Lori
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FIC - "Every Sunset is a Promise"
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 16:00:00 +0000 UTCBKDKBK | post-canon | pro heroes | getting together | beach holiday | fluff
Class A on a beach holiday before going their separate ways post-graduation, with Katsuki resolved to confess to Izuku before the end of their getaway.
==
EVERY SUNSET IS A PROMISE
Katsuki arrived last at the beach house. The sun was setting, the sky a dark bruise above the horizon.
‘Beach house’ was a bit of an understatement. It was three stories of white sandstone and terracotta roof tiles, with a courtyard framed in Grecian columns that opened directly onto a large stretch of pristine, privately owned beach. It was the Yaoyorozu family’s most ‘modest’ beachfront property.
The front door had been left unlocked for him. Katsuki would’ve berated anyone else for the security oversight, but a house full of pro heroes didn’t have to worry about much. Inside, he cocked an eyebrow at all the gleaming surfaces before heading upstairs. He’d been assigned the ‘seashell’ room, which he’d be sharing with Izuku, Sato, and Todoroki.
It wasn’t hard to find. A large conch shell had been affixed to the door. With a glance around the empty hallway, he rolled his small suitcase inside. Two large bunk beds were tucked into each corner, flanked on either side by beige dressers with angel wing seashells for drawer handles. Three of the beds had been claimed, suitcases and bags either neatly stacked (Todoroki) or sloppily tossed (Izuku and Sato) onto plush comforters.
Through the window, it was easy to spot where everyone had gone. The room overlooked the courtyard, where fairy lights and lanterns had been strung from the columns. His former classmates occupied patio furniture, beach chairs, or towels, spread haphazardly around a long, oval fire pit.
Katsuki hadn’t brought much so it was quick work to unpack his things and change into shorts and a graphic tee.
Everyone looked up when Katsuki shoved open the glass doors to the courtyard. He snorted, half expecting the swell of music to accompany his arrival. He wouldn’t even be surprised if Yaomomo’s parents kept a live orchestra on standby.
“Bakugo!” shouted an exuberant Kirishima from where he lounged on a white wicker loveseat. Ashido was in his lap, waving madly, as if they hadn’t seen each other just last weekend.
“Best Jeanist finally let you leave?” Sato asked between popping tiny, gourmet cake squares in his mouth.
He shrugged one shoulder, a quick scan revealing only a few faces missing. As they exchanged small talk, his muscles began to slowly unwind, the familiar murmur of their voices washing over him. They’d graduated from UA almost half a year ago, but this was the first time he’d seen quite a few of them since.
“He’s on the beach,” Kaminari suddenly said, a stupid grin splitting his face.
It took a second for Katsuki to realize he was speaking to him. “What?”
“Izuku,” Jirou added, her teasing smile eerily similar to Kaminari’s. Gross. She was supposed to be rubbing off on Dunce Face, not the other way around.
He sneered, only a little annoyed that he’d been caught looking around for the nerd. But he still strode past them to where smooth stone tiles turned to warm sand. He left his sandals behind, enjoying the way his toes sank into the sand.
The lights didn’t reach very far beyond the courtyard, but he spotted two figures perched on a large chunk of driftwood. Although his bare feet were silent against the sand, the two still sensed his approach. A good thing because Katsuki would’ve given them hell for letting someone sneak up on them.
Todoroki lifted a hand in greeting, but Katsuki barely noticed. All of his attention was stolen by Izuku and the smile that lit his face. Katsuki paused, breath catching as he committed to memory the image of Izuku limned in emerging moonlight, windblown curls a silver halo against a navy sky and the dark swathe of ocean.
“Kacchan, you made it,” Izuku said, shifting to make room.
“I’m going to see what everyone else is doing,” Todoroki said, rising to his feet. Katsuki acknowledged the gesture with a nod and took his place on the driftwood.
“How was the drive?” Izuku scooted a few inches closer, the fabric of his beach shorts snagging on the dry bark. Tugging it free, Izuku adjusted his oversized t-shirt that gaped a bit at the collar.
Katsuki looked away. “Boring.”
“Would’ve been less boring if you’d let me wait for you.”
“You’re giving yourself too much credit.”
Izuku laughed. They’d initially planned to carpool, but Katsuki had encountered an annoying villain right before his shift ended and had needed to stay back to complete paperwork while the incident was still fresh. Izuku had offered to wait with him so Katsuki wouldn’t have to make the two-hour drive alone.
As much as Katsuki would’ve liked that, he was actually glad for the reprieve. There were things he’d resolved to say to Izuku during their class reunion getaway. That way, in the event it went poorly, Katsuki could simply leave while Izuku would have the company and support of his friends.
Now he only had to find the right time to bring it up. His nerves were a nightmare. He’d never been this anxious about something that wasn’t hero related.
“Gather round, you two!” came a shout from the courtyard. Uraraka was flailing her arms, waving them over.
“Here we go,” Katsuki muttered as he rose to his feet.
“Come on,” Izuku said fondly, leading the way back towards their former classmates.
They’d cleared away the patio and lawn furniture, instead settling onto individual cushions around the fire pit. Katsuki and Izuku took their place with the others, legs folded beneath them and knees knocking together.
Already set on the stone ledge surrounding the fire pit were small flutes of golden champagne, one for each of them. They weren’t actually old enough to legally drink, but no one present was going to complain. Iida hadn’t made it due to a scheduling conflict.
Yaomomo cleared her throat as she stood and raised her champagne glass. Even though the ceremony of it all was stupid as hell, Katsuki held his criticism in check and raised his drink along with everyone else.
“As your former class VP, I’m honored to welcome you all here. I’m grateful that so many of you were able to come. I know graduation wasn’t that long ago, but with the end of summer, it truly feels like this is the moment all our paths diverge.” Her voice was already taking on that thick quality of impending tears, and she’d hardly even begun speaking. “Some of you will be relocating to join agencies in distant prefectures, or different countries entirely.”
At this, she nodded at Sato, Shoji, Asui—who were moving to Italy, New Zealand, and Brazil respectively—and Sero, who was heading south to Okinawa.
“Some of you have chosen higher education,” Yaomomo continued, nodding at Aoyama, who would be attending university in France. Others in their class had also chosen university after graduation, but they hadn’t been able to attend the getaway. “And even though the rest of us won’t be quite so far away, as we focus on our careers, this may very well be the last time we see each other for a long time.” She brushed away her tears, flustered. “So anyway, let’s make the most out of this weekend.”
With that, she lightly tipped her glass before taking a drink. Everyone followed suit, murmuring words of agreement.
Katsuki sipped his champagne. The flavor was pleasant, but he intended to take his time. He wasn’t big on alcohol, even if he were of legal drinking age. There was simply no world in which he would willingly ingest something in quantities enough to inhibit his reflexes. He was still aiming to be the best hero, after all.
At his side, Izuku only drank enough to dampen his tongue. Even though they were on vacation, as rookies they were still required to remain on emergency on-call.
“You’ll have to visit me in Brazil,” Asui said to Uraraka. “I’ve been practicing my Portuguese so I’ll be able to show you around.”
“I’m a little surprised you didn’t head to the U.S., Midoriya,” Kaminari said.
As Izuku tilted his head in confusion, Katsuki asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You know, because All Might trained there,” he explained. “And you’ve got connections with David Shield. Oh, and you’ve got connections in Otheon, too, with that pilot. You could probably sign with just about any agency.”
At the mention of that rooster head, Katsuki scowled. Any time that guy came around, he was always too fucking handsy with Izuku. It pissed him off.
“Oh,” Izuku said, blushing faintly. “Except for missions or vacation, I’ve never considered leaving Japan. Everything I love is here.”
Even though Katsuki already knew how Izuku felt about working abroad, his words still put him at ease.
“Besides,” Katsuki added harshly, “All Might didn’t choose to train in America, idiot. He only left so that he could get stronger without being murdered by All For One.”
Izuku wrinkled his nose, which Katsuki could tell meant he hadn’t intended to mention that particular fact. But screw that. Katsuki wasn’t going to entertain omitting historical truths just so fucking extras wouldn’t be uncomfortable. They’d fought a goddamn war against that nutsack. They, of all people, had no business revising what happened, especially amongst each other.
“Right,” Kaminari said, wincing. “Sorry.”
Thankfully, Yaomomo dispersed the awkwardness by once again clearing her throat for attention. Except when she said she wanted each of them to say one thing they missed about UA, Katsuki considered simply going to bed. He even got as far as shifting to rise from his cushion before Izuku’s hand settled onto his thigh to keep him in place.
And then he just kept his hand there , and Katsuki could do nothing but sit and breathe and try not to look like he was having a minor crisis.
“Lunch Rush’s food,” Kaminari said with a dreamy expression. “We had it so good.”
There were several murmurs of agreement before Jirou said, “The acoustics in the auditorium was great for playing live.” She blushed and cast bashful glances toward her former bandmates. “Maybe we could play sometime this weekend? I brought my guitar, and Momo has instruments.”
“Sure,” Katsuki said. It’d been fun while it lasted, and he wouldn’t say no to smashing some drumsticks.
Izuku shot him a bright smile that made him want to squirm away from the hand still scorching against his thigh. His shorts had ridden up a bit when he sat, and Izuku’s fingers were barely an inch from contact with his bare skin.
Uraraka saved him from combustion by throwing out, “Free Wi-Fi! It was super fast too.”
They continued on like that until it was Izuku’s turn. Predictably, his big eyes went shiny with unshed tears. “I miss seeing you guys every day and knowing that you were all just a level or two away in the dorms.”
“Midoriya!” Ashido blubbered, before flinging herself from Kirishima’s lap and onto Izuku. Uraraka and Kaminari quickly joined.
Ducking clear of the sudden emotional onslaught, Katsuki shifted sideways, regrettably dislodging Izuku’s hand on his thigh. He caught Izuku’s wide, startled gaze before the nerd was swallowed beneath the others.
“That’s enough, you damned leeches!” Katsuki barked at the pile of bodies. “It’s my turn!”
Once everyone was again properly settled on their cushions, Izuku ran crooked fingers through his wild nest of curls and turned excitedly to Katsuki. His face was flushed from the impromptu group hug, the color high on his cheeks.
Katsuki looked away before he said something stupid like, ‘What’s there to miss when you’re still right here with me?’
“The training facilities,” he said, voice a bit gruff. “They were top of the line.”
A look he couldn’t decipher flickered across Izuku’s face. For some reason, it made him feel defensive. Like Katsuki’s answer had disappointed him.
“What?” Katsuki grumbled, crossing his arms. He wasn’t going to say some sentimental crap like Izuku had, even if he did sometimes miss the chaotic energy of his former classmates.
They’d shared three years of cram sessions, hero training, final exams, movie nights, and villain fights, and they were each of them irrevocably changed. But now it was time to move on, to find new adventures and new places to settle. To discover who they were as individuals set loose from the confines of schooling and childhood.
As if he knew what Katsuki was thinking, Izuku’s expression softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nothing, Kacchan.”
+++
In the morning, they found a breakfast buffet awaiting them in the dining room. Katsuki was pretty sure Yaomomo was ruining their classmates for all future beach getaways, but thankfully that wasn’t his problem.
No, his only ‘problem’ was the nerd beside him slathering jam on his toast.
He’d discovered last night that Sato snored and that the air around Todoroki could shift between sweltering and frigid depending on what he was dreaming about. Katsuki hadn’t slept much, which was how he knew Izuku hadn’t either.
They’d both taken top bunks, and more than once, their gazes had met in the warm glow of the fairy lights beneath their window. Every time it happened, Izuku smiled, sweet and sleepy, before closing his eyes. Katsuki had desperately wanted to steal him away, to find a no-doubt absurdly comfortable sofa somewhere and tug Izuku down on top of him.
Not yet. He’d caged his feelings for Izuku for years, even when they thrashed against the prison of his ribs, rattled the locks and tried to squeeze through the threads of his stitched-up heart—what was another couple days?
After breakfast, the group relocated outside where they set up a couple nets for beach volleyball. They played in pairs, which was great for Izuku and Katsuki until everyone agreed they were too competitive as a unit and needed to be separated.
Katsuki imagined exploding the volleyball before calmly asserting that he could play solo and still beat the lot of them. It wasn’t his or Izuku’s fault that their standards in all areas were higher than the other extras.
Izuku ended up paired with Kirishima while Katsuki grudgingly agreed to play with Jirou. They won, obviously.
Lunch was a spread of fresh fish and cold noodles. As everyone broke off into groups to eat and relax, Katsuki spied a trio of hammocks farther down the beach, strung beneath a cluster of tabunoki trees. He made a beeline for them, bare feet sinking into the warm sand.
Several of his friends called to him from the water, but swimming could wait. The hammocks were far enough away to promise some much needed quiet while still being within sight of the others.
“Kacchan!” Izuku called, his voice accompanied by the sound of feet kicking up sand.
Smiling, Katsuki waited for him to catch up before continuing on. Izuku rambled on about their volleyball games as they reached the hammocks. They were broad and firm, and Katsuki laughed as Izuku struggled to climb onto his.
“You can join me on mine if that’s too complicated for you,” Katsuki said with a smirk that was maybe not as innocent as it could’ve been.
Izuku’s face went pink. “That won’t be necessary.”
“You can hit a moving target with pinpoint accuracy, but you can’t manage a hammock?”
“Ha!” Izuku crowed in victory as he sank into the fabric. “Easy.”
“Good thing, because I’m not being hero partners with someone defeated by netting.” He raised his arms and cushioned his head against his laced fingers.
Green eyes lit up at the words. They were only sidekicks right now, but given their service history already, Katsuki knew that that wouldn’t last long. He and Izuku had plans, which if he was being honest, wasn’t something he could have ever imagined back in first year. But there was nothing he wanted more.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. His stomach did an annoying little flip at the reminder.
Confessing to Izuku would be a dangerous gamble with the highest of stakes, but… if they were going to start an agency together, commit to one another as both hero and business partners, then he wanted all his cards on the table first. Izuku deserved to know the facts before making that kind of commitment. Anything less felt dishonest, and Katsuki couldn’t let either of them enter into a long term, life altering partnership with secrets between them.
“Izuku,” Katsuki said softly, gaze fixed on the branches overhead.
“Yeah?”
“What would—” He startled as something shot into his peripheral vision. Suddenly, the world tilted, the hammock flipping him upside down. Thanks to his reflexes, he landed on his hands and one knee rather than on his face. A familiar strip of tape clung to the side of his hammock.
“Kacchan!” Izuku shot up, nearly flipping himself off his own hammock.
Laughter split the air, shattering the peace of a moment ago. With a snarl that was only a little genuine outrage, Katsuki blasted across the beach toward Sero and Kaminari. The two clowns were tripping over each other in their mad scramble to escape, all while laughing themselves stupid.
The afternoon devolved into chaos from there, but Katsuki would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. His friends were idiots and overly familiar, but they’d earned that right. When they graduated, he finally told them that he was grateful for what their friendship had taught him, and it had resulted in way too many wet, snotty faces trying to hug him.
Once the sun went down, Jirou and Yaomomo broke out the instruments. Everyone grabbed a piece of equipment, and they set up cords, speakers, amps, a mixer, and a couple mics out in the courtyard.
Katsuki hadn’t played in months, not since before graduation during their last jam session as students. He twirled the drumsticks between his fingers as he took his seat.
Even without looking, he could feel Izuku’s gaze on him. He smirked and started tapping out a beat.
Keep your eyes on me , he thought, still as selfishly possessive of Izuku’s attention as he’d been in first year. Maybe he hadn’t deserved it then—hell, he probably didn’t deserve it now—but when he looked up to meet those shining eyes, he couldn’t help the satisfaction that gripped him.
There was no longer anyone to defeat with their music, no contests to win, no extras to prove themselves to, no teachers to please. So Katsuki played for Izuku, for the gleam of awe in green irises and the pink wash over freckles. For the way the scar that marred his right cheek pulled on the healthy skin when he smiled so broadly that Katsuki felt it like an arrow to his chest.
They played until Jirou took pity on how Kaminari was gazing longingly at the darkened beach. The moment he set down his guitar, he let out a piercing whoop and whipped off his tank. Then he was off, several others on his heels as they made for the water lapping at cool sand.
“There aren’t sharks out there, right?” Uraraka asked as Jirou and Yaomomo settled beside her on a pile of pillows.
“We get occasional sightings,” Yaomomo said, a note of concern entering her voice.
“If they allow themselves to get eaten, they deserve it,” Katsuki said.
“The ocean is a shark’s natural habitat,” Asui pointed out. “We’re the ones invading their spaces.”
“Exactly,” Katsuki said, already bored with the topic of conversation. “You go swimming in the ocean at night, you agree to the chance of becoming shark food.”
“I suppose,” Yaomomo said, flustered. “But I would hate for anyone to get hurt,”
That set off a conversation between the girls about how a potential shark was in more danger from a group of clueless pro heroes than the other way around, and what sort of shark conservation efforts their government had in place. Katsuki left them to it, scrolling his phone for anything actually newsworthy.
“No phones!” Sero shouted as a piece of tape swiped for the device.
Katsuki swore, palms sparking as he tucked away his phone and lunged for the other man.
“Kacchan!” Izuku’s arms circled his waist, holding him back with an ease that set Katsuki’s skin on fire.
Whether that was from indignation or something else was a question for later, but he allowed Izuku to tug him back down. He smelled like the ocean, like brine and a brisk wind. Katsuki wanted to turn his face into those messy curls, bury his fingers in them, brush away stray grains of sand.
Like last night, they sat in the courtyard on pillows, but instead of moving back to his own, Izuku relaxed his grip around Katsuki’s waist, keeping one arm loosely curled around his lower back. The nerd’s entire right side remained pressed against him.
After a full minute passed without Izuku adjusting his position, Katsuki slowly exhaled and forced his muscles to relax. The last thing he wanted was for Izuku to misinterpret his tension as discomfort.
Katsuki had never been much for the casual intimacy of physical affection, even among his circus of friends. Frankly, for what a crybaby he was, neither was Izuku. Oh, the nerd was happy to accept a friendly hug or touch when offered, but he didn’t initiate contact himself. Even with how close they’d gotten the last few years, they didn’t… this wasn’t…
He decided not to overthink it. They still had a full day ahead of them until their getaway came to an end. He still had plenty of time to talk to Izuku. After that, everything would change between them, one way or another.
So he basked in Izuku’s nearness, gently leaning into the weight at his back. Who knew if he’d ever have this again?
It wasn’t long before the others dragged themselves from the water and everyone reconvened in the courtyard. Non-alcoholic drinks were passed around as Yaomomo straightened on her cushion, hands folded in her lap, proper as a princess.
“Tonight, I was hoping everyone could share a fun memory from UA,” she said, politely ignoring the few groans that rang out. “I’ll start! This one night in first year, after an especially difficult training exercise, I found myself a little homesick.” She smiled warmly around the circle of former classmates. “Mina and Toru decided to cheer me up with a tea party, and Sato even brought cakes.”
Katsuki grunted, which was the most confirmation he was willing to give that, yes, it was pretty cool of them to do that. One by one, they each shared a memory—Todoroki’s first confession after he stopped being Angryroki; Uraraka flipping a guy twice her size for harassing Hagakure; Kirishima and Mina’s mistletoe kiss; Shoji revealing his face for the first time; Ojiro and Sero setting off the fire alarm after burning pastries, which forced the entire dorm to evacuate, including a dripping wet Tokoyami with soap suds still clinging to his shoulders and Dark Shadow wrapped like a towel around his waist; Kaminari’s tenth failed prank on Shinsou that ended with him tangled in Shinsou’s capture weapon and dangling from the light fixtures until Aizawa found him and let him down.
“Um,” Izuku began, tucking himself even tighter against Katsuki’s back. His body heat was scorching through the meager layers of their t-shirts. “When you guys… came to f-find me. In first year. I know we all just kinda, well, act like it didn’t happen or like it wasn’t a big deal—”
Personally, Katsuki thought he showed admirable restraint for not pointing out the fact Izuku was the only person who acted that way about what happened.
“—but it meant a lot to me, and I never really ever… well, I never thanked you all for that. So yeah. Thank you.”
Ashido, all watery-eyed, looked like she was about to bodily hurl herself onto Izuku again. Before any of their friends could reenact the night before, Katsuki threw up an arm to block Izuku.
“Ease up on the damn waterworks. Didn’t you all get this sappy shit out of your systems at graduation?”
“Pfft.” Sero raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “What’s your memory then, Bakugo? That time you exploded the lunch table because Koda talked a rat out from hiding in the trash bin behind you?”
“Not unless you count how you screamed and taped yourself to the ceiling,” Katsuki shot back before the idiots could even start laughing. Once he was satisfied by Sero’s embarrassment, he continued.
He’d thought of a memory, but he ended up sharing a different, less emotionally charged one.
“Second year sports festival when I kicked all your asses and won fairly ,” he said, leveling a fake glare at Todoroki.
As attention shifted to the next person, Izuku nudged him with the shoulder still plastered to his back despite the warm night. Low enough so that he wouldn’t be overheard, Izuku murmured against the shell of Katsuki’s ear.
“Is that really the memory you thought of?”
Katsuki fought the smile trying to take form. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Sounds like a nerd thing. You should get that checked.”
“Kacchan.”
“I’m gonna wash up. See if I can’t get all this fucking sand out of my shorts,” he said, reluctantly standing. More loudly, he added, “See you extras tomorrow. Anyone wakes me before ten gets an explosion up his nostrils.”
Kaminari cupped his nose and mumbled, “Ow…”
+++
The following day passed in a blur of scorching sand and cold waves. Asui and Yaomomo spent the morning teaching everyone how to surf. Being a group of battle-tested heroes should have meant they were quick studies, but all their skills meant nothing in the face of a floating board and incoming waves.
Obviously, Katsuki got the hang of it quickly. So did the nerd, which Katsuki couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride about.
Naturally, as more of them improved, it turned into a competition for who could remain upright the longest and was absolutely rife with cheating by using quirks. No one could agree on a winner so their afternoon turned into a Sand Castle Contest, Extreme Pro Heroes Edition.
Everyone broke into teams of two or three. Before Katsuki could snag Izuku to get him alone, Uraraka pounced and hauled Izuku away to team up with Todoroki.
There was still plenty of time, he told himself as he, Kaminari, and Kirishima claimed a section of beach and got to work. Even though they created a perfect replica of Tokyo Tower out of tiny seashells, that damned Half-and-Half’s team won with an ice and sand sculpture of Edo Castle.
Katsuki tried again to get Izuku alone during dinner, but the nerd was utterly engrossed in a discussion about foreign heroes with their friends who were headed abroad. Pulling him away when the weekend—and their friends’ time in Japan—was ending left a guilty knot in his gut. So instead he listened to them talk about the foreign agencies they would be joining, the differences in how heroes were deployed, and the top heroes they’d be working with.
As dinner ended, Katsuki had hardly risen from his seat to stall Izuku before Yaomomo yet again called for everyone’s attention. He bit down on an irritated groan and shifted focus. Nearby, Izuku flashed him a smile that left Katsuki feeling grudgingly mollified. For now.
“It’s our last night together,” Yaomomo began, her eyes already glistening. “Thank you for taking time from your busy schedules to make some final memories together.”
Uraraka cringed. “Don’t make it sound like we’re dying.”
With an apologetic bow, Yaomomo continued. “For our last night, I was hoping we could share something we’re looking forward to so that our parting will feel less bittersweet.” She smiled, lips tremulous. “I’m looking forward to getting my own apartment. I’ve never lived alone, but I think it’ll be good for me.”
“If you get lonely, you can always call me,” Jirou offered. “Our agencies are both in Kyoto.”
Asui tapped her chin. “Why don’t you guys just room together?”
“Oh my gosh, yes!” Mina squealed, bouncing in her seat, which happened to be Kirishima’s lap. Katsuki did nothing to conceal his snort of laughter when Kirishima winced.
Before the girls could get too carried away planning their future living arrangements, Todoroki spoke up. “I’m looking forward to developing my quirk in a way that’ll make both sides stronger.”
“Boring,” Sato objected.
Kaminari elbowed him before offering his own answer. “Getting my first endorsement! It’s gonna be so cool!”
“Getting a shot at the hero rankings,” Sero said excitedly.
“My first school visit!” Kirishima added.
“Figuring out who I am outside of being a hero,” Aoyama murmured, his soft admission instantly calming the others. “It’s a little scary, but that’s because I’ve never had any ambitions beyond that, and it was never truly mine to begin with.”
“You’ll always be welcome here, Aoyama-kun,” Izuku said. “Don’t forget that.”
“Thank you, Midoriya,” Aoyama said, brightening. “But I’m genuinely looking forward to being on my own and finding something that’s just mine. I think… I deserve that.”
Everyone readily agreed, and even Katsuki nodded along.
With a broad grin, Izuku glanced at him before saying, “I can’t wait to start an agency with Kacchan!”
“Damn right,” Katsuki said, puffing out his chest. “We’re gonna be the fucking best. And all you shitheads better come work with us once we’re established.”
“Bakugo!” Kirishima shouted, his stupid face crumpling with emotion. “That’s so manly of you!”
“Seriously, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to us,” Kaminari said, eyes suspiciously bright.
“Don’t make me take it back,” Katsuki said.
The answers continued, but Katsuki caught and held Izuku’s soft gaze, the fondness there settling like a hot ember in his chest. He needed to get the nerd alone. All weekend, he’d told himself he still had time, and now, he was acutely aware of that time dwindling.
No one quite wanted the night to end so it was late when they began reluctantly heading off to bed. Izuku, being the sentimental dork he was, was still speaking softly with Sero and Todoroki. Exhausted, Katsuki supposed there was little point in continuing to wait up.
With disappointment weighing down his shoulders, he retired to their room. Sato was already asleep, his snores filling the quiet. When Katsuki finished showering and Izuku still hadn’t left the courtyard, he set his phone alarm to 4:45 AM. He had one last shot at this before they had to return to the organized chaos of their daily lives.
+++
Katsuki couldn’t do it.
It was 5 AM, and he’d spent the past 15 minutes watching Izuku sleep like a total creeper. Through the window, the sun was a sliver of gold atop the horizon and quickly growing. Katsuki had imagined taking Izuku down to the beach to watch the sunrise, one final moment to confess. It would be stupidly romantic and shit.
But damn it, Izuku looked so peaceful, bundled beneath his blanket and cuddling his All Might pillow. His late night was apparent in the shadows that remained beneath his eyes, but he slept soundly, his nose twitching every so often in a way that Katsuki found unacceptably adorable.
He sighed. He couldn’t disturb the nerd’s much needed sleep. Fuck.
His own sleepiness having fled in his dilemma, Katsuki slipped from his bed to wash up. He made a stop in the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee, then he headed barefoot out past the courtyard to the beach. He settled onto the driftwood where he’d found Izuku their first night here and sipped his coffee.
The sunrise was stunning. Navy blue and indigo gave way to swathes of fuschia and vermillion. The sun grew into a cap of rose gold, blurring the line where the sea met the sky.
He was an idiot thinking he could wait for the right moment. This weekend was meant to provide a relaxed atmosphere for him to confess. If it went badly, Katsuki could leave and Izuku would have the support and distraction of all his friends. Now he’d have to do it in less ideal circumstances, and sooner rather than later. His stomach twisted itself into knots, only slightly soothed by the hot coffee.
Maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he’d waited because he was afraid of Izuku’s response.
“Shit,” he muttered, closing his eyes and gripping the mug tighter.
Who was he kidding? There was no such thing as ideal circumstances. But that didn’t mean Katsuki hadn’t wanted to make it as easy as possible for Izuku to turn him down.
The sound of feet sinking into sand drew his attention, and he opened his eyes. Who else would be up at this hour?
To his surprise, Izuku greeted him with a small, tired smile.
“What are you doing up?” Katsuki asked, eying his sleep-rumpled clothes and tousled curls. He still looked half-asleep.
“Looking for you,” Izuku said as he slumped down beside Katsuki. “Something woke me, and I noticed you weren’t in bed. So what are you doing up?”
Uncertain how to begin even though he’d intended to bring Izuku out here in the first place, Katsuki couldn’t only gesture wordlessly towards the sunrise.
“Yeah, Yaomomo mentioned the sunrises here are pretty amazing.”
Izuku fought a yawn, so Katsuki held up his coffee mug. With a sweet smile of thanks, Izuku took it, their fingers briefly twining around the warm ceramic.
Izuku inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, before taking a sip. “Mmm. That’s good. You should’ve woken me to join you. This is nice.”
“I meant to,” Katsuki admitted, “but I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You could never disturb me, Kacchan,” he said, so lightly, so effortlessly candid, that Katsuki’s chest pinched with longing.
He sighed. Well, he’d wanted a moment alone with the nerd, and the universe was all but saying, ‘Here you go! Now what are you gonna do about it?’
“Hey, so… You know how you felt like I was remembering something different the other night? When we were all sharing memories?”
Izuku made a quiet sound to indicate he did.
Katsuki forced himself not to shift awkwardly as he continued. “Well, you were right.”
A broader smile tugged at Izuku’s lips. “Thought so. You had this look on your face. It didn’t match the memory you shared.”
“What look?” he asked.
“Nope, keep going. Tell me the memory.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. It was…” Damn it, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, and it had nothing to do with the rising sun. “First day of third year.”
He felt more than saw the way Izuku tensed. Shit. There was no taking it back now.
“I…” Izuku paused to take a sip of coffee, slurping a little too loudly and then wrinkling his nose in embarrassment. “Er, I waited for you that morning because you were the last one to leave the dorm.”
“I couldn’t get the hag to stop being embarrassing, and if I hung up on her, I woulda heard it from my old man too.”
“She was proud of you,” Izuku gently chided him.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway… right. So that memory. By the door. That’s what I thought of.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, not when he knew they were both remembering the same thing—Izuku saying something sentimental about this being their last year together, Katsuki scoffing about how Izuku wasn’t getting rid of him that easily, and then how the nerd’s eyes went all soft and watery, how he sucked in his lower lip as all of him seemed to sway forward to close the distance between them—
—and Katsuki had fucking panicked and blurted out, “Start an agency with me.”
Izuku had been over the moon, and that moment of… almost… had been forgotten. Except not really because Katsuki had spent the better part of the year agonizing over it, if he’d only been imagining it or if he’d fucked it all up, and now he was determined to confess before Izuku tied himself to him, even if it was only through business and not… holy matrimony. Or whatever.
“I thought of that, too,” Izuku said.
That surprised him. Katsuki slanted him a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
Face red enough to rival Uraraka’s sunburn yesterday, Izuku nodded and mumbled, “It’s just… I felt like that moment was only for us. Because you seemed to want… well, you asked to start an agency with me. You know?”
He sounded painfully uncertain, and all of Katsuki’s insecurities wilted. If nothing else came from this conversation, he at least knew he couldn’t allow Izuku to ever question his place in Katsuki’s life.
Taking a fortifying breath—but keeping his gaze locked on the sunrise because he wasn’t entirely without fear—he said, “Izuku, I like you.”
Only the rush of waves could be heard in the ensuing silence. Katsuki’s heart hammered.
Finally, Izuku stammered, “L-Like…?”
“Like,” he repeated firmly, still avoiding looking at him. “ Like like. Fuck, I sound like a shitty Pokémon.”
Izuku let out a startled laugh, which Katsuki hoped was a good sign.
“Um. I l-like like you, too.”
At that, Katsuki turned to see Izuku staring just as hard at the horizon, cheeks ablaze. Then, those big green eyes shifted, peering at him from beneath dark lashes. He gave Katsuki a shy smile that absolutely decimated his ability to think.
The nerd must have noticed something of the way Katsuki’s brain had shut down, because his expression shifted, shyness solidifying into determination. How like the idiot to set aside his own uncertainty in order to assuage Katsuki’s.
“Kacchan, can I kiss you?”
Well, there went any hope of Katsuki regaining his higher brain functions. He wiped sweaty palms against his shorts and took a deep breath through his nose. He was not going to panic and ruin the moment again. There was nothing to panic about anyway. Izuku felt the same.
Shit, he was overthinking this. That was Izuku’s thing, damnit. Pulse thudding in ears, he nodded. Then, he met Izuku halfway.
The kiss was light and chaste, a dry press of warm lips and an awkward moment of figuring out which way to tilt their heads or position their noses or when to close their eyes. It was obvious neither of them knew what they were doing, but they were doing it together, and that meant everything.
When Katsuki pulled back, breathless despite the brief contact, he found Izuku watching him with shining eyes and a smile more brilliant than the sunrise.
Callused fingers found his own. “I’m really looking forward to doing everything with you, Kacchan.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, gripping tight to that scarred hand. “Me, too.”
~fin
