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Kariage slipped into the room after narrowly avoiding his boyfriend’s parents, who were—for some odd reason—home, sitting in the living room watching TV and laughing along to their dumb soap dramas. As he flipped the newly installed latch on the door, locking it with a soft click, he was immediately greeted by his boyfriend’s frowning face. Katsuki sat at his desk, seemingly doing some sort of homework, his scent of warm caramel and spiced vanilla thick in the air around him.
Katsuki looked up, fully prepared to see which one of his parents had the audacity to enter his room after he had specifically told them he wanted to be left alone. He’d had a bad day at school, he had work to do, and he required peace—not in those exact words, and certainly not as calmly, but whatever.
Clearly, peace was a foreign concept in this house. Apparently, they thought they had the right to just barge into his room whenever they pleased. Sure, they paid for the house, but this was his room. His space. His nest.
His normally rich scent of salted caramel, spiced vanilla and cinammon had soured beyond belief, thick with irritation, annoyance, and pure rage. The normally faint, smoky trace of burnt sugar—a lingering reminder of his quirk- was thick and cloying in the air.
Already gearing up for an argument about privacy in his head, complete with separate points for each parent—more for the hag because she was such a cunt—he turned around, shoulders hunched nearly to his ears and eyes narrowed into slits.
Only to be met with his boyfriend’s stupidly handsome face.
Said stupid face which was supposed to be spending the break in the countryside.
To say he was confused would be an understatement.
“...The fuck you doing here?”
The big idiot standing in his doorway pressed a hand dramatically to his heart.
“Oh, babe, you wound me. After I took time outta my day to come see you, those are the first words you say to me?”
Katsuki just rolled his eyes, standing from his desk and sauntering over to his boyfriend. Once he was in front of him, he brought a hand up to Kariage’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Small and brief, but sweet.
“Hey.”
At that, Kariage softened, bringing one hand down to rest on the omega’s hip. He smiled, his onyx eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Hey.”
Katsuki’s scent spiked again, this time pleased. Soft, sweet, and embarrassingly warm. Notes of cinnamon wafted through the air, the smoke toning down.
“Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later next week,” Katsuki demanded, his voice rough and feigning disinterest.
His scent betrayed him immediately.
What had once been thick with anger and irritation shifted into something sweeter, lighter, the change practically radiating from him despite the gruffness of his tone. The pleased scent of omega spread through the room, seeping into Kariage’s skin.
“Yeah, there was a change of plans, so... here I am.”
As he said this, he shrugged off his jacket and threw it towards some random direction. The messy bastard.
“Anyways, I’d much rather spend time with you than listen to all the fossils talk about how much I’ve ‘grown.’”
“‘S why I can’t fucking stand old people. They always wanna act surprised you’re a year older than you were before, even though it’s been a year since they last saw you.”
Kariage just chuckled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his stupidly sexy skinny jeans before turning back to face Katsuki.
“Ain’t that the truth?”
Katsuki muttered something unintelligible under his breath before grabbing Kariage’s hand and dragging him toward the bed.
He pulled open the curtain surrounding his nest and settled himself inside, looking up at his partner expectantly.
Kariage hesitated for a moment.
To his boyfriend, his nest was meant to be the most intimate and vulnerable place in the world. A safe space to escape to—away from all the drama that already overflowed into his hectic daily life—whenever everything became too much.
And Kariage knew Katsuki felt an almost instinctive dread at the thought of anyone seeing his nest, let alone getting close enough to touch it.
It didn’t help that Katsuki was already a reluctant nester. He always felt the need to hide the fact that he nested from other people, lest they view it as a sign of weakness.
Of course, he had his mother to thank for that one.
The mere thought of someone even seeing and touching his nest—or, so help him God, entering it—made him sick to his very core. It made him want to rip his hair straight out of his scalp.
The risk existed with his parents, who barged into his room like they owned the place whenever they saw fit.
And, again, technically, they did.
But that wasn’t the point.
He used to come home to find his mother standing over his nest, looking down at it with an expression of pure disdain and disgust.
As though the very sight of it offended her.
As though something so instinctive and vulnerable about him was something shameful.
Something that needed to be hidden.
“Oi.”
Katsuki’s voice snapped Kariage out of his thoughts.
“You comin’ in or what?”
Kariage blinked, realizing he’d been standing there for longer than he meant to. His eyes flicked down toward the nest again before he finally sighed.
“Yeah, right.” He hesitated, then added more quietly, “Just don’t wanna intrude.”
“Dumbass. If I thought that, I wouldn’t have invited you in.”
There was enough irritation in Katsuki’s voice to make it clear that he wasn’t about to ask twice.
Kariage stepped forward.
He was careful as he lowered himself into the nest, moving slowly so he wouldn’t disturb the carefully arranged blankets and pillows. He settled down beside Katsuki rather than immediately reaching for him, keeping his movements deliberately gentle.
The nest was warm.
Warmer than he’d expected.
It smelled unmistakably of Katsuki—warm caramel and spiced vanilla, with faint notes of cinnamon woven through it. The scent clung to the blankets, soaked into the pillows, surrounded them completely.
Kariage found himself breathing a little deeper.
Beside him, Katsuki shifted.
The sharpness in his scent softened almost imperceptibly, the tension that had been lingering beneath it slowly fading. Kariage felt the effect almost immediately. His own shoulders loosened, the tightness in his chest easing beneath the steady warmth of Katsuki’s pheromones.
Then Katsuki moved closer.
Without a word, he rested his head against Kariage’s chest.
Kariage froze for half a second.
Not because he minded.
Quite the opposite.
The small gesture carried more weight than Katsuki probably realized. For someone so guarded, allowing another person into something this private—letting them close enough to feel his breathing, close enough to share the warmth of his nest—was its own kind of trust.
Kariage carefully relaxed beneath him.
He was welcome here.
The realization settled somewhere warm in his chest.
“Hmm,” Kariage sighed, finally allowing himself to sink into the nest.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
There was only the quiet rustling of blankets and Katsuki’s steady breathing against his chest. Kariage let his fingers rest loosely against the blanket near Katsuki’s shoulder, resisting the urge to fidget or do anything that might disturb the moment.
The tension slowly drained from both of them.
“Kari.”
“Yes, princess?”
Katsuki lifted his head just enough to glare at him.
The faint flush spreading across his cheeks ruined the effect somewhat.
“Don’t fuckin’—” He paused, jaw tightening as he searched for the words. “Take off your scent patches. You smell all neutral ’n’ shit. ’S makin’ me—”
He stopped himself.
His face darkened.
“I just don’t like it.”
Kariage’s mouth twitched.
“Aww, babe. Just say you like my scent. It’s not a big deal.”
Katsuki huffed and looked away.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
Still grinning, Kariage reached up and peeled the scent patches from his neck. He tossed them toward the nearby bin without bothering to look.
They missed by a large margin.
The patches landed somewhere beside it.
Katsuki glanced at them.
Normally, he would have bitched at him for making a mess.
Right now, though, he was far too comfortable to bother.
Maybe later.
Instead, he took a slow breath.
Kariage’s natural scent immediately filled the space between them.
Warm cedarwood and amber, with hints of black tea and bergamot, softened by a subtle smoky sweetness that clung to his skin like lingering campfire smoke.
It mingled with the caramel and vanilla already saturating the nest.
Katsuki’s body relaxed almost instantly.
His shoulders dropped.
The tension that had been wound through his muscles finally began to unravel, leaving behind a warmth that settled deep beneath his skin.
He took another breath.
Better.
“Better?”
Katsuki closed his eyes again, settling comfortably against Kariage.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“Yeah. ’S whatever.”
Kariage smiled.
He didn’t tease him again.
For once, he seemed to understand that pushing his luck would ruin the moment.
Instead, he settled deeper into the nest, letting his back sink against the pillows behind him. Katsuki remained tucked against his chest, his cheek resting comfortably against the fabric of Kariage’s shirt.
The difference was almost ridiculous.
Just a few minutes ago, Katsuki had been tense enough to snap at him for breathing wrong. Now, with Kariage’s scent surrounding him, the rigid line of his shoulders had disappeared completely.
Kariage looked down at him.
The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his mouth.
“Comfy?”
Katsuki’s eyes remained closed.
“Shut up.”
“That’s a yes, then.”
“It’s a shut up.”
Kariage chuckled under his breath.
His fingers brushed absentmindedly over the blanket beside Katsuki, careful not to touch him without permission. He could feel the warmth of Katsuki through the layers between them, could hear the slow rhythm of his breathing.
The nest smelled different now.
Katsuki’s scent still saturated the blankets—rich salted caramel and vanilla bean, cinnamon warming the sweetness beneath a faint, smoky trace of burnt sugar. Kariage’s own scent had begun to mingle with it, cedarwood and amber blending with black tea and bergamot, that subtle smoky sweetness from his quirk lingering beneath it all.
It was strangely pleasant.
Comfortable.
Like neither scent was trying to overpower the other.
Katsuki shifted closer.
Just barely.
But Kariage noticed.
His smile softened.
“You know,” he murmured, “I think I like your nest.”
Katsuki cracked one eye open.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“But don’t get all smug about it.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“You were.”
“I absolutely was.”
Kariage snorted.
For a moment, the room fell quiet again.
Then Katsuki's fingers curled loosely into the fabric of Kariage’s shirt.
Not gripping.
Not holding him there.
Just resting.
Kariage looked down at the hand before glancing back at Katsuki.
He said nothing.
Neither did Katsuki.
And somehow, that silence felt more intimate than anything either of them could have said.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
The quiet wasn't awkward. It was the comfortable kind, the sort that settled naturally around them when neither felt any particular need to fill it.
Katsuki remained tucked against Kariage's side, his cheek resting against his chest. Every now and then, he shifted slightly, searching for a more comfortable position before settling again. Kariage didn't complain. He seemed perfectly content to let Katsuki use him as a pillow, one hand resting loosely against his back.
The warmth of his palm seeped through Katsuki's shirt.
Katsuki's eyes drifted lazily across his nest.
Everything was where it was supposed to be.
The blankets were folded over one another neatly near the foot of the mattress. The pillows were arranged in their usual order, the softer ones toward the back and the firmer ones where he preferred to rest his head. His favorite hoodie was tucked beneath one corner of the blanket, exactly where he'd left it earlier.
His gaze stopped on the floor.
Kariage's shoes were there.
Katsuki stared at them.
They'd been kicked off without a second thought, one lying neatly beside the other only because Kariage had apparently managed to land them that way by accident.
His jacket was worse.
It had been tossed over the edge of one of the cushions, half on the floor and half on the nest.
Katsuki's eyebrow twitched.
"You know you can put your shit somewhere."
Kariage looked down.
"My shit?"
"Your jacket."
"Oh."
Kariage glanced at it as though he'd only just realized it existed.
Then he looked back at Katsuki.
"I was comfortable."
"That's not an excuse."
"It is if I'm comfortable."
"No, it isn't."
Kariage hummed thoughtfully.
"You're very strict about your nest."
"It's my nest."
"Exactly."
"So stop touching things."
"I didn't touch anything."
"Your jacket is touching it."
Kariage looked at the jacket again.
"That's a pretty serious accusation."
Katsuki lifted his head enough to glare at him.
"Don't be a dumbass."
A grin pulled at Kariage's mouth.
"There he is."
Katsuki rolled his eyes and dropped his head back onto his chest.
Kariage was quiet for a moment.
Then, "You know, you're probably the only person I know who'd actually notice where a blanket was supposed to be."
"I notice because you don't."
"I notice."
"You left your shoes in the hallway last time."
"I knew where they were."
"They were in the kitchen."
Kariage paused.
"...I knew where they were."
Katsuki snorted.
"Well hey, you've got a big house. You can afford to lose shit."
"That's not how that works."
"Pretty sure it is."
"It's definitely not."
Katsuki's mouth twitched.
He'd been to Kariage's house enough times to know exactly what it looked like.
It was almost the opposite of this one.
There were always voices somewhere.
Someone calling for Kariage from another room. Someone laughing downstairs. Doors opening and closing. Footsteps running through the hallway. Arguments that never seemed to last more than five minutes before somebody started laughing again.
His family took up space.
They were loud about it, too.
Katsuki had seen Kariage's siblings steal food from his plate, watched someone yell at him for leaving his laundry in the wrong place, listened to his parents ask how school was going before immediately getting distracted by something else.
And somehow, underneath all of it, there was always the same unmistakable feeling.
Kariage belonged there.
Katsuki had never needed to ask.
It was in the way people greeted him when he walked through the door. In the way someone always seemed to know where Kariage was. In the way his mother had once yelled at him from downstairs to stop hiding in his room and come eat before his food got cold.
Katsuki had found it strange the first few times.
Not unpleasant.
Just strange.
He hadn't grown up with that.
His own house could stay silent for days.
Sometimes weeks.
His parents came and went whenever they felt like it, leaving him alone with an empty house and no indication of when they'd return. Their absences had become so normal that Katsuki barely thought about them anymore.
The rare occasions when they were actually home were worse.
So he'd learned early how to make the house feel like his.
He kept his things exactly where he wanted them. He cleaned because nobody else was going to. He organized because there was nobody else around to do it. He learned which parts of the house he could claim as his own and which ones were better left alone.
The nest had become the most important of those places.
It was his.
Only his.
No one else decided what belonged there.
Kariage shifted slightly beneath him.
"You've got that look."
Katsuki frowned.
"What look?"
"The one where you're thinking too hard."
"I'm always thinking."
"Yeah, but usually you're thinking about how much you hate me."
"I don't have to think about that."
Kariage laughed.
The sound vibrated beneath Katsuki's cheek.
He hated how much he liked that.
"You're annoying."
"And yet you invited me into your nest."
"Don't start."
"I wasn't starting anything."
"You were."
"I was making an observation."
"Make another one and I'll kick you out."
Kariage's hand moved slowly up his back, stopping between his shoulder blades.
"Would you really?"
Katsuki didn't answer immediately.
His fingers curled slightly into Kariage's shirt.
"No."
The answer came out quieter than he'd intended.
Kariage didn't tease him for it.
That, more than anything, made Katsuki relax.
Instead, Kariage simply settled deeper into the blankets.
"Good."
Katsuki closed his eyes again.
A few seconds passed.
Then Kariage's hand moved.
He reached behind Katsuki for one of the pillows.
Katsuki's eyes snapped open.
"Don't.”
Kariage freezes.
He looked at the pillow.
Then at Katsuki.
"I was just moving it."
"I know."
"Because it's under my elbow."
"Then move your elbow."
Kariage stared at him.
Katsuki stared back.
"You're serious."
"Yes."
"It's a pillow."
"It's where I put it."
Kariage slowly returned his hand to his side.
"Okay."
Katsuki watched him for another second before relaxing.
He wasn't angry.
Not really.
It was just—
His nest was one of the few things he didn't have to compromise on.
No one rearranged it.
No one decided what belonged where.
No one stood over it and told him it was disgusting or pointless or childish.
It stayed exactly the way he wanted it.
And Kariage, apparently, understood that.
Katsuki's expression softens slightly. “Don't touch shit without asking.”
“Okay.”
No argument. No teasing.
Just okay.
And somehow, that makes Katsuki feel worse.
Because he'd expected him to laugh. Or complain. Or ask why he was being so fucking difficult.
Instead, Kariage simply moved his hand away.
Doesnt even know why he would think such a thing. Kariage never treated him the way he should be treated, instead he treated him like he was something worth holding onto, someone worth loving.
Katsuki stared at him for a moment before muttering, “...You can move that. But only that”
Kariage just smiled. “Yeah?”
“Don't make it weird.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
"You're weird," Kariage murmured.
Katsuki scoffed.
"Says the guy who threw his jacket on my nest."
"I said I was comfortable."
"You're lucky I like you."
There was a pause.
Katsuki realized what he'd said.
His face immediately heated.
Kariage's smile became unbearable.
"Oh?"
"Shut up."
"You like me?"
“We’re literally courting.”
“Yes, but you like me?”
"You're about to get kicked out."
Kariage laughed, tightening his arm around him.
"Okay, okay."
Katsuki grumbled something under his breath and shoved his face farther into Kariage's chest.
He could feel Kariage still smiling.
Then, after a moment, Kariage spoke again.
"Does that mean I get something?"
Katsuki lifted his head.
"Get what?"
"A reward."
"For what?"
"For being invited into your very exclusive, extremely organized nest."
Katsuki stared at him.
"You're an idiot."
"Probably."
"You don't get rewards for doing what you're told."
"That's not very romantic."
"Didn't say I was romantic."
Kariage tilted his head.
"No?"
"No."
"That's a shame."
Katsuki narrowed his eyes.
"What are you fishing for?"
"A kiss."
The answer was so casual that it took Katsuki a second to process it.
His ears went red.
"No."
Kariage's grin widened.
"Just one."
"No."
"On the cheek."
"Still no."
"Forehead?"
"No."
"Hand?"
"That's even worse."
Kariage laughed.
Katsuki shoved at his shoulder, but there wasn't any real force behind it.
"Quit being annoying."
"I'm asking nicely."
"You're begging."
"I can beg."
"I know."
"Would that work?"
"No."
Kariage leaned a little closer.
Katsuki immediately went still.
The teasing smile on Kariage's face softened.
He didn't close the distance.
He just waited.
That somehow made Katsuki's heart beat harder.
"...You're really annoying."
"I've heard."
Katsuki glanced at his mouth before quickly looking away.
Kariage noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His voice dropped.
"You don't have to."
Katsuki swallowed.
For a moment, he considered just cursing him out.
Instead, he grabbed the front of Kariage's shirt and pulled him down.
The kiss was brief.
Barely more than a press of lips.
But it was enough to make Kariage go completely quiet.
Katsuki pulled back almost immediately, his face burning.
"There."
Kariage stared at him.
Katsuki's embarrassment rapidly turned into irritation.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then stop looking at me."
"I'm just surprised."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't think you'd actually do it."
Katsuki scowled.
"You asked."
"I know."
"Then shut up."
Kariage's smile returned, softer this time.
"Yes, princess."
Katsuki groaned and dropped his face against his chest again.
But Kariage could feel the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He wrapped his arm around Katsuki, pulling him comfortably back against his side.
Neither of them mentioned the kiss again.
Not for a while, anyway.
And Katsuki decided that was probably for the best.
Katsuki stayed where he was, face half-hidden against Kariage's chest.
The embarrassment from the kiss had mostly settled, though the tips of his ears were still warm.
Kariage didn't say anything about it.
For once.
His fingers just continued moving lazily along Katsuki's back, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his shirt. The motion was soothing enough that Katsuki's shoulders gradually loosened again.
"You've got a good hand for this," Katsuki muttered.
Kariage glanced down.
"For what?"
"That."
He shifted slightly beneath Kariage's hand.
"The back thing."
"Oh."
Kariage's mouth curved.
"So you like it."
"Didn't say that."
"You basically did."
"Idiot."
Kariage chuckled but kept his hand where it was.
The room settled into silence again.
Outside, the faint sound of a car passing along the street disappeared almost as quickly as it came. The house itself remained completely still. Katsuki stared at the blankets.
"You can spend the night if you like." he muttered
Kariage raised an eyebrow.
"You sure?"
He felt katsuki shrug against him, "My parents are leaving again tonight."
The words were tossed out so casually that Kariage almost missed them.
"Again?"
"Yeah? They've got some trip or whatever."
He didn't sound bothered.
If anything, he sounded mildly inconvenienced by having to remember.
Kariage's hand slowed against his back.
"Tonight?"
"Mm."
Katsuki reached over and adjusted the corner of his blanket where it had folded inward.
"They said they'd be gone for a couple weeks."
Kariage looked at him.
A couple weeks.
The words sat strangely in the room.
For Katsuki, apparently, they were nothing.
Just another departure.
Another stretch of empty rooms and quiet mornings. Another period where he wouldn't have to listen for footsteps outside his bedroom or wonder which version of his parents would come through the front door.
Kariage knew better than to ask whether Katsuki was okay.
The question felt almost insulting.
Instead, he asked, "You gonna be here alone?"
Katsuki glanced at him.
"Obviously."
"You say that like it's normal."
"It is normal."
Kariage's jaw tightened slightly.
He knew that.
He'd known for a while.
He'd been to this house enough times to notice the difference between when Katsuki's parents were around and when they weren't. He'd noticed the strange tension that settled over Katsuki whenever they were home. He'd noticed how different Katsuki seemed when the house was empty.
Quieter.
Not happier, exactly.
Just able to breathe.
Kariage didn't comment on any of that.
Instead, he reached for the blanket that Katsuki had been fussing with and carefully straightened the edge.
"There."
Katsuki looked down.
It was almost perfectly aligned.
He looked at Kariage.
"You're learning."
"I'm a fast learner."
"Don't get cocky."
"Too late."
Katsuki huffed a quiet laugh.
Kariage smiled.
Then, after a moment, he asked, "So what are you gonna do while they're gone?"
"Same shit I always do."
"Which is?"
"School. Training. Eat. Sleep."
"Sounds thrilling."
"It is."
"You're a terrible conversationalist."
"And yet here you are."
"Good point."
Katsuki settled against him again.
Neither of them spoke for a little while.
Then Kariage said quietly, "You could come over."
Katsuki's eyes opened.
"What?"
"My house."
"I've been there."
"I know."
"Like, a lot."
"I know that too."
Kariage shrugged.
"You could come again."
Katsuki stared at him.
"My family's probably gonna be loud."
"They're always loud."
"Exactly."
"And?"
Katsuki's mouth twitched.
"Your little sisters are annoying."
"They like you."
"That's their problem."
"They'll be happy to see you."
Katsuki looked away.
He didn't answer.
Kariage didn't push.
His hand simply returned to Katsuki's back, slow and steady.
After a moment, Katsuki muttered, "Maybe."
Kariage smiled.
"Maybe?"
"Don't make it a thing."
"I won't."
"And don't tell your family I'm coming."
"Why?"
"Because then they'll make a whole fucking thing about it."
Kariage laughed softly.
"Fair."
Katsuki settled down again, his eyes slipping shut.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
Then, barely audible against Kariage's chest, Katsuki added,
"...I might stay the night."
Kariage's hand paused.
Katsuki immediately opened one eye.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was just surprised."
"Be less surprised."
Kariage bit back a smile.
"Okay."
Katsuki closed his eye again.
His fingers curled loosely into Kariage's shirt.
And this time, when the house fell silent around them, it didn't feel quite so empty.