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There were a lot of things about Izuku Midoriya that pissed Katsuki off.
The way he dared to act mesmerized by Katsuki’s voice, only to ignore him the second he told him to get in the water. The way his eyes never left Katsuki – like nothing in the world could be more important. The way he played the weak, easy target, just to fuck with Katsuki’s head.
But Katsuki saw through him. Saw the raw strength beneath the oblivious act, the power Izuku pretended not to have.
He couldn’t wait to watch him drown.
➀
Katsuki was chilling on a rock, basking in the warmth, just on the edge of slipping into a glorious nap – until some idiot started yelling at him.
He cracked one eye open, already irritated, and found himself staring at a green-haired guy standing in a boat below, looking up at him with concern.
“Hey! Are you alright? Do you need help?” the guy called. “Are you dehydrated? Should I get up there? Because I will! That looks like a pretty steep rock – wait, how’d you even get up there? Oh no, don’t tell me yesterday’s storm washed you up, and you’ve been stuck all da–”
“Leave me alone,” Katsuki mumbled, voice barely carrying over the water. He shut his eye again, hoping that would be enough to make the guy shut up and row off.
It wasn’t.
“Hellooo? Sir? Are you sure you're okay? Do you need me to he–”
“I do not need any help, you fucking nerd,” Katsuki growled, cracking both eyes open now. “And stop talking. I’m fine.”
That should’ve been the end of it. But then he realized – fuck, why did he say that? He should be luring this guy in, not scaring him off.
So he hummed. The melody rolled off his tongue like a second nature, effortless. But instead of the usual plunge of his victim hitting the water, nothing followed.
Weird.
Frustrated, Katsuki pushed himself up just enough to make proper eye contact, and the guy met his gaze with wide, curious eyes – completely unaffected.
“What do you want, freckles?” he muttered, still trying to figure out what was wrong.
“What do I want?” the guy echoed, frowning. “You’re the one stuck on the rock!”
… Right. Well. If this guy tried to climb up, he’d probably slip and crack his skull open. That worked.
“Could you, uh, climb up here to me?” Katsuki hummed again, testing.
The guy nodded, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and steered his boat closer.
Katsuki blinked. … What exactly was this guy planning to do once he got up there?
He chose not to question it. Whatever plan this guy had wouldn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to get that far.
Somehow, the guy got that far.
Huffing and puffing, he finally hauled himself onto the rock and collapsed beside Katsuki, catching his breath. Katsuki just watched, unimpressed.
Okay, well, surely once he actually looked at him – saw the tail, the scales, the gills, – he’d freak out and launch himself right back into the water. That worked, too.
Yet instead of recoiling in horror, the guy stared at him in awe.
“Who are you?” he whispered, eyes filled with something Katsuki couldn’t quite place.
He wasn’t even looking at the parts that should’ve been alarming. Instead, his gaze traced Katsuki’s moles, the scar on his cheek, his slit eyebrow, his chapped lips – oh, this guy had nerve.
“I’m… the son of Nereus,” Katsuki scoffed, hoping confidence would carry the lie. “Couldn’t you tell?”
The guy tilted his head, still fixated on his lips – he really had nerve staring at him like that. “I asked who you are. Don’t sea gods have names?”
“Katsuki,” he gaped, deciding that ending this conversation was now the new goal.
“Kacchan?” the guy echoed, confused.
“You fuckin’ deaf? That’s not my –”
He stopped himself, the guy looked… hurt.
And logistically, if Katsuki hurt him with his words, then he couldn’t kill him – because he wouldn’t listen to his song.
Fine.
“You can call me whatever you want if you tell me your name, freckles,” he hummed, grinning now, just to test a different kind of reaction.
The guy’s face turned a deeper shade. Hah.
“Izuku,” he mumbled.
“Hmm,” Katsuki smirked. “I prefer freckles.”
➁
"Morning Kacchan!"
There he was, the wolf in sheep’s clothing. The pure sight of him filled Katsuki with nothing but rage.
"Hey gorgeous," he grinned, his smirk widening when he caught sight of the man’s flushed face.
Izuku lowered the anchor over the bow of his fisher boat. “You’re still here,” he remarked. “Why?”
“This is my spot, mortal, why are you here?”
“Thought I’d find you here,” Izuku smiled, and it made his eyes wrinkle. “Thought right, apparently.”
Such a cocky little thing – Katsuki couldn’t wait to see the sea pull him down to its sandy surface. Oh right, he should probably try to achieve that goal – new day, new opportunities and all that.
Whatever happened the day prior couldn’t possibly still get in his way.
Once again, he closed his eyes and he started singing. The tone was more melancholic, more gloomy, but beautiful nonetheless. The sound of the waves clashing in on one another and the wind blowing past the ships’ sail made up the backing vocals of his melody.
Katsuki got lost in the moment, smiling to himself, letting his voice carry him wherever it wanted. The tune ended on an elongated low note, stretching until there was no air left in his lungs.
“You look gorgeous, Kacchan.”
This fucker was still here?!
Katsuki ignored the comment. It almost felt like a mockery, like his song was so weak it wasn’t even worth listening to – leave alone, drowning to.
“Why won’t you join me in the water, Izuku?” He spoke his name in the same low tone he had just sung in, hoping it would provoke a reaction. Of course, it did not.
“Oh – no thanks! I prefer my feet on the ground!”
“You know, we could swim around together, I could show you the prettiest spots…”
“Hmm, no, that’s alright! I actually had a question.”
“You have… a question… for me… and that’s why you came here?” Katsuki’s tone was flat and monotone, as he had completely given up on the idea of him persuading the man with just a faint hum.
No, it had to be bigger, stronger,... unignorable.
Izuku nodded, big eyes drilling into Katsuki’s, who realised the man was waiting for confirmation that he could ask the question. He threw a halfhearted finger gun at Izuku, indicating he could shoot.
“Don’t you have, like, fifty sisters? What’s that like – I’ve always been an only child, I can barely imagine how having a sibling would feel.”
Right, he had told him he was the only brother of the Nereids, so he was supposed to know what that felt like. But Katsuki had always been alone, raised by his own self from the day he opened his eyes. He didn’t know what it was like to have siblings – he barely knew what it was like to have friends.
What he did know, were the stories. He knew all the stories – his only constant in this cold, ruthless whirl of loneliness. And so, he told Izuku all he knew about the Nereids and their brother, all the tales that had reached him through the warm currents of the ocean.
Katsuki noticed how animated Izuku became when talked, his arms always moving, his upper body swaying with them – yet his eyes… his eyes never strayed from Katsuki’s. Not until he stopped talking, patiently waiting for Katsuki to respond. That was when his gaze would shift, locking on the siren’s lips instead.
He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it. It just happened. And every time Izuku broke the silent pull between their eyes, it filled Katsuki with inexplicable rage.
Before they knew it, the moon was hanging high above the water, and they were still talking.
Katsuki didn’t make a single attempt to get Izuku in the water.
He… got distracted.
➂
The next time Izuku showed up, three days had passed since their last encounter. Katsuki had assumed he had drowned somewhere, elsewhere – seemed like something that mortal would do out of sheer spite.
But no, Izuku returned once again in his little fisher boat, smiling with the most idiotic look in his eyes. The sight of him already enraged Katsuki.
The sun was setting, an orange hue cast across Izuku’s green curls as he sat on a rock at the coast, toes dabbling in the water. Once again, he was mocking Katsuki.
Katsuki gracefully – gracefully – wobbled his way over to sit next to him, the end of his tail tickling Izuku’s leg from time to time.
“You know, there’s a whole world out there, my world,” he started, and he felt familiar eyes drop to his lips. “I’d love to show it to you.”
“I’d love to come with, Kacchan, but I can’t swim.”
“... That wouldn’t be an issue.”
Izuku laughed, and the sound caused a flutter in Katsuki’s chest – a flutter of rage.
“You know, I wish I could show you my hometown too,” Izuku sighed, his gaze fixed on the golden glow on the water. It made his eyes sparkle. “My mom and I actually live in the outskirts, and I rarely go to the centre. But when I do, it’s nice. The Great Dionysia is happening in a few days, you know, the theatrical event –”
“I know about one of the biggest festivals your people have made up, mortal, I live in the ocean, not under a rock.”
“Right, sorry, you live on a rock, totally different.”
He laughed again, his smile widening, like no part of him wanted to hold it back – like all of him was true around Katsuki. (But the siren knew it was an act, a man so innocent and perfect had to be hiding something. It pissed him off that he couldn’t read him and find out what it was.)
“You were saying?” Katsuki asked, although not entirely sure why – talking about their hometowns wouldn’t get him closer to Izuku’s head dipping underwater.
“Oh yeah, I’d love to participate – and one day I will, I swear! I’ll become the greatest poet, and my words will inspire countless generations to come!”
As he spoke, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to brighten, like his enthusiasm transferred into a thousand stars reflecting on a deep sea of green.
“So why don’t you now, freckles?” Katsuki mumbled, and he resisted the urge to grab Izuku’s jaw and revert those eyes back to him, where they belonged. If he wasn’t going to drown to his song, the least he could do was drown in his eyes, after all.
Katsuki wasn’t quite sure where that thought came from, or why. He ignored it.
“I’ve got my mom to take care of. I can’t just leave for days on end to follow a dumb dream of mine. It would be selfish.”
Such a selfless creature, this human was.
Katsuki held back the urge to groan.
“Aren’t you away from your dear mother right now?” he smirked, a teasing tone in his voice.
“Well, that’s different, you’re here.”
Katsuki failed to understand the relevance of that.
“I think you’re scared of failing before you’ve even tried,” he said instead . “It’s got nothing to do with your mom, does it?”
Izuku didn’t answer, but the way his jaw clenched told Katsuki enough.
“That’s bullshit. At least try before you give up. You’re probably better than most of those bastards at the festival anyway.”
A beat of silence, then –
“Thanks, Kacchan,” Izuku murmured. His gaze flickered between Katsuki’s eyes and lips, like he couldn’t decide where to land.
Katsuki clicked his tongue. “It’s getting dark, freckles.”
“It is,” Izuku replied, gaze now fully fixed on the siren’s eyes.
“You should head home, poet – wouldn’t want you face-planting over some damn pebbles in the dark.” (He should only be face-planting into the ocean, of course.)
Even against the sunless horizon, Katsuki could still make out the blush dusting the freckled apples of his cheeks when he called him poet. He himself wasn’t quite sure why he did it either, but he got the reaction he wanted.
“Yeah, I should,” Izuku sighed, propping himself up. He gave Katsuki a soft smile and added, “I had a nice time talking, Kacchan.”
“You, uhm – come back tomorrow,” Katsuki mumbled, facing away from the man.
Izuku quirked his head. “What?”
“I said,” Katsuki replied, teeth-gritted, fully facing Izuku because he was no coward. “You should come back tomorrow. To talk again.”
The fisherman’s eyes lit up, “I need to be in town during the day, but I can get here in the evening!”
“You better, Izuku.”
Katsuki watched Izuku disappear into the distance, obscured by trees and bushes. He grinned to himself, knowing he had an absolute foolproof plan to kill the motherfucker the next day.
➃
“Kouta.”
Silence.
“Kouta.” Katsuki tries again, annoyance clear in his tone.
“What do you want, fish.”
“Don’t call me that, brat.” Katsuki spat instantly – but then he sighed, realising he had to be nicer if he wanted the nymph to do him a favour. “I need your help, kid.”
Kouta pouted thoughtfully. “What’s in it for me?”
Of course, that’s what he was wondering about before even knowing what he had to do.
Katsuki grinned. “I’ll fetch you some brown seaweeds, you know, the ones that grow at great depths that you love to eat, but can’t reach?”
The sea nymphs eyes grew wide, and he returned the smile. “Deal.”
Katsuki knew a few things about the human Izuku Midoriya.
He knew Izuku could ramble for hours, and stare at Katsuki for longer. He was fascinated with the world – both Katsuki’s and his own. He longed to be a poet, though he was too scared to actually pursue it. Katsuki knew the man had a sassier side, one he didn’t let slip often, but it was there nonetheless. And he was strong, stronger than he seemed to realise himself.
But above all, Katsuki knew Izuku was kind. Aiding. He would never refuse to help a poor, innocent child in need.
And so, his plan had been set in motion; Kouta had tangled himself into the mess of a lost fishnet, thrashing like a helpless idiot, just as planned. Katsuki circled beneath the water, deep enough to stay hidden, eyes locked on the surface as he waited. The moment he spotted the familiar shape of Izuku’s fishing boat breaking through the waterline, he pushed himself up and slipped behind one of the larger rocks along the coast, settling in to watch.
Right on cue, Kouta started screaming like his life depended on it.
“HELP! SOMEONE – HELP ME, PLEASE!” His wailing tore through the otherwise quiet evening, shrill and panicked.
Izuku, naturally, reacted exactly as Katsuki expected. “Are you okay? Oh – obviously you're not, sorry, dumb question –” He was already moving, steering the boat closer. “You seem stuck. Are you hurt? Would you be okay if I got you out of the net, or do I need to get you to the coa – again, stupid question. You have a tail. You can swim. Okay. Let me think. I'll get you out of here, just please stop panicking – if you move too much, you might get stuck even more or hurt yourself!”
Kouta didn’t listen. He just kept screaming, kept thrashing.
Katsuki was almost impressed. How the hell was Izuku able to think through that kind of nonstop noise?
He watched as Izuku manoeuvred the boat as close as possible to Kouta, then hurried to one of his crates, rummaging around before pulling out a thick cord. Without hesitation, he tied it around himself, securing it to one of those dock knots on the boat. Katsuki narrowed his eyes. What the fuck is he doing now?
Then Izuku stepped onto the edge of the boat, took a deep breath, closed his eyes –
And let himself fall.
The rope snapped taut, keeping him dangling just above the waterline.
Katsuki blinked. What the actual fuck.
Izuku struggled with the net, fingers working quickly despite the awkward angle. It took shorter than Katsuki expected – which still was incredibly long, but eventually, Kouta wriggled free. He paused for a second, looking around like he wasn't sure what to do now that he wasn’t trapped anymore. Then, hesitantly, he tugged at Izuku’s arm (probably with all his force, too, the small bastard), but nothing happened. Izuku just smiled, bright as ever.
“It’s okay! You’re okay now!”
Kouta muttered a small thanks, hesitated a second longer, then took off, swimming past Katsuki with a smirk. “Waiting for that brown seaweed, man.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. He had better things to do.
He surfaced, making his way towards Izuku as casually as possible, trying to act like he hadn’t just been watching all of that unfold. “Tch. Idiot.” He peeked his head out of the water and greeted him, but Izuku was still facing the other way, too busy untying himself to notice. Katsuki huffed, turned, and launched himself up onto his usual rock. The movement sent a splash of water in Izuku’s direction.
“Hey! I didn’t see you!” Izuku laughed, shaking some of the water from his arms. He was smiling wide, like nothing had just happened – like he hadn’t almost flung himself into a potential drowning situation for a complete stranger.
Katsuki quirked a brow, watching him. “You’re something else.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Katsuki exhaled sharply and patted the rock beside him. “You joining me or what?”
Izuku grinned and hoisted himself up. Katsuki had hoped – maybe this time – that Izuku would finally lose his balance and slip, but of course he didn’t. The bastard was too steady, too careful, too stupidly lucky.
That night, they talked about the different things they’d seen in life. Neither of them had ever really left their birthplace, so their stories weren’t exactly vast, but they went over every small detail like it was the most important thing in the world. Katsuki laid on his back, hands behind his head, eyes closed – but he could still feel Izuku’s gaze on him. A quiet, lingering presence.
Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, his own body betrayed him. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d never even been able to sleep around another living being before.
But that night, on that rock, with Izuku beside him, he did.
Weird.
➄
Katsuki woke up to the warmth of the sun pressing against his skin, heating the damp surface of the rock beneath him. He was alone.
Fuck.
He had been so sure last night would work.
Scowling, he pushed himself off the rock and slipped into the water, the cool rush doing nothing to drown out his frustration. He swam in slow circles, mind whirling with irritation and – admittedly – desperation.
Because this was getting ridiculous.
Pride be damned, if his fifth attempt at murder failed, then maybe he should just give up and find a new target. A kid, maybe. Or some drunk, middle-aged bastard who wouldn’t even realize he was drowning until it was too late. Something easy.
But that wasn’t what he needed to think about right now.
Right now, he needed to figure out how to kill one particularly annoying mortal.
Katsuki dove deeper, slipping through the jagged cliffs into a hidden cove below. He let himself drift, weightless in the dark, and replayed the night before in his head. And as he did, he came to a realization.
Yesterday’s plan had been absurd. A goddamn net. What was he, a fisherman? If he had to resort to something so pathetic a second time, then Izuku had already won by default.
No.
That wasn’t how this was going to go.
He would do things the right way – the old way. The way sirens had always done.
Katsuki would sing. His melody would drag Izuku down. He would pour everything into it – emotion, power, the kind of passion that couldn’t be ignored. There was no fucking way Izuku could resist him again.
Izuku arrived later that night.
And the moment Katsuki saw him, he felt something dangerous curl in his chest.
Excitement.
Not because he liked seeing the mortal. No. It was because he was finally going to drown him. Obviously.
Izuku’s boat drifted to its usual spot, the anchor thrown overboard before he even bothered to look for Katsuki. The cocky bastard knew he was there.
And sure enough, the second the anchor settled, Izuku’s head snapped toward Katsuki, green eyes alight with something unbearably warm. His cheeks were rounded, eyebrows raised, lips pursed but still curling at the edges – one of his excited smiles. Specifically, the kind that said, I have something to tell you.
Katsuki tilted his head. “Hey there, freckles. Tell me.”
A quick flash of an even wider grin, and then Izuku took a breath. “Okay, so, I was talking to my mother, and – you were right.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “I am scared of failing. And it is bullshit. So…” He exhaled sharply, like he was still processing his own words. “I think I’m going to participate in the festival. Thanks to you.”
Katsuki smiled.
“Damn right, poet.”
His voice was softer than he meant it to be. Gentler. He didn’t know why. It just… did that around Izuku.
Izuku hesitated for half a second, then sucked in a sharp breath – like he was psyching himself up for something. Before Katsuki could ask what, Izuku lunged forward and wrapped him in a hug.
The world tilted.
Izuku pressed against him, his face tucked into Katsuki’s collarbone, nose barely grazing his neck. They were so, so close.
This was it.
Katsuki inhaled, parted his lips, and let a note slip free.
It started high and clear, ringing in the space between them before it slowly, steadily, melted into something deeper, richer. His voice vibrated against Izuku’s cheek, their skin brushing as Katsuki hummed through his song, letting it stretch long and perfect.
And Izuku –
Izuku just stayed.
He didn’t pull away, didn’t question it, didn’t just jump in the water and drown like he was supposed to.
If anything, he leaned in closer.
Katsuki’s humming faltered, then trailed into silence. He stared down at Izuku, breath catching in his throat. Izuku stared back with innocent eyes, and something in Katsuki just… burned.
“I don’t get you,” he muttered, frustration coiling tight in his chest. “Do you get a kick out of this? Who the fuck even are you?”
He shoved Izuku off.
Izuku stumbled back, and his voice cracked. “What do you mean, who am I? You know who I am, Katsuki.”
No nickname. That… stung. Why did it sting?
“I know who you pretend to be,” Katsuki snapped. “Some helpless little human who’s all nice and dandy, but you keep coming back just to humiliate me. To mock me.” He scoffed, and then his voice went more quiet, fragile. “You’re cruel to me, Izuku.”
Izuku’s brows furrowed. “Mock you? How am I mocking you?”
Katsuki clenched his jaw. “Is my song really that weak that you can withstand it even when you’re pressed against its core?”
The words came out raw, unfiltered. Too vulnerable. Too much.
“...Kacchan.”
His name was spoken softly, almost like a realization. Izuku’s gaze locked onto his, unwavering.
“This is the closest I’ve gotten to hearing your song,” he said. “But its power always stood out to me. And that power will never fade – the day your sound is weak is the day I will finally hear it.”
Katsuki stilled.
Oh.
Everything clicked into place.
“…You’re deaf, aren’t you?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re reading my lips.”
Izuku’s breath hitched.
“I was scared that if you knew, you’d stop trying to kill me,” he admitted. “And then you’d have no reason to see me anymore.”
“You knew I was trying to kill you?”
Izuku laughed, the sound fond. “As believable as the idea of you being a god might be – yeah. I knew you’re a siren.”
“Then why?”
Izuku tilted his head, expression soft. “Why return, you mean?”
He exhaled, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “Because you’re stuck in my head, Kacchan. I can’t get you out. I feel dull when I’m not here, with you. Everything in my life is the same. It’s boring. But you…” His gaze flickered, searching. “You are exciting.”
Katsuki didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Huh,” he finally muttered. Even that barely made it out.
They sat in silence.
At some point, Izuku shifted closer again, his leg brushing against Katsuki’s tail. There was still something left unsaid – Katsuki could feel it – but he didn’t know what it was.
So instead, he said, “It’s getting dark, freckles.”
And for some reason, it made him feel like a coward.
Izuku’s expression fell, just slightly. Why did it fall?
“Yeah, I know,” he murmured. “Goodnight, Kacchan.”
His voice was quiet. Low. Sad.
And he didn’t look back as he stepped onto his boat and sailed home.
Katsuki watched him disappear into the horizon, a strange knot tightening in his stomach.
➅
Izuku didn’t return for three days. Three long days.
For some reason, Katsuki felt like it was his fault.
He did call him cruel, and he did try to kill him – multiple times, at that. But that wasn't when Izuku got sad. It didn't make sense.
Finally, after three agonizing days, the boat came back.
Katsuki watched from his usual perch, but something was off. The boat took a slightly different route, straying further than usual. Normally, Izuku would’ve turned already. Instead, he just kept going.
“Just passing through, don’t bother, Kacchan,” he yelled over the waves, as if he knew Katsuki was there, staring, without even having to look himself.
Don’t bother?
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Hey?!” Katsuki shouted, then realized how useless that was with the man so far away. His tail flicked violently before he launched himself off the rock, cutting through the water with sharp, desperate strokes. When he reached the boat, he gave its side a fierce stomp with his tail, causing it to rock violently. Above him, Izuku yelped, cursing as he scrambled for balance.
“Look at me, Izuku.”
Katsuki’s voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly, the thought that Izuku couldn’t hear the tremble in it was almost comforting. But the force of the impact made Izuku look down, his green eyes wide, curious, hesitant.
“I need you to look at me. And I’ve needed it since before yesterday.” Since before I knew that was the only way for us to talk.
Izuku’s lips parted slightly, but he stayed silent. His eyes were locked onto Katsuki’s lips, waiting, expecting more.
Katsuki clenched his fists. Hadn’t he been open enough? Vulnerable enough? He had never shown himself to be this weak around someone. It terrified him. And still, he continued.
“I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what I did. Worst of all, I don’t understand why I care – but I do. So please, please tell me.”
Izuku let out a shaky breath that sounded a lot like, “Kacchan.”
Katsuki swallowed hard. “Get on the rock with me, Izuku. Talk to me. While close to me. I need you to be close to me.”
He sounded like he was begging. He was begging, but he didn’t care anymore. Maybe he’d been begging for longer than he’d like to admit.
Katsuki didn’t wait for an answer. He just turned and swam back to his rock, hauling himself up without looking back. Katsuki sat down facing away from the water, arms tightly wrapped around his tail. He didn’t want to watch the boat slowly… get closer? Get away? He didn’t know, and for just a few more seconds, he could linger in that unknown.
Then he heard it. The unmistakable sound of a boat getting closer. And he smiled to himself.
He waited for the sound of Izuku huffing as he pushed himself up the final stretch of the rock – but it never came.
Instead, something horrifying. A possibility he had completely forgotten about.
A plunge.
Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat. It took him a few seconds to process what that meant, and by the time he did, Izuku was already meters below the surface.
He was panicking, arms flailing wildly, legs kicking in frantic, useless motions. His mouth was open in a silent scream, air escaping in grotesque bubbles, his precious breath dwindling far too fast.
And Katsuki realised.
This… wasn’t what he wanted.
Why would he want this?
A human death had never looked so gruesome before. So raw. So wrong. And before he could even understand what that meant, his body moved on its own.
He dove.
The water blurred everything, but he didn’t need clarity to find Izuku. He reached him in seconds, wrapping strong arms around his torso. Izuku was still struggling, still gasping, his eyes wide and desperate.
“Izuku,” Katsuki said, voice clear even in the water. “Please, save your breath. I’ve got you.”
Izuku stared at him again with those big, green eyes, pupils blown wide. And then –
Oh.
Izuku moved closer, pressing his lips to Katsuki’s.
It was innocent. Hasty. A collision more than anything, their lips meeting for only a moment, Izuku’s weak arms clinging to Katsuki like he was the only thing keeping him alive. Which, to be fair, he was.
Katsuki kicked upwards, swimming fast, Izuku still wrapped tightly in his hold. And as they broke through the surface, gasping, he realised – he was an idiot.
He dragged Izuku to the shallows, placing him at the most shallow point of the coast. The moment his body touched the sand, Izuku passed out.
Katsuki stayed with him.
The quiet hum of the waves filled the silence, the gentle rise and fall of Izuku’s chest a comfort Katsuki hadn’t expected. He traced his freckles – the ones on his face, then his arms. He wondered if they covered his entire body. His cheeks were still flushed, not from a dumb remark Katsuki had made, like usual, but from the rush of blood that came with almost dying. Katsuki traced the cheeks with his thumb, brushing over them as to convey a sense of comfort. His lips were stripped of their usual pink hue, tinged with purple instead. Katsuki studied the scars swirling around both of Izuku’s arms, and thought about how he had never asked how he got those.
Something burned inside him. And for the first time, it wasn’t rage. It was something else. Something telling him he had to know everything about this man. Maybe it had never been rage in the first place.
He waited. Spent a long time just taking in everything that was Izuku. Katsuki wasn’t sure when the sun had set, but the moon was now glistening high above them. He’d spent hours just looking at the poet, and he didn’t mind.
Then, Izuku’s nose crunched slightly. His jaw twitched. His eyes fluttered open.
“Kacchan.” His voice was weak, still heavy with exhaustion.
Katsuki exhaled. “Hey. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re with me.”
He laid down beside Izuku, close enough that their breaths mingled in the night air.
“Why did you do that?”
“It wasn’t what I wanted,” Katsuki murmured.
Izuku let out a sharp, desperate breath. “What?”
“Shit,” Katsuki cursed, his words clearer now, more pronounced. “I said… I realised that wasn’t what I wanted. Seeing you go down, it horrified me. I don’t want to see you like that ever again.”
Izuku’s eyes never strayed from his lips. “So what do you want, Kacchan?”
His voice was low. Electric.
“I want you.”
The words left him before he could process them. But he didn’t care – they were true.
“In what way?”
Katsuki hesitated. He let the moment stretch, preparing himself for… he didn’t even know.
“Any way you’ll have me.”
Only then did Izuku look back up to meet his eyes, a fond smile forming on his lips. And then, finally, he closed the distance between them again.
It was so much better than before.
Still innocent, still inexperienced despite their age – but this time, there was no hesitation. Katsuki felt the warmth of Izuku’s lips pressing softly against his own, a slow, careful movement that sent a shiver down his spine. The kiss was tender, not desperate or rushed, just… pure. Izuku sighed quietly against his mouth, and Katsuki felt it, the way his lips parted slightly, just enough for their breaths to mix in the space between them.
Katsuki’s hand, still wet with seawater, came up to cup Izuku’s cheek. His thumb brushed over warm, freckled skin, tracing the shape of his face as if memorizing it, as if trying to understand why it felt so right. Izuku leaned into his touch, tilting his head to deepen the kiss ever so slightly, and Katsuki swore his heart nearly stopped.
The rhythm was slow, unhurried, like the rolling waves beneath them. Like neither of them wanted to break the moment. Izuku’s fingers ghosted over Katsuki’s shoulder, hesitant at first, then firmer as he held onto him, as if grounding himself. The heat between them wasn’t the same as before – it wasn’t fire or fury, but something warmer, steadier. Something Katsuki didn’t have a name for.
When they finally pulled away, it was only by a fraction. Their foreheads remained pressed together, breath mingling, eyes half-lidded and dazed.
And there it was again – that burning feeling in Katsuki’s chest.
This time, he embraced it.