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It started with Izuku tipping back the last of his drink, a flush creeping up his cheeks and an unmistakable spark in his eyes— the kind Katsuki had come to recognize as the precursor to one of his more ridiculous ideas.
“Kacchan,” Izuku declared, his voice a little too loud in the quiet of Katsuki’s apartment. “Let’s go to the beach.”
Katsuki groaned, already knowing this wasn’t a suggestion he could argue his way out of. “It’s almost sunset, you idiot. What’s the point?”
“Exactly!” Izuku beamed, standing up too quickly and swaying for a moment before catching himself on the edge of the couch. “We have to hurry if we want to catch up to the sun!”
“That’s not how it fucking works,” Katsuki grumbled, but he was already standing, shoving a blanket and a few beers into a bag. “Fine. Let’s go before you get any other stupid ideas.”
Izuku didn’t wait for further convincing. He grabbed Katsuki’s wrist and practically dragged him out the door, stumbling a little in his excitement.
The streets were emptier than usual, the fading light casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Izuku’s hand slipped from Katsuki’s wrist to his hand at some point, their fingers brushing before intertwining, but Katsuki didn’t shake him off.
“Faster, Kacchan! We’re gonna miss it!” Izuku said, pulling him along like a kid chasing after an ice cream truck.
“You can’t fucking miss the sun,” Katsuki muttered, but he let himself be tugged along, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The pace was ridiculous; they weren’t running so much as lurching forward, laughing breathlessly when one of them nearly tripped.
They wove through the streets like a pair of drunk idiots, Izuku dragging Katsuki down shortcuts he didn’t even know existed. At one point, they had to vault over a low fence separating an alley from the next street. Katsuki hopped it with ease, landing on the other side with a grunt. Izuku followed less gracefully, tripping on his landing and falling face-first into Katsuki’s back.
“Watch it, nerd!” Katsuki growled, steadying Izuku with a firm grip on his shoulders.
By the time they reached the beach, the sun was already kissing the horizon. The sky was covered in streaks of orange and pink, which reflected on the ocean stretched out in front of them. Izuku kicked off his shoes without hesitation, the sand cool and soft beneath his feet as he yanked off his sweater and tossed it behind him. Katsuki sighed, setting their bag down with far more care, watching as Izuku made a beeline for the water.
“Oi, you’re gonna freeze your ass off!” Katsuki called after him.
“Then come warm me up!” Izuku shot back, already ankle-deep in the ocean, his laughter carried by the breeze.
Katsuki rolled his eyes but followed, cursing under his breath as the cold water soaked through his pants. The chill was biting, and the sharp scent of saltwater stung his nose. “You’re fucking insane,” he muttered. Izuku just grinned at him, the light of the setting sun painting his face in a blend of gold and amber. The reflection off the water made everything shimmer.
For a heartbeat, Katsuki was caught up in how Izuku stood at the center of it all— glowing and unbothered by the cold waves lapping against their legs. The sunlight kissed every freckle on Izuku’s face, his eyes bright and unguarded, and it was almost too much to take in.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Izuku asked, his voice quieter now, reverent as he turned his gaze to the horizon. “I feel like we’re chasing the sun, you know?”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t bring himself to snap some sarcastic reply. Instead, he let his eyes linger on Izuku’s profile, the way the orange hues reflected in his hair and turned his shadow into something that danced on the water’s surface. “Yeah,” Katsuki said eventually, his voice low and barely audible. And he wasn’t sure if he meant the sun or Izuku himself.
The twilight deepened, the sky shifting from orange to purple, and Izuku’s playful mood returned. He kicked a splash of water at Katsuki, grinning mischievously. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
“Oh, you’re fucking dead now,” Katsuki growled. Izuku’s grin froze, a soft "uh-oh" escaping his lips before Katsuki surged forward, sending a wall of water splashing in his wake.
Izuku retaliated, scooping up water with both hands and flinging it wildly, catching Katsuki across the chest. “Take that!” he shouted, laughing as Katsuki sputtered.
“You little—” Katsuki lunged sideways to dodge the next splash, kicking up a wave with his foot that sent Izuku scrambling back. They danced around each other, the water sloshing and sparkling under the fading sunlight as if cheering on their battle.
For a moment, Izuku thought he had the upper hand, but then Katsuki feinted left and launched a massive splash directly at Izuku’s face. It hit square on, leaving Izuku gasping and dripping as he blinked the saltwater from his eyes.
“Oh no,” Izuku murmured, his voice half-laughing, half-horrified as Katsuki smirked with vengeance.
“You’re done for,” Katsuki growled, starting forward. Izuku yelped and turned tail, splashing out of the water as quickly as his legs could carry him.
The chase spilled onto the shoreline, Izuku darting ahead with Katsuki hot on his heels. Their wet footsteps left chaotic trails in the sand, the cool breeze pulling laughter from their lungs as they weaved around driftwood and stumbled over shells. A lone fisherman further down the beach paused to watch them with a bewildered expression, his rod forgotten in his hands.
Neither of them cared. Katsuki was gaining on Izuku, his hand brushing against the back of Izuku’s shirt. “Gotcha!” he barked, just as Izuku dodged sideways, tripping over his own feet in the process. They tumbled into the sand together, laughing and breathless. The waves crashed against the shore like applause.
By the time they made it back to their belongings, both of them were soaked and out of breath. Katsuki pulled off his shirt with a huff, wringing it out before laying the blanket flat and pulling the beers from the bag. Izuku flopped onto the blanket dramatically, his hair a mess of curls and saltwater.
Izuku made a grabby motion with his hands, pouting until Katsuki handed him a can of beer. Without a word, Izuku cracked it open and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh as the cool liquid hit his tongue.
Katsuki settled beside him, his own can hissing open as the moon began its slow ascent. The silvery light spilled over the ocean, and the waves reflected the glow in fragmented patterns, each ripple catching and breaking the moonlight into shards that danced with the tide. The air was cool and the faint scent of salt hung between them.
For a while, they simply watched in silence, the world shrinking to the sound of the ocean and the occasional clink of their beer cans as they took unhurried sips. When the first stars began to prick the sky, Izuku shifted, his gaze lifting upward.
"The stars are incredible,” he began, his voice soft, "They burn so brightly, even from so far away. But…" His cheeks tinged pink as he trailed off, eyes fixed on the sky as if he were piecing together constellations in his mind. “I bet it gets lonely out there, surrounded by so much space.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, unease creeping into his gut. Was Izuku really talking about the stars? He didn’t like the way it sounded— like a resigned sigh hidden behind pretty words. His gaze flicked to Izuku, catching the way his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater, pulling at loose threads like he was trying to unravel a thought.
“They’re not lonely,” Katsuki said after a moment, his voice quiet but firm. Izuku blinked at him, surprised, and Katsuki felt the weight of those green eyes on him. “Stars… they’re as close as they can get without wrecking everything. If they get too close, they pull each other apart— turn into a black hole or blow the hell up. They burn bright because they keep their distance.”
His words lingered, cutting through soft crashing waves, and Katsuki cursed himself silently for saying something so goddamn sentimental. He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tightening around his beer can. “They’re just… doing what they have to do.”
Izuku looked at him then, his wide eyes sharp against the shadows of nightfall. He didn’t argue, didn’t press. He just watched Katsuki for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before letting the silence fall between them again.
As the night wore on, the air grew cooler. Katsuki ignored it at first, but when Izuku shifted beside him, he felt the weight of his gaze.
“Hey,” Izuku said, his voice low but tinged with concern. Katsuki raised a brow, his confusion evident. Izuku didn’t elaborate. His eyes flicked pointedly to Katsuki’s arms, goosebumps dotting the exposed skin.
“You’re shivering,” Izuku pointed out.
Katsuki opened his mouth to snap something— he wasn’t shivering, damn it— but before he could, Izuku was already tugging his sweater off.
“Here,” he said, his voice soft as he scooted a little closer. Katsuki blinked as Izuku carefully draped the sweater over his shoulders. The fabric was still warm from Izuku’s body, and his arm brushed against Katsuki’s back as it settled there. Katsuki stiffened for a split second, the touch unexpected but not unwelcome. Izuku’s arm lingered, warm against his skin, the subtle press of it making his pulse pick up a little.
The third beer slid down smoothly as the evening stretched on, lazy and unhurried. The chill of the liquid was dulled by the warmth that lingered from Izuku’s sweater still wrapped around Katsuki’s shoulders. The fabric smelled faintly of him—soap, beer, and something sweeter—and Katsuki hated that he noticed. They sat side by side, looking up at the sky, the stars scattered across the darkness above them. Neither of them said much, just sipped their drinks in quiet company.
Katsuki stared up in silence, his brow faintly furrowed, as if he were trying to unravel some hidden secret in the constellations. The stars were nice, he guessed, but they weren’t what held his attention tonight.
As much as he hated admitting it, his favorite constellations weren’t the ones painted across the sky. They were right here, scattered faintly across the cheeks of the boy sitting beside him.
Katsuki’s gaze flickered sideways for a moment, just long enough to catch Izuku tipping his head back and taking a sip of his beer. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away, staring back up at the stars. But no matter how hard he tried, they couldn’t hold his interest— not when his favorite ones were sitting within arm’s reach.
And beside him, Izuku let his gaze drift— not to the stars, but to Katsuki.
He traced the way the moonlight softened Katsuki’s features, turning the sharp lines of his face into something gentler. His hair looked almost like a halo, the pale light catching on its edges. The faint furrow of his brow and the way his lips rested, slightly parted as he exhaled a quiet breath, made Izuku’s chest ache in a way he couldn’t bring himself to resist.
His chest tightened, the warmth spreading through him like a wave. It wasn’t the beer; he knew that much at this point. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his pulse picked up when Katsuki shifted, his knee brushing Izuku’s for the briefest moment.
The light reflected in Katsuki’s eyes, flickering like the surface of the ocean. Izuku’s breath caught as he realized how clear they were— bright and piercing, even in the dark. It was beautiful. Perfect, really. The way Katsuki looked like he belonged to the night and the stars had simply been hung around him for effect. Izuku couldn’t help but smile to himself, his chest tightening at the sight.
Katsuki glanced over at him, catching him in the act. There was that sharp, questioning look Katsuki always wore when he noticed something out of place, but Izuku didn’t look away. He met his gaze for a beat, then shifted his focus back to the sky. The stars blurred slightly as his heart thudded louder in his ears. He tilted his head toward the moon, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally spoke.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his words floating between them like they were carrying something more than just a simple observation.
Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat. His chest tightened, and his heart started to race. He blinked, trying to make sense of the question, there was a part of him that couldn’t ignore the weight of it.
The moon…is…beautiful?
Did Izuku mean it… like that? Was he…? No, there’s no way. Katsuki forced himself to focus on the beer in his hand, but it felt like the can had suddenly become too heavy. He swallowed thickly, his mind spinning in a thousand directions. The silence between them had deepened again, and all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, thundering in his ears.
He took a long sip of his beer, trying to steady himself, but it didn’t help. Izuku’s words could mean something else entirely, something more personal, more intimate. Katsuki’s chest tightened at the thought, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe properly.
But no. There’s no way Izuku meant it like that. Right? There was no way he’d be that obvious about it. Was there?
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair, the tension building in his shoulders like it was about to snap. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. So instead, without thinking, he shifted closer, leaning into Izuku until his face found the crook of his neck. The movement was sudden and maybe a little too eager, but it felt right in that moment. The warmth from Izuku’s body seeped into his, grounding him, making him feel less like he was teetering on the edge of something he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. But at the same time, the scent of him was intoxicating, making his pulse race a little faster. His breath hitched slightly as he let his forehead rest against Izuku’s skin, his fingers curling into the blanket beneath them like he needed something to hold onto.
“Yeah…” he muttered, his voice low, “I guess it is.”
Izuku didn’t say anything, but Katsuki could feel his gaze lingering on him. He didn’t need to look up to know. There was something unspoken hanging in the air between them, something that felt like it was waiting to be addressed, but neither of them said anything more.
They sit there in silence for a while again, just listening to the waves and sipping their beers. Izuku shifted a little, enough to make Katsuki glance up at him again.
"You know," Izuku started, a little shy but still smiling, "I think you're like the moonlight."
Katsuki pulled a face, half expecting some dumb joke, but Izuku kept going.
"You act like you're tough and sharp, like you don't care about anything, but... you’re steady. And you make everything look softer, brighter. Like... like this." He waved vaguely at the silver-lit water, the soft glow on the sand. "You make the dark feel safe, Kacchan."
Katsuki's ears burned, and he looked down at his beer like it held all the answers in the universe. "You’re drunk," he muttered, though it came out a little too soft to sound annoyed.
"You're my moonlight," Izuku countered, grinning now, a teasing lilt back in his voice. "Just take the compliment, grumpy."
Katsuki clicked his tongue but didn’t argue. Instead, he nudged Izuku with his elbow, smirking a little. "Fine, but if I’m moonlight, you’re sunlight, dumbass."
"Sunlight?" Izuku echoed, blinking at him in confusion.
"Yeah. Bright, loud, always running around like a moron—"
"Hey!"
"—but people fucking need you, even if they’re too stupid to say it. And you… make shit grow, Izuku." Katsuki grumbled the last part, like it cost him to admit it.
Izuku’s breath hitched, his lips parting slightly as he stared at Katsuki, eyes wide and glassy in the moonlight. The words hung in the air, heavy and delicate all at once, until Izuku dropped his gaze, cheeks warm and pink.
"Anyway,” Katsuki sighed, “The moon's beautiful, huh?" he teased softly.
“It is.” Izuku nodded, smiling as he tilted his head to look at Katsuki again.
Katsuki huffed a quiet laugh and leaned back onto his elbows, tilting his face toward the sky. His hand moved without much thought, fingers brushing against Izuku’s arm before tracing down the length of it. The touch was slow, absentminded, like he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. The pads of his fingers skated over the fabric of Izuku’s sleeve, and when they found bare skin, the contact sent a shiver up Izuku’s spine.
"So is the sun."
Izuku nearly choked on his beer. He coughed lightly, blinking in surprise. Katsuki’s hand froze, like he’d just realized what he was doing, what he was saying , but Izuku chuckled, shaking his head as he downed the rest of his drink in one go, trying to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
Izuku set the empty bottle aside and shifted, lying back on the blanket next to Katsuki. Izuku stared up at the sky, lost in thought, his chest still warm from Katsuki’s words. The stars seemed brighter somehow, and he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the quiet.
The faint rustle of movement caught his attention, and when he opened his eyes again, Katsuki was shifting. For a moment, Izuku thought he might just be adjusting his position, but then Katsuki leaned down, his head settling on Izuku’s stomach.
Izuku froze, his breath hitching at the unexpected closeness. Katsuki’s hair tickled through the fabric of his shirt, and the weight of his head felt grounding somehow. Izuku hesitated, his hand hovering awkwardly above Katsuki’s hair before he let it drift down, fingers brushing against the blonde strands.
Katsuki didn’t flinch or shove him away. He just stayed there, one arm folded over his stomach, his eyes closed as if he were resting.
Izuku’s fingers moved tentatively at first, running lightly through Katsuki’s hair. Then the motion became absentminded, his fingers curling and combing as if they had a mind of their own. Katsuki let out a barely audible hum, the sound so soft Izuku wasn’t even sure he’d meant for him to hear it.
Time passed in the easy quiet, the sounds of the ocean lapping at the shore filling the space between them. Katsuki’s breathing was steady, his body relaxed in a way Izuku rarely saw.
And then Katsuki moved again. His hand reached up, catching Izuku’s wrist mid-motion. Izuku stilled, his heart leaping as Katsuki’s fingers wrapped around his wrist— not harshly, just firmly enough to guide him away from his hair.
For a split second, Izuku thought Katsuki might tell him to knock it off, but instead, Katsuki pulled Izuku’s hand down, pressing it to his chest. Katsuki’s own hand rested on top, holding it there, like he couldn’t quite let go.
Izuku blinked, his cheeks flushing as he realized just how fast Katsuki’s heart was racing beneath his palm. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came.
Katsuki’s voice broke the silence, low and gruff, almost like he was trying to mask the vulnerability in his actions. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Izuku murmured.
“Don’t start, then.” Katsuki’s grip tightened, just a fraction, as if daring Izuku to pull away.
But Izuku didn’t move. He just let his fingers curl slightly, his hand resting against Katsuki’s chest like it belonged there.
They stayed like that for a while, the world fading away until it was just them, the blanket beneath them, and the stars above.
Eventually, Katsuki turned onto his side, leaning up on one elbow to gaze at Izuku. The moonlight painted everything in soft hues, but it was nothing compared to the way Izuku’s eyes seemed to glow.
Izuku noticed the shift and looked over, catching Katsuki’s gaze. His lips curved into a sweet, unguarded smile, and Katsuki felt something in his chest twist, sharp and warm all at once.
Without thinking, Katsuki leaned in, closing the space between them. The kiss he pressed to Izuku’s lips was soft, impossibly so, like the pale moonlight. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic, it was like the gentle push and pull of the tides.
When he pulled back, Izuku’s eyes were squeezed shut, his cheeks pink, and that soft, pretty smile still lingered. But when his eyes opened, they were glassy.
Katsuki frowned, his hand lifting to cup Izuku’s cheek, his thumb brushing against the faint dampness there. “Are you gonna fucking cry?” he asked, his voice gruff but quiet, laced with concern.
Izuku shook his head quickly, his hand coming up to swipe at his eyes. “No,” he muttered, his voice thick as he looked away for a second. Then, just as quickly, his gaze flicked back to Katsuki, his expression conflicted. “I just…”
He trailed off, biting his lip as if the words were caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. His hand came up, hovering uncertainly before settling on Katsuki’s arm. “I…”
The silence stretched, until Izuku chuckled softly, looking down and shaking his head. “It’s nothing,” he said finally, his voice light but not entirely convincing. Then, before Katsuki could argue, Izuku leaned up, brushing a quick kiss against his lips, like a period at the end of a sentence he wasn’t ready to finish.
Suddenly, a streak of light cut across the sky.
“Whoa,” Izuku whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Katsuki’s eyes snapped upward at the same time, and they both gasped in unison, the sound breaking the stillness. The shooting star vanished as quickly as it appeared, and for a few heartbeats, neither of them said anything, their gazes locked on the sky as if willing the star to return.
“Did you make a wish?” Izuku asked softly.
Katsuki snorted, though his lips curled into a small, lopsided grin. “Nah. Don’t need to.”
Izuku hummed, his fingers squeezing Katsuki gently. “Me neither.”