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The sea breathes against Minato Cove long before the sun clears the horizon.
Katsuki feels it even before dawn, lying awake in his narrow bed above the coffee shop, the ocean’s rhythm pressing against his ribs like it’s syncing itself to his heartbeat. He hates that he notices. Hates that it’s easier to fall asleep when the tide is right.
Katsuki wakes to it the way some people wake to alarms—abrupt, irritated, already tense. The sound comes through the cracked window of his apartment above Salt and Hallowed Grounds: a low, endless hush, waves folding in on themselves, retreating, returning. He lies there for a moment with his forearm thrown over his eyes, jaw tight, counting the rhythm without meaning to.
In.
Out.
In.
When the blond realizes what he’s doing, he scowls at the ceiling and sits up.
“Stupid,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
The clock on his nightstand reads 6:41 AM. The tide will turn soon. He doesn’t check the chart anymore—hasn’t in months—but his body knows anyway. There’s a pressure in his chest, a faint restlessness under his skin, like something is about to happen and he’s already late for it.
Katsuki ignores that too.
Nestled between a weathered lighthouse and a bookstore with ivy-choked shutters sits Salt and Hallowed Grounds, a coffee shop with windows that fog in the mornings and creaky wooden floors that moan with every step. Those same wooden floors creak under Katsuki's boots as he flips the sign to OPEN, the espresso machine warming like a living thing behind the counter. Salt clings to the windows. Fog beads along the glass. The ocean is close enough that it feels like it’s watching him work.
Salt rides in with the fog, damp and cold, clinging to the hems of jackets and the cuffs of jeans. The ocean is restless today—Katsuki clocked that hours ago, from the way the gulls screamed and the waves struck the rocks too hard, too often.
The blond's mid-clean, sleeves rolled, hands aching from steam and repetition. The espresso machine continues to tick and sigh behind him. Outside, fog curls low over the street, blurring the line between land and sea. This town always does that—makes borders feel negotiable.
The bell over the coffee shop door rings and Katsuki feels it like a hook under his ribs. He’s wiping down the counter, knuckles raw from sanitizer and heat, the espresso machine still breathing steam behind him. The shop smells like dark roast and sugar and the ocean creeping in through the cracks, and for half a second he tells himself it’s just another customer.
Katsuki doesn’t look up right away. He doesn’t need to. Kirishima’s presence settles into the room like warmth soaking into cold stone. Alpha instincts stir, not sharp, not aggressive—just aware. Attentive. Annoyingly invested. Katsuki hates that most of all.
Finally, he looks up.
Kirishima stands in the doorway, framed by fog and gray morning light. The redhead stands in the doorway like he always does, like he belongs there. The other man's hair is messy from the wind, cheeks pinked by the cold, eyes bright in a way that makes Katsuki's chest ache before he can stop it. There’s a moment—always a moment—where Kirishima looks around the shop, breathes it in, like he’s checking that it’s still real.
Their eyes meet.
Kirishima smiles. Not bright yet—soft, like he’s easing into it. “Hey.”
Katsuki's chest tightens. He scowls to compensate. “You’re late.”
Kirishima blinks. “Am I?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “Eight minutes.”
Kirishima laughs under his breath, stepping closer to the counter. “Didn’t know you were keeping track.”
When the blond doesn't immediately respond, Kirishima, his tone playful, continues:
“Still studying murder fish?”
“They’re called apex predators,” Katsuki snaps.
Kirishima hums. “Figures you’d like the ones that don’t ask permission.”
Katsuki's jaw tightens. The alpha turns away before his face gives him away. “What do you want?”
“The usual,” Kirishima says. Then, gentler, “Please.”
That does something. It always does.
Katsuki tells himself it’s just the other's scent—omega warmth threaded with salt, steady and calm. Kirishima smells like ocean depths and warmth, like sunlit kelp and something ancient. Not masked. Not artificial. Real - too real. The redhead never lets it spike, never pushes, never pulls. He exists quietly, and somehow that’s worse.
Katsuki grabs a mug without looking and makes the drink without asking questions. He doesn’t think about how his hands know this by heart, the way he knows dorsal fin structures and migration routes. The blond alpha ignores how his hands move automatically—grind, tamp, lock. Extra shot. Honey. Oat milk. Steam until the pitch changes, until the milk is warm, but not scorched. Cinnamon measured with care he would never admit to.
Efficiency. That’s all.
Kirishima leans against the counter, elbows resting on scarred wood. His fingers trail along the surface absently, like he’s feeling for something under the grain.
“You look tired,” Kirishima says.
Katsuki snorts. “You say that every day.”
“Because it’s true every day.”
When he slides the mug over, Kirishima’s fingers brush his. It only lasts a second - barely a touch at all. But Katsuki's breath hitches anyway. His alpha instincts flare—protective and wanting, then immediately leashed. Kirishima’s scent ripples, surprised, then settles again like a tide smoothing its own wake.
“Thanks,” Kirishima says, quieter than usual.
He takes the window seat. Always the window.
Katsuki pretends not to watch him between orders. He pretends he doesn’t notice how Kirishima’s shoulders drop the longer he can see the water, how his gaze keeps drifting past the glass like the horizon is tugging at him. The alpha swears that he's not watching him as he moves around the shop, refilling sugar jars that don’t need it, wiping an already-clean counter. From the corner of his eye, he sees Kirishima wrap both hands around the mug, shoulders easing further as he looks out at the water.
The ocean is visible from the window today—dark blue, restless, stretching out farther than Katsuki can see. Something in Kirishima’s posture changes the longer he looks at it, like a tension Katsuki hadn’t noticed slowly unwinds.
Katsuki swallows.
Minato Cove knows things it doesn’t talk about.
Katsuki, like the rest of the town, knows about supernatural creatures. Everyone does. They just don’t talk about it. Don’t ask why certain people only show up at night, or why some families never leave, or why the sea watches back if you stare too long.
Everyone here knows the sea isn’t empty. Townsfolk know there are coves no one swims in, nights when the water glows faintly blue, songs carried on fog that don’t belong to gulls or wind. Supernatural creatures exist. That’s not the strange part.
The strange part is how easily people learn to look away.
Katsuki doesn’t look away. He studies marine biology, specializing in apex predators—sharks, orcas, things with teeth and territories and ancient instincts. Creatures that belong to their environments so completely that the idea of removing them feels wrong. The blond alpha respects the way they rule their environments not through cruelty, but inevitability.
Something in that speaks to him. He’s never figured out why and he tells himself that doesn’t mean anything.
Weeks stretch by and with them the slow ache of routine builds.
Kirishima comes in on rough-water days quieter than usual, eyes shadowed, hands wrapped tight around his mug. On calm days, he hums softly, like he’s tuned to something beneath the surface. Katsuki notices everything and he hates himself for it.
“You ever get sick of coffee?” Kirishima asks one afternoon.
“No,” Katsuki answers automatically.
Kirishima just smiles - sharp teeth on full display.
Attempting to hide the blush as blood rushes to his face, Katsuki forces a scowl. “Drink your damn coffee.”
Kirishima does—but he lingers. He always lingers, as if leaving is harder than staying.
That night, Katsuki dreams of water. Not drowning. Never that. He’s standing waist-deep in a dark, endless sea, the surface glowing faintly around him. Something massive moves beneath—circling, curious, not hostile. He feels watched, recognized.
He wakes with his heart pounding and the taste of salt on his tongue.
“Get it together,” he growls to the empty room.
Outside, the tide is turning. He doesn’t check the time. He already knows.
The first time they’re outside the shop together, it’s unplanned. Katsuki locks the door after closing, shoulders tight, mind still buzzing with assignments and salt air and Kirishima-shaped thoughts. He pockets his keys—and hears footsteps.
“Hey.”
He turns. Kirishima stands under the streetlight, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. He's nervous. A realization that lands heavy in Katsuki’s chest.
“What?” Katsuki says.
“I—uh. I was waiting,” Kirishima admits. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”
Katsuki hesitates. He could say no. He should say no. Instead: “I’m walking.”
Kirishima’s face brightens like he’d been hoping for that. “Cool.”
They walk toward the shore. The ocean grows louder with every step, waves crashing like they’re arguing with the land.
“You ever think about leaving?” Kirishima asks.
“All the time,” Katsuki says.
Kirishima nods. “Yeah. Me too.”
But there’s something in his voice—something restrained like leaving isn’t really an option. They stop at the overlook. Moonlight paints the water silver and restless. Kirishima steps closer to the edge without hesitation. Katsuki follows, instincts prickling.
“I like you,” Kirishima says, sudden and quiet.
Katsuki’s heart stutters. “You don’t even know me.”
Kirishima turns, expression open, earnest, aching. “I know enough.”
Katsuki wants—so badly—to pull him close. To claim. To protect. The urge is sharp and frightening in its intensity. He swallows it down.
“You’re trouble.”
Kirishima smiles, soft and sad. “Yeah.”
Katsuki tells himself he isn’t waiting for 7:17.
He tells himself this while scrubbing the same section of the counter twice. While checking the grinder settings for the third time. While glancing—just once—at the clock mounted crookedly above the pastry case.
7:14.
“Tch.”
He turns his back on it, shoulders tight. Waiting implies anticipation. Anticipation implies desire. Desire implies weakness and Katsuki doesn’t have time for that. He has lectures to attend, research to finish, a future that doesn’t include getting tangled up with an omega who smells like the ocean and looks at him like he’s something steady in a shifting world.
The bell rings.
7:17.
Katsuki doesn’t react. He doesn’t jump. The blond definitely doesn't look up immediately. He refuses on principle actually. And, he absolutely does not feel the way his chest loosens like a pressure valve releasing.
“Morning,” Kirishima says, warm as ever.
Katsuki grunts. “You’re on time.”
“High praise,” Kirishima laughs, stepping up to the counter. His jacket is damp again, like he’s been walking closer to the shoreline than necessary. There’s salt on his collar, faint, but unmistakable.
Katsuki notices because of course he does.
“You always walk the beach before coming here?” Katsuki asks before he can stop himself.
Kirishima blinks, surprised. “Uh, yeah. It helps me think.”
Katsuki hums noncommittally and turns to make the drink, irritation curling low in his gut. He doesn’t like that question slipping out. More importantly, the alpha doesn’t like the way Kirishima’s answer feels like confirmation of something Katsuki hasn’t put words to yet.
The omega scent is stronger today.
Not overwhelming—never that. Kirishima keeps himself tightly controlled. But it’s there, threading through the shop like mist: sea foam sweetness, clean brine, something old and deep underneath. It doesn’t spike Katsuki’s instincts into aggression or dominance. It settles them and somehow that’s worse.
“You got a lot on your mind,” Kirishima says lightly, watching him work.
Katsuki scoffs. “You psychic now?”
Kirishima grins. “Nah. Just observant.”
The cup slides across the counter. Cinnamon dusted just right.
Kirishima’s fingers brush his again. This time, Katsuki doesn’t pull away immediately. The contact lingers a fraction of a second longer than it should. Katsuki feels the warmth of the omega's skin. He basks in the faint buzz under it like energy humming just beneath the surface. Kirishima inhales sharply.
Katsuki jerks his hand back, jaw clenched. “Don’t read into it.”
Kirishima’s smile fades into something softer, more careful. “Wasn’t planning to.”
He takes his drink and goes to the window.
Katsuki exhales slowly, counting in his head like he does when things feel out of control.
In.
Out.
The ocean beyond the glass is calmer today, rolling in lazy waves that glitter faintly in the morning light. Kirishima watches it like it’s speaking to him, like it’s saying something Katsuki can’t hear.
Katsuki realizes that he doesn’t like that feeling either.
Minato Cove runs on quiet agreements.
The fishermen nod to Kirishima when he passes, eyes sliding away too quickly. The old woman who runs the bookstore gives him sea glass wrapped in paper sometimes, no explanation offered. Kids don’t splash near him when he wades too close to the water; they just drift away, instinctively.
Katsuki notices all of it.
“You’re popular,” he mutters one afternoon, the blond watching Kirishima chat easily with a local before closing.
Kirishima shrugs. “Guess I’ve just been here a while.”
“How long?”
Kirishima hesitates - just a beat. “Long enough.”
Katsuki narrows his eyes but lets it go. He’s good at letting things go when pushing would make them worse. It’s a skill he learned young.
Still, the pieces start stacking up.
Kirishima never eats pastries. He never complains about the cold. His skin is always warm, even in winter. And sometimes—only sometimes—Katsuki swears he sees something flash behind Kirishima’s eyes when the ocean is rough. Gold. Reflective. Gone in a blink.
One night as Kirishima lingers long past closing, Katsuki finds himself ruminating. The blond mulls over their previous conversations - every single one of their prior interactions. And, despite devout effort, the alpha finds himself drawn back to a familiar question as he pulls apart each shared moment.
“So, do you ever think about leaving?”
Kirishima stiffens - not much, but enough. A beat passes, then the redhead's lips settle into a firm line.
"Sometimes,” he says carefully.
“But?”
Kirishima looks toward the water.
“Some things don’t let you leave.”
Katsuki understands that more than he wants to admit.
The dreams come back.
This time, Katsuki stands at the edge of a cliff, wind tearing at his clothes. Below, the sea churns, dark and endless. Something vast moves beneath the surface, its presence undeniable.
It looks up at him. Not with eyes—but with awareness.
Katsuki wakes with his heart racing and his sheets tangled around his legs like seaweed.
“Enough,” he growls, shoving himself upright.
He doesn’t go back to sleep.
The first real crack forms on a storm-heavy evening.
The shop is empty, rain lashing the windows hard enough to rattle the frames. Katsuki’s instincts are on edge, skin tight, senses sharpened like he’s expecting something to go wrong. The coffee shop is dark except for the low amber glow over the counter, the kind Katsuki leaves on when he's cleaning late. The machines are silent. The place smells like roasted beans and disinfectant.
The bell rings late.
Kirishima stumbles in, soaked to the bone.
Katsuki’s head snaps up. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Storm came in faster than I thought,” Kirishima says, breathless. His smile is shaky. His scent is wrong—stronger, sharper, wilder, and tinged with iron and deep salt.
Katsuki’s alpha instincts surge, protective and furious. “Sit.”
“It’s nothing—”
“Sit,” Katsuki repeats, low and dangerous. Katsuki locks the door and grabs the first aid kit, movements sharp and efficient.
Kirishima obeys without argument. The redhead sits on a stool at the counter, leg stretched out, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Katsuki stands between Kirishima and the sink, sleeves shoved up, fingers rough and precise as he cleans that gash along the omega's calf. It's not too deep, thankfully, but it's ugly - jagged like something with teeth decided to be cruel.
Katsuki clicks his tongue.
"You're lucky," he mutters. "Whatever did this missed muscle, but just barely."
Kirishima laughs weakly. "Yeah, lucky."
The blond's touch is careful despite the scowl, gauze soaked, and pressure steady. His alpha's presence hums low and constant, not overwhelming - grounding like a hearth fire. Katsuki's chest aches with it - with everything he's been holding back.
Something is wrong.
Katsuki feels it before he names it - a shift in the air that has nothing to do with instincts and everything to do with Kirishima. The idiot is usually loud in his body - solid, obvious, all blunt edges and warmth - but right now there's a tension running through him that doesn't belong to pain alone.
Glancing down, Katsuki observes how his fingers are still braced around Kirishima's calf. Katsuki freezes, watching as the skin beneath his hands changes. Not dramatically, not enough that anyone else would clock it if they weren't already paying attention, but Katsuki is always paying attention. The warm, human pink dulls by a shade, like light refracting through water and Katsuki's world narrows to that impossible glint. Along the edge of the wound, where blood should bead the same way it always does, there's a faint shimmer - pearlescent, almost. The texture under Katsuki's thumb isn't wrong, exactly, but it's not right either. Katsuki marvels at how the texture seems too smooth, too resilient.
Kirishima inhales sharply like he's felt it too. Katsuki stills. The blond's grip tightens before he can stop himself, alpha instincts flaring - not out of dominance, not as a threat, but from focus and protection.
"What. . .impossible,” Katsuki breathes, his tone reverent. He clears his throat, "Oi," the alpha says quietly. "What was that?"
Kirishima goes very still. Then, the redhead laughs and Katsuki shudders at how thin it sounds. This laugh. . . its brittle and not the omega's usual thunderous rumble.
"You weren’t supposed to see that,” the omega says quietly. "I didn't mean for you to notice," he repeats.
Katsuki looks up, eyes burning. “What are you?”
Kirishima swallows. The omega's scent spikes not with fear, but vulnerability. A fragile trust, offered white-knuckled and bare-handed. Kirishima flinches, not from pain, but from the terror of being seen.
"I didn't want this," Kirishima says. The words tumble over each other, raw and unguarded. "I didn't want you to find out like this. Gods, not like this - on a stool, bleeding, trapping you into knowing."
Kirishima's voice shakes harder now, yearning threading through every syllable.
"I want you to keep touching me the way you were. Like, I am just. . .hurt. Like I am just someone who needs help. I want that to mean something."
Kirishima turns his face away, tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as it rolls first down his cheek and then onto his chest.
"I want you to care for me without it being tangled up in what I am. Without the sea creeping into your thoughts - I just want one more moment where you don't look at me and see the ocean first. I need more time - more moments - without you wondering if I'm dangerous, or beautiful, or something for you to study, or something to be afraid of instead of someone who's scared and in pain."
Kirishima's leg twitches as the wound on his leg fights the urge to close on its own. His flesh warps - appearing too clean, too wrong, proof of everything he's tried to hide. Kirishima's hands curl into fists.
"I was going to tell you," the omega says desperately. "I swear I was, I just - I needed to know that when you chose me, if you chose me, that it wasn't because of fins, and stories, and songs. I needed to know you'd choose me even if I were ordinary."
Kirishima finally looks at Katsuki, eyes bright with tears and breaking. The redhead searches the blond's face for anything that isn't revulsion or awe.
"Please don't let this erase what you were doing - what we've been doing, er, building," The redheaded omega begs softly. "Please don't let it change the way you look at me. I'm still here. I'm still the one under your hands. I'm still me. I just -" Kirishima's breath catches.
"I didn't want to be a secret revealed by blood. I wanted to be someone you cared for first. I don't know how to ask you to keep caring when this changes everything. But please - please understand. This isn't how I wanted you to know. I had imagined this conversation a hundred ways, but this isn't how I wanted to be seen."
Silence crashes down between them, broken only by the storm raging outside. Katsuki waits, anticipating fear. But, it doesn’t come. Instead, something inside him clicks. All the patterns. The redhead's scent. Kirishima's fixation on the sea. The way the ocean seems to soften around Kirishima’s presence.
“You should’ve told me,” Katsuki says hoarsely. The alpha watches intently as the other man swallows hard. The silence stretches until it feels louder than the room. The air smells like iron and clean water like the sea is already starting to bleed into the space between them.
Kirishima meets his gaze, eyes luminous. “I want you to see me. I know I don't get to ask for things right now," he says. quieter, voice fraying at the edges. "I know I've already taken the choice away from you." Broad shoulders draw inward, as if the redhead could fold himself small enough to disappear. "But I keep thinking - if you'd known from the start, you would've talked to me differently - touched me differently. Careful in the wrong way. Curious. Afraid."
Scales struggle to surface, the omega's leg still faintly glimmering, the skin catching with every shallow breath. Kirishima reaches down to press his palm against the wound on his leg, a useless effort, as if he can hide the truth by covering it. Before calloused, tan fingers can touch the skin of a similarly tanned calf, pale fingers lightly dotted with blood wrap around his wrist stopping the omega short of his goal. Sharp teeth worry a full bottom lip as Kirishima fights through a shuddering, painful inhale.
Katsuki’s chest tightens painfully. His lips part and the alpha chews on his words, contemplating his next words, his next move, but Kirishima continues speaking before the blond can string a coherent sentence together.
"Kat-Bakugou, I didn't want to be a lesson or a legend in your hands. I didn't want you thinking about tides and teeth or drowning when all I needed was for you to help - to be with me."
Voice cracking again, the omega speaks softer now, tone obviously aching. "I want to earn your gentleness the normal way - with time and with trust. Fuck, to earn it with stupid, ordinary moments where you forget to be impressed or wary and just. . .care."
Risking another look at Katsuki, Kirishima searches his face like someone lost at sea scanning the horizon. "If you pull away now, I will understand," the omega murmurs. "If you stop, if you change, if you decide this is too much - I won't blame you. I just -" The redhead's breath catches sharply. "Please don't pretend the person I was five minutes ago never existed - that he and I are somehow not the same."
Exhaling long, the air trembling as it leaves his lips, as if letting go of something vital. "I'm still bleeding. I'm still scared. I'm still trusting you with my body like I did before you saw the shift - the scales."
Red eyes shining, Kirishima's resolve vibrates with something equal parts desperate, but steady. "So if you can, if there's any part of you that can finish tending the wound - tending to me - the way you started. Not because of what I am."
Voice dropping to a whisper, Kirshima's next words come out fragile and fervent. "Do it because I'm here. Because I asked. Because you cared enough to touch me before you knew."
Katsuki releases Kirishima's wrist gently. The alpha moves on instinct and intention before the omega can react or pull away. Equally calloused, yet pale fingers trace up the other's palm and intertwine their fingers. Two pairs of red eyes linger on where their skin touches, the grasp hesitant at first, but then firm. Closing his eyes, Katsuki steels himself - his will absolute as the blond inhales slowly, then exhales in a rush before his nerves can stay his words and his heart.
"Kiri-" Lips pursing, Katsuki pauses, head shaking, as he mutters a firm no under his breath. He tightens his hold on the omega's hand and hopes that his scent exudes calm even with patches over his glands.
"Eijirou," Katsuki allows the word to form and sit pleasantly in his mouth as the man above him gasps. "Eijirou, I am man enough to admit that I struggle with my emotions, with allowing others to see me. I can be ill-tempered and downright disagreeable on even the best of days. There are many things I am unsure of, especially about myself. But, listen Red, I have never been unsure about you - not the first time you rolled in here like the waves themselves brought you to me, and definitely not now. This-" Katsuki gestures with a tilt of his chin to the way Eijirou's skin glistens as it catches the light. "This changes nothing, Eijirou, because you feel right to me and have since the beginning. Something bone deep within me knows it. You - we - are inevitable."
Tears stream down tanned cheeks and Katsuki finds himself growing misty-eyed as the omega perching on the stool above him trembles and sobs not from pain, but from an emotion much deeper - something finally breaking free and allowing itself to breathe, to feel, to be. The blond continues as the air grows thick with the smell of brine, sun-warmed skin, and honeyed amber.
"Eijirou, not a single moment with you is or has ever been ordinary. You ask for me to not be reverent - for me to deny my awe and fear. But, I can not forsake these things. I cannot pretend I do not feel devotion and yet trepidation in your presence."
Pausing, Katsuki tries to collect himself, but the words keep tumbling from his lips with no sign of stopping. Normally this would leave the blond frustrated, angry even, but he isn't in control right now at least not in the way that matters. He simply settles into a rhythm set by something much bigger and much older than him.
"But, more than your ends have to be fried if you genuinely think that this changes how I see you. Frankly, it hardly changes anything at all.
Eijirou, you being a mer - a true child of the sea - is less of an adjustment for me than your flaming mane or the way you can eat a full pound of squid in eighty-three seconds flat, oh, or the fact that you pronounce espresso as ex-press-o."
Eijirou clicks his tongue, rolls his eyes, and leans down until his face hovers just inches from the alpha's. Katsuki's cheeks heat, but he pushes through, needing to speak the words threatening to burst from his chest. He's got to finish what he started - and gods does it make him feel naked - completely and totally exposed.
"Here's the thing, Red, the only truly disarming thing about you - the only thing that changes how I see you is your uncanny ability to be something or someone rather that I feel both wildly unsure and unwaveringly certain of. That's what changed how I see you, fully see you. Its the scariest part of falling for you - the knowing, the realizing that I have no idea what I am doing, but at the same time, knowing exactly why I have to."
The moment the last word leaves Katsuki's lips, he's startled by a sudden lap full of Eijirou Kirishima. Both men flinch as the stool the redhead had been sitting on clatters to the floor. Katsuki leans back against the bar counter and Eijirou follows. The omega cups Katsuki's jaw firmly with one hand while the other extends out above them, gripping the countertop tightly. The blond releases a shaky breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. Eijirou bullies his way further into Katsuki's personal space. A hiss of breath rushes through sharp teeth as the position puts pressure and strain on Eijirou's injured leg. Katsuki starts to protest, to lean up, and urge the other man to be careful, lest he tear the wound further, but plush lips press forcefully against his own instantly silencing the blond alpha.
Moaning softly, Katsuki allows his eyes to drift closed as he just feels. The blond relishes in the way that Eijirou crowds him, their bodies flush against each other, as their lips part and the kiss deepens. Leaning up, Katsuki moves so one hand grips the countertop beside Eijirou's and his other hand tangles in damp, red hair. Eijirou gasps and it allows Katsuki to tighten his hold on red tresses as the blond runs his tongue along the larger man's sharp fangs. Flicking his tongue along first one then a second set of sharp, elongated omegan fangs, Katsuki shudders with a moan. He trembles as the point of each tooth nicks along his tongue and the scent and taste of his own blood floods his senses. Red hair blurs his vision as the alpha lolls his tongue out in an effort to catch the venom as it drips from Eijirou's gums and teeth. Katsuki attempts to lean back, pulling his tongue back into his own mouth and swallowing the venom and saliva that pooled on his tongue. The blonde's eyelids flutter, eyes sliding shut as he allows himself to appreciate the way the venom thrums and pulses under his skin. A trilling and clicking noise startles Katsuki and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the man hovering above him.
An ephemeral light brightens Eijirou's eyes. Katsuki swallows, throat thick with surprise and arousal, as he takes in the way the mordant fire of Eijirou's eyes has been eclipsed by a visibly inhuman pupil wrapped in shades of opalescent blue-gray. Licking his lips, the alpha admires the way small bursts of gold flick through the blueish hue in Eijirou's eyes. The trilling and clicking returns, the noises more rapid than before, but their tone deeper, more sensual, demanding the blond's undivided attention. Releasing his hold on the shop counter, Katsuki presses up, forcing Eijirou to lean back on his haunches, the redhead's own grip on the counter loosening. With how close they are, Katsuki can feel each inhale and exhale as the other's chest and abdomen move against his own. He braces one hand against the omega's broad chest, his thumb catching Eijirou's nipple through his shirt as Katsuki spreads his fingers wide. Arching his hips, the alpha shifts hoping to further crowd the omega as the larger man straddles his thighs.
Eijirou hisses and for a brief moment, Katsuki freezes; the blond catching the way the other's scent sours, turning the air around them pungent with pain and distress. With his inner alpha prowling and demanding that he protect and provide, Katsuki holds himself as still as possible, pale fingers reaching up to caress and cup the omega's face. He opens his mouth to ask Eijirou what's happened.
Did the omega change his mind?
Soothing the sweaty skin beneath his fingers with gentle touches, Katsuki tries to gather his wits enough to voice his concerns, but a steady wet warmth building by his ankle and calf steals his focus. Attention averted, Katsuki cants to one side, careening his neck, and being mindful to jostle the redhead as little as possible in his efforts to determine why his lower leg's starting to feel wet and warm. A large hand presses against Katsuki's chest, but he wraps his fingers around a tanned wrist and shuffles until he's able to see the bottom half of his leg. Dark red drenches his pant leg and shoe before pooling beneath him on the weathered, wooden floor below. The blond's chest tightens as he makes a series of soft croons. Katsuki and his inner alpha had been so consumed with finally being able to act on the sinew and bone-deep yearning and need that they felt for Eijirou Kirishima that the omega's leg injury had been all but forgotten.
Eyes fixating on the blood where it pools and dampens his jeans, Katsuki misses the way Eijirou's fingers spread, spanning his chest, as the larger man pushes forward into him. Gaze still averted, the blond shakily exhales, one hand moving toward the dampened fabric and the other shifting to hold Eijirou's waist. Pale fingers touch cooling blood as it seeps into faded denim and Katsuki's head shakes lightly then swivels so that he can look directly at the man he's entangled with. Air rushes from the alpha's lungs at the sight looming above him. Eijirou watches him, the omega's stare half-lidded and eyes alight in a way that reminds the smaller alpha of an eclipse during a blood moon. The dim lighting in the coffee shop sharpens the light in Eijirou's eyes and casts soft shadows along high cheekbones as clusters of crimson and onyx scales spread across tanned skin. Grip tightening as his hand slips from Eijirou's waist to his hip, Katsuki realizes he's trembling under the intensity of the omega's hooded attention. He may be an alpha, but any alpha worth his salt knows how to recognize when they are simply outmatched. Katsuki regularly cage dives and free swims with apex predators, but now as he and Eijirou settle into a fragile standstill, it dawns on him how narrow his experience of raw, predatory power is. He thinks of Eijirou's earlier words and finds that it is not fear or curiosity that surges through him, but arousal and admiration. And, as that realization sinks in, it simmers through Katsuki's scent and the blond basks in the way his scent shift causes the omega's nostrils to flare. Eijirou keens, attempting to crowd Katsuki once more, and the blond observes how desperate the other man seems to be to remove any and all space between them. Katsuki kicks out, trying to regain his balance as the omega's rushed movements send him sprawling along the floor. The scramble of limbs stops when Eijirou lets a warbling hiss and spares a look back at his own calf.
Eijirou's divided attention allows Katsuki to create a bit of distance between them - enough space for the alpha to clear his head. Wrinkling his nose and tossing his head to shake himself free of pheromones and scent, Katsuki readjusts so he can brace against the counter behind him with one hand and caress the side of Eijirou's neck with the other.
"Ei-Eijirou, omega, look at me, please."
A pair of glowing eyes greet him when the redhead turns back toward him. Katsuki sighs, the noise bordering on reverent.
"Eijirou, we've reopened the wound on your leg. I need to rewrap it. I-I think we should stop."
Immediately, the air surrounding them sours with the overwhelming aroma of sulfur and sun-rotted algae. Panic, rejection, something deeply sorrowful sing through Eijirou's scent and the omega pulls away. The omega repositions himself so he's no longer hovering over Katsuki. On instinct, Katsuki reaches for him, but Eijirou sits with one leg pulled against his abdomen and chest while the injured leg lies in front of him. Katsuki crawls toward Eijirou and finds himself level with a watery gaze. Eijirou mumbles against the knee that he's clutching to his chest. The blond blinks, his voice coming out in a rasp when he speaks:
"What did you just say?"
Red hair tosses back and forth as Eijirou shakes his head. His mumbling continues, but Katsuki catches a distinct nothing. Katsuki's alpha rears up and presses to the forefront of his mind with a steadily growing cadence of omega, protect, distress, and soothe. None of this surprises Katsuki, but when a single tear falls from Eijirou's eyes, the blond alpha's brain whites out and his thoughts fall into a steady rhythm of mate is sad, help mate, be a good alpha.
"What did you say, omega?" Katsuki repeats himself.
Eijirou quirks an eyebrow, eyes threatening to roll, but he answers, tongue flicking out to wet his full lips as he does so.
"Alpha does not want me - does not want us."
Chuffing, Katsuki slides closer to Eijirou and gently places his palm over the omega's hand where it rests on the redhead's knee.
"Eijirou, my alpha and I want you and your omega more than anything. But you're hurt, and my alpha is restless. I'm fighting instincts here, omega. I need to protect you - to heal you and care for you. But, I also need you."
Soft trills and chirps fill the space between them and a gentle lift the corners of Katsuki's lips into a warm smile. Eijirou cocks his head, a tooth peaking out of his mouth and catching on his bottom lip. Katsuki leans in, placing a light kiss on Eijirou's forehead before settling back onto his heels.
"I want to take care of you and take you apart piece-by-piece, but that cannot happen here, omega."
Katsuki uses his jaw to gesture to the coffee shop lobby and then gestures between the two of them sprawled beneath the counter, sweaty and smeared with Eijirou's blood. A blush floods Eijirou's skin along his neck and face. Pushing up off the floor, Katsuki crouches momentarily before standing and offering his hand to Eijirou. Tan fingers intertwine with Katsuki's as the omega accepts his extended hand, using the proffered hand until Eijirou kneels in front of him. The alpha inhales - a sharp yet wavering sound as red eyes widen at the vision below him. A similar shade of red assesses him as the other man's facial expression turns coy. Pink dusts Katsuki's cheeks and ears as Eijirou's features morph into something more salacious; the look, alone, sends the alpha reeling as his brain floods with thoughts that are anything but decent.
"Alpha, your face, its so red. Are you alright? Perhaps, it is I who should be taking care of you."
Eijirou's tone allows no room for interpretation; the omega's intent is clear in the teasing lilt of his voice. Katsuki curses under his breath, air stuttering in his lungs as he feels on the verge of swallowing his own tongue.
Since when did his sunshine and sea foam omega know how to be so sultry - so sensual?
The redhead's hold on Katsuki's hand tightens while the omega's other hand slides up the alpha's torso and chest as he pushes up from his kneeling position to stand. Katsuki tips his chin up ever-so-slightly to glance at Eijirou through his own hooded, longing stare. A stinging, prickling sensation buzzes across Katsuki's chest underneath each of the larger man's fingers and along the skin of his knuckles where the omega's fingers intertwine with and overlap his own. Carmine eyes flit to each point of contact and the blond fights the urge openly pant and moan as he observes the way Eijirou's fingers shift and change. Once trimmed-short fingernails vanish and in their place are razor-like, curved talons. They strike the alpha as sleek, formidable, and he savors how each pointed claw digs into his skin, threatening to rend the flesh and draw blood to the surface. Nails like knives trace small welts into his skin as the redhead brings Katsuki's hand to his lips and places an open-mouthed kiss along the back of it. An elongated tongue lolls from between sharp teeth, wet and wicked as it drags slowly over each of the alpha's fingers with ease. Serrated teeth nip at the tips of the blond's calloused fingertips, eyes red like blood ablaze with wanton need and breath-taking desire as the omega teases work-worn flesh, mischief dancing across defined features.
Eijirou tilts his head, eyes tracing the line of Katsuki's jaw, the redhead's voice low and teasing:
"If not here, then where, alpha?" He purrs.
Jaw slack and tongue leaden, Katsuki stutters through a series of half-thoughts and almost-words until he manages to rein in his flustered thoughts and rattled speech.
"Upstairs, gods, Eijirou, you make it impossible to think straight."
Katsuki adjusts his grip and threads their fingers together once more as he walks quickly toward the door behind the front counter. He pauses, turning to determine if the shop's front door remains unlocked, but a solid chest presses against his side, and urges them closer to the door. The alpha hesitates, eyes still searching the soft-lit shop, as he fights the impulse to dart around Eijirou toward the door to make certain that it's locked. Despite not knowing how to get to Katsuki's apartment through the shop, the omega tugs at their joined hands. His movements layered with desperate determination.
"Door's fine, alpha. Lock's in place. We're safe. I'm safe."
Alpha instincts light along each of the blond's nerve endings and the certainty that they can be - just the two of them, uninterrupted - emboldens him. Trailing eagerly behind him, Eijirou whispers a faint good alpha and those words stir something deep within the blond's gut. A simple phrase spurs him forward, legs making quick work of maneuvering behind the front counter, through the door to the kitchen, and down a conjoining hallway that led to three things: a staff bathroom, a storage room, and an alcove enclosing the stairs that led up to his apartment. Toned calves clear the first two steps, the alpha intending to take them two-at-a-time, but a shallow whine stops him short. Katsuki's foot hovers, stuck aloft between one step and the next. He plants his foot, pivoting to look at Eijirou, who stands balancing unsteadily between the landing at the bottom of the stairs and the worn bottom step.
Right, Katsuki wrestles with the impulse to face palm. Again, in the heat of the moment he forgets the omega's actively bleeding and bite-punctured calf. Well-loved combat boots thump against the wood as the alpha hastily descends the two steps he had rushed up only moments before. At the base of the stairs, the blond stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Eijirou, their hands clasped between them, as both men eye each other and then the stairs leading up to the second floor. The shine of an old, brass doorknob interrupts the darkness of the staircase as the muted light from the floor below catches on the aged metal. Both men crane their necks to peer up at where the stairway comes to a head on the next landing.
Nodding to himself, Katsuki lets go of Eijirou's hand, pulling the taller man's arm over his shoulders, as he wraps his arm around a broad waist. The alpha gently bumps the omega's hip with his own and nods toward the stairs. Razor-like, blinding-white teeth arch into an easy smile and the omega chirps faintly. Steeling himself, Katsuki takes the steps slower than he ever has in his life, one careful rise at a time, because Eijirou presses against his side and every shift of weight matters. For a moment, the blond alpha closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, as he takes in the way the stairwell is warm and close. He breathes in coffee and brine as they well up around them like a living thing. Eijirou's arm settles where it hooks around his shoulders, grip strong, but a little desperate, fingers curling into the fabric of Katsuki's shirt like he's afraid to let go. Katsuki keeps a firm hand at Eijirou's waist, the other braces at his back, guiding, steadying. The alpha's touch is gentle in a way that feels foreign and natural all at once.
"You've got me," Katsuki murmurs, the timber of his words softer than even his own ears expect. "I'm not letting you fall, Eiji."
Eijirou huffs out a breath; the air wobbles as it leaves his lips. "I know. I just-" The redhead lifts his injured leg for the next step and his knee shakes. "Hurts more when I stop."
Immediately tightening his hold, Katsuki pulls him closer until Eijirou's chest brushes his. "Then we don't stop."
They climb together, bodies moving in quiet sync. Katsuki feels everything - the warmth of Eijirou's side, the slide of muscle beneath skin, the way the omega's breath catches every few steps. The wrapped bite on Eijirou's calf bleeds a faint metallic edge into the air, and beneath it, omega-sweet need unfurls, slow and aching.
It hits Katsuki low in the gut.
He swallows it down, fangs dropping and aching, but he focuses on the way Eijirou leans into him without hesitation, trusting…needing.
"Sorry," Eijirou whispers when he stumbles - the redhead half-missing a step. His forehead dips to Katsuki's collarbone and his voice is rough, threaded with something small and vulnerable. "Didn't mean to be this heavy."
"You're not," Katsuki says instantly, hand sliding up Eijirou's spine in a soothing sweep. He doesn't pull away when Eijirou stays there, breathing him in. "You're doing fine. I've got you. Yeah?"
Eijirou nods against his chest, sweat-dampened, red waves brushing Katsuki's jaw. The omega's grip tightens, like he's grounding himself in the alpha's presence. "Don't let go," he murmurs, barely audible.
Katsuki's chest aches. "Wasn't planning on it."
The last few steps stretch long and slow. Adjusting his hold again, the blond lifts just enough to ease the pressure off of Eijirou's injured leg. Katsuki's thumb traces a thoughtless, tender line at the omega's hip, the touch lingering longer than necessary. He feels Eijirou shiver at it, breath hitching, scent blooming richer in response to the other's touch. When they reach the landing, Katsuki pauses, letting Eijirou settle before they move again. Their faces are close now, breaths mingling. Red eyes look up at him, somehow despite the pain the redhead is in they're still surrounded with a slight luminescent glow. The alpha lingers as he takes in the way Eijirou's eyes darken, but remain open and full of quiet want.
"Your place?"Eijirou asks, though he already knows.
"Yeah," Katsuki answers. "Right here." He adds though there are no other doors for possible tenants.
Cool metal brushes Katsuki's fingers as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls the key out with ease, the metal already warming in his hand. The door opens into familiar smells - clean cotton, amber, robust remnants of coffee, and something wholly Katsuki, himself. He guides Eijirou inside with the same care, never fully breaking contact, as he navigates them from the entryway, across the living room, and into the bathroom. The moment he eases Eijirou down onto the side of the tub, the redhead's hand hooks in his sleeve, tugging weakly.
"Stay," Eijirou asks, the word light, but urgent.
Katsuki doesn't argue. He kneels in front of the other instead, hands warm and reverent as he lifts Eijirou's leg and balances it across his forearm. Pale fingers of the alpha's opposite hand skim the bandage, noting where it's come loose, his touch careful and protective. His gaze lingers there, jaw tightening with a quiet, possessive ache.
"You're safe," the blond tells him, voice low. "I've got you. You can relax."
Eijirou exhales, shoulders slumping as the tension bleeds out of him. He reaches forward, fingertips brushing Katsuki's wrist, then curling there like he needs the contact to breathe. "I trust you," he says, simple and yet devastating.
Covering Eijirou's hand with his own, Katsuki uses his thumb to rub slow circles into tan skin. He leans closer without thinking, forehead almost touching Eijirou's. The hunger between them is thick, pulsing, yet somehow held carefully in check.
The alpha stays right there, close enough to feel Eijirou's need, gentle enough to hold it without taking.
“…Idiot,” he mutters, voice straining and watery, his hands gentle as he turns, grabbing clean wound supplies and quickly finishes re-wrapping the wound on Eijirou's calf. The blond's hands move with practiced care, smoothing the bandage like he's afraid roughness might linger after his touch leaves. He tapes it down, checks that it's secure with the right amount of tension, then finally lets his fingers rest on the omega's calf, touch lingering, persistent.
Eijirou's lips quirk. “Your idiot?”
Katsuki snorts despite himself. “Don’t push it.”
Silence settles comfortably over them. The alpha's piercing gaze assesses his handiwork and he hums to himself. "That should hold," he says to the omega perched on the side of the tub above him. "No walking around on it unless absolutely necessary, okay?"
Nodding, eyes half-lidded, Eijirou's gaze drifts like he's already sinking somewhere arm and internal. His scent thickens - comfort-seeking, ripe and sweet with need - and it curls around Katsuki's senses and instincts in a slow, intoxicating pull. He shakes his head, struggling against the way the scent coaxes him.
"Go make yourself comfortable," Katsuki adds, words slurring with the weight of the pheromones flooding his quaint bathroom. "I'll clean up in here. Be right out, omega."
Hesitating, Eijirou's fingers brush along Katsuki's wrist as if the idea of separation physically pains him. "You'll join me?" The blond notes the way the larger man's words thrum with a quiet earnestness.
Chest tightening, Katsuki swallows around the sudden tightness in his throat, then hurriedly speaks, "Yeah, Ei, I promise."
That's enough. Katsuki's words seem to convince him. Eijirou pushes himself up, moving carefully, mindful of his leg, as he slips out of the bathroom. Katsuki watches him go for a second too long before turning to rinse his hands, methodically. The familiar movements, the sound of running water, and the cool touch of polished porcelain ground him. As the alpha cleans, he notes that he doesn't hear much, at least not at first - just the distant creak of the floorboards, a drawer opening, then closing. Then, another. Fabric sliding. The soft thumb of something dropping.
By the time Katsuki finishes and dries his hands, the air in the apartment has shifted. He steps out of the bathroom and follows the pull of scent without thinking, padding across the living room and down the short hall toward his bedroom. He notices the door is open. Bare feet cross the threshold and stop. Eijirou is on the floor. He's not hurt, no, he's nesting. Katsuki stops short just inside the doorway.
Vision sweeping across the room, Katsuki discovers that the blankets from his linen closet are piled haphazardly, layered with hoodies, old t-shirts, and a faded flannel that Katsuki recognizes as his favorite. Pillows are half-crushed into the center, shaped by instinct rather than design, and in the middle of it all is Eijirou. His eyes widen slightly, nostrils flaring, and muscles coiling and tightening as the blond takes in the way the omega curls on his side, bare skin glowing warm against dark fabric. Katsuki stumbles half a step into the room as his eyes lock onto Eijirou. The omega's stripped down to his boxers, broad shoulders relaxed for the first time all night, and wavy hair mussed like he's been dragging his hands through it. He's clutching one of Katsuki's shirts to his chest, knuckles white, and his nose pressing into the collar like he needs to breathe Katsuki in just to stay steady.
Half a dozen minutes pass, the moment stretching, before EIjirou looks up, finally sensing that Katsuki is there.
"Oh," Eijirou falters and flushes instantly, eyes wide and a little glassy. "I - I didn't mean to make a mess, Katsuki. Honest, I just - it felt wrong not to-" His voice dips, cutting off. Katsuki doesn't miss how needy and unguarded the redheaded omega sounds. The blond eyes how pointed teeth sink into a plush lip as Eijirou continues to cling to his shirt, fingers toying with the hem of a sleeve idly. "Your stuff smells right."
Something in Katsuki gives. A dam breaks. The blond steps further into the room, movements slow, like he's approaching something fragile, delicate. "You're fine," he reassures the omega. His voice slips low and calm, even as his alpha buzzes with energy and need at the sight. "That's -" The alpha exhales forcefully through his nose. "That's. . .yeah, that's okay."
Broad shoulders sink as Eijirou visibly relaxes further. The omega shifts and Katsuki spots how the other winces faintly as his wounded leg adjusts, then Eijirou reaches out without fully lifting his head, long, thick fingers catching the hem of Katsuki's pants.
"Can you -" Eijirou starts, trails off, then swallows. "Can you come closer? Stay close?"
Kneeling at the edge of the nest, Katsuki arranges himself carefully so as not to disrupt it. His hand comes down to Eijirou's shoulder, warm and solid, a pale thumb caressing slow reassurance into sun-kissed skin.
"I'm not going anywhere, Eijirou."
A deep, relieved exhalation follows. The redhead scoots closer on instinct, pressing his side into Katsuki's knee. Eijirou's hold on the shirt in his hands tightens, his scent blooming richer, calmer, and anchored. The alpha stays right there, heart pounding and threatening to lodge in his throat as he looks down at the omega in an impromptu-made nest - half-bare, trusting, wanting - and Katsuki hopes he can be exactly what Eijirou needs.
Breath still coming a little too fast, Katsuki remains at the edge of the nest. The heat under his skin pulses sharp, restless, all that familiar urgency clawing up his spine, but the moment he allows himself to see Eijirou, to truly see the omega as he curls there, the rush falters. Gone is the rushing, fervent hunger that burned beneath Katsuki's skin only moments before. And, as the moment sways forward, he senses a similar shift in the omega pressing against him. The air and the energy around and between them changes - softening into something heavier.
Eijirou stirs, leaning his side more firmly into Katsuki's knee, trusting and warm. The contact pulls a low sound from Katsuki's chest before he can even think to stop it. A pale hand lifts, then hesitates, fingers hovering as if the alpha's afraid to break the tenuous thread binding this moment between them together. His hand trembles, just a little, where it touches EIjirou's shoulder.
"Ei," Katsuki mumbles, voice rough, but careful now, every previous sharp edge reined in. He swallows, forcing himself to slow, to be here instead of charging ahead like he so wildly and deeply wants to do.
"Can I. . .can I join you in your nest?"
The question costs him something. It strips the urgency bare and leaves devotion in its place, intense and aching. Katsuki stays exactly where he is, kneeling, waiting - letting the need settle into reverence, into the deep, sensual pull of wanting not to take, but to be allowed.
Eijirou answers by moving first. He tilts his head, cheek brushing Katsuki's thigh, a quiet invitation made from a depth beyond words. Tan fingers curl lightly into the fabric near Katsuki's knee, ground him there, choosing him. The scent permeating the nest deepens as Eijirou exhales, rich and familiar, and it sinks straight into Katsuki's chest. The blond's breath stutters. The last of the frantic edge drains out of him, and what it leaves in its wake is molten and steady. He shifts closer on his knees, slow, deliberate, like every inch matters. When Katsuki slides into and across the edge of the nest, the materials crinkle and whisper around him, and he pauses again - still careful - until he can lie beside Eijirou. The omega leans back into him, spine fitting naturally against Katsuki.
"Yeah," Eijirou rasps. His word comes a beat late, but is no less sure.
The word loosens an ache buried deep in Katsuki's ribs. His hand eases from Eijirou's shoulder, trailing down a muscled bicep, teasing along tanned skin, then settles more firmly on the omega's hip. His thumb brushes a soothing line there, then another. The trembling in the alpha's hand fades, replaced by a heat that hums instead of burns. The blond bends forward, resting his forehead between the redhead's shoulder blades, breathing Eijirou in like he's been starving.
"I'm here," Katsuki speaks against the other's skin, quieter than he's ever been. The promise in it is unmistakable. Eijirou's weight melts back into Katsuki's chest and the nest seems to close around them. Adjusting, movements careful and instinctive, Katsuki wraps one arm around Eijirou's middle - not to trap, but to hold. Their bodies settle into an easy alignment, heartbeats finding a shared rhythm. Their years-long, unspoken yearning doesn't disappear, it resolves. It stretches out between them, satisfied, no longer reaching for something out of grasp. Katsuki places a reverent kiss on Eijirou's nape and then carves a path with his lips into Eijirou's hair. The alpha lingers there and Eijirou hums, low in his throat - the sound comfortable and full.
They stay like that - heat banked, devotion burning slow - tangled in the quiet intensity of having finally arrived somewhere they belong. Katsuki clings to Eijirou. He craves the omega's touch and takes each opportunity that the other man allows to feel the redhead's skin against his own. Comfortable silence falls over the two of them and the alpha finds himself slowly drifting in and out of sleep. He fights against the heaviness of his eyelids and the supple warmth running through his veins - the blond determined to remain awake and present in each moment and sensation with Eijirou. But, light snores and the steady rise and fall of the omega's chest catches him off guard and a sudden realization hits him: Eijirou feels safe enough with Katsuki in his nest to fall asleep. And with that realization, Katsuki's resolve crumbles. Succumbing to the weighted exhaustion of his limbs, the alpha's eyes droop and then close as the siren song of sleep drags him under. Outside, the storm rages, while inside, something ancient and patient shifts, like the tide turning.
Warm, urgent hands roam over pale skin, starting the slow, hazy transition that draws Katsuki from deep sleep to consciousness. As the haze of sleep recedes, the alpha arches with the need evident in each touch. Touches that grow in their persistence and their possessiveness. As his eyes blink open, the blond takes in the way his quaint bedroom is aglow from the moon shining through the opening in his curtains. Tender pressure along his waist builds into frantic caresses that overwhelm the alpha's senses. Clawed fingers slip beneath the waistband of his jeans, catching on his skin as they urge the fabric lower. Katsuki hisses, angling his hips, but whether it's to chase or flee the pain, he can't be sure. Propping himself up on his arms, the blond's eyes land on the redhead nestling himself between the alpha's spread thighs. Balancing himself on one arm, Katsuki bites into his fist, fangs piercing the skin, as he grapples with the urge to openly moan at the vision of Eijirou spread out below him.
"Ei," Katsuki is breathless as blood trickles over his knuckles and down his wrist where his fangs continue to puncture the skin. Eijirou pauses, hands stopping mid-drag on the tight denim, and flicks his eyes upward, leveling the alpha with an expression that teems with smoldering desire and blatant want.
"Kat-su-ki," Eijirou lilts, voice breathy and teasing. Strong, tan fingers resume and double their efforts to remove the alpha's clothes and leave the smaller man bare. The alpha hunches forward, blood-covered fingers slipping underneath Eijirou's chin and tilting the omega's face up toward him. Katsuki uses his opposite hand to stay the other's ministrations.
"Use your words, Eijirou. You're usually so talkative. What's got you feeling shy, omega?"
Tone coy, Katsuki arches an eyebrow, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He watches as the larger man full-body shivers, releasing his hold on Katsuki's pants, so that he can prop himself up on his elbows. Black pupils widen, eclipsing the deep crimson as Eijirou peers up at the blond beneath long lashes. Sharp teeth play with a full bottom lip as the redhead whimpers, claws tracing down from the alpha's waist to grip at plush inner thighs. The omega inches closer until he can nuzzle against the growing bulge in Katsuki's jeans. Eyes alight with raw hunger gaze up at Katsuki as Eijirou finally speaks.
"You, alpha. I crave you. I ache for you. Please, touch me, taste me, take me. Have me in any way that you choose, but gods above and below, don't make me wait any longer."
A growl bleeds into a deep, rumbling moan as Katsuki cups Eijirou's face. His voice rich and low.
"Make yourself comfortable, omega."
Standing, Katsuki unzips his jeans, sliding them down his hips and thighs, then letting them pool at his feet. He steps out of them easily and pushes them to the base of the nest. His shirt and boxers quickly follow, leaving him bare and standing over Eijirou. In the nest under him, the omega balances on his hands and knees. Muscle flexing beneath tan skin as Eijirou forces himself into a deep arch. The scent of slick and sweat simmers in the air and on instinct Katsuki drops, kneeling behind the omega. Calloused fingers glide over muscular thighs, digging into ample flesh as they move toward Eijirou's slick-drenched folds. Acting on impulse, Katsuki buries his face between Eijirou's thighs, angling his neck so he can drag his thick tongue through the slick that continues to drip from Eijirou. Venom pools in the alpha's mouth and along his tongue as his claiming fangs fully drop from throbbing gums. Katsuki sucks on the omega's clit before nipping and teasing soaked folds. He leans back, spreading Eijirou apart, spitting directly into the omega's hole. The blond drags his fingers through his own spit before pushing them into the redhead's hole. Both men moan in unison and something deep within Katsuki unravels.
Easing his fingers out of Eijirou, Katsuki sits back on his haunches, voice gravel-rough and saturated with profound want.
"Eiji, omega, you present so well. But, I want to see your face when I claim what's rightfully mine."
Eijirou shakes, unsteady on all fours for a moment as Katsuki's impassioned words wash over him. Then, he moves, motion fluid, as he eases onto his back, opening his thighs wide. The alpha watches as Eijirou uses two thick fingers to tease himself, coating them in slick. Offering the digits to the alpha above him, Eijirou yelps as Katsuki lunges forward, licking along his fingers like a man starved. Bullying farther into the omega's space, the blond pushes until Eijirou folds in half beneath. Rutting his cock against Eijirou, Katsuki moans each time the head of his cock catches on the omega's fluttering hole. He cants his hips, thrusting only the head into Eijirou. The alpha relishes in the way that the omega squirms and whines beneath him. Broad hips curve upward, trying to force Katsuki's cock deeper. Katsuki braces one arm beside Eijirou's head, bending until his face hovers just above the omega's. His free hand trails down the other man's plush chest and over taunt abs before grasping his own cock to keep it from pressing further into the omega's heat.
"Beg for it, omega. If you want my cock, then beg."
Moaning, Eijirou arches his back, clinging to the clothes closest to him in the nest. The omega locks eyes with the alpha hovering mere inches from his face and whimpers. The noise draws out as it vibrates in the back of Eijirou's throat as he curls closer to Katsuki. Their lips brush against each other as Eijirou sighs, the words tumbling freely from his lips.
"Breed me, Katsuki. I feel empty, alpha. Please, I need you to fill me, knot me, claim me. I want to feel the hunger that I see every time you look at me."
Katsuki lets go of his cock, hand moving to tangle in Eijirou's hair as the blond thrusts his cock deep into the omega. He sets a ruthless pace, the sound of his balls and rapidly filling knot slapping against Eijirou's ass echoes throughout the room. The alpha snarls and continues to fuck in and out of the omega with fervor. Inhaling sharply, Katsuki basks in the way their scents swirl together. He open-mouth pants, venom and saliva dripping down his chin as he savors the way the deep scent of sun-warmed rocks and ocean brine melds with smoke and espresso.
"Let me taste you, alpha." Eijirou keens.
"Open your mouth, Eijirou."
Tongue lolling out, the omega preens, gazing up at Katsuki and admiring the way sweat rolls down his face and chest as he ruts into Eijirou with abandon. The alpha sloppily kisses his omega's open mouth, making sure to drag his claiming fangs over the other man's bottom lip. Pulling back, Katsuki admires the way Eijirou looks absolutely fucked out: pupils blown wide, body glossy with slick and sweat, and mouth open wide and waiting. Venom and spit pools on Katsuki's tongue and the smaller man allows it to gather until it risks running down his chin and chest in rivulets. Then, with no warning, the blond spits directly into the redhead's open mouth.
"Swallow, omega," Katsuki demands.
Slipping his lithe fingers between his and Eijirou's bodies, Katsuki strokes over the omega's clit in slow circles, teasing his sensitive nub with slow, deliberate pressure. The alpha's focus narrows to that single, electric point of contact and the intense heat enveloping his cock. Katsuki can feel the way his knot starts to catch on Eijirou's hole and he damn near whimpers at the all-consuming fire each sensation sends coursing through his veins.
"Fuck."
The word comes out equally debauched and devout as Katsuki fucks into Eijirou with renewed passion. He indulges in the way the omega's eyes roll back in his head as he swallows Katsuki's spit and venom. The alpha curses as Eijirou tightens around him and the alpha's thrusts become erratic. He's going to cum.
Dusty pink lips part, Katsuki trying to will the blood not currently filling his cock to get him to speak, but Eijirou's quicker.
"Knot me, alpha! Stuff me full. I want to cum while you fill me with your cum and fat knot."
Incoherent curses leave Katsuki in a rush as his thrusts quicken. The sound of their bodies colliding echoes in the alpha's ears as the omega under him screams for more. He lavishes his tongue over his own piercing, claiming fangs and trembles at the thought of biting Eijirou as the cum together.
Eijirou arcs his hips to meet Katsuki thrust-for-thrust. The omega's next words come out of him in a rush,
"Katsuki, alpha…my alpha, give your cum and your claim, please."
Those simple words push Katsuki over the edge. His knot sinks into Eijirou, locking them together, as he cums. Feeling Eijirou shuddering through his own orgasm, the alpha tilts his head and bites down on Eijirou's scent gland. He bites down until blood and scent oil fill his mouth. Katsuki moans, gulping down everything that Eijirou gives him, as the omega cries out underneath him. Savoring the moment, the alpha holds the omega to his chest then gently eases the other man's legs down around his hips. Katsuki turns them on their sides, so he doesn't hurt Eijirou with his knot. He licks over the bite mark on the omega's, making sure to soothe the mark with his tongue and lips. Nudging his nose along Eijirou's jaw, Katsuki chuffs softly. Eijirou turns, nuzzling against his alpha, scenting him lightly in the afterglow. He looks up at Katsuki, eyes half-lidded, an overly-satisfied smile spreading across his lips.
"You okay, omega?" Katsuki asks fondly.
Red hair brushes across Katsuki's chest as the omega nods.
"Yes, alpha."
Eijirou yawns and snuggles against the alpha's chest, drying spit and sweat be damned. A honeyed smile lights Katsuki's face as the alpha caresses the omega's face while the larger man struggles not to yawn into his chest.
"Sleep, omega. Rest, you're safe."
Morning light spills in slow and honey-gold through the thin gap in the curtains, warming the rumpled sheets and the quiet curve of two bodies reluctant to part. The air smells like sleep and sweat and something sweeter beneath it - like ash after fireworks, like rain on warm pavement. It is the kind of morning that feels earned.
Eijirou wakes first. He lies still, breathing in the steady weight of Katsuki draped half over him, an arm heavy across his waist, fingers curled possessively in his hair. Katsuki sleeps like he lives - intensely, yet unguarded in his exhaustion. His blond brow is smooth now, mouth softened, breath slow and even against Eijirou's collarbone. Eijirou tilts his head slightly, enough to feel the tender pull at his neck.
The mark there is unmistakable. Vivid, blooming against his skin, punctures deep and slightly red. Katsuki's claim sits at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, unapologetic. It aches in a way that makes his chest feel too full. Not pain, but something warmer - something grounding. He reaches up carefully, fingertips brushing the edges of it. The memory of last night flashes through him - heat and hands and breath, the way Katsuki had looked at him like there was nothing else in the world worth keeping.
Katsuki stirs. Red eyes open slowly, sharpness dulled by sleep. They take in the room first, then settle on Eijirou. The awareness shifts there - quick, assessing, then softer. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. His hands move instead, sliding up Eijirou's ribs, resting over his heart - a quiet confirmation: still here.
Eijirou smiles, small and unguarded. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss into Katsuki's hair, breathing him in. Katsuki exhales, the noise a low rumble, and buries closer for a moment before pulling away with a reluctant huff.
They disentangle slowly.
The floor is cool beneath their feet. Eijirou pulls on a loose pair of sweatpants that he fishes out of the nest, fabric brushing against the bandaged wound on his calf. The injury from yesterday pulls faintly, a reminder of piercing edges and worse possibilities. Katsuki notices immediately. His gaze drops, sharp again but not angry - assessing, focused.
In the kitchen, the world is quiet. There's little in the way of noise and hum from the sleepy seaside town outside. Katsuki moves with sleep efficiency, grinding beans and setting water to boil. Katsuki hands over a mug without looking at him, fingers brushing deliberately. Eijirou takes it with both hands, savoring the heat seeping into his palms.
They sit at the small table by the window. Sunlight catches in Katsuki's hair, turning ash-blond into something almost soft. Eijirou traces the rim of his mug, feeling the solid weight of it, the quiet between them that isn't empty. It's full of shared breaths, of the steady rhythm of two people no longer circling the same question.
Katsuki's eyes lift, drawn to the mark on Eijirou's neck again. Something settles in his expression. Satisfaction, yes - but also something gentler. Relief. Eijirou tips his head slightly, an offering. The morning air brushes over the bite, cool and sensitive. Katsuki's gaze darkens, then steadies. He reaches across the table, thumb grazing just beneath where the bite is beginning to bruise, careful not to press too hard.
A promise without words.
When the coffee finishes, Katsuki stands first. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with the first aid kit. He sits down at Eijirou's feet. The omega rolls his pant leg. The bandage around his calf is mostly clean, but due to be changed. Katsuki remains kneeling in front of him, movements precise. He peels the old dressing back carefully, jaw tightening at the sight of the healing wound. His fingers are warm and surprisingly gentle as he cleans it. The sting is brief. Eijirou watches the way Katsuki's brows draw together in concentration, the way he braces one hand firmly against Eijirou's knee to keep him steady. There is something intimate about this - more than the night before. The quiet tending. The deliberate care.
Katsuki smooths fresh gauze into place, securing it snugly, but not too tightly. His palm lingers there for a second, grounding, making sure. Eijirou's hand finds his hair, pushing through soft spikes. Katsuki leans into it despite himself, eyes closing briefly.
The wound is redressed. The coffee cups sit empty on the table. The sunlight shifts slightly, brighter now, filling the apartment with a pale gold glow.
Eijirou stands carefully as Katsuki rises, too. They hover for a second in that small space between movement and stillness. Then, Eijirou pulls him in - not desperate, not searching, but certain. Katsuki's hands slide around his waist easily like they belong there. The omega brushes his knuckles along Katsuki's jaw, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth like he's asking without words. The alpha's gaze flicks down to Eijirou's plush, kiss-bitten lips, then back up. He huffs quietly. It's unclear who leans in first, but their lips meet in a soft, deliberate kiss - no heat, no clash, only warmth. The kind of warmth that settles deep in the chest. Katsuki's hand finds Eijirou's chest, grounding himself with the thump of the other man's heartbeat beneath his fingers. The blond's touch is an unspoken declaration of just how much he needs the contact - how much he needs Eijirou. The kiss deepens slightly, still careful, still morning-tender. Katsuki sighs against Eijirou's mouth, barely audible, and it feels sacred - something given, not taken.
When they part, their foreheads rest together in the quiet of the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki catches sight of the clock: 7:17. He snorts. The omega blinks, following where the blond's sight rests on jarring green numbers nestled along the back of a clearly, oft-used oven. Red hair frames Eijirou's face, swaying with movement as he chuckles.
"You see that?"
Katsuki refuses to fight the bit of wonder laced in his voice. Eijirou grins, the expression rapidly turning sheepish.
"Seven. Seventeen." Katsuki makes a point of barely jerking his chin toward the clock. Eijirou sputters, his forehead still resting against Katsuki's.
"Kat..." The omega's voice tapers off, fond.
The alpha exhales through his nose, a sigh easing from his lungs. Eijirou cups Katsuki's jaw, strong fingers caressing the skin, his touch feather-light.
"Well," Eijirou says gently, tightening his hold, "look at me now. I'm exactly where I should be."
Katsuki feels it then - the quiet in the kitchen, the crumpled sheets and clothes in the nest on his bedroom floor, the sea breeze drifting through the cracked window. Eijirou is here. They spent the night tangled together, no rushing, no almosts.
The blond clicks his tongue, but his voice loses its usual bite.
"You're over a year late, idiot."
Eijirou beams. "Worth it?"
Turning in Eijirou's grasp, Katsuki presses a chaste kiss to the taller man's lips. He's unable to stop the grin from breaking across his face.
"Yeah," he whispers. "Perfect timing."
They laugh - quiet at first, then helpless, full of relief and something bigger than either of them. Outside, the town stretches into morning, unaware that in a small kitchen over a coffee shop by the sea, at exactly 7:17 a.m., all the waiting, all the ache of wanting, dissolves - and in its wake are two men who are right on time and exactly where they belong.