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The mornings like this are always the best. Sweet and lazy with no work. Both men are on call but Villain activity has been low in the last week. It should hopefully stay that way for a while after a big criminal bust. Today none of that matters, though, not really, not in the least.
They wake up early even on days off. Sometimes it's especially on days off that they wake with the sun rather than an alarm, because it means more time together with no one else but them and minimal risk of being called away. Sunbeams have only just started to filter through the window, early morning birds twittering happily outside, and nothing could possibly be more perfect.
It's warm here, in the growing lines of sunlight filtering through the slats of the blinds, wrapped up in a mess of blankets and limbs. Warm and comfortable and above all else it's a net of safety keeping them aloft, above all the dangers of the world. Katsuki can't stop the sharp intake of breath and soft sound that filters from him as he finally comes fully into consciousness, but it's only brief. These days, these tender, sticky-with-the-clean-sweat-of-sleep mornings are better done half asleep and fully entrenched in his lover. He rolls over and tangles himself more completely in Izuku, sliding a leg between his thighs, pulling him close with an arm wound around his hip. His forehead comes gently to rest on the other man's and by the way he sighs—slow, high, almost but not quite a hum—Katsuki can tell he's already awake.
Izuku hums softly then, as if a call to love itself. It's a sweet sound that punctuates the way he nuzzles forward until their noses brush. It's a tender greeting, nonverbal and mostly silent, eyes still closed, his and Katsuki's both. Then he presses forward once more, brushing their lips together once, twice, again, and again, each one soft and calm and as ever half-asleep.
The blonde responds in kind, always a bit rougher around the edges and always a little more forceful but just as tender and loving. He's the one to move forward and seal them together in a deeper kiss, rolling lazily until his lover is under him. His arms bracket Izuku's head, fingers brushing against but not tangling in his hair, every movement like he's honored to be in the presence of something sacred.
"Mornin'..." His voice is a mumble against Izuku's lips, more rasp than gravel, more instinct than conscious thought. It's lazy and content, because Katsuki is lazy and content in this devoted, romantic moment.
Izuku hums wordlessly by way of reply, leaning up to reinitiate that kiss as he slowly winds his arms around Katsuki's neck. "Morning Kacchan." It's barely a whisper, the ghost of a pair of words against his lover before they're melting together into another lazy kiss.
The mornings like this are always the best. Sweet and lazy with no work. Nothing but tangled limbs and slow kisses that warm them up languidly until they're an intimate mess together with no worries in the world. They cherish these mornings like nothing else in their lives, in the same passionate way they cherish each other.