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Katsuki hates the rain. Hates it. Absolutely fucking despises it. It makes his quirk useless, it makes The Cat (Peaches, a name Katsuki disagrees with on principle, thus The Cat) scratch at the balcony door like a fluffy little ball of chaos, and—it makes Shouto text him things like please please please bring me an umbrella i left mine home, and then tack on i love you very much alpha before Katsuki has even had the chance to deny him. Not that he would. But the chance would be nice. The illusion that he still has any power left over himself when it comes to Todoroki Shouto.
He doesn’t. He hasn’t since they were kids too high on adrenaline to notice how fast everything was slipping by. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Whatever is left of Katsuki’s heart, Todoroki Shouto owns.
Thus, the umbrella. Thus, leaving the house in the middle of a downpour. Thus, reaching into the cupboard for one of the sugary snacks Shouto likes because Katsuki knows it’s going to cheer him up when he hands it over along with the umbrella.
you better be grateful, he texts back, even if Shouto always is. Is nothing but, really. It makes Katsuki’s whole body ache, sometimes. When he hands Shouto an extra pillow for his nest when he’s close to a heat, or when he cooks for him, or when he offers to rub his shoulders after a long day of work. Shouto’s eyes always widen like he wasn’t expecting it, then he has this split second of looking unsure, like he doesn’t know if he deserves it or not, and it makes Katsuki wish he could reach inside Shouto’s chest and pull the insecurities, the remnants of those shitty years he spent at home, out one by one.
He can’t.
But he can bring him the umbrella he forgets more often than not. He can do that, and that’s—
Well, it does enough to sate the ridiculous alpha instincts to keep and mate and claim. They’ve talked about it. Mating ceremonies are outdated and unnecessary. Katsuki wants, still. Wants like the fool he is.
i am, Shouto texts, because he always has to make sure Katsuki knows.
Katsuki makes it precisely three steps out the door before starting to curse at the weather. When he’s at his side, Shouto covers his mouth with a gloved hand and calls him an old man. Katsuki yells because he has to, it’s part of the bit, at this point, even if usually all he wants is to tug Shouto’s hand away and look at his smiling face, kiss and nip his way until he reaches Shouto’s scent gland and just—stay there. Settle. Make a home out of Shouto’s body.
God. He wants so much. It’s been years, and he still wants so much. Wants so horribly. Wants to keep Shouto safe, most of all. Wants to protect him from any and every horrible thing to ever exist, wants to be the one Shouto comes to, always. It’s not just an alpha thing. It’s—well. Everything, with Shouto. Every single part of his body wants Shouto to be safe and whole and cared for.
He wants to be the one Shouto comes to even for small, dumb things like forgetting his cat-patterned umbrella. Sexiest Pro Hero of the Year three years in a row with his stupid cat patterned umbrella. Katsuki loves him so, so much.
Shouto’s agency is not that far from their apartment. Shouto’s stuck at this cute little breakfast place right in the middle of the way between their place and the agency. Because Shouto likes to walk home when the weather is nice, and that’s just one of the many things Katsuki has tucked away in his mental Shouto (love of my life) file. Because Shouto doesn’t mind the rain unless it starts pouring enough that you can’t even see. Because Shouto—Shouto needs him, and Katsuki isn’t about to let him down.
It takes ten minutes to get there usually. With the rain, it should take Katsuki closer to twenty. He makes it in thirteen and a half. Even if it’s not a competition. It’s fewer minutes for Shouto to spend alone dripping on the wood floors and looking all wet and defenseless in front of nameless, pathetic alphas, so. Katsuki rushes.
It’s for his own benefit, really.
Shouto smiles when he spots him. That still takes getting used to. Shouto’s face lighting up when Katsuki walks into a room. Any room. Even their living room. Shouto will look up and see Katsuki holding a bowl of popcorn for movie night or taking his shoes off by the door and smile. For no reason. Say, “Welcome home, alpha,” like he has no idea what that does to Katsuki. Or maybe he does, and he’s been ruining Katsuki’s life slowly and on purpose.
Katsuki should ask.
“Here’s your umbrella,” he says instead, pointing the cat-infested thing at Shouto.
“Thank you, alpha.”
Okay. Okay, that has to be on purpose.
“I’m going to bite you if you keep looking at me like that, little omega,” Katsuki says. There’s no real threat behind it. Shouto’s smile only widens. Of course it does. Spoiled omega. Katsuki’s spoiled omega. Katsuki watches him dig his teeth into his bottom lip.
“I mean—I mean, you can. If you want.”
“What?”
“People have—they’ve been asking. They stare when we’re in public together. It’s like—it’s like everyone expects us to be mated already. So. You can do it.”
Katsuki blinks. “I’m not doing shit unless you want it.”
“I don’t—I want you. Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Shouto—,” Katsuki pauses. “Sweetheart, a mating bite is for life. You—you know what people are like to omegas without—”
“I know,” Shouto cuts off. “I know, I just—” Suddenly, he points at his umbrella. “You brought this for me.”
“Course I did,” Katsuki says. “I love you.”
It’s still hard to say it, sometimes. But only because it feels too big for his body to hold. Too vast. Like too much of Shouto has crawled under his skin and settled there.
“Love you too,” Shouto says. “Don’t want you to go anywhere.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Shouto.”
Shouto looks at the floor. His hair is still damp, Katsuki notices. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“I just—I want everything with you, I don’t—I don’t see what a mating bite is going to change.”
Katsuki runs a hand through his hair. Every single instinct in his body has been screaming at him to mate Shouto ever since that day so long ago when Shouto came so close to beating him at the Sports’ Festival. An omega who can hold his own. Someone worthy. It didn’t hurt that Katsuki had vivid dreams about kissing him, too. About licking that slight smell of rain off his skin.
His omega. Katsuki’s. A mating bite isn’t going to change that.
“Shouto,” he says. “I’m still going to bring you your stupid umbrella every time you forget it even if I never mate you.”
Shouto looks up. He looks like he’s never even considered the possibility. “You will?”
Katsuki nods. “Damn right. Try and stop me, little omega.”
“I’m not little.”
“Aren’t you?”
It’s barely noticeable, but Shouto’s face goes red. “Alpha,” he says. “Take me home.”
They walk out hand in hand, Katsuki’s clear plastic umbrella and Shouto’s stupid cats. The rain stops before they make it home. And the best part is—
They have time. For anything. For everything. They have time. Katsuki is going to keep Shouto safe for the rest of his life.