Chapter Text
Hands trembling, Izuku stares down at his phone, a numb sort of acceptance seeping into him.
Katsuki had hung up on him.
Izuku had called Katsuki, his supposed alpha, about the help he had been promised, and all he had gotten was a harsh, frustrated bark that Katsuki was busy and then the dial tone.
Irritated despite himself, despite knowing better, Izuku tosses his phone aside before throwing himself face down into his nest. He rears back up long enough to rummage for the single scent token from Katsuki he’d reluctantly tucked into the structure and then throws it over the edge to thump against the opposite wall with a hiss.
Izuku is not naive; he was never really allowed to be. No matter what Katsuki and his parents, or even Izuku’s own mother, have always thought, the world would have never allowed a quirkless male omega like Izuku to stay blind to the harshness of reality for very long.
So no, Izuku isn’t naive and he isn’t blind.
He knows good and damn well that his ‘relationship’, if it can even be called that, isn’t what it should be, knows that it’s far from good.
It’s something he’s been dealing with for years now, but for once, just once, he’d like it to somehow work out in his favor. Even if the relationship in question is also the root of his current problem.
Izuku doesn’t think it’s too much to ask after all of these years for Katsuki to finally do something for Izuku instead of just to him.
To be fair, a part of Izuku is sure that, despite their past and the cruelty that had underlined so much of it, Katsuki does actually care about him in his own way.
Not in the way he should, not in any way that Izuku honestly wants anymore, and most certainly not in any way that could be considered healthy, but it’s there.
Somewhere.
Beneath everything else.
Probably.
Regardless, Izuku should have expected this, should have somehow seen it coming. It’s not like this is really anything new where their situation is concerned. Izuku has always been the one to shoulder the burden of care between them, willingly or not.
From the time they were small, it has always been Izuku’s responsibility to manage Katsuki’s moods. His job to give up and give in, to bend, and eventually bend over a crude part of Izuku’s brain sneers, to Katsuki’s needs, his wants, his goals.
Izuku and everything he might want or need or dream about for himself has always come second.
From their teachers to their classmates, from strangers on the street all the way to Inko herself, everyone in their lives has always encouraged that sort of dynamic between them.
And Katsuki has always eaten it up.
It had, Izuku has learned over the years, just made sense to Katsuki from the beginning that Izuku’s only real lot in life, his only true achievement, would be to support Katsuki. To be a part of his perfect origin story and then his ideal life.
Because Izuku was the omega to Katsuki’s alpha, the gentleness to his roughness, the quirkless doll to his perfect-quirked future hero self, etc etc.
Even when the bullying and the cruelty had been at their worst, Katsuki had still kept a tight hold on Izuku. Katsuki had always been unwilling to let Izuku put any real distance between them, not even when Izuku had begged him to leave him alone. And no matter what he had done or how Katsuki had hurt him, he had always expected Izuku to stay by his side, to heel, to obey.
Now that he’s older, Izuku can admit that some of it, some of Katsuki’s entitlement and arrogance, was at least partially his own fault.
Because, for a long time, Izuku had actually played into and along with it.
When they were small, Izuku had gone along with it happily enough. He had been filled with sunshine and puppy love for his best friend. Had been utterly devoted to the one who had sworn they’d be the perfect hero duo and mated couple when they were older, the kind of pair that people envied and wrote stories about.
Then, once their separate realities had set in, Izuku had clung to what he had thought their connection was out of a desperate need for something, anything, in his life to remain the same.
Later, after the hurt and the scars had really started to pile up, Izuku had realized that Katsuki would never see him as anything more than something to own. He hadn’t actually wanted Izuku around, but he would have been enraged if Izuku had tried to step away of his own free will.
A child who didn’t care about a toy until it was missing, until someone else showed interest in it.
So Izuku had learned how to keep his head down out of self-preservation. He had taken the abuse and the sneers, the explosions and the cutting words, and he’d patiently counted down the days.
Even when their parents had gotten together and pushed for Izuku to accept Katsuki’s promise-bite in their first year of middle school, Izuku had held on to his determination.
Even when they’d ignored his protests and his research, had waved it off and insisted that it was the best thing for both of them.
Despite promise-bites being an archaic practice at their age, and proven to be utterly unfair and outright damaging for the omega of the pair when given so young.
Even with that set back Izuku had still pushed through.
Feeling just a bit betrayed, but knowing there was no real sense in dwelling on it, Izuku had simply gritted his teeth, choked back the hiss of rage that had been clawing at the inside of his chest, and done what was necessary to keep the peace.
Had bared his throat and allowed Katsuki to press cruel teeth into the fragile skin of his mating gland.
Then Izuku had spent a week shivering and shaking miserably as his body was thrown into a much too early faux-heat, hormones locking in on the promise-bite and uncaring that Katsuki was too young to fulfill it properly.
Uncaring that Izuku himself was too young to want it to be.
The promise-bite had done just as Izuku’s research had said, as science had proven, it would do.
It had forced Izuku into full hormonal maturity far earlier and far more viciously than his body was ready for or was meant to handle. Then he had been locked into that hormonally unbalanced state, his body struggling to regulate itself in ways that he was unable to handle properly as an adult omega typically would.
Once again all Izuku had been able to do was knuckle down and wait.
He isolated himself, locking himself away in his room for every agonizing heat his body wasn’t ready for. He ignored Inko’s pushing, Mitsuki’s proding, Masaru’s gentle complacency, and Katsuki as a whole to the best of his ability.
It had been Izuku’s hope that once they hit high school, once UA was in their sights, Katsuki would calm down. That with new challenges and fresh competition being dangled right in his face, Katsuki would finally loosen his grip. Would find other things and people to hold his attention, both good and bad.
Would, if luck were somehow on Izuku’s side, even decide to break their fledgling bond so he could move on to bigger and better things than Deku.
Izuku had been placing all of his chips on UA for years at that point and had been hoping, praying, that it would pay off.
And it had.
Perhaps not perfectly, but in far more ways than Izuku had actually dared to hope.
Katsuki might have swaggered into the heroics department’s practical exam all cocksure and certain of his impending victory, but Izuku had sat the general education exam with a diamond-hard and razor-sharp determination to succeed.
And he had.
The score Izuku had carved out for himself had been the beginning of his new life.
Because not only had Izuku blown the written test out of the water, but Nedzu had taken a special interest in Izuku’s ten-page essay about the heroic industry’s desperate need for systemic reform.
Izuku had been so nervous the first day of classes when he’d been ordered to report to Nedzu’s office instead of 1-C.
In the end, Izuku had left Nedzu’s office well after classes had ended for the day feeling as if, for the first time in his entire life, someone actually saw him.
And what’s more, he had also felt as if Nedzu liked what he saw.
Izuku had never actually gone to 1-C after that day.
Instead of going to his assigned homeroom, Izuku had been kept separate. Had been tucked close to Nedzu’s side, firmly under his guiding paw and isolated from the rest of the student body and the majority of the staff. The only people beyond Nedzu he’d ever been pressed to meet had been Hound Dog, Lunch Rush, and Recovery Girl.
While Izuku had mourned not getting to be taught by more heroes in the beginning, his sessions with Nedzu had more than made up for it. On rare occasions, Izuku had even been allowed to stay settled at his desk in the corner of Nedzu’s office, tucked away behind a privacy screen, when Nedzu had taken meetings.
Each lesson or task Nedzu had set him had been engaging and interesting, while their more casual downtime together had chased away the loneliness Izuku had been feeling for years.
Even when the principal had broached the one topic Izuku had been dreading discussing.
“You are promised?” Nedzu had asked over lunch roughly three months into Izuku’s first term. “Judging from the scar, for some time as well. It is unusual in humans these days to be promised so young, is it not?”
Izuku’s chopsticks had frozen over his meal. It had taken all of his self-control not to bring a hand up to cover the jagged bite on his neck. Izuku had taken great pains to cover it each day with the silk-lined black and gold modesty collar he’d saved up for months to have specially made.
It wasn’t shame that Izuku had felt every time he had seen the mark in the mirror, still as red and inflamed as the day he’d received it, but the emotion that had always welled up in his chest had kept close company with it.
“Not a blissful engagement then,” Nedzu had announced easily.
“No,” Izuku had answered after a long moment. “Just … expected.”
Nedzu had stared at him for a bit, black eyes watchful, and then he’d grinned, muzzle pulling back to expose needle-sharp teeth.
“I suppose that makes things easier in the long run.” Nedzu had finally said.
And that had been that on the subject.
Except that Nedzu had managed to get Izuku moved into on-campus student housing, the kind Nedzu had said was usually reserved for exchange students or UA’s rare ward, within the week.
Izuku had been given his own apartment, bank account, and room to breathe for the first time in his life.
Nedzu had never told Izuku the details of how he had managed such a thing.
Izuku had never cared to ask.
For three years Izuku had been as close to free as he had ever been in his life, only ever seeing Katsuki on weekends when Inko had pressed for Izuku to come home.
Those were, without a single doubt, the happiest years of Izuku’s life.
Then graduation had finally come.
Katsuki had thrown himself out of UA and directly into work as a pro-hero, somehow gaining a sidekick position with Best Jeanist, and hadn’t bothered to look back at Izuku.
Not that Izuku, happy to continue managing his increasingly unstable heats on his own despite the way his unfulfilled promise-bite ached a little harsher each time, had expected or even wanted him to.
Izuku had been too busy sinking his teeth into his second year of accelerated college courses that Nedzu had curated for him to honestly care.
Two more years and a degree in advanced analysis, as well as an Informational Heroics license, had seen Izuku quietly achieve his lifelong dream of being a hero.
Nedzu, the only one to actually know what Izuku had been working toward, had been the one to hand Izuku his shiny new card, The Can Do Hero: Dekiru emblazoned across the front. Then he had handed Izuku a ticket for Otheon, the keys to a modest house there, and had effectively banished him from Japan for an entire year to work as a liaison with the Otheon police.
Izuku had spent a year wandering Otheon, building a reputation and a network there, dodging Inko’s calls for him to return and learning what it meant to live somewhere Katsuki had never touched. He’d never managed to make any close friends, always too busy and generally wary, but he’d found a few people, police and heroes and food cart vendors he’d been passingly fond of.
Leaving had been bittersweet, but Izuku had also missed home, had missed Nedzu despite their lengthy weekly video calls and constantly updating message chain, enough that he’d packed up his life in Otheon without hesitation the moment Nedzu had called for him.
Besides, he had been looking forward to settling into the new, honestly too large for one person, luxury apartment Nedzu had insisted he take. The apartment was in the building Nedzu had built on campus while Izuku was gone. Izuku had spent many hours over video chat with Nedzu, going over design options, furniture, and furnishing choices in the months leading up to his return. He had been excited, and perhaps a little overwhelmed, by the idea of finally seeing the finished project in person.
Which had meant, of course, that Izuku had been back in Japan for less than a week, and utterly in love with his literal dream apartment, before Katsuki had reached out to him.
Izuku had been reluctant to reach back, more interested in preparing for his new position at UA since Nedzu had finally allowed Calculate-senpai, surprisingly still alive and somehow twice as rageful about that, to retire.
But the throbbing, burning ache of the promise-bite and the ever-increasing difficulty of his solo heats had convinced him in the end.
To Izuku’s surprise, Katsuki had been … calmer. More settled into himself. No less driven or determined than he’d ever been, but less casually cruel about it, less outwardly and eagerly vicious.
Some small part of Izuku had felt a shaky sort of hope begin to blossom. Not for a real relationship to somehow develop between them but that maybe, just maybe, Katsuki would finally let him go.
But as Izuku had soon realized, even with his ill-tempered brashness toned down or not, if there was one thing about Katsuki that had stayed the same over the years, it was his opinion on Izuku’s place in his life, his story.
Izuku had found himself sitting in a discreet cafe, hands clutching his hot chocolate, and listening with building dread as Katsuki went on and on about how it was time for them to start building a real life together.
About how now that Izuku was done with “whatever useless nerd shit you’ve been up to,” they should start working toward getting properly mated.
“You still want to mate me?” Izuku had asked through numb lips. “It-It’s been so long since we even talked, years really, that I thought maybe …”
“No shit, dumbass,” Katsuki had cut him off, the sneer on his face seeming more habitual than anything truly menacing. “Who the hell else is gonna do it, huh? You’ve been mine since we were fucking ankle biters. Makes sense to finally get on with it or whatever. It’ll look good when I finally leave Jeanist’s to start my own agency, and it’ll get the hag and Auntie off my back too. They keep bitching about you not being home where you belong. Maybe after a pup or two they’ll shut up.”
Izuku had known then and there, had felt the knowledge fully crystallize within him, that Katsuki was really and truly never going to let him go.
Katsuki might have calmed down enough for them to actually talk now without it devolving into a one-sided explosion-filled screaming match, but at the core he still saw Izuku the same as he always had.
As someone, something, to be owned.
Katsuki’s oldest and most familiar, but not most cherished, possession.
A wooden doll to be picked up and put down whenever the urge might strike him.
And there Izuku was, the promise-bite on his neck heavier than any weight and rattling like the chain it was, still trapped in so many of the ways that mattered and with no real way out at hand.
There were only three options for Izuku to worm his way out of the entire situation in a way that didn’t end with Katsuki’s mate mark on his throat or outright blood, his own or Katsuki’s, on his hands.
One, Katsuki rescinded the bite, withdrawing his promise of courtship and finally breaking their sickly wisp of a bond. Izuku would be looked down upon as a failed omega once word got out to the traditionalists in their childhood neighborhood that such a long-standing and respectable engagement had fallen through. Not that Izuku actually cared about that, not when it meant he would have his freedom at last. It would just give him another excuse to avoid visiting the area at all.
Two, Izuku found a stronger alpha willing and able to override Katsuki’s bite and mate Izuku, replacing the promise of a mating with an actual solid mate-bond instead. Something Izuku has fantasized about many times over the years, but had never seen as a realistic option for himself, given the circumstances. Most alphas wouldn’t look twice at someone with a promise-bite. The ones who did either weren’t looking for anything long-term or weren’t typically the type of person Izuku would ever want to mate anyway.
The final and most drastic option was for Katsuki to die. Izuku would suffer a bit of bond backlash, but the promise-bite would fade within the year, and Izuku would technically be considered widowed until he took a new mate. As an omega, Izuku would even be entitled to a hefty stipend since Katsuki had signed on with such a high-level hero’s agency.
Which was kind of amusing to think about, not that it really mattered since Nedzu had taken Izuku’s finances in paw years ago when he’d first handed Izuku a black bank card to support himself with during his years at UA.
But while it was honestly the cleanest and simplest of the three options, and despite Izuku’s frustration with the entire situation, he had never actually wanted Katsuki dead.
Away from him? Yes. Actually dead? Not outside of his darkest moments and never truly seriously.
Which meant that, until and unless the first two options somehow happened, Izuku was stuck.
All of which brings Izuku to where he is now.
A year later.
With Katsuki’s promise-bite still sitting, disturbingly inflamed and sore, on his neck.
Izuku has managed to push things back, has managed to hold off any more serious talk of mating despite pressure from both their mothers and Katsuki himself, but it’s gotten more and more difficult.
Not only because of Katuski’s ever-shortening patience and temper. Izuku has, after all, had years of practice dealing with those.
No, Izuku’s own body has decided to betray him once again instead.
Because for the last six months his cycles have been wild and unpredictable. His suppressants are no longer effective, and his system has started going haywire for no apparent reason.
His pre-heats, normally already unpleasant thanks to the promise-bite always aching to be fulfilled, have been worse than ever. Have left him uncomfortable and sore with his moods shot all to hell.
In fact, Izuku has been so generally and openly miserable that even the other teachers and staff have taken notice and started trying to coddle him between classes.
Kayama has brought him drinks more than once, while Yamada always seems to have some kind of snack or candy on hand to shove at him whenever they pass in the halls.
Although Izuku does suspect Nedzu’s paw at work there somehow, as both of their choices are always far too specifically tailored to his personal preferences and well coordinated between the two.
Even Kan who, after Izuku’s first week officially working at UA, had taken to avoiding him for some reason Izuku didn’t understand, had left an actual fruit basket on Izuku’s desk.
Although there had obviously been some kind of miscommunication in the staff room as, despite the note attached to the basket, it had ended up being moved off of Izuku’s desk and into the communal staff kitchenette instead. Izuku had gone to Nedzu’s office for a brief moment and had returned to a practically empty basket sitting beside the various coffee makers with only a few of Izuku’s least favorite fruits left in the bottom.
Even Eraserhead, or Shōta as he had insisted Izuku call him when they’d first met, someone normally so quiet and contained for an alpha but obviously very kind and protective beneath his gruff exterior, had stopped him a number of times.
Izuku admits that he’d gotten a thrill out of each bit of care Shōta showed him, a larger part of him than he wants to admit longing for it to be real. To mean something more than simple kindness.
But Izuku has always been quick to tuck those thoughts down and away. Izuku is a number of years younger than Shōta, a net positive in his opinion but likely not in Shōta’s.
Plus, Shōta was obviously far too good a man to ever even think about approaching someone with a promise-bite seriously.
Even when Shōta had taken it upon himself to bring Izuku meals from the cafeteria during lunch hours and warm tea whenever their paths crossed, Izuku had made sure to remind himself that it wasn’t courting behavior.
It was just one UA hero looking out for another, one member of the loose workplace pack Nedzu had built amongst his staff being kind to another, just like when Yamada and Kayama fussed over him
Even if it was extra hard to hold onto that sort of thought when Shōta so effortlessly wrecked Izuku’s calm. Such as how, on the day before Izuku’s heat leave was scheduled to start, Shōta had stopped him, much to Izuku’s flustered shock, just long enough to put one large, delightfully calloused hand against Izuku’s forehead to check his temperature.
But, surprisingly sweet and occasionally fantasy-inducing coddling aside, far worse than Izuku’s general day-to-day misery is how absolutely excruciating his last two full-blown heats have been.
Not only had they both lasted twice as long as they should have, six agonizing days instead of the standard three, but they’d grown harder and harder for Izuku to continue weathering alone.
His last heat had left Izuku shaking and panting in his sweat and slick drenched nest, keening for an alpha that didn’t actually exist while mentally and emotionally rejecting the one he technically should be calling for. Unable to find even the shallow sort of relief that had helped him survive every other heat he’d ever experienced.
The promise-bite had been a burning, aching brand on his throat the entire time.
Sometimes, Izuku had almost been sure that something was writhing beneath his skin, desperate to break free. The only way that Izuku had refrained from clawing at it worse than he had was because he’d been too weak to move much by the end.
Izuku had ended up sending a distress call to Nedzu who had arrived promptly, one of his personal helper bots in tow, and cared for him during the last sixteen or so hellish hours.
Izuku had required an additional two days to recover.
This next heat, Izuku knew, was going to be worse.
So much worse, in fact, that Chiyo-sensei had not only refused to prescribe him stronger suppressants when she’d topped up his birth control, but she had also bluntly told him to find someone to heat-share with. Either a new alpha to outright mate with or the owner of his promise-bite to help keep him stable.
It was either that or risk further damage to his already fragile system from the extreme hormone imbalance and stress his body has already been suffering under and would soon be freshly subjected to. If it kept up there was a chance that Izuku’s ability to bond or even to carry one day could be impacted.
Izuku had been tempted to ignore her order, tempted to just knuckle under and deal with the pain, but …
Izuku had only ever really talked about it seriously with Nedzu in the past when they’d discussed his future plans, but he would actually like to have pups of his own one day.
Maybe.
If the right partner were to come along.
Or maybe even if they didn’t.
But Izuku, unfortunately, doesn’t actually have a strong, virile alpha on tap that is ready and willing to blissfully mate him. And murder, while easy to commit and easier to get away with, was something he tended to avoid doing.
So he had been forced to reach out and actually arrange things with Katsuki instead.
Izuku had a chastity collar ready to go to prevent an actual mating bite from happening, but he still needed Katsuki’s presence, his familiar too-sweet scent, and alpha pheromones to hopefully even him out enough to prevent real damage.
Izuku had still agonized about the situation for weeks until he’d finally given in and approached Katsuki, aware of how quickly his time was running out.
Katsuki had been smug but accepting, and had even agreed to Izuku’s stipulations about his chastity collar easily enough. There had been a familiar alpha-arrogant kind of glint in his eyes that Izuku was sure meant that Katsuki was confident he could somehow persuade a heat-drunk Izuku to take the chastity collar off.
Izuku knew better. Heat-drunk or not, the promise-bite flooding Izuku’s brain with chemical signals that clamored for the alpha that had created it and no other or not, Izuku knew what and who he did and did not want.
Izuku’s heart and mind refused to allow his body to tie him to Katsuki forever just because his system had been damaged and manipulated as a child.
But if that was what Katsuki needed to believe, then Izuku was willing to let him.
So as long as he showed up and did what Izuku needed him to do for once.
The arrangement had been set, the details hammered out, and all that had been left was the waiting.
And yet here Katsuki is, after all these years of pressure, after a lifetime of expectation and entitlement, blowing the entire thing off the one and only time Izuku has ever asked him for help.
It just reinforces Izuku’s belief that no mating between them could ever possibly be a good one.
Izuku debates calling Nedzu but eventually waves the idea off. He is just going to have to do what he’s been doing this entire time. Ride it out on his own, even though it hurts and hope for the best.
Izuku is good at that by now.
Besides, he’d rather not bother Nedzu again until he absolutely has to. If all else fails, Izuku always has his panic button hung from a hook right above the inner wall of his nest.
Plus, it’s not like either of them still bothers to pretend that Nedzu hasn’t been passively monitoring Izuku’s vitals for years now. Izuku had caught on to Nedzu’s sneak injections sometime during his second year and has been looking the other way ever since.
“No sense in wasting time,” Izuku finally huffs to himself, rubbing his cheek against the downy nesting mattress, the exact one he’d gushed to Nedzu about, for a few more seconds before pushing himself up onto his knees.
Izuku climbs over the edge of his nest and reaches up to disengage the chastity collar covering his throat so he can toss it back into its case. The collar is one of Nedzu’s designs, a sleek black-and-gold detailed set of interlocking plates that, once fully locked into place, covers Izuku from below just his jaw to the tops of his shoulders.
Izuku had spent a good five minutes admiring it in the bathroom mirror when he’d first snapped the thing on. When Nedzu had declared his intent to provide him with a biometrically locked chastity collar, Izuku hadn’t been expecting a proper high-tech gorget.
Although Izuku probably should have. Nedzu had informed Izuku during that same conversation that his hero uniform would be getting an upgrade as well. Granted, Izuku’s uniform is just a fitted and reinforced black three-piece suit, as he tends to stay on the information and analytics side of things, much like Nedzu himself. Despite that, Izuku is still fairly sure the gorget is heroics-grade and likely meant to be added to his official uniform.
Either way, it is thankfully comfortable despite its size, even if Izuku had only put it on in anticipation of Katsuki being around.
So, technically, Izuku is now in the clear to remove it.
And yet his hands hesitate.
Because Izuku also remembers how he’d clawed at the promise-bite during his last heat. How he’d dug his nails into his own neck deep enough that Nedzu had pressed him to see Chiyo-sensei to get the scratches healed once he was fit for visitors again.
The chastity collar, with its complete coverage and durability, would be more than enough to prevent that, or something worse, from happening again.
Resigned to spending his heat collared despite being alone, Izuku sets about finishing up his few remaining preparations.
He can already feel the edges of his heat creeping closer, the ache in the promise-bite that has been twinging higher now paired with the way his stomach has started clenching rhythmically.
Izuku’s already been in pre-heat for two whole days so it won’t be long now, an hour or two at most, before the first waves of his true, and sure to be agonizing, heat start to crash into him.
Now that Katsuki has decided to disappoint Izuku yet again, he needs to up his stock of supplies near his nest since he won’t have anyone around to provide for him. Or, more accurately, to ferry supplies to him from the kitchen where Izuku had already laid everything out. Izuku had never actually expected Katsuki to literally provide for him like a proper alpha would want to.
Another box of peach jelly pouches, the only flavor he can stand during his heats since his go-to grocery store had been out of the watermelon he normally favors. A few more bags of various trail mixes and jerky for when he needs something heavier to bite into. An entire extra case of Omegalyte because Izuku has always been extra prone to dehydration, thanks to having a ramped-up slick-production response. A large packet of wet wipes and a bundle of ultra-soft, extra-absorbent wash cloths round out the supply run.
Once he has everything moved and stacked within easy reach, Izuku scoops his phone back up.
He ignores the various unread messages, uninterested in more of Inko’s attempts to persuade him to ‘come home’, and instead switches the entire thing over to do not disturb before tossing it back down. It’s a quick half step to reach the nest-side cubby where he’d placed the master tablet connected to the Nedzu-built security system that’s wired throughout his apartment.
Izuku makes short work of removing the temporary approval he’d granted Katsuki earlier in the day, going so far as to re-block him entirely. He toggles the security system onto the high-alert heat-safety setting Nedzu had built into it. He waits long enough to see the reinforced blinds begin to lower over the windows and to hear the heavy-duty door locks all engage, before setting the tablet back into its dock.
Only two people have access to his apartment now. Considering one of the two is him and the other is Nedzu, Izuku’s not worried about any poorly timed visitors.
Izuku is safe now, is as secure and reassured of his privacy as he can possibly be outside of UA proper.
With one last glance around, Izuku toggles the lights down to the soft, twilight shadows that his instincts have always preferred before stripping down, tossing his clothes to the side, and climbing back into his nest. He pulls one of his softest blankets up over him and does his best to snuggle down.
If Izuku’s lucky, he might even fall asleep for a while and be able to nap through the first few waves.
~~~
Izuku isn’t lucky.
He wakes sometime later with his body aflame, pain raking sharp claws down his spine, twisting his gut and beating a sick and steady rhythm against the side of his neck.
Alone in his nest, locked safely away from the world, Izuku keens and wails for an alpha that will never come.
Yearning for something that does not exist.
For things he can not have.
His mind slips away from him bit by bit, eaten by the heat and the pain, leaving only instinct behind.
~~~
He smells it first.
The creeping scent of leather and nighttime, of something that just makes his spine tingle and his instincts whine.
And beneath it all, the biting musk of alpha.
Older.
Matured and settled.
Strong.
Familiar, intriguing, enjoyed even but …
Not right.
Not the too-sweet heat of his unwanted promised-alpha.
Not the wildness and tea leaves of Chaos-sire-not-sire.
So …
An intruder.
An unwelcome, uninvited alpha trespassing in his den that was supposed to be locked down and completely safe.
The promise-bite flares angrily, the scent of the alpha-intruder so close while the mating heat rages sending lashes of punishing agony rushing outward.
He swallows the pain as he always does, body moving to curl against the inner wall of his nest, hissing out a warning growl as he moves.
Then …
A low, coaxing purr echoes back to him as red eyes shine over the far edge of his nest.
Too close.
He hisses, a vicious yowl echoing around the den.
Red eyes blink and then retreat, moving a few feet back and away from the nest wall.
The move is unexpected enough that it causes his growl to falter.
An alpha that stops, that retreats, from a heat-nest filled with an unguarded omega?
Unusual.
Interesting.
He chirps, a small inquisitive sound.
Another rumbling, coaxing, purr answers him.
Then something sails over the edge of his nest and lands beside him with a small thump.
The scent of wildness and tea leaves fills his senses.
Chaos-sire-not-sire.
He purrs.
Intruder-alpha purrs as well, but notably doesn’t move closer.
He grabs the thing, a large plush mouse, and curls around it, stomach clenching and body aching.
The extra dose of familiar, trusted, scent helps to push the agony of the promise-bite down just a bit further, even as his brain sluggishly begins to make connections.
Intruder-alpha has gifted him a scent token that carries Chaos-sire-not-sire’s scent embedded in every piece of it.
Intruder-alpha must have been sent by Chaos-sire-not-sire to guard him.
Intruder-alpha must be safe.
He lets out another questioning chirp.
Guard? His call asks.
Safe. Intruder-alpha answers back. Guard. Protect. Forever.
Satisfied for the moment and still curled around the scent-token, he closes his eyes and braces for the next wave of pain and need that will, as always, go unanswered.
~~~
The next time he opens his eyes intruder guard-alpha is closer than before.
Eyes gleaming back at him from right over the edge of the nest again instead of from across the room.
Safe. Guard-alpha rumbles out again. Forever.
His eyes close.
A soothing purr fills the den.