The transformation had been gradual, then all at once. The hollows in Izuku’s cheeks had filled out, the sharp lines of his collarbones now softened by a healthy layer of muscle. He was broader, more solid, and the smile that had been so rare for months was now a near-constant presence, bright and genuine. He ate with a gusto that made Katsuki’s own heart feel full, devouring meals with the same intensity he once reserved for hero analysis.

The heat was beginning to creep in, a heavy, humid blanket promising a sweltering summer. They were lounging in the common room, Katsuki sucking down a Ramune to combat the stuffiness, when the dorm door swung open.

Katsuki choked.

The carbonated drink went down the wrong pipe, sending him into a coughing fit that had Sero slapping him hard on the back. But Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away from the doorway.

Izuku stood there, a shy, tentative smile on his face. The wild, fluffy cloud of green curls was gone. In its place was a stunningly sharp, modern mullet. The sides and back were trimmed short and neat, accentuating the strong line of his jaw, while the top was left longer, styled with a bit of product to sweep back from his forehead in soft, textured layers. It was a style ripped straight from a high-fashion magazine, and it framed his freckled face, his bright eyes, and that renewed, confident smile in a way that was utterly devastating.

“Holy shit, Midoriya!” Mina shrieked, breaking the stunned silence. “You look hot!”

“Yeah, man! That’s so manly!” Kirishima added, finally ceasing his assault on Katsuki’s back.

Izuku rubbed the back of his newly shorn neck, a faint blush on his cheeks. “You think? It’s a lot cooler for the heat. The hairdresser said it would be practical…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes found Katsuki’s, who was still trying to remember how to breathe. The heat that had been creeping up from the weather was nothing compared to the sudden, violent flush that warmed Katsuki’s entire body. Practical. Right. It was the most impractical fucking thing Katsuki had ever seen because all he could think about was fisting his hands in those longer strands at the back and pulling.

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked, his smile faltering slightly. “Is it… bad?”

Bad? It was a crime. It should be illegal to look that good after a fucking haircut.

Katsuki finally managed to swallow, setting his Ramune down with a clatter. He stood up, ignoring the knowing grins from their friends, and walked over to Izuku. He circled him once, a low, appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

He stopped in front of him, his gaze intense. He reached out, not touching his hair, but gently tracing the newly exposed line of his jaw, his thumb brushing over the shell of his ear. Izuku shivered under the touch.

“It’s not bad,” Katsuki said, his voice a low, possessive growl meant only for Izuku. “It’s a fucking problem. Now everyone’s gonna be looking at you.”

Izuku’s blush deepened, but his smile returned, wider and more confident now. “Only you, Kacchan,” he murmured. “Just you.”

Katsuki’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Damn right.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Wait until I get you alone. I’m gonna ruin all that perfect styling.”

The promise in his tone made Izuku’s breath catch. As Katsuki pulled back, he finally allowed himself to run his fingers through the soft green layers on top, a silent claim. The summer heat was coming, but the temperature between them was already soaring.