Chapter Text
The grip on Bakugou’s hands tightened, the alpha’s chest clenching along with it as the omega interlocked their fingers.
Such things, technically speaking, were not allowed. Izuku was first and foremost a prince—an omega one at that—and Bakugou was simply a knight. For their fingers to be intertwined in such a way was a testament to how openly friendly Izuku was around any and all help around the palace.
He was chastised for it constantly. Sometimes, Bakugou wished the prince would have more restraint. Sometimes, he wished the prince would lose any and all inhibition instead.
Especially so when he looked at him with those large, naive eyes, batting his lashes in a way only an omega could. “Come,” he said, with the ease of someone who’d never been denied anything. “I wish to speak to my knight freely.”
My knight. The sound of those words alone could have lulled Bakugou into a pleasant dream. Would no doubt be fodder for those endless nights he stood out on patrol.
The prince led him out to the gardens, which was not too far of a walk, but enough to have Bakugou wondering how the prince managed to get anywhere in those heeled boots of his. Male omega fashion had taken quite a turn the last few years.
These days, Izuku always wore long, ivy skirts behind his pants that trailed behind him as he walked. Dresses were almost uniquely reserved to women, but the half skirt resembled a sort of train that evoked the look of a cape, marking Izuku’s stance in society. His skirt-pants were always embellished, either by laces or embroidery, the detail of the fabrics so grand it often reminded Bakugou of a peacock strictly in the regal sense. His collars were equally as grand, adorned in jewels and indicative of just how much wealth the royal family had. Whenever Izuku walked past, one couldn’t help but stare. He captured the attention of all in the room, and that was all without even taking his pheromones into account.
If the prince’s pheromones were not being suppressed, there was simply no telling how many countries might fall to his feet, how many alphas would bend at the knee to follow Izuku’s will.
Because Bakugou had smelled those pheromones once.
One single, simple time where the entire world fell to nothing, and that was all Bakugou needed. All he would ever need.
But even without scent, there was nothing Bakugou wouldn’t do for him. If one day Bakugou should ever smell the prince’s pheromones again, he was sure he’d become nothing more than a desperate dog at the heels of his master.
Sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t already in such a position.
Of course, it was rather impossible not to be, not when his prince looked at him the way he did, eyes wide and hopeful and smile still so honest.
Bakugou wanted to protect it. That innocence.
They reached the wisteria tree that they usually sat under, and Prince Izuku pulled Bakugou beneath it, tugging at the alpha’s arm rather harshly.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Bakugou did so immediately.
The prince watched the motion, scrunching up his features and then cocking his head. “Actually, won’t you stand for a moment?”
Bakugou stood.
Izuku furrowed his brow, crossing his arms in distaste. “Kneel.”
Bakugou did as requested, resting an arm on his propped knee and dropping his head in respect. Izuku sighed, seemingly unsatisfied. He knelt down himself, peering under Bakugou’s bowed head and pursing his lips out in a pout. “Would you do anything you’re told?”
“Provided you’re the one telling me, Your Highness.”
It was enough to make the prince scrunch up his nose, pressing against his knees to stand again. “I don’t believe you in the slightest. I’ve already asked several times to stop addressing me in so formal a manner.” Then, a bit more softly, “Haven’t I, Kacchan?”
Kacchan. That blessed name that existed only between them two. Bakugou lifted his head, his chest tightening as his eyes met the prince’s. “I’ll do anything you ever ask of me, Deku.”
Deku. Because his prince was capable of anything. Because he made Bakugou capable of anything.
The prince smiled, plopping down on the ground, his skirt claiming the majority of the grass. “That’s better,” he praised. “Now you sound a bit more like you. You’ve looked so terribly crestfallen since this morning.”
Bakugou stepped out of his kneeling posture, taking his place to sit next to his prince. He knew better by now than to offer his cape for Izuku to sit on. The prince always refused. Bakugou resented it only slightly. Because although there’d be no pheromones left behind, there would still be that subtle scent of the fruity perfume the prince wore, and something that was distinctly Deku. And Bakugou would have enjoyed drowning in that quiet comfort before bed.
But it was better this way. Their positions dictated he not get too carried away.
“I failed in my one duty to you. I let the thief get away—”
“But they’re out there searching for him now!”
They’d been out for a stroll. The prince enjoyed those. It was one of the few liberties he was provided by the king. Some charlatan approached them, took some of the jewels right off of Izuku’s hands under the guise of a magic trick and then took off.
Bakugou would have to train more. For some vagrant to get away with something so simple—it was shameful, both for himself and as a reflection of the royal family. The only reason he didn’t chase the bastard himself was because as Izuku’s personal knight, Bakugou was entrusted with the prince’s well-being And that meant getting Izuku back behind the safety of the palace walls.
"He’ll be brought to justice,” the prince encouraged. “You’ll see. And since no harm came to either one of us—”
Bakugou caught those slender fingers between his own, allowed only because of the gloves he wore, and under the premise of checking his prince’s wounds. As much as Bakugou’s blood boiled knowing the prince had gotten hurt, selfish delight coiled in his stomach at the opportunity to touch the prince’s fingers. The sparks that shot up his arms soured only when Bakugou’s more grounded part of his head reminded him that the prince’s fingertips through gloved hands was already far more than Bakugou would ever be allowed.
It killed him.
“He bruised you here,” Bakugou pointed out, carefully turning Izuku’s wrists over.
The hand he held trembled slightly, those big green eyes seeming to pierce right through him. “You notice everything, don’t you Kacchan?” Izuku whispered, as if it were a secret, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, and Bakugou couldn’t bear it any longer, broke from the prince’s gaze to stare back down at those fragile wrists again. “You’re pale so you mark easily,” he finished. “As your knight, I should have been faster.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong!” Izuku was quick to interrupt, holding onto the alpha’s hand. “If it weren’t for you who knows what would have happened! Surely much worse than a simple bruise! It’s because of you that I’m almost entirely unharmed!”
Bakugou gave a brief nod of his head, though the shame still racked at his chest. “I’m humbled by your praise, Your Highness.”
Izuku’s cheeks puffed out. “Kacchan,” he chastised. “What did I just say?”
The alpha smiled. In truth, he enjoyed when the prince was flustered like this. So perhaps he’d said it on purpose. “Forgive me, Deku. You’re simply so easy to tease.”
Teasing the crown prince was not technically allowed in any strict sense. But Izuku was not strict, seemed to enjoy it even, and given the fact that Bakugou was denied and deprived of nearly everything else, he decided to indulge in quick moments like these.
“Well…if you’re smiling, then I’ll forgive you,” the prince said, going so far as to bump his shoulder against the alpha’s. “But enough about that. Have you spoken to my father recently?”
People didn’t exactly speak to the king. They were spoken to by the king, which was a world of difference. Midoriya Tomoe wasn’t exactly the type of man that invited conversation.
“Your father doesn’t feel the need to tell me much,” Bakugou replied honestly.
The prince brought his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. He was always terribly adorable when he did that. “He’s seems excited for my birthday.”
The dread of Izuku’s impending birthday was the source of all of Bakugou’s misery. In just a few short months he’d succumb to watching his prince be courted, married and then mated, shipped off to some foreign land where Bakugou could never hope to reach him ever again.
If Bakugou could kidnap Izuku and keep him to himself he would. But he could never bring himself to deny Izuku of the comfortable life he’d always known. Izuku wasn’t meant to live a life of hiding and poverty and scraping every last resource together merely to make it to the next sunrise.
Izuku was born for a life of indulgence. It was what Bakugou wanted him to have.
And yet there was that rage that filled him every time he looked upon the prince’s neck. Soon enough, that lavish collar would be replaced with some foreign alpha’s bite. And then Izuku would truly be lost to him forever.
His misery quelled, however, when Bakugou noticed the trembling quiver of the omega’s bottom lip, that fear behind those green eyes that he did not do well in hiding, and the nervous shifting from where he was sitting.
“Are you not?” Bakugou asked, genuinely curious.
“To get sold off to the alpha with the highest bid and leave everything I’ve ever known behind? Not exactly, no.”
For a moment, Bakugou said nothing, which triggered the prince into a panic. “That is—! Of course I’m grateful! And honored! I’ll finally be accomplishing my duty of course. And the opportunity to help unite kingdoms with another royal family is certainly advantageous. You know, it’s said that because most royals tend to be alphas there’s a shortage of omega nobility and so a kingdom like ours has a bit more of an advantage, and we could seek to gain even more resources for our people which I would be so happy to be able to—”
The prince would do this often. Though he was quite eloquent in front of a crowd, it had taken him years of lessons to curb the habit of blabber, and when he was behind closed doors, often defaulted in that overly excited and convoluted manner of speaking.
“Deku,” Bakugou interrupted, in an effort to put him a bit more at ease. “Are you nervous?”
The omega inhaled, shoulders rising up with tension before he let them fall, eyes cast slightly downwards as he hugged his knees to his chest once more.
“I only…whoever they end up being…I hope they’ll be kind.”
“I’m sure your father will take your preference into consideration.”
It was more than just lip service. The king valued his son more than anything. Went through great lengths to ensure Izuku’s happiness. No one knew it better than Bakugou.
“Do you think,” Izuku said, “if I asked, he’d let you come with me?”
Bakugou willed his heart to cease. Izuku was only asking because Bakugou was familiar. And when placed in new situations, people craved familiarity. That was all Bakugou would ever be to Izuku.
All he ever could be.
“If you wish it,” he placated.
Izuku scoffed, tugging at some of the grass around them. “Don’t say that, Kacchan. You’d come with me, and stay a knight forever? Think of your place in society. I’m sure father has plans to make you a baron soon.”
He’d heard whispers of it. With Izuku gone, there’d be no need for a personal knight anymore. It wasn’t unheard of, for the king to grant titles in gratitude. Bakugou had certainly served enough time.
“I’ve never had an interest in titles.”
“You’re either lying or an absolute fool. But I appreciate you saying it nonetheless.” He stared off into the garden, with many more words still hanging on his tongue, Bakugou knew, but he kept them tied up behind pursed lips.
“Do you not wish to wed?” Bakugou pried, hoping to hear just a little more about it. For some reason, the prince’s hesitation set his heart beating out of his chest.
Izuku’s cheeks reddened. “Can I…can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
He looked down for a moment, as though he were silently summoning his courage. “It’s daunting, marriage. It’s all so grand and so serious and I…well, it will all happen with a complete stranger, won’t it?”
“You’ll be courted properly,” Bakugou reminded, hoping his words would help put the omega at ease and yet wishing they wouldn’t.
“Y-Yes but it’s all in so short a time! And then there’s the issue with my heat—” Izuku began but then stopped himself abruptly, going even redder in the face, shaking his head and speaking quickly to cover it up, that panicked voice high and a little shaky. “No well, that doesn’t—w-what about you, Kacchan? Have you thought about it? Marriage?”
Those green eyes looked at him like they were expecting something. Like they were hoping for something. If only Bakugou knew what that something was. If only he could give it to him.
“My profession is not suited for a mate,” he replied simply. “Nor do I find myself enthralled with any omegas.”
That aren’t you, his thoughts finished for him. He tried to clip them when they arose. He really did. But lately, such things were getting more and more difficult.
“I see,” Izuku said. “How noble of you.”
“I’m often told it’s selfish.”
“You’re the least selfish person I know.”
“That’s because you don’t know very many people, Your Highness.”
The prince’s expression soured, and in all honesty Bakugou only said it because he was hoping for that precise reaction.
“Deku,” he corrected, lest the prince fall into a stupor. “You don’t know very many people, Deku.”
The sour expression softened, the prince resting his cheeks in his palms.
“Well that’s hardly my fault,” he said. “Besides, I’ll be meeting a whole swarm of people soon. Probably more than I could ever hope to…” His voice trailed off, and concern washed over his features, the prince leaning in so close that Bakugou instinctively pulled back.
That was dangerous.
Their faces should never be so close. Bakugou wasn’t sure he’d trust himself.
“Don’t move,” Izuku said gently, bringing his hand to Bakugou’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. The prince’s brows furrowed, eyes now sharp as knives. Out of all the expressions Izuku wore, Bakugou hated this one the most. “You’re hurt again,” he accused.
Bakugou had forgotten about it, his own hand going up to his forehead as if to confirm it. The bump of a forming scab a reminder of the previous morning. “This is only from training,” he explained. “I could use more of it, considering all that happened today.”
“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself to such lengths.”
“A knight without scars is a shameful one.”
“But you have such handsome features. I hate to see you hurt.”
Bakugou blinked, the compliment filling his ears like rushing water, loud and sudden and uncontrollable. “Do you find me handsome, Your Highness?”
Red rose in the prince’s cheeks as he quickly shook his head, his mouth hanging openly aghast. “Th-That’s not what I—I-It would simply be a shame, to your future mate—!”
He wasn’t allowed to finish, one of the other guards from patrol coming up to them, bowing as he came in view of the prince.
“Sir,” he declared, speaking directly to Bakugou. “They’ve captured him.”
As much as Bakugou wanted to hear more of what the prince had to say, this took precedence. That thief had taken more than just some useless jewels. They’d robbed Izuku of his sense of safety. And that was something Bakugou would never forgive. He stood, giving a brief bow of dismissal towards his prince. “I’ll be right there,” he told the guard.
“Oh!” Izuku tugged at his cape, stopping him, providing himself with enough time to stand as well. “Could I go with you? Please?”
“He’s in the dungeons,” the attendant informed, denying the prince as indirectly as he could manage.
Bakugou turned to Izuku, because he was of higher rank, and could speak just a little more freely. “It’d be best for you to stay here, Highness. The dungeon is—”
“I don’t know how anyone expects me to actually grow into my crown if I continue to be shielded from every little thing. I think I can handle seeing a man in a jail cell!”
Bakugou exchanged a look with the guard, before sighing and yielding.
“Very well,” he agreed.
If the king found out about it, it’d be Bakugou’s head.
They entered the dungeons, the stairs leading to the underground dark and wet and unpleasant. Bakugou didn’t like the thought of Izuku stepping foot in such a place, let alone wanting to.
Another guard stood at the cell door, holding out a small leather satchel.
“He was found with these,” the cell-guard informed, revealing several of Izuku’s rings that resided in the satchel.
“What will become of him?” The prince asked the guard, and Bakugou had to bite back the instinct to growl. Such questions should be directed at him. He was the prince’s knight, after all.
“The typical sentence is beheading,” the guard replied easily. “You could have been hurt or worse, Your Highness.”
Izuku seemed shocked at that, blinking incredulously as he stepped off to the side to get a better look at the prisoner. Not something he should have done, but it wasn’t Bakugou’s place to give the prince orders. The best he could do was provide subtle suggestions.
Licking his lips, Izuku clutched at the fabric of his skirt-pants. “Why did you steal?” He asked the man. “Were you hungry?”
The prisoner made a show of gargling his throat before spitting through the bars. By mere chance alone, the spit managed to not reach the prince. If even so much as a speck had gotten on Izuku’s person, Bakugou would have reached through the bars and killed him right then and there.
Izuku turned to Bakugou and the guards. “Can it be changed to a banishment?”
Both soldiers looked at Bakugou, the three of them all exchanging a look. “That’s not typical…” The cell guard began.
“But it’s at my request.” Izuku said. “No—“ he shook his head, gripping at his skirts, an incredibly subtle but anxious scent wafting from him. “My order, as the crown prince. I wish to have him banished instead.”
That was just like Izuku. To always be concerned for others even when they’d done him harm. It was precisely why he needed someone like Bakugou by his side.
Someone who would bear the blood on his hands so that Izuku’s could remain clean.
The soldiers pursed their lips. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Bakugou nudged at Izuku, bowing his head in show of respect, because there were other guards present. “Our kingdom thrives on your compassion, Your Highness. Please feel free to retire back up to the gardens. I’ll ensure the rest is taken care of.”
Prince Izuku exhaled, that momentary anxious scent dispelling, his small fists unclenching from his royal skirt-pants. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I leave it in your capable hands, Bakugou-san.” He took one final look at the prisoner, pity framing those green eyes, because that was simply the type of person his prince was. “I hope you learn something from this,” he told the prisoner, before nodding at all three soldiers and then ascending up the staircase back where he belonged.
The dungeon was no place for a prince.
As soon as the door shut, Bakugou dismissed the other two guards, who were quick to ask if a banishment would indeed take place.
“I’ll see it through personally,” Bakugou ensured, which they all seemed to understand well enough, before also vacating the dungeons. Bakugou preferred doing these things alone.
As soon as there was no one else in the underground, he removed his cape, hanging it on the wall so that he could undo the sash that contained the royal family’s crest. Next came his gloves, which also held the royal emblem, and the tiny brooch that clung to his shirt collar. Once those were no longer on his person, he unsheathed his sword, stepping forward to unlock the bars.
The prisoner scoffed. “You tryna scare me or something? You can’t kill me. By order of your precious prince.”
“There are things worse than death,” Bakugou informed, feeling a rush in his fingertips as he turned the key. “But I don’t have the time for that, right now."
The incredulous scoff turned into a nervous bit of laughter. “My sentence was banishment. Your kind can’t disobey a direct order! They’ll have you hanged—!”
“My most supreme order,” Bakugou explained calmly, taking his time in opening the cell, “is to protect the crown. And seeing as I can’t guarantee you’ll keep your hands to yourself even if you were banished…”
The prisoner scrambled back on all fours, trying to back away from the cell doors. “Y-You—! They’ll have your head—!”
“For Prince Izuko, I’d gladly let my head roll,” he stated simply, finally stepping into the cell, the dry stalks of hay crunching beneath his heavy boots.
“W-What do you plan to do? To strike me right here?! You’re crazy!”
Bakugou grinned at the accusation, cocking his head and raising his sword. Crazy, maybe. From the moment he first smelled Izuku he knew that the omega was something Bakugou needed to protect. Wanted to protect. In a way that far surpassed a knight’s duty. And if that meant killing without orders, then so be it.
After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“That’s something you should’ve considered,” Bakugou said, breath even and paces steady, “before you decided to put your disgusting hands on my precious prince.”