He was supposed to love sweet things because he was a dainty, helpless creature. He needed to be coddled and pampered with softness because omegas were weak🙄🙄.
Though, they seemed to think it meant he *never* could.
Katsuki had to always be untraditional.
He’d never been treated gently, never been courted or spoiled.
But one day, feeling ill, feeling needy, he realized he didnt have ANY classic omegan comfort items.
The realization almost tempted him to buy his first hug pillow or alpha sweatshirt, but he soon recovered and the thought was put out of mind. He was fine.
In their demanding, stressful line of work as pro heroes, it was frequent that they made mistakes, and everyone accepted that those mistakes could have fatal outcomes. There wasnt much blame, but it didnt make it any easier to deal with.
His supervisor had given him three days off to recuperate from the incident, but it read to Katsuki as a punishment.
He was on timeout bc he fucked up.
Of course Izuku would come after him. Katsuki clenched his sore jaw, focusing on the ache as he tried to ground himself.
“What is it, nerd.” His voice was stiff, tone curt.
Katsuki slowly turned to face Izuku, face tense.
Izuku hesitated a moment.
“Dinner at mine?”
Wanting to lash out with the anger, despair, and frustration built up inside him, he met Izuku’s eyes...
And saw the bags under them.
Izuku’s shoulders were drooped with clear exhaustion, and he looked almost pleading.
He couldn’t refuse so blatant a beg to not be left alone.
Izuku had been in the dog shed for his latest part in a recent fire accident, so Katsuki knew the offer was just as big an attempt to comfort himself as it was to comfort Katsuki.
He walked ahead of Izuku, knowing the Alpha would follow him like a puppy—he always had.
“I don’t,” Izuku said, sheepish, catching up and following behind obediently. “Err, I might have some... celery?”
Izuku laughed in delight.
“Kacchan, don’t tell me you’re *still* bitter about that!”
“I got in trouble!” Katsuki protested, petulant. “I had to miss two whole playtimes!”
Katsuki scoffed, suppressing his grin. “So? What are we cooking? Fruit salad?”
Izuku scratched his neck. “I don’t even have any fruit... Ah. Not that I don’t love your cooking, but do you mind if we order in?”
He understood why Izuku wasn’t eager to be seen out in public soon enough.
Not only was his own failure broadcasted on every billboard possible, but replays of Izuku’s from a couple days before was as well.
Katsuki turned on the TV, and of *course* the channel onscreen was displaying footage of his recent fuck up.
Katsuki stared blankly.
He saw Katsuki standing in front of the TV, silent as he watched the footage of the building collapse and fall on the girl, Katsuki missing her by metres.
Izuku frowned. “Kacchan?”
Katsuki’s face remained blank.
Izuku hesitated. Katsuki was on scent blockers, like he and all pro heroes. But standing so close, and being so accustomed to it, he could smell him.
If there was an alpha he was close to, a scenting might help him calm down. But he wasn’t...
Izuku bit his lip, eyes flitting to the bundle in his arms.
Katsuki blinked, looking up at Izuku slowly, gaze empty.
Izuku felt his heart clench.
“Kacchan, let’s sit down?” He offered, gently grabbing Katsuki’s arm.
Katsuki was alarmingly compliant.
Izuku paused but unfolded the bundle in his arms.
Hesitating a moment, he lifted it to his neck and let his scent soak through the fabric, releasing as much of it as he could.
Izuku just wanted to help him, but he feared he would only insult and anger him.
Katsuki didn’t react, still blank, empty, a clear pit of self-hatred, beating himself up inside.
Izuku realized that this was the first time Katsuki was seeing the name or face of the girl he wasn’t able to save.
Izuku closed his eyes, spending a sober moment of silence in memory of the poor child.
He opened his eyes and saw the empty despair in Katsuki’s.
Slowly, trying not to startle the omega, he unfolded the scented blanket and wrapped it around Katsuki. He smoothed it out, tucking it around Katsuki carefully.
For once, he didn’t feel like working out until he vomited and passed out. He felt his head clear of his vitriolic self-loathing, feeling incredibly warm and oddly, safe.
“What—“ Katsuki cleared his throat, swallowing down his earlier anguish. “What are you—“
“Sorry!” Izuku blurted. “I just, uh, well that’s, it not—“
This was Izuku’s place, so he was confused to not recognize this blanket.
Katsuki stroked the inside, eyes widening slightly at the sheer softness of it.
It was only when he paused to breathe in the scent he’d just infused into the cloth that he realized Izuku had marked it too.
‘Oh fuck,’ he mentally cursed, a full body shiver running though him. That felt good. *So* good.
It felt like home.
Izuku was watching, trying to hide his furious blush.
If he was lucky, he might even get to see other similar views.
Katsuki pondered that, and then quietly nodded. He was still tucked into the blanket, and when Izuku got up to call and order, he saw Katsuki snuggle further into it.
He wanted to see that unguarded, pure happiness on Katsuki everyday.
He couldn’t resist buying them if they reminded him of Katsuki.
But he always thought he never had a chance.
Seeing the omega he’d admired, coveted, and desired his whole life, let out a small, highpitched keen when he saw Izuku, subconsciously beckoning the Alpha closer, Izuku felt his heart swell.
Katsuki had accepted his courting.