#fuckytown

Shouto is semi-conscious for the whole thing. He remembers the look in his friend's eyes as he holds him down, the panic, and the moment when Izuku decides to give in rather than risk hurting him. He remembers the taste of Izuku's blood in his mouth, biting like his dad's whiskey.

And he remembers feeling angrier than he ever has before. That's what a rut feels like: rage, the last shreds of his self-control stripped away. It makes him unable to stop- but it doesn't put the ideas into his head. No, that's the worst part. The urge was already there.

How many times has he fantasized about holding Izuku down? Locking their mouths together? Maybe it wasn't just chance that put Izuku in his path. Maybe this is what Shouto deserves for all the terrible thoughts he's entertained.

He used to think about being Izuku's alpha. He didn't mind being born a beta, especially since it pissed the old man off, and he would never want to be an alpha ALL the time. But the idea of mating Izuku, making him HIS... that had been tempting.

Shouto has no idea about the hormones his dad has been poisoning him with. As far as he knows, the burning lust in his veins, the compulsion to bite, the knot forming at the base of his dick- they are a spontaneous development, born of his own ill-fated wishes.

He takes Izuku on the bench in the locker room, and the ill-fated omega has the fortitude to hold back tears, though that doesn't stop them from forming in the corners of his eyes. Shouto is not gentle. He watches as if disembodied as he tears the clothes from Izuku's body.

The omega tries to be helpful, accommodating. He tilts his hips up, bares his neck. Anything to try and make the process less painful and violent. When Shouto enters him, he does his best to stay relaxed, to not tense up. It's an omega's survival instincts.

Shouto knots his ass and bites his neck, locked together at two painful points. Still, Izuku won't shed tears. He strokes the head of the snarling omega, whispering to him that it's okay, this will be over soon, as if Shouto is the one who needs the reassurance.

It is over, but not particularly soon. It takes a while for Shouto to finish, for his body to finally relinquish the hold it has on Izuku. When his fangs pop loose, the blood around his chin is dry. That is how long they were locked together.

He sits there panting so hard his body shakes, still not really back to himself yet. However, he's recovered enough to feel the beginnings of shame for what he's done. Izuku is doing his best to put himself back together, gathering the remains of his clothes.

He helps Shouto get dressed, too, even though the boy is as responsive as a zombie. With Izuku leading him by the hand, they go back to the dorms, where Izuku deposits him at his room so he can recover. There is no reporting to the teachers, no talking about what has happened.

Izuku goes back to his own room, and both boys fall into a fitful sleep. In the morning, Izuku will try to pretend like nothing ever happened. He will hide the bite on his neck with a higher collar, he won't look Shouto in the eyes for a few days, and that will be the end of it.

Shouto will try to forget about it, too. He'll convince himself that it was some terrible nightmare wet dream. After all, betas don't just spontaneously knot their best friends. It had to be a dream. It had to be.

But the fire in his skin won't die down.

The taste of Izuku won't wash out of his mouth.

Just as Katsuki feared, he was apparently now married to the prince. He had a dedicated handmaiden now, one that could speak the bare basics of his language, and she both made his life a living hell and was the only thing keeping him sane. At the very least, having someone who could explain some of the absurdities he was forced to endure was grounding, even if she did so in the most insufferable way possible.

“Doesn’t the prince need a fucking heir, ” Katsuki growled. “He’s not going to get that from me.”

“Prince will get what he want in time,” the handmaiden said, smiling. “Prince always get what he want.”

“Doubt it, sweetheart. I’m not gonna be popping out a baby anytime soon.”

The handmaiden reached out and gently pushed against the markings on his throat.

Izuku is supposed to be asleep.

He hears the creak of the door opening, and he does his best to pretend. He's supposed to be out cold, knocked unconscious from the special tea Shouto had given him. However, Izuku knows how Shouto makes his tea. He watches him from the other side of the common room. The tin he pulls it from, how long it steeps, even the flourish of his wrist as he pours. But tonight, when he made the tea for Izuku, he sprinkled it with a special something.

Izuku didn't miss it. He never takes his eyes off Shouto. And when he tasted it? Acerbic.

He tossed out the tea. But he pretends. He pretends to be asleep, lying still and motionless as Shouto slinks into the room and towers over him.

Come on, Izuku thinks, just go for it.

He's wanted this for so long- been scheming it. How could he have ever anticipated that his love felt the same way? In all his many, many observations of Shouto (carefully catalogued in his notebook) he never would have predicted this.

After a pause that lasts forever, Shouto finally reaches out and brushes back Izuku's bangs, locks their lips together. It takes all of Izuku's restraint not to squeal. He's supposed to be pliant, unresisting. That's apparently the way his perfect lover likes it.

A hand reaches down and messes with Izuku's pants, palms him clumsily. Izuku has to resist a groan. Shouto wants to take such good care of him. He just has to give in.

As long as I'm the only one. As long as no one else can have him.

Izuku had thought it would be harder than this. He thought there would be violence and subterfuge involved in claiming Shouto. Turns out all he had to do was feign sleep.

Gaining confidence, Shouto yanks down Izuku's pants, handles him eagerly. Izuku is biting his tongue, trying to be silent. He wants to sing.

When Shouto presses a finger into him, Izuku can hold back no longer. He lets out a groan, and the jig is up. Shouto freezes. Timidly, Izuku opens his eyes, and immediately locks gazes with the boy staring down at him in shock.

He thinks perhaps this is it, that Shouto will stop. Instead, a new look comes over Shouto's face. His expression hardens. A hand snaps out and clamps over Izuku's mouth even as the finger continues probing.

So this is how it is, Izuku thinks. He wants me so much he'll take me by force.

Izuku is more than glad to play the part. He squeals, flexes, pretends to put up a struggle. He's had many long years to practice his crying, and the tears come easy now, springing to his eyes and falling down his cheeks. Shouto growls, spurred on by the struggle, lining his dick up and pushing in.

That does hurt, and Izuku doesn't have to feign the pain he feels. Still, it's good. He's Shouto's first. He would have killed for this. Literally.

Rolling his hips, Shouto thrusts into him, making space into Izuku's hot, tight body, claiming him, hollowing him out. Both boys groan and shake, overwhelmed. It doesn't take long for Shouto to come inside him, and Izuku clenches hard, putting a bit of OFA into it. He wants everything Shouto has to give him. It's his.

After he's done, Shouto pulls out. He looks down at Izuku, and the look on his face shifts from satisfied to horror. He takes one step back, then another. Then he turns and flees.

Izuku lays in the puddle, basking in the afterglow. Now Shouto is his. Forever.