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Gentle light filters through a stained-glass window, and Izuku tiredly rubs at his eye as he watches squirrels chase one another up a thick maple tree trunk.
His breakfast has gone cold, plate settled on his lap as he sits on a stool he'd dragged over from the bar. The window is open, angled in a way that it paints pretty colors across the porcelain dish stained with strawberry juice and pancake syrup.
The smell of it mixes with the smell of summer outside: of sunlight through sweet tree boughs, and the perfume of freshly watered azalea bushes.
All of it together is too cloying, almost.
Izuku sighs to himself, fiddling with the half-eaten food for only a moment more before he sets it on the windowsill.
"I'm not cleaning that if it falls and breaks."
Izuku startles at the deep voice, fumbling with his own hands as he twists his head out the window.
On the other side of the wall, Katsuki rests. He's leaning against the stone, taking a rest from yard work by the ruddy stains on his knees and the dirt clinging to his forearms.
He shoves away perspiration from his brow, watching Izuku with an appraising eye, and Izuku laughs nervously.
"I won't break it," Izuku says as he moves the plate away anyway. "I'd clean it up myself, either way."
Katsuki only grunts.
His hair has grown longer over the past spring season. It was the beginning of summer, but already wisps of his sunlight colored hair tickle at his dark eyelashes. Just a bit. Izuku can see some of it clinging to the side of his face, sweat-slicked.
He glances away when Katsuki quirks an eyebrow at him. They're separated by a wall, but Izuku feels like Katsuki can see right through him at any moment.
He gives a wobbly smile, eyes darting up again, but Katsuki has already turned away. He's rubbing at his callous-hardened palms, probably aching after working all morning.
Izuku had woken up an hour or so prior, and he remembers seeing Katsuki already hard at work in the garden.
A marble statue had gotten sun-bleached over the years, and Izuku had finally decided it was time to get it repaired. He hadn't expected them (that is, Katsuki and the other help) to get to it so soon, but they'd always been fast.
Katsuki most of all.
Others may have come and gone, but Katsuki had always stayed. He'd been with them— with Izuku— for years, even before Izuku's mother had passed and left him the estate, and knew more about the home than Izuku did, probably. More about the grounds, definitely.
Sometimes Izuku will sneak off with a good book to a quiet, untouched part of the garden, and some hours later would find flaming red eyes watching him from afar.
And, every time without fail, Izuku would find that 'hidden' part of the garden repaired the next day, in a way that he can sit comfortable in the sun for hours; fresh cushions placed upon marble benches, or grass beds cut low so that bugs can't hide in them.
Izuku can't help but be enamored with his ever-so-watchful groundskeeper.
"Would you like something to drink?" Izuku asks, quiet as if he doesn't want Katsuki to hear as he begins to walk away.
But he does hear. He turns, broad shoulders relaxing, and his eyes go dark and lidded as he appraises Izuku again.
Katsuki steps forward. The window is just low enough that he can cross his arms atop the sill and lean his head in.
"And what are you offering?"
Izuku laughs, high pitched and for too long. Katsuki watches him the entire while, and Izuku is sure his face goes red like the chopped up strawberries on his plate.
"Just… j-just a moment."
Izuku jumps up, and the stool teeters on one leg. He catches it midfall, and Katsuki's laugh is like liquid gold being poured over him, like he was a gilded ornament made to be strung up onto a glass chandelier.
He shivers as Katsuki's smooth, enticing voice calls after him, "Water's fine."
Izuku chooses his favorite glass to fill with the pitcher of water he keeps in the fridge. It's ice-cold, freezing against his clammy palms, so he doesn't bother with actual ice.
Instead, he fills it to the brim and takes carefully measured steps back to the door so that he can present it to his groundskeeper.
The glass is engraved, designed with a pale bird midflight, air jets circling down across the glass until the eye follows where it's near landing in its nest.
It reminds Izuku of the summer he had found a baby bird at the base of a tree, long ago. He was still a kid, and had cried and cried at the thought of it being stuck there until its parent got back.
He'd cried harder when he ended up stuck in the tree himself trying to put it back, too scared of heights.
Katsuki hadn't yet been hired then, but… it was a good memory despite everything. Sometimes, now, Izuku imagines if Katsuki had been there. If he would have helped Izuku down, laughing and teasing him all the while.
Izuku minutely shakes his head, both to clear it and to admonish himself. They were barely friends, after all.
"Here you go…" He murmurs, shooing the stool away with his foot so that he can lean out and place the cup directly in Katsuki's palms.
"Thank you, young master." Katsuki's voice is completely teasing as he says it, low and rough like a bass instrument being tuned.
Their fingers brush.
Izuku holds his breath as the pads of Katsuki's fingertips feel against the jut of knuckles. Neither of them move for a moment, the glass of water hanging between in limbo as neither grabs and neither lets go.
Katsuki purposefully lifts his other hand, eyes staring Izuku down to his unbreathing core. Then, he places it against the back of Izuku's. His thumb rubs a soft circle across the skin, softer compared to his own, and Izuku breathes in so sharp that his lung protests with a sharp pain.
Izuku pulls away first, with a cough.
They'd never really touched hands before. Never touched anything before, not even in passing brushes or accidental stumbles.
It was always as if the air between them was thick, impermeable. Not solid like brick, but thick like water waves, and Izuku couldn't read the tide well enough to breach the surface.
Izuku so desperately wanted to break through, and hold Katsuki tight. To promise him the world and the moon and the stars, and actually get them for him if he so wished.
But Izuku couldn't ask that of him, not when there was a very real chance of him saying no.
Katsuki's livelihood relied on their relationship, after all. He had to stay atleast somewhat cordial with his master if he wanted to get paid. Izuku was sure he thought that way, which is why he teased and darted away.
If Izuku were a better person, he'd make it so Katsuki wouldn't have to do that song and dance. Make it so he could come and go as he pleased without worry of Izuku— or give him all the money Izuku had just so he could choose his own path.
But Izuku was selfish.
And that touch, the simple brush of rough skin against skin… He couldn't let it go. Izuku would still keep him, pay him double even, if Katsuki said he hated his guts.
Katsuki laughs again, at the way Izuku jerks away. Just once, even quieter than before. And then he drinks.
His head tips back as he swallows down the water greedily, throat bobbing with each heavy gulp. Izuku watches as a drop slips past the curve of his lip and paints his neck translucent.
It trails lower, following the swell of his neck and briefly getting caught at the clavicle and pooling there. Katsuki shifts, breathing in a deep breath, and it journeys further, dipping lower and lower still.
Izuku jerks his head away before he gets hypnotized past the point of no return, eyes darting away from the shirtless groundskeeper.
The glass makes a dull sound as Katsuki sets it on the windowsill, thoroughly emptied. It stays silent between them for a moment, until Izuku nervously licks his lips.
"Back to work?"
Katsuki tilts his head, leaning back against the windowsill. He shifts up onto his toes, just a few inches, and leans in far enough that the smell of him encompasses the entirety of Izuku's head. He swims in it, eyes fluttering shut briefly before he forces them back open.
Katsuki angles close enough that the ends of his hair tickle at Izuku's forehead. Izuku tips forward, subconsciously, to chase the enticing feel.
Like this, the sun is entirely blocked, light let in only by the glass window. The colors, reds and blues and greens, overlay across Katsuki's face until he's like an oil painting come to life.
Izuku traces the shapeless shapes with his eyes, losing himself between the shadows cast across Katsuki's face and the curve of his lips.
Katsuki calls his attention back by grinning, clicking his tongue, and dropping back on his heels.
"See you around, young master."
Then, Katsuki stalks away. He stops briefly to pick up his shovel, hooking his foregone shirt over his shoulder, and then disappears around the corner in the blink of an eye.
Forgotten condensation rolls down the bird-engraved glass. A real bird sings in the distance, far beyond the treeline.
Izuku doesn't know what to do with himself in the aftermath.
His hands shake, just a bit, and he holds them close to his belly to get them to calm. And, just like he can't stop them from trembling, he can't stop the smile lighting up across his mouth.
Katsuki smells of lemongrass and honey. Sharp and sweet.
Izuku closes the window so that it stays with him a few moments longer.
---
Izuku lays himself across freshly trimmed grass, unworried at how his crisp, fresh shirt will stain. He has ever many more in his closet to romp around in, after all.
Instead, he worries about the book in his hands. The pages are small against his palms, and the spine is well worn. It's a favorite of his, and has been for many years.
He settles down into the piece of earth laid out for him that afternoon, rolling onto his belly so that he can lay the book flat, and hums happily to himself as the words wash over him.
Katsuki watches him from the house. He's settled atop the roof, just having finished repairing a few thatches and cleaning out the gutters. After he washed up, he'd take his lunch break and spend the hour or two keenly examining his mental picture of the young master, as he always does in his downtime at work.
Izuku is unaware of the eyes he has on him, by the way he twists in the grass and lets his shirt get untucked from his pants.
Katsuki has a perfect view of the strip of skin that gets exposed to the summer heat, and watches as Izuku idly fiddles with the hem, as if he's ready to take the entire thing off.
He's in a quiet part of the garden, in the small backyard rather than the vast front. He's all but surrounded by flowering shrubs and trees and dandelions that he refuses to let the gardeners get rid of. He loved to lounge on boring days and blow their white tuffs out across the landscape, to encourage more to grow.
Katsuki rolls his eyes at the thought. He'd be the one who had to deal with the shitty flowers, but it wasn't his estate. So he'd let the young master do what he pleased without fuss.
Katsuki settles back against the roof, leaning against one of the crown of the chimney spire that juts out of it.
He rests his head against his palm and watches as Izuku laughs out loud to himself and rolls onto his side, taking his book with him. His face is buried so far down in the pages that the ink might as well be staining his nose and freckles.
The pages have been rebound with leather, to keep them all together after the many years of love they've received from their owner. Katsuki feels his jaw tense for a moment, idly caught between wanting to tear it apart and replace it with himself in Izuku's hands, or turning away.
How idiotic, to be jealous of paper.
Izuku had a gentle touch, though.
Though he was rough on his hands, always nicking and grazing them with stupid actions, he was ever so gentle. He could cup an egg in his palms and go tumbling down a mountain, and the egg would be in better shape than it was before.
It was so strange, too. Despite his beansprout attitude, Izuku was a full-course meal. Strong around the middle with expansive shoulders. Large hands, strong thighs.
Though he was older than Katsuki by a handful of years, he still acted like a baby lamb, just barely taken from its mother's breast. It was astounding to watch, really.
Especially when the lambskin shed and he became a wolf. Not to say Izuku was dangerous— would always and forever be the furthest thing from that— but rather… fierce. Headstrong. Stubborn as a fucking ox and impulsive like a long-horned goat.
(Katsuki snickers, imagining a green-haired, fuzzy goat animal like that. What a sight his young master would be, if he were anything else but human.)
If Izuku got an idea in his mind, it'd be a hard-pressed ordeal to knock sense into him. Katsuki was the only one willing to try, it sometimes seems.
Yeah, well. Katsuki was never one to turn down a challenge. Not one like that, anyway.
Izuku may now own the lands, but the grounds were Katsuki's. Had been urged up by his fingers and conquered solidly by his will. Not a thing happened on this estate without his say-so, inside and out if he were being honest.
If Izuku were less stubborn, or Katsuki more nefarious… it'd probably be a problem. But Izuku was an alright master of the manor.
Was… kinder than Katsuki deserved, half of the time.
So Katsuki would treat him kind back, from the shadows. Where he belonged, as servant to his young master.
That was all he would ever be.
Because despite the way Izuku ogled him and let Katsuki get in his space, he'd never once reciprocated the advances. Never tried to get closer beyond passing by in the halls.
The closest they'd ever gotten was Izuku ducking out of the way as some extras carried furniture from one end of the estate to the other, accidentally breaching into Katsuki's personal bubble in the process.
They didn't even touch, then, but it haunted Katsuki even now— the feel of Izuku's body heat breeching against his own.
They were always orbiting one another, but never in the same galaxy. Katsuki was waiting for Izuku to reach for him, but was too stubborn to reach out first.
And he was too selfish to let Izuku go.
To quit and let him find another man to tend the grounds of his estate. To leave and let Izuku be swept up in whatever mess he did, and not care because his beautiful, fucking stubborn, eyes weren't on him anymore.
If Katsuki were a better person, maybe.
Katsuki stands up straight, tongue sour and heavy like lead in his mouth. It was time to be done with his daily glare at the estate owner.
He sighs, stretching his arms high above his head.
Izuku sits up, partially drawn by the motion in his periphery, but mostly from whatever is happening in his book. He gasps outwardly, soft but audible even from where Katsuki sits on the roof, and that is enough to startle the wildlife.
Butterflies burst from a small shrub to Izuku's front. A plethora of them, mostly in one color— must all have been from the same brood. They cyclone out of the greenery, and then lazily drift through the open air to find a new place to rest and eat at the flowers.
Katsuki growls beneath his breath at the sight of them, thinking only of the many larvae he'll have to cull lest they get an infestation all over.
That thought process stutters, though, when the young master gasps again and jumps to his feet to watch the cacophony of colors class across the clouded sky.
It's as if he'd never seen color before, with the way he drops his precious book to step into the mass of wings. Katsuki settles his chin across his hands, hugging his chin back against his palm to watch all over again.
Izuku holds his fingers out to the bugs that want nothing to do with them. They leave a wide berth around him as they flutter up towards the trees, etching an Izuku-shaped hole in their swarm.
Izuku pouts when not a one stays to give him butterfly kisses. His nose scrunches up as he does, lips soft-looking and plush as he juts the bottom one out.
Katsuki snorts and, once the last butterfly has gone to find a new branch to perch on, turns to get back to work.
---
It's been a number of days since their last significant contact, but Katsuki is (as always) a beautiful sight; resplendent even in the shade of the oak tree.
Izuku isn't sure, exactly, what excuse he could have for being out there at that moment, other than just wanting to see Katsuki in the sunlight and the shade. He was stunning.
And, at the moment, he was between tasks. As he seemed to be more frequently these days, when Izuku would sneak out of his own house and sit in the grass for no reason at all.
For that reason, Izuku was avoiding eye contact with the imposing figure he created. Even relaxed, lounging in shade as he waited for the sun to go past its apex, Katsuki was sharp like a poisoned dagger, but sweet as though he was dipped in honey.
He was alone, too.
Not that Izuku had many hired help, but generally Katsuki was barking orders at them because their work wasn't up to his standards. And, even though Izuku often had to convince him to take it easy on them, he did appreciate the effort.
Izuku could see it clearly in the cut of the landscape and the shine of his estate. Not a brick was chipped, not a hedge overgrown. Katsuki worked hard.
He deserved the break.
Izuku watched as he lifted his hands behind his head and settled against the oak tree's trunk. The bark must be uncomfortable against his skin, but he doesn't seem to mind as he lets his sweat and the shade cool him off.
And though the shade is thick, wisps of sunlight still filter through. Everywhere it touches seems to turn his skin to gold. Everything about him is magnificent, from the hard curve of his workers' muscles, to the soft of his eyelashes.
"Your stare is heavier than fuckin' lead, Deku."
Izuku startles and turns away as Katsuki squints his eyes open all of a sudden.
He feels his face go red and getting caught so easily, so soon.
There's a shift of clothing and grass, and then Katsuki stands and stretches. Izuku pointedly doesn't look his way at the soft sounds, even as something blooms deep in his tummy. Almost like the flutter of the butterflies from the few days prior, it was like he was being swarmed.
They weren't incredibly close together; Katsuki under a tree, and Izuku closer to the middle of the yard. Still, it's close enough that Izuku can feel him move without seeing.
He was coming closer.
Izuku glances up as Katsuki stops in front of him, arms loosely crossing. He has an intense look on his face, that would be stinging sharp if Izuku hadn't gotten to know Katsuki's mannerisms by now, over the years.
He's pleased. His eyes sparkle with a tinge of mirth and his lips are just barely traced with a hint of a smirk.
"Somethin' I can do for you, young master?"
Katsuki squats, slow so that he can get in Izuku's face, and the latter loses himself in the motion. His eyes dart all across the twists of Katsuki's body, as if it were being offered to him, before he catches himself and looks up at the bright sky instead.
Izuku breathes in deep. Shyly says, "Sorry…" even as he smiles.
Katsuki tilts his head.
He eyes the way Izuku's shirt, half open from the chest down, reveals the way his blush has painted across the skin of his pecs. Tilts his eyes lower to watch Izuku squeeze his thighs nervously, tensing them in the tight material of his silken pants.
"How long are we gonna keep playing this game, Izuku?"
Oh how the sound of his given name from Katsuki's lips is like a gift from the heavens. Would it be too much to hear it again, Izuku dazedly wonders as Katsuki stands straight.
He openly gapes as Katsuki watches him over his shoulder, stalking across the yard to finish up his job of the hour.
Katsuki laughs to himself as he feels Izuku's eyes on him the entire time. Always, he felt those eyes on him— sweeping across Katsuki like he held the secrets of the universe beneath his sternum.
It was a rush. A luxury that half of him felt he deserved and that the other half desperately worked for.
He shoves his boot against the head of his rake, digging it as deep as it can go in the earth. Izuku hadn't requested this but Katsuki was building him long rows of sunflowers to outline the sidewalk.
How presumptuous for him to not even consult his master before he changes the makeup of his yard, right?
But this spot was in perfect view from Izuku's bedroom. In the mornings, when the light was low on this side of the house, the sunflowers would remind him of everything good in the world.
And, after the sun has risen higher in the sky and painted the ground yellow and bright, the sunflowers might just make Izuku think of Katsuki. Was it selfish to want Izuku to think of him always?
It wasn't much off from what already happened.
Though Katsuki has already gotten into the rhythm of sowing the ground, Izuku's eyes have not left him. Katsuki can see him in the same position as before, legs curled beneath him and palms flat against the earth. His reflections in the rakes and shovels are warped, but it's still him, watching Katsuki.
Every so often, under the pretense of taking a breather, Katsuki will lift his head up and watch how Izuku's eyes crinkle at the corners as he unwittingly smiles. Watches how he blushes deep and red when Katsuki stretches a crick out of his neck and groans purposefully loud.
Sweat pools down his bare back and Katsuki doesn't have to glance up to know Izuku is following the trails they daub across the small curve at the base of his spine.
Katsuki finishes the first few rows where the seeds would need to be planted, and still Izuku has done nothing more than stare.
Katsuki wants to hold him.
A breeze dances between them, curling around their bodies and urging them closer.
Katsuki contemplates resisting for a moment, thinking first of the work he has to get done today. Second of the chance that Izuku may just be content in ogling and not actually feeling him. If maybe he was risking it all on an inkling, a hope, a dream.
He doesn't think of anything third, because Izuku perks up when Katsuki turns to him, handsome face melting from a pleased smile to an enamored, open-mouthed gaze.
Never before had Izuku seen Katsuki look like that before; never so vulnerable than he looked in that moment. His eyes were awash with want, and they were focused only on Izuku.
They both seem to hypnotize one another, all at once.
Katsuki steps forward, hesitant as the shovel lands soft in the dirt, and Izuku shifts a leg beneath him to stand.
They move together, closer.
How desperately selfish they were, to do this to the other.
Izuku shoves hair from his face, wavy like layered grooves in a cliffside or rivers cutting through a forest like a new wonder of the world. Would Katsuki want to see the world with him?
Katsuki holds his hand out to him, hands rugged and cut and harsh. But gentle, for once offering everything he could. Would Izuku be content with a rough hand such as this, holding his close?
The wind picks up and pushes them closer.
They meet in the middle.
The yard is completely open, to both the air and the stare of any help that might be watching. Katsuki doesn't care, and neither does Izuku. Not when they touch, skin to skin.
First a little, like the spill of a cup, and then a lot: like a tsunami.
Katsuki crashes his full body against Izuku and drags him down to the earth, toppling him down down down like a dragon taking out a mountain. Izuku flops to the grass with hardly a sound beyond tinkling laughter.
"Kacchan," Izuku sighs, voice strumming across Katsuki like gentle chords from an old guitar.
"Deku," Katsuki responds, straddling Izuku's waist. Their fingers are weaved tight together, like yarn in a mitten, and he squeezes down when Izuku murmurs something soft and sweet beneath his breath.
"Is this okay?" Izuku asks, as if he wasn't shoved down flat by his groundskeeper and about to be ravished like a meal for a starving man. Katsuki desperately wants to know how he tastes.
"You hold the power, young master." As always, the title is a joke, a tease. This time it was a plea, too. Katsuki lifts their joined palms and presses the back of Izuku's to his mouth as he says, "My life is in your hands."
The words wound Izuku, accidentally. If he were a better person…
Izuku's fingers loosen, but not to pull away.
Katsuki kisses them as they go, and then sucks in a breath when Izuku presses them to Katsuki's jaw and pulls him in close. He holds all of Katsuki in the palm of his hands, and he treats him gently like Katsuki always knew he would.
"Katsuki." Izuku whispers his name like a promise and the world's sweetest curse. There wasn't much that Katsuki could offer to Izuku beyond his body and his work, but he would promise it all just for him to say his name like that again.
Izuku nods encouragingly when Katsuki begins to thumb at the few buttons still done in his shirt. Katsuki was already shirtless, always was when Izuku was around.
Still, the motion of trust leaves his heart feeling thick and syrupy inside, sticking to his ribs with every beat of it. His lover trembles as Katsuki kisses across where Izuku's own hides, peeling the shirt off of him and offering him up to the sunlight.
As more and more of his skin gets revealed with each button that gets unlatched, Katsuki falls deeper in love with him.
Izuku is broad all over. His chest is wide and full, and his belly is stout and strong. His shoulders are broad as ever, and if he were ever anything but soft, he'd be imposing. Now, he's water in Katsuki's hands— or clay, ready and waiting to be lovingly shaped by him.
Izuku shivers when he swipes his fingers across the thick of his skin. He's covered in hair, dark but thin and soft. Katsuki likes the feel of it against his knuckles, and then against his chin when he leans down, briefly, to hear how his heart beats in his chest.
Izuku lets him do as he will, encouraging by the hand cradling the back of Katsuki's head. He keeps him close, desperate and clinging, but lets Katsuki explore at his own pace.
He stops breathing when Katsuki kisses at his neck, teeth nibbling at the heartbeat felt through his veins there. And he starts breathing again, deeper, when Katsuki whispers his name: "Izuku."
Katsuki thumbs at the hair sprouting from Izuku's chin, rubbing across the stubbly hairs until he's satisfied. Then he presses a kiss to it, the curve of his chin. Izuku whimpers, almost, or moans maybe. It all gets lost in the loud silence of his own head, focused on Katsuki and Katsuki alone.
Freckles dot his young master all over, carefully placed in each inch of his skin as if the painter of life wanted to be sure they were appreciated. Katsuki appreciates them happily, lips grazing them over and over and over again.
They arc all the way across Izuku's breast until they get hidden from sight by the shirt still wrapped around Izuku's arms and back.
Katsuki lets them hide away, and promises himself to give them as much attention as Izuku can stand, later.
Instead, Katsuki wants to kiss him. Wants to brush their lips together and feel the tingle of it echo across his skin, and he wants to see how Izuku would react to it. Would he still blush pretty and coyly twist away, or would his eyes go wide like he wanted more?
Katsuki has to shove his knee against the grass to get high enough again, and Izuku grunts as the weight of Katsuki comes to rest flat against his chest. His hand, at the back of Katsuki's neck, tightens briefly to keep both of them steady, and the other only idly squeezes at Katsuki's wrist when they settle in their new position.
He's waiting, breathless from the way Katsuki laved love across his skin moments prior.
His lips part when Katsuki stares at them, and he bites his lip when Katsuki doesn't instantly give him what he wants.
So, Katsuki kisses him.
For Izuku, it's like everything he'd ever dreamed. He feels like he's drowning in stardust, or like Katsuki was reaching into him deep inside and tying their souls together. It's only a kiss, but… it's everything.
It's a chaste kiss, lips against lips and barely anything more. Izuku fleetingly opens his mouth to gasp, and their tongues hardly brush before Katsuki pulls away.
For once, he's blushing in the way he makes Izuku blush every day. Instead of like gold, he's like the blooming peonies in the garden, fragile and soft and oh so beautiful.
Izuku pulls him back for another kiss. And another, and another, until they're drunk off the taste of one another. It's overwhelming and addicting, finally doing this.
Neither of them can ever go back to being the same after this. No more uncertain glances or wistful stares from the shadows.
No, now they get something better.
They get to have each other.
---
"I've never kissed anyone before," Izuku admits, softly against the curve of Katsuki's cheek when they end up just holding one another in the soft grass. The hurricane of their want passed, but who could say if it was over or if they were just in the eye of the storm.
They're twined together, face pressed to face and chest pressed to chest. Izuku can feel Katsuki's rumble when he laughs and speaks, and it's more than Izuku ever imagined.
"Mm. Me neither."
Katsuki tilts his head back to watch as Izuku hides his smile away. Katsuki brushes hair from his face so he can see it anyway.
"Guess we'll be teaching each other, hm?"
Izuku wraps his arm tight across Katsuki's chest to hold him close, as he'd always longed to do. Katsuki feels himself melt the embrace, and presses his lips to the tip of Izuku's nose just to look him directly in the eye, just as he's always wanted.
Maybe they weren't so selfish after all.