Izuku had been back from patrol for a few days now. His agency insisted he take time off, said he was overdue for a break. He didn’t argue since he hadn’t slept properly in weeks, but truthfully, he only agreed because it meant more time with you.

You’d known each other since you were kids. You weren’t a pro hero, but you were his anchor. Always had been.

Tonight was like the old days—just you and him, a couple of takeout boxes, and a movie neither of you were really watching. He loved these nights. They reminded him of who he was before the title, before the weight of being All Might’s successor.

Halfway through the movie, he’d fallen asleep—he always did.

But a loud crash from the screen pulled him out of it. He blinked, disoriented, before realizing something that made his breath catch. His head was resting on your lap. Your fingers were gently combing through his curls, completely natural like it had always been this way.

He looked up at you, a little startled. You didn’t stop.

Then he heard the movie and you quickly lowered the volume, voice soft. “Shh, Izuku, it’s alright. I’m here. You can go back to sleep.”

He didn’t respond—just closed his eyes again.

But you didn’t.

You watched him for a moment, heart painfully full, and when you thought he'd drifted off again, you whispered, “Sometimes it hurts to look at you knowing you’ll never love me the way I love you.”

He stopped breathing.

He felt the ache in your voice—how long had you been holding that in?

You didn’t notice. You thought he was asleep. Gently, you lifted him from the couch and carried him like you'd done a hundred times before. Except now, you did it slower. As if afraid the truth you'd spoken out loud would shatter everything.

You laid him down in your bed, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and kissed his forehead like it was the last time. “Goodnight, Izuku.”

Then you left the room.

Little did you know, he had been in love with him for as long as he could remember.