Simpler Things Chapter 18 - "(Let This) Be More"
After a long, messy night, Izuku and Ochako wake up haunted. Their first kiss was all wrong, but it’s not even about a kiss. Years of mutual yearning have taught them to close themselves off, to not be honest with each other. Not anymore.
It’s nothing like Izuku imagined.
Soft.
Too soft for the way his heart slams into his ribs. For the way his breath falters and the world shrinks down to a single point of contact. Her mouth, plush, and trembling, sloppily pressed against his. There’s no force to it, only desperation. Need. Longing. Raw and open and messy and tired. It steals the words of protest from his throat, literally. Burns the oxygen right out of his lungs. He doesn’t try to kiss her back. Not at first. He’s frozen in place, scared, worried.
And then he’s not.
There’s no structure or support. Izuku’s hand comes up to fix that, catching the side of her face, his thumb settling just below her ear. His lips part, just slightly, just enough to feel her bottom lip roll between his.
It clicks in that second. Barely there. A breath of a kiss. But finally, a real one. The second they get there, she leans in even more. Her weight presses into him, her chest against his, her thigh shifting over his waist as she deepens it without asking. Rough, sloppy, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, it’s clear she doesn’t either. Not that it matters.
His fingers slide back into her hair. He tries to meet her halfway, match her energy, copy her movements. It’s weird, and all over the place, and still… none of that matters. It’s happening. This is all he’s wanted for years, and it’s happening…
…and it's wrong.
He doesn’t deserve this, not really. Not when every warning bell he's ever learned is sounding in his ears, screaming that he should stop, that this shouldn’t happen, not now. But Ochako is sighing into him, breathing in his air and breathing out hers, tasting faintly of wine and barbeque and a flavor utterly unique to her. She’s breathing so heavily now, putting all of her energy into this, and it’s overwhelmingly difficult to break. Her thumb brushes his jaw. Grabs at his cheek, his hair, tangles in it, holds him in place.
But it’s not like he’s trying to move. Izuku kisses her back as best he can manage, and it’s only when she pulls away, heaving for another breath, a trail of spit trailing off her lower lip, that he realizes what they’ve done.
Between heavy gasps, she begs. “I… I love… I love you.”
Dizzying. “I love you too.” Intoxicating. “Ocha… Ochako, I love you.”
Premature. Drunken. Wrong.
Continue here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74966046/chapters/218031101