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Shouto knows he shouldn’t.
He knows, but he climbs the mountain anyway. After all, he is to be married off. Or so he’s heard both maids and noble ladies whispering in the castle hallways, at least, and he’s spent his whole life so painfully aware of everything that he shouldn’t do, that—
Well, maybe he’s being selfish.
But even in a kingdom as cruel as this one, they let war prisoners have one final wish.
And—
And it’s not like Shouto knows what he’s looking for. He just knows he’s looking. Ever since he was a child, he’s been looking for something. For someone, maybe. Someone brave enough to rescue him, like those knights in shining armor in the bedtime stories Fuyumi used to read for him. For someone to swoop in and carry him away from the melancholy of palace life.
But they never did.
And then Touya-nii went off on that military campaign only to never return, and the king’s temper only got more volatile, and—
And Shouto has no doubts that whoever he’s been promised to won’t be any kinder. Of course not. Not if the king finds it a favorable union.
So he climbs the mountain.
Nee-san used to tell him stories of how dragons liked shiny things.
And Shouto would listen, and he would fall asleep to them, and he’d dream of offering up all the gold in their kingdom just so the dragon agreed to bring him along. And they could fly away together. Somewhere far, far away.
Because that’s how childhood dreams go.
A gentle breeze sweeps you away just before the tempest. Your mother tucks you in good night. The big, scary dragon turns out to be not-so-big and not-so-scary.
But—
The one Shouto stumbles across on his trek is big, at least.
He isn’t all dragon, though. He’s got the scales. And the horns on top of his head. And these vertical slits in his red eyes.
Eyes that narrow at the sight of Shouto.
Because, otherwise, barring the patches of scales that run up his arms and down his chest, he looks to be mostly... human?
“I’ve come to seek an audience with you,” Shouto says. He bites the inside of his cheek. “If you’ll allow me a moment of your time.”
“Oh,” the dragon says, “you can have as much of it as you want, little prince. For the right price.”
His eyes glimmer like rubies.
Shouto swallows. “And what might that be?” he asks. “All the gold in my kingdom?”
(Wouldn’t that be a convenient little fairytale come true?)
The dragon laughs. “I have no use for human riches,” he says. “But I do have use for humans. Especially soft and pretty ones like you.”
Shouto’s face flushes with heat. “Pretty?” he repeats. “Me?”
The dragon steps closer. “Yes,” he says firmly. “You.”
And then—
A thick, scaly tail wraps around Shouto’s waist, tugs him in closecloseclose. “Oh,” Shouto whispers. “You’re so warm.”
Because he is. Shouto braces himself, palms flat against the dragon’s broad (bare) chest and more heat pricks at his cheeks, and—
And he realizes, just like that, that it’s the warmest he’s ever felt.
“I come from fire,” the dragon says. “I was made from it. You know something about fire too, don’t you? I can feel it.”
“It’s my father’s magic,” Shouto whispers. “I used to be rather unfond of it.”
“Yeah?” the dragon asks, cupping Shouto’s cheek to tip his face up into the moonlight with a rough, scaly hand. “Think we could change your mind, princess?”
Shouto almost wants to lean into it. Which is—it’s unwise, isn’t it? The dragon could eat him. Dragons eat humans, don’t they? Or—they very well could if they wanted to?
“Um,” Shouto says. “What’s your name? What do I call you?”
(Maybe dragons don’t eat humans they’ve been formally introduced to?)
The dragon’s thumb strokes his cheekbone. “It’s Katsuki,” he says. “You can call me Katsuki.”
“Katsuki,” Shouto repeats. “That’s a nice name.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki asks. “What do I get for it?”
Shouto laughs. “I thought I was the one who came to barter?” he says. “I just—I don’t want to get married, Katsuki. Is that bad? I know I’m a prince. I know I have a duty to my kingdom, but—but what about me? I want to see the world. I, uh, I used to dream I could fly, when I was a kid.”
“You want me to take you?” Katsuki asks.
Shouto blinks. “Flying?”
“Sure,” Katsuki says. “Why not? I can fly just fine.”
Shouto bites at the inside of his cheek. “Um,” he says. “What would I owe you? For that?”
“How about we start with the pleasure of your company?” Katsuki says. “And then we’ll go from there?”
“You’re—rather polite for a dragon,” Shouto says. “I thought you’d eat me.”
Katsuki laughs. “We’ll see,” he says. “I could still eat you.”
But he’s so warm, and he’s holding Shouto so carefully even with those rough hands and big arms of his, and—
“It’s okay,” Shouto whispers. “You can eat me if you want. I don’t mind.”
It’s certainly a better fate than the one that awaits him back at the palace, even if he does end up in a dragon’s belly.
“Mind your words,” Katsuki says, but it barely sounds like admonishment in the first place. “One could misconstrue them, your highness.”
“Yes.” Shouto nods. “One could. But I’m sure an honorable dragon such as yourself wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Brat,” Katsuki laughs. “You’re spoiled, aren’t you?”
Shouto shakes his head. “No,” he says, “but I’m most certainly open to becoming.”
And Katsuki—
Katsuki pulls back, and flicks Shouto right in the middle of the forehead.
“Ouch,” Shouto whines.
...
He decides to stay the night. The king won’t send men after him this quickly, and going back down the mountain on his own seems rather fruitless. Besides (most importantly) Katsuki is warm.
And he said they’d go flying in the morning.
So Shouto could see it.
And, for tonight, they’re—
Well. Maybe Shouto failed to consider this part. Because—
“Together?” he says, cheeks flushed. “You want to sleep? Together?”
Katsuki gives him this self-satisfied look. Although—it’s more like a long, lingering glance, one he drags indulgently from Shouto’s feet to the top of his head.
“You’ll need to keep warm through the night,” he says. “I’m pretty convenient for that.”
“I could probably manage on my own,” Shouto points out. “I know I’m no match for dragon fire, but I can at least look after myself.”
“Hey, princess,” Katsuki says, “I thought you said you were going to let me spoil you?”
Well. He did say that. Even if he meant—
“That was because of the swoopy thing,” Shouto blurts. “I didn’t—”
“The swoopy thing?” Katsuki asks, an eyebrow arched.
Shouto flushes. “You were touching me,” he says. “And your hands were warm. And my belly clenched. And I wanted—”
“Well,” Katsuki says, stretching languidly, “I could help you with that, too.”
He looks like a boy, like this. Like a man. Like those alphas who show off during sword practice at the palace. Not that Shouto has ever been allowed to look, but—well. He is an omega. He got curious. So he might have sneaked into the training grounds once or twice.
He didn’t care much for the palace alphas, though.
But Katsuki is different.
He’s—
“My father would have your head if he heard you talking like that,” Shouto says. “I, um, actually get checks from the palace doctor. After every heat. To make sure my—my virtue remains untampered with. It’s important for omegas, you know.”
(It’s important for the king, at least.)
“That’s fucking awful,” Katsuki says. “You’re not a slab of meat.”
Shouto shrugs. “I might as well be,” he says. “Omegas have no claim to the throne. They’re only good for bearing heirs. And I can’t do that, obviously, so—I’m pretty much good for nothing unless I remain untouched.”
“What if that’s what I want?” Katsuki asks. “Then what? Are you still offering, little prince?”
Oh, Shouto thinks, he wants—
Heat floods his cheeks. Even more heat swirls low in his belly. “I’m in no place to refuse,” he says. And then, at the deepening furrow between Katsuki’s eyebrows, “Not that I would want to, either way.”
They’ve only just met.
But it feels like Shouto has been dreaming of Katsuki forever.
“And if I want to keep you?” Katsuki asks. “Then what? Would you stay?”
Shouto nods. “I would,” he whispers. “I just—what use would you have for me? I have no housekeeping skills to speak of, and—and I know I told you I wasn’t spoiled, but while the king might hardly be forthcoming with affection, I’ve never had to—I don’t know the life of a commoner omega. And I, um, certainly don’t know anything about how you please an alpha.”
“Do I look like an alpha to you, sweetheart?” Katsuki huffs. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t offend me.”
“Oh,” Shouto says. “I’m sorry.”
He gathers the courage to step closer carefully, and, once he’s standing right in front of Katsuki, he leans up on the tips of his toes and presses a kiss high on his cheek, right over a small patch of dragon scales.
They tickle. A little.
Katsuki’s tail snakes around his waist again. Except that, this time, it’s a tighter grip. “Here,” he says. “Like this, little prince. I can teach you.”
And he tips Shouto’s chin up, and—
Shouto’s belly flutters some more, and something distinctly lower clenches hard.
Katsuki’s mouth is warm. Katsuki is warm. And Shouto can do nothing except hold on and let Katsuki part his lips to slip his tongue past them, and then—
“Oh,” Shouto says, flushed. “It’s split. Your, um, your tongue, I mean.”
Katsuki laughs at him. “Too much?” he says, wiping spit from Shouto’s bottom lip with his thumb. “We could just go to sleep. I can make you a bed. Dragon magic is useful like that.”
“Will you get in the bed?” Shouto asks. “With me?”
Katsuki’s den is mostly solid rock, yes, but it does feel comfortable. It’s warmly lit, and spacious, and—and Shouto could picture right where a bed would go, a big one, like the one he uses at the palace, and—
And he wants Katsuki to get in that bed with him.
“Depends,” Katsuki says. “Do you want me to?”
Shouto nods. “I really do,” he says. “Is that bad?”
“It’s not bad,” Katsuki says. “Not at all. Just—I’m not sure I can hold back. Is that alright with you, princess?”
“Hold back?” Shouto blinks. “From doing what?”
Surely, he doesn’t mean—
Shouto already offered himself up. So why would Katsuki have to hold back from that? He’s a dragon, isn’t he? Do the sensibilities of puny little humans truly matter so much to him?
(Or is it maybe just Shouto’s sensibilities?)
“From popping your cherry on a nice, soft bed, your highness.”
“Oh,” says Shouto.
“Yes,” Katsuki says. “Oh indeed.”
Shouto swats at his chest. “Don’t make fun of me,” he whines. “I want the bed. And—and I want you.”
“Say that again, sweetheart.”
“I want you. On a bed. A soft bed. And then you can teach me. Is that, um, okay?”
“Close your eyes,” Katsuki says.
And then it’s warmwarmwarm again.
...
The bed is soft.
Katsuki laughs when Shouto bounces a little to test it.
“Why didn’t you have a bed?” he asks. “Before, I mean. You look very human, like this.”
“I don’t sleep like this,” Katsuki says. “It’s just easier to walk around the mountains than it is as a giant dragon. Scares the animals. You know.”
Shouto smiles, can’t help it. “You like animals?”
“Mm,” Katsuki says. “Do you?”
“I like cats,” Shouto says. “They’re soft.”
“You know,” Katsuki says, “you remind me of a cat.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. Are you going to scratch, princess?”
Shouto’s cheeks flush. “I didn’t plan on it,” he says. “But I might change my mind.”
Katsuki huffs out a laugh. “My bad,” he says. “I’ll be nice, okay?”
Shouto considers it. “But not too nice?” he says. “Right?”
And—
Katsuki’s gaze goes dark. “Alright,” he says. “Not too nice.”
“Will you kiss me again?” Shouto blurts. “I want you to kiss me again.”
“Do spoiled princes ever say please?” Katsuki asks. “Or do I have to teach you that as well, your highness?”
“Please,” Shouto says, stumbling forward, landing half in Katsuki’s lap. “Please, I want—”
But he doesn’t get to beg or plead any more than that, because Katsuki tugs him close, and then Shouto is straddling him, and he took off his pants and shoes before getting on the bed because he didn’t want to get dirt on it, and—and he’s only wearing his shirt, and it’s barely long enough to reach past his thighs, and he can feel the heat of Katsuki’s body, covered by precisely nothing besides the leather around his waist, and—and—
And he’s never felt this aware of what it means to be an omega.
Katsuki kisses him. And then he kisses him again. Slow, soft, purposeful glides of his lips against Shouto’s, until Shouto is trying uselessly to press his thighs together and just ends up wiggling around in Katsuki’s lap instead, settling into a steady rhythm and letting out soft, needy little ahs against his mouth.
He’s panting.
He’s chasing the friction against Katsuki’s thigh, the patches of scales rough pressed to the fabric of his underwear, nudging his clit through the cotton.
“More,” Shouto whines. “Will you—more, pretty please?”
“Want me to put my fingers in you?” Katsuki asks. “Put my tongue in you? Get you loose and open and dripping so you can fit more after that?”
“Mm,” Shouto says. “Please.”
“That easy?” Katsuki teases. “What about your virtue, princess?”
“You can have it,” Shouto says. “I don’t want it anymore. I don’t—ah, I don’t have any use for it.”
“And then?”
“And then you keep me. You, ah, said so yourself.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “I did. Do you know how dragons keep things?”
“Forever?” Shouto says hopefully. Desperately. Pathetically. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He just wants— “Do you keep them forever?”
“I could,” Katsuki says. “I could keep you forever. If that’s what you want.”
“Yes,” Shouto says, “please.”
And then—
And then Katsuki’s bigroughwarm hand slides between their bodies just to rub at Shouto’s clit, and he’s holding Shouto by the waist, keeping him still, and he pushes the cotton of his panties aside, and then—
It’s so wet.
Shouto is so wet.
“Ah,” he says, pussy clenching and squeezing around nothing. “Mean.”
He’s never come so hard in his life. Straddling his pillows and steadily moving his thighs against them in the haze of a heat doesn’t compare. It doesn’t even come close. It can’t. Because Katsuki—Katsuki barely touched him, and Shouto already feels like someone lit a match against his tailbone.
“Feel good?” he asks. “Does your sweet little cunt feel good because of me?”
Shouto nods. He’s purring. Oh, dear heavens, he’s—
“Feels good,” he slurs. “Feels so good. Will you fuck me now? Will you—knot? Please?”
“I don’t have one of those.” Katsuki laughs. He pulls Shouto close. Presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead. “But maybe I can still satisfy you. Needy thing.”
And he pulls back, and he unbuckles that flimsy bit of leather, and—
“Oh,” says Shouto. “There’s... more than one.”
He’s so wrung out from the pleasure, still, that for a second, he wonders if his mind and whatever shameful little wants lurk in the corners are playing tricks on him, and then he blinks, and he blinks again, and he realizes that what he’s seeing must be what’s really there.
Katsuki has two cocks.
Right there. Right in front of him, stacked on top of each other.
Carefully, Shouto reaches out to touch, wraps a hand around one of them. “Warm,” he says, his own cheeks pinkpinkpink. “Pretty, too. The, um, alpha anatomy diagrams hardly looked appealing, you know.”
“Poor little prince,” Katsuki coos. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You won’t need an alpha when I’m through.”
(Shouto hopes so. His clit twitches. Slick wets his thighs. He really, really hopes so.)
...
Katsuki fucks him open on his fingers.
He lays Shouto out on the bed, and he plays with him so much Shouto loses track of the pleasure, of when it peaks and when it wanes. All he knows is that it feels good. All of it does. Katsuki touching him. Katsuki holding him. Katsuki whispering filth in his ear about how well he takes him.
Katsuki finally, finally, finally, pressing the tip of a cock to Shouto’s stretched pussy.
That’s probably the best part.
“Ah,” Shouto whines. “Big. I can, uh, feel the ridges inside.”
“Think you can take both?” Katsuki asks. “I want to see. I want to see your belly round from it.”
“Mm,” Shouto says. “I can do it. I'm a good omega.”
It’s undoubtedly more than the stretch of a knot, and Shouto has never even taken that much before, but he wants to do it.
(It’s for Katsuki, so of course he does.)
“Of course you are,” Katsuki says. “You’re the best.”
And he slips a finger in alongside his cock, and then another, and then a third until just the stretch and the slightest twist has Shouto clenching down hard and gasping through more pleasure and want and it’s all so overwhelming that tears slip down his puffy, red cheeks, and slick gushes out where Katsuki is still stretching him.
“Fuck,” he says, “look at the mess you made.”
But he sounds pleased.
He tugs his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth greedily, split tongue darting out to lick them clean.
“I’m sorry,” Shouto says. “I’m sorry, I really tried—”
“You’re perfect,” Katsuki says. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine.”
And then he grabs Shouto by the hips and teases where he’s stretched and loose with the tip of his other cock, and he guides him down, and Shouto—Shouto takes it.
“Oh,” he says, awed. “You’re all in me.”
Katsuki fucks him like that, each slide nudging him deep inside and stretching him out, keeping him so full, with no recourse but to stay there like a good omega and take it, take it all, take Katsuki making a home for himself inside Shouto’s willing body.
Because he is willing.
God, does he want—
“Harder,” Shouto whines, nails digging into Katsuki's shoulder blades. “Put it in my womb.”
Impossibly, the next thrust reaches deeper than the last, and something—one of Katsuki’s cocks, God—pushes past that final bit of resistance, and then Shouto feels warmth filling him up, flooding him from the inside.
“Mm,” Shouto says, pleased, slumping against Katsuki. “Now it feels warm enough. Thank you.”
“Spoiled,” Katsuki huffs. “Spoiled little brat.”
“Yours,” Shouto amends. “I thought dragons liked treasure. My sister used to tell me stories like that all the time. I probably dreamed about you. Isn’t that, ah, romantic? Don’t you think?”
He’s rambling. He’s rambling and he’s tired and Katsuki is warmwarmwarm, and—
“Will you keep me?” Shouto whispers. “You said you would. I don’t want to go home. I'll just—I’ll stay here and be a good wife for you, I promise. Okay?”
“Okay,” Katsuki says. “Anything you want.”
And then, softer, just as Shouto is drifting off, “You’re better than all the treasures of this world, princess.”
Which, Shouto supposes, is pretty sweet. And he would say as much out loud, but Katsuki is warm, and the trek up the mountain wore him out even before Katsuki did, so now he just. Lays his head on Katsuki’s shoulder, and lets him take care of him.
It’s not too bad.
Far from it.
...
Come morning, Shouto wakes up sore.
Like—
Really, really sore.
Katsuki faces his wrath (okay, pouting, it’s mostly pouting) with fresh fruit for breakfast that he apparently went and gathered while Shouto was sleeping (which does incur more pouting about being left alone, but Katsuki deftly solves that with a kiss), and then Shouto gets him to cuddle as an apology.
And then, after a little bit, Katsuki says, “I never figured I’d find a mate for myself, you know. And then you showed up. Came and found me instead. Stubborn human.”
“Yours,” Shouto says. “That’s the important part, isn’t it?”
“Mm,” Katsuki agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of Shouto’s head. “My spoiled little treasure.”
Yes, Shouto decides, big, scary dragons who live in the mountains aren’t so bad.
(Well, he doesn’t know that many, but the one he does know is pretty nice. He’s warm. Shouto should give him pups. To say thank you. For the fruit. And the cuddling.
Or something like that.)