Archive of Our Own

It should be easy to be the rich, spoiled son of two hot and famous pro-heroes- except it fucking sucks. Yeah, he's never wanted for anything and sure, he's been practically raised by a platoon of Japan's elite, but- fuck, the expectations and rules have never let up.

Especially when it comes to UA. It'd been the same conversation over and over again; "When you get into UA" or "when you get into the Hero Course-" usually followed by dad's too-loud laughter and the familiar lie, "Or wherever else you wanna go, kid."

Well, whatever.

It's a good school and it hadn't been that hard to get in and it had been even easier to convince Kenta to go with. Yeah, his stupid Beta was settled into General Studies, which.. fuck, that was alright, it's still a good course and it's fine, just- their quirks were the sam, it wasn't fuckin' fair that Kabo was stuck in the Hero Course while Kenta got to screw around. (Not that anybody in their families were gonna be allowed to 'screw around'.)

Shit, at least Kabo wasn't in his dad's class. That would have just been fate spitting on him.

Ugh, reminiscing isn't gonna get his homework done though, and like hell is he going to ask somebody else for notes or, worse, his parents. Kabocha grits his teeth and scowls at the electric screen, struggling to scribble down the dates he'd missed in the last few minutes.

Who gave a shit about hero history. What'd it fucking matter /when/ a law was invented? All he needs to know is what the laws were currently so that he can avoid breaking them. Stupid. He probably doesn't even need to know that much, because he's sure he'll graduate and be absorbed into mom's agency and not have to worry like all the stupid idiots he's surrounded with. There's already a placard with his Hero Name on the agency wall.
Graduation's in a few months. He's trying not to think about that.

Still.

They're gonna quiz him on fuckin' law history and if he fails then a million different people are gonna give him shit about it, so Kabo tries to focus on making neat, detailed notes.

He can see words forming across the top of his page, and he angrily crosses them out. He's busy.

More words sketch themselves intohis paper, following by a stupid smiling face. Bleuch. Fine, fuck. What's it say?

hey can we chatskies after class

Kabo's left eye twitches. A sketchy box forms around the words, and he knows he can write within it to reply, but... ugh, chatskies?

about what, he writes.

They've run out of room and he waits for new text to appear in the other margins of his paper. His notes look like a mess now and it's gonna take forever to erase this shit.

festival and shit

UGH. He's already told them all he doesn't want shit to do with planning that. Fine. Whatever. He can make his feelings known again if he has to. It'll take Kenta a while to get to his building after classes anyway; there's always an irritating amount of time to spare waiting.

fine he writes. three minutes

He gets a written smiley face and when he turns around to stare at the idiot using his quirk to talk to him during class, he gets a brilliantly real smile, too.

Great. Cool. Kabo turns back around, focusing on his notes and on erasing dark pencil marks.

//

"Maybe somewhere more private than this?"

Kabo eyes him, arms crossed. Ohishi Masu. Quirk: Replication. Hero Name: Split Screen. Good quirk, terrible choice of name. They've been in class together for three years so it'd make sense to call them friends, but, eugh, well.

Everybody's about to split after graduation and Kabo's already crossed out the box in his mind labeled 'friends' and has re-titled it 'potential resources'.

Except for Kenta, obviously.

"I dunno, there's the old copy room?" he suggests, rolling his eyes.

The hallway's not that busy but if this dumb Alpha can't handle being told off in front of everybody, then whatever. Dad'll frown if he's caught shrieking at other students again.

"Yeah, perfect," Ohishi says, scrambling to tug the door open.

It's a small, dusty, dirty room, and they crowd into it together. Kabo nudges a dark counter with his elbow and scowls at the line of black that's left on his uniform sleeve. Let's get this shit over with, he thinks.

"I don't wanna participate in the stupid fucking festival shit," Kabo says loudly.

Ohishi stops trying to get a light to turn on and turns. There's enough shuttered light from the window to see that he's undeterred, smiling.

Fuck, he's tall. Not a lot of Alphas in class, and Kabo's used to his dad and uncle but that's... that's family.

"You never help with the festivals, Kirishima," Ohishi says.

Kabo eyes him. "If you're gonna try some shit about this being the last one, save it. I've heard it and I've got better shit to do."

"No, no." The Alpha holds up his hands. There are six fingers on each, and he's painted his nails bright red. Fuckin' suck-up.

"I'm saying- you don't help so I know you won't be busy so I thought I'd, uhhh. You wanna go with me? To the festival night, Kirishima?"

Kabo blinks hard, and then blinks again, mouth falling open. He composes himself, clearing his throat, and adjusts his arms over his chest. "I have no damn say over applications at the Zero agency."

Ohishi looks genuinely shocked at the implication. "Wha- oh, no, dude. I'm already signing papers for Chargebolt. Not trying to be devious."

Kabo narrows red eyes, eyeing the Alpha.

Ohishi steps closer, matching his gaze. "Come on, it can't be that surprising, can it? That I’m confessing to you?"

Kabo swallows, forced to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact with the taller boy. "No," he lies, "I'm fuckin' great."

"Ha, see?" Ohishi's lip snakes out to wet his lips and Kabo resists letting it distract him. "Maybe I'm a little late," the Alpha continues, sliding another half-step closer, "but ever since first year I've thought you were..." His yellow eyes flicker down to Kabo's feet and back. "...cool," he finishes quietly.

"Cool," Kabo echoes distantly.

A small room wasn't a great idea. Ohishi smells like hard cedar; the same kind of overwhelming air that comes after opening an old chest after you've let it sit too long. It's strong and sharp and it's... Kabo swallows again. It's good.

It'd make it easier to tell him off if he didn't have to think of him as his classmate that he's known for years and worked with and who, now that he's thinking about it, has lately gone out of his way to hold open doors and smile at him and- Ah. Kabo's been kinda stupid, huh.

Okay. Alright. Blushing cedar.

"You wanna?" Ohishi asks when Kabo's been too frantically silent.

"What?"

"The festival, with me. A date. The fireworks and dinner and- shit, dude, are you trying to scent like that?"

Oh, now Kabo's the flustered one. "No," he argues. "That's just..."

"Yeah," Ohishi laughs. "I get it."

He does get it, because neither of them ever wear patches and the dusty room is starting to smell more like a forest than a stale copy room.

There's a moment of quiet anticipation between them and then Oshisi speaks again, "I love the way you smell."

Kabo's tongue is caught in his throat and he clenches sweaty hands together. They're no longer over his chest, falling against his side. He crinkles his fists and soft chunks of stone pepper the floor at his feet.

He needs to give an answer, but- he'd been so ready to say no, and say fuck off, and storm out with a whole show, but- Oshihi's not a stupid dude or a bad guy; he's strong and ranked in the upper parts of the class, and maybe once or twice in the past couple year's Kabo's wondered what kind of things six fingers can do, so- so would it be terrible to agree?

He kind of wants to say no just to spite his mom. He kind of wants to say yes just to make his dad grin.

Fuck. The Alpha smells so good and his own scent glands are warm with how hard they're trying to work too, spilling his sweet harvest scent out as fast as they can.

The festival is a long way off yet, and shit, he doesn't fucking know if he wants to go at all, but here in this dim room, alone after classes- he can make a decision based on the here and the now, and Kabo's always been a little bit wild and a whole lot impulsive, so he reaches for Ohishi's red tie, yanks him down to split the difference between them, and kisses him.

It's clearly not Ohishi's first kiss, which is a little bit aggravating in a nonsensical, prideful sort of way, but it's not Kabo's either.

(His at fourteen, having jumped from a swingset and landed so hard on his head that he'd knocked himself out for a second. When he came to, Kenta's lips were on his and his eyes flashing desperate fear- "I thought you were dead!" and "So why the fuck did you kiss me, then?" and "Uhhhhhhhh-"

Not a very good first and why is he remembering it now? Fuck.)

Ohishi's hands fall against the base of his neck, fingertips teasing the edges of his glands and fuck, that's a good trick, that feels good. Kabo leans hard into the kiss, back pressed into the dirty counter. He slides his hand into Ohishi's hair, thick and dark and just long enough to cling to.

Cedar smells good and the taste of the Alpha's tongue in his mouth is even better, hot and thick and the way he rumbles when Kabo sucks it dangerously between his jagged teeth is fucking great.

They pull back and forth, horny teenagers in over their heads and loving it. Ohishi kicks Kabo's feet apart and inches even closer, pressing a knee to the Omega's crotch where he's obviously already hard.

Making out in an unlocked room half a hallway down from the room his dad teaches in is probably stupid but the anticipation- the idle threat- Kabo's drunk on adrenaline and Alpha scenting and the weight of a heavy knee against him.

Ohishi pulls on his bottom lip and then ducks to nuzzle at his neck, peppering kisses against soft skin.

"Fuck," Kabo whines, tilting his head back. He tugs on the Alpha's hair, trying to push him where he wants.

"Watch- watch this," Ohishi gasps between wet kisses, sliding his tongue just out of range of the sweet scent gland. He tugs his own collar down, baring his skin, and then with a grunt he puts his lips to Kabo's pulse point and sucks hard.

"Oh, shit," Kabo whispers loudly, watching with half-lidded eyes as a matching bruise forms slowly across Ohishi's neck. He's always been a sucker for quirk-play and this is some fucking good shit. "Lemme bite you," he begs. "Wanna feel it."

Ohishi pulls his shirt down further in answer and Kabo leans in, half-panting. He licks a warm stripe across the Alpha's collarbone, tasting salt and old scent and the sweet taste of skin, and then leans in and opens his mouth and rests gentle pinpricks near the dip in Ohishi's throat.

Oh, fuck, he can feel it too on his. He's gonna lose his fucking mind. Kabo deepens the bite slowly, entranced by the pain of his own sharp teeth until Ohishi pulls back with a breathy laugh.

"Shit, Omega," he breathes, "you've got bark and bite."

"Do you have either?" Kabo taunts, licking a faint hint of blood from his lips.

Ohishi growls loosely and kisses him again, shoving him hard against the counter.

This is more than Kabo's ever done before, but he's invested in the thrill and the scent of cedar and the feeling of his hard cock rutting against the Alpha's knee.

It's inappropriate behavior for two would-be Heroes, but fuck if he can't be bothered to care right now. It's the end of the day, they're hidden away; he's got nowhere to be and Kenta won't mind waiting for him.

Ugh, fuck, Kenta- he should let him know where he- fuck- There's tongue in his mouth again, wet fingers pressing into his scent glands, and Kabo quits thinking about Kenta. He grinds harder, frustrated by the clothes between them, hands wandering.

Ohishi pauses to breathe, chest heaving. "Fuck, feisty little Omega. I bet you're so damn wet for me."

Ohishi's stupid bravery makes him brave, too, and Kabo answers, "Better find out, then."

"Wh-what?" Ohishi pulls back, bright eyes scanning Kabo's face. "You want me to?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"Oh, I heard you, Kirishima, I just wanna make sure you aren't all talk." He leans in and nips the edge of Kabo's lip, who catches him in another fierce kiss.

"Fuck," Ohishi moans against his mouth. "What do you want me to do?"

Uhhh. Good fucking question- thirty seconds ago he'd have been willing to bend over the counter and strip, but now that his brain is rebooting he realizes that'd be kinda stupid.

"I don't have a condom or anything," Ohishi adds, and yeah, okay, that's definitely out the window then.

"Just keep kissing me and see what happens," Kabo suggests, yanking on his loosening tie to pull him back in. He doesn't seem necessarily convinced but doesn't argue either.

They quit with the talking for a while, the room filled only with shifting fabric and muffled panting. It's the hottest makeout session Kabo's ever had, and he can't resist letting his hands start to wander. They skip over the uniform jacket and fall to Ohishi's belt, tugging.

"Shit, Omega, you're crazy," Ohishi mumbles, dipping his head to nibble down Kabo's sharp jawline.

"Surprised?"

"Guess not," the Alpha answers, shifting lower towards his pulse point.

Yeah, well, that makes one of them then, Kabo thinks wildly, fiddling with the belt. This is crazy- he's gotten up to some batshit stunts in his past but this is a whole different kind of wild. It's exhilarating and he's so fucking nervous but he's not about to let his classmate know that, so he finishes what he's started and unzips Ohishi's pants.

Kabo's phone buzzes once in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of sliding his hand past tented fabric and palming an Alpha cock.

Fuck, he's big- but Kabo's not going to give him the pleasure of saying so.

Ohishi mouths at his scent gland, pausing to grunt a muted moan. "Kirishima, gods. What're we even doing?"

"Shut up," Kabo hisses, twisting his arm to wrap his hand around his length. Oh, fuck, his fingers barely fit around the whole thing. What are they doing? He's been asked on a simple date and he's turned it into... this?

It's okay; it's just instinct for him to want this and instincts are good as long as nobody gets hurt, and Ohishi certainly seems into it too, so- so it's okay to be doing this.

Okay, cool, great pep-talk, Kabo thinks.

His phone buzzes again and again he ignores it.

Ohishi's been grinding into his hand while Kabo's been thinking too hard, and slips one if his hands to squeeze past Kabo's belt, too.

Okay, fuck- he's like two seconds from giving in to the thick, heady scent of cedar and just letting the Alpha fuck him, so Kabo collapses to his knees before the touch of Ohishi’s hands can talk him into something different.

Ohishi mouths a quiet question that's answered immediately by Kabo tugging him free of his pants and inching closer.

Okay. He takes a second and eyes the Alpha's dick, licking his lips. The scent is strong and musky here, and shit, now that he's moved, Kabo can feel the telling itch of slick pooling between his thighs.

Fucking teenage hormones, he thinks before he licks a cautious stripe along the bottom of his length.

It twitches in his hand and he glances up to see Ohishi staring down in flushed shock.

Is he really about to suck dick for the first time in a dusty old school room? With a boy who- well, it'd be a fat lie to say that Kabo barely knows him. He knows most of his classmates pretty well at this point whether he's ever wanted to or not. And he's seen Ohishi before, seen him changing in the lockers, but never quite like this, swollen and beautifully red and thick under his fingers.

Clear precum oozes from the tip and Kabo just stares as it pools there.

Ohishi reaches down and gently rolls a thumb along Kabo's horn, quiet. "You can stop. I only wanted to ask you out," he says.

No, he- fuck, he wants to do it- well, he doesn't not want to do it, but-

Kabo's answer to hesitation has always been to say 'fuck it' and just Do, so he shuts his eyes and leans in, slipping the wet tip of Ohishi's Alpha cock between his well-kissed lips.

The precum is absently bitter on the tip of his tongue as he presses against the slit. It's not bad, probably. He hollows his cheeks and Ohishi's jerks, gasping quietly, and that means he must be doing it right, at least. Kabo adjusts the grip of his hands and tries to fit more of him into his mouth. The base of his cock is hot under his fingers, pulsing where the knot aches to swell, and Kabo wants to see it. He's never seen a knot in anything but porn and if he's gonna go this far then he might as well make it a learning experience.

He takes Ohishi as far as he thinks he can, mindful of his teeth and the thickness of velvet skin. It's not all that far, honestly, and though there's room in the back of his mouth before he'd start to gag, he's unsure if he can move any deeper without grazing him.

Okay, so, tongue then, right? He tries to curl his tongue around what he can and Ohishi moans lowly into it, so he must be doing okay. Kabo pulls back and then slides forward again, using his hand to absently pump what he can't fit between his lips.

It's not, like. Well. It's okay.

Ohishi smells real fucking good and the sounds he makes are alluring, and the taste isn't bad at all, but- well, it's just okay. Maybe the awkwardness of trying to focus on doing something well is distracting him, but Kabo's a lot less worked up than he was five minutes ago and he’s certainly not about to cum in his pants just from this, unlike half the Omegas whining in the porn he’s seen.

Ohishi's tentative fingers in his hair helps, though, and Kabo squeezes his eyes shut harder and puts his metaphorical back into it, and that's better. When he's not actively thinking, it's better.

He undoes his own belt blindly with one hand, reaching to grab himself roughly.

Shit, he's definitely wet, too. He pauses to curl his fingers back further, dipping into warm slick before taking himself in hand again. It's smooth and he kind of feels like he's just masturbating alone uncomfortably on the floor with something in his mouth, so he opens his eyes and glances up and heat spears his chest at the look the Alpha is giving him. Bright, lidded yellow eyes staring at his every move, widening briefly when they make eye contact. Ohishi's panting, his hips rutting in aborted half-movements, and oh, okay, there's that horny thrill Kabo'd been looking for.

He takes in as much cock as he can and sucks hard, lapping at wet skin and stroking with his hand. It's harder to hold onto now as the base grows with a heartbeat of its own, swelling into a real knot, a big one.

Ohishi's grip on his hair is harder now and that's good, Kabo definitely likes that- he wishes that the Alpha would go back to playing with his horn though because he knows that's sensitive and that he likes the way it feels.

Fuck, it's not much longer after before Ohishi's stuttering a warning gasp.

There's nowhere to put a load of Alpha cum, so Kabo takes a breath and lets it spill down his throat. He gags on the taste; he can't get the cock far enough down so that he can't taste it and it pools thick against his tongue.

Shoulda just fucked him, Kabo thinks blankly, cumming half-heartedly into his own palm while he waits for the Alpha's long orgasm to finally finish.

Ohishi reaches to help him up but Kabo waves his hand off and climbs to his feet on his own. His knees ache more than he'd thought they would, but the floor's cement. Maybe next time he'll have to make his own little rock base.

Mm, next time? Ehhh. Hmmm. Kabo clears his throat, swallowing to try and clear the taste out better.

"Wow," Ohishi laughs, putting himself back together. "Kirishima, uh. Damn."

"What?" Kabo snaps defensively.

"No, no, it's good. Real good. Shit, I swear I didn't like, plan this when I asked you in here, or whatever."

Kabocha rolls his eyes. "I took your dick out, so. Obviously."

Ohishi lets out a long breath as he fixes his tie. He pauses to look Kabo up and down. "Hey, you good?"

He's not sure exactly how he feels but maybe 'good' works. He's not gonna say otherwise, anyway. "Yeah?"

"Awesome, wow, okay. I just really didn't expect this; I'm really glad."

"No shit; you just got your dick sucked."

"No!" Ohishi leans in and curls his hand around Kabo's jaw; the Omega tolerates it, not pulling back though he kind of wants to cling to his own personal space after that.

"I mean, I really didn't think you liked me back. You're always so aloof," Ohishi says. He dips a bold kiss against the edge of Kabo's mouth.

"M'not aloof," Kabo argues, surprised.

"You're not when you're with your brother or some of the other Omegas, but, like-" Another kiss- "Wow, doll, I really thought you'd shoot me down. Shoulda asked you out ages ago."

Doll? Kabo tries to wrinkle his face but Ohishi's still peppering kisses against it. He waves the Alpha off, stepping back. "Relax; it's just a blowjob."

Ohishi hesitates. "You do like me too, right?"

Kabo eyes the door. He really would like an escape from this whole situation but the odds of anybody walking in here are slim to none. "I don't not like you?" he answers finally, shrugging.

"Oh." Ohishi nods slowly to himself, blinking upwards. "Right. Yeah. I'm just- getting ahead of myself again- must be all the scent in here, I'm- you just smell so good and I really thought- when you kissed me, I assumed-" He clears his throat before Kabo can tell him to quit rambling. "You don't wanna go to the festival with me, do you?" Ohishi finishes gently.

Kabo understands in that moment that he has officially 'fucked up', because even with the taste of cum in his mouth, he still has no fuckin' idea how to answer that question.

Cedar grows stale and it makes him want to say yes- Ohishi's crestfallen expression makes him want to push close and coddle him and make it all better- those are Omegan instincts and it wouldn't be bad to follow them, yeah? Well, they're what pushed him to his knees on the floor.

He shouldn't have done that. Even the kissing was too much.

Fuck, it isn't that he doesn't like the Alpha. It isn't that he couldn't grow to like him more. Instincts are the start of a good relationship- he's heard that lecture a thousand times. Ohishi's a really good dude, so..

"I'll go with you," Kabocha finally agrees. He tries not to make it sound like a chore. Maybe it'll be fun! Maybe he'll enjoy letting the Alpha take him out and feed him booth food and kiss him under the fireworks.

Actually, that doesn't sound half bad, maybe. "I'll go."

"Really? You want to?"

Kabo nods. Yeah, maybe he does. Maybe the weird feeling in his gut is just growing butterflies. He's not used to attention like this- not real attention, not an Alpha after him for his personality and not only his scent or his lineage or clout.

"Oh, thank god," Ohishi breathes loudly. He laughs again. "You can change your mind, of course, but, wow- don't tell anybody how soft I am, but I've been enamored with you for a long, long time."

Kabo rolls his eyes but he can't help the indulgent smirk that crosses his lips. "We should leave," he says, nodding towards the door.

Ohishi laughs again, light and giddy, and it's kind of cute and kind of weird and Kabo definitely think he's in over his head but... but maybe it's okay.

Kabocha wipes his hands on his pants and adjusts his jacket. He puts his hand on the cold door handle, twists it, and proceeds to walk face first into a large, warm chest that smells unfortunately like mud.

Oh, fuck, he thinks, willing himself into the ground.

Ohishi knocks into his back and it's a whole little train of chaos before the two students are settled and staring up at one Red Riot, his hair grown out but tied back and a little bit black at the roots.

Ohishi gulps audibly.

Kirishima puts his hands on his hips- his waist a bit thicker in his older age but Kabo would be happy to fight anybody who doesn't think his dad is the epitome of a prime Alpha. He looks between them both, back and forth, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening.

"Huh," he says.

There's absolutely no defending themselves when they smell like each other and the room smells like that and oh, Kabo is realizing now that he definitely wiped his own cum across his thigh- it's not that much and it's pale but, uh. He did that, so.

There's no hiding it, so Kabo shrugs his shoulders and says, "Well, he only fucked my mouth."

Ohishi makes a noise like he might be actively dying and Kirishima slaps his palm over his face, sighing loudly. "Why," he mumbles to himself, clearly not seeking an actual answer. "Okay," Kirishima begins, pulling his hand away. "I really don't want to think about this more than I need to, so are we cool if I don't report it?"

Kabo and Ohishi both nod vigorously.

Kirishima gestures towards the younger Alpha. "Do you need me to give you a dad talk or a teacher talk?"

Ohishi shakes his head frantically. "No, sensei."

"Awesome. You can go, then," Kirishima says. Ohishi bows, glances at Kabo, and then makes a break for it.

Kirishima snatches the edge of Kabo's jacket collar before he can do the same. "Nuh-uh, kid," he says, and Kabo groans.

"How come you're gonna yell at me and not him? He's the Alpha!" Kabo tries.

"I'm not yelling," Kirishima insists loudly. He clears his throat and lowers his voice. "But you're my son and he's not."

"Ughhhhh."

"Quit that."

"I'm adopted."

"Really?"

"It wasn't even sex!"

"Has it ever been?" Kirishima asks, looking up like he's afraid of the answer.

"So many times," Kabo lies.

Kirishima pinches the bridge of his nose. "You're either gonna have this conversation with me now or with your mother later. Pick fast."

Kabo backtracks quickly. "I've never had sex with him. Or anybody," he adds.

"Okay," Kirishima says, taking a breath. "I mean, it's not a big deal if you have, just- you don't have to lie to me, kid."

"I know," Kabo pouts.

"Lying’s not very manly."

"I know."

"Or Hero-like."

"Can you not tell mom?" Kabo asks.

"What, that you're a virgin?" Kirishima teases with a rumbling laugh.

Kabo swings a fist and punches him in the gut. He doesn't even flinch. "Tell me you won't say anything."

"I think Katsuki would find it very interesting that his beloved baby boy has been-"

"Dad!"

Kirishima laughs. "Okay," he agrees. "Between us."

"Thanks," Kabo sniffs sullenly. He likes his dad a whole fuckin' lot (would like him more if he wasn't at school with him) but he's a momma's boy through and through and that's a conversation that he isn’t exactly prepared to have yet.

Kirishima crosses his arms over his big chest and looks at his son again, thoughtfully. "So- him, huh?"

Kabocha shrugs.

"He's a pretty nice guy. Nice Alpha," Kirishima comments, trying for a careless side-eye and failing.

"Guess so."

"What about Kenta?"

Kabo wrinkles his nose. "Huh? I'm sure he's waiting for me."

Kirishima hums, the noise thick and slow. "He's on the steps," he tells him.

"Why'd you ask, then?"

Another irritating hum. Kabo scowls.

"Can I leave yet?"

"One thing first," Kirishima says.

"No way," Kabo warns, trying to step back. He's not fast enough and Kirishima gets a hand on his jacket, pulling him back in for a tight hug despite Kabo's whiny complaints.

"You need to smell more like me, my jellybaby," Kirishima says, ruffling a hand through Kabo's long, dirty-blonde hair and holding him close, "and less like a horny teenager."

Kabocha pushes against him but there's no fighting Red Riot's practiced grip.

Once he smells more like dad than Ohishi, Kabo's left to go figure out where Kenta is. Stairs? Ok. He heads down the long hallway, pulling out his phone.

Oops. Lotta missed texts from him.

'im here'
'brooooooooo'
'broseroooni'
'yo'
'bruhhh did you get detention again'
'can u just txt me fr'
'i kno u use ur phone in detention'
'kacchan'
'kabo'
'kabroski'
'i brought u a coffee but u kno what man I'm just gonna chug it'
'i regret doing that'
'now I have a spite stomachache'
'kacchan wtf really??'

Haha. Whoops. Kabo grimaces. He pushes the double doors open and he's honestly glad to see Kenta still waiting for him. He's sprawled on the stairs like he's dying, and Kabo watches an underclassman jump over his arm without stopping. Kenta's stupid pink mohawk fluffs in the wind, and Kabo rolls his eyes.

He jumps down three steps and slips down two more until his feet land on either side of Kenta's head. "What're you doing?" he asks, peering down.

"The usual," Kenta answers, raising a hand only to let it flip back on the cement.

"Contemplating life. The future. The betrayals of best friends."

"It's been like twenty minutes since class let out," Kabo points out wrly. He can't help but grin wickedly though; seeing Kenta after classes always eases him no matter what stupid things happened that day.

Kenta sniffs. "Twenty-seven," he insists.

"I hope you can forgive me," Kabo jokes, feigning seriousness.

"I guess," Kenta says, finally sitting up on the step. "Only 'cuz you smell like you've already run into Eiji."

"Ughhh, is it that bad?" Kabo throws out a hand.

Kenta takes it and lets himself be hauled to his feet, wobbly on the edge of a step. "I like how he smells. Kinda weird today, though, like- eh, I dunno, I'm not good at that shit."

And thank god for that, Kabo thinks. It'd been really weird getting used to Kenta as a Beta.

For some stupid reason (probably a reason named Katsuki) they'd spent half their lives thinking Kenta was an Alpha, and then didn't question it. Not when his scent didn't come in, not when Kabo had his first (early) pupheat and Kenta continued to lag behind- and then the official birthday blood results had come in and ... Beta. Non-presenting. Woof.

Which! That's okay! His mom was a beta and most of his siblings, too. Just..

He was supposed to be an Alpha.

But it's been years now and they're over it. He's still the same person.

Kabo slings an arm around Kenta's waist as they start towards the dorms, and an arm falls familiarly over his shoulders, too. "You really drink my coffee, man?"

"Naw." Kenta pulls a lukewarm can from his pocket and hands it over.

Kabo pierces the lid with his teeth.

He chugs half the can despite the temperature, glad finally to wash out the bitter taste of Alpha cum. Fuck, that's so much better. Next time he's spitting for sure.

"What took you so long, Kabs?" Kenta asks, opening the door to the General Studies dorm. "Thought you died."

Kabo takes another swig of canned coffee. "Sucked Ohishi's dick in the old copy room," he answers.

Kenta's arm over his neck tightens for a second, the Beta's pale eyes sliding towards him. "Really?" he asks, expression doubtful.

"Uh-huh. He asked me to the festival with him." They don't keep secrets but- part of Kabo's regretting saying anything. Another part twitters with a bizarre anxiety, like he needs to be absolved or something. He turns from Kenta's wide eyes and stares at the coffee.

"So you turned the guy down and then what- dropped to your knees?"

Kabo winces. "I dunno, I, uh. Said I'd go with him."

Kenta's arm falls from his shoulders. He hits the button for the elevator but Kabo knows he could have easily done it with his free hand without moving.

"You never go to the festivals?" Kenta points out loosely, his voice too high pitched.

"It's, uh, the last one," Kabo tries. Why's he stammering so much? His own arm falls from Kenta's waist, and the elevator bings.

"You said that you- well, nevermind." They crowd into the metal lift. Kenta grins past dagger teeth and Kabo tries to pretend it's a normal smile. "I'm glad you'll get to see one, at least. They can be crazy."

Uh huh. Crazy is.... A good word for what he will be doing. For a minute it almost had sounded like a good idea, but now it boils restlessly in his brain. Today's fucked and Kabo can't pinpoint exactly why.

Ugh. "Will you do my math today?" Kabo asks as the third floor dings.

Kenta looks at him with a faint laugh and a fair smile. "You do my chem?"

"Deal," Kabo agrees.

They shake on it in the hallway, hands ending with a clanking headbutt, and Kabo feels better.

Kenta's class president kicks him out at curfew and Kabo stalks back to his own dorm with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing a pair of Kenta's sweats after ditching his cum covered uniform slacks, but now that he's walking in them he kinda thinks these might be his own pants.

The lounge is empty because it's late, but hanging from Kabo's door is a little bag. There's chocolate in it, he discovers in the privacy of his room, and a little note from Ohishi expressing formal gratitude and excitement.

Cheesy as fuck but the sweets are good.

The Alpha keeps it up, too, greeting him with honest excitement the next day and buying him lunch and kissing him in the empty classroom between lectures. It's kinda fun. Alluring for sure, though Kabo's let down by all the fancy romance stories- there ain't no butterflies here.

Maybe he's just doing it wrong. He kisses harder and convinces himself to purr for the Alpha, and his body responds eagerly but it just is... It's okay. It's not bad. It feels good. Probably be easier just to jerk it himself but his own dick ain't buying him drinks, so.

Kenta gets over his shock after the first night and Kabo's glad- it'd been a weird night. They'd done each other's homework and crawled into bed to watch something stupid on a laptop, and Kenta had asked him how it was.

"How what was?" Kabo asked, confused and distracted by Kenta's hand petting through his hair.

"Alpha dick," Kenta elaborates. "Was it good?"

"Didn't fit in my mouth," Kabo says, nuzzling closer into Kenta's shoulder. "Looks like any other cock."

"What about the knot?"

"Dunno. Think we finished too fast to really get there."

Kenta hummed, and that was the end of that. Not one of their weirder conversations, honestly- they'd always talked about anything and everything freely with no restraint. Ohishi's a good Alpha. He's kind and a strong hero and Kabo is sort of invested after a week or two, but it never feels like he thinks he should so he keeps pushing and petting and kissing and then, on a slow day when Kenta's doing something stupid to plan the festival, Kabo sits across the Alpha's lap and demands in no uncertain terms, grinding his hips against him, "Fuck me."

Ohishi's politely shocked but genuinely eager, and he's learning not to let anything Kabo does surprise him, so he pulls off his shirt and scrambles for a condom.

This isn't so bad, Kabo thinks, face against the sheets. Definitely weird at first but better now that they've figured out a rhythm. Ohishi groans across his back, hands around his hips, and thrusts.

Kabo says harder and he goes harder. Faster and he tries to go faster.

It feels good. It feels really fucking good to be fucked into the mattress under an Alpha's heavy scent, and Kabo can't resist whining as he scrambles to grip the sheets. Heat builds and coils in his gut and his cock drips idle precum. Fuck, it's good.

But it's... not anything more than that. It feels good and it's fun but... Kabo can't shake the stupid fucking feeling that he’s missing something.

Ohishi pulls him close after and whispers warm praise, and this time Kabo's purr is genuine, but- he lays there held tight and thinks too much. Maybe he shoulda let Ohishi knot him. Maybe he shoulda let him finish inside. Raw. How it's meant to be, right? It's not like he's gonna get pregnant here.

It's frustrating how much he wants a fucking storybook romance- how much he wants to be swept off his feet and how he wishes he felt like a stupid pining Omega- but he rarely thinks of Ohishi when they aren't together and he's getting kind of sick of boring kisses and it's so fucking stupid!! The Alpha is doing everything right! More than textbook! The underclassman are jealous and they're right to be!

Fuck. Maybe all that movie shit just isn't for him. Maybe it's not real at all. He wants to ask Kenta but Kenta's never dated anyone.

He won’t ask his parents either, because they get all stupid mushy about the whole dumb story and usually forget whatever he was asking about in the first place, getting distracted by their own hands and words and scents.

Guess that’s proof that there’s more to the whole thing, though. Kabo can’t picture himself edging fifty and still wanting Ohishi’s hands all over him.

Kabo watches the digital clock and after exactly half an hour if post coital cuddling, he climbs out of bed and excuses himself with a warm kiss goodbye. Even in a hazy, after sex glow, he still doesn't feel much.

Kinda feels broken, maybe.

He climbs the stairs quietly to his own room and unlocks the door with a sigh. There's a lump in his nest and he knows it's Kenta; there's never been anybody else in there. He smiles softly and spends a few minutes cleaning sweat and slick from himself in the bathroom before he sits heavily on the edge of his nest.

Kenta stirs softly. "Hey," he mumbles.

"Hey," Kabo whispers.

"Sleep," Kenta tells him, voice foggy with exhaustion.

"Yeah."

Kabo crawls into his nest; it's based on a dorm bed and isn't that big, but it always fits the two of them just fine. He settles his back to Kenta's chest and sighs. An arm slides around his waist and tugs him closer.

What's wrong with him, that he can't be satisfied with 3A's best Alpha? He should count himself fucking lucky. Laid for the first time by a guy who'd bend over backwards for him and smile about it.

Haha, dad, not a fucking virgin anymore. Mom would probably be proud of him for landing a talented Alpha.

Is that just how it is?

anyway.

Warm lips fall across the nape of his neck, nuzzling past his long hair.

Sometimes they cry. It's fine. High school is hard, hero work is hard, being an Omega is fucking hard. It's manly to cry.

Fuck.

"Sleep, Kabocha," Kenta murmurs softly, clinging closer.

Yeah.

Okay.

//

"What's sex like?"

Bakugou puts down his chopsticks, grimaces into an array of a thousand expressions at once, attempts to school his face (fails), and replies, "The fuck?"

"Yeah, -the fuck. What's it like?"

Bakugou gives his son a dry look. "You want me to pull out the fucking biology books again?"

"You're so fucking stupid," Kabo whines.

"You're the one asking about sex at eighteen." Bakugou leans over the kotatsu. "Put your legal date of birth, not your birthday," he says, pointing at a blank box.

"Yeah, obviously," Kabocha spits, waving him away. It's a day off, and Kenta's still too busy doing stupid festival shit with his class, and there are a million papers to sign before he can be settled in the agency, so Kabocha's home with his mother eating cold rice.

"Rephrase your question," Bakugou says. "Ask it less stupid."

"I feel like people make it out to be better than it is," Kabo grumbles, folding his arms over his paperwork so that he doesn’t have to look at it right now.

"What, you can't get off? Use more lube or something," his mother suggests blandly.

"Fuck, no- I'm not- it's not a problem with that," Kabo sputters. They talk about stuff like this; they do. He’s just surprised to hear it so blankly in the middle of the day. Well, whatever. He clears his throat and composes himself, pretending to be a grown-ass adult who can talk about this without blushing. "Just that it's not that great. Well, it's good. I get off. I'm not stupid, I know how to get off. Isn't it more than getting off?"

Bakugou shrugs and picks up his chopsticks. "Doesn't gotta be," he answers.

"Ugh," Kabo groans. What kind of stupid-ass answer is that?

"You're overthinking this shit, baby," Bakugou points out. "Just let Kenta bottom next time; or try something else new."

"What- no, it's not- fuck, mom, I'm not fucking Kenta- what the fuck?" He has to scramble to drop his pen or he's gonna glue it to the table with his quirk.

"Hah?"

"Eh?"

"What?"

"The fuck?"

"Who the hell else are you fuckin' around with then?" Bakugou asks loudly, leaning forward again, eyes narrowed.

Kabo puffs out his chest and shakes gravel from his palm. "I have an Alpha," he announces.

"An Alpha."

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"In my class," Kabo says, "Ohishi."

Bakugou waves that off. "Quirk?"

"The guy who can like, redo things elsewhere?"

Still a blank look from mom. "What'd he place in the last tournament?"

"Uh- he didn't- it's not that kind of quirk, really," Kabo argues, trying to defend him. It's a good hero quirk, it's just not a fighting one.

"No idea who you're talking about, then," Bakugou decides.

"I've been in his class for three years."

Bakugou shrugs. He doesn't even feel bad about it. "And apparently he doesn't fuck good?"

"Ugh." This conversation is as frustrating as he knew it would be. Kabo etches his signature onto another line. "He's fine, it's just..." Does he really want to ask his mom about his parents' sex life? Is that a line he wants to cross? He chews his bottom lip.

"Oi, baby, I know what your problem is," Bakugou announces loudly.

Kabo eyes him, waiting.

"But I think you gotta figure this shit out on your own," he finishes.

"Arhghh! Why do I even ask you anything?" Kabocha exclaims, chucking his pen across the room.

"Chill the fuck out, love. Just have fun, or whatever the fuck. He good to you or do I have to murder him?"

Kabo crosses his arms, sulking. "He brings me courting gifts," he confesses.

"Eugh, yikes."

"I know."

Bakugou clears his throat. "You two, uh-"

Kabo groans again, trying to loudly shut out what his mom's about to fucking say, but Bakugou's still the loudest in the household and talks over his pained noises.

"-you being fucking safe? Condoms? Muzzle? Baby, he better have one of those finger lock muzzles."

"M'not heat-sharing," Kabo grunts, staring again at the paperwork in front of him.

"Good fucking practice anyway. I'll get you one of those stupid bite-collars if you want, Kabo, just do not fuck up-"

"I'm not fucking up, shit!"

"Because I'll fucking murder you both-"

"I'm not stupid!" He’s heard about his parents’ stupid mistakes a thousand times and he knows better than to risk repeating them.

"And then Ei will have to dig you back up so that he can murder you, and-"

"Mom, fuck off!"

"No Bonding, no pregnancy, no STI's-" Bakugou points at him as he lists, crackling sparks to get him to quit whining. "I'm so fucking serious, baby," he says, stilling his quirk and speaking quieter. "I'm thrilled you have an Alpha; you know why?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kabocha mumbles, ducking his head. "Alphas are made for us and us for them," he recites boredly.

"Yeah, and they're good at knocking sense into your head." Bakugou lets out a long breath.

Kabo highly doubts Ohishi's about to teach him anything he doesn't already fucking know, but whatever. He steals his mother's pen and goes back to his forms, hunched over them.

Bakugou reaches over and ruffles his long, messy hair before tweaking the tip of his horn between his fingers. "Glad you're talking to me about this shit, baby."

Kabocha rolls his eyes. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Sure," Bakugou says, voice a bit softer. He glances away. "Why wouldn’t you?" A fragile, fond smile crosses his lips for a second.

//

"What if I just cut all my hair off?"

Kenta clings to it, looping blond locks around his hand. "No," he says, tugging hard until Kabo's head is yanked back. "Nooo, no. It took you so long to grow it out."

Kabo reaches back and grabs his hair out of Kenta's grip. He drapes it over his chest and cards his fingers through it, stroking knots out. Kenta grabs his horns instead, shaking his head back and forth from behind.

"No cutting it," he insists. "No, no, nope." He makes Kabo's head shake no with each sharp word.

"I could dye it red," Kabo ponders. "Or black. Or blue. What about blue?"

"Okay, blue might be cool," Kenta allows. He lets go and shuffles forward until he can rest his chin against Kabo's shoulder. "Why are we redoing our look?"

They're out at lunch, clumped together in the grass under a budding tree. Food trays have been pushed to the side and now they're just simply enjoying this short time they get together during the school day, resting and rebuilding each other for the second half.

Yeah, they're touchy, but nobody's bothered by it anymore. Everybody's used to Kabo and Kenta and if anybody does question them, it's easily written off. 'They're brothers' or 'that one's an Omega, you know how they are'.

Whatever that shit means.

"Shit's changing," Kabo says.

"So now we gotta be blue?"

"I'll go pink and match you."

"I'll go red and we can trade families," Kenta laughs.

Kabo tilts his head and eyes him, thinking about a bright mohawk in brighter red.
Kenta takes the chance to smoosh their cheeks together. "I missed you," he whines. "You're always eating lunch with your boyfriend."

Kabo elbows him. "Yeah, 'cuz he keeps buying it for me."

"As if Eiji doesn't give you enough lunch money," Kenta says.

"Yeah, and now I have money so that we can go to the arcade this weekend, dumbass."

Kenta whistles low, rethinking. "Okay. Yeah, good plan."

Kabo shoves his face away and falls back into the warm grass. "Maybe I should invite Ohishi to come with."

"Why?"

"Ain't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"I bet he cheats," Kenta says. He plucks a few strands of grass and starts letting them fall over Kabo's forehead. "Six fingers and all or whatever."

Kabo huffs a quiet laugh, ignoring the grass. "Oh no, our high scores," he says, feigning seriousness.

They fall quiet for a while, listening to birds and chatter across the courtyard. A blade of grass falls against Kabo's mouth and he blows it away. There's a small pile on his face now but he doesn't bother to move it yet.

He sighs, disturbing more grass accidentally. "You think I'm aromantic or whatever?"

Kenta pauses his work. "Do- do you?"

"No." He really doesn't- or he doesn't want to be, anyway. And that's all the same thing, right? Yeah? Maybe?

"Uhhh, then probably not? I mean, you'd know best, dude."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"What about just ace?" Kenta asks idly, flipping more grass.

"Naw." Kabo kicks a boot up and bends his knee, more comfortable. "I like sex."

Kenta leans over his face, narrowing his eyes. Kabo looks up at him, blades of green distorting the view. Kenta leans closer and says, with emphasis, "Gross."

Kabo reaches his hand out and shoves Kenta's face away. "You would say that, you stupid Beta."

"Betas fuck!" Kenta says loudly, grabbing Kabo's wrist. He tugs hard. "Betas fuck!"

"Gross!" Kabo mimics, trying to free himself.

Kenta keeps pulling until Kabo has no choice but to full body tackle him. Absolutely no other option but to try and pin him with an irreversible headlock. Kenta fights back, climbing to his knees for better leverage, and the two of them scramble to best the other.

It's the oldest game in the book and their wins are nearly evenly scored.

Kabo grunts, kicking, and Kenta laughs his stupid ugly laugh so loud it rings between buildings. "Betas fuck!" he yells between clumsy attempts to smash Kabo's head into the dirt.

Kabo laughs, grinning.

//

Yeah, he likes sex. It feels good and the heady warmth after finishing is nearly addicting. He finds that he doesn't mind being held, either, if it's right afterwards and Ohishi's warm scent is blanketing the room. He gets it- he gets what the point of an Alpha is, maybe.

Ohishi ticks the boxes his body likes, and the rest can always come later.

For now, Kabocha clings to the physical. He doesn't like hanging with his class and he avoids spending too much random 'quality time' with Ohishi by seducing him back into his room and having fun.

Maybe Ohishi seems disappointed sometimes. Maybe he'd really wanted Kabo to go out to eat with him and his little group of bros. Maybe Kabo kisses away a frown or two and tries to forget what they mean.

Anybody who thinks Omegas don't have all the control are stupid.

Perched up on Alpha cock, Kabo tries to picture something serious. He grinds forward and wonders if they'll be anything after graduation. He'd like to be, maybe. It's kind of easy to picture in the middle of sex when his instincts hit hard and fast. Ohishi makes him feel safe.

And mom's always said the same, right? Soft murmurs about luring dad into his nest just for the blessed relief of an Alpha's safe, calm scent. It stills the brain and makes things feel survivable, makes an Omega feel strong- makes it easy to pretend.

Are he and Ohishi just nothing but fuck buddies? It’s a realization Kabo had come to recently, and one that he was still trying to deny.

They hadn't even been on a real date yet (his fault...). Maybe under the festival fireworks he'll learn how to do something new. Because fuck, it'd be so easy to love Ohishi. He's kind and strong and a fellow honest hero. He's dedicated to Kabocha for now, wrapped around his greedy fingers. Mom wants him with an Alpha; biology wants him with an Alpha.

It's stupid that the feelings just aren’t happening.

Fuck. He thrusts back down, hands curling into the thick hair on Ohishi's chest. The Alpha moans underneath him, six fingered hands desperately hanging onto Kabo's hips.

Kabo whines, hair cascading down his shoulders. He smells like sex and desire and sugar pumpkin.

"Ohishi," he moans, "Masu." Just testing- but the Alpha's hips buck upwards in excitement and Kabo has to gasp for air. "Masu, do you love me?"

Ohishi's eyes flutter back open and he stills, surprised. "Kabo, sugar, I like you a lot," he answers breathlessly.

"Do you love me?" Kabo repeats.

Ohishi reaches for him and Kabo leans down into his hands, letting the Alpha kiss patterns over his mouth. "Don't have to rush it, little one," he says, and it's a name that Kabo would hate if he weren't settling over the edge of a swollen knot.

"I like you a lot," Ohishi says, rolling his hips upward where Kabocha has slowed. "That's enough for now."

"Why?"

Ohishi laughs because he thinks the Omega is just thirsty again for more praise as always. "Your butter soft scent," he rumbles, "your pretty long hair."

Kabocha purrs loud in his chest, and Ohishi keeps going. "Your sharp eyes and your wet- fuckin'- hole-"

They pause for a moment, swept up again in the animalistic urge. Kabo finishes pale white over Ohishi's chest, overwhelmed by the pressure of a knot that neither will push any further.

His scent, his eyes, his sex- okay. Those are all things he likes about Ohishi too, so maybe he's not abnormal. Ohishi doesn't love him and that means he's not behind. He can catch up. Give it time, okay.

He won't ask what lured the Alpha to him in the first place. He doesn't want to hear what else there was to draw him, because he doesn't want to answer in turn. He doesn't know how to admit that Ohishi was never anything more than a stupid extra classmate with a halfway useful quirk.

But okay. He likes the cedar scent and he likes to ride this dick and he likes the awful noises he can draw out of both of them. Love later, then. He'll stop worrying.

He's come once and his head is fuzzy warm but he wants it again and again until there's no more thinking. He lifts himself up and sinks back down, whimpering past the sharp overstimulation. Ohishi curls his wide hands over Kabo's hips, feet steady on the bed, and tries to match him.

Kabo's close again quickly, bucking forward as his thighs quiver and Ohishi chases his own release- and then there's a crashing bang on the door. Kabo stifles a cry as it swings open unanswered and there's Kenta, flustered and half dressed and- and covering his eyes with a shaking hand.

As if they haven't seen every inch of each other before.

"Kabocha-"

"Hey," Ohishi growls loudly, thunder vibrating in the back of his throat, "get the fuck out."

Kabo mumbles some version of Kenta's name, distracted and quaking and still stuffed too fucking full-

"Kabo," Kenta bursts, his tone too shrill. "Kabo, your mom-"

//

Kabocha's dropped in front of the hospital by a UA car and shepherded into a white waiting room by strangers whose faces he'll never remember. They don't let Kenta come, because he's 'not family', but Kenta clings to the window of the car and promises he'll be there.

Ohishi's been forgotten the second Kabo climbed off his dick, and there were probably some nice words said, but Kabo doesn't remember and he doesn't care. Sitting in the waiting room, itching- he doesn't care about much except for oncoming footsteps that never bring news.

Whatever they're doing, dad's there with mom. That's good. That's some comfort, but- not really. Kabo pulls his knees to his chest, wiggling further into the small, uncomfortable chair, and tries to practice his worst skill: patience.

He wants his mom. He wants his nest. He wants his mom's nest, really, and he wants his mother to be in it.

He fills the room with the scent of a rotten harvest and waits. They won't tell him much of anything, even at 18; they're leaving that job for his father.

His phone buzzes and he checks it blankly. Texts from Ohishi wishing him wellness and luck. He doesn't answer. Texts from Kenta, cussing about paperwork and approval forms and promising he'll be there- he'll be there soon-

Kabo leans against his elbow, cell squeezed tight in his fist.

It takes four hours. Whatever they're doing, it isn't until the sun is down and the coffee's been changed again and again that they're done.

A warm hand peels Kabo's face from his knees. "Hey, jellybaby," Kirishima murmurs.

Kabo doesn't have to energy to complain about the ancient name. "What's going on?" His voice is dry and he chokes to spit the words.

The air is warm with the familiar comfort of earth, and Kabo clings to the hope that scent brings.

"Come on," Kirishima urges, gripping his shoulder tightly. "He wants you."

"He's okay?"

Dad hesitates, and Kabocha swallows hard. "He's okay."

A lie.

"What happened?" Kabo whispers.

"Thrown off a building," Kirishima says. "Redirected into a news 'copter that was too- fucking-" His knuckles crack and Kabo pulls out of his grip. "-close."

Oh.

He leans closer to his dad and tries to breathe in long, steady breaths. His father is taking care to intentionally scent him, focusing despite everything on encouraging calm, slowing his heartbeat, clearing his head. A real Alpha's scent, and things must not be so bad if Kirishima can manage that now, right?

The scent fades as they walk through a door with a scent blocker attached, but picks up again once they're inside.

Kabocha doesn't really notice it after that, though.

His mom sitting on a white bed attached to beeping wires and probes; it's not something he hasn't seen before. But there's usually a growled laugh and a good story to go with.

The room's silent now, and Bakugou's head is turned away.

"Katsuki, love," Kirishima rumbles, hastening back to the bed. He wraps both fists around Bakugou's waiting hand.

"Mom?" Kabo feels like he's five years old again. He slips under Kirishima's arm and presses against his father's side, leaning towards the bed. "I'm here."

"Quieter, Kabo," dad murmurs.

Bakugou stirs. "S'okay, baby," he says, defending his son.

What would it be like without his father's scent right now? It feels like that comfort is the only thing keeping him from crying right now. Crying is manly, but- Kabocha swallows tears and tries to control his own scent. He's good at it and well-practiced, but this is a test.

"Relax," Bakugou urges, his voice rough. "M'fuckin' fine. Hit my head too hard."

"Katsuki..."

"Whatever," Bakugou snaps, wincing at the effort it takes to speak. "It'll come back."

"Shhh," Kirishima says, stroking his mate's hand between his own.

Kabo's never seen his mother fail to react to being shushed, but now Bakugou just exhales slowly, silent.

"Dad? What's..."

Bakugou tugs his hand from Kirishima's and lifts it to his son, iv tubing shifting. Kabocha takes it. It's cold and clammy and wet and he wants to let go.

His mom doesn't look at him: he hasn't been looking at them this whole time, his face towards the wall and his eyes half-lidded. There's bruising across his face and up his neck, mismatched with his grotesque and beautiful Bondmark.

"Baby," he says, "I can't fuckin' see."

//

He's not completely blind; there are shadows in his right eye, but Bakugou says it's just more irritating than not. The doctors are hopeful that some vision might come back with a little bit of time, but that's the best they've got.

"We wasted all that time learning sign language, too," Bakugou barks. He's trying to laugh but fails, his expression twisting as pain springs down his spine and through his skull.

Kirishima makes no effort to hide his devastation from a mate who can't see.

Kabocha can see, though. He sees the way the doctors flinch away and the dull look in his parents' eyes. It aches and it stings and he's never felt a loss like this before, a loss that isn't a loss but is, at the same time.

It's the end of Ground Zero.

He feels like he hasn't even been there long at all before they're talking about getting him back to school, and he refuses.

"You have class, Kabo." His dad sounds too tired.

"So do you! I'll sleep on the floor! Or in the waiting room!"

"Go home, kid."

Kabo twists his fingers in the edge of Bakugou's white blankets, half tempted to glue himself to the bed. "Please," he begs, "please, mom, let me stay."

"Ei," Bakugou croaks, "my uniform."

Kabo buries his face into Bakugou's chest, scowling back tears. A hand pets his hair.

"Quit whining, baby," Bakugou whispers. "Toughen up."

"But- but you're-"

"Alive. Calm down."

How? They were supposed to work together. They were supposed to be part of the same agency, the same team. Why the fuck else had he gone through the hero course, if not for his mom?

And now- now he was gonna have to do it all alone. His whole picture of the future has been shattered into irreplaceable pieces, and fuck, that’s a selfish kind of thought when his mom is laying in a hospital bed. Kabo muffles sobs he can't hold back against his mom's steady heartbeat.

His dad's palm falls solid over his back, rubbing smooth circles before pulling him up and off. Kabo clings, but eventually allows himself to be lured away, rubbing his eyes.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"Here, Kabo," dad says quietly, pushing something into his hands. "Take this back with you."

Kabo unfurls it. It's a chunk of Ground Zero's costume, cleaned of blood but torn where they'd cut it from his body. He buries his face in it immediately. Spice. He uses it to wipe is face off, and then scrambles to pull his own shirt off.

"Woah, hey-"

His dad grabs his arm but it's too late- he's bare chested in the hospital room and shoving his own shirt into Bakugou's arms. His mother's cloudy eyes flutter.

Bakugou takes the shirt and pulls it up to his face, nuzzling against it. "Baby, thanks," he says softly into the fabric.

"Mom-" Kabo chokes, clutching scented thick fabric to his bare skin like a lifeline. "Mom."

"Kabocha, it's okay. You know? It'll be okay."

"We'll be okay," Kirishima agrees.

Kabo turns towards his dad. He feels like he's five and desperately trying to sneak into his parents nest while they sleep.

"Give him yours, too, dad," he insists.

Kirishima pauses but then nods. "Yeah. Yeah." He rolls his shirt over his head, wipes it hard acrossboth sides of his neck, and then sets it into Bakugou's waiting hand. "Here, love. Shit, babe, I-"

"Shut up," Bakugou insists. "Too whiny, the both of you."

Kirishima laughs but Kabo can't.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Kabo promises.

"Go back to school, baby." Bakugou curls both shirts near his neck and takes a breath. "I love you, brat."

Kabocha nods and then realizes with an ache that he can't see, and says, "Love you more." He can't bring himself to insult him.

The same black car takes him home. He stumbles shirtless into the dorm, pausing on the edge of the stairs to the third floor. He could go back to Ohishi. He's too alone with his thoughts and the scent of cedar would soothe him.

But he'd still be alone.

Kabocha turns around.

Kenta is still awake and lets him into the General dorms, yawning on bare feet and not asking why Kabo's shirtless. They pad up the stairs in silence. It isn't until Kabo's changed into sweats and shuffled into the small bed that Kenta speaks.

"I heard what happened."

Kabocha faces the wall and pushes his face into the mutilated hero shirt. Kenta pulls a thick blanket over them both and leans close, the space too small to bother with personal boundaries- not that either of them have any left when it comes to the other.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Kenta whispers. "I couldn't make it work."

"S'okay," Kabo answers distantly. He's not being scented but he feels better here. He doesn't care if Kenta sees him cry. He doesn't mind when Kenta touches him. He doesn't have to explain.

Kenta's head falls against the nape of his neck, warm and familiar. "I wish I could do more for you."

Kabocha swallows. There's nothing else to do. There's nothing else to be said.

Minutes later, Kenta says, rough voice even softer, "Wish I could be more for you."

Kabo frowns into the wrinkles of his mother's ruined shirt, confused and exhausted. He can't do anything but grunt a questioning noise.

Kenta's grip around him tightens and he just says, "Goodnight, Kabs. Love you, bro."

"Night," Kabo whispers back.

//

Time continues passing without regard for the souls stuck within its flow.

Bakugou's sight doesn't recover. He claims it improves a bit in his right eye, but confesses that this only makes him feel worse. It's okay, though. He retires officially from the field, and it's okay.

As far as the clamoring public is concerned- he's okay.

Maybe he's not really, though.

Kabocha isn't.

With only a few months left before graduation, everything he's been planning for has crashed. What's the fucking point, he thinks angrily, cracking stone covered knuckles against an innocent tree. What's the point of everything he's been forced to work towards anymore? Does he even want to be a fucking hero anymore? Did he ever?

His dad pulls him nightly into the gym and they both wrestle and work their anger out until they feel a little better. Or they feel a little less.

He scrambles to get his homework done between everything else, but when his eyes go blank staring at the pages, Kenta pulls it from his grasp and finishes it for him. Kabo leans into his best friend's shoulder and mopes in comfortable silence.

just another part of a life that he didn't pick for himself.

Except he specifically picked Ohishi, didn't he? And he's got no reason to unpick him, because he's a fuckin' good dude. Kabo's just being stupid and sullen and dumb. He says as much to Kenta, who hums a non-answer.

On late nights when he can be bothered to see him, he curls into Ohishi's scented, wide chest and breathes until his brain slows down.

Dad wants him to see the school therapist, because they think he's handling this bizarrely worse than he should be. Maybe he will. (He won’t.)

He feels kind of selfish being more upset than his own mother about his injury- maybe mom should be the one seeing a therapist, Kabo thinks sullenly, because mom's the one who isn't fucking taking this seriously.

Kirishima tells his son with a frown that obviously Bakugou is seeing somebody about his forced retirement and that for Katsuki, it's never as easy as he makes it seem on the outside. Of course he was looking forward to working with his son- of course he's pissed that Deku will be the one who gets to do it instead.

Too fucking late to change agencies now, anyway.

Kabocha seeks his Alpha out for comfort and calm and sex, but Ohishi only strokes his back and pulls Kabo's hand from his pants and murmurs nice things and when Kabo can't help but fucking cry in frustration and embarrassment, Ohishi holds him and looks away and pretends not to see.

Crying in front of Ohishi makes Kabocha feel weak in a way he's rarely experienced. Hot resentment settles in his chest, but Kenta talks it out of him. Sex wouldn't fix it. Sex would make him feel better for an hour but it wouldn't be a solution and then they'd both feel worse about the whole fucking thing and-

"Shut up," Kabo mumbles, burying his face into Kenta's pillow. "You're right, but shut up."

"I'm glad he helps you," Kenta says.

Kabo nudges him until his friend's hand is back stroking through long brown hair. "His stupid scent is real nice."

"Mmhmm." Kenta lifts his hand and watches pretty strands fall through his fingers. "Yours is better, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Like pumpkin spice."

"Okay, Beta."

Kenta tugs. "I can still smell you, dumbass. Just doesn't make me go all goo-goo eyed."

Kabo laughs sharply. "Whatever."

Kenta quits petting his hair and just leans close, the edges of his spiked hair tickling until Kabo blows it away from his face.

Kabo'd had dinner with Ohishi and a couple of his friends, and maybe it wasn't so bad- it was a good distraction- and then he'd punched his dad until his stone caked away from his fingers, and that was good, and now he was here in his own hand-crafted nest with Kenta, and this was best. Kenta's class president would kick them out, but Kabo's wouldn't bother him without good reason; she knew better than to fuss about an Omega's nest.

He reaches behind him for one of his mother's old shirts, still halfway like spiced tea, and cradles it.

Kenta pushes his fist into it too, teasing the fabric. "Smells like home," he murmurs into the dark shadows. He's the baby of a family with too many kids and too little time- he never wanted for anything but it was Bakugou's nest he'd slept in more often than not.

"Yeah."

Quiet grows, and Kabo's eyes fall heavy. Everyday feels so long. His breathing grows slow and even as sleep threatens them both.

Kenta sighs a long, tired breath. "You smell like home, Kacchan," he exhales.

Kabo finds the warm hand buried in his mom's shirt and holds it.

//

"Put it on- put it on!"

"No," Kabo laughs, spinning past Kenta's desk and yanking the chair in front of him like a shield against his feral friend. "They're stupid! You look dumb! I'll look dumb!" He's wearing only black boxers, hunching behind the chair.

Kenta steps forward, a neatly folded dark blue fabric hung between his hands like a weapon. He's fully dressed in a deep maroon yukata thanks to Kabo's help- and this is how he's choosing to repay the effort?

Psh. Kabo backs into the corner. "Not happening!"

"Bro, it's customary!" Kenta laughs, grinning wide. "You'll be the only one without!"

"I know that's not true," Kabo insists. "I hate trying to walk in those."

"Brooooo," Kenta whines. "I bought it just for you!"

Kabo snorts. "No, you didn't; I saw my dad hand you that."

"Ok, alright, that's true." Kenta sighs loudly. He steps back, losing the will to fight and probably worried he's going to wrinkle his own outfit. "Fine, I give up," he grumbles, laying the blue yukata carefully on the bed.

Kabo abandons the safety of the corner. He pushes the chair back in and wanders barefoot to the bed. "What's the big deal? It seems stupid."

"It's just for fun, Kabs. What're you wearing instead?" Kenta wanders into his bathroom and then back out, a can of gel in his hand. He tosses it on the desk for now.

"I dunno." Kabo runs his hands over the dark silk. "Jeans. Boots. A shirt."

"Kind of boring for your first date?"

Kabo grunts. Hard to take a first date seriously when you've been fucking for a couple weeks already. He'll admit he's looking forward to it, but he's not sure why.

"When's Ohishi meeting you?"

"Uh, after it's dark. I said we'd get food before the fireworks."

Kenta's toothy grin splits impossibly wider. "And I get you before then?"

"Whatever."

Kenta laughs and Kabo can't resist smiling with him even as he rolls his eyes.

"It's just a dumb festival; dunno what you're so excited about." Kabo flips the silk over to look at the black obi beneath. He's... gonna wear it, he decides suddenly. Without acknowledging that he's giving in, he picks up the pieces and says, "Help me put this shit on."

"Fuck yeah!" Kenta scrambles to help, manhandling Kabo and twisting him around until the pieces come together.

Kenta's real close. Kabo catches a quick glimpse of them both in the mirror and thinks maybe the yukata isn't quite so dumb. The red clashes nicely with Kenta's hair, and for some reason there's a bright yet subtle pattern of flames embroidered into his obi. The collar of his robes are starting to slip already and Kabo absently reaches to straighten it when Kenta ducks to reach around his waist with the first tie.

Kenta glances up for a quick second and then down again, his hands hesitating before swinging around to secure the knot over Kabo's hips. "Hold still," he warns, still looking down at what he's doing.

"These things are so cumbersome," Kabo complains.

"They're cute," Kenta says

Kabo glances again towards the mirror. He gives the whole thing maybe half an hour before he gives up and shrugs out of it. But- they do look nice, though. Kenta's the same height as he is but thicker, and the difference is obvious when he straightens back up.

Kabo refused the stupid stuffing and when tied off, the thinness of his waist is ridiculous when compared to his friend. He looks down at himself, frowning- those are Omega genetics, or Bakugou genetics, and they don't fit a brawler class hero like he's trying to be, and-

Kenta pushes Kabo's hands away from where they've settled in his own hips. "You look good," he says, because he's stupid and too good at reading Kabo's mind after all these years. He clears his throat, turning to reach for the obi. "Ohishi will be stunned."

"Stunned enough to skip the festival entirely?" Kabo grumbles. He absolutely plans on trying to get the Alpha horny enough to skip and retreat into their room.

"You'll have fun," Kenta promises. He spread the obi in his hands; this one is a lighter blue and embroidered with patterns of silver. "I've always said you should go to one."

"Ugh. Figured I should, I guess."

"It's the last one! Arms up, bro- I'm just glad I didn't have to beg you to come to this one."

Kabo moves his arms out of the way. Mina had taught Kenta how to tie these things years ago but Kabo never bothered to learn. He watches Kenta's hands twist and snorts. "You didn't ask me to go even once this year," he points out.

"Yeah, well. Your Alpha was too fast and beat me to it."

"Ohishi asked me as a date," Kabo grunts.

Kenta hesitates. "Yeah," he says, twisting fabric. He doesn't look up and Kabo's view is all pink.

"Yeah?" Kabo asks quietly.

"Yeah," Kenta answers and Kabo sucks in a breathe until he finishes, "yeah, he asked you out."

Kenta finishes the tie and twists the knot around to the back, standing up straight. For a long, quiet, moment, a bizarrely uncomfortable moment unlike most of their time spent together, their eyes meet. Red to pale silver.

Kabo feels suddenly warm. He's tempted to rip the yukata right off, but Kenta's fingers are still dipped inside the blue obi wrap.

Kenta breaks the stare first, pulling his hands back and looking upward. "What are you doing with your hair?"

"I dunno," Kabo whispers. He's not sure why he's being quiet, but it feels right. "You wanna do it?"

The corner of Kenta's mouth twitches into a soft smile. "Yeah," he says, "I do."

//

Kabo's long hair winds up in a neat bun, tucked together under Kenta's practiced hands. His messy short bangs are sheparded into a semblance of neatness, curling around his horns and ears.

Kenta tweaks the edge of a horn to signal that he's finished and grabs his gel to finish liberally spiking his mohawk skyward. The look is somewhat recent; a crazy decision to shave his head in the middle of the night last summer. It suits him, Kabo thinks, reaching to untwist two sticking strands.

Kenta has a pair of geta to match the yukata, but Kabo is unwilling to concede that much and pulls on his dark boots. Kenta laughs but he doesn't chastise, and together they pause to stand in front of the bathroom mirror.

"We look stupid," Kabo announces.

"Bro, we look awesome."

Kabo narrows his eyes, upset because they do.

"You wanna take a picture for your-" Kenta cuts himself off with a small choking sound. Kabo looks away.

Fuck. That's a whole new thought, huh? Guess he won't be cutting his hair anytime soon if he wants to pretend that his mom knows what he looks like.

Kenta grabs his elbow. "Hey, I'm sorry," he says, pulling gently.

Kabo lets himself be turned. "M'not mad," he says, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. "Just frustrated."

Kenta wraps his fingers around Kabo's wrist and pulls his hand down. He leans forward until their foreheads brush. "I won't force you to go out to the festival if you really don't want to, Kabs," Kenta says.

Kabo frowns, looking up to meet his friend's very close eyes. "I'm going to meet Ohishi," he reminds him.

"Oh," Kenta says, in a tone that makes it clear he hasn't forgotten, "right."

Kabo lifts a hand to Kenta's face and brushes his thumb through the gentle curling if his silver eyelashes.

They've always been touchy with each other, familiar in every way, but lately, maybe- Kabo feels like lately some of their touches are new.

Like this one.

"Kabo," Kenta murmurs, distracting him from doing anything with that peculiar thought, "you're scenting so much."

"Am I?" Kabo asks distantly, still running his thumb back and forth under Kenta's eye.

"Uh-huh."

"Just anxious," Kabo lies.

The bathroom smells too sweet, but Kenta won't know the difference. Maybe. Probably, Kabo hopes.

Kenta's eyes flicker over his face and then he pulls back, away from Kabo's forehead and away from his absent touching.

"You should wipe your neck down," Kenta suggests.

"Yeah," Kabo nods. He swallows and hunts for a washcloth, cleaning scent from the glands that are- are doing what? Betraying him? There's nothing to betray- he doesn't... It's not like...

They take a picture together in the bathroom mirror and Kabo tries to smile.

The festival is busy as fuck, and Kabo grimaces. He hates being crowded by messy strangers, mixing scents and enduring the bustle of ridiculous noise.

"Stick with me, it's okay," Kenta assures him, hooking their arms together.

"If you fuckin' lose me, I'll glue us together."

Kenta laughs loudly, teeth flashing, and Kabo tugs his elbow hard enough to get him to trip. Sucker. They both grin.

Kenta insists on showing Kabo his favorite parts of the festival, and they lose money on games and decked out foods, pausing to play around with the support class's demonstrations before moving on to watch the second years attempt some kind of bizarre dance performance.

It doesn't take long for Kabo to relax, even in the swarm of students and alumni and other invited guests. They get separated once when a beeping robot wanders between them, but Kenta grabs him quickly and squeezes their hands together. Kabo's half tempted to really glue them together, but the warmth of sweaty skin to skin is...

Fuck, he's a mess tonight. It's growing darker, too, and he sighs around the last bite of a weird green takoyaki. "I gotta meet Ohishi soon," he says. He shouldn't feel so bad about it, should he? Meant the festival was almost over and he could go home soon.

But looking at Kenta's brilliant grin, his pink cheeks and pinker hair- Kabo has the idle thought that he might want the night to last longer.

It scares him a little.

Kenta pulls him in a new direction. "Okay, sure, but you have to see my class's booth first!" he begs, dragging Kabo through the busy aisles. "I think they're... Oh! Here!"

It's a booth dolled up in pretty shades of red, and a couple students Kabo thinks maybe he recognizes as being members of Kenta's class are playing hostess to the public. Kenta drags him under the overhang and into the booth, pulling him towards the central display.

It's flowers. A lot of flowers, but they aren't real ones. He sees a lot of glass, some clear and some stained rainbow shades. There are pale metal blooms and others painted thickly. The students are trying them with ribbons that their patrons have written in with marker, and passing them into new hands.

"These are pretty. What're you putting on them, wishes?" he guesses.

"Yes! Ann made the glass ones and Chieko infused the colors into them and I did the metal ones!"

Kenta plucks one at random from the display and hands it to him proudly.

"You did this?" Kabo asks with full awe, twisting a fairly accurate Lily painted white between his fingers. A distant memory pulls at him as he looks at it, a vision of a clumsy, crumpled little crane bird made out of mangled metal. This is nothing like that.
"Yeah," Kenta says, plucking the flower and putting it back. "I've been practicing. If I'm fast enough and focus enough, I can curl petals out of my hands." Kabo doesn't really know what to say. He can't remember the last time he's been surprised by Kenta. "You didn't show me?"

"Wanted to make sure I could do it right! And I wanted you to see it like this," he adds, motioning towards the artificial garden. "This is why I've been so busy the last few weeks."

"Huh."

"You like it?"

"Yeah, just- huh."

Kenta smiles.

Kabo has been focusing on forcing his quirk into brute strength and reliability in combat, using stone as a defense and a weapon. He can drop a shield in seconds and can easily coat his arms up to his elbow to fight.

Using it for anything else is... Huh.

He remembers making sandcastles out of sand and stone when he was very little. Skipping stones when they visited the lake. Cement glue when he didn't want to leave places, but- to see Kenta using his nearly identical quirk for something so vividly beautiful and original and smart is kind of overwhelming.

He's jealous. He is, a bit. But honestly? Most of all? Kabo's really fucking proud of his best friend.

"Kenta, Kenta! Do you have a flower for me?" calls a sing-song voice.

Kenta turns, startled, but his face brightens when he sees who is leaning over the edge of the booth. "Minako! You didn't tell me you were coming?"

"I'm sure I did," his sister laughs.

Kabo follows him over. "Hi, 'nako," he grunts.

She smiles at him. She's taller than them both, with pink hair cropped short and wickedly curly. The ridges on her metal bones only grew more pronounced as she aged, and the sharpness of her cheekbones as she grins would be unnerving if he wasn't so used to her. "And Kabocha, too, obviously. You meet Mikami yet?" She swings her arm around a waif of an Omega, drawing them close.

Kabo eyes them, and then shrugs. They look petite and quiet and he's hard-pressed to figure out how they survive Minako's excitable brand of existence.

Kabo isn't Minako's biggest fan, because they've spent too many years fighting over nesting materials and parental affection. He loves her, because he loves all his pseudo-siblings, but there's an aura of Omegan competition between them.

Kenta loves Minako in a way different from his older siblings, because she's closer in age and she's tried to mother him since he was fresh from the womb. So Kabo tries to get along with her, but he still eyes her warily tonight.

Weird to see her nuzzling another Omega, but maybe no Alpha would put up with her.

Eh, that's kind of a mean thought. He's lucky he refrained from saying it out loud.

"Hi, Mikami!" Kenta reaches a hand out for them, taking their tiny hand into his and shaking proudly. "Nice to meet you!"

"Hi, Tetsutetsu," they say gently.

Minako ruffles their dark hair. "Did you make us a pretty flower, Kenta? We need a wish, please."

Kenta grins. "Yes! Here, hang on-" He swings around towards the display and hovers over a selection of painted flowers before plucking one. "A rose for romance?" he suggests coyly, winking.

Kabo rolls his eyes, amused.

Minako laughs brightly. She leans to grab a ribbon and a marker, uncapping it and glancing at her date. "A shared wish, sweet?"

Mikami doesn't answer out loud but they do flush red.

Humming loudly, Minako scribbles something on the ribbon. She takes the metal flower and ties it up before presenting it without comment to Mikami. They smile gently and take it from her with delicate fingers, clutching it to their chest.

The look they share is enough to affect even Kabo, who feels suddenly a little bit warm despite the cooling evening.

"You two look very handsome in your yukata," Minako tells them.

"Yeah," Kenta laughs, "but Kabs has me beat by a mile."

"Shut up," Kabo hisses. He knocks a fist against Kenta's elbow. "You look fine."

"Yeah, I know! But you look better, dude!"

"Ugh," Kabo groans. "Stupid."

Minako laughs again and wraps her arm around her date's waist. "Well, I'm off to go eat as much sugar as possible. Have fun, okay?"

"We will!" Kenta calls after them.

"Haven't seen her in a while," Kabo comments, watching them disappear into the crowd.

"She's so busy with hero work. Mom'll flip when she hears she's dating, though."

"An itty bitty Omega, too."

Kenta snorts. "Wonder what she wished for."

Minako? Probably money, knowing her, but maybe something like safety in the hero field, or joy, or- well, they way she looked at her date, maybe something corny like love. Two Omegas isn't weird; he shouldn't have been so surprised by it, but he ponders it for a long second.

Kenta tugs the sleeve of his yukata and Kabo shifts closer, thinking he's being moved out of the way of the actual booth workers- but there isn't anybody trying to get behind him.

"Before your date gets here," Kenta says so quietly that Kabo has to step even closer to hear him.

Kenta bends awkwardly to reach under the edge of the booth, making his obi slip and his collar ruffle. "Here," he says, coming back up with a silver flower in his hand. "This one is for you."

Kabo takes it. There's already a ribbon twisted around the stem, stuck there with dabs of metal quirk glue. It's a simple flower with wide petals and a rising center, and it's been left unpainted.

"A daffodil," Kenta explains. He reaches to pinch the edge of one of the petals. "This is the best one I've made," he says. "I wanted to save it for you."

It's very pretty. Unlike some of the others, there's no remnants of slow fingerprints or hints of misshapen petals. It's shiny and silver and Kabo twists it in his fingers, blinking. It reflects the festival lights in faded flashes. "Oh," he says, still taken aback by Kenta's ability to have done anything like this at all. "Thanks."

Kenta takes it from him carefully and lifts it, stepping to split the distance between them. "Let me just-" He reaches behind Kabo's head and taps the nape of his neck until Kabo ducks his face down.

With skilled hands, Kenta tucks the metal flower into Kabo's bun, puffing hair until he's sure it will stick. "Pretty," he says. "It suits you."

Kabo lifts his head back up. The weight in his hair is noticeable but not irritating; the flower's lighter than it looks. He reaches up to touch it but Kenta grabs his wrist and pulls his hand back down.

He doesn't let go.

"What's the ribbon say?" Kabo asks.

"It's just a wish for you," Kenta says.

Kabo tries to reach for it again but Kenta grabs his other hand, too.

"Come on," Kabo insists, "tell me."

Kenta shakes his head. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much lately," he says instead. "This project was a lot more overwhelming than I thought it would be. But I wanted to do this part, so that I wouldn't have to work the booth."

Kenta's hands are too warm around his wrists and Kabocha can feel the hint of steel shimmer from a thumb, but he doesn't pull away. "You've been there," he argues half-heartedly.

"Not as much as normal! Not as much as I should have been, after- after everything."

"It's whatever," Kabo tries. "Bro, it's fine."

"I dunno, doesn't feel like it." Kenta shrugs and glances down. "I just really wanted to impress you with all this and-"

"I'm fuckin' impressed," Kabo insists. "I can't do shit like this with mine."

"I bet you could," Kenta says. "You could if you practiced- you're good at everything."

"Not math."

Kenta snorts. "Fair." His grip shifts. "Well, I wanted- I wanted to make sure I could spend the festival with you and not worry about having to work it with my class," he continues.

It's hard to tell if Kenta's blushing with the darkening sky and the flashing lights, but between the pink of his hair and the maroon of his yukata- maybe he is. Kabo doesn't know what to make of it; this conversation feels like... it feels more serious than it should be.

his friend understands how that feels.

Kabo isn't sure if he understands how that feels, suddenly. "I'm glad I came," he admits suddenly. "I'm glad I came to the festival."

Kenta nods. "Me too. I'm glad an Alpha convinced you to go." Kenta's smile fades just a hair- not enough for anybody but Kabo, who knows his face better than he knows his own, to notice.

Kabo sucks in a long breath.

He's... he's fucked up, he thinks.

This isn't...

He can't be this stupid, right?

Kabocha really wants to know what the wish tucked safe into his hair says.

"Hey, Kenta?" He twists their hands until it's not just Kenta holding his. "I'm sorry I never agreed to go with you, before. I think that I-"

Kenta looks up over his shoulder suddenly, and Kabo stops.

Hands wrap around his waist and Kenta steps away from him.

"You're so pretty," Ohishi says, pressing his mouth to Kabo's neck in a hinted kiss. "I'm happy to see you."

Cedar and warmth. Kabo breathes. He turns to face his Alpha. Ohishi's wearing a yukata too, in black. "Hi," Kabo says, blinking.

Ohishi reaches for his hair. "That's pretty-"

Kabo grabs his hand before he can touch the flower, twining their fingers together. "Don't mess it up," he warns.

"Yeah, of course," Ohishi chuckles roughly.

"Kenta made-" Kabo turns back around but Kenta's gone. He frowns.

"What do you want to eat, Kirishima?" Ohishi asks, shuffling them out of the booth.

"Don't care," he answers absently, turning his head over his shoulder to try and look for his friend.

"I smelled some really good yakitori at a first year booth," Ohishi suggests.

"Sure." Kabo's not really listening; he's already eaten tons of shit with Kenta, anyway. "Hang on one sec', okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Ohishi agrees, lightly confused.

"Just wait here," Kabo adds.

Ohishi nods and Kabo pulls his hand away and ducks back through the crowd. They haven't made it that far away from Kenta's booth and he rushes back.

"Kenta?" he asks the first General Studies student he sees there.

She glances around and then shrugs. "Tetsu? I dunno."

Ugh, fuck. He's not really sure exactly why he came back here; maybe it's because their conversation feels heavy and unfinished. Fuck, it's not important then. There's always later. Kabocha puffs his cheek in a pout, turning to go back to his date.

But then he hears a noise and a thud and he ducks behind the booths into the back staffing alley, pausing at a corner because it's-

It's Kenta, but he's crying.

And Minako's voice too, gently shushing, curling soft Omegan noises of comfort into the air. "Hey, sweet, it's okay," she murmurs.

Kenta's voice catches hard, his words stuttered and messy and his breath choking on wet sobs that hit Kabo hard. "I can't- 'nako, I can't- I just-"

"Shhh, shhh," Minako answers, humming over him. "It's alright."

"You can't say that," Kenta argues, voice muffled.

What- what is he so upset about, that Kabo doesn't know it? It's- Kenta wouldn't-

Fuck, what the fuck-

Kabo presses his hand into his eye, willing himself not to cry- he's always been a stupid fucking sympathetic crier- he doesn't understand what's happening to Kenta but his stupid bleeding heart instincts-

Fuck- and Kenta's gone to Minako instead of him, so- did he do something wrong? Is this his fault?

Is this-

-a wish tied up in his hair-

Kabo clutches at his collar and turns away.

Ohishi's waiting exactly where he was left, and by the time Kabo remembers where that was, he feels-

Not better, not at all- confused and lost and afraid of himself and of Kenta, afraid of a metal flower.

He presses his face into Ohishi's chest. "Scent me," he mumbles.

//

Ohishi buys him whatever food he asks for but it all tastes the same, bland and forgettable. He can't stop thinking about Kenta crying in the shadows, and hands his shaved ice off to Ohishi without having finished much of it.

Ohishi finds a trashcan as they walk and takes care of it for him. He slides his arm around Kabo's waist and leans in. "Are you okay, Kirishima? Do you feel well?"

Kabo shrugs half-heartedly. "Don't like crowds," he answers,and it's a truth but not the truth. "And just- call me Kabocha. I don't care."

"Oh." Ohishi plants a kiss over Kabo's hairline. "Yeah, gladly. Kabocha. The fireworks are starting; we can move someplace quieter."

Kabo lets himself he shuffled away from the crowds and noisy tents towards the dark, wondering distantly where Kenta was going to watch from. Kenta always loved the fireworks. Kabo did too, but he always preferred the more dangerous ones that his mom could make.

Ohishi leads them both to a little hill of a spot near the edge of campus. They aren't alone but it's not so packed yet; there's still time before the show.

Ohishi sits on the damp grass and Kabo immediately straddles his lap, throwing his arms around his neck and leaning in. The Alpha huffs, amused, and throws his hands around Kabo's waist.

"Hi, there," he murmurs.

Kabo breathes against his neck before lifting his head to kiss him hard. He starts fast, tongue flicking over chapped lips, rocking himself eagerly in the Alpha's lap. He wants a distraction; he wants to forget the silence of the night. He wants to see if he can get Ohishi worked up enough that they just leave, retreating.

Ohishi doesn't complain. He kisses back eagerly, used to Kabo's aggressive displays of affection. One hand drifts upward, sliding to tease his sensitive glands, and Kabo can't help whimpering into the kiss.

Feels good. He doesn't care about the other people in the dark. He just wants to forget for a little bit where he is and how he feels and what Kenta sounds like crying in the dark.

Kenta...

Kabo squeezes his eyes shut and shoves his tongue deep in Ohishi's mouth.

There's a thought that teeters on the edge of his mind, but he's not ready to let it fall yet.

Ohishi tastes good and his fingers know which spots to tease, how to pull his hair- he pushes his fingers into Kabo's bun and untangles it. Brown hair tumbles down Kabo's back messily, and a silver daffodil thumps into the grass by their feet.

Kabocha pulls back, distracted by the noise. He twists and reaches for it, gripping the ribboned stem tightly.

"That's cute," Ohishi says, looking down at the flower Kabo holds between them in trembling hands.

Kabo ignores him. He turns the flower, letting it glint in the distant lamplight,and after half of a single thought he pops the bonding metal and the ribbon unfurls in his hand.

He reads it with his breath held. He frowns, and reads it again.

It's just a pair of kanji. "Happiness" and "contentment".

He turns it over, but of course there's nothing else.

Happiness and contentment. That's it? That's Kenta's wholeass stupid fucking wish? The big secret ribbon prepared beforehand and saved just for him?

His mouth feels dry.

Well, what else would it have been? What had he been expecting?

Ohishi pulls the ribbon from his hands and Kabo lets him. "Oh, a wish," he says, surprised. He hadn't looked at the booth- he doesn't know what it means.

Kabo realises that he doesn't either- and that's the point of the wish. That's all he's been fucking seeking, isn't it?

He just wants to be fucking happy, and he isn't. He wants to be content, but he can't be. Everything in his life just feels so fucking wrong right now, from his schooling to his future career to his...

He looks up at Ohishi with tears pooling in his eyes. "Masu," he says, "I can't do this anymore."

Ohishi is quiet for a long time, long enough for the tears to finally start falling down Kabo's pale cheeks. When he speaks, it's with a gentle sigh. "Okay."

Kabo's breath hitches. "Okay?"

"Kabocha..." His mouth twists into a wry smile. "You don't even like me, do you?"

Kabo blinks. "What- I do, fuck, I do or I wouldn't have-"

"Shhh," Ohishi says, and Kabo hates being shushed but he falls silent. "I'm not dumb. You never want to hang out with me or do things with me that aren't just... sex."

He clears his throat and glances away. Maybe it's the night lighting but it looks like his yellow eyes are glossy, wet. "I've left it be because you've been going through some shit and I thought it might come in time, but..." He sighs again, absently curling Kabo's hair between his fingers.

Kabocha's chest feels tight. He had managed to convince himself that whatever their relationship was, it was normal or it would be normal, eventually. He was so fucking wrong. "I'm sorry," he admits. "Your scent makes me feel good."

"Yeah, Kabocha." Ohishi shrugs with another short sigh. "That's biology."

Yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Even now Ohishi is Scenting him with comforting cedar, and even now Kabo wonders if that might be good enough-

"I should have listened to my friends, I guess," Ohishi continues.

Kabo frowns, waiting.

"They all said you were in love with Kenta and that I shouldn't bother, but with graduation coming, I just panicked and had to try."

Kenta?

Kabo looks down at his hands, a silver flower in one and a wish for happiness in the other.

Oh.

Kenta.

"I'm so stupid," he whispers.

How hadn't he noticed? His dad had told him. His mom has told him. Kenta had fucking told him an hour ago, and every fucking day before that, but he's so fucking dumb and focused on cedar- too focused on his own stupid crybaby problems-

Ohishi pushes messy bangs behind the lip of his horn. "Thanks for giving me a chance, I guess. This is my fault, probably; reached for the sun or whatever."

"No, it's definitely fucking my fault," Kabo says.

Ohishi smiles softly. "Its okay. I'm glad for the time that I got. I really like you, Kabo."

And Kabo's definitely an ass, because he's barely listening. "I'm gonna go," he says, leaning back suddenly to stand up.

Ohishi helps him up and casually fixes his yukata where it's sliding down a shoulder. "I'll see you in class, Kabo."

Kabo looks at him once and his heart twists because Ohishi's definitely crying and he'll probably continue doing so after he leaves, but Kabo's thinking only of Kenta's tears and how they suddenly make too much sense.

Oh, he's so fucking goddamn stupid! They both are!

He doesn't say goodbye to Ohishi, he just adjusts his stupid blue yukata and leaves.

//

Kenta isn't at the booth and they haven't seen him since he left that first time. Kabo grumbles a reluctant, "Thanks anyway," and rushes back into the crowd. He looks for maroon or pink or- oh! Oh. It's just Minako. He curses himself for jumping.

She shrugs. She doesn't think he was going to meet up with friends; she coyly suggests maybe he's gone home for the night.

"Before the fireworks?"

Minako eyes him, her hand firmly entwined with her date's. "Kabo..."

"No, I know," he cuts her off. "Fuck, I know."

"Yeah? Well-"

"Just- bye," he snaps. There's no time to sit and have a stupid conversation with her. She's sure to give him enough shit later but for now he just turns his back on her and pushes back into the crowd.

So many fucking people! He shoves past carelessly, straining through the main aisle towards. At some point he elbows somebody hard enough that they shout at him, but he doesn't pause to apologize.

The festival has thinned out a little bit as people way their ways towards good spots for fireworks.

Finally he breaks through the entrance gate, chest heaving with quick breaths. Okay. Dorms. He turns towards the General dorms and runs, really fuckin' glad he wore his boots and not those stupid customary sandals.

And he sees him, finally, walking a dimly lit path with his head ducked low. Kabocha pauses, skidding to a stop on the pavement. He hasn't actually thought this far, but- Well, whatever. Impulsive decisions, right?

Kabo lurches forward and runs, his boots thudding hard. Kenta doesn't notice until Kabo's too close. He hesitates, looking up, but Kabo fuckin' slams into him and knocks them both to the ground, rolling from the pavement into the softer grass.

Kenta grunts and throws out a reflexive jab with his elbow. Kabocha blocks it with his forearm, a sheen of rock crumbling away after it's taken the hit.

"Kenta!"

"Fuck, dude-" Kenta tries to turn over so that he's not face-down in the dirt. Kabo hauls off him and lets him sit up, flopping back onto his ass in the grass as well.

They're quiet for a moment as they both catch their breath. Kenta's yukata has gotten mussed in the tussle, and he tries to pull the robe back in place.

Kabo's was a mess halfway through the crowd, and both sides hang loose from his shoulders. He grumbles and yanks his arms free, letting the whole crumpled thing just hang free from his waist. At least Kenta’s ties are holding up. It's kind of cold out now in the late spring night air, but he's flushed across his chest and and so warm that his skin feels like it's boiling.

He bends his knee and kicks Kenta's leg as hard as he can. "Fuck you."

Kenta kicks him back harder. "Hey, fuck you."

"Happiness and contentment?" Kabo asks. "Really?"

Kenta looks away. "So what?"

"So- so you- ugh," Kabo groans.

Kenta kicks his sandals off and pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. He sets his chin over his knees. "Why are you here?" Kenta asks sullenly.

Kabo leans back on his hands. "Guess."

"Uh, Ohishi dumped you?"

"Naw. I dumped him."

Kenta frowns and looks up at him. "Why?"

Kabo looks up at the streetlight and says, "Because your stupid fucking ass is in love with me."

"Oh." Kenta tucks his head down and presses his whole face into his knees. His voice is muffled when he says, "Minako told you?"

"No. Ohishi did. Well, sort of- I mean, your stupid ribbon play did, too, and everybody else, but-" Kabo clears his throat. "Uh. You do, though?"

There's a rustling sound and then Kenta flops on his back next to Kabo. "Just wanna see you happy, man," he says quietly.

Kabo turns his head to look at him, sure he's rubbing grass into his hair. "You think I don't want the same for you?"

"I know you do, but-," Kenta says, trying to defend himself

"How come I gotta find this shit out from everybody but you?"

"I figured you knew?"

"I'm dumb!" Kabo throws a hand into the air and lets it fall back onto his stomach with a thud. "I'm dumb as fuck!"

Kenta laughs quietly.

"And I've been busy lately, too, so cut me some-"

"It's not a new thing, dude."

"What?"

"Uhm." Kenta tries for an embarrassed laugh. "I think maybe when we were eleven, and you-"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Well, you were-"

"Kenta."

"What?"

"You're just as much a dumbfuck as I am."

Kenta simply looks at him from the corner of his gaze and attempts a half-smile.

Kabo rolls over towards him, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning over his... friend? He looks down at him, serious for once, eyes flickering over his face before meeting his eyes again. "Kenta," he says quietly. "You really love me?"

Kenta pauses, pulling his lip between his dagger teeth, and then he nods.

"You should have told me."

"But you had an Alpha," Kenta argues.

"You just told me how long it's been," Kabo points out.

"You..." Kenta frowns, trying to turn his head away. "You should have an Alpha."

Kabo grabs his chin in one hand and forces his gaze back. "What?"

"That's how it works, right? I mean- can you imagine? Your mom, and you with a Beta- right?" He tries to laugh and chokes.

"What's my mom have to do with this?"

Kenta frowns. "Katsuki hates Betas, Kabs."

"Well, not you! You don't count!" Kabo lets go of his chin and simply rests his palm over Kenta's chest.

"Yeah? 'Cuz all I remember is just- 'oh, when you get an Alpha' and 'that's what you're made for, Kabo-'."

Them for us and us for them.

Fuck.

But- "He thought we were already together, though,” Kabo remembers. “He didn't care!"

Kenta seems skeptical. "Your mom literally gave me a cake at my presentation party that was meant for an Alpha but he scribbled "not an" last minute."

"Well, uh, that's because we all thought you were!"

"Why?"

"I mean, because it was always you and me, so-"

"So you're an Omega, and I should've been an Alpha. Yeah." Kabo falls silent. Kenta's not wrong, and he hasn't realized the extent of it all until now. It hurts that Kenta’s never said anything. It hurts more that he never thought about it on his own.

"And then," Kenta continues, "you never accepted any dates or anything from anybody until an Alpha asked. So."

"That's different," Kabo says, but he doesn't have any real defense for why, because Kenta's right. He'd dated Ohishi for his secondary gender and for his soothing scent and because he was fucking curious, okay? He wanted to know what it was his mom was always so fucking hyped about.

But shit, hadn't mom always said he had his eye on dad while he wasn't even Scenting at all? While he was muted on suppressants?

"It's not different," Kenta says faintly. He moves to sit up.

"But I broke it off with Ohishi," Kabo points out, leaning back to give Kenta space to sit.

"You shouldn't have; he's really nice."

"Sure, but with him I wasn't... I wasn't happy." Kenta visibly swallows. Kabo reaches for his hand. "And I wasn't content, either."

"Kabo..."

"This is so stupid. I hate all this emotional batshit."

That makes Kenta laugh again, which is what he'd been trying for. "Says the Omega," Kenta teases. He twists his hand in Kabo's to tangle their fingers together.

"You're my very best friend," Kabo says, more seriously now.

Kenta looks at him, brow furrowed. "Yeah. You're mine, too. Obviously."

"Obviously."

"So are we gonna kiss or what?"

Kenta blinks at him, clearly surprised. "What?"

"What? What d'you mean, what?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"Fuckin' hell, how much more of this confession shit do you want, Kenta?" Kabo groans, exasperated.

Kenta pulls his hand away and shoves him. "You didn't confess shit!"

"Hah?"

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Kabs," he promises.

Kenta jumps him and he fights back and there's a long minute of grunting and cussing and muted thumps as they wrestle in the middle of the dormitory courtyard in the dark.

Panting, finally Kenta lands on top, pinning Kabo's arms over his head. He leans down. "I hate you."

"Yeah?"

"No."

Kabo idly tries to free his hands. "You know the fireworks have started?"

Kenta half turns to look up and the sky, and Kabo wasn't lying but he uses the distraction to roll them both over until he's straddling Kenta this time. "That grass is cold," he says.

"This is a better view anyway," Kenta allows. Colors start to crackle above them in earnest, Kabo suspects his Beta isn't even talking about the sky.

Kabo leans in and cups Kenta's round face into his hands; he feels hands rest over his thighs. "Hey," he says.

"Yeah?" Kenta stares up at him, mohawk smudged into the grass and yukata beyond fixing.

Kabocha bends forward. "Hey," he says again, much softer now, his warm breath close enough to fall over Kenta's lips. "I love you too," he says, and kisses him under the fireworks.

Kenta’s lips are rough and chapped but kissing him is so fucking good, so fucking different from kissing Ohishi even when there’s no scent but the grass they’ve been rolling it. Fireworks spark and shatter over them, but Kabo’s heart beats even louder in his chest. This is it- this is the whole fucking thing he’s been missing, and it was right here in front of him the entire time.

He falls against Kenta’s chest, kissing him like he’s gonna die if he stops. Kenta’s hands lift to tangle in his messed up hair, pulling him down and closer.

After they have to pull away to breathe, Kabo ducks his head into Kenta’s shoulder and for a moment all they can do is just fucking laugh.

“Wow,” Kenta says, breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Kabocha agrees.

“Uh.”

“Wow,” Kabo says. They’re really out of words, stupid and panting in the middle of the fucking campus grass. Kabo kisses bare skin underneath the collar of the yukata. “You wanna go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Mhm.” Actually, Kabo knows his friend better than that. “You wanna lay out here and finish watch the fireworks?”

Kenta laughs again, lowering his hands to wrap around Kabo’s waist and squeeze him close. “Yeah.”

“Alright, stupid.” Kabo presses his face into Kenta’s neck, wriggling until he’s comfortable on top of him. He doesn’t really care about watching the fireworks. He lays on Kenta’s wide chest and enjoys this feeling of- ha. Of happiness and contentment. Kenta’s thudding pulse is louder than the snapping explosions in the sky, and sounds better, too.

//

“Oh, fuck, Kabs-”

Kenta’s hands tighten around his waist and Kabo pulls his lips from Kenta’s neck with a pop. “Yeah?”

“That feels so good,” Kenta admits.

The fireworks are long over, and they’ve stumbled back to Kenta’s room, giggling most of the way at the bizarreness of what they’re doing; the newness of it. They could have been kissing this whole fucking time? It’s a wild thought. There’s a lot of fucking time to make up for, huh?

“I’ve got practice now,” Kabocha brags before pressing the flat of his tongue to the purple mark he’s just finished leaving. They’re resting in a half-nest of discarded yukata, naked and touching places that maybe they’ve touched before, but not like this.

“Hey, uh-” Kenta begins, but he cuts himself off before finishing.

Nuh-uh. “What?” Kabo pries, kissing up his chin until their eyes meet again. He frowns at the expression Kenta’s making- a hit of his own frown, wavering uncertainty. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kenta assures him, leaning forward for a quick kiss that turns not so quick.

After a bit, Kabo pulls back again. One palm is flat on Kenta’s chest, squished between them, and the other pats through the shaved side of Kenta’s head. “I’m gonna panic if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you,” he confesses, still thinking about it.

Kenta shifts. “I’m worried that I won’t live up to… what you’ve already had,” he finally says.

Kabo lets out a long breath. The room’s filled with his scent, a sugar autumn comfort, a sweet singing song of happiness and lust, but it doesn’t push Kenta the way it’d pushed Ohishi. Kenta’s eyes remain unclouded and concerned, and part of Kabo’s worried too, because how much of his sex before was just fueled by scenting and instinct?

“You’re already better,” he tries to assure Kenta, stroking across his chest and letting his palm curl around a thick pectoral muscle.

“I don’t have a knot,” Kenta says, pointing out the obvious.

Kabo pecks him on the lips. “I never let him knot me,” he admits. He’d never been able to handle the thought of being stuck to Ohishi afterwards.

“I don’t have a scent, Kabs.”

“Well, you have a smell. You smell like sweat.”

“Oh. Great.”

“And a little bit like dried tears. And sometimes there’s a hint of sharp metal, if you’re using your quirk..”

Kenta’s hands slide up his back. “I guess,” he says.

Kabo swallows and bends to kiss Kenta’s throat so that he doesn’t have to look at him when he says, “I’m nervous, too, you know.”

“You?”

“M’not embarrassed or worried or whatever, but like, this. This kind of feels like a big thing.” He’s very good at fucking up big things. He’s impulsive and crude and- well, but Kenta’s always been there with him, matching him half the time, supporting him and- fuck, and loving him, apparently, loving him in a way that’s different and big and- Kabo laughs. “You fucking love me!”

“It’s weird that it’s not a secret anymore.”

“Shouldn’t have been a secret at all,” Kabo insists.

“I know, Kabs. I know.”

“No secrets between us.”

Kenta shifts and rolls them over until he’s on top, pushing himself up on an elbow. With the other hand he cradles the edge of Kabo’s face and tilts until Kabo has to look at him. “No more secrets,” he agrees. He leans down to kiss him once again.

Kabo is pretty sure he’ll never get tired of it. Kenta’s not great at it and Kabo’s too used to an Alpha controlling the aggression, so their sharp teeth click against each other and their tongues get in the way, but it’s still, each time, the best kiss he’s ever had. He’s no idea how long he’s loved Kenta like this without realising it, but he knows for sure that’s what this is, that heat in his chest that he’s been missing. His mind buzzes with glee that he can barely contain, and yeah, fuck, he’s hard, too.

He grinds upward into Kenta’s weight, shifting his legs and spreading his knees to get Kenta between them.

Kenta sucks in a sharp breath, adjusting himself to better fit.

He’s not as big as Ohishi had been, but Kabo doesn’t give a flying fuck. Kenta’s cock is hard and warm in the crook of his thigh, brushing his own when he rolls against it.

They spend a few minutes experimenting with different thrusts and touches before Kabo whines. “Kenta, please,” he pants. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll die.”

“That’s dramatic,” Kenta answers.

“Come on,” Kabo begs. He’s not above begging for sex. He wants it so fucking bad that it aches; his cock is leaking clear precum eagerly and the amount of slick that’s wetting the bed is obscene for an Omega so far out of heat.

Kenta dips his mouth to Kabo’s chest. He kisses his sternum, trailing towards a perky nipple. His tongue is so fucking warm over the bud that Kabo jerks in the bed, whimpering.

“Please,” he says again, lifting his legs to rest against Kenta’s hips. He tries a real Omegan whimper, a sharp whining trill, but it doesn’t do jackshit to pull Kenta from the fun he’s having with Kabo’s nipple. The fact that it doesn’t work is upsetting in an instinctual way, and he knows in his head that it isn’t because he’s being denied, but his heart stutters, his breath catching. “Please,” he begs quieter, his voice wet.

Kenta glances up and then quickly shifts to reach his mouth, kissing an apology. “Kabo, don’t cry, hey.”

Kabo rubs at his eyes with the back of a hand. “You don’t have to fuck me,” he says, crying. “But tell me if it’s a no right now, please, I can’t- I’m getting overwhelmed,” he admits.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Kenta murmurs. “I was just teasing; I’m right here.” He shifts, reaching a hand down to line himself up. “Are you, uhm. Should I just-”

Kabo nods frantically. “Kenta, please,” he begs again. He’s wet enough; he’s ready enough, and fuck, he wants to feel what this is like so fucking bad.

Kenta pulls in a nervous breath and then just goes for it, rocking forward. “Oh, fuck,” he exhales. “You’re really wet, baby.”

Baby… Kabo’s hated pet names but from Kenta’s mouth it tastes different. And his cock, too, slowly filling him, settling him, thrusting carefully as Kenta gets used to how this feels. Kenta pants above him, eyes half-lidded with concentration, and Kabocha’s chest rumbles with a loud, honest purr.

The noise startles Kenta and then makes him laugh, which makes Kabo laugh, and for a moment they kiss again, still and simply enjoying this moment.

Things are changing- lots of things are changing- but this is a good change.

Finally Kabo is sick of waiting again and rolls his hips upward, encouraging his best friend and his new lover. Kenta falls over his chest, getting comfortable, finding a good position and angle, and Kabo clings to his shoulders as he starts thrusting for real.

It’s stuttered and nervous but it’s so fucking good- this is what he’s been missing this whole time. This feeling of… of euphoria. It’s so much more than he ever expected and Kabo feels light-headed.

He cums almost immediately untouched, spilling pale Omega cum over his stomach.

Kenta pauses, moaning at the new feeling of Kabo’s ass clenching hard against. “Fuck, baby.”

Kabo tries to breathe and it takes him a moment to come down from the high of his very sudden orgasm. He tries to move his hands, but, uh-

Kenta laughs, burying his face into Kabo’s hair. “Are you fucking stuck to me right now?”

“Uh-huh,” Kabo answers distantly.

“So I’m doing okay, then?”

“So okay.”

“Keep going?”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Kabo warns. He can’t peel his palms from Kenta’s back but he doesn’t have to.

Kenta kisses his cheek, his nose, his mouth, and then he starts moving again. He’s much more confident now, his rhythm better. He pants soft noises that Kabo swears he’s never going to forget.

Kabo cums again, and tears roll across his cheeks. “I love you,” he gasps. It feels unfair to be able to say it so easily when he’s only just realized the truth of it, but he says it again. “Love you, Kenta, fuck.”

Kenta groans a loud noise and his hips pause, stuttering, and Kabo can’t help but cum a third fuckign time as he feels Kenta finish too, this third time almost painful but so fucking good- so amazing- he’s really crying and Kenta tries to kiss the tears away as he rolls through his own orgasm.

“Kabocha,” Kenta murmurs, slouching forward and still. He pulls Kabo close, still tied to him by strong rock. “I love you,” he says, “this is the best fucking day of my whole life.”

Kabo’s got no words to say but he purrs loudly, grunts wetly from the back of his throat. The room smells like him but it smells like Kenta too, in a way, like sweat and sex, and that’s comforting.

“I love you,” Kenta repeats, staring down at him. Kabo tries to meet his gaze, exhausted. “Love you,” Kenta says, and then he kisses him so fucking soft.