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Katsuki knows it’s none of his business what his interns get up to in their free time.
Still—
He never liked that Shindou kid.
And they’re technically on the clock for another ten minutes.
So. When he sees him taking Shouto aside, he decides to stick around. Shouto’s an omega. You never know. Young alphas don’t know how to mind their teeth yet. Today might be the day Katsuki’s gotta teach the Shindou brat how to act right.
Especially considering he’s leaning a hand against the wall right next to Shouto’s head, who does that little fucker think he—
“Um,” says Shouto, just loud enough for Katsuki to pick up on, “thank you, senpai, but I can’t go out with you.”
Damn right, Katsuki thinks.
Shouto shouldn’t go out with these brats. He shouldn’t pay any attention to them. Shouto should, you know, keep making those cupcakes he brings into the agency even if they’re a little crooked and the frosting colors bleed because he’s trying to learn how to bake from his older sister, and he should keep blushing all pretty when Katsuki says thanks, kid and reaches for one and takes a bite right in front of him.
Because that’s how it goes.
They’ve got a system here.
And the Shindou brat should keep his nose out of it. And his vibrating body parts. Actually—especially his vibrating body parts.
“Aw, man,” he says. “Are you sure?”
“Mm,” Shouto says. Katsuki can practically hear the frown. “We can’t go out. Because—because I’m saving my first kiss for Dynamight-san. And if we go out, you might try to kiss me, so. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“To Dynamight?” says Shindou. “But he’s old.”
“I know,” Shouto says. He lets out a little sigh. “I think that’s why I like him? He’s so mature, you know. And his arms are so big, and—do you remember when I sprained my ankle, and he carried me back to the agency? He was so warm, and he smelled so good, and I’m—”
“I get it, I get it,” the Shindou brat says, lifting both palms up. “You don’t have to rub it in, you know. Just—be safe, okay? Older alphas can be a lot to deal with.”
“Oh,” Shouto says. “I don’t mind if it’s Dynamight. I can take it.”
Which—
Well, now Katsuki’s the one feeling lightheaded with his teeth too sharp inside his mouth, so. So much for knowing how to handle himself now that he’s older.
Not that he’s old. That damn brat can shove it. He’s not even twenty-seven yet.
And Shouto’s going to be eighteen in January, so.
Is it that bad?
Probably not, right?
“Yeah,” Shindou says dejectedly. “Good luck with that, Todoroki.”
And then, because the heavens are kind to Katsuki, he fucks right off.
Shouto’s standing there with his little cat messenger bag and his U.A. uniform on and this pout on his soft mouth like he feels bad just for saying no to something he didn’t want to begin with, and—
And Katsuki, despite his best efforts, is only a man.
"Hey kid,” he says. “You need a ride?”
“Dynamight,” Shouto yelps, cheeks pinkpinkpink. “Were you here all this time?”
“Nah,” Katsuki says. “Just noticed you standing there all alone and figured it’s not very hero-like of me to let on omega go home on his own this late.”
“Well,” Shouto says, “you are my favorite hero.” And then, a little softer, “Don’t tell Touya-nii.”
Katsuki could eat him up. Swallow him in fewer bites than those little cupcakes Shouto brings in. But he shouldn’t. He should be good and heroic and respectable instead, and, like, not dream about Shouto’s soft, pink mouth with a hand wrapped around his swollen knot.
So maybe he’s already a few tiers below bare minimum.
“I think your big brother might punch me if he knew,” Katsuki says. “Would chase me down for sport.”
“I just like you,” Shouto says. “You’re nice to me.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks. “Is that all it takes? You gonna let me keep being nice and take you home?”
“Um,” Shouto says. “Well, U.A. isn’t that far. You just take the train. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s the weekend,” Katsuki says. “You’re not going home?”
Shouto’s pretty eyes dart away. “Nii-san left for that conference abroad,” he says. “The one in America? I usually stay with him if I go home on the weekends. So. Um. Yeah. I’d be going back to U.A. It’s okay, I have my friends.”
“At least let me make you dinner,” Katsuki blurts, like a fool and an idiot. “Can’t let you spend the weekend subsisting on instant noodles. Not in good conscience.”
“My friend Momo and I are trying to learn recipes together,” Shouto says. “So it wouldn’t be just instant noodles. She’s good at making tea. And we’d at least make a salad, you know. For the vitamins.”
Fuck, Katsuki thinks helplessly. He’s fucking adorable.
“That’s it,” he says. “You’re coming with me, kid. No protesting.”
“You really don’t mind?” Shouto asks, eyes all big and wide. He bites his bottom lip. “Not even a little?”
“Not even a little,” Katsuki says indulgently. “Not for pretty omegas like you.”
And that’s probably shooting himself in the foot, but Shouto’s mouth parts, and he lets out this soft little oh, and then he starts purring right there, and it’s honestly pretty damn nice, so.
Maybe it’s worth Katsuki making a fool of himself.
“On your bike?” Shouto asks. “Is that how we’re getting there?”
“Why?” Katsuki teases. “Can’t you hold on tight?”
“Mm,” Shouto says, more pink blooming on his soft cheeks. “Okay, I’ll try my best. But you can’t make fun of me, I've never been on a bike before.” His nose scrunches. “Well, at least not one with an engine. But I was pretty bad at balancing on a regular one too.”
“Don’t worry,” Katsuki says. “I’ll drive real careful just for you.”
“That feels like you’re already making fun of me,” Shouto says. “Don’t be mean.”
“What?” Katsuki teases. “You tired? You want me to carry you to the parking lot?”
Katsuki doesn’t mind. He could spoil him. He could do a real good job, and then Shouto would get used to asking for what he wants instead of just blushing and pouting, and Katsuki would give it to him, and, who knows, if luck is on his side, he might even get to punch Endeavor while he’s at it.
That would be pretty nice.
But, right now—
“Nuh uh,” Shouto whines. “Camie will make fun of me if she sees. She says you’re always giving me special treatment.”
“Well,” Katsuki laughs, “she’s not wrong, exactly. Just damn nosy.”
Shouto laughs. “Can we go?” he says. “I’m hungry. And it’s going to be really embarrassing if my stomach starts growling. I might actually have to quit and go intern for nii-san like he wanted.”
“You’d break my heart like that?” Katsuki asks. “Even after I make you dinner?”
And, because he can, he scoops Shouto up anyway. And he gets to relish in the little whine Shouto lets out and the way his scent gets all pleased, just for a second, while he wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck to hold on tight.
“Dynamight-san,” he says, “now everyone will make fun of me.”
“Don’t worry,” Katsuki says. “We’ll just tell them you sprained your ankle again. We’ll say there was a kitten stuck on a tree. That’ll get people to buy it.”
“I think I’ll bump you back to second place,” Shouto says sternly. “On my favorite hero list. Because you’re bullying me too much. You’re not even in your hero gear, don’t you think people can tell?”
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Katsuki laughs. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”
“Soba,” Shouto says. “I want soba for dinner.”
“Sure,” Katsuki says. “Anything you want.”
“That easy?” Shouto asks. “Really? But last week you told Red Riot all that hair gel had gotten to his brain just because he tried to take over one of your patrol areas for the day?”
And—
Yeah, but they’re talking about Shouto, so.
It is that easy. Pretty much always. Katsuki thought his pretty boy figured it out already, and that’s why he kept bringing leaning cupcakes and only conceptually animal-shaped cookies to the agency.
Because, you know.
“Come on,” Katsuki says. “Let’s get you home.”
Shouto lets out another soft little purr. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”
...
Miraculously, they make it on Katsuki’s bike.
Even if Shouto pouts when Katsuki fastens the spare helmet for him and he pouts when Katsuki gives him his jacket because he doesn’t want Shouto catching a cold and he definitely pouts when they get caught in the rain right outside Katsuki’s building and they have to make a run for it.
It’s not too bad.
Shouto’s laughing, and his cheeks are flushed, and his hair is damp with rain water, and it takes him an extra second after they get inside to stop holding Katsuki’s jacket over his head like a makeshift umbrella, and then he straightens up and tries to give it back and says thank you, alpha, and—
“What did you just call me?”
“Sorry,” Shouto blurts, “I think about it a lot, so it slipped out. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“You think about me being your alpha?” Katsuki asks. “Is that it, pretty boy?”
“Um,” Shouto says. “Only a little bit? I try not to, but it’s your fault.”
“Right,” Katsuki says. “Let me guess. Because I’m nice to you?”
“And because you’re handsome,” Shouto says. “I like your hands.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm, a lot.”
“Anything in particular you like about them?”
“Mean,” Shouto whines. And then, softer, “You know already.”
Katsuki could probably guess, yeah. He could indulge himself and picture just why Shouto likes his hands so much. If he hugs a pillow in bed late at night and thinks of Katsuki touching him, of Katsuki running calloused fingers along the insides of his thighs and then pressing his thumb directly over Shouto’s twitching clit through his damp panties and calling him a good little omega, and then he’ll make a mess without even touching himself.
Maybe he does touch.
Maybe he rubs his clit until it’s puffy and slick, and then he bites his lip to keep quiet so nobody hears.
“You still hungry?” Katsuki asks. “Go take a shower, I’ll leave out some clean clothes for you and get started on dinner.”
That, or you know—
Bend Shouto over the kitchen island if he keeps looking up at him like that and pouting with those soft mochi cheeks of his.
“Alright,” Shouto says. “Thank you.”
...
The reality of things, it turns out, is much worse than Katsuki’s guilty daydreams of bending Shouto over in his little U.A. uniform.
Because he’s not even wearing it when he steps out of the shower. No, instead, he’s got a towel wrapped around his neck, damp hair still dripping water, and precisely nothing on except the shirt Katsuki gave him, long enough for the hem to reach mid-thigh on his smaller body.
He’s wearing panties, probably. Most likely. For Katsuki’s health and wellbeing.
Because he does almost chop his finger off prepping veggies for the side dishes anyways, at the first sight of him.
“Um,” Shouto says. “Your sweatpants were too big on me. They kept falling off even after I tied them tight.”
“Your soba’s ready,” Katsuki says. “Come sit. Eat a lot, okay? Growing omegas need it.”
“I’m not a kid,” Shouto huffs, even as he walks over and takes a seat and scoots his chair in to get comfortable. “You shouldn't treat me like one.”
“Right,” Katsuki says. “My bad. You’re all grown up, princess. That’s why that Shindou brat was drooling over you today.”
“Oh,” Shouto says, face getting pinkpinkpink again. “Senpai was just—”
“I think I could guess,” Katsuki says. “Alphas aren’t that hard to figure out.”
He sets the bowl down in front of Shouto, maybe just a little too hard, and he considers the merits of accidentally almost chopping another finger off instead of making himself a (considerably spicier) bowl of soba and keeping Shouto company for dinner.
He decides to spare his limbs and risk his dignity instead.
Just then, Shouto says, nose scrunched, “Even you?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki admits. “Hell, kid, I’m probably the worst of them.”
Shouto shakes his head. “No,” he says. “You’re not.”
Katsuki laughs. “And why’s that?” he says. “Because I made you dinner?”
“Because you’re kind,” Shouto says. “Because—because you say you’re bad with kids, but you always let them hold your hand during rescue missions, and you tell them stories, and you—you don’t yell. You never yell. Even if they get snot on your hero suit. You just—okay, the rest of the interns are a little scared of you, and Camie says I don’t know any better because I’m—because I like you, but you just—you earn it. Everything you do, you make sure you do it well, and you take care of people, you take care of—of what’s yours, and I want—ah, it’s silly.”
“What?” Katsuki says. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
Shouto’s foot nudges his shin under the table. “Ah,” he says, “it really is embarrassing for omegas.”
“What if I guess?” Katsuki asks. “Is that less embarrassing for you?”
Shouto slurps his soba. “Mm,” he says through chipmunk cheeks. “Okay, yeah. But do I still get to finish my soba?”
“Eat,” Katsuki says. “Don’t worry about me. You can kick me if you want, okay?”
Shouto’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would I kick you?” he asks. “I already told you. I like you a lot.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks. “Enough to give me that kiss you were saving?”
Which—
Might actually count as pathetic grovelling on his part, but, you know.
It’s Shouto.
“So you were listening,” he huffs. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Self-preservation,” Katsuki says. “Heroes need a bunch of it.”
“Is that so?” Shouto asks. “And when you take me home and make me dinner and let me borrow your clothes? What’s that called?”
“I think that’s called whatever your pretty face does to dumb alphas, princess.”
Shouto pouts. “You’re not dumb,” he says. “You’re my favorite. And you make great soba. And—”
He leans across the table mid-word, and he smells like Katsuki’s shampoo, and he’s wearing Katsuki’s clothes, and he’s perfect, and he tastes, Katsuki finds out, exactly like strawberries.
Like his scent.
All soft and sweet.
“There,” Shouto whispers. “No takebacks.”
Katsuki’s canines prick his tongue, too sharp inside his mouth just from how sweet Shouto smells. So he pulls him in with a hand on the back of his neck and kisses him for real. Parts Shouto’s pink lips and thinks you’re mine now, thinks I'm never letting you go thinks what if I kept you forever, just like this?
He could.
He could keep Shouto home, just like this. In his clothes. In his bed.
Would he like that? Would he stay and wait for Katsuki to come home like a dutiful wife? Would he burn dinner?
Katsuki doesn’t think he’d mind if he did.
Shouto lets out a little whine into his mouth. “Mean,” he says, pulling back. “This is—ah, this isn’t fair. I can’t be mad at you like this.”
“Are you mad?” Katsuki asks. “Really?”
“A little bit,” Shouto says. “You lured me here under false pretenses.”
“Hey,” Katsuki huffs. “I promised dinner. And I made you dinner.”
“But you didn’t say anything about kissing. That was my first kiss.”
“And your second,” Katsuki points out. “You want a third?”
Shouto swats at his chest. “It’s still raining outside,” he says. “Can I stay the night?”
“What do you take me for, huh? You think I’d let you leave?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” Shouto admits. “Can we cuddle?”
“Depends. You mind ending up with a bite, kid?”
He could. He’d mind his teeth, because Shouto deserves it. Because Shouto deserves to be handled carefully. But he could bite him. And then he could keep him.
“I think,” Shouto says carefully, “that we should probably hold hands first.”
“And then we cuddle?” Katsuki says indulgently. “Is that your long-term plan?”
“Mm,” Shouto says. “Cuddling seems pretty nice, yeah. But I’m going to finish my soba. Because my alpha made it for me.”
...
So.
They cuddle.
Shouto fits perfectly in the empty space in Katsuki’s bed, curled up, small and soft, in Katsuki’s arms.
“Can we do this again?” he whispers, clutching Katsuki’s wrist in the dark.
Yeah, Katsuki thinks. I’m gonna keep you forever.
But he just kisses the top of Shouto’s head and tells him, “We can do whatever you want, princess.”
And they fall asleep like that. Together.