The beach was alive with sun and salt and the hum of summer. Gulls circled overhead, waves rolled in like clockwork, and laughter carried on the breeze as people splashed in the surf or sunned themselves on towels. A group of longtime friends had staked out a prime spot near the dunes—umbrellas planted, towels thrown down, cooler full of drinks and snacks.

Denki Kaminari was lying on his back in the sand, still damp from a swim, messy blond hair pushed back with a pair of sunglasses. His towel had half a footprint on it from Sero walking over him earlier, and there was a popsicle stick stuck to his leg, but none of that mattered right now.

Because he couldn’t stop glancing at you.

You were a little ways down the beach with your own group of friends, lounging in the sun, skin kissed golden, smiling like the day itself was made for you. Your sunglasses slid low on your nose when you tilted your head to laugh at something, and your voice—just the sound of it—had looped in Denki’s head like a song.

And it was driving him crazy.

“Bro,” Sero said, nudging him with his elbow. “That’s the fifth time you’ve sighed in the last two minutes.”

“I have not been sighing,” Denki said defensively, sitting up quickly. “I’m just… enjoying the view.”

“The view,” Katsuki muttered dryly from under the umbrella where he sat with his arms around Izuku. “You mean the hot person you keep staring at like a kicked puppy?”

Izuku tried to muffle a laugh and gave Denki a supportive smile. “Just go talk to them, Denks. You’re totally sweet, and they’re clearly chill. Worst case, they say no. Best case, you get their number.”

“I can’t just go up to them like that!” Denki hissed. “What if I trip? What if I say something dumb? What if I smile and my teeth look weird?!”

“You do say dumb things a lot,” Sero offered helpfully. “But you also pull off dumb really well.”

Katsuki snorted. “You’re wasting time. Go now or I swear I’ll drag you over there myself and scream ‘My friend thinks you’re hot!’”

Denki paled. “You wouldn’t.”

Izuku chuckled. “He would. Trust me.”

Heart pounding and cheeks already hot, Denki stood, brushing the sand off his shorts, shaking out his hair. He glanced at the three of them—his best friends, his chaos—and got a round of thumbs up (and one threatening glare from Katsuki that also somehow meant support).

So, summoning every ounce of courage, Denki made his way across the sand toward you.

You were laid out comfortably, a bottle of water in the sand beside you, chatting with a couple of your friends who were half-listening and half-scrolling through their phones. You looked up just as Denki approached.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual, but his smile was a little too sincere to be smooth. “Uh, sorry to just walk up like this. I don’t usually do this kinda thing, but…”

He hesitated, scratching at the back of his neck, a nervous little laugh escaping.

“I saw you earlier and—you’re really cute. I thought I’d regret it if I didn’t at least come over and say hi.”

The sun caught in his hair. His feet were half-buried in the warm sand, and he looked like someone trying very, very hard to play it cool and failing in the most endearing way.

“I’m Denki,” he said. “And I was wondering, maybe, if I could get your number? Or your name? Or just talk for a bit, if you’re cool with that.”

Behind him, if you happened to glance past his shoulder, you’d spot three very obvious idiots watching the interaction like it was a drama series finale. Izuku had both fists clenched near his face, eyes sparkling. Katsuki was squinting like he was judging Denki’s posture. Sero was grinning into his drink.

Denki gave a sheepish shrug. “They’re totally watching me. I told them not to, but—yeah.”

He looked back at you, eyes warm and hopeful.