Izuku Midoriya had never been in a relationship before, and if he were being completely honest, he never expected his first boyfriend to be him.

Loud, brash, and grumpy were all words that perfectly described his boyfriend—someone who never sugarcoated his thoughts and had no patience for anything he considered a waste of time. He wasn’t the type to hold hands in public, whisper sweet nothings, or do anything remotely typical of a boyfriend. But, lately, Izuku had started noticing… changes.

Tiny, minuscule changes.

Like today, for example.

"You're gonna forget your water bottle again, dumbass," his boyfriend grumbled, shoving the green bottle into Izuku’s hands without looking at him. His tone was as gruff as ever, but Izuku saw the way his ears burned red.

Izuku blinked. "O-Oh! Thanks! I didn’t even—"

"Yeah, yeah, just don’t start mumbling about it."

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t normal romance. But Izuku felt warmth bloom in his chest anyway.

Or yesterday, when they were walking back to the dorms, and his boyfriend had—so casually, so quickly that Izuku almost thought he imagined it—reached out and grabbed the back of his hoodie when a bike zipped past them too fast.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass," he muttered afterward, shoving his hands back into his pockets like it had never happened.

And the day before that, when Izuku had been studying late and nearly nodded off at his desk, only to wake up with a blanket draped over his shoulders.

It wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t easy. But Izuku knew what effort looked like. And this—these little things—were his boyfriend’s version of trying.

Izuku smiled to himself, holding the water bottle a little tighter. He didn’t need flowers or love letters. He just needed this.

And, maybe, if he was lucky, one day his boyfriend would realize he didn’t have to try so hard to hide it.