Iida's got the hang of kissing. It's fun, and he likes it a lot - the intimacy, the feeling that he is as close to Izuku as two people can be to one another. They kiss so much it starts to interfere with Iida's schoolwork; even when he knows he ought to go back to his own room and study for the impending test, he ends up lingering in Izuku's room, where they spend the evening chatting and kissing (mostly kissing).

The pleasure is physical, of course - Izuku smells and tastes good, and his lips are so soft - but it's more than that. Iida knows he would not get the same joy from kissing any of his other classmates, or a stranger. It's because it's Izuku that Iida loves it so much. He thinks, This is my best friend, my hero, the person I want to protect the most, the strongest person I know, and he's kissing me and enjoying it, and Iida's heart just about bursts with the surge of happiness that overtakes him. Sometimes he has to pull away for a second just to catch his breath - not because of the physical act of kissing, but because it's all so wonderful and overwhelming that he has to ground himself, has to remind himself it's real.

Izuku's hands roam sometimes. Sometimes they touch Iida's face, or the back of his neck, or run through the buzzed part of his hair. Sometimes they hold onto his shoulders, or press against his chest; this makes Iida feel large, because of the way it emphasizes the size difference between them. Iida knows it means nothing - Izuku is just as good a hero as Iida himself, and size has nothing to do with that - but it's still a nice feeling, being the large to Izuku's small, being able to hold him so securely in his arms.

One day Izuku's hands roam lower, touching Iida's sides and belly - it's almost ticklish, but not quite - and then lower still, just barely slipping beneath the waistband of Iida's sweatpants.

Iida freezes.

Izuku breaks out of the kiss, his eyes wide, questioning. "Tenya, is this…"

Iida can't move. He's hardly dared to think this far ahead. Of course he wants this, but he's been swallowing the desire down and not letting his thoughts stray in this direction because it's still hard for him to fathom that Izuku might actually want it too.

"We can stop if you want to," Izuku says quickly, jerking his hands away. "I'm sorry, I should have asked first!"

"I don't want to stop," Iida says. His face is hot, his heart's in his throat, and he can hardly speak the words - but he forces himself, because he knows communication of this sort is important. "I want to keep going. I just, I…" Izuku watches him patiently - waits without speaking as Iida fumbles stupidly for the words. "I want to make sure it's what you want, too, because it's very important to me that we don't do anything you don't want to do."

"Tenya, you're silly," Izuku says, his smile brilliant. Said by someone else it could be an insult, but now it's said with such affection that Iida feels instantly relieved. He hasn't ruined everything, then, if Izuku is still in a good mood. "Why wouldn't I want to do this? Aren't I the one initiating it in the first place?"

"Well, yes…" Iida makes to adjust his glasses but forgets he took them off a few minutes ago, and ends up poking himself on the bridge of his nose. "Yes, you are the one initiating, that is true! But I still do not want you initiating anything you feel uncomfortable with just because you believe it is what's expected in this situation."

"Tenya," Izuku says, and kisses him on the cheek. "You worry so much."

"So I've been told."

"I wouldn't touch you unless I really wanted to," Izuku says. "And I want to. Trust me."

"That's - that's the thing that's hard for me to grasp," Iida says, looking away. He knows that Izuku, of all people, is the least likely to judge him for this sort of thing, but that doesn't mean it's easy to say. "I don't understand why you want to."

"Have you thought about doing the same thing to me? Touching me, I mean?"

"Well - yes," Iida says, embarrassed, "I have, actually."

"Why do you think it isn't mutual? Aren't we boyfriends?"

"We are, of course."

"Then what's on your mind?"

How could Iida explain? You're you, the greatest person I know, my actual role model despite being my own age - brilliant, brave, handsome, strong - and I'm… myself.

Or: I've loved you for so long I don't know how to deal with this in reality, because I'm still not 100% convinced it's happening even though we've been together for weeks now.

Or: I want to make everything perfect for you at all times - I cannot bear the thought of you being unhappy and me being the cause of it - and sometimes it's such a heavy burden that it's actually paralyzing.

All of these things are true, but Iida cannot say a word. He can only pull Izuku closer to himself, bury his face in his shoulder, and inhale deeply. Izuku's scent is comforting. Iida could breathe it in forever.

Izuku pulls away from the embrace first, reaching one hand up to press it to Iida's cheek. "Are you alright? We can stop this if you want."

"I'm fine." Iida smiles, feeling weak just from those eyes. He hopes Izuku's gaze never stops affecting him this way. "I just got overwhelmed, I suppose."

"Can I keep kissing you?"

"Please."

They fall into a rhythm again, and it melts Iida's fears away. He knows he shouldn't doubt Izuku. He doesn't, at least not on a logical level; Iida knows no one with less guile. If Izuku didn't want to touch him or kiss him or be with him, Iida would know.

I thought it was unrequited for so long, Iida thinks. But it's not. It never was. He's kissing me back, touching me back. I've got to trust him.

Iida takes Izuku's hand and, slowly, gently, pulls it downwards, until it's resting at his waistband once more.

"Are you sure?" Izuku says, breathless.

"Yes."

Iida's lower stomach is unbelievably sensitive, he finds; he twitches involuntarily as Izuku's hand slips beneath his pants. They're no longer kissing, and Iida's aware that Izuku is staring at him - judging his reactions, no doubt, and ready to pull back if he expresses any kind of displeasure. But he can't bring himself to meet Izuku's eyes, so Iida looks downwards.

There's something breathtakingly erotic about it - to actually see Izuku's hand disappearing into his own pants, visible now only from the wrist up. Iida's breath catches in his throat as the hand slips lower, finally taking hold of his cock. His entire body is on fire, and he grips Izuku's hips for support.

"Is it okay?" Izuku asks.

"Yes," Iida says, and his voice is too harsh, too breathy and needy - it doesn't even sound like his own any more. "Yes, it's - it's good. You're good."

Izuku begins to move his hand, slow at first, shifting a little and speeding up once he's got the angle right. Iida doesn't understand why it feels so much better than his own hand. It's the same thing, isn't it? It's hardly different from masturbation, yet it feels worlds away. He's more sensitive now than he's ever been while touching himself.

Somewhere at the edge of his consciousness, the same old thoughts press in - This is Izuku's hand touching you, Izuku's eyes watching you - but the vividness of the sensation presses them back. It's impossible to think when there's so much to feel.

He knows he won't last long; it feels as if they've hardly begun when he feels the all-too-familiar coil of pleasure in his belly, the pressure that means his orgasm is imminent. Iida fights it a little, wondering if it would be embarrassing to come too soon - but then he looks up and sees Izuku's face: his lips are parted slightly, his cheeks are pink, his gaze is fixed firmly on Iida. He's aroused too, Iida realizes with a start. He's enjoying watching this - watching me.

It's that thought that sends him over the edge. Iida doesn't make much noise as he comes, just groans under his breath and tightens his grip on Izuku's body, feeling pleasure course through him in waves. After he's done he buries his face in Izuku's shoulder again, boneless with pleasure, and kisses the side of his neck.

"Was that good?" Izuku asks. Iida can hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes, oh God yes." He lifts his head. "Did - did you enjoy it too?"

"I did." Izuku presses a kiss to Iida's lips, playful and quick. "I really like watching you. You're - you're… It was really hot. Watching that."

"Oh," Iida says. So he'd judged Izuku's facial expression correctly - it wasn't entirely one-sided. The idea gives him confidence. "Then, can I…"

"Yes," Izuku says quickly. "Please."

Iida feels loose and relaxed, his apprehension almost entirely gone. He knows if he stops to think too hard it will come back - it's all still there, just beneath the surface - but for now, there are more pressing matters. Izuku's body is warm in his arms, and he's hard, Iida is pleased to see. It's somehow easier than Iida expected to slip his own hand beneath Izuku's pants and take him in hand - the angle's backwards, but other than that it's not dissimilar to masturbating. Iida does not let himself overthink it, just looks at Izuku's face, watches his eyes go glassy and half-lidded with pleasure. Izuku moans when he comes, and Iida can actually feel his entire body tense and relax. It's breathtakingly intimate; Iida's a little sad when it's over and Izuku is still.

Afterwards, they flop over on the bed, lying on their sides facing one another.

"Thank you," Iida says, and Izuku laughs.

"What are you thanking me for? I think we both enjoyed that."

"I - yes, I suppose we did."

Izuku smiles and presses their foreheads together. "Would you mind if I took a nap? I feel like I'm about to pass out."

"It's nearly dinnertime!"

"Is that a no?"

I'm weak, Iida thinks. I'm so weak to this person. I love him so much. "It's… it's not a no," he says. "I personally wouldn't suggest it, but-"

"Oh, good," Izuku says. "In that case, goodnight." And, without another word, he snuggles close to Iida, his eyes shut, his body perfectly relaxed. Iida holds him and smiles, listening to the steady sound of Izuku's breathing as he drifts off to sleep in his arms.

I just love him so much.