MHA smut

Frozen

Written by:
9r7g5h, The 9 One (9r7g5h)

Summary:

But this was no typical thief. An ordinary thief didn't have a scent that made his knees weak, made his eyes tear up as he realized for the first time in six fucking months he could breathe, the bite mark on the side of his neck throbbing in the presence of the alpha that had left it. An ordinary thief wouldn't have stood at his entrance, eyes soft and smile genuine, arms reaching out to hold him. An average thief wouldn't say his name in such a way that sent his heart racing, making his child, their child, flip within his womb.

Because standing before him was no normal thief.

"You came back," Izuku choked out, his knife falling to his side, from his hands, clattering to the wooden floor they'd both built.

"Deku," Katsuki purred, "I came home."

"Get out of my den, Bakugou."

_______________________________

It was beautiful.

That was the only thing Izuku could think of looking at the deer - her large brown eyes, her soft fur, her ears flicking as she pawed through the snow for food. She fit perfectly into the forest, far better than he did. She'd been born there, raised there; he was just an intruder, existing in her world.

But her leg. Her leg had been twisted at some point, maybe even bit by some failed hunter. That was probably why she'd been left behind by the herd, left to fend for herself despite her otherwise health. If he didn't do it, some other predator would.

Raising his bow, Izuku took a few deep breaths as he drew the arrow to his ear. As he lined the tip to her heart (make it quick, painless, give the gods their due). As he slowly let the air in his lungs out, fingertips loosening on the string-

Only to jerk and hiss at the sharp kick to his ribs, knocking the arrow wide. It clattered somewhere against a tree, loud in the frozen silence of the woods; a clear warning to everything around that something dangerous was there, something to be feared. Even recovering quickly, ignoring the deep ache in his side to pull another arrow and stand again, Izuku knew it would be for nothing: she was gone, already stumbled off into the safety of the trees around them. Her tracks were clear. He could hunt her if he wanted, but with how low the sun already was?

Chiyo estimated only a month or so to go before he was due, and his lack of mobility showed. He might have considered it earlier in the day, or his stomach not weighed down with such an unruly pup. With a sigh, Izuku slung his bow over his shoulder, gloved hand rubbing circles over where he'd been kicked.

"I didn't want venison either, love," he said softly, even as he mourned the week's worth of food and new soft, warm pelt. "Maybe we can trade for a rabbit in town."

He took the gentle roll at his words as a positive, grateful that the end of the day would be peaceful, at least for them.

The return home was quiet - the forest still recovering from his faux pas, birdsong soft under the crunch of his boots on the ice. He could have brought his ram and remained silent, his hooves finding the best paths between the trees. Of course, that only would have been going in. Mighty didn't take kindly to his hunts, and if he had been successful, the complaints at having to carry another herbivore back home would have been non-stop. Mighty had been desensitized to blood, but he wasn't a-.

Izuku stopped that train of thought before it could continue, shaking his head hard to force it from his mind. He didn't have time to dwell on memories, not now.

He had himself, and he had Mighty, and that was enough.

It was almost twilight by the time he reached home - he'd have to be quick. No one wanted to be stuck outside when it grew dark, even on a clear night like tonight. The chances of getting lost just became that much higher, the chances of freezing to death rising as well. Even if Mighty could carry him home without a light, he still didn't want to take the risk. Bears were in the woods, more than willing to risk it against a ram and a pregnant omega for an easy meal. Izuku hadn't come this far alone to die this close to the end for some gods-be-damned meat.

A quick trip to the town with the jar of honey he'd been saving since last spring should get him enough for a few days, maybe a week, if he pulled the alone card. Enough to keep him home, warm, and off his aching, swollen feet until he could figure out something else he could trade, or at least until he had the energy to attempt a hunt again. He was running low on things he could pawn, as much as it hurt to see the growing empty space in the home the- he'd spent so much time building. But survival came first.

Izuku was almost at his door when he realized light was flickering from his home, from the crack under the door. He'd banked the fire, had ensured all the lanterns were closed, had pulled and tacked the heavy curtains over the closed window shutters - it wasn't a light left by him. An intruder. Not Todoroki, Ochoko, or Hitoshi; no, their animals would have met him by now, would have been sprawled on the front porch, or poked their heads out of a window at his approach. Chiyo, Toshinori, or Aizawa would have waited for him, not just gone ahead. His mother?

A quick sniff of the air around the door showed no smell other than his own. Scent blockers.

Danger.

Izuku slid his bow and quiver from his back, considering it for a moment. Tight spaces, easy to dodge if the intruder was waiting for him - it would take him a moment to grab and notch a new arrow if he missed, if another kick took him by surprise. His dagger, then. He'd have to get in close, but a quick slice to the throat, or to the inside of their thigh, or their arm if he could, and he'd be ok. They'd be ok.

"Please be good for me, my love," Izuku whispered quietly, rubbing his hand over his stomach, a silent prayer to the gods for luck to be on his side. He knew he wasn't their favorite, never had been, but to survive this encounter was all he asked.

A deep breath and Izuku pushed open the door.

The fire blazed in its hearth, evidence that whoever had intruded upon his home had been there for a long time already, hours perhaps. It was long enough to find whatever they'd been looking for and take it if they were some ordinary intruder. If they were some simple thief looking for copper or the odd silver to steal, for family gems that might be hidden in some dark corner, for whatever Izuku had managed to carve from the earth and turn into his. For whatever could be stolen and sold and not traced back to some simple hunter's cabin on the edge of forest and town.

But this wasn't some simple intruder. Some general thief. Those Izuku could have handled. He could have snarled and growled at and shown his fangs, danger, and gloved claws. Could have made himself known as a threat, even if he was heavy and swollen and everything hurt, because he had things to protect. But this was no typical thief. An ordinary thief didn't have a scent that made his knees weak, made his eyes tear up as he realized for the first time in six fucking months he could breathe, the bite mark on the side of his neck throbbing in the presence of the alpha that had left it. An ordinary thief wouldn't have stood at his entrance, eyes soft and smile genuine, arms reaching out to hold him. An average thief wouldn't say his name in such a way that sent his heart racing, making his child, their child, flip within his womb.

Because standing before him was no normal thief.

"You came back," Izuku choked out, his knife falling to his side, from his hands, clattering to the wooden floor they'd both built.

"Deku," Katsuki purred, "I came home."

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Izuku could easily imagine the reunion Katsuki had cooked up in his head, the one he had most likely clung to on his journey home: he'd surprise Izuku with his return, no matter whether he'd been successful. Izuku would be overjoyed, would race to him and fling himself into his arms, embracing his prodigal alpha. They would kiss, the first of many after so long apart. Depending on how detailed this reunion fantasy got, Izuku might even invite him back into their nest that very moment, welcome home sex for the conquering hero.

Had things been different, that might have been reality. He could feel the bond between them, could feel how he longed for his alpha.

Instead, he curled his upper lip, baring his teeth.

"Get out of my den, Bakugou."

Katsuki flinched at his words, the same as if Izuku had taken a swing at him. His scent soured, his smile falling into a glare as he watched Izuku settle into a chair, lifting his feet the best he could to untie his soaked boots. There was no way he would get to town tonight, not like this. Not with this to deal with. Meaning food would be something scrounged together, pulled from his diminishing stores in the cellar, whatever the moisture and rot and rodents hadn't ruined before he'd been able to fix the hole.

It'd been hard, the six months since Katsuki had left. Six months that left him resistant to the pull between them, left him unwilling to see the face of the man he still loved because it hurt so damn much.

"What the hell's your problem, Deku?" Katsuki snarled, finally getting ahold of himself again and pulling himself together. Angry that his reunion was dismissed, that he was met with more ice inside the home he had helped build instead of warmth. "I told you I'd come back, and here I am. I'm back."

"And I asked you not to leave in the first place. At least not without me. To give me time to get ready, to prepare for the trip. And you were gone the next morning." Izuku punctuated the word with a toss of his boot, Katsuki easily dodging the leather projectile aimed at his head. He couldn't avoid the snarled words, though, even as he growled back.

"Every alpha in my family has gone on this hunt alone, Deku. I told you this-"

"That didn't stop you from taking your pack," Izuku spat out, cutting him off, finally wrestling off his other boot, face flushed from the effort of removing his shoes around his swollen stomach and the heat of the fire. It might have been better if he hadn't kept his heavy coat on, had shed it first like he usually did, but he'd be damned if he gave Katsuki anything on him right now. The heavy fabric and leather at least kept him formless, a blob in the eyes of the alpha before him, a shield between him and the truth. "Leaving me behind while you tried to find dragons. Dragons that died off thousands of years ago."

He'd know eventually, but at this moment, Izuku just wanted to be angry.

"Your mother never found one, your grandmother never found one, the last person in your line to find one was seventeen generations ago, and that was a skeleton." Izuku pushed himself back to his feet, tearing the hat from his head and letting his wild curls fall around his ears. "Maybe if you-"

A knock.

A knock that pulled the wind from his lungs, forcing him to deflate. Izuku knew the pattern and face he'd find behind the wood. Part of him hated that he had such good friends; the rest happily turned from the simmering Katsuki and pulled open the door, forcing a smile as Shoto stepped into the warmth. A smile that grew at the rabbit in his hands, drool already pooling in his mouth, the sight of them both a welcome reprieve from the alpha.

"He's back, Midoriya," Shoto said quickly, shoving the rabbit and a handful of leather into his arms, a flickered glance towards Katsuki the only acknowledgment the beta showed. Though it was clear that was why he was here: everyone else knew, and whatever excuse gave, Izuku knew someone wanted to check. Ensure the alpha wasn't causing more distress, even if it wasn't Katsuki Shoto talked about. "Sero came back, and I need you to make me a proposal gift before he does. The rabbit's your payment. Can you do it?"

"I'm surprised you didn't bring me more holey socks to darn, too," Izuku teased. A quick press of their wrists as he took them, letting his beta friend's scent sweep over him, comfort him, reassuring them both nothing was wrong, at least for now. Shifting the materials, he quickly looked them over. They'd talked a bit about what Shoto had in mind, and while it wasn't common for a beta to propose to an alpha, it wasn't unheard of. The mating bracelet would be lovely when he was done with it; better than what Shoto could do himself, at least. Though they both knew this was more to help Izuku than it was to help Sho. "Give me a few days, and I'll show you what I've got. Wait until at least then to roll over and present, understand?"

Izuku laughed at Shoto's flush, only for him to give Katsuki one more glance.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you the same."

He gave a swift nod and left without another word, legs stiff as he quickly walked back into the cold. His snow leopard waited for him on the porch, her tail high as she greeted him with a soft yowl before the closing door cut them off.

Leaving just the two of them again.

"You're taking food from Icy-hot now? I thought you could hunt for yourself."

His voice was low and dangerous, a hint of confusion that Izuku wanted to smack him for. He was well within his right to take food from his pack, from his friends, not that Katsuki would ever accept the bonds between them. Stupid, stubborn, protective asshole.

"I can accept food from whoever I want," Izuku shrugged, refusing to turn and look at him. He kept his voice level. Cold. He was uninterested in the man behind him as he moved around his overly empty house. "Besides, if one of the people who kept me alive during my drop wants to feed me, who am I to deny him?"

He could feel the air leave Katsuki's lungs, the warmth in the cabin dropping. He knew it was cruel to inform him that way, but maybe Izuku had a bit of cruelty in him. A spark carved and honed over the last few months alone.

"I'm lucky Ochako came to invite me to nest share with her for our next heats," he said lightly, laying the rabbit on the table. His knife was back by the door, still on the floor where he'd dropped it. Trying to retrieve it would be hell. Instead, he turned back towards Katsuki, taking those few steps to close the distance between them. There was no fight as he pulled the knife from Katsuki's belt, no reaction besides the ever-continuing shift of Katsuki's eyes to watch him. To follow him as he moved. His face was otherwise blank as he heard that his absence, his disappearance, had impacted Izuku so severely.

"Chiyo's surprised I survived."

Izuku ignored the heavy thunk behind him as he returned to the rabbit, pleased to find it already gutted and cleaned. Skinning it would be easy, his hands wielding the knife quickly as he spoke, ignoring that Katsuki had fallen or dropped something in his shock.

"You had already been gone for a few weeks when it happened, so I'm not entirely sure of the timeline on everything. I lost a moon and a half, I believe," Izuku mused, watching his hands work, making the measured cuts and movements necessary to prepare his meal. "Maybe two? I can't truly remember. I was weak when I finally came out of it. I only know what everyone's told me. At some point, a badger burrowed into the cellar." Izuku chuckled at that, a dark, bitter chuckle. That had been a fun surprise to return to, new scars littering his hand and forearm from meeting his temporary roommate. "We drove it out with some friends' help, but the damage had been done. What it hadn't eaten had been destroyed, and what it hadn't destroyed had been soiled."

"Izuku," Katsuki said slowly, his voice thick. "I-"

"Don't worry," Izuku said quickly, turning to look over his shoulder, a smile too broad and too bright. "I know how hard you worked on the house, how much you care about it. So I fixed it. Cleaned everything up, fixed everything, and reinforced the walls. Even traded for a charm that'll prevent those kinds from happenings in the future. I've almost got the cellar back up to where it was in the spring. So yes, Bakugou, the people who have kept me alive since you left sometimes bring me food in exchange for a task. Especially when my condition makes it hard to hunt or I've run out of things to trade in the village. And if they're going to give it to me, I'm going to accept."

Izuku looked down at the rabbit before him, at the beautifully skinned pelt and the pieces of meat hacked from the small bones. At the head pushed to the side, to be given back to the gods with proper prayers and burial in the forest.

'Bunny,' Kacchan had one called him. But bunnies were nothing but food, and he didn't have the luxury of being soft.

"I think you'd better go, Bakugou," Izuku said softly. "I'm hungry and tired and would prefer to be alone."

He could smell the distress from the alpha, the rage, fear, and need. Knew that the knowledge his hunt had done so much wrong would cause him pain. But Izuku couldn't care. Maybe when he wasn't hurting from a day of hunting, maybe when he was less hungry, maybe when his life was more of a line and less of a spiral, he'd care about the pain he'd caused his mate and the man who'd been his best friend his entire life. But right now, all he wanted was to figure out the best way to cook the rabbit Shoto had brought him and go to bed in the nest that only smelt like him.

The footsteps were heavy. Faltering.

The door closing was not.

___________

Morning came far too soon, despite everything Izuku did to deny it. The nest was warm, even if the rest of the house had cooled overnight; everything in him wanted to stay there, surrounded by the blankets and pelts he'd refused to part with, that had been everything to him over the last few months. That if he closed his eyes and tried, a tiny part of him swore he could still catch that smoky-sweet scent he craved, even as he refused.

He was only a man, after all. A tired, sore, heartbroken man.

One whose child was using his bladder to bounce off of, finally forcing him to rise.

"I swear you're just like him," Izuku grumbled, shrugging on the clothes he'd designated for his trek to the outhouse. "Sworn to make my life difficult in whatever way you can."

He knew it was impossible, but swore the shifting he felt inside was laughter, glee his child felt at putting their poor dam through hell.

He froze as he opened the door, eyes wide as he stared down at the porch.

He had tried to ration the rabbit last night, keeping some of the simple stew for the following day. His supplies were still low, even after weeks of trying to build them up for a blizzard, so the more he could force things to stretch, the better. His hunger, though, the lack of lunch before and the gnawing in his stomach had forced his hand, devouring the stew and mopping the pot clean, using one of the few precious pieces of bread he had managed to trade for to get every last bit. He had gone to bed full the previous night, but had been prepared this morning to feel it.

On the porch laid food. Fish, cheese, bread, what had to be a whole deer's worth of meat broken down and wrapped. A hunk of salt almost as big as his head, brilliant pink and gleaming in the sun, enough that he could pack and preserve and store most of what was before him. Strings of dried fruits and vegetables were tied to the door, the overhang, and the poles keeping the overhang up. A feast's worth of food, laid out on his porch, enough to save and gorge and finally feel safe. Safe enough to survive the next blizzard and know he and his pup wouldn't starve.

A blanket sat next to the food. Soft and warm and smelling of him, saturated in his scent. Izuku could feel a purr pulling at his throat, his tongue, trying to force its way past his lips. Part of him wanted nothing more than to pick it up, press his face against it, rub it against his neck and scent glands, and let the oils that had soaked into the fabrics transfer onto him.

Part of him wanted to be petty. To destroy everything, piss on the food and leave it for whatever scavengers roamed the forest. To stuff the blanket into the manure bin in the barn, use it to cover Mighty's waste. But the rest of him was practical, refusing to be wasteful when his stomach demanded more. He took the food inside, sorting and storing and laying out a spread for breakfast, salivating at the idea of food.

He left the blanket outside.

_________

There was a strange tension in town.

The entire ride down, Izuku knew Katsuki was there. He might still be weakened and recovering from his drop and pregnancy, but that didn't change his senses. He could still feel the eyes on him, sharp and constant and almost hunting, the dual pair of Katsuki with his wolf. But he felt no fear under their gaze. Knew they were there to watch, observe, and protect him as he went into town, close enough for him to just miss catching a glimpse of them through the trees as Mighty plodded along, unbothered as well.

Again he was glad for this thick coat, the cloth hiding the truth. The food might have warmed his stomach, might have bought the slightest goodwill, but the last six months of being abandoned was a lot to make up for.

Reaching town, however, there was no place for Katsuki to hide. There were no trees for the two of them to slide between or brush for them to crouch behind. The alleys between homes and stores weren't wide consistently enough to slip through, not for a wolf of her size.

Instead, they fell into step a few paces behind Izuku and Mighty, silently matching their way as he worked through the town, pot of honey in hand.

The gift of food that morning had been nice, had alleviated his fears of starving, but there was still much that had been ruined. A great deal Izuku had to replace, especially if he wanted to comfortably wait out winter after the pup was born. Herbs for fevers, coughs, to help with his milk; creams and pastes for the pup's skin to ward away dryness and rash; spices if he just wanted to eat and not die of boredom. He wouldn't be able to get everything he wanted; most would have to wait for winter to pass and their brief spring and summer to come, but he could at least get what was necessary.

Chiyo would have the herbs, and he could set something up for the creams. The rest could come later.

The walk to her home, though, was tense. The entire village felt tight, wound up, now that their four had returned home. Though to clearly mixed reactions, from the scattering of tents Izuku saw in front of Mina and Hitoshi's homes. It seemed Sero had been the only one welcomed back with open arms, Shoto excited to see his intended.

Of course, Sero had been the only one to leave with the full permission of his soon-to-be mate, Shoto knowing and accepting that he had to stay as next in line to lead. The others had wanted to go as well, wanted to travel on the famed 'Bakugou quest' and find a dragon, only to be left behind.

Mina had spent days chopping down trees when the group had left, her hurt hanging under the angry alpha scent she continued to pump out with every swing of her ax. Hitoshi had gone quiet, far too silent for far too long, only speaking again after Izuku woke from his drop. Even still, he barely spoke, taking too much after his brunette father instead of the blonde.

Knowing he wasn't the only one holding them responsible for their choices was nice.

"Are you feeling ok?"

Izuku jumped, almost falling off Mighty's back as Katsuki's voice sounded in his ear. For all his talk of his senses staying sharp, he'd been too absorbed by the town around them to notice that Katsuki and Queen had managed to close the gap between them. A sizeable gloved hand landed on his waist to steady him, though Izuku quickly pulled away, ignoring the deepening frown as he did.

"I feel fine, Bakugou. Thank you for asking."

"Then why are you taking the honey you practically fought a bear for to Chiyo?" Katsuki asked through gritted teeth. He was almost impressed by his control, how he'd kept from screaming at the use of his last name or denial of information.

He wasn't sure how long that would last, but Izuku was interested in seeing the result when it finally broke.

"I can't take something sweet to one of my elders? My mother always told me to respect them since they hold the history of our tribe. Maybe I just want to hear a story."

"Damn it, Deku, talk to me." Mighty paused as Queen raced ahead, turning so her considerable flank cut across their path. There was anger on his face, yes, but also concern as he forced Izuku to look at him. "Does this have something to do with your drop? If you're sick, you shouldn't be walking around in the cold like this. I can-"

"I've been handling it myself this whole time, Bakugou," Izuku snapped, maneuvering Mighty around Queen, tapping on his horns when he tried to nip at her tail. "I can do this by myself too."

Before he could start up again, Izuku kicked Mighty into a run, closing those last few yards between them and Chiyo's, gritting his teeth at the painful bounce. He stumbled as he slid off at her door, hand hitting the stair before his feet. He pushed himself up and off, the momentum enough to drive him through her door, closing and latching it behind him. Just in time, a solid thunk and a pained curse forcing out a bark of laughter as Katsuki began pounding on the wood behind him.

"I see you and our young Bakugou have been reunited." The relief at Chiyo's voice swept over Izuku, forcing him to relax against the door and slump to the floor. Much like his own mother, there was something about her scent and voice that reminded him of being little, a pup in Inko's arms. He knew there was no danger, but just being in her presence brought that comfort and safety.

Even if his ass was sore and he felt vaguely like throwing up.

"Come on, lad, up up. Let's check how things are going."

Her grip was surprisingly firm as she helped him to his feet, even with one hand still on her cane. One hand in hers, the other under his stomach, Izuku let himself be pulled up and helped to the chair, both ignoring the scene no doubt still taking place on the other side of the door.

"He always was a loud one, that alpha of yours," Chiyo sighed, shaking her head as she helped him out of his coat. "Even as a newborn, I swear he screamed so loud it spooked one of the horses."

"Auntie said it was a herd of sheep." Izuku fought back a shiver as cold fingers pressed against his warm neck, feeling his pulse beat under his skin, still racing from the chase. The noise had quieted, but the persistent tapping of knuckles on wood had yet to let up. "Did it again when we were three, just to show he could. Not that it's an accomplishment; a fly could have sent those sheep into a run."

"Except your ram." Chiyo chuckled, shaking her head as she nodded, pulling her hands away from his neck only to turn them to his stomach. "He was barely fazed by anything then, and not much has changed now. Are you eating more?"

"Yes." Technically he was if breakfast from that morning counted. And with the food Katsuki had given him, he'd be able to eat more than enough moving forward. "My milk still hasn't come in yet, though. I was hoping to trade for some herbs to help with that. Some medicine, too, if possible. "

The look she gave him told him she knew, though perhaps it was also how his eyes wouldn't meet hers. This was a conversation they'd had many times; many in the village had helped as much as possible, but the harvest had been hard, and their own supplies were running low. If the bones were right, they could expect one more storm before the weather would change for the better, hopefully bringing a long, mild spring to relieve them of this cold.

Shame burned in his gut every time he'd had to accept the help when he was supposed to be the one helping. The one bringing extra meat to town, restocking the hard-found herbs, and ensuring plenty for their people. That's what he and Katsuki had done every year since they'd become old enough to choose what job they wished moving forward, since they both decided to live on the edge of the forest as hunters, even before they'd loved and mated. To fail so horribly?

Even in his failure, he was thankful that it kept him and his pup alive.

"Not that you need to trade," Chiyo pointed out, "but what would you like to give?"

Damn it. He'd dropped the honey. Izuku froze at that realization, tears welling at the thought. He'd saved it for so long, too, for the perfect critical moment, and now when he needed it, it was gone. The clay most likely shattered on the ground, honey soaked into the dirt, leaving him nothing to trade for the herbs he needed.

"Give me just a moment, dear." Chiyo patted his hand, her smile calming as she stood and picked back up his coat. She draped it over him, ensuring he was covered before moving towards the door. The sound of the latch was loud in his ears, the door louder even still as she swung it open. Katsuki's face flushed red on the other side.

"What's going on? Is he ok? What's-"

"Katsuki Bakugou." Izuku almost felt sorry for him; it seemed like no one was willing to listen to Katsuki speak, least of all Chiyo, her voice stern. "I don't blame you for leaving. I understand it was something you had to do. But your decisions to leave your mate behind, and how you did so, caused a great deal of harm this community is still recovering from. Had it not been for the grace of the gods and luck, you would have returned home to nothing. Understand that this wound will take time to heal, and now be a dear and fetch me whatever Izuku dear brought me."

Whatever Katsuki said in response was too quiet for Izuku to hear, though the sliver of his face that he could see through the open door fell at her scolding.

"Be that as it may, you still must give it time. Now sit quietly with your wolf, and when we're done here, you can escort him home."

There were no more protests as Chiyo closed the door, this time one arm wrapped around the clay pot of honey. The top was chipped, he noticed with chagrin, but the rest looked fine, and the chip wasn't enough to waste any of the sweetness within.

"I'd say this is more than enough to trade for what you're looking for, as well as some future goodwill," Chiyo praised, eyes light as she cracked open the sealed top, the sweet smell overtaking them both. "I've missed having something to sweeten my tea with. But I'll only accept this if you'll have a spoon first. For the baby."

Izuku wanted to protest; that was for her. But the moment the smell had reached him, it was all he'd ever wanted in life, was a spoonful of honey right that very moment. If he had a spoonful of honey, everything would be alright with the world. It wouldn't matter that he was in pain, that he wanted his husband, that he needed to pee again.

Perhaps Chiyo saw his tears, or perhaps she had just attended to enough pregnancies to know, but the smile on her face as she handed over the spoon was just as sweet as the honey itself.

"This will pass, as all things do." Once again, the cold hands were on his stomach, pressing and feeling for the life within him, her smile growing as they both felt the child stir. "He'll make it up to you, and you'll come to forgive him, once he's earned it. Once he's properly explained. And this too will pass."

Izuku swallowed hard and nodded.

___________

By the time Izuku recomposed himself and left, the herbs he needed nicely wrapped and packaged with little notes about their use, it was easier to step out the door, knowing Katsuki would be sitting on the porch outside. His scent had been seeping under the door the whole visit with Chiyo, subdued but still present. A reminder of what he had to face, more manageable with the reassurance that everything would be alright ringing in his mind.

Honey really did make everything better.

For now, watching as Katsuki scrambled to stand before him, his heart was a little bit lighter. Not forgiven, no, not by a long shot, but enough that he didn't shrug him off the moment he spoke.

Not that he got far. The gods once again decided that Katsuki wasn't allowed his voice.

"I'm going to kill you, Bakugou!"

Izuku laughed as Ochako lunged towards Chiyo's porch, teeth barred like the squirrel hanging from her shoulder, matching the energy she gave off. Iida caught her long before she made contact, his arm tight around her waist. Hence, her legs dangled above the ground, though that did nothing to stop the daggers flying from her eyes.

"You think you can just waltz right back in without anyone giving you what's for, you absolute asshole? You have another thing coming; Iida, let me go. He needs this. I need this. You're so fucking lucking I went to check on Zuzu, if I hadn't-"

"I would have lost him. Thank you." Ochako stopped at Katsuki's words, as he turned fully towards her and bowed before her, his face grave and solemn. "My quest was something I had to do," he continued, still bent, still facing the dirt between them, "but I regret how I went about it. How I caused so much pain. Thank you for keeping him alive, when I should have been the one to do so."

Iida set her back on the ground, hands raised to grab Ochako again. Instead, she crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks, eyebrows furrowed as she looked toward Izuku. Their eyes met, long years of friendship letting that basic message pass between them. Ochako shook her head, shrugging as she kicked out at his leg.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. But if you want to start making it up to everyone, fixing things with him is a good start. And," she added, throwing Izuku a sly grin that had him rolling his eyes, "maybe getting back to work as our resident hunter. Izuku's the best, but you're a close second, and the extra meat will greatly help supplement whatever the caravan brings back. Just running off like that, leaving us low on manpower during the harvest?" The rest was left unspoken, though it was clear what kind of reputation Ochako was implying they all had.

Of course, not that their presence or absence would have changed much; the harvest still would have been lacking, and their reputations were just that - implied by Ochako, not held by the rest, at least, not so far as Izuku knew. Still, Katsuki nodded as he stood, spine stiff and scent sour. He was serious and had taken her words to heart.

Ochako grabbed Izuku's arm as he climbed the stairs, smiling wickedly as they watched Katsuki hoist himself onto the back of Queen. "To whip him back into shape before the pup comes." She whispered the words into his ear as she pulled him into a hug, one arm tight around his shoulders while the other passed her wrist over his hidden stomach, a secret scenting for comfort. "Now rest," she said louder, pulling away and pushing him towards Mighty. "Actually, sleep instead of trying to hunt for once."

That Izuku could do.

__________

They were home when Katsuki spoke. He'd kept close this time, keeping to the trail instead of the woods beside it. Always just one large stride behind Mighty, Queen's large paws light across the snow-dusted forest floor. Again his eyes were always on Izuku, observant, searching, almost hunting for whatever it was he needed. Whatever it was, Izuku knew he'd find it at some point, just not right now. Not when it'd been less than a day.

Absolution couldn't be found in a single word, a turn of the sun, a single beat of his heart, no matter how much said heart longed for him.

"I know you won't forgive me," Katsuki said, still astride Queen as Izuku slid off Mighty, letting the ram wander towards the barn. "And if I tried to explain to you right now, you'll just be pissed. So when you're ready to listen, I'll give you everything. The apology, the reason why I did it, how things went. You don't have to forgive me, Izuku, but I know you like to know everything before you make a choice. Store all the information in that nerdy brain of yours so you can analyze or ignore it as you please. So I'll give you that when you're ready to hear it."

The first time someone in town had let him speak, and it was almost sweet. If he wasn't still letting the coals of his anger warm him, Izuku might have even appreciated it.

"And until then, Bakugou?"

"I'll work to earn it."

Queen took off into the woods before Izuku could respond, with nonexistent words heavy on his tongue as his mate disappeared into the trees again.

It was the middle of the night when Izuku finally broke.

___________

The rest of the day had passed peacefully. For the first time since this had all begun, Izuku had just been able to relax. To spend the last few hours of the day doing nothing but existing within his home, no more effort put into his movement than it took to boil water for the tea Chiyo had given him to drink or to prepare another meal from the food Katsuki had left by his door. Throwing another log onto the fire from the chair he sat in, hand gently caressing his stomach as he soaked in the warmth, almost uncomfortably full. It almost became a game, finding the fewest things to do before the baby moved again, a kick or flutter against his hand, timed by sips of tea or adding more warmth to their home.

Most days had been hectic. Worrying about rebuilding their home, about finding which of their things had any worth he could trade, about hunting in the cold to find something to eat. The only days before he had had to relax had been the storms too heavy and dangerous to leave, and those had been hungry affairs. Nothing like this, this little piece of paradise written in the few books that once sat on their walls.

Maybe one day, he could get them back. Could hunt enough deer and rabbits and elk to trade their pelts so he could rebuild his collection, in between things needed for the baby. Maybe one day.

But as relaxing as the day was, all throughout, his smell continued to seep in, wafting in through the tiny crack in the bottom of the door. The blanket had been there all day, had a shiny sheen of frost by the time Izuku came home from town, but the scenting oils were potent. An alphas' were even more robust, especially when placed on a courting gift, when claimed by a chosen and accepted mate. Constantly calling, a pull on the bond well seated within him, that had been placed the moment he and Katsuki had imprinted upon each other when they were just pups themselves, before they knew what the future would bring and what lust and love and need were. When something had clicked, and they had both just known they belonged to each other because that's what was right.

The blanket called to that bond, the smell stronger than the ice that tried to stamp it out. Calling to him.

He lasted the whole day, focusing on the food and the tea and the warmth. On the soothing glide of his hand across his own stomach, of the turns and flutters in his womb as he spoke. It was only in the middle of the night, when lying in his nest, that Izuku broke.

Because damn it, if Katsuki's scent hadn't started something he needed to finish.

The blanket was freezing to the touch, soft fabric hard and rough in his hands. Thankfully it was unharmed - in the warmth of his home, by the embers that stirred back to life with a few sticks and muttered curses, the ice had soon melted. Melted and left no tears or wounds, just the intensity of the scent that had called to him, begged to be let in, now held to his chest and his.

It was soft. Almost softer than the furs that covered their floors, hunted and cleaned and cured specifically for the purpose of protecting their feet from the chill that sunk up through the wood when the ground froze beneath them. It was light, too, despite how quickly it warmed his hands, flowing like water through his fingers as he twisted and turned the fabric to examine the orange and black design. Waves, curls, and tiny 'x's covered it end to end, leaving him almost dizzy trying to find how each flowed into the next. A masterpiece of weaving, all soaked in Katsuki's scenting oils and given to him.

Izuku hadn't even realized he'd grown hard until he pressed his face into the fabric and breathed deeply, tongue flicking out to try and taste Katsuki on the cloth. No use there, but the lungful of the scent made his poor dick throb, painful and aching under his swollen stomach, already leaking against the thick nightgown he had taken to wearing when his regular sleeping pants had become too tight. His ass clenched hard around nothing, empty and needy and already wet, a shiver up his spine as slick spread to his cheeks. The whine from his throat was loud, too loud in the otherwise silence, overtaking the crackling of the fire as he keened his need to no one who could hear.

Not for the first time since all of this began, his anger waned because he wanted Kacchan.

Wanted his hands, his mouth, that perfect dick that had done this to him in the first place, knocked him up before leaving for an adventure without him, that bastard. He wanted his voice whispering in his ear how good he felt, how tight, how warm and wet and perfect as Kacchan slid in slowly, because too fast at the start would leave them both wanting more when it ended too soon. Wanted hands that never seemed to feel the cold on his aching chest, his sore hips, interlacing with his own constantly freezing fingers as they moved, hips rocking together to find completion, his poor cock neglected between them because Kacchan wouldn't let him touch, not until he was close, until he was ready, not until Izuku begged. Wanted teeth in his shoulder, his neck, sinking perfectly over the mating mark like it had a dozen, a hundred times before, leaving Kacchan's lips bloody before he turned his head as well, letting Izuku return the favor as his knot caught in his rim, as he came deep inside his ass, burning him from the inside even as Kacchan's hand stroked his dick until he spilled between them.

He wanted Kacchan.

Izuku was sweating, panting as he finally relaxed on the rug before the fire, unwilling to move even as his back protested the hard floor. He couldn't see the mess he'd made but could feel it, his hand and thighs and the inside of his gown sticky and wet. He'd have to take it to the river and wash it in the morning, unwilling and unable to do anything more than strip the clothing from himself now and use it to wipe as much of the mess from his skin as he could. Instead, he wrapped himself in the now warmed blanket Kacchan had left for him, soft and warm and smelling right in his arms.

It was perfect in his nest. Perfect and just the thing he needed to lull himself to a deep, dreamless sleep, worries lost in the haze of scent.

___________

The following day was much the same as the last: a pile of food on the front porch, though simpler fare from the day before. Fish, meat, and mushrooms laid in perfect piles before him, cleaned in whatever way was best for their kind, and broken down to their usable parts to save him the trouble. Another gift was with them: a scenting stone the size of his fist, ruby red and soaked with Katsuki's oils, almost making Izuku gag with how strongly his already nauseous stomach and nose were assaulted. As if invading their home with his scent would make up for the missed time and exhaustion weighing on his bones.

Izuku nudged it to the side with his foot, covering his nose and mouth with one hand as the other worked to move the food brought to him inside. A beautiful gift, indeed, one a courting couple or a normal mated pair would love, especially if it came as a set, one he could also soak and give back to Katsuki, ensuring their scents would never fade from their home should they be separated again. The potency, however, and his stomach weren't agreeing.

Something Katsuki noticed.

By the time Izuku returned to the outside world, food put away and set to cure and his nightgown in hand, Katsuki was already standing by the porch, leaning against one of the thick logs keeping the overhang up. He looked like he had been for a while from the snow on his coat and hat, even if Izuku knew that spot had been empty just a few moments before. Arms crossed, eyes fixed on the stone Izuku had pushed aside; even still, Izuku was once again glad for the thick coat that kept him hidden.

"Feeling alright? Looked like you were in pain earlier."

Concern under the relaxed casualness of his tone - he wasn't going to push, was going to accept whatever Izuku gave him. Knew he had to earn more. He was grateful for that, at least.

"It's been so long; the extra scent made me feel a bit dizzy," Izuku half lied, ignoring the twist in his stomach at how Katsuki's face fell. It wasn't unheard of for pregnant omegas to find their mate's smell sickening at times; poor Momo had spent days at a time in between homes during various parts of Jirou's expectancy, driven out when their bond couldn't override her nausea. But scent rejection could also be a sign of something else, a rejection of a bond between a strained pair when wounds just ran far too deep. "I'll take it inside later when I'm used to the strength," Izuku gave, ignoring how his stomach and child flipped at the spark that returned to Katsuki's eyes - hope not lost, if slightly dimmed. Even he couldn't do that to him, at least not until he knew for sure what he wanted to do.

"He'll make it up to you, and you'll come to forgive him, once he's earned it. Once he's properly explained. And this too will pass."

Chiyo's words were a comfort, yes, and rarely had she been wrong. She, out of all of the elders, was least likely to be wrong in these kinds of matters, having seen so many before. And yet.

And yet.

Izuku shook his head, forcing himself to focus back on the world around him. He couldn't do anything yet, not one way or the other. Not until his child was born, until he was strong enough to survive a broken bond, if that was what he chose. If it would be easier to raise their child by himself than worry he'd wake to find them left behind once again for someplace he couldn't follow. So instead, he focused on Katsuki and the words he was saying, some of them already lost to the cold air around them.

"-something I can do it. Shouldn't be wandering around if you're not feelin' well."

Oh, he was cruel. Because it was easy for Izuku to smile at Katsuki's offer and hold out his nightgown, letting the alpha take the garment from him. Easy to watch as his eyes widened and pupils dilated at the scent of slick and cum, as he swallowed hard as he looked between Izuku and what Katsuki now held.

"If you could take that to the river and wash it for me," Izuku said brightly, "I would appreciate it, Bakugou. Just hang it up when you're done. I'll grab it when I check on Mighty later."

Let him be surrounded by the scent of Izuku's arousal and release at the river they'd spent so many days playing and doing chores, where more than once their washing had been forgotten in exchange for each other. Where they'd swam and fucked and enjoyed the short summer sun in each other's arms, forgetting the world for each other. It was a little reminder of what he couldn't have, what was locked behind their door in their warm nest while it was too cold for him to do anything about it.

Katsuki nodded again and let Izuku close the door at the sight of him slowly raising the garment to his face, breathing deeply into what he was missing.

__________

The gown was scrubbed clean and hanging from the overhang when Izuku left a few hours later, dried apple in hand for Mighty. Clean and reeking of desperate alpha even through the frosty covering, wanting and as tempting as the other offerings left.

_________

They fell into a routine, awkward as it was.

Izuku would awaken to food and a gift on the porch, whatever Katsuki had managed to hunt and gather during his exile from their home, cleaned and prepared to be stored for the rest of the season. The food he would bring in, putting away to hold him over until winter had passed, and spring brought new sources of warmth and food. The gift he left behind, waiting to be covered in snow. When he slept, Izuku wasn't sure, because it wasn't just him who found these gifts - whenever Izuku wandered into town, boredom and the need for a companion not within him forcing him from the comfort of his home, there was a new life in the village. More food had been added to the stores; not just the small mammals caught in traps or the occasional fish but pounds of it, enough for the villagers to take their fill. Deer, elk, and even a moose found their way into the village, lifting spirits that had been dragging for far too long.

And on each visit, Katsuki was there. He and Queen were never far behind on those trips into town, a constant, protective presence wherever Izuku decided to wander. Ignoring that he could care for himself, thank you very much: he'd been on par with Katsuki as a hunter just a few months ago, before his drop, and he was determined to train and regain his skills once he'd had his pup. No one had been able to hold a candle to the two of them. While others in the village tried and had more failed hunts than successes, their skills more suited for creation or other forms of sustainability, they had been the ones to master the silence, the dexterity, the hands and eyes needed for their particular job, grim but necessary as it was.

Izuku was still capable, heavy and swollen as he was, and could prove it if needed. If the constant watchdog his husband had become ever made it necessary.

But for now, Izuku accepted it, despite the way it just made him clutch his thick coat closer to him. Allowed the constant watch each time he left his home, traveled into town, and accepted warm invitations to his friend's homes. Chiyo's words were endless in his ears as he watched how hard Katsuki worked to feed him, feed their people, and keep him safe like he should have from the beginning.

It was easier, as the days passed, to accept it. Not that he would forgive Katsuki, no - that he still balked at, his anger twisted within his chest, unwilling to detangle the threads to find the logical end. But to at least listen. That was something he could accept he could do. Listen and decide, once he knew everything he should. To wait until he had all the facts to give his anger a direction for his future.

Which made it harder as, each night, he broke. Broke and retrieved whatever Katsuki had left for him that morning, adding the newest gift to the little stock Katsuki had been plying him with. Some things were simple - more cloth he wove into his nest, soaked in Katsuki's scent that Izuku let seep into his skin and lungs, settling back into place like it had never left. Like he'd never suffered from the lack of it, from the oils growing stale and his scent fading from their nest, their home, their den. Others beyond measure, forcing him to bite his tongue to keep from searching for him, demanding stories and answers to his questions: uncut gems that even to Izuku's eyes he knew was worth a great deal; leather engraved with ancient runes; a talisman that sparked when he touched it, humming with the ancient magic long since lost to their world.

It angered him as much as it intrigued him, these complicated gifts that told as many stories as questions they raised. He'd wanted to be there, finding them by Katsuki's side, not receiving them when the quest was already over. And now, without the story attached at all.

Still, each night he broke. Broke and brought each gift home, finding a place for them to settle on the barren shelves, the cleared walls. They filled their house with his scent, his trophies, his gifts - everything except him.

Making it worse when all of it called for Izuku, the bond begging him to open the door and let him back inside. To embrace his husband and mate with open arms, heart longing for a proper reunion instead of this half-joining he'd insisted on. Body reacting to the gestures, the providing, the absolute need that Izuku had been aware of throughout his pregnancy but ignored out of convenience. Only now, his alpha was here, could take care of him if he let him; why did he deny himself that joy?

He was tired of handing off his nightgown in the morning to be washed, even if he took sick pleasure in Katsuki's reactions to the smell of his slick and spend.

It was a strange routine they fell into, awkward and odd as they danced around each other. As Izuku kept his secret, kept Katsuki at arm's length, and kept his distance to watch and wait and see if the words of comfort given were true. As Katsuki worked and waited for when Izuku was ready to listen, working off his transgressions against the omega and town at large, working himself to exhaustion without signs of letting himself rest. As they both existed within each other's worlds without crossing those drawn lines, instead allowing things to lay as they would.

Until the blizzard hit.

_________

Izuku's first thought at the sight of white was his mother.

The caravan had left weeks ago, carts piled high with pelts and crafted goods and medicinal herbs, anything they could spare at the time to trade with the neighboring towns and villages for food. His mother had been cheerful as she said her goodbyes, eyes bright as she promised she'd be back soon - this wasn't anywhere near her first circuit, nor would it be her last. She knew the trails and the people they would meet and would be back in time to help bring her grandchild into the world.

Izuku had bitten his tongue. She knew the trails when they were clear of snow, when travelers and other traders had pushed back the encroaching foliage and left the path easy for her to walk; not when ice and snow were waiting for her to slide. She knew the people in the other towns when they were fat and happy and drunk on summer wine, coming to them with clay and metal and cloth, the goods their people were well known for; not when they were possibly hungry themselves, waiting for something to take to fulfill that need. She promised things she couldn't necessarily keep, which terrified him, the idea of birthing his child without his mate and his mother. Of having to do it with strangers, or even worse, alone, the weight of new life entirely on his shoulders.

Instead, he had kissed her goodbye, had hugged her and his stepfather Toshinori close, and watched them leave. Had taken comfort in the sight of Aizawa, Yamada, and Nemuri as guards by their sides, hoping to the gods it was enough. Once again, he cursed his weakness that he couldn't join them, couldn't do anything but sit and wait.

That had been weeks ago, and all he could do was hope the blizzard hadn't found them or found them when they were safe and warm.

His second thought, as the fog of sleep passed, was of Kacchan. Because even as the wind screamed outside of his warm haven, Izuku knew he was alone.

Kacchan was still outside.

Izuku barely thought long enough to slide on his boots and slip on his heavy coat - he was still wearing his nightgown and had forgotten his hat, gloves, and scarf. Could only think far enough ahead to throw open the door and stumble into the snow, into the blinding white that screeched around him, trying to make his voice heard above the din.

"Kacchan!"

He doubted he was heard - his words were swept away by the ice and wind before they left his lips, lips that were already beginning to turn white from the cold as he stumbled forward. Ever forward as he searched, as he screamed, as tears froze on his cheeks because yes, he was angry, he was still furious, but this was Kacchan. The man he loved more than life itself, who had saved him during the Lovian raids and who he had saved in turn, who had stood by his side to face death and come out the other side as his. He was always going to take him back, accept him as his own, keep him until they joined together in the Light. Make him pay, yes, but always with the knowledge that at the end of his debt, he'd be home.

"Kacchan, where are you?"

Izuku wasn't even sure where he was, how long he'd been out of the house; just that his throat had gone sore from calling for his husband, his mate, begging for an answer. But what kind of answer was he expecting? He had no idea where Katsuki had been staying all this while. While the average camp could protect against a standard winter's night, there was no way he'd survive in this weather. There was no way he had found shelter in the forest to weather out the sudden storm, somewhere where he wouldn't starve, freeze, or leave Izuku alone again, only this time for good.

Izuku could feel his voice faltering, his feet stumbling in the snow. He had tried so hard and fought for so long, but he was so tired. So cold.

"Kacchan, please..."

"I got yah."

He didn't feel the gloved hands and careful jaw close around his arms and the back of his coat, but Izuku did feel the warmth of Mighty under him, frozen fingers curling into the thick wool radiating warmth. He did hear Katsuki barking orders to Queen, telling her to lead them back. Opening his eyes (when had they closed?), Izuku saw Katsuki, bundled up nice and warm, hay sticking out of his clothes, walking beside Mighty to keep him on the ram. Braving the storm to get him.

"Kacchan."

Red eyes turned towards him, soft and worried and relieved. Katsuki's eyes flickered between Izuku's face and his hand, a hand he hadn't even realized had reached out toward him. A hand shaking and white, the slightest bit of blue tinging the tips of his fingers, but still reaching out towards Katsuki.

Katsuki slid off his mitten, instead sliding it onto Izuku's outstretched hand. A few steps and he was on the other side of Mighty, carefully working Izuku's other frozen set of fingers into the mitten even as they walked, as they continued to follow Queen's dark, hulking form through the every oppressing white, leaving his own bare to the elements but Izuku's protected.

"We're almost home, Izuku," Katsuki screamed over the ice and wind. "I've got you."

He knew he shouldn't, that falling asleep while cold was the worst thing to do, but Izuku couldn't stop his eyes from falling shut once more, lulled by Mighty's warmth and the fact that, yes, Kacchan had him.

___________

It was warm.

It was almost stifling when Izuku woke back up. He was sweating under the pile of blankets he'd been covered with, most of them he recognized from the nest. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, flames jumping and crackling across the pile of wood. He could feel his fingers again, feel his naked toes curl against the accumulation of furs he'd curled into. Letting out a yawn, Izuku slowly pushed himself up, clutching at the soaked but warm oversized winter coat he still wore.

"Thank the gods you're awake."

Izuku jumped, turning to see Katsuki sitting at the table. He'd stripped himself of his own wet clothes, leaving him in just the slim under-tunic and pants that had Izuku staring, taking in all of his husband for the first time since he'd returned. There was relief in his form, thick bags under his eyes, slumped against the wood they'd carved with their own bare hands, tension bleeding from the broad, corded muscles of his arms and neck. Though it soon returned as he forced himself to his feet, closing the distance between them.

"You fought me earlier when I tried to get it off you," Katsuki grunted, motioning towards Izuku's coat, "so I did what I could. But you need to take it off if you don't want to get sick."

Reflexively Izuku held it closer, leaning away from the large hands that reached out toward him. Not on purpose, he didn't think; he'd become so used to this coat being his shield, the wool, leather, and patches protecting him from more than just the cold. It was hard to face the fact that it might be time to give it up. To let the truth come out, to let Katsuki see what it was he was hiding.

"Kacchan," Izuku said slowly, "I..."

"Did something happen? Durin' your drop?" Izuku watched as Katsuki lowered himself to the ground, careful to stay on the edge of the makeshift nest. Even if it wasn't one Izuku had claimed, it still warmed him to see Katsuki keeping that respect, giving him the space and letting him choose who entered the little circle of cloth now his. "Ever since I got back, whenever I get close, you clutch at that coat like a pup does their mother." Katsuki ran a hand through his hair before pinching the bridge of his nose, forcing a deep breath. Showing the evident shaking in his hands that Izuku knew wasn't a trick of the flickering light, but the nerves, fear, and anger at the idea of him being even more hurt that brought it to the surface.

"I'm sorry." Katsuki said after a long moment, breaking the silence. "For everything I did, Izuku, I'm sorry. I'll spend the rest of our lives trying to make it up to you, make it better. You don't need to forgive me, but I've never been more sorry in my life. And if something did happen during your drop, you don't have to tell me what, but it's not going to change anything. Not for me."

"If you're sorry, then why did you leave," Izuku asked, his voice cracking. Immediately Katsuki was on his feet again, a wooden cup of freshly melted water in his hands, held out for Izuku to take. It was hard to handle; his hands tingled, the red flush of recovering flesh just on the line of pain. Still, he handled it alone, taking the cup with both hands and bringing it to his lips, ignoring the small trickle that made its way across his chin in favor of the relief for his throat. Katsuki just watched, only moving to take the cup back when Izuku was done, freely handing it back to him.

"I just wanted to go with you, Kacchan," Izuku finally sighed. "I'd compiled all of your mother's records, your grandmother's notes. I'd marked on maps the most likely locations. I'd talked to my mother and the elders about the village having no hunters for a few seasons. I was prepared." He hated that his voice cracked, that tears edged his vision, but Izuku couldn't stop those. He could, however, keep pushing forward and finally understand.

"You disappeared in the middle of the night." The guilt on his face was obvious, though Izuku had no intentions of letting him off easily. "You took your pack, left me behind, and didn't even say goodbye. Why, Kacchan?"

"Would it help," Katsuki offered slowly, "to know I almost killed the idiots when I found out they had tracked me?"

Izuku tilted his head, surprised. Why would he be so hostile to his pack? Still, he nodded, wanting more to see what else Katsuki had to say.

"I did tell them I was leaving," Katsuki offered, "but I never said they could come with me. I intended to do this alone. Well," he huffed, "as alone as Queen would let me be, damn mutt."

"You love her, shut up," Izuku quipped back automatically, years of defending the wolf letting the words fall easily from his tongue. They both smiled at it, even as Katsuki shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He waved Izuku off, readjusting himself to be more comfortable on the wooden floor. "I tried a couple of times to lose them, but the bastards kept finding me. And by that point, I was pretty sure they'd get themselves killed trying to find their way home alone, so I just let them stay. If I had a choice in the matter, I would have chosen to take you, Zuku."

"A choice," Izuku asked, keying in on that word choice. "What do you mean, 'a choice?'"

It was strange to see Katsuki nervous. Or, maybe, unsettled? Either way, he was picking at the edge of a blanket, sharp nails quick to find a thread and begin slowly unraveling it. Unable to meet Izuku's gaze, instead focused on the fire before them, watching the dancing glow that warmed them.

He looked far older than he was at that moment, far older than their experiences would give him reason to be.

"My family line," Katsuki began slowly, still carefully unthreading the edge of the old, fraying blanket, "is an old one. You know that." Izuku nodded, even though Katsuki wasn't watching. "I was always told we descended from the Dragon Kings, back when men held powers in the palm of their hands, not from potions and incantations. That's why each new member of my name has to search for them: even if dragons haven't been seen in a thousand years, since Winter came and we lost our powers, we still have to search."

Izuku continued to nod. This was all old information to him, things he had heard just as often as Kacchan had. If not more, since he had continued to enjoy sitting by Uncle Masaru long after Katsuki had taken to the fields for training. They had both known Katsuki would have to fulfill his generational quest one day. Still, they'd always promised Izuku would go as well.

"The hag told me I'd know when it was time for me to go on my hunt." Katsuki finally looked up, meeting and matching Izuku's gaze. "What she didn't tell me was how damn much it'd actually hurt."

At that, Katsuki lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head, turning so Izuku could see his back.

They were beautiful, shimmering in the firelight; reds, oranges, and a couple of greens were all along his spine. They looked sharp, even as Izuku wanted to reach out and touch them, to run his fingers up and down the edge and see if they would cut his skin. Wanted to examine these new additions to his husband, his scales.

"It's different for each one," Katsuki huffed, turning his head over his shoulder to see Izuku still staring, transfixed. "Ma just got some fangs. Back felt like someone was holding a candle to it until I left. Then it just got worse the more I searched. Eventually, these popped out, and it was almost better than sex." His sharp, teasing grin was enough to break Izuku out of his trance, enough to make him flush and realize he'd been muttering to himself, consumed in his curiosity.

"That explains why you left," Izuku said, gripping his coat tightly to avoid reaching for Katsuki's back. "Not why you left me."

Watching the scales ripple as Katsuki breathed was fascinating, his muscles and skin flexing as his chest expanded. Izuku wondered how they felt to Katsuki, the change from skin to scale and back again, if it impacted his flexibility or strength of his spine. If they were susceptible to the cold, or if they would were warm to the touch. If-

Izuku shook his head, forcing his thoughts back on track at Katsuki's raised eyebrow. His husband knew him well, much to Izuku's chagrin, and had waited until he was back to continue.

"My grandparents went together." His voice was matter-of-fact. As if Izuku hadn't known his grandmother, a shell of a woman who'd died when they were young. "She didn't feel the call until after the hag was born, and 'Pa insisted on going with her. They were the first to break the rules, that only the called could go on the hunt." A little shrug, as if trying to release the tension trying to draw his shoulders to his ears. "I don't understand it, just know I was told by her and Ma that her breaking the rules forced her to make a choice. I don't know the details, just that Pa never came back. And when I heard the call, I just knew." Katsuki met his gaze, the hand pulling apart the blanket stopping to instead reach out towards him, stopping just short of making contact.

"If you came, I'd have had to make the same choice. And I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"But your pack?" Izuku asked weakly, heart pounding in his ears as he continued to meet Katsuki's gaze. As he saw the truth and depths of devotion in his eyes, the pain at the thought of losing him. The same pain that had sent Izuku running into a blizzard to find him, not knowing if he was in danger to begin with because the very thought that he might be lost had been too much to bear.

He'd seen the pain Katsuki's grandmother had lived in, decades even after her mate had passed. He could still be mad, but how could he blame Kacchan for protecting them from that fate?

"They'll argue they were just giving me a break," Katsuki chuckled, "but I managed to lose them for a few days. That was when I found it."

Izuku's breath caught in his chest, because he couldn't be implying what he was. Katsuki couldn't be suggesting that the legends and stories were true, that he'd found The Trove, the dragon's final resting place. Where they'd slept and called for Katsuki's kin for the last thousand years, since the final Dragon King had disappeared and the winter had come. Since magic had drained from the land, leaving only potions and runes and empty blood that once thrummed with power. He couldn't.

Katsuki lifted his empty hand, palm towards the sky, and Izuku watched as sparks of flame played across his skin. As new smoke filled their home - not the smoke of wood but tinged with the scent of his alpha, the right side of burnt sweetness Izuku couldn't name but now was stronger, almost overpowering. As another crackling joined that of the fire's, only coming from Katsuki's flesh instead of flame.

Katsuki had magic.

"I can take you once you're recovered from your drop." Katsuki closed his hand, the crackles and pops of his magic glowing through his fingers before stopping, dying in the darkness of his fist. "The dragon skeletons are bigger than houses, with enough of their magic remaining that they could...not talk; that's a bad word, but that's the best I can describe it. More than enough gold that everyone in the village could have their own kingdom if they wanted one. And the books, Deku, you'll never be bored again. As the Dragon King's heir, it's all mine."

Katsuki's hand was warm when he reached out, when Izuku closed that gap between them and took it. Warmer than it had any right to be, almost enough to leave him worried if Izuku hadn't seen the fire not a moment before. When Katsuki intertwined their fingers, Izuku let him, and returned the squeeze given.

"As my mate," Katsuki continued quietly, raising Izuku's scarred hand to his lips, each word brushing soft skin against the raised tissue, "all that's mine is yours. Whatever lies within The Trove is ours to do with as we please."

"No one in the village would ever be hungry again." Already his mind was racing; he didn't doubt what Katsuki said. The magic was proof of that. And with what he said being true, no one they loved would have to suffer ever again. "No one on the circuit would be hungry, Kacchan. We can pay for weapons and training to protect everyone against raiders, in case the Lovians ever return. We could build a library for the books, maybe even open a school for the pups. Kacchan!" He clutched at Katsuki's hand, eyes bright and smile wide, joy and excitement filling him for the first time in months. "I want to see it."

"You will," Katsuki promised. His other hand had come up, cupping Izuku's cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of the bone. Izuku couldn't help but lean into it, a soft purr rumbling in his chest at the touch. These he'd missed the most over Katsuki's absence, the little moments between them like this. Those missing seconds had made up so much of their lives together, looks and touches and smiles that had suddenly been absent from his world. "First thing when spring comes, I'll take you."

That caused Izuku to pause, biting his lip as he worked through the timeline as he knew it. Maybe by fall he could travel, fully recovered and their pup old enough to brave the roads and world, but spring was far too soon. Gently he pulled away, hands automatically going to pull his coat around him, breaking their conjoined gazes.

"Spring will be too soon," Izuku said slowly, mind racing as he tried to find the best way to continue, to spring upon Katsuki that he'll be a father in a few short weeks. "I'll need more time to heal."

Katsuki's face hardened, but all he did was nod, the hands that had fallen into his lap when Izuku had pulled away clenching into fists. "When you are, then," he said, voice tight. "Whenever that might be."

Izuku chewed on his tongue, trying to find the words. Trying to end the last bit of cruelty by keeping Katsuki in the dark for this, perhaps the greatest of the secrets held between them. For too long, it seemed, if the grinding of Katsuki's jaw and the crackle from his hands were to go off of.

"I said you didn't need to tell me what happened," Katsuki said slowly, as if the words hurt to say, "and that still stands. But if something did happen, just give me a name. They'll die."

That Izuku didn't doubt, from the anger he could smell seeping into Katsuki's scent, the crackling quickening with each passing moment of silence. He could only imagine the thoughts passing through his mind, the worries that came from the idea of Izuku being in drop and Katsuki not there to protect him, to not help him through. It wasn't unheard of for the worst to find omegas in their weakest, to take advantage of those moments, to cause the worst kind of pain.

Izuku shook his head, a small, reassuring smile on his lips as he reached forward to curl Katsuki's hand closed once again. If something had happened, he doubted the offending party would have survived his pack's wrath, much less left any for Katsuki to find once they were done with clean-up. But thankfully, nothing of the sort had occurred, instead leaving him safe in his mother's nest, his pack by his side to care for him.

"Nothing happened, I promise." Katsuki relaxed at that, though now he was just confused. "I just don't know how to tell you what is happening. It's a lot to take in."

"More than the fact I have scales and magic?" They both laughed at that, Izuku shaking his head. Though at the mention of his scales, it gave Izuku an idea.

Much easier to show than tell.

Izuku struggled to his feet, ignoring Katsuki's offered hand of help. He had a few ideas of what might come next, and none of them let him do much on his own after this. Something he was looking forward to, if he was being honest with himself.

It took a long moment, once Izuku was standing, to finally let go of his coat. To finally undo the ties that had kept the thick, heavy garment over him this whole time, keeping him a formless blob, covered by leather and wool and thread. All the while, Katsuki watched him closely, eyes trailing after every movement of his hands, searching for what Izuku was keeping a secret.

Eyes that widened when Izuku finally let the coat slide from his shoulders, clad in just his thin nightgown. His swollen stomach fully shown, a clear sign of what it was as Izuku cradled it in his hands. It wasn't as large as a female omegas' or betas', and the lack of food and constant push to move, to hunt, to survive had curved the weight he knew he should have gained, an anxiety he refused to let himself think upon. Still, the constant movements within him, the kicks to his sides that brought as much comfort as pain, reassured him their child was alright, as healthy as they could be in the circumstance they had found themselves.

He expected Katsuki to say something. Questions, concern, perhaps even outrage at the secrecy. He wasn't expecting him to cry, for tears to begin rolling down stunned cheeks as he rose from where he sat to his knees, reaching for Izuku, stopping before he made contact. He wasn't expecting Katsuki's hands, already so dangerous before with a weapon and now weapons themselves, to shake as they hung in midair. He wasn't expecting the pitiful whine to leave his lips, desperate and needy but unsure if he was allowed.

Izuku took that step forward, closing the distance between them, and let Katsuki wrap his arms around his waist. Let him press his face against his stomach, furiously rubbing his cheeks and the small gland on the underside of his chin against the fabric, coating them in his scent. Let his tears soak onto the cloth as Izuku ran his hands through Katsuki's hair, down his neck, and over his shoulders, marking with the glands on his wrist even as he soothed with the same quiet noises his mother had used on him.

How long they stayed like that, Izuku wasn't sure. Long enough for his nightgown to be soaked. Long enough for Katsuki to cry himself quiet, body wracking sobs eventually dying out to little hurt noises, ones he hadn't heard from the alpha since he was a pup. Long enough for their child to kick Katsuki hard on the cheek, startling them both out of whatever painful revelry they'd fallen into. Both staring at each other in shock, the feel of their child shifting and settling under Katsuki's hold a balm.

The laughter edged on hysterical, almost unintelligibly from the previous sobs if not for the both of them partaking, bodies shaking with mirth. Together they sunk back into the makeshift nest Katsuki had made by the fire, Izuku shifting them so he was more comfortable on his side. Small fits of giggles continued to burst from them as they lay there, pressed together face to face, cheeks red from joy and the little foot that had made contact with Katsuki's.

"How far along are you?" Katsuki finally asked, breathless and smiling, eyes rimmed red and still shiny. An absolute mess, but Izuku's.

"I'm due in a few weeks, by Chiyo's best guess." He felt almost boneless, soft, warm, and loved in Kacchan's arms. He could feel that lingering doubt that had lived in the back of his mind ever since he'd awoken from his drop finally fade, the reminder that he'd been abandoned by the man who claimed to love him for once quiet. Katsuki's warm hands on his stomach and hip were a gentle reminder, lulling him unlike anything before.

"So you were a few months along when I left." Katsuki's arm tightened around him, pulling Izuku so his face was pressed against Katsuki's neck, so Katsuki's face was buried in his hair. "No wonder you dropped when my dad was just fine. I could have lost you. Both of you, and never even known." His voice grew bitter as he spoke, his scent almost caustic in Izuku's nose.

"But I didn't," Izuku said quickly, nosing at Katsuki's chest. "I'm strong, and we survived. Besides," Izuku teased, "you wouldn't have mated me if I couldn't kick your ass."

Katsuki just grumbled at that, though his scent lightened, even as he continued to hold Izuku tight. The hand between them continued to stroke Izuku's swollen stomach, tracing the swell, jumping each time they felt the child move to follow the sensation.

This was how it always should have been, but he was thankful it was like this now.

"Just let me know when you want me to leave." His voice was soft even as his words broke the peace between them. Even before they'd registered, Izuku had sat up, flailing as the extra weight tried to keep him deep.

"You're never leaving again." Maybe not as menacing as he had planned, in a crumpled and dirty nightgown, hair a tangled mess, but Katsuki still shrunk from Izuku's glare. "Where were you even staying to begin with? How did you not freeze when the blizzard hit?"

"I've been in the barn. Plenty warm in there with your giant ass sheep," Katsuki chuckled, carefully helping Izuku lay back down, readjusting a blanket to cover him. "I'd snag a nap between hunts and leave before you went to check on him. If you want me to stay, I'll stay; there's no need to cause a fit."

"Like you weren't the one who flipped a table at the Summer's Celebration because they ran out of candied orange peels," Izuku yawned. Katsuki was safe inside, and their animals were undoubtedly safe in the barn too. There was nothing to worry about, not here, not now. "You're more likely to make a scene than I am."

"I was nine!"

Whatever excuse Katsuki had as he continued to talk was lost, Izuku having already fallen asleep in his arms.

___________

Three days.

After that first night, Katsuki helped Izuku rebuild the nest, carefully handing over each blanket as he worked to replace them where they needed to go on top of the soft pillow base. Hours of weaving, adjusting, tearing it down, and building it back up, all while the storm screamed around them. By the time it was finally done, the entire bedroom once again smelled like them, and not in the second-hand way it had become from the gifts Katsuki had been leaving to re-court him; no, this was them, soaked into the blankets Katsuki had subtly scented, layered over by Izuku's own instinctual need to mark them. The way it had smelled when they were pups, sharing a nest while their parents worked. When they grew older and snuck into each other's rooms, hiding from scowls and disapproving looks to be with their best friend. When they first moved in as hunters, both too hesitant to move forward but wanting nothing more than a path they could walk together.

How their lives had smelled ever since the raids almost took them from each other, gave them scars that forced them to realize life was too short for hesitating. Since they bore each other's marks on their neck.

This smell was them.

The smell Izuku slept blanketed in each night alone, because Katsuki insisted on sleeping by the fire.

It was clear he wanted more - each time the alpha came close, his tells were there. Tells that Izuku had spent so many years learning to read and respond to, his own desires so wrapped in Katsuki's it was hard to tell who set off who. After that first night, after the nest was recreated, Izuku assumed Katsuki would take his place by his side and warm the nest and him through that cold winter's night. Only for him to be hesitant. Wanting but not asking, not moving forward, as if he was scared of rejection.

Instead, Katsuki kept himself busy, as busy as you could be in a blizzard.

Tending to the animals was quick; apparently, whatever magic Katsuki had gained from finding his ancestral heritage made it easier for him to move in the snow and keep warm as he trekked the short distance from home to the barn and back again. Something Izuku envied him for. His body had come out none the worse for wear after his trip into the cold, though his hands still ached at the thought of returning outside, of the long exposure they'd endured. How long neither of them knew: he hadn't gotten far, just into the tree line on the far side of the barn when Queen and Mighty heard him, but time had been strange for Izuku, so whether it'd been a minute or an hour to walk that distance, he didn't know. Katsuki had just been quick to return him to the house, settle him by the fire, put away the animals, and begin trying to warm him, unaware of the other details besides those that mattered at that moment.

Besides the animals, Katsuki took stock of their home. Apparently, his first visit, when Izuku had thrown him out, hadn't been long. Just long enough to use his magic to start a fire; only a few minutes before Izuku came home, dagger drawn and ready to end him. Nowhere near long enough to take in the actual state of their home. To see the shelves empty of the collection they had spent so long working on, their favorite books traded for food. To see the small bits of the house that had fallen into disrepair, Izuku too sick or exhausted to care for them; nothing structural, but enough. To see what had been fixed with the limited time and energy to spare.

It was impressive, watching him work from the pile of pillows Izuku had been banished to, where food was brought, and he could only leave when it was time to move to his nest. To watch as Katsuki carved away the bits of a board that were beginning to fail, letting them last the last few weeks they needed until spring. To watch as his hands heated metal butter soft, allowing him to twist and shape what he needed to keep splintering beans in place. To watch as he dusted and scrubbed and cursed out the dirt goblins that had dared to invade their home.

For three days, they lived like this. Katsuki kept busy, Izuku watching as he moved, their scents thick between them as they both gave and read and received tells they had once used as much as words only now refused to act on. Three days.

On the night of the third day, Izuku broke.

"Sleep in our nest with me."

Katsuki paused, the cloth he'd been using to wipe down their walls clenching in his hand. Already his scent had spiked with interest, even as Katsuki himself stood still, only turning his head to look at where Izuku stood in the doorway.

"I thought you were still mad at me." Not a question but a statement. A reasonable conclusion; Izuku hadn't told Katsuki he was forgiven, and yes, the embers of rage were still there. He could understand, agree even with the choices made, and still feel hurt about how they were handled. And yet-

"I miss you more."

There were no more questions. Katsuki instead just dropped the cloth he'd been using to turn entirely towards Izuku. His eyes were dark as they took in his mate, his outstretched hand, the way the other caressed his stomach. The way Izuku was looking back at him, eyes hooded, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as slowly, oh so slowly, he bared his neck.

Izuku laughed as his feet left the floor, Katsuki's arms solid under his legs as he carried him towards their room, their nest. To anyone else, the aggressive growl would have been terrifying, a warning, a threat against taking another step forward; Izuku felt his hole clench around nothing as he began to slick, as his dick began to harden at the audible sound of Katsuki's repressed desire. It was need, pure and simple, a call he was happy to answer.

Despite this, Katsuki was careful laying him down, letting Izuku slip from his arms only when he was fully settled into the nest. There was reverence in his movements as he looked down upon him, a hesitance as his large, warm hands reached out to stroke his stomach.

"It won't hurt them, will it?"

A shake of his head was all Katsuki needed to strip, pulling his shirt from his shoulders as his pants fell, tangling around his ankles in his haste to move. The snort of laughter was quickly cut off as, for the first time in so long, Katsuki's lips met Izuku's. Again a contradiction, because while his hands were desperate, petting at his sides, his still covered thighs, against the curve of his steadily leaking ass, his lips were soft. An almost innocent press of their lips against each other's, so much like their first kiss, Izuku could almost believe they were seventeen again, bruised and bloodied from a war they never wanted but were forced to fight. Just realizing that time was not on their side and that now was the moment to breathe each other in.

The tips of their tongues brushed; the slightest of tastes as their bodies moved, Izuku's back meeting the wall of the nest, caressed by blankets and pillows and the unyielding wall so he could better breathe, the extra weight no longer pressing painfully against him. All while Katsuki's hands found the base of his nightgown and rucked it up to his stomach, both moaning as Katsuki rolled his hips directly against Izuku's, their naked dicks brushing.

"Fuck," Katsuki cursed, head falling to Izuku's shoulder as he rolled his hips again, Izuku's falling back against the wall because 'fuck' was right. Months without had made this, this unslicked, uncoordinated humping the best gods damn thing he'd ever felt, the dry drag of skin against hot skin everything he'd ever needed. Because Katsuki was holding his waist in place as their hips moved, was licking and sucking his way across his collarbone, was the one Izuku had instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around as they moved like they hadn't since they were teenagers who'd have to sneak out later to wash their pants in the river before their parents could smell them on each other.

His scales were soft, Izuku vaguely realized, one hand holding tight to his shoulder, the other following the line of his spine. They flexed with each roll of Katsuki's hips, twitched with each search for pleasure, and pressing down on them drew a low, strangled moan from Kacchan's throat, Izuku's thighs growing wet as his mate stilled against him.

"Fu-fuckin hell, don't do that," Katsuki panted, face flushed more than cumming should have made it as he lifted from Izuku's shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. He was embarrassed, embarrassed that he'd cum so quickly, that he had a new weakness so easy to exploit, that Izuku was still hard beneath him.

He needed to get over that now.

"It's ok, Kacchan," Izuku purred, pressing his hand to the base of his neck, right where the scales began. "I got distracted by your pretty scales." Slowly, scale by scale, Izuku drew his fingers down Katsuki's spine, pressing down almost hard enough to feel the bones under them. The desperate twitch of his spent cock against Izuku's hard one, matched with the strangled moan, made him smile. "Be good and take care of it for me? Please, Kacchan?" A swipe of his chin right across Katsuki's cheek - a blatant scenting, his arousal and need right by his nose.

Katsuki's eyes were blown, embarrassment forgotten as he moved back into the nest, his mates' call too much to resist.

Izuku squeaked as Katsuki lifted his legs, settling them over his shoulders, spread wide enough that his head fit comfortably between his thighs. Sharp teeth left little nips across his skin, interspersed with gentle licks as he took his time leaving his mark. As he slowly worked his way up to where Izuku's dick still stood, licking his own cum from where Katsuki had spilled across his skin but ignoring Izuku himself. His eyes never left his face as Izuku whined and squirmed, hands in his hair unsuccessfully trying to tug him where Izuku wanted. His muscular neck resisted the pull, smirking as his lips pressed against the base of Izuku's dick, an eyebrow raised as he waited.

"Kacchan," Izuku whined, bucking the best he could in Katsuki's unwavering hold. "Please."

It was always a sight to see Katsuki suck him off, his pretty lips spread thin around his short, thick shaft. A picture Izuku craved, even if he couldn't watch for long, eyes falling closed as he indulged in the feeling of his husband's talented mouth. The drag of his lips as Katsuki bobbed his head, the tip of his dick touching the back of his throat each time he bottomed out. His tongue constantly tracing along the vein, the underside of his head, his slit when he pulled off to take a breath. Each time he hummed as he swallowed around him, drinking down the steadily leaking pre.

All while those burning eyes continued to watch him, hot hands keeping his hips from fucking up into Katsuki's mouth, forcing him to stay there and take what Kacchan would give.

The desperate sob as Kasuki pulled off and away, so close to Izuku cumming, was met with a cruel chuckle. "Not such a cocky lil shit now, are you?" Another bite to his inner thigh, this one hard enough to make him jolt, his dick twitching, and all Izuku could do was whine again, trying to hump back up into the wet heat he was being denied.

"Please, Kacchan, please, I'm close, I- oh."

Izuku froze as his hips were hiked up higher, as Katsuki pressed his face forward between his cheeks and drew his tongue over his hole, licking at the slick that had leaked down his crack. As the tip of his tongue circled his twitching rim, hands finally leaving his hips to instead one spread him wide, the other taking side by his tongue to slowly massage him open. To carefully slip inside as slick soaked his finger, filled his mouth, honey sweet as he drank it down to drive his thirst. As he slid in deeper, stroking along Izuku's softened walls, pressing hard on the spot that had his back arching even despite the pressure trying to keep him still.

Katsuki moved just in time, lips sealing around the tip of his dick and sucking as Izuku came, a second finger joining the first to milk him from the inside, forcing him to spill into his mouth, down his throat, Katsuki swallowing it all.

"You're sweet," Katsuki commented, licking his lips as he pulled off Izuku's dick, the tip extending further to catch a few drops that had escaped him. Another dip of his head, sweeping his tongue up the length of his arm as he worked another finger into Izuku's ass, stretching him for what was to come. "I'll always keep you knocked up if it means avoiding your normal nasty spunk."

He was teasing, clearly, but still, Izuku scowled, at least the most he could when Katsuki pressed up against his prostate, face twisting in a whimper at the oversensitive pleasure wrecking his groin. He still swiped at him, barely missing as Katsuki dodged his hand.

"You've never complained before." Izuku panted back, biting his lip hard as Katsuki's final finger struggled in, the stretch uncomfortable after so long empty and without. Necessary, he knew, and would become so good soon, but still an uncomfortable adjustment, his changed body taking a moment to comply.

"Because I never knew you could taste so good."

Whatever response Izuku had was cut off as his lips were covered with Katsuki's, slick and wet and tasting of him. Not for the first time, neither of them were precious about tasting themselves on each other, but it was different, the small part of Izuku's brain that never settled noticed. The salty bittersweet tangy taste that usually coated Katsuki's tongue whenever he sucked him off and licked his slick was instead just plain sweet, almost overly so to him. Like just a handful of sugar, just without the grit.

Katsuki seemed to like it at least, licking into his mouth, along his teeth, sucking on his tongue before pulling away so they could breathe. Finally pulling his fingers from Izuku's ass and bringing them to his mouth, licking the slick that'd coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm just an inch away from Izuku's face, eyes fluttering in pleasure, scent spiking even more in desire.

It shouldn't have been that hot, shouldn't have made his breath catch in his throat, eyes wide as he watched Katsuki feast. It shouldn't have been. But the spreading spot of wetness beneath him and the valiant twitch of his dick had other things to say about it, and who was he to disagree?

"Come on, baby, up up. Not gonna risk crushing you and the brat."

Izuku pouted even as he helped Katsuki rearrange them, both sitting up with him straddling his husband's lap. It was almost laughable, him still clothed in his nightgown, Katsuki naked beneath him. Still, when he tried to remove the covering, Katsuki stopped him.

"I don't want you to get cold."

He'd never felt so warm in his life, not during the summer, not during his heat - it was only now in the arms of his mate, such a simple concern he never would have thought of voiced, that the heat through him burned. Rucking his gown up to his hips, Izuku reached back behind him, Katsuki's cock thick and heavy in his hand, throbbing in his palm. Aligning the tip, Izuku leaned forward to kiss Katsuki hard, sealing their lips together before slamming his hips down, seating himself in one swift move.

"Shit," Katsuki cursed, jerking away to press his forehead to Izuku's chest, "gods damn it, you're gonna make me knot already, Deku. Fuck, give me a minute. You're so damn tight."

But Izuku didn't want to wait. Being full for the first time since he'd found out he was pregnant, since his alpha had left, this physical reminder that he'd returned and was home and his had him urging to move, to take what he wanted and drive them both forward towards the completion he could feel building in his gut, in the way Kacchan's dick throbbed and twitched inside him every time he moved, circled his hips, clenched down on the length inside. It was hard to move, the extra weight of his stomach straining even his muscular legs, but soon enough Katsuki's hands on hips began to help, moving him up and down his length, fucking up to meet his downstroke so they crashed together again and again. Unable to support himself, Katsuki had fallen back to rest against the wall, Izuku following after, one hand on his shoulder while the other clutched at the wall, nails digging into the wood soaked in their scents to keep stable, keep moving, keep reaching for what he needed.

He needed more. Even as Kacchan's dick dragged perfectly inside him, his head brushing against his prostate each every thrust, hitting deep inside and curling his toes, twisting his stomach and chest and heart the tighter they were wound, the closer they got to the edge they were racing to, still he wanted more. Needed more to sake the need within him, to release the tension building, to spill once again into his nightgown and across Kacchan's stomach and chest. He needed, he needed-

Katsuki's head lulled to the side and Izuku struck, his teeth sinking into the gland on his neck, overlapping the mark he'd made all those years ago when they were young and new and staking their claims. Filling his mouth and coating his tongue in blood and oils, the very essence of his mate, his husband, his Kacchan. His mark throbbed in return at the renewal of his claim, Katsuki bucking wilding beneath him, growing knot pressing hard against his ass before finally slipping in, locking them together in a desperate grind. A grind right against his prostate, almost painful as it forced him over untouched, his teeth slipping from Katsuki's neck as he gasped for breath as he spilled over his stomach, soaking into the fabric that had fallen down to cover them, already wet from slick and sweat.

The hand resting on Kacchan's shoulder found the back of his neck instead, stroking those scales once again, pressing in as Katsuki's hands hardened and warmed on his hips, holding him down, stilling before spilling deep inside. Filling him with spurt after spurt of burning hot cum, locked between his already swollen womb and Katsuki's knot, filling his ass as his husband unloaded six months' worth of waiting into him.

Gentle hands turned his head, and Izuku bared his neck to Katsuki's searching lips, letting his teeth sink back into the mark he had left so long ago. Completing the rebonding Izuku had started, the pulse between them warm and soothing and theirs. The twinge of pain was worth it to have this and to know.

It took some rearranging to find a way to comfortably wait out his knot for them both. Eventually, they found the best position, both on their side, Katsuki curled around him, warm hand on his extra swollen stomach, calming the movements that bothered Izuku. Though even the sharp kicks of protest at having been disturbed by their activities couldn't dampen his mood, couldn't stop the constant purr rumbling in his chest. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he was content for now.

"Deku," Katsuki said, breaking the silence between them. His voice had a special kind of hesitance, a tone Izuku hadn't heard in a long while. "You have got to stop with the scale thing."

Izuku just laughed.

__________

It was glorious the day the blizzard broke.

It was surprisingly warm, when the skies finally cleared and the snow stopped, letting Izuku leave their home for the first time in a week. Not warm enough to forgo his regular clothes, Katsuki probably would have killed him if he tried, or at the very least used some of the glue he'd made from boiling animal bones and tendons to attach his coat permanently to his body. Still, he could already feel the heat around his collar and could see the way the snow was beginning to melt.

It truly had been the last winter storm. Spring was on its way.

It was a bit tricky, convincing Katsuki they should go into town. He could go, and was more than willing to check on everyone and return with news, but the impending arrival of their child had him on edge. Wanted to leave Izuku safe and warm and comfortable in their nest, ignoring the fact it severely needed to be aired out and cleaned from the last few days.

"Better you smell like old spunk than slip on ice and die."

Still, Izuku was headstrong and stubborn, more than a match for his husband, and soon found himself happily astrid Mighty. Katsuki and Queen were only a step away, of course, constantly checking in and racing head to hack down the same branches Izuku had been pushing away from his face for months. Not that he could blame him; the overwhelming urge must be hard to ignore, combined with the guilt he knew Katsuki still felt.

They'd talked over those last few days, weathering out the storm. Talked more about their thoughts, their feelings, Izuku listening intently as Katsuki laid out every step of his hunt for The Trove. Had argued and apologized and fucked their way into a comfortable place, where Katsuki's guilt no longer felt like it drowned him and Izuku's anger no longer threatened to burn. They still had more to work through, had some conversations that would take far longer than a single blizzard to find a way to start, but they were good.

They were strong, and when those conversations came, they'd work through them.

Starting with the trip to the village. Because waiting for them in the center of town was a circle of wagons Izuku was well familiar with, along with a small green beta woman that the sight of had Izuku sniffling. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed his mother during her short trip away, how much he'd longed for her during the more challenging moments of the last few weeks. It might have been easier if he could have talked to her about Kacchan, about the baby, about the swirling feelings keeping his mind in chaos the entire time before the blizzard.

But she was home, and he was ready to see her.

He wasn't ready for Inko to storm past him, sharp little beta claws raking across Katsuki's cheek before either of them could stop her. The scent of blood in the air had bile in his throat, even as he could see they were just thin scratches, the skin barely broken. Just enough for a few drops to drip down his jaw, falling to stain the white below.

"I can smell you all over him," Inko said cooly, tilting her head ever so slightly towards Izuku, "so I'm guessing the two of you have made up. But hurt him again, and I may have promised your parents that I'd care for you on their deathbeds, but I will send you to them. They can deal with you."

The jerked nod was all Katsuki gave, though it was clear from his eyes just how deep the fear for his mother-in-law went.

"Midoriya, my boy," Toshinori called from beside the cart, voice light and pleasant despite it all, trying to break the tension, "come and tell us how our grandchild is doing."

It was easy, then, to relax into the conversation, hearing tales of their travel around the circuit. The caravan had arrived the night before the storm had hit, had been safe from the cold by those few hours of grace, and had the wagons stored in the warehouse to be unloaded when the weather cleared. Izuku tried to help, but he had been quickly sent to the side, watching instead as the carts were emptied, Kacchan joining in to help as dried and salted meats, fish, and vegetables were taken into the storehouse to be portioned out to everyone later. It was more than enough to get them through the last of winter, especially if Katsuki kept hunting, thinning out the weak from the bloated herds so the strong would have more than enough to survive. If the village fishers kept fishing, if the cavers found any mushrooms, if the snows melted early and the farmers could begin planting.

The village would survive, and soon they'd be able to thrive.

Resting to the side, Izuku found, gave the added advantage of learning the village gossip they'd missed since the storm had hit. Hitoshi had quickly found Denki's tent when the snow began to fall. The two omegas had spent the blizzard together, leaving the house freshly mated with marks on their necks and wrists, apparently looking like a bear had mauled them both. Sero had accepted the courting gift Shoto had presented him, the woven leather Izuku had made for his friend happily accepted, even if they were going against the tradition of alpha courting the beta. And Kirishima had apparently stood every day in front of Mina's house, calling for her, asking for forgiveness for joining Katsuki on the hunt.

She'd thrown a bowl of soup at him, screaming at him to go home, but Izuku knew how she felt. Knew the depths of her feelings rivaled his own. They'd work through it, eventually.

The rest was less interesting, but he still enjoyed hearing it, listening to the people he'd grown up with speak and fill him in on their lives. These were his family, his friends, his loved ones, and the people his pup would have as their own as well.

The gossip stopped, however, when Katsuki came over, even though the carts were still only half unloaded. While everyone was happy to see him, glad he and the others had returned, a wariness still stayed. It, too, would pass. For now, though, they watched as Katsuki approached, his hands behind his back.

"She wanted to finish it first," Katsuki huffed, hands shifting to hold out a dark green book toward Izuku. "I'm working on getting the others back too, least what I can."

It was his favorite: the story of All Might, the legendary warrior who, hundreds of years ago, had used his sword to cast out darkness from the world. Of his unnamed heir and his journey to find the sword, bringing peace in the upheaval of All Might's death. Of their lives and loves and the hope they'd been. One of the few books his father had bought before he passed, that Inko had read him almost every night to sleep. The one he had cried the most over parting with during those long, hungry months, when his hunts had failed and others in the village had still had enough to trade.

His gloved hands shook as he took it from Katsuki, already knowing how the leather would feel in his naked palm.

"You never should have had to part with it," Katsuki said softly, stepping forward to pull Izuku into his chest. "You did what you had to to survive, and I'm so thankful, Izuku. I'll get them back, I promise."

Inko yelled at him again for making Izuku cry, even as they both tried to calm her, Izuku clutching the book to his chest, joy growing more around his heart.

_________

The snow had fully melted by the time their daughter was born.

The labor was hard - although he felt stronger, the drop had weakened him significantly, far more than they had expected it would have. Just a few weeks of rest and care hadn't been enough to return him to the full strength he'd once had before Katsuki had left, when he could run and jump and carry a deer by himself. And delivering a child was so much more, requiring what he didn't have and didn't know was needed in the first place.

But Katsuki had been by his side, clutching his hand as Inko and Chiyo worked, giving him food and water to keep up his strength, reassuring him that he was doing well. A flurry of others had gone in and out of the room, a mixture of smells that had made Izuku gag more than once even though he recognized them all as his pack, only the presence of Katsuki's wrist beneath his nose enough to ease the nausea they brought. When he hadn't been able to stand any longer, when he had just wanted to lay down and deliver his child like that, like he'd heard they did it in one of the kingdoms far to the south, Katsuki had been there to hold him, to keep him in the best position for his body to do what it needed.

Even when Izuku had cursed him, threatened him, had promised to stuff his knot up his own ass and gag him on his own testicles before feeding him to Mighty, Katsuki was there.

He was there when, with a final scream that tore at his throat and a push that felt like his body was being torn apart, Chiyo caught their daughter, far too small but loud, squalling even before the gunk had been wiped from her face. They were both there as Katsuki helped to lower Izuku down, letting him rest against him as Inko helped to clean her granddaughter, fighting hard against the tears trying to flood the birthing room. They were there when she was handed over, placed in Izuku's arms so he could see the results of so many months of fighting, of pain and suffering and trying to stay alive. All for that moment.

Her eyes were red, what little he could see as she scowled at the world, her face exactly like her sires'. The wet tuff of hair on her head could be emerald, though he knew it could be lighter when it was dry, just some shade of beautiful green. Again she was small, smaller than other children he had seen born into their village, that fear striking his chest again soothed as she squirmed and fought the blanket wrapped around her. Even if she was small, she was still strong. She was perfect, and she was theirs.

"Akina," Katsuki offered, once they'd been cleaned up, once their pack had seen her and left. "That was one of your fairytales, when we were little. It means 'light green,' too. Seems fitting."

Izuku knew the story well - the tale of the little deer, sick and alone, who found her herd. The herd that cared for her, and the eventual family the fairytale gave her. "Akina it is."

Together they sat like that, Katsuki holding Izuku, Izuku holding Akina, the warm spring sun shining through the open window upon them all as they stared at their baby girl.

It was beautiful.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47238028#main