Work Text:
. : Two Shakes of a Lamb’s Tail : .
“Two iced coffees, please.”
A cash register chimed from behind a glass partition. A young woman in an apron clicked a few keys before presenting a practiced smile. As Izuku pulled out his wallet, the woman’s perky cat ears twisted forward, focusing on the sound.
“Thank you very much, sir. I’ll get those right away,” she said, taking the bill he’d placed on the counter.
After receiving his change, Izuku shuffled his feet against the floor. It was a habit he had when anticipating something. Katsuki had always teased him for it, even now.
Stupid sheep, is what Katsuki would say before grinding a fist into Izuku’s messy coils of dark green hair. When they were kids, sometimes Katsuki would tug at the brown fur of Izuku’s stubby, rounded ears. It was harder to do so now that he was an adult, as his horns had curled around his ears like a shield. Katsuki’s touch didn’t hurt as much anyway. Izuku could tell what affection felt like.
His drinks landed on the counter, and Izuku hurried to grab them and trot outside. He didn’t travel far, stopping beside the door of a record store next to the coffee shop. Through the large glass windows, Izuku could see Katsuki inside, flicking through a box of vintage cases.
Every so often, he would pause, pick something out, examine the vinyl inside, and then place it back. Whenever a record caught his attention, large, pointed ears would stand up straight and a long, fluffy tail would rise ever so slightly, shaking back and forth in a slow, gentle arc. It had been twenty years since Izuku met him, but deep down, Katsuki was still just a puppy.
Izuku lifted one of the iced coffees to his lips, taking short sips from the straw. He rested his back against the window as he let the cool drink cast a refreshing spell over his warm body. The summer sun hung bright in the afternoon sky. A welcome change from the storms they’d had last week.
He shouldn’t think about it, Katsuki had warned him. Izuku shouldn’t think about how Katsuki got during thunderstorms. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, though. It was normal for most dog hybrids to be skittish at the flashing and crashing of lightning. Like a second nature passed down from canine to canine. Besides, it was cute.
“The hell are you grinning about?”
Izuku jumped, fur standing on end as suddenly, Katsuki stood looming over him. A scowl stretched out across his face and a bag of records was slung over his arm. Despite Katsuki’s annoyed look, Izuku noticed his tail betraying him. It wagged with a faster speed than it had in the store. Seeing Izuku only improved Katsuki’s mood.
“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku returned, ignoring the question. “I got an iced coffee while you were shopping. One for you, too.”
As he reached out to offer the drink, Katsuki snatched it from his hand. He stuffed the straw in his mouth and began gulping it down, only pausing for a moment to mumble, “Thanks.”
Izuku beamed. Getting Katsuki in a good mood was rare, especially when they went out together. More often than not, he was a guarded, growling grump. Maybe Izuku could take a risk. Maybe Katsuki wouldn’t mind.
In the most nonchalant way possible, Izuku slipped his free hand under Katsuki’s arm. He didn’t even look up as he wrapped around Katsuki in a casual half-embrace. Izuku continued to stare out into the street and sip on his coffee, hoping the next words he heard weren’t Katsuki yelling at him to let go.
Instead, Izuku heard a soft thump, thump, thump. His face turned red, as he was sure Katsuki’s had too, because he knew that sound very well. Katsuki’s tail was wagging harder, bouncing against the wall behind them. Izuku chanced a light squeeze on Katsuki’s arm for reassurance.
“Let’s just go,” Katsuki snapped, all bark and no bite. He pulled Izuku along as he stomped across the sidewalk.
What might have looked like a wolf dragging away a sheep was endlessly amusing for Izuku. He hurried to keep up so that his arm could stay entwined with his lover’s.
Weekdays lasted far too long. When the evening finally rolled around, Izuku was always acutely fixated on the clicking of the clock hands that hung over his desk. They counted the minutes that kept him shackled to the workplace. With every tick, his ears would twitch in time. Up, down. Up, down. Home, Kacchan.
“Midoriya.”
Izuku bleated in surprise, throwing a hand over his mouth to stifle the embarrassing sound. He glanced around the office. An old goat in the corner yawned as if she’d heard nothing, and continued typing on her computer.
“Sorry. Did I startle you?” Todoroki asked, placing a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. Striped and spotted fur fluttered in the gentle breeze of a small desk fan. Izuku glanced up, meeting Todoroki’s cat-like eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he assured. “It’s my fault. I was spacing out.”
The tip of Todoroki’s thin tail curled and flicked, cautious and curious. “Well, I just came to ask if you’re free tonight. A group of us are going out for drinks after work.”
Izuku sucked in his bottom lip. He hated saying no.
However, tonight was different. Katsuki needed him. No words had been spoken that morning, but Izuku could tell what was on Katsuki’s mind as he watched the weather report.
“I’m really sorry, Todoroki,” Izuku said, rubbing sheepishly at the end of one of his horns. “There’s something I’ve got to do tonight.”
“Is anything wrong?”
“Oh, no, no! Everything is—”
“Ah, spending time with your boyfriend, mon ami?”
To Izuku’s other side, Aoyama peeked over the top of a cubicle wall, no doubt standing on his chair to achieve the necessary height. His mischievous grin and knowing eyes spoke volumes.
“He is a canine, no? A big, grumpy doggy?” Aoyama teased. “Très adorable. Keep him safe, Midoriya.”
Of course Aoyama knew. As a fellow canine, he was inclined towards similar tendencies. However, unlike dogs, foxes were better suited for tolerating unsavory weather.
This fact meant nothing to Aoyama, who winked very conspicuously in Izuku’s direction.
Izuku sank into himself, a gooey, embarrassed lump. The reds of his face swirled like crackling fire. Flames of sentimentality. He was a mess of boyish emotions and desire. Deep down, just a child who wanted to hug his puppy.
Did this make him selfish? If it did, Izuku didn’t care.
Todoroki, oblivious to the nuance, tilted his head quizzically. “I don’t get it,” he remarked.
“It is all right, mon petit chat,” Aoyama said, face twinkling as he struck a pose. “This is a bond not meant for us to understand. Right, Midoriya?”
“Y-Yes.”
“And there you have it!” With a gasp, Aoyama pointed to the clock above Izuku’s desk. “Sacré bleu, it is almost time to go! We had best finish up our shifts, boys.”
Aoyama parted with a wave of his fingers as he ducked back behind the wall. Izuku had all but melted to the floor. The urge to nervously chew on something bubbled in Izuku’s stomach. That stack of papers on his desk was beginning to look quite inviting.
“It’s okay, Midoriya. Maybe next time,” Todoroki said. He placed a final pat on Izuku’s back before returning to his own workspace.
Somehow, it seemed as if Aoyama had deterred Todoroki from asking any questions. He would most definitely be getting some fried tofu and a cheese plate on his desk later in the week.
The bubbly urge in Izuku’s stomach morphed into a mass of butterflies excitedly fluttering about. Joyful bleats stuck to the base of Izuku’s throat as he held them down, too mortified to release them in public. If his legs allowed, he would be prancing out of work.
“Dinner’s on the table.”
Katsuki gestured behind him, not taking his eyes off the television.
Izuku ignored the large salad and sauteed mushroom caps, and threw his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders. Katsuki flinched, nearly jumping up from his seat on the couch.
“The hell?” he barked, fur standing on end. “Get off me!”
There was no attempt to struggle, so Izuku only held on tighter. He nuzzled into the back of Katsuki’s head. His hair was still damp from his evening shower. Citrus body wash mingled with his natural scent. Izuku was instantly intoxicated.
“I can eat later,” he replied. “Stop watching the weather and come to the bedroom with me.”
Katsuki stiffened. One of his ears flicked in response.
“I know you want to, Kacchan,” Izuku cooed, gently scratching under Katsuki’s chin.
Through clenched teeth, Katsuki growled, “You don’t know jack.”
Izuku grinned.
Thump, thump, thump.
“I know what that sound means.”
Katsuki’s hand snapped out to grasp his wagging tail. His face warmed like a cozy fire. Izuku’s keen ears could hear the softer thumping of Katsuki’s heartbeat as it pitter-pattered in his chest.
One of Katsuki’s feet was bouncing against the floor, faster and faster as his thoughts tripped and stumbled over themselves. Eventually, he gave in, scratching his head in defeat.
“Argh, fine,” he grumbled. Izuku’s arms dropped as Katsuki stood up. “But I’m not gonna let you just leave your food out here. Eat it or put it away, got it?”
Izuku nodded eagerly. Katsuki leaned over to stare him down. His canine teeth were clearly visible through a wide grin.
“I’ll meet you there. Eat or put away, nerd.”
Knuckles brushed behind Izuku’s ear as Katsuki sauntered out of the living room. His golden tail swayed between his legs like a hypnotic pendulum. The door to the bedroom shut behind him, just to tease Izuku and keep him from peeking in.
Izuku began ripping plastic wrap with his teeth in order to put his food in the refrigerator faster. With a final click of the remote, he turned off the television, silencing the weather report warning of severe storms for the night.
Chicken was the obvious choice. All canines loved chicken. But perhaps that meant it wasn’t as special. Turkey was similar, but seemed a bit more thoughtful, as if Izuku had wanted to get him something healthy and filling. Then there was ham; a meat that was savory and sweet and often saved for a rare occasion. Would that be too much? Did it scream ‘ulterior motive?’
“Just pick one, Deku,” Uraraka groaned. She paced behind Izuku and twirled her long ears, minutes away from tying them in knots due to impatience.
“I’m sorry, it’s just so hard…” Izuku bit his lip and tried to ignore Uraraka tapping her foot with rabbit-like speed. He could almost see her nose twitching out of the corner of his eye.
“He’ll love whatever you get him. Dogs aren’t picky eaters.”
“But I want something that shows my gratitude,” Izuku said, eyes wandering around the well-stocked butcher shop. “Maybe I should get him something tougher like duck or quail—”
“Deku.”
His cheeks squished against Uraraka’s hands, turning his head to look her in the eye.
“It’s okay,” she assured. Her palms rubbed tiny circles into Izuku’s skin, soft and calming. The motion brought Izuku to a place of comfort, reminding him of when his mother would nuzzle his face.
Uraraka was right. Katsuki would enjoy anything he brought home, especially food. Without a second thought, Izuku purchased a whole turkey and three chicken drumsticks for Katsuki to gnaw on later.
As soon as they exited the store, Uraraka raised her hands to the sky and stretched her arms as far as they could go. She had never been keen to stay in one place for too long, and Izuku could see her boundless energy returning once the sunlight hit her face. She hopped on ahead, well aware that Izuku’s strong legs could keep up.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Uraraka called to him. “Why don’t we go to the free-roam park? With all the rain we’ve had lately, Iida and I haven’t been in a week.”
“The free-roam park…?” Izuku nearly stumbled in his stride. He didn’t want to deny Uraraka a long-awaited opportunity to run around and be herself, but the thought of transforming in front of strangers…
“You don’t have to join me.”
Uraraka was suddenly beside him, holding onto Izuku’s hand with a reassuring squeeze. Round cheeks turned up as she smiled softly.
“I know how you get about your animal form,” she said, “and it’s not that uncommon. A lot of people are uncomfortable morphing in public. I don’t mind if you sit on the side. Just…pretty please? Can we go to the park?”
Izuku slowly nodded, still a bit trepidatious. Everything would be fine. No one needed to see what he really looked like.
The free-roam park buzzed with the sounds of early summer cicadas. Water splashed from a tiered fountain as a family of beavers slapped their tails happily. Dogs and cats chased each other around a large grassy field while squirrels jumped about the trees surrounding the area. A lion bathed in the sun, rolling into his back to scratch at an itch. Rodents scurried about the park in places both high and low, careful not to end up under a bigger animal’s paw.
Izuku was about to warn Uraraka to be careful, but she was already taking off her shoes and socks.
“Watch my clothes for me, Deku,” she said, jittering with excitement. “I promise I won’t be too long.”
With a wink, Uraraka shrank into her blouse and shorts. A tiny pink nose soon poked out from under the fabric, and a sprightly brown rabbit hopped onto the grass. Delicate paws straightened out her ears before she wiggled her bum, fluffed out her cottontail, and leapt about the park.
Izuku picked up Uraraka’s discarded garments, quickly stuffing her underwear into her purse before anyone noticed. He shuffled over to a bench beside the fountain to sit down with his and Uraraka’s bags. After bowing politely to the beaver family behind him, he watched Uraraka speed through the grass in a blur of fuzz. Izuku found himself able to relax vicariously through her.
Animal instincts were strong, and no hybrid could live a healthy life without freeing themselves once in a while. Nature called to everyone. All species needed to feel the restrictions of human life vanish for a moment. There was nothing more fulfilling and pure than living as a creature completely in tune with the earth. Even Izuku had to admit he felt the urge to prace and graze with the other sheep.
But it was fine. No one but Katsuki needed to see his awkward, gangly legs and scrunchy snout. Compared to the cute, fluffy lambs with their precious wool coats, Izuku would look so out of place if he stood next to them. His massive horns stood out enough just as they were on his human head.
“No, they do not,” Uraraka squeaked beside him. Izuku jolted, looking down to see she had hopped onto the bench and was attempting to leap onto his shoulder.
“Was I—”
“Thinking out loud? Yes, you were.” She lazily draped herself over Izuku and pressed a paw into his cheek. “You don’t have to feel ashamed of the way you were born, Deku. When we’re all animals, none of that matters. It’s a time to be free and enjoy yourself, whether or not it’s in this park or alone with Bakugo.”
Izuku held on tighter to his shopping bag. Although he felt fear and shame at the thought of others seeing him as he truly was, Izuku never had a desire to hide from Katsuki. To him, Izuku was an open book. It was something they had in common, a secret they shared as lovers, as childhood friends. Katsuki was the same as him.
Maybe someday they would be ready to be themselves, their real, wonderful selves, without embarrassment and secrecy holding them back. Their first step had taken so long to complete, but eventually, a second would follow.
“I’ll think about it, Uraraka. I’ll talk to Kacchan, too.”
“Really?” Her ears stood on end, alert and astounded. “That’d be great if you could get him to actually hang out with us. Kirishima and Kaminari would be ecstatic. You know those mutts consider him one of their pack.”
“Yeah, I do,” Izuku chuckled. “Kacchan always complains about needing to wash off their scent whenever he sees them.”
Uraraka giggled and bounced her hind leg. “Now then, Deku… If you could take me to the dressing rooms over there, I’d really appreciate it.”
When Katsuki entered their apartment that evening, he paused, raised his head, and sniffed the air. His ears quirked left and right, tail slowly curling upward.
“Kacchan, welcome home!” Izuku greeted him excitedly, pulling him to the kitchen. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Pretty sure I know what it is,” Katsuki said. He tapped a finger against his nose in case Izuku didn’t get the hint. “Kinda hard to surprise a dog with meat.”
Izuku’s fur stood on end. He grumbled to himself, puffing out his cheeks in frustration. “Okay, but… You don’t know what type of meat it is, do you?”
It only took a few more quiet sniffs before Katsuki declared, “Turkey. Definitely turkey. And some chicken.”
“You’re terrible!”
Izuku attempted to ram his head into Katsuki’s chest, but his horns were easily stopped, caught by the equal force of Katsuki’s hands. It was all he could do to twist his gaze toward Katsuki’s cocky grin, so proud of himself that Izuku couldn’t decide whether to kiss or headbutt that expression away. Sometimes this mangy little dog was insufferable. Sometimes that made him more attractive.
“Hey,” Katsuki said through an unfairly handsome smile, “thanks, Deku.”
The sound of Izuku’s heartbeat puttered in his ears like a hummingbird, one sweet nothing away from taking off and flying out of his body. Thank goodness springtime had already passed, or else Katsuki might not have gotten to say anything at all before Izuku pounced on him. For now, all he got was Izuku tugging at his shirt to plant a firm, solid kiss on his smug lips.
Katsuki's hands swept over the curve of Izuku’s horns, lowering behind his ears to rub gentle circles. Ripples of ticklish pleasure spread through Izuku’s spine. He pulled back to glare at Katsuki.
“Jerk.”
“Nerd.”
Predictable.
But that was what Izuku liked best about their relationship. There were some things for which he was absolutely certain about Katsuki, and it was comforting. Without saying it aloud, Izuku knew how Katsuki felt about him.
“Kacchan, I was wondering,” Izuku began, drawing patterns with his finger on Katsuki’s shoulder, “even though it’s not raining… Can we still, you know… Can we do it tonight?”
Katsuki flicked an ear and puffed out his chest. “Now? Why?”
“Because when we get to be like that, it just feels right, doesn’t it? I don’t think we should hide ourselves—not even from each other.”
There was an eerie silence as Katsuki pondered Izuku’s words. “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
“No! Of course not!” Izuku shrieked, smacking his arm lightly. “I would never do that, Kacchan. I love you.”
“Idiot!” Katsuki scoffed and turned away. The back of his neck began glowing pink. “You’re such a damn sap. Gross.”
Thump, thump, thump.
Katsuki’s tail slapped against the wall over and over. Izuku sucked in his lips, desperate not to bleat out any laughter. He instead wrapped his arms around Katsuki in a warm, safe embrace.
“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku murmured into his chest. “It’s just me.”
He backed away from Izuku without a word. Katsuki walked very casually into the bedroom, only glancing back at Izuku for a brief moment. Izuku waited for a signal, and seconds later, Katsuki barked. Sharp, shrill, small.
When Izuku stepped through the door, Katsuki was already laying on the bed. Proud and fierce, upright and poised, he was the prettiest long-haired Chihuahua Izuku he’d ever seen. Not that he knew many, but even those he hadn’t met could never compare.
Katsuki’s silky fur and fluffy tail and cute, deer-shaped muzzle made him both adorable and regal. His eyes were narrow and mysterious, yet bright and wonderous. The way he held his front paws out, one over the other, gave him a self-assured pose that said, ‘I may be tiny, but I’m worth it.’
Keeling at the foot of the bed, Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s soft, little face and kissed the top of his head. His throat trilled with joy as he nuzzled Katsuki’s pink nose.
“Thank you, Kacchan, thank you, thank you—”
“Shut up and morph already, dumbass,” Katsuki growled. “I’m gonna change back if you keep making a big deal outta this, so hurry up.”
Izuku quickly stripped off his clothes and jumped onto the bed. He hurried to situate himself around Katsuki as he transformed, arching his back and tucking in his limbs as a short, sandy coat grew across his body. Hands and feet disappeared into hard, strong hooves. His horns and ears fit much better atop his head once it changed shape with his snout. Once his form became fully animal, Izuku’s tail wiggled happily on his large hind quarters.
Katsuki looked up, shaking his head. “Feeling better, you stupid sheep?”
From where he lay, Katsuki was almost ten times smaller than Izuku. While a Chihuahua like him could fit in a purse, an adult bighorn ram was bigger than the inside of a car. Izuku towered over Katsuki when he stood, blanketed him when they lay together. He wasn’t just on the bed, he was the bed to Katsuki.
“Yes, actually,” Izuku brayed, nudging Katsuki to climb onto his back. “What about you, Kacchan?”
A soft huff exited Katsuki’s twitchy nose. He hopped up effortlessly and sat on top of Izuku, kneading his furry skin with dull claws. He curled into himself, closing his eyes.
“It’s not so bad,” he grumbled, “as long as you don’t cry about it.”
A tall order, considering this was the most relaxed Izuku had felt in a long time. They weren’t doing this for any reason other than themselves. It was a step forward for both of them.
One day, Katsuki would shed an ounce of pride enough to let people see him for who he was; a deeply devoted, cuddly puppy. And one day, Izuku would be comfortable with himself to show off the big, stupid sheep Katsuki fell in love with. For now, the rain had cleared, and nothing was hanging over their heads.
“I’m not gonna cry, Kacchan. Promise,” Izuku said, bleating out a few chuckles. He lowered his head to rest on his front legs, curling up the same as Katsuki.
There was a quiet swish, swish of Katsuki’s tail as it lazily wagged across Izuku’s fur coat. Soon, Katsuki was snoring, gentle and wheezy and so gosh darn cute. Izuku didn’t care how many times Katsuki got embarrassed. He would say it more and more and more than that.
I love you, Kacchan, Izuku thought before drifting off to sleep.