Chapter Text
Ochako was in big trouble.
Like deep, deep trouble.
And it was all her own damn fault.
Because she was a big, dumb dummy.
It was never supposed to be like this. He was her roommate, a roommate for convenience and finance's sake, at that. She never expected their relationship to go past that. She liked him well enough when this whole fiasco started, but the plan had been that she would send him money for rent and utilities, and maybe they would pass each other like ships in the night, but that would be it.
They didn’t even work at the same agency, after all.
And despite his explosive personality, she expected that Katsuki would be fairly easy to live with. He was clean, he went to be bed early, and she knew there wouldn’t be any raucous parties going late into the night. She had expected that!
What she had not expected was how he’d be up her ass about eating dinner and drinking water…
Or how he would demand that she come and taste a dish to make sure it was ready and cooked to her liking.
“Open,” he would demand without any preamble and shove a spoon into her face.
Or how he would drag her along to go grocery shopping with him because like hell he was going to be the only one who knew how to cook around here.
“Did Kirishima know how to cook?”
“He did by the time he moved out, and Pinky can thank me for that shit.”
Or how he listened to her when she expressed her anxiety around buying the most expensive produce. She had half expected him either to tell her to get over it or even to buy it all himself (both would have made her feel like shit in their own way).
But he had surprised her, which it seemed he delighted in doing.
“Fucking fine,” he groused. “We don’t have to go top-shelf on some of these things, but we ain’t gonna compromise on taste, Cheeks.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” She really wouldn’t. Ochako liked her food to taste good, and despite the fact that she was still a little bit of a penny-pincher and had some deep-seated anxieties around spending money, she had learned what ingredients were worth spending money on and which ones she could afford to go a little cheaper on.
“S’ fine,” Katsuki had grumbled around his fork that night, and Ochako couldn’t hold back her triumphant grin at the concession. But she noticed now, even when she didn’t do the shopping, that some of those bargain items made their way into Katsuki’s grocery bag.
And all of that would have been manageable. Truly.
Ochako was a strong, independent woman, dammit! She wouldn’t be seduced entirely by domestic fluff, shopping trips, and the fact that she occasionally saw him without his shirt on (the first time had sent her into a blushing, sputtering mess that she feebly hid by throwing the fridge open and ducking behind it- fearless, pro-hero that she was).
But, all that to say, she was well and truly in trouble. She should have known it the first time that she woke up in her bed after being entirely sure that she had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the T.V.
She knew it was a bad habit.
But, like many bad habits (like skipping meals), she had her reasons.
Sometimes it was hard for her to sleep in silence. Sometimes she needed white noise. Sometimes it felt like the weight of all the things she carried, while negated in the moment and heat of mission, came crashing back on top of her as soon as she hung up her helmet.
She knew being a hero was hard for everyone. She wasn’t special in that way. But…there was something different about working rescue. Just as often as she found herself face-to-face with villains, she found herself face-to-face with the wide eyes and gasping breathes of terrified civilians.
So sometimes she needed something to distract her while she fell asleep, something a little louder than the screams that were sometimes too loud. The first time she did it, she hadn’t been shaken from her sleep in the trip from the coach to her room; she had even wondered if she had sleep-walked to her room.
The second time it happened, it had been after a particularly hard mission where she tried for about an hour to sleep in her bed only to drag herself back out to the couch after being unable to force away the images burned into her brain that she knew it would take time and a few sessions with her agency-contracted therapist to deal with.
She had been half-asleep when she heard the front door of their apartment open as Katsuki returned from patrol. But her body felt like lead, and she couldn’t even open her eyes as she was weighed down in that foggy sleep that so often accompanied a night of T.V. watching.
She had meant to mumble a greeting, but it was interrupted by Katsuki’s quietly swearing under his breath and picking up the remote from the arm of the couch to turn the T.V. off. She was about to protest. She was still feeling anxious and sad. She wasn’t ready to go be alone in her bed yet.
But before she could wake up enough for that, before she could respond, she found herself being lifted up from the couch. It was…an odd sensation, one she barely knew what to do with in that moment.
“Dumbass,” she heard him mutter above her. “Grown-ass woman, start acting like it. “
She lifted buildings, buses, and bridges.
Regularly.
All the time.
But this feeling was new.
The feeling of being lifted was…so different, of becoming weightless, not by her own will but the will of another. And she had been grateful in the moment that her eyes were closed, because she was so exhausted and emotional, and she could feel painful tears prickling behind her eyes and in her throat without her say-so.
She was strong. She was. She had fought tooth and nail to be recognized and taken seriously- she was still fighting. She had drawn a lot of hard lines about her public image, and it made things harder on her than it needed to be sometimes. But she wanted to stand on her work as a hero. She worked hard, every second of every day.
And the truth was- she was tired.
The losses were wearing on her. She felt every one of them in her blood and bones. And it felt good to be carried sometime.
It was everything she could do not to snuggle in just a little closer. But she didn’t want him to know that she was awake. She didn’t know what he would do if she woke up. Would he be embarrassed? Would he drop her? She doubted that.
He was solid and strong.
And she felt weightless.
Sometimes, it felt good to be carried. It had taken every ounce of her will power not to reach out to him after he bent to lay her in her bed.
At the time, she had thought it was innocent enough, a moment of self-indulgent weakness when she had felt sad and tired. But then it happened again. And once more. And then again. She wasn’t trying to fool him or trick him. She just liked those brief moments of closeness with him. She found they did more to ease her soul than falling asleep in front of the T.V.
She found herself craving that feeling of being held.
For a long time, she tried to pretend it didn’t mean anything other than that. But then, she found herself wanting to sit closer to him on the couch when they watched TV together, and she had all but combusted when he reached out to wipe a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that,” he asked suspiciously, after turning back to his own dinner. She supposed it wasn’t so unusual; she was a messy eater, something he never missed the chance to comment on.
“N-no reason,” she murmured, looking away. He made a noise that indicated that he did not, in fact, believe her when she said that. But she wasn’t lying- not really.
There was nothing to tell.
Nothing to explain.
It was a crush- that was all. A stupid crush that she would get over soon, a crush that there was absolutely no reason for her to indulge.
Because he was Katsuki Bakugo- pro hero Dynamight- and he only had room for one desire inside of him, and that was to be the number one hero. She knew that. She admired and respected that in him. It pushed her to be better.
It always had.
But still…she had told herself after Deku that her pining days were over- left where they belonged in her first year at UA. And, so far, she had done pretty damn well.
Until Katsuki-Fucking-Bakugo.
All sexy and shirtless and wiping his thumb over her cheek like it’s no big deal.
Ugh .
She was such a dumbass.
###
“Shoto!”
Ochako waved across the café to grab the attention of her friend. He stood out like a sore thumb wherever he went, both as a recognizable hero and as a human who was so beautiful it was hard to look away. Shoto walked up to the table, and his lips pursed slightly at the sight of the coffee already waiting for him. She stood up before he could say anything, excited to see her long-lost friend, and held out her arms for a hug, which he returned with well-earned ease that took several years to come by. He had loosened up considerably since UA and even more so since he and Deku started dating, but still, he wasn’t generous with his physical affection, and Ochako appreciated being one of the few that he allocated that to.
“What is this,” he asked, gesturing toward the steaming cup.
“It’s a welcome home latte!”
“Uh-huh…” He always looked at her that way when she spent any money on him- he and Deku both- even if it was on something as small as a latte. But he was too polite to reject her gift.
“I wasn’t gone that long,” he said, sitting down on the other side of the table.
“Uh, a month and a half is a long time, Shoto,” she pouted playfully. “Izuku and I were lost without you.”
“Liar,” he said, sipping his coffee.
“Not a liar,” she protested. “A month and a half is too long!”
“I’ll pass that complaint to my agency,” he said.
“Please do,” she said with a pleased smile. “Tell them that your dear friend and your “roommate” have lodged this complaint.”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed at Deku’s designation. “I know it’s stupid.”
“I’m just teasing, Shoto,” she said. “You guys don’t have to go public until you’re ready. It’s no one’s business except yours.”
He shrugged. “I suppose,” he said. “But if it were up to me, we would be done with this stupid charade.”
“Well,” said Ochako. “To be fair, it’s not as if either of you are very good at charades.”
“Wow,” said Shoto. “Rude.”
“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “It’s just…” She abruptly cut off her sentence as the waitress brought over a plate with a slice of cake and two forks. After setting it between them, she lingered for a moment, her eyes raking over Shoto eagerly. It wasn’t unusual for him to get attention. His distinct hair and face made him easy to spot even in civilian clothes. And, she suspected, even if he wasn’t a hero that he would be getting looks either way.
“Thank you so much,” said Ochako, waiting for the girl to leave before turning back to Shoto, who was looking at the cake.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” she said, cutting off a bite. “You knew I was going to get cake.” He sighed, but he didn’t protest as he took up the second fork. “Anyway…like I was saying…it’s not like you two are subtle or anything.”
“Well then, how come we were able to keep it secret this long?”
“Uh, because the paparazzi are fucking morons!”
“…6 months, and you’re already starting to sound like your roommate.”
She rolled her eyes. “They are morons! They have a picture, a literal picture of him taking a bite of cupcake that you were holding!”
“Roommate things,” said Shoto with a shrug.
“Bros being bros,” she finished with a smirk. “But seriously, you don’t think Deku would go public if told him you wanted to?”
“I’m certain he would,” he said. “But he wants to wait until he breaks the top ten. He cares about his rank, and he doesn’t want who he’s dating or not dating to impact his ranking.”
“Please,” she said. “The minute you both go public, you’re both going to skyrocket to the top ten.”
“That’s the problem,” he said.
“That’s being a hero in today's culture,” she said. “Your image, your love life, and how much of a stir you create in the media are just as important as your actual work.” Shoto raised an eyebrow and observed her speculatively.
“You met with your agent today, didn’t you,’ he asked knowingly.
She grumbled and took a bite of her cake. “Yeah,” she said. “My whole lack of a love life apparently really hurts my marketability…”
“Having a boyfriend would help your ranking?”
“No…no…no…” she said hurriedly with a bitter laugh. “Dating would because then I don’t come across as a prude, having a committed boyfriend would hurt my ranking because then that would alienate my male fans.”
“That sounds…”
“Fucked?”
“Speaking of your roommate…”
“Who was speaking of my roommate,” she snarked.
“…just make him take you on some dates; I’m sure he’d be more than willing to oblige.”
“Don’t tease me, Shoto,” she pouted, taking another bite.
“I’m not.”
“How would fake dating a guy I have a real crush on help the situation, you turd,” she asked, brandishing her fork at him.
“Touchy,” he commented. “I’m saying date him for real.”
She cocked her head to the side with a patronizing smile. “Tell me, Shoto, what about Dynamight makes you think he’s the type to take me on a date.”
He glared at her. “Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you.”
“It’s not self-deprecation,” she said. “It’s honesty! Have you seen him?”
“I have.”
“Without his shirt,” she pressed with a dreamy sigh.
“We shared a locker room, remember?” asked Shoto. “I’ve seen him with a hell of a lot less than that.”
“Then you get my point…” she said, pushing the last bite of the cake over to Shoto.
He took a bite, leaving the tiniest of slivers left anytime he took the “last” bite and pushed it back toward her. “I truly don’t.”
“My point is, I’m done pining after guys who have zero interest in me. It’s embarrassing and stupid.”
“To be fair, that’s only happened once, and the guy ended up liking men, so…”
“True, but still, apparently I’m not interesting enough to break the top 20 sooo…I can’t imagine that Bakugo would waste his time with…OWWWE!” She jerked back as Shoto’s finger collided with her forehead in a painful flick.
“Stop it!”
Her eyes widened, affronted. “You just flicked…”
“Sssh…” he hissed, making a closing motion with his fingers.
“Sho don’t…’
“Psss…” he hissed, silencing her. “If the next words that come out of your mouth aren’t either ‘I have no interest in dating Bakugo because he’s a raging asshole’ or ‘He’d be lucky to have me,’ then I don’t want to hear them.”
She rolled her eyes and slumped back into her chair, arms flailed out dramatically. “Fiiiine…” she said. “You know…” she leaned forward, so she was pressed against the table. “This is so annoying.”
“What is?”
“I know how to take care of myself, Shoto.”
“I know it,” he said.
“I have become a badass rescue hero.”
“I have a Uravity keychain myself,” he interjected.
“Who can also kick villain ass!”
“I have seen it happen with my own two eyes.”
“But!” She let her head fall down against the table.
“But…you want to cuddle with Lord Explosion murder,” he offered casually.
She whimpered. “I do…I really do…”
“I find that mental image very disturbing.”
“Well,” said Ochako. “Don’t worry because it’s going to stay a mental image.”
“Hasn’t he carried you to bed like five times....”
“With his giant, defined tree trunks that could just…” she sighed. “Do things to me…Yes, he has. And I love it.” She looked up at him beseechingly. “Does that make me less badass, Shoto?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? Being attracted to competence and power and a guy who can fling you over his shoulder without breaking a sweat…” Shoto raised an eyebrow and smirked at her from over the cup. “Wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But you get to go home and get thrown over those brawny shoulders. I get to go home and pine in my room.”
“You could come over for dinner,” offered Shoto.
Ochako raised an eyebrow. “Deku hasn’t seen you in a month and a half,” she said, crossing her arms. “Do you really want me to be there for that?”
“You’re always welcome in our home.”
Her bottom lip jutted out, and she covered his hand with hers. “That’s so sweet, Shoto,” she sighed. “And will that invitation stand 10 years from now when you and Deku have adorable babies and need a third parent?”
“Of course, we’ll have an Ochako room set aside at all times.”
“Good,” she said. “And just be sure to check in on me if you don’t hear from me for a few days to make sure my five cats haven’t eaten me.”
“Do you have cats?”
“No,” she said. “Bakugo is allergic.”
Shoto snorted into his coffee. “I don’t know why, but that makes me terribly happy.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell him I told you!”
“What? That Dynamight is no match for fuzzy cat dandruff? The next time the paparazzi stops me, that will certainly be my opening statement.”
“You ass…”
“You missed me.”
She did. She really did.