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It’s hot.
Iida wishes—just for a moment—that he had dressed a little more informal for their…outing. He picks at the front of his button-up and fans himself with it, sweat soaking through to his undershirt. Admittedly, he’s not looking his most graceful. Or put together. Last time he passed by a storefront window, he’d noticed his hair starting to stand on end and fall out of place. That was unacceptable under normal circumstances, but especially when he was out with…friends.
He’s been hesitating around that word a lot lately.
Midoriya and Todoroki seem to be faring much better. They’re both wearing tanks, Midoriya’s dipping low under his arms in what was definitely an unacceptable amount of skin to show, even if it was taut and tanned and Iida’s eyes lingered on the shape of a rib. Todoroki's tank is normally cut, at least, but it’s black and stands out in stark contrast to his pale skin and bicolor hair, drawing attention to the shape of his body and how he’s all hard lines and angles from the slope of his collarbone to the cut of his jaw.
Then there’s the sweat beading over biceps and the way their soaked shirts clung to their bodies and didn’t do a thing to hide how absolutely fit his—friends—were, and really, honestly, Iida was having trouble looking at them at all.
“Oh,” Midoriya says, fingers snagging at the hem of Todoroki's shirt. “Ice cream.”
Todoroki responds to the lightest of pressure, turning to look at Midoriya. “You want some?”
Midoriya meets his eyes. Nods. The exchange is over in an instant, but it’s apparent how they bend toward each other, flowers basking in each other’s light.
Midoriya turns to Iida, smiling so that Iida can see his (perfect, straight) teeth and asks, “Do you want some, too, Tenya?”
Alarmed, Iida finds he can’t meet Midoriya’s eyes. “A water bottle should suffice, I think,” he says, looking over Midoriya’s shoulder, but Todoroki is there, tilting his head to the side just a little, his bangs sliding over his eyes. Iida has an image in his head, a hand—his—brushing back that strand of hair and he can’t look at Todoroki either.
“Aw, alright,” Midoriya says.
“I’ll buy,” Todoroki says.
Midoriya puffs up his cheeks. “You always pay for us!”
Us, Iida thinks.
“Yes, but I’m spending my father’s money,” Todoroki says. “So who cares?”
“I, also, would like—!” Iida interrupts.
Midoriya sticks his tongue out at Todoroki, but his eyes are on Iida when he says, “Guess you’ll have to beat me to it!” and takes off. Caught off guard, Iida is a heartbeat behind Todoroki, who swears and races after Midoriya. Iida should be able to beat both of them in an instant, but his mind is stuck on a pink tongue and he finds he can’t move at all.
“You cheated,” Midoriya protests when Todoroki returns from the vender, victorious. He wears his pride with his head held high and a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.
“You didn’t say no Quirks,” Todoroki points out.
Midoriya, who hadn’t said no Quirks and as such, had been blocked by a wall of ice, pouts again. He opens his mouth to retort, but makes a pleased sound instead when Todoroki hands him his popsicle. He gives Iida his water bottle, wet with condensation, and their fingers brush. Iida can feel the cold lingering from Todoroki's Quirk and he shivers. Midoriya throws himself down on the edge of a stone planter and Iida sits down next to him, efficiently.
“I wish winter would come sooner,” Todoroki says. Iida and Midoriya turn to him. It’s unusual for Todoroki to start conversation. He usually follows their lead. Todoroki catches their gazes and fiddles with the wrapper of his own popsicle. “I like the snow,” he admits.
Midoriya grins. “Me too!” he exclaims. “I love warm clothes and the lights and the smell of winter.”
“More clothes is a plus for sure,” Iida agrees, a little weakly. He takes a sip of water.
Midoriya peels open the wrapper of his ice cream. His popsicle is bright orange and crusted with ice from the freezer. Midoriya laps at it a few times before wrapping his mouth around it. Iida distinctly hears himself think the words, oh no.
“My mom makes me hot chocolate in a thermos to take to school,” Midoriya says after a moment of sucking on his ice cream. “It’s what wakes me up on cold mornings.”
“We’ll be living in the dorms this year, though,” Todoroki points out.
“Ah, you’re right!” Midoriya says. “That’s a shame.”
“If it is really of such benefit to you,” Iida finds himself saying, “I could make you some in the mornings.”
Todoroki and Midoriya stare at him, both with popsicles in their mouths.
Iida clears his throat. “I wake up earlier than either of you and I make coffee every morning, anyway. It’s not like it’s a hassle. Anything to keep your attention on class and your grades up.” He takes another gulp of water.
Midoriya grins. “That’s true. I’m not the one you need to worry about, though.” He sneaks a look at Todoroki.
“What?” Todoroki says around his popsicle.
Midoriya’s grin widens. “You sleep like the dead. Which one of us is going to have to come drag you out of bed every morning?”
“You were irascible in the morning when we were at the training camp,” Iida adds.
Todoroki narrows his eyes and pulls the popsicle out of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll just have to drag you into bed with me,” he mutters, taking a bite off the end.
Iida is glad that Midoriya turns as red as he feels at the suggestion. Midoriya shakes himself out of it, straightening his shoulders and tilting his head to the side a little, mimicking Todoroki's pose earlier perfectly. “Is that a challenge?” he says softly.
“Or, I could make both of you hot chocolate and no one has to challenge anyone to anything,” Iida says quickly, feeling the need to chug the rest of his water bottle. He resists.
“What would we do without you?” Midoriya says, laughing. His hand rests right next to Iida’s thigh. He’s close enough that Iida can feel his body heat radiating from him. Midoriya always did have such a high metabolism. Both he and Todoroki had ravenous appetites; their diets would be a pain to watch. But someone had to make sure they didn’t subsist entirely off ice cream and curry bread, and if Iida wasn’t the man for the job, then who was? Honestly, with these two—
Midoriya leans his head against Iida’s shoulder and Iida stops thinking. He can only register the soft, tickling sensation of Midoriya’s curls against his neck and the warm weight of his head against him. Iida shifts without thinking, accompanying Midoriya to the best of his ability. Midoriya makes a small, pleased noise. Iida can’t resist downing his water bottle this time.
“I don’t think I’ve had hot chocolate made for me,” Todoroki says thoughtfully. He’s still talking around his popsicle, the blue syrup turning his lips slick and purple.
“What? Oh.” Iida blinks rapidly. “Well, I assure you, I am quite proficient.”
“I wonder who the best cook between us is?” Midoriya muses.
“Not you,” Todoroki says.
“Hey!” Midoriya protests, shifting against Iida. “I help my mom cook!” Iida can feel the way his body quivers when he laughs.
“It would be Todoroki-kun, wouldn’t it?” Iida says. “I have been taught to cook, but I haven’t practiced as much as I should have.”
“Just Shouto is fine,” Todoroki says.
Iida’s heart thumps. It’s so loud, he’s afraid Midoriya will be able to hear it beat in his neck. “I…” he starts. “That is…I…”
“It’s okay,” Midoriya says. “It’s a big jump. It’s okay if you still want to use our family names.”
Todoroki nods.
After a moment, Iida bows his head. The resulting silence is awkward.
“You should have a cook-off—ah!” Midoriya says, then sits up, clapping his hands together. “That should be our next challenge!”
“Challenge?” Iida asks.
“You know, like the room competition thingy?” Midoriya says. “We should do that, but cooking! Although you two will probably lose to Satou…”
“I like cooking,” Todoroki says, which is his way of saying, ‘I’m in.’
“If it’s a bento, I won’t lose,” Iida says, puffing up his chest.
Midoriya grins helplessly at Iida and bumps his shoulder with his forehead. Iida flushes again. When he looks up, Todoroki is watching him, chewing off the last bit of his ice cream. His eyebrows are quirked. Iida freezes, a man caught in the act of…he doesn’t know what.
Todoroki's eyes flick to Midoriya. “Izuku,” he says. “Let me try some of your ice cream.”
“No way!” Midoriya protests, shoving the ice cream in his mouth. “You’re a bottomless pit!”
(It comes out as “’Ou’re a ‘ottom’ess hit!”)
Todoroki takes a step towards him and Midoriya squeaks, scooting backwards, but there’s nowhere for him to go unless he wants a butt full of mulch. Todoroki wraps his mouth around the width of the popsicle sticking out of Midoriya’s mouth, tilting his head to get a better angle. Iida can only watch.
Todoroki gets closer, closer to Midoriya until his lips brush against Midoriya’s. Iida sees the shiver that wracks Midoriya’s body at the contact. Todoroki digs his teeth in to rip out a chunk and then laps at the popsicle, his tongue brushing Midoriya’s lips, again. Midoriya’s blush darkens his cheeks, but his eyes are half-lidded.
It’s just a moment, but Todoroki's eyes flicker back to Iida, catching him watching them like a voyeur watching two lovers. Todoroki does a split-second evaluation of what he finds, then leans back, chewing on the popsicle chunk.
“Sh-Shouto…” Midoriya says in a tiny voice.
“T-T-Todoroki-kun!” Iida exclaims, just as shocked. “Was that really appropriate?”
“Don’t like orange,” Todoroki decides after a moment.
“Then why’d you take a bite out of it?” Midoriya cries.
“Wanted to try something,” Todoroki says, but he’s looking at Iida.
-------------------------------
They go to Iida’s house after their…outing. He has the biggest TV and Endeavor isn’t around to kill the mood.
(“Why do you keep calling it an ‘outing’?” Midoriya laughs when Iida accidentally says the word aloud. “It’s a date, isn’t it?”
But calling it a ‘date’ is like calling Todoroki-kun ‘Shouto’ or Midoriya-kun ‘Izuku’—impossible.)
They order take out and eat straight out of the boxes with the shitty wooden chopsticks the takeout restaurant provides. Todoroki's break at an awkward angle and Midoriya laughs at him. Iida offers to get him a newer, nicer pair but Todoroki sticks it out, stubbornly.
Iida isn’t used to this: sitting on the carpet of his room, takeout boxes scattered around them and bits of rice fallen to the ground, forgotten. He isn’t used to watching cartoons while Midoriya wiggles in between him and Todoroki, poking at Todoroki's leg with a socked foot until Todoroki hooks his ankle around Midoriya’s and Midoriya tuck a hand around Iida’s bicep (it only makes him jump a little).
Iida thinks he could, though. Get used to this.
The anime they watch is simple in terms of plot and humor, but it makes Midoriya laugh that bright little laugh of his and makes Iida smile. Even Todoroki leans into Midoriya, pressing his nose into his hair. Iida understands the temptation. Midoriya is just the right size to fit between them, the perfect, tiny puzzle piece to pull them all together. Iida thinks that if the night gets any darker, he might be brave enough to lean against Midoriya, too.
They’re three episodes in by the time Iida realizes Midoriya has slipped his hand into Todoroki's. The sight makes his heart skip a beat. Their fingers are locked together, scarred and dark skin against unblemished pale skin. Todoroki's hands are bigger than Midoriya’s, and yet they slide together seamlessly. Iida wonders if maybe, his, too—
As if reading his mind, Midoriya’s hand slides down Iida’s arm. He’s slow as he moves, predicting Iida’s immediate tension when he moves. Midoriya runs fingers down the inside of Iida’s forearm until they brush his palm and then very deliberately, he presses his hand into Iida’s.
Iida can’t breathe, but he slips his fingers between Midoriya’s. Midoriya sighs, content, and leans against Iida again. Todoroki shifts himself around to get comfortable again.
Iida isn’t sure what Midoriya is so satisfied about. Iida knows his hand is sweating and clammy, probably trembling a little from the intimacy, but Midoriya presses their palms flush, fingers locked firm but not tight—Iida could escape if he needs to, but Midoriya doesn’t want him to.
It takes a few minutes, but Iida relaxes. The tension leaves his shoulders. He sinks back against his bed, takes in the feeling of Midoriya’s breath puffing over his collarbone. Basks in the warmth of his two—friends—as they all huddle together.
He starts rubbing circles onto the back of Midoriya’s hand, although he doesn’t realize it immediately. When he does, the movement stutters and he accidentally gives Midoriya’s hand a little squeeze. Iida catches Midoriya smiling and he squeezes Iida’s hand back.
“Hungry,” Todoroki rumbles.
Midoriya laughs soundlessly. “There’s ice cream in the freezer, silly.”
“More ice cream?” Iida says. “I don’t think—”
Midoriya takes his hand from Todoroki and puts it over Iida’s mouth. Iida goes still. “Let him have this,” Midoriya says. “He’ll whine all night.”
Todoroki takes that as permission to get up and walk downstairs to fetch the ice cream that Iida (grudgingly) kept in the freezer for when Todoroki and Midoriya came over. Midoriya’s eyes don’t leave Iida’s. His hand is still over Iida’s mouth. Iida tires to say something under the hand.
“Shh,” Midoriya shushes him. His eyes shine.
“It’s okay,” he says, as if calming a wild animal. “Don’t overthink this.”
Don’t overthink what? Iida thinks.
Midoriya leans forward on his knees, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the back of his hand, right over where Iida’s mouth would be.
“That,” Midoriya says as if reading Iida’s mind, drawing his hand away and sitting back on his heels.
Oh. Oh.
Iida’s mind swims. He’d felt the brush of Midoriya’s bangs against his forehead and the rush of an exhale through his nose when he leaned in. The only thing he had missed was the feeling of Midoriya’s mouth. Midoriya’s mouth on his.
Don’t overthink this.
Don’t overthink what? The tingling in their still-connected palms? The ghosting feel of Midoriya hand on his lips? The urge to lean forward and complete that action—what it should have been—
Todoroki returns, ice cream carton open and a spoon in his mouth already. He raises his eyebrows. “Did I miss something?”
“Nothing yet,” Midoriya says. He releases Iida’s hand to make grabby hands at the ice cream and spoon. Iida only resists a little bit.
While Todoroki and Midoriya eat their ice cream, Iida thinks about mouths.
He thinks about Midoriya’s mouth, pink and plush, a fatter lower lip like a pillow that would feel so soft against his own mouth. He thinks about the way Midoriya’s mouth stretches when he smiles, how he looks when he’s biting his lip in concentration, and the slip of a tongue over his lips before he speaks sometimes. Iida thinks about how Midoriya eats ice cream, licking the cream flat and flipping the spoon upside down before sticking it in his mouth, swiping off the ice cream with the whole spoon in his mouth. He thinks about Midoriya’s mouth wrapped around a popsicle.
He thinks about Todoroki's mouth, harsher, more defined. Redder. Iida thinks about how Todoroki slacks on his shaving sometimes, and how his stubble would scrape against Iida’s chin when they kissed, his lips a soft reprieve. He thinks of Todoroki unafraid to get close, unafraid to take control of the kiss and make Iida give in to him. He thinks of the flash of teeth when Todoroki talks and what those teeth would feel like on him.
Iida thinks of Midoriya’s mouth and Todoroki's mouths and how they are different. But oh, how he wants both of them on him.
Iida does not think to watch Todoroki watching him, does not consider that Todoroki is an observer and an analyzer, and that he while he can be dense at times, there are many things he knows without needing to be told.
“Izuku, kiss me,” Todoroki says.
Midoriya’s eyes widen. He still has the spoon in his mouth. Iida’s breath catches.
Todoroki does not back down. He pulls the spoon from Midoriya’s mouth and places it on the ground. Then, tilting Midoriya’s chin up, he guides Midoriya’s lips to his own. Midoriya’s eyelids flutter closed and he acquiesces to the kiss, letting Todoroki's hand slide down his chin to bury in his curls and pull his face closer to him. Midoriya’s hand paws at Todoroki's cheek, caressing him.
Iida can’t look. Iida can’t look away.
Todoroki tilts his head, and Midoriya makes a noise and then there’s an exchange of tongues and—and Iida can’t bear to watch anymore—
Todoroki's eyes fall to Iida. He pulls away from Midoriya, a line of saliva connecting their very red lips. Midoriya falls back, still looking sated and well-kissed, not understanding what was going on. But Iida understands.
He looks at their spit-shined lips. He tries to think revolting. He tries to think unsanitary. He can only think, I need that.
“Tenya,” Todoroki says. “If you want us, you can tell us.”
Midoriya’s looking at Iida now, eyes widening with understanding. Or maybe he always knew, and is now just connecting the dots. “Tenya,” he says softly, “you want to kiss us?”
“I,” Iida says, and completely forgets how to speak.
“You were scared,” Midoriya says. “No…nervous? Both?”
“Inexperienced?” Todoroki guesses.
Iida ducks his head. “I can’t,” he says. “I can’t ask—”
“It’s embarrassing, isn’t it?”
Iida looks up. Midoriya smiles, a lovely red tint to his cheeks. “It’s really embarrassing to think about, to talk about,” he says. “I understand. It’s okay, because Shouto is straightforward; I never had to ask. I would have been scared to. Shouto’s kind of a brute though; he takes what he wants.”
“Oi,” Todoroki says.
“You didn’t know how to ask us,” Midoriya says warmly. “I’m sorry, I should have noticed earlier. But you know…we like you, Tenya. We like you a lot.”
“I think,” Iida says in a very small voice. “I think I would like to try.”
“Izuku,” Todoroki says, “get in his lap.”
Iida’s eyes widen. He doesn’t move but remains frozen as Midoriya shifts to his knees, scoots to Iida’s side, and swings a leg over Iida’s legs. Midoriya hovers above him, lighting hands on his shoulders, and he lowers himself, warm and alive, into Iida’s lap.
“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” Midoriya says.
“Okay,” Iida rasps.
Midoriya moves slow. When his lips touch Iida’s, Iida almost jumps, but Midoriya doesn’t press closer. He lets their lips brush, just barely, not quite in a kiss. He waits, patiently, until Iida leans forward, just a little, to press his mouth fully against Iida’s, sealing the kiss.
Everything about Midoriya is soft and delicate and as unbreakable as steel in Iida’s arms and lap. Midoriya’s mouth presses against Iida’s in every way he can imagine, as if Midoriya were trying to memorize the shape and feel of his lips. His hands slide up Iida’s neck, his thumb resting against Iida’s thumping pulse and his other hand threading through the soft hair at the base of Iida’s neck and up into longer hair. His nails scratch pleasantly at Iida’s scalp and he wants to lean further into the scratching—further into the kiss.
He can’t make up his mind and so his hands come up to clutch at Midoriya’s back. His hands slide up Midoriya’s shoulder blades, feeling the shape of his muscles and bone, counting his vertebrae. Midoriya lets out a shuddering breath that Iida kisses away from him. Midoriya arches his back and presses against Iida’s chest, their hearts beating in tandem.
And then there are new hands on Iida, pulling him away from Midoriya. Iida doesn’t want to part from Midoriya, nor Midoriya from him, and so they fall back, together, against Todoroki's chest. Todoroki's hands are rougher than Midoriya’s, firmer. They run down Iida’s sides and make him shiver. Then there’s a breath on his neck and two mouths are on him at once.
Midoriya kisses aggressively this time. He tilts his head to the side and kisses with tongue. Iida hesitates, thoughts of sanitation and germs running through his mind for a moment before his brain registers how good tongue against tongue feels and he doesn’t think about anything else but how to get more of that feeling. Midoriya laughs into the kiss and throws his teeth into play, teasing Iida and teaching him what to do to make each other feel good.
Todoroki is a different sensation. Todoroki is not the soft of lips but the sharp of teeth and the soothing wetness of tongue. He mouths at the back of Iida’s neck, dragging teeth across Iida’s skin until he gets goosebumps. Then he moves to his neck and sucks. Iida gasps aloud, Midoriya swallowing the sound with a kiss, but it feels good. It hurts like an ache under Iida’s skin, something he needed soothed but never knew how to. Todoroki worries the patch of skin with his teeth and laps at it like a dog before moving to a different spot.
Iida tells Todoroki what to do with the tiny movements of his body. If Todoroki bites too hard, it’s a little flinch and Todoroki soothes the sore area with his tongue. If it’s not hard enough, Iida presses back against him, and if it’s just right, Iida presses back hard against him. Todoroki's hands have found their home placed possessively over Iida’s hips, holding Iida against him, so tight he might leave bruising.
Iida doesn’t care.
Iida doesn’t know hesitation anymore. He doesn’t know self-control. All he knows is letting go, is giving himself up to his partners, is giving in to what his body wants.
And his body wants them.
Iida breaks from Midoriya so he can throw his head back against Todoroki. Todoroki is ready for him and kisses Iida, taking over while Midoriya nips at Iida’s collarbone and sucks at his Adam’s apple. Todoroki knows what he wants and takes it; overpowering Iida and taking control of his mouth. Todoroki drags his teeth over Iida’s tongue when they break apart, leaving Iida’s tongue hanging from his mouth. Midoriya kisses his chin sweetly.
Iida’s eyes roam from the sweat dripping down Todoroki's temple and the ice steam rising from his left side to the full flush over Midoriya’s face and his parted lips. He looks to his partners and sees all the adoration and love he feels for them reflected back at them.
“Shouto,” Iida says roughly. “Izuku.”
“Tenya,” they say together.
“I want this,” Iida says, voice thick. “I really, really want this. With both of you. I want to go on more dates with you. I want—I want you to be my—” He swallows. “I want you to be my boyfriends.”
“We are, silly,” Midoriya says gently, resting his head against Iida’s chest.
“Please take care of me,” Iida says, tears welling up in his eyes.
“You will be well-loved,” Todoroki says, and kisses him again.