Izuku Midoriya hadn’t thought much about romance before his boyfriend. He’d always been too focused on becoming a hero, on getting stronger, on proving himself. But somehow, somewhere between school training, homework, and trying not to die during internships, he had fallen for him—the boy who laughed at his muttering instead of being annoyed, who stayed with him after late-night patrols, who saw all of him and didn’t flinch.

It had started as a crush, the kind that made Izuku nervous and giddy and clumsy in the worst way. But his boyfriend—his boyfriend, it still felt strange and warm to think that—had seen right through him. There was no dramatic confession, just a quiet truth passed between them on a rooftop under a gray sky, when Izuku had finally admitted it. That he liked him. That he had for a while.

He hadn’t expected it to be returned.

Their first date had been awkward in the best way—fingers brushing in popcorn bags at a movie neither of them remembered, shy glances that lasted just a second too long. The first time their hands intertwined, Izuku had thought his heart would break free from his chest. He'd replayed the moment again and again, dizzy with happiness.

And now, months later, they’d grown more comfortable. There were longer kisses, slower and filled with a different kind of quiet. Hands that had once hesitated now roamed more freely—fingers brushing over cheekbones, down backs, lingering at waists. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t even bold, not really. It was just them, two teenage boys trying to figure it all out.

Today, they sat together beneath a tree in the courtyard during their break. The courtyard had long emptied, but Izuku and his boyfriend stayed, hidden behind the thick branches of the old tree where no teachers or classmates would bother them.

Izuku felt the weight of him—his boyfriend curled slightly into his side, warm and real and everything Izuku had never imagined he could have. They kissed again, and this time it lingered.

Not a chaste brush. Not a peck.

It was the kind of kiss that started slow but deepened gradually, like both of them were trying to memorize the feel of the other’s mouth. Izuku’s hand moved on its own, unsure but yearning—first to his boyfriend’s jaw, then threading up into his hair. His heart beat faster the closer they got.

His boyfriend responded with quiet confidence, fingers drifting from Izuku’s waist to his lower back, then pausing—asking without words. Izuku tensed, just for a second. Not in fear. In awe. In anticipation.

Then he nodded, barely.

They kept kissing, more open now, breaths shared in the space between touches. His boyfriend’s hand settled on the small of his back, firm and warm, while Izuku’s fingers touched the nape of his boyfriend’s neck.

This was new.

All of it.

The feeling of being wanted, being allowed to want back—it lit a fire low in his chest, spreading in waves.

He broke the kiss first, lips pink, breath catching as he stared into the eyes of the boy he loved. “I… um…” His voice was barely there. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”