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Katsuki’s not really too interested in the festival.
Deku keeps getting distracted by the lanterns, the sweets, candy apples, and of course – his fucking friends. Katsuki rolls his eyes every time another extra joins them to stroll around the decorated path that leads to the beach, where they’ll be watching the firework display. And every time he rolls his eyes, Deku squeezes his fingers, tugs on his hand and pouts his pretty pink lips in a silent scold. It’s not threatening, but it isn’t meant to be – not coming from Deku.
It’s fucking cute. And in spite of everything, only makes Katsuki real hot in his pants. Not what Deku’s trying to do by batting his pretty long lashes with his wordless plea, mostly through his emerald eyes, telling Katsuki to behave – but what does he fucking expect when he’s dressed up and all fuckin’ pretty?
‘Specially under the golden lights.
They pour over Deku’s face like shimmering honey, like the freshest batch of it. And there are sparkles sitting in with the freckles on Deku’s face from the glittering blush Ochaco lended him that evening. Told him his eyes would pop or whatever.
Deku was unsure, at first. Shifted over to Katsuki, squirmed in place as he held the palette up to his face.
“Think it’ll look good, Kacchan?”
Katsuki held himself from kissing Deku’s lips swollen right fuckin’ there—where’s his goddamn cookie for that, by the way?—But to do that, he couldn’t move his lips, open his mouth – nothing that could fuckin’ lead to Katsuki swallowing Deku’s entire face. So, he nodded. Hummed. And tapped on the golden sparkly blush in the corner of the palette.
Deku beamed and he placed a chaste kiss right at the corner of Katsuki’s mouth. Katsuki could’ve busted a fuckin’ nut right there.
He probably would’ve, just last year. Maybe. Back when they first started dating. Everything was so fuckin’ new then. Their second year at UA. Katsuki’s cheeks would burn every time he got to hold Deku’s hand. He’d stare at Deku for most of class and would get all giddy when he would purposely brush his knee against Deku’s at their lunch table, and Deku would allow it. Mostly just couldn’t believe that he actually managed to win Midoriya fucking Izuku over.
The first time they fucked, Katsuki came as soon as he put the tip in.
Yeah. He knows. Trust him, he fucking knows, okay?
It wasn’t his proudest moment – but only Deku was there to witness it, obviously. And Katsuki was always allowed to be fuckin’ weak around Deku, so – so fuckin’ what. Sue him, whatever. Blah!
Anyways: Deku had jolted, not ready for the warmth and the feeling of being filled (‘cuz yeah, Deku let him hit it fuckin’ raw. and yeah, it was magical.), and stared up at Katsuki. All flushed cheeks and teary eyes, overwhelmed and whatever other sappy shit Deku typically felt on a daily basis.
“Ka,” Deku stopped. Swallowed. And stared at Katsuki confused. “Kacchan, did—?”
“One fuckin’ minute,” Katsuki gritted. His face burned hot and he was panting hard against Deku’s freckled collarbone as his hips jerked so hard he ended up thrusting his entire length into Deku. “Fuck – fuck. One minute. ‘M – I can fuckin’ go again, just gimme a second.”
He needed more than a second, more than a minute. Needed like seven and Deku ran his fingers through Katsuki’s blond strands for all seven, until Katsuki was ready to get it up again and fuck Deku into a blubbering mess. Which he did in the end, thanks so fuckin’ much – Deku gave him an extra long kiss at the end of it.
But anyways — he’s grown now. He’s learned from his mistakes and he isn’t a kid busting his load in half a second, you know? He’s a man. Not a fuckin’ loser virgin anymore. He can hold off now.
At least, it’s what he tells himself as he looks at the literal fuckin’ glow around Deku on the beach. Fuck. Fuck, he’s so fucking lucky, sometimes it blows Katsuki’s goddamn head off his neck.
Deku’s yukata is pastel olive green with pink accents. A large pink bow is tied at his back and it sits nice and pretty atop his perky little ass. He’s even curled his hair so it’s all loose and pretty with the way it swirls around his freckled ears. Slipped on some earrings, too. Crystals hanging a little long from them and they look so fucking good with his glossy lips every time he moves and smiles – Katsuki could just watch him all fucking night, holy shit.
“Kacchan?”
Katsuki blinks. He tightens his hold on Deku’s hand, entwines their fingers so they’re locked together more firmly and hums.
“Yeah? Need somethin’?”
Deku furrows his brow and shakes his head.
“Mm-mn. Just wondering if you’re okay. You’ve, umm. You’ve been really quiet all night? Even before we left. Is … everything okay?”
Aw. What a fuckin’ angel.
Katsuki steps close to get into Deku’s space. Enough so his left foot is sliding between both of Deku’s. And so his knees are bumping between his boyfriend’s thighs. He’s gotta lean down to press his lips against Deku’s ear, ‘cuz the fucker is so damn tiny – and his lips quirk at how warm the soft skin of Deku’s lobe is. His jewelry’s cool against him.
“‘M fine, baby. With you, ain’t I?” Katsuki moves his head and presses a kiss to Deku’s forehead instead. “Doesn’t get any fuckin’ better than this, yeah?”
“Kacch–Kacchan.”
Deku pushes Katsuki back a little by his shoulders with a strawberry blush over his cheeks. He twists his lips into a small pout and crosses his arms over his chest as he stares up at Katsuki.
“You can’t say and do things like that and not give me a real kiss.”
Katsuki laughs.
“What, you want a kiss? Not gonna ask for it nicely?”
“Don’t tease me…”
“‘M not teasin’, baby. Just sayin’, I thought I taught you manners.”
Deku’s pout deepens. “But it’s my birthday.”
“In thirty minutes.”
Deku huffs and mumbles, “Meanie,” before pulling away from Katsuki and beginning to stalk off somewhere else. Katsuki cackles behind him and follows without hesitation.
He’s only being mean to Deku ‘cuz the nerd is really fucking cute. In thirty minutes, it’ll be 12 AM, officially the 15th of July. They’re out here at the festival as pre-celebration to Deku’s birthday, because when it comes to this occasion - there has to be levels. Deku deserves them.
The month is his, so Katsuki’s automatically a little sweeter to Deku. Spoils him a little more. Then, the week of his birthday is when all the events take place. A diner for breakfast one day, a nice lake for lunch the next, a romantic Dorm-made dinner in Katsuki’s room, and so on.
Then, the day of.
Before, there’s the pre-celebration: right now, the festival. Then, when they head to bed and wake up the next day, he’ll get breakfast, gifts, spend the day with his friends. Have an ‘everyone who is important to Deku’ party – the main event. Then, after all’s said and done, Deku will get the real main event.
It involves less clothes, a nice bed, a door with a lock, and of course: Katsuki.
Now, Katsuki’s a patient man.
Well.
Okay, so that’s a fucking lie.
He should say he's patient when it comes to Deku.
Deku is rambling? Katsuki will sit through it. Deku is crying about something and can’t get his words out for the next thirty minutes? Katsuki will wait forty-five. Deku’s pissed at Katsuki and refuses to talk to him for fucking days so Katsuki has to wait until the fucker is ready to use his Big Boy words and tell Katsuki what the fuck it is he got wrong? A little irritating, yeah. Sure. But you know what, Katsuki’s gonna bite his fucking tongue and wait those days, goddamnit.
If that’s what Deku needs, he’ll do it. He’ll wait and wait and he’ll fucking wait, even if it means he’s gotta wait in his fucking grave for his lover to join him beyond the physical world – he won’t move a fucking muscle.
But. Some things – some fucking things.
Like watching the way Deku moves with the gentle music the festival is playing tonight. Watching the way he runs his fingers through his curls. The way he hangs on to his friends arms – just so pretty, so fucking pretty existing like he isn’t breathtakingly beautiful.
Well. Some things … Katsuki just doesn’t have the patience for.
And consuming Midoriya Izuku is one of those things.
So maybe he’s grabbing Deku’s hand when they’re twenty minutes away from it being Deku’s birthday.
And maybe he’s tugging him into a quieter area of the festival, behind a wall of brick where the lights aren’t shining and glowing, and the music becomes a distant thought. Leaves Katsuki’s mind with the rest of the festival, with the rest of the fucking world because god – isn’t is so fucking funny, how big things like that just cease to exist when he’s got Deku in his arms?
This fucking Deku. Beautiful, and tiny, and perfect and pretty, pretty, pretty, and all fucking his —
So, yeah.
Yeah, okay. Maybe it’s fifteen minutes until 12 AM, then fourteen until it’s officially Deku’s birthday when Katsuki’s getting his lips on Deku. Maybe Katsuki’s breaking the entire course of things by mixing the real main event with the pre-event, but who really gives a fuck about that stupid structured shit anyway?
In fact! — Who's to say Deku can’t get two real main events?
And you know what? Deku fucking deserves two real main events. He deserves this one and the next because Katsuki can provide it and Midoriya Izuku deserves abso-fucking-lutely any and every part of Katsuki, that he is able to give.
“Kacchan,” Deku’s gasping into Katsuki’s mouth at 11:49 PM. “Kacchan, you— o-ohh.”
His hands are on Katsuki’s wrist, head to the side because they’ve just started to announce how they’re getting ready for the fireworks show. His eyes hold the moon in the reflection of them, and he parts his lips like he wants to say something about missing the show – like he wants to tell Katsuki that they’re public, that they shouldn’t.
But he’s pushing up against Katsuki at 11:50 PM. Throwing his head back against the wall with a moan when Katsuki’s hand slides into his Yukata at 51. He rolls his hips up, fucking himself on Katsuki’s fingers ar 53. Letting Katsuki kiss down his neck, and messing with his pants to get his fingers around Katsuki’s cock at 56.
Katsuki kisses Deku. Again and again and again.
“I got my birthday kiss,” Deku says, panting. Breathless. So fucking beautiful. “You always spoil me.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki whispers. He’s squeezing Deku’s thighs, hoisting him so his legs wrap around his waist at 58 as he steals another kiss from Deku’s mouth, lining himself up. “I exist to fucking spoil you, Princess.”
12 AM, the fireworks light up and Katsuki’s pushing into Deku.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Katsuki breathes against Deku’s mouth.
Kisses down his chin, his neck as he tugs his hips back, and thrusts up again. Deku’s pussy squeezes around him, grips him as rolls up and up and up. He pushes Deku’s back up against the brick wall, holds him place to fuck him as literal fucking sparks go off. The fireworks light up the entire beach, the entire pathway to the beach, a little bit of the alley Katsuki’s using to take Deku.
“Kacch—hah, ah!” Deku’s fingers sink into Katsuki’s shoulders.
He bows his head, leans forward so his forehead is pressed against Katsuki’s burning one. He cups his neck in that cute, needy way he always does, clearly already fuckin’ close. He rolls his hips up, his pussy’s slick is wetting Katsuki’s dick, and it squelches every time Katsuki’s balls slap up against his lips. The space around them is chilled with the wind, but warm between their bodies. Filled with pants, gasps, moans, and the sound of slapping skin, of their beating hearts. Then the fireworks, the cheering, the singing in the distance.
This is perfect, this is so fucking perfect and Deku feels so goddamn good.
“I love you,” Katsuki rasps, suddenly.
Because he feels it in his entire chest, with his whole fucking heart. Feels it everywhere, all the time, and especially right fucking now. Thank god for the 15th of July – thank god for the day the soul of his fucking life was born. Because this is more than love, more than what language could ever communicate. He feels it in his bones, beneath his skin, all the layers of it, past his lungs, in the stream of his blood.
“I love you, Izuku. I love this fucking day because I fucking love you.”
“You–” Deku’s breath stutters, instantly.
He curls even further into Katsuki. Tries to get his nails deeper into skin, whines almost mournfully as he rocks his hips, squeezes his thighs tighter around Katsuki’s torso. Deku shakes his head, gasping, crying, sobbing.
“This — isn’t - isn’t fair, Kacchan. Can’t – you can’t make me cry on my birthday! Not fair–this isn’t fair.”
“You stupid, lovable, princess of a fuckin’ nerd,” Katsuki breathes out his laugh. “No matter what I did, no matter what I fuckin’ said – you’d still cry.”
Deku only squeezes his thighs tighter around Katsuki and shudders with a sob as he cums.
Katsuki breathes as he tilts his head back.
He feels the chilled air of the breeze from the ocean. Tastes the salt on his tongue and can’t tell if it’s actually from the fucking ocean – or if he’s just got a taste of Deku’s tears after kissing him. He doesn’t care. It’s fucking beautiful.
Thank the fucking heavens for the fifteenth of July.
This is his skin, his bones, and his love.
And his love, and his love, and his love.