Unlike their previous encounters, this encounter was... quite different.

As Katsuki minded his business and patrolled the ocean with his usual rounds. He gathered updates on the mermaids and allowed the cycle of life to do its job. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The prey was preyed upon. The weak were eaten by the strong. The extreme shit living in the deepest, darkest parts of the twilight zone stayed in their lane. Everything was alright, but then he sniffed the distinct smell of blood.

He stiffened and wrinkled his nose. He traced back to the source of that smell and found it. To a human, it must have looked like an unwelcomed smudge. Even though Katsuki could fool people into thinking that he was a human at first glance, he was a merman, and merfolk have excellent eyesight.

Therefore, Katsuki managed to discern what, or rather, who it was. He was not a mysterious blob. He was not some unidentifiable object in the distance. No, he was more special and important than that.

A lump formed at the base of his throat once Katsuki realized who it was, and the merman made a mad dash and prayed with all his might that he wasn't too late. A shark was tailing after the selkie, who was in his seal form, as he struggled to swim away from the carnivore. Thankfully, a large chunk wasn't missing from the seal, but Katsuki could tell he was bleeding profusely. There was a deep gash on the lower end of his tail.

The shark was trying to exsanguinate him, typical of their hunting habits, waiting for the seal to bleed out until he lost consciousness from the blood loss. The water surrounding him was painted red, and it only tempted the predator even more to follow him.

Katsuki panicked when he saw the jaws of death unhinged. He propelled forward and intervened. In a matter of seconds, he smacked into its enormous body and shielded Izuku. Katsuki's chest heaved up and down, his heart racing a million beats per minute. If he was a second too late, the selkie would have died.

Of course, the shark was furious, angry that its meal was taken away right under its nose, but the shark didn't attack Katsuki. Like all sea animals, the shark knew the basic rule to never mess with him. It knew where it stood in the food chain compared to the merman.

Katsuki's eyes glowed, flashing as a warning to show who was boss. As the shark swam away, Katsuki grabbed Izuku's unmarred flipper and assisted him back to the surface. It was a rough swim, but there was a clear attempt at being gentle. However, the seal was dead weight. Katsuki practically had to haul the selkie back to shore.

Izuku was panting heavily as Katsuki dragged him to dry lands.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," the merman said urgently as he shook Izuku.

Katsuki thought he was above this, saving strangers from peril like a hero, and yet look at him, flopping like a disaster to save one stupid selkie. He was making the same damn mistake.

Izuku weakly lifted his head and looked at him groggily, and Katsuki used this opportunity to keep him awake. His cold, clammy hands slapped against what he assumed were the seal's cheeks. Izuku groaned as he brushed against his whiskers.

If this wasn't a stressful situation, Katsuki would have taken the time to feel them, measure how long they were in his fingertips, but this was dire. He shouldn't be wasting time pondering over whiskers. Time was of the essence.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he whispered.

He felt sorry as the selkie groaned pitifully, but he had to drag him away from the ocean to do what he needed to do. Izuku left a trail of blood in the sand, but that was a minor issue. After all, the ocean would wash it away in due time.

The heat of the afternoon sun was hot, but at least there were no humans in sight since Katsuki had the foresight to swim to a secluded area where humans seldom roamed around.

Once he made sure Izuku was comfortable, he then instructed, "Peel off the coat."

Izuku's breathing was heavy and harsh. He exerted himself to reach land, and that effort took a toll on his body. However, hearing Katsuki's words made him eerily silent to the point that the merman feared the selkie breathed his last.

"Let me help you," Katsuki told him, earnest and true. "It'll help if you took it off."

It was easier said than done.

He knew the importance of stripping off the coat in front of another, the intimacy the action held. To undress and bare themselves in that position was reserved for family and lovers, and Katsuki was none of the above.

For a moment, Izuku bore his eyes into Katsuki's. Perhaps it was the blood loss or the merman's natural charm. Perhaps it was the way he mesmerizingly wormed his way into Izuku's thoughts, distracting him from his mission to find what was missing. Either way, Izuku has reached a consensus. He shapeshifted back into a human.

The experience was like no other. It was hard to describe it in words. Rather, it was easier to describe what it wasn't. It was not like taking off a tight bodysuit or peeling off layers of clothing. It was not like unwrapping a scarf or slipping off a thin layer of stockings.

Izuku was one with the coat, and the coat was one with him. Parting from it was like parting a chip of his soul, and though the excruciating pain was not a corporeal, it went beyond that.

The transformation was complete, and Izuku held his coat close to his chest to preserve a modicum of modesty. He felt naked, exposed. Normally he would have a stack of clothes by his side to change into, but here, there was nothing. There was only Katsuki.

A light pink blush dusted his cheeks, but his silence turned into a hiss as the coat shifted his leg. Blood seeped into the sand. The wound itself look gruesome, and the flesh seemed damaged and irreparable.

Katsuki grimaced.

Then his eyes trailed to the selkie's arms. With his help, the wound would only leave scars, just like the ones on Izuku's arms. However, he stared at the scars on his arms in concern because scars like that don't come from natural occurrences. Scars like that come from abuse and with the intention to leave them behind as a reminder. He wondered if they were caused by humans.

Dwelling upon those scars were maddening. He chose to distract himself and lifted Izuku's leg closer to his face. The action slightly jostled his leg and caused the selkie to hitch his breath sharply. The sudden sting brought tears to his eyes.

Sure, he had a considerable high pain tolerance, but as a reminder, he was just mauled by a shark. He had a good reason to complain since a portion of his leg was chewed up.

Tears appeared at the corners of Katsuki's eyes, leaking out until they slid down his cheeks and dripped into Izuku's disfigured ankle.

Izuku's voice wavered, his words getting more and more slurred.

"What are you-"

What happened next was plain magic. His leg was illuminated and enveloped by a soft orange glow, and this process continued for a couple of minutes until Izuku felt the telltale signs of healing. Little by little the flesh repaired itself as if an invisible thread stitched his skin back together. The sensation sent tingles down his spine and ignited fire in his veins. It felt warm, comforting, and safe.

Izuku closed his eyes, relishing this magical moment, and shuddered as the merman rubbed his arm with soothing strokes to ground him, remind him that he was here for him. For that, Izuku was grateful.

He wondered if everyone who was fortunate enough to experience mermaid tears felt like this as well. Katsuki was beautiful like this, crying crystallized miracles into his very being. There was a sense of joy that overwhelmed him. It was like sunbathing out by the beaches in his seal form, except that the heat from the sun was contained in his chest.

"Thank you," he said in a warbled voice, tired and weary.

Katsuki wiped away the stray tears at the corners of his eyes and brushed back Izuku's green strands. In turn, the selkie pressed his sweaty forehead against his palm as thanks.

Katsuki reminded him of the first time he poked a giant sea green anemone when he was a little pup. One touch, and they both close themselves from the world. However, Izuku was patient, persistent, because when something strikes his curiosity, he latches onto the object of his attention like glue.

The adrenaline rush gradually subsided, and Izuku let out a heavy sigh and relaxed. His eyelids were heavy, but he cannot afford to sleep at the middle of nowhere.

Katsuki glanced at the selkie's leg, newly healed and unblemished besides a few jagged scars that ran from his calf to his heel. Then he redirected his eyes to the soft gray pelt he discarded at his hip, a beautiful dappled coat that looked soft to touch.

Katsuki bit his lower lip.

He was no backwatered individual who was clueless about the social cues of a selkie shedding his skin in front of a stranger. It was scandalous. Yet, this was a monumental gesture of trust, and though Katsuki wished the selkie removed his coat for different circumstances, he had to make this right. He owed it to him.

"I'm not done yet," he said, still gripping his ankle.

Izuku blinked. "What do you mean?"

He simply wanted clarification, but his answer came in the form of Katsuki's breath fanning across his ankle. Before he could register what was next, sharp canines pierced his skin. Izuku gasped as a pleasurable jolt skimmed down his leg, churning his insides. The bite was deep, enough for the merman to draw out blood.

A whine escaped Izuku's throat as he clutched his coat tighter, bunching the fur around his fingers. He felt the burn; it was if the merman plunged his leg into a molten sea of lava. He squirmed, the instinctual need to pull his leg away overcoming his need to stay close to Katsuki, but the merman held his leg tighter in anticipation of this reaction. Their eyes held in a gaze, their hearts aflutter with only Izuku's heavy breathing to fill in the silence. It felt like eons until Katsuki let go, his tongue lapping at the remaining beads of blood, the selkie's coppery taste flooding his senses.

His thumb swiped against the mark on Izuku's ankle. He hummed a pleasant sound. Izuku watched in fascination as Katsuki brought his thumb to his lips and licked away the last traces of his blood. The bite mark glowed bright and true, eventually shaping itself into an orange-colored cross on the back of his heel. A flash of possession shadowed Katsuki's face, but that can't be right. It must have been a trick of the light.

"There," he said. "All done."

Izuku dropped his coat at his side, bent over his knees, and traced the outline of the cross with his fingers. He gently brushed against it. Only a dull ache was left. The searing pain he felt was gone.

"It's my mark," Katsuki explained before the selkie could question him.

"Why?" Izuku asked.

He was lost, but then again, he was always lost.

He was lost when he abandoned his son, leaving him to fend against the world for seven years. He was lost when he returned to the sea, for he was reminded again of the lonely nature of selkies and their tragic fate. He was lost when he met Katsuki and his pretty red eyes, forever straying him further away from his search.

He was lost and searched for guidance.

He was lost and found Katsuki instead.

In a moment of softness, Katsuki reached over and brushed away the selkie's bangs, tucking away some loose strands behind his ear. Izuku stared at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates. Realizing what he had done, the merman coughed away the awkward air between them. He forgot that he was caught in the moment, but there was nothing wrong with grooming the selkie's untamed hair. It was so messy and unkempt. It was worse than a tangle of seaweed. The selkie was practically asking for his help.

"Selkies are powerful," Katsuki said.

Stories of vengeful selkies reached far and wide, for even though they were gentler than merfolk, their rage was legendary. People drowned for their mistakes. Landscapes changed when they met with their fury. Katsuki knew better than to mess with them.

"But," he paused, "They're not invincible."

The incident today attested to his statement.

Izuku hummed as he clumsily stood up with sea legs. His coat wrapped around his torso like an overgrown towel to give him some dignity rather than flashing his junk. After all, he doesn't want to be known as a nudist to the locals here. He already got strange looks from the year he resided here.

"Well, thank you for your concern," he voiced his gratitude.

An honest smile lit up his face.

His eyelids were half-mast. "But…" Izuku licked his lips as he tiptoed his words. "Doesn't this mark," he said and lifted his leg to give the merman an unneeded view of his ankle and more skin, "Doesn't this symbolize that I'm yours?"

The selkie was coy. He knew what he wanted. Katsuki's tail thumped against the surface of the water in embarrassment. The merman felt like pulling his hair out of their roots.

"Don't get any wrong ideas!" he said hotly and averted his eyes.

Izuku poked his tongue through his teeth, amused. "What should I think about then?"

"Stop doing that," Katsuki huffed and splashed water at the selkie's feet.

Though it would have been a small, petty victory, he hoped that he got the coat wet.

"Doing what?"

Cheeky little shit.

"This is only to protect you," Katsuki snapped back, "Since I enjoyed your company more than expected."

He clawed the sand and grinded his teeth. The selkie heckled him so much. He doesn't know why he was attracted to such a stupid selkie in the first place. The mark would glow at the face of danger. It was like a warning signal for whoever was foolish enough to approach Izuku and attack him. Any creature with half a brain would leave the selkie alone unless they wanted to incur the merman's wrath.

"It would be a damn shame," he continued, "If you died through natural causes like being shark food."

"I see," said the selkie, who crouched down closer.

"But, if you don't want it," Katsuki backtracked, "I can easily remove it and-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as the selkie tackled him to the ground. He burrowed his head underneath his neck, right at his collarbone.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered, sweet and thick like honey.

The selkie closed his eyes and held on tight. He repeated his thanks like a mantra until it was the only sound Katsuki could hear. Though the merman does not fully understand the enormity of this gesture, it meant everything to Izuku because out there, it was a dog-eat-dog world, a place where nobody lent a hand and the losers had to fend for themselves.

Izuku was accustomed to that heartless, merciless world.

His instructions were simple. His fate was already laid out for him. Go find a widow. Get hitched. Return to the sea. Repeat the cycle again until his untimely death.

He had forgotten that he was no slave to his biological instructions, that he had the freedom to choose a different path. His eyes flickered to Katsuki, this wonderful, grumpy merman who was too good for his own good. He knew what he wanted to pursue.

They were chest to chest, skin to skin, as Katsuki tried his best to wriggle his way out of the hug because that was not a tail rubbing against his scales. However, it was a losing battle from the start. The merman eventually gave up with a huff and laid there on the sand with the selkie on top of him. Katsuki carded through the green locks absentmindedly as the selkie hummed in delight, rubbing his cheek against cushioned pecs.

This felt nice, he guessed, for Katsuki never felt this whole because no one bothered to care about him this much for centuries besides Mina. Katsuki wondered if he qualified as Izuku's friend, but for certain there was a connection, a profound bond they shared that they cannot simply ignore because here the two found solace in each other. Here they found another person who was just as lost as themselves.

"So, why were you fighting against a shark like a maniac, hm?" Katsuki asked to keep the conversation going.

Izuku, aroused from his dream-like state, peeled himself off the merman and lifted his head. Katsuki saw his pout.

"What makes you think I intentionally fought that shark?"

"You fought against me," he interjected.

Touché.

Izuku rested his head on Katsuki's chest once more and sighed. "My friends," he began, "They were in danger."

Katsuki quirked one eyebrow. "Friends?"

Izuku limply nodded his head. "Yes, my friends." He snorted. "My world doesn't revolve around you, you know."

Apparently, the merman didn't take that comment too kindly as he slapped his behind with a light smack. Damn, that ass was firm.

"Did you just-"

Katsuki gave him a smirk, and that was the perfect fuel to fan Izuku's revenge for his perky ass. The selkie scrambled to tickle the merman's underarms even though there was no concrete evidence that he was ticklish. He wrung out a couple laughs, some that sounded like tinkering bells, and stopped shortly after because Izuku was mesmerized by Katsuki's smile. It was more precious than any gem. It was brighter than any star.

Then Katsuki caught his wrists with a few stray snickers leaving his lips.

"Continue," the merman asked of him and batted his eyelashes to mock him.

Izuku jerked his head away to show he wouldn't.

"Please," Katsuki crooned teasingly and leaned forward to nip his cheek playfully.

Izuku pushed his face away with an upturned nose and a hint of a smile on his face. There was much coddling to be done before Izuku could relent since he wasn't that easy. Eventually he did relent because he doesn't want to jostle himself too much. After all, he was still drained from the accelerated healing he just went through.

"I don't know what overcame that shark…" Izuku trailed off with a far-off look. The cogs in his brain were working, but something was missing. "My friends were diving today, so I was chaperoning them."

He felt bothered as he retraced his steps. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the shark seemed more feral, more out-of-control before Katsuki intervened. He assumed the shark was starving, but now that he had time to reflect, Izuku wasn't confident if his observations were correct.

"Then I noticed it was coming straight for us."

He warned Iida and Kirishima to disperse and reach dry land as soon as possible. The shark seemed crazed and full of bloodlust. Typically, they don't expend this much energy for a meager meal, but this particular one seemed fixated on Izuku. He was a fighter, but sharks were apex predators for a reason.

After that, the rest was history because then he realized one important tidbit. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be wasting his time mooning over a merman. Knowing Iida and Kirishima, they must have been worried sick for him.

He furrowed his brows.

"I should leave," he announced and removed himself from Katsuki.

His body was a traitor as it mourned the loss of the merman's inner heat, but Izuku was stronger than his impulses.

"My friends, they're…"

He combed his hair in distress. Even though it was still daytime, dusk was fast approaching.

"Oh no," he clicked his tongue, "And Oliver…"

Oliver was going to be upset if he doesn't see him.

Katsuki was quick to catch on. Though he was not a fan of humans, he understood the concept of friendship. He doesn't want to pry too deeply into earthly affairs, but he was lying if he said he wasn't curious.

"Oliver?" he asked hesitantly.

Uneasiness churned in his gut.

"Do you have someone…"

Izuku laughed. "Hold your horses there," he said and made some stopping motions.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. "The fuck is a horse?"

The next second Izuku exploded into laughter, holding his stomach as he failed to contain himself. No offense, but his laugh was still ugly as fuck, and yet Katsuki was still captivated by the selkie's godawful snorts. He doesn't know what was wrong with him. No creature should fall for such cringeworthy laughs.

"A horse is," Izuku broke off and laughed behind his fist. "Sorry, sorry," he wheezed, "It's just-"

Then he laughed even harder.

Katsuki wrinkled his nose. God, why does he love that laugh? It's so ugly.

The merman popped his knuckles as the murderous intent to explode the selkie's cackling face radiated off him. Too bad he doesn't have the ability to do that anymore.

"You know what," Izuku calmed down and let out a snicker, "It's unimportant."

As if the fucker was aware of what his smiles did to him, he released a high beam one in his direction. It was deadly as hell. Overexposure could cause blushing, swooning, arousal, or all the above.

Katsuki was a brave soul to endure this much torture.

"But to answer your question," Izuku rubbed the back of his neck and smiled shyly, "No, I don't have someone like that waiting for me at home."

When he said that, he stared at Katsuki with a wily expression. It looked lonely, and the merman felt, in a horrified fashion he might add, a longing in his chest, the type that wanted to cradle his stupid seaweed head and comfort him with his melodious tunes. His fingers itched to hold him close. His webbed ears yearned to listen to his fluttering heartbeat. His mouth desired to taste… Taste what?

"Oliver is my pet," Izuku explained, unaware of Katsuki's inner combustion. "He tends to get clingy, and I don't want him to get stressed if I'm not home soon."

"I see," Katsuki replied, mind still perturbed by his carnal thoughts. He then asked, "Can I see you again?" He might as well initiate their meeting this time instead of accidentally stumbling into each other.

Izuku gave him his signature smile. The tail ends of his coat pooled around his feet as he slipped into it.

"Yeah, I'll come if you cry seven tears into the ocean," he said with a wink.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. In the lore, if a maiden cried seven tears into the sea, it would beckon a selkie. What a lame response. It was so lame that he rolled his way back to the ocean without a farewell, without even calling Izuku out that that trick would never work for him.

A routine began to form as Izuku and Katsuki solidified their friendship. Every morning Katsuki would perform his duties and socialize with the other mermaids. Occasionally he would be involved in some scuffles, but most of the time he would return to the shore unscathed where he would meet Izuku at the rendezvous, the place where Katsuki healed Izuku with his tears and granted him his mark.

Every late afternoon the merman would bestow him gifts, mostly in the form of squid and other sources of food. Izuku felt pity for the squad of squid laid at his feet.

He nudged one with his foot. "You don't expect me to eat all of this, right?"

"You're a seal," Katsuki stated the obvious. "You eat a lot."

Admittedly, seals can eat up to six percent of their body weight, which would estimate to an average of 50 pounds, but that need doesn't translate to his human form. His diet as a human was balanced and healthy.

"You don't like it?" Katsuki questioned, his tail flicking nervously in the water.

Izuku kneeled on all fours and began scooping the squid into a plastic container he brought with him. The first time Katsuki surprised him, he turned red as he hauled a year's worth of salmon on his back. People looked at him as if he was some fishy character. Yes, he was very fishy, but he wasn't suspicious.

"I do," he told Katsuki and glanced at him with a soft expression.

It would be impossible to consume all this squid. Perhaps he can share this with the neighbors.

"Good. You better," Katsuki puffed his chest and crossed his arms. "Took me at least an hour to gather that many."

Pride swelled within him. Izuku almost smeared squid juice all over his face before he placed his cheek on his hand. Katsuki was cute when he was like this.

"Never knew you were fishing for compliments," he joked, his tongue poking between his teeth.

Izuku blocked his face with a grin as Katsuki splashed saltwater into his face, but not before Izuku snatched a peck on the cheek to thank him.

The sea, it calls him, beckoning him to come home. It pulls him, grabbing hold of his soul and tugging him back to the water.

He tried.

He tried to resist that pull, fight against it with every fiber of his being, but he lost. The loss he felt was great. The loss he felt was too much for him to endure.

He cried as rivulets of blood marred his arms. He cried as he failed to hold onto what was important with these useless arms. He was weak, oh so weak.

He woke up with tears in his eyes and a scream begging to leave his lips. He ran to the beach, frantic, with his coat on his shoulders.

"Katsuki," he croaked and cried out pitifully.

The sting of his failures left him cold. He doesn't want to be alone. The worst part about being lost was the solitude.

The mark on his ankle glowed, a beacon of light in this dark and dreary night. Katsuki woke from his slumber and hurriedly broke the surface, his head swishing around to find him. Izuku was already a seal as he pounced on his back, rubbing his whiskered face between his shoulder blades as his weight made the merman collide into the bedrock. Katsuki's back was wet, and it was not because of the swim he just took.

Katsuki rolled around and patted Izuku's head. He shushed him. "It's going to be fine," he promised him as he guided his flipper to the deeper parts of the ocean.

Though he doesn't know the circumstances, though he doesn't know what Izuku lost, he understood the ache. He understood the hollow, crushing feeling of losing something that was cherished. It was a common thread among their kind.

"Let's go for a swim," he said because that was what they needed, to run away from the pain as much as possible.

For the rest of the night, that was what they did. They raced each other until they were exhausted and fatigued, until Iida found Izuku almost naked at the ocean bank, panting heavily from overexertion. Izuku was a lucky man to have such trustworthy friends, people who were willing to keep his secret to the grave. Though Iida was not there to see Katsuki crawl his way to the shore with Izuku in tow, he managed to catch a glimpse of a red, glimmering tail disappear into the horizon.

"You're here earlier than me."

Izuku removed the lid of his bento box, releasing the spicy aroma of his lunch to the unsuspecting merman. He flopped closer, curious, as Izuku used his chopsticks to offer him a bite.

"Taste some," he said. "You always got me something. It's about time I return the favor."

Katsuki scrunched his nose. "I'm not eating that."

"You won't know until you try."

"It's looks like you mutilated a bunch of eels with their blood."

Eating raw eel blood was poisonous for the average human, but that was beside the point.

The selkie defended his cooking. Sure, he was not a master chef, but his home-cooked meals were edible. "It's stir-fried noodles and vegetables with hot sauce."

He slurped his noodles slowly, eating them with fervor until his cheeks were puffed, to demonstrate that the noodles were safe to consume. He smacked his lips, his tongue peeking out to catch the sauce at the corner of his mouth. His advertisement pitch was quite persuasive.

"Just one bite," Katsuki compromised.

"One bite," Izuku nodded.

"Then you'll stop trying to feed me weird shit."

A heaping portion of noodles were centimeters from his face, pressing against his lips with gentle prods.

"Say ahh," Izuku cooed as he fed the blond his concoction.

Katsuki unwillingly opened his mouth and ate it, chewing it slowly to savor the taste. His mouth bursted with flavor and heat.

"Well?" Izuku asked, expecting him to scream bloody murder and dump his head into the ocean to wash away the spicy flavor. However, it backfired as Katsuki scarfed the down the noodles, eating it like a ravished animal until he licked the box clean. Tuna was good, but god damn noodles never tasted so delicious.

"More," he demanded, barely swallowing the rest.

He pushed the empty container to Izuku's chest. Flabbergasted, Izuku closed his gaping mouth.

"That was my lunch, you ass."

"You can make more," Katsuki replied.

Izuku puckered out his bottom lip. Katsuki returned him an impish grin.

"I barely got a taste," Izuku muttered.

Before Katsuki could tell him to suck it, the green-haired man took a literal approach. His hands reached around the back of Katsuki's neck, his nimble fingers tugging his strands with a fierce grip. Katsuki hissed by the unexpected force, but he welcomed the sting because he was caught under Izuku's spell, could feel himself freeze under those haunting green irises. The selkie could smell the faint spice from his breath.

"I worked extra hard making that," he whispered and took Katsuki in with a kiss.

Katsuki made a sound as he gripped Izuku's shoulders and trembled as the man parted and licked his lips apart with his tongue. He made a ravenous sound, one that went straight to his groin, as he explored the crevices in his mouth, tasting what Katsuki tasted, learning where he began and where he ended. He was addicting. He was fulfilling. He was too much.

Izuku parted from him abruptly, a thread of spit still stuck on his crimson, swollen lips. He touched them gently, embarrassed that he got engrossed with the mood. How unbecoming. He thought he was better restrained than that.

"More," he heard.

Izuku stilled.

His ears buzzed. The selkie had forgotten. The voice of a mermaid was infamous for a reason.

"More," Katsuki told him with a low timbre, eyes ablaze and hungry.

Izuku felt compelled to lean close, to feel, to taste him again until it was all he knew. Katsuki fixed the problem and closed the distance between them, his hand on the small of his back until their bodies slid together perfectly. He pulled backwards, back to the sea, back to where they belonged. Their hearts stuttered, quickening as their mouths melded again and again and again. Izuku's nails bit into his skin as he deepened the kiss. Katsuki returned the gesture with nips on his jaw, pausing to only hear Izuku hitch his breath whenever his teeth dug deeper than imagined. Katsuki never felt so full, so complete. He hoped Izuku would never let go.

Alas, that was how he would break, but unfortunately, that was another story for the future.