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His first date had been Ochako. They went to get ice cream, after a horror movie about space. They both liked strawberry so they shared the cone. They also shared their first kiss, on the bench of a park. They had been dating for a month, and Izuku realized that Ochako smelt like strawberries too. Her lips were soft, her palms were softer. He loved the way "this is my boyfriend”, sounded in her lips when they presented each other. He loved the way “this is my girlfriend” rolled off the tip of his tongue, when someone asked. He loved her. And she did too.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, as she looked through the window of the dorm. It was raining outside, everyone else was in the common room. Except both of them. They were in Ochako’s room. All pink and bubbly and completely Ochako. “I can’t keep lying to myself.”
“You don’t like me,” Izuku said, staring down to his feet. Ochako turned around and offering an apologetic smile, which only made the sting in his chest deepened.
“It’s not that I don’t like you,” she said, but it still hurt. “I…don’t think I like boys at all…”
Ochako needed a friend at that moment. He didn’t need a boyfriend- she didn’t /want/ a boyfriend. She wanted a friend. She needed a friend.
But it hurt.
Ever since that day he can’t eat strawberries, and can’t see space movies.
Once Kirishima brought strawberry lollipops for everyone in the class. He felt so bad to turn him down so he eat it.
The taste felt too real. The sensation burnt in his tongue. The memory of Uraraka’s lips overflowed him, and he longed for the soft touch against his own lips. Before he knew it he was crying. Iida was the one to wipe away his tears with a handkerchief that he had brought.
His second date was with Iida. It didn’t really feel like a date. At least not at first. It was more like two guys hanging out. They went to the park and then to the library. They talked for hours about the heroes and their powers and their plans for the future. Their palms were sweaty when they held both of them under the table, and their beating hearts could be heard all over the library. It ende with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to hang out again.
Iida lips were chapped and dry, and they didn’t taste at all. They were simply Iida, and simple as that Izuku was happy. They kissed on the Ferris wheel in the park. They were hanging out with Tsuyu and Ochako. A double date of sorts. When they came out of the Ferris wheel they were both red faced and unable to face each other.
Ochako laughed at him, and teased him all the way back to the dorms. Iida didn’t dare to look at him, but still held his hand, and didn’t let go until they reached their destination.
But Iida didn’t like strawberries, and didn’t like space movies. He also didn’t like biking and preferred running over weights. And Izuku didn’t like blueberries, or Iida’s favorite book. They were silly little things, which shouldn’t have matter in the great scheme of things. But they did anyway. And it ended silently.
One day they realized maybe this wasn’t going to work out. Maybe things weren’t supposed to go this way.
Ochako had cried that day too. Tsuyu had broken up with her.
His third date was surreal. Kaachan had asked him out, and he had said yes. Why? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it had to do with the way Kaachan had screamed the question, or how he was playing with the chord of his sweater, waiting for an answer. Izuku wasn’t sure why, but he had said yes.
They went to museum. They both liked to talk about history. They remembered a lot of things, as they passed through the kid’s area. They recalled playing there when they were younger. Tag, and hide and seek. Those had been simpler times. They stopped by the ice cream parlor, and Kaachan remembered his favorite flavor.
It was the first time he ate a strawberry and his stomach didn’t feel like throwing up.
Bakugou didn’t ask for his own cone, and instead chose to steal from his own. They kissed on their first date, and it tasted like strawberry.
Suddenly, Izuku liked strawberries again.
It didn’t last.
Ochako had a new girlfriend by the next week. Mina Ashido, who also liked strawberries and would buy roses every Thursday, no matter the weather.
Kaachan wasn’t as attentive, he noticed. In fact, if it weren’t for the chase kisses they shared, one wouldn’t even know they were dating at all.
Kaachan was nice, and smelt like burnt honey. He liked to watch movies, and to go to sleep before ten. He liked to see action films and a cup of black coffee in the morning. He also liked Kirishima, but didn’t know that yet. Izuku did. He pretended not to notice for as long as he could. He pretended the sweet messages were for him, and those stay up late nights were just for the two of them. But it all ended, as everything must.
The day Kaachan came in his room, head down and guilty look all over his face, Izuku broke up with him. Told him his feelings had changed, and that it was fun while it lasted. He also received a hook to the face, and a bloody nose. He recalled the words ‘stop joking around’, and ‘be angry’. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He didn’t hear Katsuki say ‘I’m sorry’, but it was a message left hanging in the air.
By the time he heard Todoroki ask him out, he wasn’t sure what to say.
In the middle of the battle field, after a villain had almost killed him. Todoroki had hugged him, and confessed right there. Izuku couldn’t answer. He remembered the taste of strawberry, the smelt of the burn honey and the feel of chapped lips. Tears streamed down his face, and he hiccuped to try and forget.
He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to love. He didn’t want to feel.
Todoroki hadn’t pushed him. He had waited and waited. He waited until Izuku had answer, and waited when the answer was ‘we could try’. He had waited for Izuku to set a time, and a day for their own date.
Todoroki hadn’t chosen it, but Izuku did.
They ate take out inside of the dorms, and Izuku felt guilty for not going out. Todoroki didn’t care, it was fine as long as they were together.
Izuku felt bad for making him wait, but Todoroki said he wasn’t waiting. The pace was just perfect, it didn’t matter if it took them days, or months, or weeks. It would still be perfect, since love doesn’t sprout from a minute.
They held hands in their bedroom and it was okay.