Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Midoriya, you might wanna slow down a bit.”

Izuku barely hesitated as he reached for his second shot. Normally, no one would bat an eye at him drinking as everyone here had their own way of unwinding. The problem was, he had only arrived a few minutes ago.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, offering a smile before knocking the shot back in one motion. He barely registered the burn. When he set the glass down, he noticed the stares. Wide eyes and concern in everybody’s face. 

Kirishima leaned in a bit closer. “You sure you’re okay, man?” 

Izuku nodded. “Can I get another one?”

“Not to mother you, but no.” Kirishima chuckled, but the concern didn’t leave his eyes.

Izuku let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back against the leather couch in exaggerated defeat. He draped an arm over his eyes.

This place had a certain charm. It wasn’t quite a pub, nor was it a restaurant—it was something in between, a private little bar run by an old friend of theirs. He would always close the place early just for their class to hang out in peace, because he knew very well how overwhelming their lives could get with all the fans and news reporters following them around everywhere all the time.

The atmosphere was warm and inviting. Plush black couches lined each table, perfect for sinking into after a long day. The walls were a deep midnight blue, adorned with peculiar art and mismatched decorations that somehow fit together perfectly. There were no harsh overhead lights—just soft lamps casting a golden glow, while faint purple LED strips framed the tables, adding an almost ethereal touch to the space.

Izuku exhaled slowly, letting his eyes drift across the room. This was their tradition. Twice a year, no matter how chaotic their schedules were, they made time for this. They would drink, talk and laugh until early in the morning. 

“So,” Denki suddenly turned to him, getting everyone’s attention. “How’s it going, teach?”

Izuku chuckled and shaked his head. “You know,” he exhaled. “The usual.”

Everyone at the table eyed him with a serious expression on their faces.

“Alright, get this,” Izuku shifted on the couch. “We had a rescue simulation today, right? And I spent hours setting it up. I organized different obstacles, hidden civilians, villains… Everything was laid out perfectly.” He exhaled sharply. “But guess what my students do? Half of them completely ignore the instructions, and the other half treat it like some kind of competition instead of an actual rescue mission.”

A chorus of groans sounded around the table.

“Full battle mode, huh?” Sero shook his head.

“Full battle mode,” Izuku confirmed with a tired nod. “One kid launched a ‘civilian’ out of the danger zone. Like literally just threw them over their shoulder and sprinted to the finish line. When I asked why he thought that was a good idea, he said, ‘Well, they didn’t break any bones and I won, so mission cleared, right?’” He dragged a hand down his face. “I thought I was gonna lose my mind.”

Ochako sighed. “That’s really rough.”

“I don’t get it,” Izuku continued, slumping further into the couch. “I explain everything so clearly. I go over strategies, I give them examples, I tell them why these exercises matter, and they still act like they know better. Or they just don’t care. It’s like I’m just some strict old man making them do pointless drills. I’m trying so hard to make them understand how important this is, because one day, it’s not going to be a simulation.”

Momo, who had been listening quietly, gave him a small nod. “You’re doing your job, Midoriya. It’s not easy, but they’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima agreed. “You just gotta be firm with them. They’ll respect you for it in the long run.”

Izuku let out a small laugh. “You think so?”

“Of course,” Mina said, nudging his arm. “You care a lot and that’s what makes you a great teacher. They might not realize it now, but trust me, they’ll remember everything you taught them one day.”

Izuku exhaled, staring down at his glass. “I hope so,” he murmured.

Sero, who had been observing him closely, raised an eyebrow. “Alright, so that’s why you went after those shots like an animal.”

Izuku groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I did not—”

“You did,” Denki confirmed, grinning. “You barely even sat down before knocking them back.”

Izuku sighed, shaking his head as he swirled the drink in his glass, watching the way the liquid caught the dim light. "I just needed to unwind, okay?" he muttered. He didn't look up, but he could feel the way his friends were watching him. They were concerned. 

He was just tired. The routine had become suffocating. Wake up early, eat something quick, rush to UA, teach, grade papers, prepare lessons, push his students harder, and then go home only to eat and collapse into bed. And it would start all over again. It wasn’t that he hated it. He loved teaching, but lately, everything felt like it was blurring together. He wasn’t burned out, but he could feel it slowly creeping up on him. 

He poured down another shot of whatever was in the bottle and knocked it back, swallowing the bitter taste that made the back of his throat burn. He leaned back against the couch, letting the alcohol settle in his chest. He could feel the tension in his body begin to loosen a little.

He smiled to himself, enjoying the lighthearted banter that surrounded him. He could almost forget what awaited him tomorrow. That was, until the sudden shrill of high-pitched screams coming from the outside pierced the calm atmosphere

Denki jumped from his seat, eyes wide. “What the hell was that?” he shouted.

Izuku’s own heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he stood up, his senses immediately on alert. A quick glance around told him that everyone else had stopped talking too. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.

Ochako moved first, her hand reaching for the window curtain to peek outside. Her brow furrowed in concern. “There’s a lot of people gathering, out there,” she said.

Kyoka followed behind her, her eyes scanning the scene outside. “What’s happening?” she asked, noticing the crowd.

“A villain?” Sero asked. Everyone in the room exchanged another round of looks.

Izuku quickly moved to join them. He peered over Ochako’s shoulder, trying to make out what was going on through the dim window. The crowd wasn’t small—it was massive, maybe hundreds of people, all packed together, surging forward like a wave. They weren’t running in panic, though. The people weren’t terrified. They were… excited? 

Flashes of camera lights filled the air in front of him. His gaze shifted to the center of the crowd, trying to figure out who they were all gathered around. Whoever it was, the crowd had already surrounded them, pushing and shoving in their desperation to get closer. The person was stumbling, trying to maintain balance as the sea of bodies surged against him. Then, just as quickly, they were gone from his field of vision. The crowd moved.

Izuku’s eyes darted back to the others. “Weird,” he muttered. “Do you think it was—” Before he could say anything else, a loud bang echoed against the glass door, making everyone jump. Izuku flinched at the sound. 

Everyone’s gaze immediately shifted to the door, their eyes wide. Through the glass, they saw the figure, still surrounded by people. The person was pushing through the crowd, trying to make his way toward the door. As he moved closer, the hood of the coat was yanked off his head and revealed a mess of spiky blonde hair.

“Kacchan…” Izuku whispered.

Without missing a beat, Takumi, the bar owner, was already at the door, unlocking it with swift precision. He opened it just enough to let Katsuki slip through, and the second he was inside, Takumi slammed the door shut, locking it again before drawing the curtains across the window. 

“Great, now they’ll be out there waiting until we’re drunk as hell.” Sero muttered with a slight groan.

Katsuki scoffed and started taking off his coat. “Like it’s my fault these idiots started following me.”

Kirishima stood up, his wide grin lighting up his face as he walked over to Katsuki. “Nice to see you, man!” he said, reaching out to give him a fist bump. Katsuki grunted, returning the gesture.

Izuku watched them, a small smile tugging at his lips. The alcohol he’d downed earlier seemed to already start to kick in. He could feel the warmth spreading in his chest. No surprise , he thought. He had already had three shots in a span of ten minutes, and his stomach had been empty since earlier 

Seeing him again caused a strong flutter in his chest. They had spent so much time together lately. More than ever before, since Katsuki had started showing up to Izuku’s classes as a guest teacher, helping him train the students. He was always sharp, direct and skilled, which made him a perfect fit for the curriculum.

Izuku had tried to keep it professional, but the students had started to pick up on the subtle moments that even Izuku hadn’t been able to control. They joked around and exchanged odd looks. And then there were the little things. The soft touches, the way their proximity often lingered just a little too long. There were times after class when Katsuki would ruffle his hair playfully, or run a thumb across his cheek. The students noticed, of course. They noticed everything. They had their own theories and rumors, but no one could ever confirm anything. It would only make sense for them to think there was something more going on, but they were just colleagues. Just friends. 

But in the back of Izuku’s mind, he wasn’t so sure anymore. How many times had they been so close that their breaths mingled? How many times had Katsuki touched his waist to move him around even though he could’ve just walked around him?  It was getting harder to ignore the flutter in his chest whenever Katsuki was around, and the feelings Izuku tried to bury were starting to feel too large to keep down. 

Izuku watched Katsuki sit right next to him, still adjusting the watch on his wrist. Katsuki leaned back, his eyes glancing at the shot glass in Izuku’s hand.

“Well, you’re quick to start, huh?” Katsuki teased, like he knew exactly what had been going on in Izuku’s mind. 

He wasn’t wrong. Izuku had already finished three shots and the alcohol was sinking into his bloodstream faster than he expected. He hadn’t eaten anything since morning, and the exhaustion from the endless hours spent teaching and preparing lessons also did not help. 

“I needed something to help me relax,” Izuku said, placing the shot glass on the table and turning back to him with a smile, trying to ignore how insanely hot Katsuki looked tonight. “So, when are you visiting my class again?” 

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Do you seriously wanna talk about work?” He asked.

“Ah- No, sorry,” Izuku quickly said. Why did work always seem to be the first thing on his mind? He had meant to leave it all behind for one night, but somehow he always ended up bringing it back up. He seriously needed to unwind. 

He leaned over the table, grabbing the bottle once more.  “Just gonna—” Izuku muttered to himself.

Katsuki didn’t say a word but kept his eyes fixed on Izuku, watching his every movement.

“Shot number four, by the way,” Kirishima said, causing Izuku to pause in his movements.

Katsuki shot him a glare. “Four?”

Kirishima nodded with raised brows and lips in a line.

Katsuki clicked his tongue in irritation, but didn’t look away from Izuku, who had already managed to get the lid back on the bottle and was lifting his shot glass to his lips. But before he could drink, Katsuki shifted in his seat, moving closer.

“Gimme that,” Katsuki said.

“What?” Izuku asked in surprise. “You usually don’t do shots.”

“Yeah, and you’re usually the responsible one, ain’t you, sensei? ” Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his voice playful. He nodded toward the shot glass in Izuku’s hand. “Give it to me.”

Izuku’s face suddenly flushed, and he wasn’t quite sure whether it was from the alcohol, or from the nickname Katsuki just called him. 

“You sure?” Izuku asked, trying to keep his voice steady. The alcohol was already working its way through him.

In one swift motion, Katsuki reached out and took the glass from Izuku’s hand. The way his fingers brushed against Izuku’s sent a jolt of electricity through him. Izuku watched as Katsuki brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip, his eyes staring deeply into Izuku’s.

When Katsuki pulled the glass away, he swallowed the liquor with barely a flinch, then handed it back to Izuku with a smirk. “For you,”

Izuku glanced at the shot glass, noticing there was still some liquor left. He brought the glass to his lips, never breaking eye contact with Katsuki. The alcohol burned like hell on its way down. 

As he set the empty glass back down on the table, the warmth in his chest spread further, blurring his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, glancing up at Katsuki again, unsure of what to make of this strange moment between them. 

“Feel better now?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat at the question. He wasn’t sure if he could even think straight anymore, but the alcohol was working its magic, making everything around him a little blurry. 

“Ask me again when you’re not spinning,” Izuku said without a thought.

Katsuki couldn’t help but smile.

Izuku had somehow ended up so close to Katsuki that their legs were pressed together, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Katsuki’s body, even through the haze of alcohol warming his own skin. One of Katsuki’s arms was slung lazily across the back of the couch, fingers just barely brushing against the nape of Izuku’s neck.

His breath hitched slightly every time Katsuki shifted, his thigh pressing more firmly against Izuku’s. If Katsuki noticed, he didn’t say anything. He just leaned back, completely at ease, gaze half-lidded, like he knew exactly what he was doing. 

The dim light in the bar cast a golden hue over everything and the air was filled with occasional clink of glasses and a lazy beat of a song none of them were paying attention to.

Denki, Ochako, and Kyoka had formed a half-circle around them leaning in with varying degrees of amusement as Izuku rambled, his words slipping out faster than he could think to filter them.

“Okay, you guys need to hear this one,” he said, shifting slightly, his knee bumping against Katsuki’s thigh as he turned to face them more fully. He took a sip off his gin tonic. “Did you guys know that— like… stardust falls to Earth every single day? Did you know? Like… These tiny little particles from comets and asteroids are just like… drifting down here through the atmosphere.” He gestured above their heads, as if it were happening right now. “And some of it lands in our hair.”

Jirou narrowed her eyes. “So I’ve got asteroid crumbs in my hair?”

“Yes! Maybe!” Izuku grinned. “Not just your hair, though.” Izuku added. “Maybe even your nose and… and lips too, maybe. You know… Thousands of tonnes of it fall every year, you know. And… And it settles onto buildings, into the ocean and onto us, too. And we don’t even notice! We can’t see the stardust, but it’s definitely here, settling on us. Isn’t that so cool?” 

“Kinda gross, actually.” Denki snorted.

“What?” Izuku squealed. “How?!”

“I don’t know,” Denki shrugged. “Isn’t space… like… super dirty?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes.

Izuku gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Dirty? Kaminari, space is the… the vast, infinite, beautiful unknown. It’s… How can it be dirty?”

Denki lazily swirled the drink in his hand. “I dunno. Like, all that dust has been floating around forever, right? Probably full of space germs or something.”

“Oh, you need to stop drinking right now.” Kyoka said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I’m just saying!” Denki protested. 

“There are no germs in space, Denki.” Izuku swung his arm wildly in Denki’s direction, nearly knocking his own glass over in the process. 

Denki blinked, clearly trying to process that through the thick haze of alcohol. “Oh… so it’s, like, clean dirt?”

Katsuki let out a loud exhale, dragging a hand down his face. “Holy shit,” he muttered, tilting his head back against the couch. “I can’t with you idiots.”

Izuku giggled, leaning against him. “See? Kacchan gets it .”

Katsuki side-eyed him, his fingers toying absentmindedly with the ends of Izuku’s curls. “Nah, I just think this is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit from you.”

Izuku gasped again. 

Katsuki smirked wider. “What? You’re drunk and getting all excited about dust.”

“It’s stardust,” Izuku corrected. “From comets, Kacchan! We’re carrying pieces of the universe in our hair and on our lips right now.”

Katsuki hummed, tilting his head slightly, his fingers brushing absently against the back of Izuku’s neck. Izuku settled his head in Katsuki’s arm and exhaled with a tired smile on his face.

“Uhh,” Denki furrowed his eyebrows and pointed at Katsuki, tilting his head toward Kyoka. “Is he…?”

Kyoka sighed. “Worry about yourself, Kaminari,”  She yanked him up by the arm and started dragging him away. “Let’s go listen to Kirishima’s motivational speech. Maybe he’ll inspire you to think before you speak.”

Ochako sat on the floor, legs curled beneath her, a smile playing on her lips as she watched the two of them for a second before leaving as well.

Neither of them noticed.

They had both leaned back against the couch, heads tilted toward each other, bodies loose and warm from the alcohol. Izuku’s curls were slipping through Katsuki’s fingers, and Katsuki kept twisting them absently, watching how they coiled around his knuckles before letting them fall back into place. 

Izuku had melted further into the touch, fingers curled loosely around his half-empty glass. His gaze was glassy, green eyes shining like emeralds against the dim glow of the room.

Katsuki had lost track of how much he’d had to drink. He wasn’t even supposed to be drinking, really, he hadn’t planned on it, but then Kirishima had started calling him a chicken for refusing a couple of shots, and there was no way in hell he was going to let that slide. So, naturally, he’d knocked back a few. Then somehow ended up with a glass of wine in his hand.

Izuku was worse off. His fifth shot was long gone, and his second gin and tonic was still swirling in his grip, half-melted ice clinking against the glass as he shifted in Katsuki’s lap—because at this point, yeah, he was basically in Katsuki’s lap. His thigh was slotted between Katsuki’s legs, the curve of his hip pressing against him.

They could both feel it.

They sat there in silence, eyes locked. Katsuki’s fingers brushed against Izuku’s neck again. Izuku’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, Katsuki thought he might say something or… do something. Instead, there was a pregnant pause, before Izuku finally spoke, his voice surprisingly steady, though the alcohol had clearly started to muddle his thoughts.

“Do you ever think about…” Izuku’s words trailed off as he tried to find the right way to finish his thought. He shifted again, his chest pressing just a little bit closer to Katsuki’s.

Katsuki kept his hand in Izuku’s hair. “What?” 

Izuku blinked, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. He leaned in closer to his ear as he whispered, “Do you ever think about me... like that ?” 

Katsuki’s heart raced. His grip on Izuku’s hair tightened before loosening again, like his body didn’t know what the fuck to do with itself. He didn’t know what to do. Izuku was too close. He smelled like expensive cologne, tinged with the sharp bite of gin and tonic. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart slamming against his chest, wanting to escape.

But fuck, he couldn’t move.

Because yes. He had thought about it. He’d thought about it more times than he could count, in moments like this when Izuku got too close, when he smiled at him a certain way, when he had his cologne on, when he laughed, when he blinked at him with those beautiful emerald eyes, when his gaze flickered at his lips before looking away. Katsuki felt it deep in his fucking bones.  

Their breaths mingled. Izuku noticed the sudden shift, and before he knew it, he cleared his voice and pulled away, letting Katsuki’s hand fall uselessly to his lap. 

Izuku drank the rest of his drink in one go and abruptly stood up. “I’ll get some fresh air,” He said quietly, standing up and unsteadily walking to the back door, which led to a small private garden. 

As the door clicked shut behind him. Katsuki stayed frozen. His racing heart was now slamming against his chest in a way that it almost physically hurt. 

He glanced up at the group.  Everyone else was still caught up in their own conversations, not noticing what had just happened. Except for one person. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows at him. 

His phone suddenly buzzed.

What was that just now?

Katsuki looked back up to shoot Shoto a glare, but he just raised a single brow, sipping his drink, completely unbothered. 

He had no answer.

What the fuck was that just now?

The small garden behind the bar was quiet, hidden away from the city, lit only by the dim glow of the windows and the stars above. Izuku sat on the wooden porch, his back slightly hunched, a cigarette slipping between his fingers. He closed his eyes as he listened to the distant hum of the river blending with the chirp of crickets. 

Katsuki lingered in the doorway, watching the slow rise and fall of Izuku’s shoulders before stepping forward, the wooden boards creaking under his weight. He lowered himself onto the porch beside him.

Izuku took a drag, exhaling slowly. His half-lidded and unfocused eyes flicked lazily toward Katsuki. “Oh, c’mon,” Katsuki muttered. “Told you to quit.”

Izuku let out a lazy hum. “Last one. Promise.”

Katsuki scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

Izuku chuckled, and without a second thought, he leaned his head against Katsuki’s shoulder, making his curls brush against his jaw.

They sat like that for a moment. Katsuki’s breath evened out as he listened to the quiet sounds of the night. But his mind was too loud. His thoughts kept circling back, over and over again, to the way Izuku had looked at him earlier. The way his voice had dropped, quiet, when he had asked—

Katsuki swallowed, shifting slightly. “So,” he finally said. “Are we just gonna let it slide?”

Izuku hummed, tilting his head. “Let what slide?”

Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose. “Don’t act stupid.”

Izuku blinked, then slowly sat up, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He stared at Katsuki for a long moment before abruptly pushing himself to his feet, swaying slightly.

Katsuki watched him with narrowed eyes as he wandered across the garden, his steps very unsteady. Katsuki was sure he was about to trip and land flat on his butt any second. He stopped in the farthest corner, where an old wooden swing hung from a low tree branch. With a lazy sort of effort, he hopped onto it, the chains creaking softly as he started to slowly rock back and forth.

Katsuki just watched.

Izuku let his head fall back, staring up at the sky, which only made his head spin even more, but it was worth it. The sky looked beautiful.

“I’ve been so tired lately,” he murmured. “Like… my brain never stops, you know? It’s always moving.” He hummed, his foot dragging lightly against the dirt to slow the swing. “And when I don’t let it slow down, weird stuff just comes out of my mouth. Stuff I don’t even mean seriously.” He turned his head slightly, meeting Katsuki’s gaze. “I just…relax like that, I guess.”

Katsuki stared at him for a long moment, something twisting in his stomach. Then, slowly, he stood up and crossed the distance between them. Izuku kept swinging slowly, watching him approach through half-lidded eyes. When Katsuki reached out, steadying the swing with one hand.

Katsuki leaned down, just enough that their faces were close. “What if you did mean it seriously?”

Izuku’s fingers curled around the chain of the swing, his lips parting slightly. His lashes fluttered. “Yeah, what if I did?” he murmured. “What would you do?”

For a second, Katsuki just stared. Since when was Izuku such a tease?

He reached forward, gently plucked the cigarette from Izuku’s lips, and before Izuku could say anything, he felt his lips being cared for by Katsuki’s in such a gentle way, that it spread a comforting warmth through Izuku’s chest. The warmth spread to his stomach, and to his legs, and to his arms and face, all the way to his lips. His skin tingled. His skin was on fire.

Izuku barely had time to think before instinct took over. His hands moved on their own, slipping around Katsuki’s waist, pulling him forward and down on his lap. Katsuki let out a quiet, surprised breath against Izuku’s lips as he lost his balance slightly, his knees hitting the swing as he settled onto Izuku’s lap.

The swing rocked beneath them, chains creaking softly.

Katsuki exhaled again, his breath ghosting over Izuku’s lips, their foreheads almost touching now. His hands found Izuku’s jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, tracing the shape of his face. He kissed him with the kind of tenderness that had been buried inside him for years, waiting for the right moment to spill out. He had been yearning for this moment since… forever.

Izuku melted under it. His fingers curled into the fabric of Katsuki’s shirt, his grip tightening and pulling him closer and closer, like he wanted to erase every bit of space between them. 

Katsuki tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his hands trailing down to Izuku’s shoulders. Izuku shivered under his touch, his breath hitching when Katsuki’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, skimming over warm skin.

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of cigarette smoke.

Katsuki could feel Izuku’s heartbeat beneath his hands. He could feel the way Izuku trembled slightly, and he couldn’t say whether it was from being too overwhelmed, or he was just feeling cold. 

After what felt like hours, Katsuki pulled back just enough to breathe.

Izuku’s glassy eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Katsuki like he wasn’t sure if this was real. Like he just woke up from an endless dream he never wanted to wake up from in the first place. He wished he could kiss him forever.

They just stared at each other.

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He simply slipped the cigarette back between Izuku’s lips. Then, without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, stepping off the swing and turning on his heel, walking toward the door. 

One would think it would be insanely awkward after that sudden make-out session. And it was. At first. For a few minutes, they didn’t look at each other. They just sat there, side by side at the bar, as if their lips hadn’t just been pressed together, as if Izuku hadn’t just pulled Katsuki into his lap. It was like the kiss had been the most normal thing to ever happen between them, but deep down, they both knew it had changed everything.

But then, gradually, the tension started to shift.

Izuku ordered another gin and tonic and Katsuki poured himself another glass of wine.

As Katsuki told the group the story of how he had to rescue a girl from a villain with a telekinesis quirk last week, Izuku sat with his elbow propped on the table, his chin resting against his fist. His gaze was locked onto Katsuki’s face as if it were the only thing that existed. 

The soft glow from the lamps wrapped around Katsuki, casting gentle streaks of light across his face, turning the blonde of his hair into a deeper, warmer hue. His crimson eyes were darker in the dim. His beautiful ruby gems that Izuku could write entire poems about. Whenever they met Izuku’s eyes, it felt like he suddenly knew all the secrets to love. 

“And so I had to use my fucking Stun Grenade to blast him off.”

“Is it true you don’t use it that often nowadays?”

“Yeah, too much pressure.”

Denki smirked. “Is he okay?” he asked the group, nodding at Izuku.

Izuku’s face was burning, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol coursing through his veins. His hands kept pressing against his face without realizing, trying to cool down the heat. He felt disoriented and the world was spinning, making him feel like he was on a carousel. His thoughts were slow, and when he tried to stand, his legs were unsteady, the room swaying around him. He grabbed the edge of the table.

Katsuki immediately slipped his hand around his waist to hold him up. “Where are we going?” 

“To go- to get a beer,” Izuku mumbled. 

His body felt heavy and he could feel the alcohol fogging his thoughts.

“Wow, you’re strong,” he said after noticing Katsuki’s hand on his waist.

“Yeah?” Katsuki rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, playful smirk playing on his lips. “How about this?”

Izuku immediately wrapped his arms around his, pressing his fingers against his big muscles. “Wow,” he said again. “I could let these muscles carry me into bed any day—”

Everyone's eyes at the table widened with shock.

“Alright,” Katsuki said, tapping his head. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Izuku said. “Don’t go.”

“Jesus, I’m not going anywhere,”  Katsuki shook his head in disbelief. He did feel a bit tipsy himself, but it could definitely not compare to Izuku hanging on his arm, rubbing his cheeks against his biceps like it was a plushie, absolutely drunk off his ass. “You don’t need another beer,” Katsuki said. “You shouldn’t drink anymore.” 

“I didn’t… I didn’t want it for… for drinking,” Izuku shook his head dramatically. “I want- Mmm…” He trailed off, unable to get the rest of the sentence out, his mind spinning. 

Katsuki kept staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. He knew Izuku too well to know where this was heading. A pounding headache was waiting for him tomorrow. Izuku never knew when to stop, no matter how many times Katsuki told him. When it came to drinking, Izuku was helpless. Katsuki was glad to watch Izuku relax whenever he got the chance, but he couldn’t help but feel worried. 

“I like- I wanted- I-” Izuku mumbled. “For… my cheeks, y’know?”

Katsuki blinked at him. “Your cheeks? You feeling hot?” 

“Yeah…” Izuku nodded slowly and tilted his head. His big glassy eyes were locked onto Katsuki’s. “Yeah, hot… It’s so hot… in here.” His voice was barely a whisper now. 

His gaze, locked onto Katsuki, was soft and almost dreamy, like he was seeing Katsuki for the first time.

And fuck, Katsuki was so in love. It hit him like a wave.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki shook his head. “I told you to stop drinking like an hour ago,” His hand rested lightly on Izuku’s shoulder now, rubbing small circles as if to soothe him. “You need to lie down or something?”

Izuku shook his head, and he muttered in a way that always made Katsuki’s chest flutter. “But I really… Mmm… I, uhh… I really like the drinks.” He pouted his lips.

“I’m sure you do,” Katsuki nodded understandingly. “But I also know you can’t stop once you start, idiot.” His hand brushed a lock of hair from Izuku’s forehead. Katsuki was so gentle, so attentive in these moments, which made Izuku’s, even in his current state, chest tighten.

Izuku shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping to Katsuki’s legs before returning to meet his eyes. “Can I… Can I squeeze in?”

Katsuki blinked. “What?”

“Like… to get the- the beer.”

“To cool you down?” Katsuki asked, to which Izuku just slowly nodded with a wide smile. “Want me to come with you?” 

“No, I’m ‘mkay.” Izuku said, though his words were slurred and unsteady.

“You’re everything but m’kay ,” Katsuki rolled his eyes, but the slight smirk never left his lips. His hand rested on Izuku’s back, steadying him. “You’re drunk off your ass.”

“Am not.” Izuku grumbled.

“Am not.” Katsuki imitated him.

“You’re so mean.” Izuku mumbled.

Katsuki scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

Izuku shifted again, pressing his forehead against the crook of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki tensed. His heart started racing again.

“You smell really nice.” Izuku muttered.

“And you’re saying weird stuff again.”

“I mean it, though.”

“So do I.” Katsuki smirked.

“Mean.”

“Drunk.”

“Boring.”

“Immature.”

Izuku pulled back just enough to look at him, his glassy green eyes locking onto Katsuki’s.

“In denial,” he said softly.

Katsuki stared. His lips parted to say something, but Izuku cut him off with a soft: “In love.”

“Huh? What? Hey,” Katsuki poked his shoulder, which made Izuku flinch and sit back up. “This ain’t funny. Plus, it’s supposed to be about you now.”

“I know.” Izuku nodded and slowly blinked his glassy eyes at him. 

Katsuki tried to form words, tried to push through the haze in his mind, but all he could do was stare at Izuku’s lips and at the way his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. 

Izuku swayed slightly, pushing himself up from his seat. His balance wavered for a second, but he steadied himself against the table with a lazy smile. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing toward the bathroom.

Katsuki didn’t move. He just sat there, frozen, Izuku’s words playing over and over in his head.

In love.

His mind raced back to high school, to the first time he had realized. That day they had broken the rules, stepped outside and fought at Ground Beta after dark, when their teachers thought they were in their rooms resting. Katsuki had never been able to forget it. The moment when Izuku sat on the ground and they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, as if trying to find the way to the other one’s heart.

It’s been years and they were on the best terms possible now. He couldn’t risk being the reason it all fell apart. He couldn’t ruin it just because he thought that Izuku could ever like him back.

In love.

It’s supposed to be about you now.

I know.

Izuku was in love. 

With him? 

There was no way.

Izuku had been his everything for so long. He’d been in love with him for so long it hurt, and he’d hidden it, trying to convince himself that their bond was just friendship and that nothing more was possible. 

He was almost sure Izuku’s confession wasn’t directed at him. It wasn’t a confession to Katsuki. It was to someone else, someone else who held Izuku’s heart. 

Without thinking, Katsuki bolted off the couch. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest as he made his way toward the bathroom. It wasn’t the place he’d ever imagined confessing his feelings, but the courage the alcohol had given him was slipping away quickly, and he couldn’t afford to wait anymore.

He slowly pushed the door open, making sure not to alarm Izuku. Inside, he could hear the faint sound of Izuku talking. His voice was soft, as if he was speaking to himself.

Katsuki furrowed his brows, feeling a surge of unease. He stepped closer to the stall.

“I love you. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner... but something finally clicked for me. I genuinely can’t handle just being friends anymore.” 

Katsuki’s heart stopped. His throat tightened as his breath hitched. He stepped back, completely still. It wasn’t meant for him. It wasn’t meant for him at all, but it felt like every word was aimed directly at his heart, shattering it.

Izuku continued, his words slipping out in a soft, desperate tone. “Can we meet tonight at my place? I… I need you. Please.”

Katsuki’s world crumbled. It shattered like glass.

Frozen, he stood there, listening to Izuku’s voice, his heart sinking further into a pit of anguish. Who was Izuku speaking to? Who held his heart in such a way that Izuku felt the need to confess like this?

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps made him snap out of his daze. Izuku emerged from the stall, his phone still pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw Katsuki standing there, frozen in the doorway, he flinched. His eyes widened in shock, and he quickly clicked something on his phone, muttering a quiet, “Crap.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened painfully as he watched Izuku, the confusion written all over his face.Izuku shifted uneasily, glancing between Katsuki and his phone, his fingers twitching nervously.

“Who were you on the phone with just now?”

Izuku avoided Katsuki’s eyes by glancing at the floor. “Uh… no one, Kacchan, what are you talking about?”

“Listen, this is your business, but I need to know. Who was it?” Katsuki asked, his heartbeat picking up on speed.

Izuku hesitated, running a hand through his messy hair. “You just said it’s my business.”

Katsuki’s heart was pounding in his ears, the hurt spreading through him like wildfire. That fucking hurt. Katsuki’s voice trembled slightly as he asked, “Who was it, Izuku?” 

His chest felt like it was collapsing under the desire to be the one Izuku needed.

Izuku opened his mouth, as though he was about to say something, but before he could, Katsuki’s phone buzzed with a notification. Izuku’s eyes immediately darted to the phone in his hand. 

“Not important right now,” Katsuki said.

Izuku’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What if it’s an emergency?” he asked.

Katsuki groaned under his breath, already knowing that whatever it was, it didn’t matter right now. He unlocked the phone. 

A new voicemail notification blinked on the screen. Okay, people wouldn’t leave him voicemails if it wasn’t anything important. Katsuki glanced up at Izuku, sighed and pressed play.

The sound of Izuku’s voice filled the space between them. His voice sounded slurred, as if he was speaking into the phone without any care for how it might sound. 

“Hi... I know I’m really drunk, but I need to tell you, Kacchan…” Izuku’s voice whispered. Katsuki stood still, the phone gripped tightly in his hand. “I’d never have the courage to tell you this eye to eye, not today at least, with everything that happened... But I like you. A lot. And I know you might not feel the same, but... I love you.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched in his throat.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but something finally clicked for me. I genuinely can’t handle just being friends anymore. Can we meet tonight at my place? I... I need you. Please. I—”

The message cut off abruptly, and there was a soft sound, as if Izuku had cursed and tapped the screen.

Katsuki stood frozen, unable to breathe. Izuku confessed.

To him.

The world felt like it was tilting, but he was suddenly sober. His heart was pounding so hard, he could hear it in his ears, but it wasn’t the adrenaline of anger or frustration anymore. His chest was heavy, suffocating under the weight of all the emotions that flooded through him.

"I love you." 

His body moved before his mind could think. The words still echoed in his mind as he took a step closer to Izuku, staring deep into his eyes. “So, stardust,” He started. “You said it lands everywhere. It settles onto buildings, into the ocean and onto us, too. Right?”

Izuku blinked, his breath hitching as he recalled the conversation from earlier. “Yeah…” 

“And some of it lands in our hair. But not just our hair, though.” Katsuki was practically reciting everything Izuku had said before, as if he memorized it like a poem. 

A poem about stardust, the unspoken words of love. 

“It settles on our hair. Our lips. Even if we don’t see it, it’s there.” Katsuki’s voice was becoming almost a whisper. He didn’t recognize the sound of his own words, the way his heart pounded in his chest, the way the world around him felt like it had ceased to exist. Is this how it feels to be truly, deeply in love? he wondered. 

His words weren’t about stardust at all. They were about the things they had carried in silence for years. The words that had waited for a moment just like this to rise to the surface. In those words, Katsuki was offering his whole heart, that would forever belong to Izuku.

“Kiss the stardust away, Kacchan.”