Work Text:
"You're in preheat, Kacchan."
"Am not."
"Are to."
"You can't prove that."
Izuku raises an eyebrow and brings his hand up to tap the back of Katsuki's hand pointedly. "See? Kacchan's still scenting me." Katsuki doesn't move his wrist from its fixed position on the scent gland at the base of Izuku's neck, just scowls and keeps rubbing the spot in slow strokes.
"So? I scent you every day, doesn't mean shit."
"But, Kacchan," Izuku says, pulling Katsuki's hand away from his neck and towards his face. "You've been doing it for five minutes. And Kacchan was only supposed to put on my tie, I haven't even said bye yet." Izuku presses Katsuki's wrist against his nose, inhaling deeply, and groaning as he exhales. "Plus, you smell so sweet, like, seriously—like caramel. Kacchan always smells like this before his heat hits, he gets all clingy and grumpy and cute. And his slick tastes—“
"Enough," Katsuki huffs, pulling his arm from Izuku's grasp so he can continue his ministrations on the other side of the alpha's neck. "Keep it for your freaky little notebooks."
"But Kacchan likes when I tell him how good his slick is, it always makes you wetter." The words burn through Katsuki because he knows they're true, his pussy never has a problem showing Izuku the words Katsuki can't always say. As if eager to prove his point, Izuku cups Katsuki through his boxers, and Katsuki can feel the way he throbs in response. "See? You already have a heartbeat here."
Katsuki inhales sharply, a noise getting caught in his throat when Izuku grinds his palm down against his clit, and he's torn between rocking down against the pressure and moving away from it.
Izuku decides for him, walking backwards towards their bed, before he sits down and pats his knee expectantly. "If you don't wanna believe it, I can show you that you're in preheat. I bet you'll get so much slick on my pants that I'll have to change." Izuku's eyes get a little glossy, like he's out of it, and he continues in a dreamy voice, "I'll smell like Kacchan all day."
"Dumb alpha, like you'd let any of your corkers smell my slick and not kill them." Izuku nods his head in blind agreement, his lips parting slightly like he's trying to taste Katsuki's slick in the air. He walks towards Izuku, ready to straddle his knee before he's stopped by a hand to his stomach and a whine.
"Kacchan. Your boxers. Please."
Katsuki rolls his eyes, sliding his underwear off and throwing them haphazardly behind his shoulders. He settles on Izuku's thigh with his arms around Izuku's shoulders, and smirks in gratification when warm hands instantly fall to his waist. "It's like you want to be late for work."
Izuku encourages Katsuki's hips forward into a slow roll, hums appreciatively at the gasp it knocks out of Katsuki, and replies very seriously, "My most important job is taking care of my omega."
Katsuki knows Izuku means that, he proves it every day. Anything Katsuki wants or Izuku thinks he needs, he gets. Whether it's words, actions, material items, or orgasms, Izuku delivers in spades. He's not exactly surprised that Izuku would risk being late in order to get drenched in slick, his alpha is nothing if not obsessed with him.
"Then take care of your omega," Katsuki murmurs in Izuku's ear, nipping his earlobe. "Kacchan hurts right here. C'mon, I-zu-ku, make your Kacchan feel better." Katsuki drags his cunt against the fabric of Izuku's dress pants pointedly, smearing his slick on it and beginning to darken the cloth. Izuku groans, digging his thumbs harder into Katsuki's sides.
Izuku's forehead drops and bumps his jaw, hot puffs of air sliding underneath the neckline of Katsuki's loose shirt. He shivers at the sticky feeling, heat steadily creeping up his neck and pooling in his gut.
It disgusts him how easy he is for Izuku.
Izuku starts guiding his hips in languid, steady motions, and Katsuki can feel the slick oozing out of him. The cloying, rich scent of warmed caramel begins to fill the air and coat the inside of Katsuki's nose. Izuku lifts his head and presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of Katsuki's jaw, the loud, smacking noises burning his ears.
"Kacchan feels better, right? I can already smell how much you like it," Izuku coos, sliding a hand from Katsuki's waist down to the swell of his hip, and squeezing tight. He increases the rhythm just enough to emphasize the effortless glide of Katsuki's pussy on his pants, and breathes into Katsuki's ear, "See how nice and wet Kacchan got me? How easy it is for him to rub his pussy all over me? It's because you're in preheat."
Katsuki draws back and scoffs, "Fine, I'm in preheat. You gonna do anything about it, nerd? It's not like you have time to knot me, much less satisfy me." He knows Izuku is more than capable of meeting his needs and arriving at work in a timely fashion, but he wants it a little dirty. A little condescending. He wants Izuku to prove why Katsuki is wrong.
Izuku frowns, pinching his brows together. "That's not very nice, Kacchan. I don't need to knot you to take care of you." He shakes his head in mock disappointment, grabbing Katsuki's hips with both hands and rocking them forward harshly. "I thought Kacchan knew that, but I guess he needs to be reminded."
Izuku shifts his thigh higher, pressing Katsuki's cunt harder against the fabric, forcing his hips into a filthy, insistent pace. The friction of the cloth on Katsuki's clit is mind-numbing, the glide easy but still on the edge of too much, pleasure dipping into pain. It has him clenching around nothing and feeling the edges of an orgasm sooner than should be reasonable.
A fresh wave of slick gushes out of him when Izuku pushes two fingers into his lips, pressing against the back of Katsuki's tongue. "Have to make sure Kacchan's pussy and his mouth are busy, or he gets an attitude. My needy omega, so perfect for me, huh?" Katsuki glares at him, but it's weak around the edges, his mind feels hazy, and the coil in his stomach winds tighter.
Drool starts to drip down Izuku's palm as he slides his fingers in and out of Katsuki's mouth, the warm, pleased scent of Izuku's pheromones washing over Katsuki in waves. Izuku's sun-dried fabric melts into his own heated caramel, something sharp and metallic rolling underneath it that he's not sure about whether it comes from him or Izuku.
It's heady, his body tunneling into the feeling of Izuku's thigh, hard and unyielding against his sensitive clit, the way Izuku's fingers fill his mouth when he slots a third one inside, the loud, wet noises of his cunt grinding on Izuku. Katsuki digs his nails into Izuku's shoulders hard enough to break skin if the alpha hadn't been wearing a shirt, his sharp, choked moans being muffled by Izuku's fingers.
He tries to warn Izuku he's close, but it's garbled and intelligible, Izuku not showing any interest in slowing so Katsuki can talk. Katsuki tries to jerk his hips away, soften some of the stimulation, but all Izuku needs to render him immobile is one hand.
The thought alone makes Katsuki clench hard, shaking as much as he can in Izuku's grip as he slurs frantically around the intrusion in his mouth. His climax has him by the neck, so he doesn't stand a chance when Izuku shoves his fingers to the back of Katsuki's throat, and pants in his ear, "You don't even need a knot, do you? Kacchan's gonna come on my leg because he's the best, he's so good for his alpha—"
Izuku's stream of praise blurs together as the cord inside of Katsuki snaps, his walls fluttering rhythmically around nothing as white-hot pleasure laps at his core. Waves of it crash around Katsuki and drag him under, he feels breathless as he gurgles moans around Izuku's fingers and shudders in his arms. He can feel slick gush out of him in pulses, painting a new layer of warmth and wetness on his thighs.
Izuku is still using his hand to rock Katsuki's hips into short, controlled movements, drawing out his orgasm. He slides his fingers out of Katsuki's mouth, wiping them on his clean pant leg before cradling the side of Katsuki's neck, eyes so dopey and lovesick Katsuki chest squeezes and he swears he can see hearts in Izuku's pupils.
It's less cute when Izuku doesn't stop, each grind toeing the line between pain and pleasure, Katsuki's already sensitive clit aching and throbbing. "Izuku," he rasps. "That's good, 'm done now."
Izuku nods and coos sympathetically, but doesn't slow down or stop. He trails his fingers down to Katsuki's nipple, tugging harsh and mean despite the sweetness dripping from his tone when he says, "But I need to give Kacchan one more, have to make sure my omega is satisfied, remember?" Katsuki flushes, burying his face in Izuku's neck.
"I'm satisfied, alright? I was full of shit, you're right, now, please-/"
"Shh, I know, I know—but I think you need it. Let your alpha take care of you, I know what's best for Kacchan," Izuku simpers, pinching and rolling Katsuki's nipple between his fingers. Katsuki hisses, arching away from the touch only for Izuku's hand to move with him, and it hurts. It stings, and a dry sob crawls from Katsuki's throat. Izuku releases his nipple, and softens his voice to say, "Kacchan, you know what to say if you want me to stop."
Katsuki shakes his head and refuses to answer, biting his lip to stifle his moan as he moves his hips along with the rhythm Izuku's hands set, silently asking for more. Izuku smiles all sweet and pleased at him, a low rumbling coming from his throat. The sound draws a high, unbidden sound from Katsuki, something raw and seeking.
"Kacchan's the best omega, so pretty, so strong. The strongest. Kacchan is perfect. Say it, say it, Kacchan. Tell me you're perfect," Izuku babbles, whining in the back of his throat when it makes Katsuki trickle more slick into the soaked fabric. "So wet, so easy for me, Kacchan."
"Izuku," Katsuki slurs, overtaking Izuku's pace in favor of a sloppy, frantic grind. "Izuku." The slide of his bare, swollen cunt drags his sensitive clit against Izuku's pants, sparks of pleasure licking at his core. Izuku reaches up to flick Katsuki's puffy, abused nipple before claiming the other one and tugging harshly.
Katsuki keens, jerking forward and clamping his thighs down around Izuku's leg with a broken, pitchy groan. Izuku tightens his grip on Katsuki's hip, halting his movements and lifting just enough that the pressure alone won't make Katsuki come. "Say it, say Kacchan is perfect."
Katsuki bares his teeth at Izuku, biting warningly at the air. Izuku just giggles, making a kissy face at Katsuki's grumpy scowl and scrunched-up nose. "If Kacchan wants to come, he's gonna say it," Izuku says sweetly, rubbing his thumb soothingly into Katsuki's hipbone. "Kacchan is perfect, the best omega."
Katsuki is stuck between growling and purring at the praise, warm pride and embarrassment creeping up his neck. He'll never get used to this, Izuku making him say out loud how good he is, how perfect and strong and smart he is. It always sits low and heavy in his stomach, curls around his guts and warms him from the inside out.
But as much as his ears burn, Katsuki needs to come. Izuku was definitely right, the achy, itchy feeling doesn't stop growing, only becomes more persistent, harder to ignore the urge to crawl onto the mattress and submit, to beg Izuku to breed him. He feels desperate, like if he doesn't get Izuku's thigh back on his pussy he'll die.
"Kacchan is perfect," Katsuki says, trying to sound mocking and more in control than he is by throwing Izuku's exact words in his face, but it comes out as a whine. Izuku groans, sitting Katsuki's back on his leg and resuming the same harsh, quick rhythm like he'd never stopped.
It's too much, too soon, and it makes Katsuki's breath punch out of him in a strangled gasp. "Kacchan's so good for me, listens so well." A gush of slick meets Izuku's words, Izuku inhaling deeply before his pheromones spike possessively. "You love this, don't you, Kacchan? Falling apart just from humping my leg. Sweet omega needs his alpha that bad? Kacchan. Kacchan. My Kacchan."
Izuku pinches and pulls his nipple harshly, babbling mindless praises as he drags Katsuki’s dripping cunt against his thigh, begging him to show Izuku how pretty he is when he comes, how much he wishes Kacchan could just grind on his face instead of his stupid pants. Katsuki can barely make a noise, hunching forward into Izuku's nest and gasping wetly next to his scent gland.
Heat coils in his stomach, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. The slick, squelching noises of his pussy against wet fabric thunder as loud as the blood pumping in Katsuki's ears.
Izuku switches his hand from one nipple to the other, a drawn-out groan tumbling out of Katsuki when Izuku rolls the swollen flesh between his fingers. "Sounds so pretty. Gonna come? Is Kacchan gonna make another mess on my work pants?" Izuku asks, tugging sharply when Katsuki doesn't answer immediately.
Katsuki jerks and hisses, head still hidden in Izuku's neck as he growls out, "Yes, you stupid fuckin' alpha. Knot-for-brains, slick-obsessed freak—" Katsuki cuts himself off with a whine, shuddering in Izuku's grasp before he continues, '—can't let a quickie be—fuckfuckfuck—be a quickie."
"That's not fair, Kacchan needs me. His pussy needs me." Izuku sounds genuinely hurt, affronted at the idea of putting a limit on the amount of time he gets to spend playing with Katsuki's cunt. "You're so close, just like that. One more, Kacchan, c'mon," Izuku coaxes, steadying Katsuki's hips as they become jerky, rolling him into his next orgasm with confident, dragging movements.
"Izuku—coming, I'm gonna—hah—coming, Izuku—“
Katsuki comes so hard he curls into Izuku with something close to a wail, latching onto the side of his neck and biting down. Molten pleasure burns through him, waves of tingling heat pulsing outward from his cunt, his pussy leaking slick as it clenches and flutters through his climax. Izuku works him through it again, slow this time, with quiet coos as he lets Katsuki melt into him and go boneless.
Izuku presses a kiss to Katsuki's sweaty temple, placing a hand on his lower back to steady him as the pleasure ebbs away and he's left achy and twitching. "Do you want me to call in a substitute so I can help you get ready for your heat?" Izuku asks when Katsuki's breathing resembles something even.
Katsuki pulls his mouth away from Izuku's neck to reveal a bruised ring of teeth overlapping his mating scar. Katsuki presses his finger to it and ignores the spark of warmth in his gut when Izuku groans because of it.
"Nah, don't worry about it." Katsuki climbs off of Izuku's thigh on shaky legs, combing a hand through his hair to push the sweaty strands out of his face. "Got enough patches to grab enough groceries to last us. Might even be able to meal prep if you scent me really good before you leave and promise to come straight home."
Izuku opens his mouth to protest, undoubtedly planning to say he'll take the day off and handle everything for Katsuki, but Katsuki slaps a palm to his mouth and shoves his face away. "Don't even think about it, idiot. Go. To. Work." Izuku whines behind Katsuki's hand and looks at him with big, pleading eyes.
Katsuki groans, rolling his eyes fondly. "Scent wipes. New pants. Now, before you pop a knot."
Izuku brightens, pulling Katsuki's palm away from his mouth. "What if it's already formed? What then?" Katsuki can't help but snicker at Izuku's hopeful expression.
"No. Work. Alpha's provide, Izuku." Said alpha grumbles under his breath as he strips his pants off and gingerly folds them, no doubt tucking them away to be used at a later date.
"I saw that, perv."
"But it's Kacchan's slick! I can't be a pervert if I'm your mate."
"You definitely are. I bet you'd suck on those even after they're dry." Katsuki smirks as Izuku turns bright red and sputters 'Kacchan, no!' before hiding his face in his palms. He would, Katsuki's not stupid. Izuku has had a habit of stealing Katsuki's scent or slick-soaked clothes since before they were even together.
Katsuki likes it, likes that Izuku's so fucked up about him that he'd stuff dried-up slick in his mouth, likes it when Izuku gets that look in his eye that means he has something new to write about Katsuki in his notebook.
Katsuki flicks Izuku's forehead, turning to leave their bedroom. "If you can get cleaned up in five minutes, I'll make you breakfast before you go." Katsuki chuckles fondly when Izuku scrambles up and makes a mad dash for the bathroom.
After Izuku shoves food in his mouth, thoroughly scents Katsuki while crowding him against the kitchen counter, kisses him goodbye, and runs out the door, Katsuki picks up the pre-cum soaked boxers Izuku had left in the laundry basket and holds them to his nose. They smell so good he forgets to put them away, instead carrying them around with him and gnawing at the spot where Izuku's dick used to be.
They're only useless and spit-soaked enough to consider throwing away when Izuku comes home and pushes Katsuki onto his shoulders and knees, stuffing the wet fabric in his mouth to muffle the noises he makes while Izuku pounds into his cunt.