stomach is in knots, and he almost wishes those omegas had stuck around longer and wasted more of his time. You know, to put off facing Aizawa and hearing about how much he hates his proposal. 

He pushes the door open tentatively. 

"Come in," Dr. Aizawa sighs. Izuku straightens up and enters the office space, closing the door behind him. "Have a seat." 

Izuku gulps and sits down across from him. "So um, about my proposal, what can I do to make it acceptable? I mean, maybe I'm just not really understanding the assignment—" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"The—My proposal, sir." 

"Your proposal was great, I was shocked," he chuckles. Izuku isn't sure whether he should jump for joy or be horribly offended.

"Really?!" 

"Yeah, it's relevant, definitely something you could look at through an ethical lens. What are your thoughts so far? Plans?" 

Izuku scrambles for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He really didn't expect to have his proposal accepted so quickly. 

"Ah, well, I was thinking to compare certain ideologies to utilitarian concepts, and then refute them," he says. It's mostly jumbled nonsense that he hasn't actually sorted out yet, but Aizawa is nodding along like he buys it. 

"And your methods? This is a case study." 

"Yes, um," he swallows. "Student interviews. I'm sure there's a press release or documents somewhere from when omegas were allowed to join teams . . . I was planning on synthesizing my findings. And . . . that's where I'm at so far." 

He holds his breath and watches as Aizawa jots down a few notes and nods. 

"Sounds good. Don't miss the next check in." 

"Thank you so much!" he laughs, standing up. 

"Thank yourself for finally getting your head out of your ass," he smirks. "Oh, and if you're doing student interviews, make sure they sign the right paperwork. Shinsou knows where to find it. They can get extra credit for participating." 

"Oh, okay." 

"Ah, but I have to ask that you don't interview your mate. Can't give him extra credit." 

Right. His mate whom he hasn't told about his research yet. To be fair, he did assume that he'd be rejected right off the bat. So there's that. 

But now that it's been approved, he's actually going to go through with it. And it would be unethical to purposely leave Kacchan in the dark about his research. 

Agh! 

He'll just tell him. He wouldn't be mad about something like that, right? It's not like Izuku is researching Kacchan's life specifically. Really, he's just researching an issue that Kacchan just happens to be close to. Yeah.

After his meeting with Aizawa, Izuku heads to his office to finish his own coursework for the day. As he steps in, he sees that Shinsou is already slumped in front of his desk. 

"Hey," Izuku says, closing the door to the shared space behind him. 

"Hey yourself," Shinsou grins. "How'd it go with the new sections today?" 

"Ah, pretty much the same," he sighs. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I think everyone just hates me automatically." 

"Okay, that's ridiculous," Shinsou laughs. "Well, if it helps . . . some of your former students have said that you were too stiff and serious. All you did was lecture." 

"Is that not what I'm supposed to do?" Izuku scoffs. How can they be mad about him lecturing when they're literally sitting in a lecture hall?

"You gotta try and make it fun," Shinsou shrugs. "Like make it memorable. Be approachable. Pull the stick out of your ass." 

"Hey!" 

"I'm only teasing!" 

"Yeah, well, that stuff just doesn't come easily to me," Izuku sighs, that hopeless feeling returning.

"Do you enjoy it, though?" Shinsou asks, pivoting a bit with his question. Izuku frowns, staring down at the top of his desk, idly running his fingers across the worn edges.

"I love philosophy, obviously," Izuku mumbles, unsure of how to answer. Deep down he knows, but he isn't ready to admit it. 

"No, I meant teaching. Do you love teaching?" He clarifies, cornering him once again. He's frighteningly good at figuring Izuku out. They've been friends since undergrad, and Izuku doesn't know anyone else in the world who knows him better than Shinsou does. 

"I…I don't," he says, his throat dry. "But don't try and tell me I should be doing something else, okay? I've just—I've hit a bit of a slump. That's it. It's just a slump, I'll get through it." 

Later that evening, Izuku stops by Kacchan's dorm so that they can walk back to his apartment. The stress from the day quickly melts away as Kacchan bursts through the doors, bundled in his team coat and matching beanie. He looks adorable decked out in all the UA gear he has. 

"Is that your entire wardrobe?" Izuku asks, a smile playing on his lips. 

"What?" Kacchan scoffs and looks down at what he's wearing. "The fuck's wrong with my wardrobe?" 

"Nothing! I've just noticed you only wear team stuff." 

"Well, I've noticed that you only wear nerd stuff." 

"Hey!" Izuku laughs. "Not what I meant! I think it's cute!" 

God, he's such a sap, he should be embarrassed! But ever since admitting his feelings, it's as if the floodgates have been opened. And now he can't keep his damn mouth shut any time it comes to Kacchan. 

"Shut up," he mumbles, bashful. "And I get this shit for free, why wouldn't I wear it?" 

"Oh, I didn't know that." For a moment, his thoughts wander back to the end of his lecture from the day. Todoroki and Kirishima were on that club team, but they didn't wear any sort of logo-clad outfits. Is it a team pride thing? Or do they really just not get the same spoils as Kacchan's team does? 

The difference between the two of them is intriguing, and there's this itch Izuku feels to get started on his research. 

"So guess what," Izuku starts to say, ready to announce to his mate the topic of his research. Kacchan reaches for his hand, so that they can hold onto each other as they walk. 

"Hmm?"

"I—" His words fall flat for some reason, that excited itch turning to uncertainty. They've been having such a good time together lately. If Izuku were to tell him and upset him, it could really ruin the mood.

So it can wait. It's fine. He'll tell him later!

"What?" 

"I had my first lecture with my new section today," He supplies, flashing Kacchan a bright smile, without missing another beat. Thankfully, he doesn't seem suspicious in the slightest. 

"Yeah? Your roommate was our new lecturer today," Kacchan says. "It was interesting." 

"Interesting?! Were you not sleeping through it?" Izuku laughs. 

"Uh . . . No?" Kacchan shrugs. "Look, I don't know what to tell you." 

Izuku scoffs, pretending to be annoyed. But it's okay. He's at least accepted the fact that Shinsou is much more skilled at teaching than he is. 

And Izuku is okay with that. 

At least he thinks he is.

Chapter Text

Katsuki's head throbs as he leans back against his locker. He keeps his distance from the group crowded around their coach as he runs over logistics for their next game. After their stupid loss last game without putting Katsuki in, he doesn’t even want to hear the conversation. All he can think about is devising a plan to make it so Coach has no choice but to start him. 

“Bakugou!” 

He startles momentarily and looks up. His first instinct is to put his defenses up, ready to argue whatever gets thrown his way. 

“Yeah?” he mutters. 

 “Right wing,” he says, with a begrudging sigh. “Score us some points, and I’ll consider keeping you in as a starter for the rest of the season.” 

Katsuki freezes, trying not to show any shred of emotion as all eyes turn to him. He wants to celebrate. But he also wants to argue that he almost always scores points. Hell, he’s the highest scorer on their entire damn team! 

“Thank you, Coach,” is all he says, though. He swears he hears one of the alphas next to him mutter something under his breath, but pretends not to hear it. Coach moves on to the next position on his roster, then closes out his speech. 

With that, Katsuki moves to exit the locker room, having already been packed up and ready to go. He doesn’t want to spend another damn minute in this place if he doesn’t have to. 

“What, are you sucking Coach’s dick, too?” Yoarashi snickers, blocking his exit. He was so close to making it out, too. 

“No. Move,” Katsuki groans, tired. All he wants to fucking do is go home, change, and then spend the night at Izuku’s apartment. 

“What? You’re fucking your teachers, why would we believe you aren’t doing the same? Fucking typical omega, using your body to get your way,” he grits, and Katsuki’s blood boils. How can this jackass be so fucking ignorant?! 

“I’m not fucking my teachers. I’m starting because I’m good at hockey, so fuck off,” Katsuki snaps back. He knows that fighting back never works, but he’s so on edge around his teammates that he never knows how to hold back. It’s that fear response forcing him to fight back, even though he should be running away. 

And, just as he should have suspected, Inasa shoves him hard, causing him to stumble backwards. His duffle bag swings, and the awkward weight drags him down to the floor. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, angrily. When he tries to sit up again, he’s met with someone else’s foot against his shoulder kicking him back down. “What the—Fuck, stop! Don’t!” 

He freezes this time, panic surging through him as he realizes that Yoarashi's approaching him while holding his penis in Katsuki’s direction. 

“Inasa, what the fuck,” someone else chimes in, thankfully. 

“Shut the fuck up. If he’s so hungry for cock, he can suck mine, too,” he laughs. As if any of this is funny. 

“I—I have a mate, dammit, I don’t want your shitty dick,” Katsuki screams, scrambling to get up and get away. But arms grab at him and feet kick him as Inasa continues to rub his hand over his stupid, ugly member. Katsuki’s lips tremble as it moves closer to his face, and he tears his head away from it, avoiding even looking at it. 

“Inasa, careful, he’s really mated, remember,” Shishikura reminds him. 

“I know, I’m not gonna fuck him. We’re just playing around,” Inasa smirks, thrusting himself forward. Katsuki feels sick as his tip brushes against his cheek. Tears spring to his eyes and panic rips through him, leaving him panting and sobbing uncontrollably. 

“Holy fuck,” someone says. “Inasa stop, this is too fucking far, man.” 

He doesn’t see who it is that gets Inasa to stop, or what gets the others to back off. But he still can’t calm himself down, so he’s stuck laying on the stupid locker room floor. Why can’t he move? Why can’t he just fucking get up and run? Fuck.  

He’s not sure how much time passes before he finally sits up. At that point, the locker room has cleared out, and his entire body feels numb. If the other teammates hadn’t been there . . . if Yoarashi had somehow managed to catch him alone . . . there’s no telling what would have happened. 

Aching, he eventually picks himself up and walks back to his dorm. He showers and scrubs at his face until it burns. It still isn’t enough to get rid of that phantom feeling of Yoarashi's— Fuck. That really fucking happened. 

Fresh tears roll down his cheeks. 

When he finally gives up, he exits the bathroom and scoops up his phone from his pillow. 

Izuku: Are you done with practice yet? 

Izuku: What time are you coming over? 

Katsuki stares at the messages and takes a deep, shaky breath. As much as he wants the comfort of his alpha, there’s no way he can face Izuku right now. 

Katsuki: Practice was tough, and I’m really tired. I’m just gonna crash in my dorm tonight. 

Izuku: Oh. Everything okay?

No! Everything is fucking awful. 

Katsuki: Yep! I’m starting again! 

Izuku: Great! I love you! 

Katsuki's lips twitch, and he feels that hollow pang of guilt in his chest as he realizes that he had promised to be honest with Izuku. But he just can't bring himself to talk about it. He feels gross. And not only that; what if Izuku is mad that he touched another alpha's—

Fuck. 

He puts the phone away and pulls the covers back up over his head. 

Izuku is excited about his thesis project. It’s all coming together really nicely, and Todoroki and Kirishima have both agreed to talk to him about their experiences in exchange for extra credit. They decide to meet in the library after class one day. He has everything ready to go, and is relieved once he sees the two of them enter and approach his table. 

“Hi! Thank you so much again for talking to me, this is so helpful,” he beams, sitting back down just as they do. 

“Of course! It’s an important topic,” Kirishima grins. “What do you want to know?” 

“Well, first, I have these questionnaires for you to fill out. Just return them on your own time when you’re able. It’s just a bunch of likert scales to gauge how much you’ve been affected by certain things given your participation in sports as an omega,” Izuku explains, allowing them to both look over the surveys. They both shrug and nod, seemingly unsurprised by the questions listed. 

“You said you wanted to talk about our anecdotal experiences, right?” Todoroki asks. 

“Yes. Now, we’ll talk, and you can fill out the survey later,” he suggests. 

“No problem,” Kirishima grins. 

“When I was a third year in high school, I was raped by my hockey coach in a locker room after practice,” Todoroki says. Izuku stares, floored by the brutally honest admission. He’d been expecting maybe unfair treatment here and there or micro aggressions. Not . . . Not rape.  

“Oh my god,” Izuku whispers. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” 

“Don’t be. I don’t need sympathy. I need people to know that these are things that regularly happen to omegas who dare try to infiltrate spaces that previously weren’t made with them in mind,” he explains. 

Izuku feels uneasy, his mind immediately flashing Kacchan, and how he’s always around other alphas on his hockey team. That’s . . . That hasn’t happened to him, has it? He’d tell Izuku if he had, right? Crap. 

“And, it’s okay if I note this as an anecdote?” Izuku asks, swallowing nervously. 

“Yes, absolutely. Actually, I would prefer it if you do,” Todoroki insists. 

“Shouto’s all about being open about this kind of thing. It helps to let others know they aren’t alone. We can’t do what we love without relying on each other for support, you know?” Kirishima adds. “I’ve never really had an experience quite as bad as Shouto’s but, we get called names all the time. People think we’re worse at hockey because we’re on the omega club team, that kind of thing.” 

“Have you considered going out for the collegiate team?” Izuku asks, and earns something just shy of a snort from both of them. 

“Absolutely not,” Todoroki says. 

“We were warned that that team only accepts alphas, so I didn’t even try,” Kirishima says, which is concerning. “That technically they say omegas are legally allowed to try out, but it’s not for us, you know?” 

“But Kacchan . . .,” he trails off, confused. “Is that why you guys don’t like him? Because he made that team?” 

Todoroki groans and turns to Kirishima, indicating that he should take that question. 

“Um, look, I don’t wanna disrespect your mate or anything, but it’s not that,” he mumbles, searching for better words. “He’s just kind of . . . “

“He’s an asshole,” Todoroki finally supplies. Instincts tell Izuku to defend Kacchan’s honor and tell them they’re wrong. So wrong! But he resists. 

“Kacchan? No way!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Kirishima laughs uncomfortably. “We tried talking to him on like, the first day of the semester because we worried about him being on that team. But he just laughed us off and told us that he could handle it because he was stronger than we were.” 

“Oh,” Izuku says, grimacing as he acknowledges that it does sound like something Katsuki would say. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“Don’t apologize for him,” Todoroki insists.

“Sorry,” Izuku grumbles. 

“Anyway, some of the upperclassmen said there was a rumor that when they first announced they would allow omegas, that they were supposed to hold an open try out,” he explains. “Usually it’s by invitation, and since then, they’d only invite like, one omega out of obligation. But an open try out would have allowed everyone to get a fair shot at being on the team, regardless of secondary gender.” 

“And it never happened?” Izuku asks, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he desperately tries to keep up with his notes. 

“Not that I know of," Todoroki shrugs. 

"What's this all for again?" Kirishima inquires. 

"A case study for my Ph.D.," he explains, sparing them the boring details. 

"Why not ask your mate? Surely he has some great stories to share," Todoroki suggests, a slight edge to his tone. Izuku pauses for a moment, trying to think of a reasonable explanation. For the most part, it's because Kacchan doesn't want anyone to know. He trusts Izuku with his information. 

"It's a conflict of interest," he says. "If I wrote about my significant other it would seem biased and ruin my credibility." 

"Fair." 

"And you guys are already giving me so much great information. I mean—Not great information. Helpful? Ahh." 

"I get what you mean. It's an important topic to me for obvious reasons," Todoroki nods. "And I hate to say it, but I think people might actually listen to our stories if they're told by an alpha." 

Izuku frowns, unsure of how to feel about that. He's glad he can help, of course. But he still feels terrible and wishes it didn't have to be that way. 

"Is this anonymous?" Todoroki asks. 

"It can be if you would like it to." 

The conversation goes on like that. The two of them share more details from their perspectives and Izuku takes pages upon pages of notes. 

Though he can't help the looming sense of dread he feels as he listens. If these are the stories they're sharing—Kacchan had implied before that he was almost sexually assaulted. He knows for sure that Kacchan's been physically assaulted, due to the double black eyes from a few weeks ago. 

There has to be something that can be done, right? Kacchan shouldn't have to be risking his life in order to follow his dream. No alpha or beta would ever be expected to endure that. 

The next time Izuku sees Kacchan is a couple of days later. It worries him, but he also tries to remind himself that he may be studying for his other classes. Maybe spending so much time with Izuku has distracted him from his school work. He doesn't want that. 

But there's a game that Izuku is attending, a home game where Kacchan gets to start. (He knows now that that's a good thing!) He has to be at the stadium early, but opts to spend time with Izuku. 

It's nice to see him, but he can tell something isn't right. 

Kacchan doesn't say much. He just lays between Izuku’s legs and buries his face into his chest as if he needs to be comforted or reassured that Izuku is still there. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Izuku asks softly, brushing his fingers through his mate's hair. Kacchan nods against him. 

"I'm just tired," he says, quietly. "Maybe it's the bond. We've spent too much time apart. Sorry." 

Izuku purses his lips, but doesn't argue. Even though it doesn't really track. Before they became official, they didn't sleep in the same bed every night and were fine. Is he getting close to heat or something? Would it be disrespectful to ask? 

"It's almost time for you to go," Izuku reminds him. He doesn't like the way that Katsuki visibly tenses at the reminder. Isn't he excited about starting? 

With a hefty sigh, Katsuki sits up again and looks over at the clock on Izuku's night stand. 

"Fuck," he mumbles. He stretches and then sits up, leaving Izuku feeling much lighter. Not that he minds much, but Kacchan is heavy. 

"Do you want me to go with you?" Izuku offers. It wouldn't be too crazy. Plenty of people get to the games early to watch the teams practice. Usually, Izuku doesn't. But the way that Kacchan looks at him with pleading eyes tells him everything he needs to know. "Okay." 

"I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to. But—"

"Kacchan, it's okay," He promises. "Just . . . talk to me when you can, okay? I can tell something's bothering you and it makes me worried." 

For a moment Kacchan looks uncharacteristically small and sad. 

"Not yet," he swallows. Izuku nods, even though his mind is running wild with worst case scenarios and what not. What if they—Like what happened to Todoroki? 

Crap.  

Hopefully it isn't that. 

They leave the apartment and catch a shuttle bus to the arena where the hockey games are held. Kacchan makes small talk about how he's starting, and that he has to score points or else he'll be shifted again. It's a lot to stress about for him, so maybe that has his mind occupied as well? 

Katsuki feels like his entire body is on fire when he's near his team. He's on the absolute edge at all times and it's exhausting. Degrading. Humiliating. 

It's not the best look to have Izuku in the stands watching them practice. For some, it might send the message that he can’t fend for himself. That he needs his alpha there to protect him. 

Practice is nerve wracking, but nothing really happens. The other team has the other side of the ice. It's a normal game.

So why the fuck doesn't he feel normal? 

Why the hell does he feel like he needs to scream? 

As the refs signal the end of practice, he makes his way to the edge of the ice. But not before an alpha from the other team skates by just a little too close to him. 

"Bitch." 

He goes rigid. Eyes darting to catch the number of the jersey as he makes his way back to the bench. Number 23. Fuck him. 

The opening ceremonies are a blur. His blood boils and his mind replays that slur in his head over and over again. 

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch—

"Don't fuck up, Bakugou," Yoarashi mutters to him just before he's ready to climb over the wall and back onto the ice. 

He tries to shake it off but that stupid lump in his throat is already growing. What the hell is he supposed to do? He needs to fucking concentrate or else he'll lose his starting position. 

The first whistle blows and he's grateful that he can just throw himself into the game. He can put all his building anger into his speed and force and concentration. That's what he usually does anyway. How he always gets through practice. 

The other team is tough. Their defense is strong and all of Katsuki's shots in the first period get blocked. But for now he's safe because no one else has even gotten that close. 

Even though it might be the wise thing to do, Coach doesn't take him out of the game. He keeps playing, even as that fucking asshole Number 23 takes the ice. He'll show him. He'll fucking prove himself. 

He maneuvers past him on the ice and intercepts a pass from one of his own teammates. Just as he turns to make the shot, Number 23 comes up in front of him, checking him right in the chest with his stick. 

It's an illegal move. He knows the whistle is blowing to get the jerk to the penalty box. It would have been a great opportunity for a power play. 

But despite knowing that, Katsuki can't stop himself from retaliating. 

Before he can think better of it, he throws his stick to the side and punches the guy as hard as he can. He slides back, crashing against the plexiglass wall, and Katsuki grabs him by the jersey. 

"Fucking crazy bitch!" 

"Fuck you!" Katsuki shouts, rage clouding his vision. Time rushes by, yet somehow seems to slow down.

He barely notices the officials as they rush over to break up the fight. But once it happens, the dread sets in when he has to face his own consequences. 

<<Match Penalty - Number 17 of the Home Team will be ejected for the remainder of the game for misconduct >>

The words echo in his ears and rattle his bones. His heart sinks into his stomach as he's escorted off the ice. Both teams are forced into a time-out as Katsuki heads back to the locker room. 

Hot tears sting his eyes as he begins to wrap his head around what just happened. He fought another player, which is explicitly against collegiate game rules. Ejection means he can't finish the game and if he can't finish the game, he can't score. 

If he doesn't score . . . he's fucked.

He's alone, but not for long. He nearly jumps out of his skin as the locker room door blows open and crashes back against the wall. 

"What the hell was that?!" His coach shouts, his voice angry and reverberating throughout the empty locker room. 

"He was targeting me, I—" 

"Bullshit! No fucking excuses! He got you with a high stick! Why the fuck would you hit him? You're better than this shit." He seems exasperated. As if Katsuko being ejected meant that their chances of winning were absolutely squandered. 

"Sorry, Coach," is all he can think of to say. 

"I have to figure this out, for now, you need to hang up your damn jersey and get out of my sight!" 

With that he storms back out. Katsuki chokes back a sob as the sounds of the crowd cheering flood the room. The sounds of hia favorite game moving on without him. 

He takes off his skates and packs everything up as fast as he can. Just as he's ready, his phone starts to ring. 

Incoming Call- Izuku

Still distraught, he answers. "Hello?" 

"Kacchan," Izuku breathes over the phone. He sounds concerned. Relieved. Something. 

Either way, it reminds Katsuki that he saw the whole damn thing. His mate. There's no getting around the truth this time. 

Chapter Text

It all happened so fast. 

Izuku didn't even realize what was going on until Kacchan was already being escorted off the ice. Ejected? Does that mean he's out for the rest of the game? 

Izuku doesn't know much about hockey, but he always had the assumption that fighting was just part of the game. Apparently it's very much against the rules, at least at the college level. What the heck happened down there? 

"That's why you can't trust omegas. They're too unpredictable with their emotions." 

Izuku scowls at the person behind him who utters those grotesquely ignorant words. He wants to say something, but he can't think of anything that wouldn't also put himself at risk for getting into a fist fight. Besides, he has more important things to do. He doesn’t have to think too much longer before he makes the decision to abandon his seat and exit the arena. 

The lobby just outside is empty, echoing with the muffled shouts and cheers from the rest of the crowd willfully moving on from the incident. No one else seems to understand the severity of what just happened. That the only omega on the team was just carted off for snapping at another player. Nevermind the fact that said omega is one of the most skilled players on the team and happens to only be a freshman. Someone with that level of prestige doesn’t just snap without a good reason. 

Then again, it’s entirely possible that Izuku is biased. He knows the way Katsuki’s been treated. He’s heard the stories of the other omegas who stay away from the alphas on the team like they’re plague-ridden. It’s all wrong and terrible and why doesn’t anyone else do anything about it?! 

His heart pounds in his chest, angry at the world. Angrier than he’s felt in a long time. When he pulls out his phone to call Kacchan, his fingers are shaking, and he nearly misses the right buttons he needs to press. 

“Hello?” Kacchan’s voice sounds so strained and sad and it breaks Izuku’s heart. Something happened. Something definitely happened. 

“Kacchan,” he breathes, relieved that he’s picking up. Who knows what he would have done if he’d been left to stress and wonder where his mate was or what would be happening to him. “Kacchan, what happened?” 

“I don’t know what came over me,” he says, sadly. Izuku can tell by his voice that he’s crying. He knows from experience. “He was calling me names during practice and when he got me with his stick I just lost it—I’m screwed.” 

“What’s going to happen? It’s just this game, right?” Izuku asks, scrambling for the right thing to say. What would be the most reassuring and the least patronizing? It’s hard to decipher between the two tones when he’s feeling so on edge himself. Kacchan’s explanation is confusing in a way. Knowing him, name-calling seems like nothing in comparison to what he probably puts up with from his own teammates. 

Then again, Kacchan has seemed so out of it the past few days. So down on himself. Maybe this was just the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. His breaking point. 

“I don’t know,” he chokes. Izuku wishes he could reach through the phone and wrap him in a tight hug. 

“Where are you? Can I come see you?” Izuku asks, breathlessly. Kacchan pauses for a minute, hesitating to answer. 

“The locker room,” he replies. “I don’t think you’re allowed in here, though. I have to get changed and then I’m going to wait in the hall. Coach is really fucking pissed at me. Don’t know what my punishment is yet.” 

Izuku groans internally. He feels like a sitting duck just waiting around for news. 

“Well, I’m out in the lobby. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

“You’re not gonna watch the game?”  

“No,” Izuku sighs. “It’s not that exciting for me without my favorite player.” 

Kacchan goes silent again, and for a moment Izuku is afraid he’s said the wrong thing. Would Kacchan prefer it if he goes back into the stadium and watches the rest of the game? Should he just leave entirely? He hates not knowing what to do, especially knowing his mate is so upset. 

“I love you.”

Izuku freezes, unsure if he had heard him correctly. Kacchan has never said those words to him, at least not out loud. Normally, he’d panic and scramble to make sure Kacchan was absolutely sure. But the part of Izuku’s brain that wants to love and protect his sad omega takes over. 

“I love you, too, Kacchan,” he says instead, opting for the more reassuring route. He’s not sure why Kacchan needed to say it now, but he doesn’t really need to know, does he? Kacchan loves him. Kacchan needs him. 

And Izuku will be there, he’ll make sure of it. 

—

Katsuki sits on the couch outside of the locker room with his feet pulled to his chest and his equipment stacked in the space next to him. The crowd gets louder as the opposing team scores, and it just adds insult to injury. They were all counting on Katsuki to score, to help them win the game. 

Realistically, they shouldn’t be relying on Katsuki to score. Their skill gaps shouldn’t be so wide that Katsuki is the only one capable of carrying the team. And maybe it really isn’t that way, but knows for a fact that everyone will blame him for their loss regardless. That maybe if he wasn’t such an emotional bitch that he’d have been able to keep his cool and not get ejected for something as stupid as fighting. 

The sirens blare to signal the end of the game, and Katsuki pulls his hood tighter over his face, bracing himself for the sea of alphas getting ready to pass him as they enter the locker room. In a perfect world, his coach would have stopped by to deliver his consequences before the game was over so he didn’t have to face anyone. 

But of course Katsuki wouldn’t be so lucky. 

“There he is, fuckin’ Match Penalty,” someone scoffs as soon as they spot Katsuki. He scowls and refuses to acknowledge them, as well as the other barrage of names and insults. They’re clearly pissed; upset that they lost and blaming Katsuki as predicted. 

“Bakugou. My office. Now,” Coach’s voice breaks through the noise of the crowd, inviting a bunch of juvenile “Ooohs” and “Aww”s. 

His heart threatens to burst out of his chest with how hard it’s beating. Quickly, and with shaking arms, he gathers his things and follows Coach down the hall and into his office. He shuts the door behind them and drops himself into the seat behind his desk. “Sit.”  

Katsuki gulps and takes the seat across from him, his stomach churning as he considers all the possibilities. Probably a suspension of some sorts, right? 

“You know we take penalties like this very seriously, don’t you?” Coach begins. Katsuki nods. “What the hell made you think something like that was okay?” 

“I didn’t think it was okay, like I said, he targeted me and I panicked,” he explained. 

“Why would he be targeting you?”

Katsuki deadpans, wishing he didn’t have to say it out loud. It sounds like he’s whining and complaining, and he knows from experience that his coach won’t be sympathetic. 

“Because I’m an omega,” he says, his voice barely audible. 

“You can’t just blame everything on that,” he scoffs. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but keeps his mouth shut. If he has any hopes of lessening his sentence, that’s his only choice. “Anyway, fighting is a punishable offense. If you can get through one month on the club team without any infractions, then you’ll be allowed back on the team.” 

Katsuki nods, as his words take a few minutes to fully sink in. 

“Wait, what?!” He scoffs, standing up. All thoughts of remaining quiet and reserved are out the window. “The club team? I made this team. I deserve to be here, I earned my spot!” 

“Did you hear me or not? One more month and you can come back,” he says, as if that makes it any better. A month is a long time for one season. 

“But that’s a whole month! I’ll fall behind and then by that time, the season will almost be over and I won’t have a chance to catch up!” He exclaims, exasperated. He can’t seriously be doing this, can he? Coach looks up from his computer screen and sighs. 

“Then I suggest you don’t fall behind,” is all he says, completely unaffected by Katsuki’s concerns. “I’ve already made arrangements with their coach. They’ll be expecting you at practice this week. You may leave.” 

“But —”

“I’m done talking about this,” he interjects. “Out of my sight before I add another month.” 

Katsuki swallows back his anger and storms out of the office. 

He can’t do this, can he? Fuck! 

His entire body shakes with anger as tears roll down his cheeks. He tears up the hallway and out the back door away from any of the crowds. Once he’s alone, he crouches down and covers his face and screams.

This isn’t fucking happening! No fucking way! After every damn thing he’s done — Every painful fucking moment he’s endured. For this?! To be brushed aside and demoted at his first slip up? He’d proven himself to be one of the best players on that damn team, but apparently it means nothing! 

He’s never heard of anyone being kicked off the team for one match penalty. But he also doesn’t know enough to push back on it without causing more problems for himself.  

His throat burns from both inhaling so much cold air and crying. But he still sits up and tries his best to collect himself. If he wants to get back to where he was he can't keep letting his emotions take over like this. He's gotta be more careful. He's gotta think. 

It's okay. He'll spend a damn month on the club team. He'll blow them all away and be back on the team he's meant to be on before he knows it!

With another deep breath, he pulls out his phone and calls Izuku. As he presses the phone to his ear, he reminds himself that he'd let a little confession slip. He didn't mean it. Well, he did. But he didn't mean to say it! Shit. 

He hangs up before Izuku can even answer and crouches back down. Why the fuck does this all have to be so difficult?!

The phone rings again, taunting him and reminding him how much of an idiot he is for hanging up in the first place. 

"Hello?" he asks, already knowing who's calling. 

" Kacchan? Where are you? The game is over ," he says, a worried edge to his tone. Katsuki presses his free hand against his cheek, cold fingertips pressing into burning skin and grounding himself for a moment. 

"I'm out back," he rasps, looking around for a landmark to describe his location. "Where are you?" 

"Out front? I don't really know my way around ," he sighs. 

"The library is close by. I'll meet you there," he decides. All he wants to do is get away from the damn stadium. There's no way he'd be able to handle it if someone recognized him as the guy who got ejected from the game. Stupid!

"Ah, right. Okay," Izuku says. He sounds like he's about to end the call, which sends a surge of panic straight through Katsuki's chest. 

"Can you stay on the phone with me until we see each other?" Katsuki asks as he begins to walk towards his destination. The backside of the stadium is dimly lit and it gives off an eerie vibe that Katsuki doesn't want to venture through alone. After the night he's had, he's not sure he could handle another crisis. 

"Of course," He says, warmly. He's so fucking kind and supportive, and for a moment Katsuki entertains the voice in his head that tells him he doesn't deserve someone so good. Maybe he really is losing his damn mind. 

"Are you walking there now?" he asks. 

"Yeah. I think I know where I'm going now. How are you feeling? Did you talk to your coach yet?" he asks, again sounding worried as fuck. Katsuki grimaces, wishing he could do something to get Izuku to stop worrying so much. 

But there's nothing. Especially when Katsuki's in this weird fucking mood. He wants to cry again. But he also wants to scream or punch something or maybe even laugh hysterically. 

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it when I see you," Katsuki grumbles. "It's fucking bullshit, though." 

He mutters and complains as he marches towards the library. The building is dark, aside from an outside lamp that shines directly over Izuku, who’s already there waiting for him. Of fucking course. As soon as he has eyes on the alpha, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. And when he's close enough, he all but collapses into his alpha's arms. 

Something about Izuku makes everything feel normal again. Like Katsuki can finally get a grip on reality and remember that he's a person and he has a purpose. It doesn't make much sense, yet at the same time it's perfectly clear. 

"Hey, I'm glad you're okay," Izuku tells him, softly petting his hair before placing a kiss against his cheek. Katsuki relaxes under the gentle affection his alpha gives, instantly soothed. 

"I'm not, though," he admits, straightening up so they can walk. "Not really."

"What . . . what happened ?" Izuku asks. 

"I told you, that asshole was calling me names and hit me with his stick—"

"No," he says suddenly. He stops in his tracks and turns to Katsuki. And he looks pretty serious. His green eyes are locked onto Katsuki's, his face firm and tight. "Before that." 

Katsuki stares. Before? 

"Wh-what do you mean?" Katsuki swallows. 

"I mean that what you said earlier sounded like something that normally wouldn't bother you. And you seemed really off earlier. Like you were sad or something." The alpha's face softens a little as his eyes flicker over Katsuki's. Your alpha loves you. He cares about you. 

Katsuki knows. He knows how much Izuku cares. How good of a person he is. But it doesn't make it any easier to admit what happened. 

"I don't—" Katsuki starts to say, tearing up again. "Something bad." 

"How bad?" Izuku asks, his voice calm. He doesn't seem upset with Katsuki. Maybe for Katsuki. Almost like he already knows or has an idea. He is very perceptive in that way. 

"Um," he says, not sure how to vocalize what had happened in the locker room that day. "I think everything has just been building and building and I don't  know . . . I snapped. I want to be on this team more than anything, but I'm so fucking tired Izuku! I'm anxious all the time and then I'm exhausted from being anxious all the time. I never know when I go into that damn locker room whether I'm going to be teased or assaulted. Fuck."

"It's a lot," Izuku swallows, his voice wavering like he's trying not to cry. 

"One of the—One of the alphas put his dick on me," he blurts, disgusted just saying the words out loud. He can see the way that Izuku tenses. The way his scent goes sharp. 

"Kacchan," he says, his voice low and dark. "Kacchan, I want to kill him." 

There's something about the way Izuku draws his eyebrows together and clenches his fists. He means well and he's serious. But he's also tiny. And Katsuki can't help but chuckle even through his tears. 

"I'm serious! Are you laughing at me?" 

"No, I'm—I am. I shouldn't laugh. It's fucked up, isn't it?" he sighs, reaching up to wipe away his tears with sleeve. "I feel like I'm losing my mind." 

"You're already under so much pressure, Kacchan. All this other crap doesn't help, I'm sure. I really wish you could tell someone about this stuff, because it's really not okay," Izuku scolds. Katsuki rolls his eyes. "You're not alone, you know?" 

"Tch, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he scoffs. They start walking again, and as they do Izuku reaches for and grabs Katsuki's hand. His hands are warm and nice. 

"I've um . . . I was talking to a couple of the omegas on the club team for a project and they were telling me about things that have happened to them," Izuku says, an oddly guilty look flashing across his eyes. Huh. 

"Why were you talking to those losers?" he scoffs. It's not a nice thing to say, but it also reminds him of his stupid penalty and gets him feeling angry all over again. 

"They aren't losers, Kacchan," he points out. "But the point is, a lot of omegas who play sports have similar experiences to yours. And maybe things would get better if you got together and came forward." 

"Where is this coming from?" Katsuki scoffs, not sure how he feels about Izuku suddenly being all into omega rights and empowerment. Not that he'd want him to be against it, it's just weird. 

"Don't be mad," Izuku says, taking a deep breath. 

"What?" Katsuki asks, stopping again. He has half a mind to just tell Izuku to can it. Like he said earlier—He can't handle another crisis tonight!

"I chose a topic for my case study. We were supposed to choose an ethical dilemma on campus and from talking to you it seemed like this was a really important one," he explains. Katsuki's blood boils, but he also hates the way Izuku’s voice wavers as he speaks. Like he's afraid of Katsuki being mad. Fuck! He shouldn't be afraid to tell him things. 

Even if he did do something stupid. 

"I hate that," Katsuki says, calmly. Izuku's eyes grow wide with worry and Katsuki feels guilty all over again. "As in, I hate that you didn't tell me you were doing that. It feels like you're going behind my back." 

"I know, I'm sorry, I wasn't sure how to bring it up," he admits, lowering his eyes. "And I'm not talking about you in the study at all, I promise! It's just the players in my class who volunteered." 

"Ugh," Katsuki groans. 

"What?" 

"The club team sucks," he mutters

"How do you know?" Izuku asks. Part of Katsuki tells him he should feel jealous of the stupid omegas Izuku's been talking to, even though that's absurd. 

"Because it's for people who aren't good enough to be on the collegiate team," Katsuki asserts, clenching his jaw tight. "Which is why they're making me play with the club team for a month as a punishment." 

"They're—What?! Can they do that?" Izuku asks, incredulous. "That doesn't sound right. There has to be something you can do, it's not fair !" 

"Don't you think I know that?" Katsuki snaps. He doesn't mean to, but the way Izuku talks is stressing him out. "I know you think you're an expert right now because you're doing a project, but I'm the one living this fucking nightmare, okay?!" 

"I know, Kacchan, I know," Izuku says in a small voice. Dammit. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell," he mumbles, just as they arrive at the shuttle stop. They pause their conversation once they're in earshot of other people. 

The bus ride back to Izuku’s apartment is silent, but it at least gives Katsuki time to think. He wishes he could do something. But unless he had cold, hard proof that he was being treated unfairly, no one would ever take him seriously. If he brought anything too subjective to the board, he'd be laughed at and his career would be ruined. 

Once they get back to the comfort of Izuku’s apartment, he starts to speak again. 

"I know you're just trying to help," Katsuki says, quietly. "I just don't think you really understand what's happening."

"I'm trying." 

"I know, I know—Can we just not talk about this tonight?" he pleads. Izuku still has worry written all over his face, but he nods. 

"Yeah," he whispers. 

"I just need a distraction for now," Katsuki swallows. 

Izuku gives him a genuine smile and reaches over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

"I love you," he tells Katsuki, his voice quiet. Katsuki's heart stutters in his chest as he suddenly feels as though he's been hit by a truck. He'd almost forgotten. His throat feels dry as he tries to respond. 

"I love you, too," Katsuki says, simply. The smile that spreads across Izuku’s face is breathtaking. He's so fucking adorable it makes Katsuki want to cry. 

It also gives him hope that maybe this whole thing isn't going to be the end of the world.

Chapter Text

The UA club hockey team practices on the same rink that the collegiate team does. However, they practice late as fuck. Katsuki isn't used to having so much time in his day and then heading to practice after dinner. 

He doesn't even want to fucking go, but he knows he has to if he has any hope of getting back on the team he deserves to be on. 

Out of habit, he pushes open the door to the alpha locker room, and freezes when he realizes the lights are off and not a single person is inside. It stops him in his tracks for a moment before he remembers that he doesn't have to use that locker room because all of his teammates do. He turns in place and takes a few more steps down the hall. There was one time, back when practice first began, that Katsuki had been in the omega locker room. Shortly after, he'd been reamed out by his coach for not "sucking it up" and being with the team. 

It should have been a red flag, but Katsuki was too determined to prove that their bullshit didn't bother him. And look how well that turned out, hmm?

He slips into the locker room quietly, unsure of what to expect. Right away he can hear shouting and laughter coming from one of the aisles. More importantly, he doesn't feel like he's being smothered by the pheromones of pent-up alpha idiots. It's actually kind of a relief. 

Katsuki doesn't bother looking for anyone, or finding who the boisterous voices belong to. He just finds an unoccupied locker in the first row and opens it up. Silently and unbothered, he changes into his practice gear. Once he's done, he closes the locker door and— 

"Hiya!" 

"What the fuck!" His heart nearly jumps into his throat as he stumbles backward. He recoils on instinct, his defenses going up as an omega with crazy looking red hair stares him down. 

"Oops! Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on ya like that," he chuckles. "But anyway, my name's Kirishima. We've met before but you probably don't remember." 

"Uh, no," Katsuki mutters, caught off guard by the guy's enthusiasm. Once he's realized that no one's trying to attack him, he relaxes and grabs his bag. "I'm not here to socialize, I just want to get this over with." 

Kirishima's smile instantly dissipates and for a moment, Katsuki feels guilty. He doesn't want to be rude, but at the same time he is determined to work his way back onto the right team. If he's going to do that, he needs to focus on the game and nothing else. Can't be getting too attached, especially to teammates who aren't even in the same league as him. 

"Whatever you say, man," he shrugs, backing off yet still managing to be calm and friendly about it. 

"I told you not to bother." A second person enters their aisle, this one with his hair half dyed down the middle. Katsuki vaguely remembers this guy being a patronizing jerk. The one who had insinuated he wouldn't be able to handle the collegiate team. 

Well, guess what?! 

He was kind of right. 

But it doesn't make Katsuki feel any better. In fact, it makes him feel like even more of an idiot. He's just not about to admit that out loud. 

Kirishima turns and exits the locker room with the rude guy while Katsuki stares them down. Maybe they're just jealous of Katsuki. They probably wish they were good enough to make the collegiate team like Katsuki was. 

Once he's ready, he exits the locker room and finds his temporary team. He's surprised to find most of them already out in the ice. From what he can see, they’re just skating around and playing some sort of game, nothing too intense or even remotely organized. Everyone wears different jerseys over their pads; as if they don’t have team practice jerseys or anything. Maybe they don’t. As he looks around, he's not quite sure which one is their coach. 

"Hey, I'm looking for your coach," Katsuki says to the first person he can reach. Unfortunately, the closest person to him to answer his question happens to be Kirishima. 

"You mean our coach!" 

"Yeah, whatever." He frowns and clutches his stick just a bit tighter. It’s bizarre walking into this practice. Katsuki should feel confident and superior, right? Instead, he feels like a fucking fish out of water.

"He had to take the night off. It happens sometimes; on these nights we just scrimmage each other and mess around." 

Katsuki wants to scream. How is that supposed to help him keep his skills sharp? 

"You're joking, right?" Katsuki scoffs. "This is a sports team, right? You guys don't take this shit seriously?" 

"Whoa, man, no one said we don't take it seriously. But it's a club. We're not quite as competitive, and anyone can join." 

"Fucking great," he says through gritted teeth, stomping away from Kirishima and towards the ice. This is easily the most asinine punishment they could have possibly given. Angry, he skates out onto the ice and stomps over to the players huddled in the center, clearly talking instead of skating. That two-toned asshole stands in the center of everyone, and immediately goes quiet as soon as Katsuki approaches. 

“Can I help you?” he asks, his tone low and cold. After everything he just dealt with he does not need this guy’s attitude! 

“Yeah, what’s the deal here? Is this practice or fucking social hour?” He growls, challenging. Katsuki knows what a hockey practice should look like. Katsuki knows what it’s like to be competing at a higher level than . . . whatever this is. 

“Well, it’s both, isn’t it? Practice and a chance to hang out and catch up?” Someone pipes up. Katsuki wants to scream. Again. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Clearly his coach is far more sadistic than Katsuki originally thought. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki scoffs. It’s ridiculous.

“Just ignore him,” the asshole says. Katsuki can’t remember his name. Doesn’t matter, anyway. “He’s just mad because he thinks he’s too good to be here.” 

“I know I’m too good to be here,” Katsuki asserts, earning some less than savory glares from the other team mates that surround him. Maybe Katsuki is being too harsh. These people aren’t the ones who punished him. They didn’t force this on him. “No offense, but I’m the number one scorer on the collegiate team.” 

“And yet, here you are.” 

“Listen—” 

“No, you listen. You only just got here, and your arrogance is already astounding.” 

“Tch, whatever,” Katsuki scoffs. The guy stares at him for a moment, his eyes narrowed and judging. Then, he smirks and turns to his teammates. 

“I have an idea,” he says, then turns back to Katsuki. “You and me. One on one. Sudden death.” 

Katsuki snorts at the idea. 

“Your fuckin’ funeral,” Katsuki laughs. 

He feels a light air of confidence building in his chest as one of the other omegas goes over the rules. Katsuki and this guy—Todoroki, apparently—Will start at one end of the ice while someone drops a puck behind the opposite net. At the drop, they’ll both race to the other side, fight for the puck, and the first person to score a goal wins. 

Easy as fuck. 

Katsuki takes his position, grinning as he watches Kirishima zip to the other end of the rink. His heart pumps loudly in his chest as the anticipation rises. He loves these kinds of exercises. Especially loves them at times like this when he can show everyone in the damn rink how amazing he is. 

The puck drops and Katsuki takes off as fast as he can—No going easy just because this guy is—

Katsuki stops himself mid thought as he realizes Todoroki is about to reach the puck at the same time as he is. Buckling down, he lunges for the puck, only for Todoroki to bodycheck him so hard he slams back against the wall. It gives him a moment to steal the puck away and take off, leaving Katsuki to catch up. 

But it’s all over before Katsuki can even blink. He hasn’t even reached him before the sound of his slapshot echoes throughout the empty stadium. 

What the fuck?

Katsuki is dumbfounded—How in the world? Katsuki wasn’t going easy on the guy. Hell, Katsuki knows he’s fast. He’s not even being arrogant, it’s just true! He’s the fastest on the collegiate team, and has the most points scored this season! How the hell did this guy beat him so easily in a fucking game.

It’s embarrassing to say the least. After all that big talk, it only takes one goal to put Katsuki in his place. To show him that maybe he isn’t out of everyone’s league like he thinks he is. 

He turns that thought over and over again in his head throughout the rest of practice. Not because he’s that upset. Maybe his pride is injured, sure. But that’s not what’s got him so shaken. Or confused. The longer practice goes on, the clearer it becomes that the club team isn’t bad by a long shot. Maybe a few players only recently picked up a stick to try out the sport, but for the most part, everyone is really good. Maybe even better than Yoarashi and some of the upperclassmen on the collegiate team. 

To be fair, Katsuki still is the best player. Todoroki may be more skilled, but he isn’t ready to admit that yet. 

“Sure are quiet now,” Todoroki mentions, approaching him in the locker room after practice. Normally, Katsuki would say something snarky about him fucking off or fucking himself or something. 

“Yeah?” Katsuki mutters, pulling his soiled jersey off over his head. On instinct, his stomach lurches, then settles again when he remembers that he’s safe. He doesn’t have to worry about anyone jumping him when he’s changing. 

“Surprising, you were all talk and now?” He stops himself, like he really wants Katsuki to cut him off or argue with him or something. 

“Are you disappointed? Thought you didn’t want me talking, anyway,” he scoffs, slamming his locker door shut. 

“Hmm.” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes, then pauses as another thought crosses his mind. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

“In the locker room?” 

“No, on the club team,” Katsuki insists. He’s being serious; he doesn’t need this guy’s attitude right now when he’s trying to be genuine. “You’re better than most of the assholes on the collegiate team, so how are you not there instead?” 

“I didn’t want to be,” Todoroki says, his snarky grin dissipating immediately. “Some things just aren’t worth what they cost.” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki deflects, even as his fingers start to shake. 

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Todoroki says, firmly. Katsuki opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it again. No. This guy’s a jerk, he doesn’t need to hear Katsuki’s sob story. Chances are, he’ll spill his guts and then Todoroki will laugh at him for being weak. 

“All I want is to get back on that team, so I can reach my own goals, okay? I’m going pro and nothing you say is going to stop me,” he insists, even though his voice wavers. Todoroki sighs, and sits down on the bench while Katsuki stays standing. 

“I think that’s why I hate you so much,” Todoroki sighs. Katsuki groans, but doesn’t get a chance to excuse himself before the guy continues on. “Because no matter what, you’re willing to keep quiet about the things that happen in order to further your own agenda.” 

Katsuki drops his bag, stunned at the audacity this motherfucker has. 

“You don’t know shit,” Katsuki hisses. “You don’t know a fucking thing about what I’ve gone through or what I’ve tried to do about it! I tried talking to the coach, I tried standing up for myself, but they have a damn loophole for every fucking thing and it’s not fair. The fucking system is designed for us to fail and I’m trying to beat it. Trust me.” 

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” Todoroki sighs, seemingly unfazed by Katsuki’s impassioned speech. “I was at the game, you know.” 

Katsuki presses his lips into a firm line. “So?” 

“So, a player as good as you are doesn’t just slip up that easily,” He says, knowingly. Katsuki frowns and furrows his brow. “You know, the real reason I didn’t go out for the collegiate team is because I knew it was for alphas. They say omegas can join, but can they really? Anyway, I was afraid of getting raped again.” 

“Again?” Katsuki gasps, sitting down next to Todoroki. He’s shocked by the admission, yet weirdly relieved. After being so constantly terrified of the same thing happening to him every time he stepped into the locker room . . . He suddenly feels slightly less insane. That his paranoia was actually justified. 

“When I was in high school,” he shrugs. “It was my hockey coach.” 

“That’s fucking . . . awful,” Katsuki struggles to find the words to say. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “I used to be ashamed, and I didn’t tell anyone for a long time. But then I realized that no one is ever going to take our struggles seriously if we try to hide them, or pretend like they’re not there.” 

Suddenly, Katsuki feels weighed down by a sudden wave of guilt. 

“I tried. Every time I mentioned something, it was implied that I just couldn’t handle the rigor of the team because I was an omega. I didn’t want to fucking look weak.” 

“I get it,” Todoroki says, then leaves a long pause before continuing. “What happened?” 

Katsuki hesitates. This jerk just told him that he hates him. But also told him something incredibly personal. He can tell that they have more in common than Katsuki originally thought. He also thinks about how frustrated he had been with Izuku—How the alpha kept trying to help, but at the end of the day, he was never going to truly understand. 

“They . . . They’d attack me,” Katsuki starts. The words don’t come easily at first. But once they’re out, they come pouring. “One of them put their hands on me, and it scared me so much I fucking mated a stranger hoping that an alpha’s scent would throw them off. It worked at first, but they’d still hit me and shit and it never fucking happened when the coach was around. And then . . . One of them tried to force himself on me. I felt so gross and angry and weak . . . and I fuckin’ lost it.” 

Todoroki nods, like he gets it. He knows how much it fucking hurts. “Your mate’s the Philosophy TA, right?” 

Katsuki blinks, his mind taking a moment to catch up and put it together that Todoroki must have been the omega Izuku was talking to. Of fucking course! 

“Yeah,” he swallows. 

“He seems like a good one, at least,” Todoroki offers. Something feral bubbles in his gut at the comment. 

“Yeah, well we're mated for real now, so don't go getting any ideas," he snaps, unintentionally defensive. Todoroki just raises an eyebrow, otherwise unbothered by Katsuki's response and it somehow makes things worse. He considers his reaction for a moment and then groans. "Sorry, instincts—My heat's coming up soon."

"Understandable," he shrugs. 

His response is surprisingly refreshing. Like a breath of fresh fucking air compared to the alphas constantly accusing him of being in heat at the slightest inconvenience. 

"I know it probably sounds stupid to you, but I'm going to get my spot back. I'll play with you guys for this month but I don't plan on sticking around," he explains, making his intentions clear before Todoroki decides to recruit him or some shit. 

"I think you're crazy for even considering going back," Todoroki sighs. "But I get it. And you should definitely check the regulations." 

Katsuki stares. "What?" 

"There's a very explicit set of regulations for the collegiate level," he says. "I know you're not comfortable with rocking the boat, but if you're going to come forward with anything it's best to do something that explicitly contradicts their rules." 

"What are you saying?" Katsuki asks, puzzling.

"The consequence for fighting in a game is a two game suspension," he explains, matter of fact. "I don't know why they thought they could get away with giving you such an obviously unfair punishment. I also think it's insulting that they consider being on our team a punishment." 

"Are you serious?" Katsuki gasps. 

"I wouldn't lie about that." 

"Shit!" He hisses, getting angry at himself all over again. Really, he's been through his entire spectrum of emotions in this one day alone. "I'm such a fucking idiot!"

"No, I think it's fair to assume you can rely on a coach to know the rules and regulations which govern a game that he's supposedly an expert in." 

Katsuki is speechless. It's nearly impossible to keep up with everything going on all at once. 

"Well, fuck, I'm going to look into it," Katsuki assures him. "I knew they just wanted to get rid of me! Fuck! I gotta do something about this, right?" 

Todoroki shrugs. "As long as you still think it's worth it."

—

Izuku is still up to his ears in his research when Kacchan comes storming through the front door to his apartment. He has it all spread out on the dining room table, trying his best to parse the information.

"Well, hello, looks like someone made a copy of the key without telling me," Shinsou remarks sarcastically from the couch. 

"Izuku!" Kacchan barks, ignoring Shinsou's comment. He kicks off his shoes and marches over to where Izuku sits. His face is flushed red, and he looks like he has something he wants to say.

But then he stumbles. 

And his scent reaches Izuku's nose. 

Ahh.

"Shit," Kacchan mumbles, clearly caught off guard by his own physiological reaction. Izuku reacts quickly and rushes to Kacchan's aide. 

"I've got you," he tells his omega, all thoughts of research leaving his mind. Kacchan can tell him what he needs to say later. For now, there's a more important matter to attend to:

His omega in heat.

His mind is immediately clouded by Kacchan's scent. Thankfully this time, he's in the comfort of his own home, and is able to quickly whisk his omega away to his bedroom. 

You know, instead of dismissing an entire lecture hall full of students because he has an erection. 

"Fuckin' snuck up on me again," Kacchan pants as he flops down onto his back on Izuku's bed. 

"It's okay," Izuku assures him. He knows Kacchan can't control it. He's been under a lot of stress, so of course he's irregular! It only makes sense. 

"Gotta talk to you, though," he groans, squirming uncomfortably as Izuku helps him to discard his sweatpants. 

"Let me knot you first and then we can talk," he suggests, dragging his bottom lip in between his teeth. The way Kacchan just lays there, red-faced and bare from the waist down is just so inviting. This, more than anything, gives Izuku that innate conviction that Yes, this omega is mine to devour. 

"O-okay," Kacchan breathes, spreading his legs and inviting Izuku inside. Eager, Izuku frees himself from his own pants and wastes no time lining himself up and pushing into his blushing mate. 

"Oh, Kacchan—Ah," he can't help but moan. Kacchan’s heat just makes him so much tighter than usual. But also more pliant. And warmer. Fuck, Kacchan. 

"Shit, right there," Kacchan moans, his nails digging crescents into Izuku's shoulders. 

Heat sex, as Izuku has learned, is much faster and way messier than regular sex. But it's also more feral, more intense. This wave is over in a matter of minutes, but it still beats his first time by a long shot. 

It's not the only thing that's better this time, though. This time, Izuku gets to curl up with Kacchan and hold onto him for the rest of the night. He'll be there for him through the rest of his heat, making sure his needs are fully satisfied. 

It's certainly a welcome distraction from his research. Hopefully whatever Kacchan has to tell him can wait for the morning.

Chapter Text

When Izuku was in high school, he always had perfect grades. Actually, even before then, he'd always had perfect grades. It was something he took pride in. Academics and book smarts were always his greatest strengths, and excelling in that area always brought him joy. The running joke among his graduating class was that he could talk his way out of anything, making him the ideal partner or group leader for any project.

So why does he feel like he's failing now? 

It's something that's been weighing on his mind since he started his graduate program. Why is it that someone like himself, who's always been smart and good in all academic areas, is suddenly struggling to stay afloat? Maybe he's burnt out. Maybe he's pushed himself to the point where his brain isn't capable of taking in any more information. 

When he originally decided on academia as his career path, it made sense. It felt like the right thing to do. Izuku was good at academics, and logically it would make sense to do what he was good at, rather than choosing a path based on how much money he would make. In fact, for so long, he's been under the assumption that doing so wouldn't be morally sound. 

"Are you awake?" A tired voice pulls Izuku from his ruminations. He takes a deep breath as Kacchan stirs next to him, snaking his arms tighter around his waist. It's enough to bring him back to reality for a moment. 

Kacchan had come over a few hours ago, smelling like heat pheromones. It's already a bit of a blur, but they had sex, showered together, and then went a couple more times before Kacchan finally passed out. 

It was great. A great distraction from all the research Izuku had been working on. But his mind went right back to everything he'd previously been thinking about as soon as Kacchan had fallen asleep. 

"Yeah," he answers, his voice weaker than he means for it to be. 

Kacchan doesn't say anything, but he does prop himself up on one elbow, putting himself in a better position to face Izuku. With his lips pursed, Izuku takes in Kacchan’s image—His muscular shoulders and his bare chest. His studious eyes and soft lips. Whenever he stops to let himself think about the situation for any period of time, Izuku really can’t believe he’s managed to fall for someone like Kacchan. But then again, he never really gave much thought to the kind of person he’d want to mate before meeting Kacchan. 

It’s absolutely wild to think that one person crossing his path has upended his life in such incredible ways. 

“What’s wrong?” Kacchan asks, his voice suddenly laced with concern. Izuku forces a smile. 

“Nothing, it’s fine,” He insists. 

“Bullshit, I can smell you,” he scoffs, and Izuku wrinkles his nose. That’s right; In heat, Kacchan’s senses and instincts are heightened. There’s no hiding anything from his mate. Not that he wants to hide things from him. It’s just that Kacchan has so much on his plate as it is. He doesn’t need to be worrying about Izuku’s existential crisis on top of everything else. 

“Just thinking about stuff. School stuff. You know,” he says, his voice tired. Kacchan is aware of his thesis and the case study, but talking about it still feels strange because he knows his mate isn’t the biggest fan of this sort of stuff. 

“Fuck, that reminds me!” 

Izuku startles as Kacchan sits up in bed suddenly, then reaches for the lamp on the nightstand. 

“What?!” He chokes, sitting up with him. The sudden urgency is alarming, and the brightness is disorienting. 

“I can’t—Fuck, after the club team’s practice, that Todoroki guy was talking to me and he said some shit,” he rambles, getting up and haphazardly putting his clothes back on. 

“What did he say?” He asks, stiffening and ready to defend his mate. Kacchan pauses and flashes him a handsome smirk. 

“Easy, alpha, nothing bad,” he chuckles, taking note of Izuku’s reaction. “Well, not from him, anyway. The guy’s not that bad, I guess.” 

“Right!” 

“Anyway! I gotta find the rule book or whatever,” he grumbles, gesturing vaguely into the air next to him. Izuku puzzles, not sure what he’s even trying to say. The omega is clearly flustered, and his explanations are coming up less than coherent. 

“Rule book?” Izuku questions. 

“Yeah, or whatever it’s called,” he shrugs. “Todoroki says there’s rules and shit about suspensions, and that those fuckers can’t just send me to their team for one  fight. Or at all.” 

“Really?” Izuku asks, his eyes going wide. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and reaches to pull on his underwear. He isn’t quite sure where they’re going or why they feel the need to frantically get themselves together, but it seems like the right thing to do. 

Not only that, but Kacchan’s words somehow spark something within Izuku that he can’t describe. If it’s true that they’re breaking the rules or directly violating something by treating Kacchan unfairly, then that would be huge news. 

“I still have all my stuff out,” Izuku says, opening the bedroom door and rushing into the cramped dining room, where he has books and papers spread out over the table. His laptop is still open, the screen idle. He had almost forgotten that he was in the middle of something when Kacchan barged in earlier. 

The only difference is that now the apartment is silent and empty, signaling to Izuku that Shinsou had probably gone to bed. 

“This is for your paper?” Kacchan asks, hovering over his shoulder as Izuku jabs at his keyboard to wake up his laptop. He grimaces and holds a finger up to his lips. 

“Shinsou’s sleeping,” he says, in a whisper. 

“Whatever,” Kacchan whispers back, rolling his eyes. He watches quietly as Izuku navigates to the university’s athletics page. As he loads the page, he sifts through the stacks of papers, yanking out a packet when he finds the one he’s looking for. He turns and hands it to Kacchan. 

“What’s this?” he grumbles, flipping through it briefly. 

“A negotiated agreement,” Izuku mutters. “From when the university started allowing omegas to join collegiate teams.” 

Kacchan raises an eyebrow. “I’m not reading all this shit.” 

“It’s important, Kacchan,” Izuku sighs. 

“Give me the gist.” 

Izuku bites his tongue. If he’d learned anything from tutoring Kacchan, it’s that he hates reading and getting him to do anything outside of skimming text is like pulling teeth. 

“Basically, there is a whole list of stipulations all collegiate teams were required to meet when this change was enacted. I highlighted a few to examine for my research and it’s . . . Well, it’s actually kind of disturbing how many of them they didn’t meet,” Izuku explains, taking the packet back from Kacchan for a moment so that he can reference the first highlight. “For example, a designated locker room for omegas. Do they have those?” 

Kacchan purses his lips, then shakes his head. “Wait. They do have them. The fucking club team uses them.” 

“So then why were you in the alpha locker room? I can’t imagine you chose that for yourself.” 

“Coach said it was part of being on the team, and if I couldn’t handle it, I could leave,” Kacchan recounts, his face dropping. Well, Izuku hates that. “He meets with the team after games and shit in the locker rooms. If I was in my own room, I’d miss all that information and never get to start.” 

“Loophole,” Izuku scoffs, disgusted. He scrawls a few notes. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m just trying to make sense of it all,” Izuku promises. “I said I wouldn’t write about you. I promise I won’t.” 

“Okay,” Kacchan swallows. 

“You can sit down, you know.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Fine, um,” Izuku clears his throat and moves on to the next bullet. “They were supposed to hold an open tryout for omegas—I know you didn’t try out this way, you were recruited, right? I looked through records from that year, and several other teams had open try-outs in order to make things fair. Baseball, basketball, rugby, volleyball—”

“And?” 

“ And,” Izuku emphasizes. “Those teams ended up restructuring. Players that had previously been on the team ended up cut because the omegas who were able to join proved to be objectively better players than those already on the team. They honored scholarships and all that stuff, so it sucked for those who got cut, but at the end of the day it ensured that everything was equitable and that those who were on the team were the absolute best.”  

“That makes no fuckin’ sense,” Kacchan grunts, frowning as he finally takes the empty chair adjacent to Izuku’s. “Todoroki’s way better than a lot of those shit head alphas on the collegiate teams. Hell, a lot of those guys are. The omegas, I mean.” 

“That’s the point I’m trying to make,” Izuku confirms, scanning through his own notes. “They held a try-out but not a single change was made to the roster afterwards. I find it hard to believe that hockey couldn’t find a single omega capable of making their team before you came along.” 

Kacchan swallows, leaning his elbows against the table as he processes all this information. It’s a lot to take in, especially at four in the morning when neither of them has had much sleep. He watches silently as Kacchan blinks and rubs at his eyes. 

Izuku turns back to his computer screen and double-checks the time. 

“You have class in the morning, don’t you?” Izuku asks, letting his hand slide over Kacchan’s. 

“I’m fine,” he huffs. 

“I mean, you can go back to sleep if you want. It’ll take me a bit to find what I’m looking for. And even if we do find it, it’s not like there’s much we could do about it right away anyway,” he explains. “You can sleep in my bed.” 

“Well, I fuckin’ hope you weren’t about to kick me out,” Kacchan chuckles. 

“I was just—Ah, nevermind. Just get some sleep, okay?” Izuku insists, then gestures to the computer screen. “Unless you’d like to read this yourself?” 

“Shut up,” he groans, and stands up. Got him. “Fine, but take too long, okay?” 

“I won’t,” Izuku says, even though he’s not sure if he can make that promise. He’s fired up now. No way he’s going back to bed any time soon. Kacchan bends over and presses a kiss against the top of his head before trudging back down the hall. Izuku turns and watches him, stunned for a moment. “Hey, Kacchan?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I love you.” 

Kacchan smirks and opens the door. “Love you, too.”

Katsuki is conflicted. 

Maybe deep down, he knows that he isn’t. He knows what to do. He knows what the right thing is, both for himself and for everyone else. 

But there’s this nagging, anxious voice in the corner of his mind telling him that things would be easier if he just went back to keeping his head down and focusing only on hockey. 

“So let’s say, just for fun, that I have a giant pet dragon,” Shinsou says, clapping his hands together as he begins part of his lecture. He has this vibe about him that’s so different from Izuku. While he obviously loves his mate, it’s easy to see the way Izuku always stumbled over his notes or struggled to translate his lectures into plain terms, and how that starkly contrasts with the ease with which Shinsou gives lectures. 

“Does it breathe fire?” Someone calls out. 

“Of course it does, you think I’m gonna have a dragon that doesn’t breathe fire? Come on,” he jokes. “So anyway, this dragon is like, totally terrorizing the neighborhood. Burns down trees, eats cats, the whole shebang. Has never injured a human person.” 

He hoists himself up onto the table in front of the room and stands up, holding his arms out wide like they’re dragon wings. 

“It’s a fucking dragon, okay?” he reiterates. “Well, my neighbors aren’t too happy with my dragon, and they want me to get rid of it. So now, I have a moral dilemma. My dragon is causing harm to others, and from a moral standpoint, a utilitarian standpoint, I should do whatever results in the greatest good for the greatest amount of people.” 

A hand shoots up in the front. That girl who’s always answering questions. 

“So, then, the dinosaur would have to go, if you’re operating under utilitarian views,” she offers. Shinsou shrugs. 

“First of all, it’s a dragon, not a dinosaur. And yes, if you're a strict utilitarian, then sure. Even so, you might be able to argue both sides," Shinsou elaborates. "For example, getting rid of my dragon would be very bad for me. I would be so sad. Not only that, but my dragon doesn't deserve to be put down, right? Not really. And think of how inconvenient that would be." 

Katsuki sighs and leans back in his seat, letting his eyes close for just a moment. 

When he woke up this morning, Izuku was still hunched over his computer, typing and muttering something about being almost done. That's yet another dilemma Katsuki faces—The guilt he carries from Izuku putting in so much effort. He thought that guilt would dissipate knowing that Izuku loves him, that this relationship is more than just Katsuki selfishly demanding Izuku's assistance and companionship. 

The lecture draws to a close, but Katsuki stays seated, unable to move as his classmates begin filing out of the lecture hall. Typically, he waits until any of the hockey players are gone before he leaves to avoid confrontation. But this time, he waits even longer than that, like he's frozen to his spot and can't move. 

"Class is over," Shinsou points out, his voice carrying from the front of the room. Katsuki blinks and stares at him. 

"Yeah," he rasps, finally getting up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He glances over at Shinsou again, who's neatly sliding his books back into his own bag. Katsuki takes a deep breath and makes a decision before he can dwell on it too long. "Can I ask you something?" 

"You just did," he grins, which is something that normally would make Katsuki irrationally angry. 

"Maybe it's not even a question," Katsuki sighs, trying to organize his disheveled thoughts. "Izuku has been up all night researching something for me . . . And I don't even know what I'm going to do with that information once he gets it for me." 

"Ah, yeah," Shinsou sighs knowingly. He leans back against the podium. "Izuku loves researching shit. He's a nerd." 

Katsuki sputters for a moment as he holds back an involuntary laugh. "I know that. But he's always helping me with shit and he's supposed to be working on his thesis thing, right? I should be handling this myself! Fuck." 

Shinsou studies him for a moment, which reminds Katsuki that he really hasn't spoken with the other man much. Just in passing whenever Katsuki spends the night with Izuku. Can he hear them when they fuck? 

"Listen," he sighs. "I don't know all the details, but I can tell you this: Izuku is in love with you. Anything he does for you he does because he wants to. I promise." 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. It does ease his anxiety a little to hear it from someone else. Still, it's hard to shake the rest of his guilt. 

"I think . . . I think the hockey team kicked me. out unfairly, and Izuku is trying to figure out what I can do about it," he explains, without going into too much detail. Shinsou nods along. "But I don't know what I'm supposed to do once I have that confirmation. If I bring it up and get back to the team—They'll fuckin' hate me more than they already did!" 

"Hey, breathe for a minute," he says, his voice calm and non-judging. "Maybe that's the case. The worst case scenario, but still probable, sure. Have you spent just as much time thinking about what could go well?" 

Katsuki pauses. 

"I'll take that as a no," he sighs. "Izuku told me about his project. And from what I gather, this issue is systemic—Beyond what you're experiencing as an individual." 

"Yeah, so?" 

"So, if you have information that could make a positive change, or that would do the most good for the most people, isn't that the morally correct thing to do?" 

"I thought you were against utilitarianism," Katsuki says, surprising even himself by making the connection. Shinsou chuckles. 

"I'm not against it when it makes sense," he shrugs. "Besides, it would benefit you too, wouldn't it?" 

"Unless it backfires and makes everything worse." 

"Wow, you're fun," he chuckles sarcastically. Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Seriously, though. Consider the probabilities. Do you like statistics?"

"No?" 

"Ah, fuck, well here's the thing—The more solid, factual information you have, the more likely you are to have a favorable outcome. I can't tell you what to do either way, but maybe hear what Izuku has to say, and then make your decision." 

Katsuki mulls it over for a second and then nods. It makes sense. He's not sure why it took someone else explaining it for it to make sense, but it makes sense. 

"Does that help?" 

"Yeah, I think it does, actually," Katsuki says. "Thanks." 

"No problem," he grins. "Now maybe you can help me with something." 

Katsuki blinks as he slides off the table and starts walking with him towards the exit. 

"What?" 

"This guy I've been seeing. I'm finally gonna ask him to be my boyfriend, officially," he explains, going on like it's some grandiose event. "I want to make it a super romantic gesture, you know?" 

"Oh," Katsuki says, not sure he's really fit to answer the question. 

"Listen, I know your relationship with Izuku isn't exactly conventional, but in general what do you think would be a romantic gesture?" 

"Food?" Katsuki shrugs. "Doing something he likes? I don't fucking know." 

Shinsou snickers. "Yeah, I guess you guys aren't really the romantic types." 

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" 

He shrugs. "You know, you're just into each other, and that's all there is to it." 

"I guess," he mutters. And he knows that Shinsou isn't trying to offend him. At least he probably isn't trying to. 

But it still gets Katsuki thinking. Maybe that would make everything better, if Katsuki could do something romantic for Izuku. 

Maybe.

At the very least, it would give him something else to think about for a while.

Chapter Text

"Dude, that was awesome!" Kirishima laughs as they skate off the ice. They'd just finished a practice game, scrimmaging each other in short, tournament-style matches. "Makes me wish you were playing with us for real, we could use your skills in the club tournament!" 

"Club tournament?" Katsuki questions. While he would never admit it out loud, he hasn't been entirely hating the club team. Sure, he's capable of bigger and better things. But the guys on the squad are actually pretty cool. 

And Katsuki feels safe around them. 

"Yeah, it's this big thing every year where club teams in the region meet up and face off and whoever wins gets a trophy and a free t-shirt!" 

Katsuki sighs. 

"I mean, it's not like going to nationals or anything. It's not that big," Kirishima backtracks, probably expecting Katsuki to say something rude in response. He's trying to be more mindful, given everything he knows more. 

"Sounds fun," Katsuki interjects. "You guys are good, though. I'm sure you'll win without me." 

"Yeah, you're right," he snickers. They gather their gear and head for the locker room. "You got any plans tonight?" 

Katsuki thinks about it for a moment. He'd wanted to do something with Izuku. Maybe make him a meal or some romantic shit like that as a way to thank him. But he's still debating it because fuck —Why is this shit so hard?!

"Maybe." 

"Yeah? A bunch of us are going to my girlfriend's house after practice if you wanna join," he suggests, and Katsuki frowns. "Listen, you don't have to. But she's an upperclassman and lives off campus. She and her roommates have a lot of space and they're all super friendly." 

"Sounds great," Katsuki mutters. "I just…I don't know. I'm shit at meeting new people." 

"Dude, I can tell," he laughs, slapping Katsuki on the back. For a moment, he tenses, then immediately forces himself to relax when he reminds himself that Kirishima is just being friendly. 

He's not trying to hurt you.

"You good?" 

"Yeah, fine," Katsuki breathes, taken aback by his moment of uncertainty. "So, this party—"

"It's not really a party. Just a bunch of us hanging out," he explains, his eyes studying Katsuki for a moment. "And uh, no single alphas allowed if that's what you're worried about. It's just my girlfriend and…I think Tamaki's boyfriend is an alpha, but that's it. And you can bring yours if you want!" 

Katsuki sighs and nods, not even realizing how much of a relief it is to know that until Kirishima has said it. Feels fucking shitty, honestly. He should be able to do whatever he fucking wants without being afraid of alpha's ganging up on him. 

"Okay," he swallows. "I might not be able to, though. It depends on what Izuku is doing —Not that I need his permission for shit, though. It's not like that—" 

"Dude, I get it," Kirishima laughs, brushing him off. "Seriously. You can be independent and all that and still care about checking in with your partner." 

Katsuki deadpans for a moment. It fucking sucks that every thought he has leads back to his stupid alpha teammates, but it's not his fault! Not really. The damage they caused, the trauma Katsuki experienced…There was so much he tried to push aside, that he never realized how much it was truly affecting him. Just now, he grew defensive with Kirishima for no reason! Except there was a reason, that being all the sexist comments he had to put up with on the other team. It’s all fucking with his damn head. 

"Thanks," Katsuki mumbles, lowering his eyes. 

"How's his paper going, by the way?" 

"Huh?" 

"Your mate is the philosophy professor right? The one who interviewed me and Todoroki?" he questions. Katsuki's cheeks burn red as he nods. 

"Yeah." 

"That's awesome, he seems like a nice dude," Kirishima smiles. 

"He is. Too fuckin’ nice sometimes.”

"Oh?" 

"Not that I don't appreciate it! I love that he does so much but I feel so fucking guilty and I don't know what to do," Katsuki admits, surprising himself with how easily he opens up to the other omega. "His research could easily be taken to the board and could…Could change a lot for us. But I can't bring myself to let him do it." 

"Why can't you do it, then?" 

"Because, I don't know shit about this kind of stuff," he complains as they start walking out of the locker room. "If I trip up and make an ass of myself, I'd never live it down." 

Weird. 

Is that what the real issue has been the entire time? 

"So then let him present it if he's willing?"

"But then I just look like I'm letting my alpha fight my battles." 

"Look," Kirishima sighs, stopping and turning to him once they've exited the building. "I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you you're going to wear yourself out if you're constantly worried about that kind of thing. You know you're independent. Who cares what anyone else assumes? The only way to get them to stop thinking that way is to just not have an alpha. And I'm guessing you don't want that." 

"No," Katsuki chokes. 

"Exactly."

"Fuck," Katsuki chokes. "I'm…I'm gonna talk to him." 

"Good luck, bro! Let me know how it goes!" 

Katsuki watches as he excuses himself and heads off in the opposite direction. He knows what he needs to do, and he decides at that moment that he needs to do it before he can convince himself not to. 

Izuku's head is starting to spin from staring at his computer screen for so many long hours. The pen cap between his teeth squeaks as he chews down. The clock on the wall ticks just a little bit louder than normal. 

"Ugh!" he groans, dropping his head against the kitchen table. This is the first time in a long time that he’s actually felt really good about something he’s working on. Sure, he loves philosophy and literature reviews and all of that. There’s just something about this project that feels different, though. And it’s not like all of his other work matters less or anything—

Fuck, maybe it does. 

This is important, and it’s real and it’s okay to admit that to himself, right? Or does that make him seem pretentious? Gah, there’s no time for another self-deprecating thought spiral! There’s work to do! 

Izuku nearly jumps out of his own skin as his phone starts to ring. As he scrambles to find his phone buried in his mess, papers fly off the table and onto the floor. 

“Ah, crap,” he mutters to himself when he sees the screen. 

Incoming Call - Mom 

“Hello?” he answers, after clearing his throat. 

“Hi Izuku,” she says, her tone neutral and indecipherable. Which, ironically enough, is the tone she uses when something is up. The indecipherable part comes into play still, though, because he can never tell what it’s actually going to be. 

“H-hey mom,” he swallows. “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong? Nothing,” she laughs. Izuku rolls his eyes. “But I just parked outside your building, can you unlock it for me?”

“Can I—What?” he sputters, looking around his tattered apartment with wide eyes. The place is a disaster. Between Shinsou and Izuku both scrambling for finals, upkeep has fallen by the wayside. Not to mention Izuku’s research has been dominating the kitchen table, leaving the couch as the only viable option for meals. 

“I was on this side of town today, and I figured I should stop by and see you! Also, I have a box of your stuff that I’ve been meaning to give to you, but you never come home anymore,” she stops and lets out a long, dramatic sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, Izuku desperately tries to make sense of the sudden predicament he’s now in.

A surprise visit from his mother is always a cause for stress. All she ever does is complain and comment on how awful and small Izuku’s apartment is. She’ll have a damn field day with this mess for sure.

That, and he might have skimmed over the fact that he’s mated in all of their recent phone calls. 

He told himself he would tell her! After the debacle caused by Kacchan’s mother finding out, Izuku told himself he wouldn’t let the same thing happen to him. But then their relationship was complicated… And now it’s definitely a lot less complicated, but holy crap with everything going on he just forgot!