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Izuku stood on the rooftop of the three story building, gazing at the rows of houses lighting up one by one as night fell and the bustling streets below. Twilight had long fallen. The evening sky burned a fiery red, but the weather was bone-chillingly cold.
He unconsciously reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
His choice of cigarettes is pretty common—Seven Stars. It’s a very popular brand in Japan, known for its smooth but slightly strong flavor. But it’s good enough for him. He didn’t want anything flashy, just something to deal with stress and grapple with the weight he was carrying.
The clicking sound of the lighter was drowned out by the noisy street. The white filter tip quickly turned into glowing red ash. He held the slender cigarette between his fingers, brought it to his lips, and took a slow drag. The bitterness hit the back of his throat, immediately made him feel more awake. Smoke curled from his lips, a thin ribbon drifting out into the night air, dissipating as quickly as it'd formed.
He took another drag, deeper this time, letting the taste of the smoke settle deep in his lungs. He flicked the ash off the cigarette and watched it drift down before glowing briefly and vanishing completely.
“That thing will fucking kill you.”
Izuku whipped his head towards the sudden sound. Katsuki was standing a few feet behind him, scowling.
He simply shrugged. He was used to Katsuki’s disapproval of this unhealthy habit. Izuku remembered the first time he found out about this, he was so mad that Izuku thought he was finally gonna kill him. Since then, he kept on rambling about how harmful cigarettes are, how high the percentage of people getting cancer from smoking is, and so on so forth.
Izuku was well-aware of how bad smoking is, but he liked to think that he knew when to stop. He wasn’t an addict, he only smoked like twice a week, just enough to unwind.
Besides, he was a hero. One of the most dangerous occupations. He faced death on a daily basis, one or two cigs wouldn’t matter that much compared to that.
“I know what you’re thinking. That’s not a damn excuse.” Katsuki sighed, walking towards Izuku to stand beside him. “As if I’m gonna allow you to die.”
“Aw, it’s that your way of saying you’ll protect me?”
“Stop putting words in my fucking mouth, shitnerd.”
Izuku simply chuckled at his words. He brought the cigarette to his lips, quietly taking another long drag. The strong, rich taste of the smoke filled his mouth and slid down his throat, making his head feel light. He turned to Katsuki, suddenly feeling bolder than usual.
Katsuki was already looking at him. His red eyes shined brightly beneath the sunset. The anger on his face had disappeared, replaced with something more somber. Izuku couldn’t tell what it was.
“Throw that shit away first.”
Izuku pouted, but complied anyway. He pressed the half-smoked cigarette’s filter against the railing to put out the flame, then mindlessly tossed it into the nearby trash can. He cheerfully moved toward Katsuki, closing the distance between them until he could feel the gentle brush of the other boy's breath against his face, warm in the chilly night air.
Katsuki grabbed his chin, saying nothing. His thumb brushed his jaw for a moment before he leaned in and kissed him. Izuku’s eyes fluttered shut, surrendering control to him. His arms naturally lifted to wrap around Katsuki’s neck, deepening the kiss. One of Katsuki's hands slid down to grab his waist, pulling him into his embrace. Katsuki's hot body pressed against him, and Izuku trembled slightly.
Their kiss was slow, sensual, and deliberate. Unlike his rough personality, Katsuki kissed with surprising tenderness. Izuku always found something undeniably sweet in the way he held his lover in his strong arms, moving his lips with a care that made every second feel like it mattered.
Izuku broke away first, gasping for air. Katsuki wasn’t really satisfied with that, his burning lips trailed down Izuku’s jaw, ear, neck. He shivered. His touch felt more addictive than any other drugs.
“Tastes like fucking lung cancer.”
Katsuki grumbled. His free hand slid upward, resting on the nape of Izuku’s neck, the gentle act contradicting the fire in his crimson eyes. His possessive grip both grounded and overwhelmed Izuku.
To that, he just giggled, “Love you too, Kacchan.”
“Shut the hell up.”