Archive of Our Own ^beta

In the world of Minecraft, there are only two kinds of players; the builders, and the ones who are—well, a bit more intense. The type who speeds through the game, fights every boss, and won’t stop until they’ve beaten it in record time. That’s Katsuki.

He loves fighting the Ender Dragon the moment he spawns into a new world—then he’ll go after the rest of the bosses and it has to be on Hardcore mode. Anything less is for cowards. In his book, people who play on Normal or (god forbid) Easy are frauds. If you want to fight bosses, you do it the hard way. 

That’s exactly why he’s a speedrunner streamer. Katsuki’s lucky—he’s got a huge audience who actually enjoys watching him lose his mind on camera. He’s foul-mouthed, curses at everything that moves, and somehow, his viewers love him for it. So that’s his usual routine; after school or whenever he’s got time to spare, he fires up his Twitch account, OBS on one monitor, Minecraft Launcher on the other.

Today’s a little different, though. It’s earlier than he usually streams, but his third semester just ended, and he’s got time to kill. Plus, this isn’t just any stream—it’s a collab. An exclusive server run by his old friend, Kaminari.

They met years of years ago at TwitchCon. Kaminari—better known as “DunceFace” as Katsuki calls him originally just to piss him off—is another Minecraft streamer, though his stuff’s more on the chaotic, modded side. The two have done a few YouTube collabs before, which helped Katsuki’s channel blow up even more—since Kaminari’s got a massive fanbase of his own.

There are around sixteen or seventeen people invited to the server, but only six will be part of the collab today—and Katsuki’s one of them. Naturally, the owner himself, Kaminari, is in, and the other four are streamers Katsuki’s never actually played with before.

He knows a couple by name, though. Like the dude with the stupid red spiky hair—he does Minecraft only content too, but mostly for YouTube. Then there’s this green guy who calls his channel PlusUltraBuilder. Pfft. Katsuki can’t help laughing at the name, but the guy’s content isn’t half bad. His builds range from beginner-friendly to full-blown automatic farms that look way too clean to be legit. The guy’s also very active in the group chat—typing in all caps like his life depends on it.

Kaminari, being the super extra as he is, set up a dedicated Discord server for everyone. They’ll all hop in for introductions before the stream starts, which is why Katsuki did a little research on who he’s dealing with. He remembers one of today's streaming participants is a girl—a friend of the green guy—and she’s another builder. Great. So far it looks like this stream’s gonna be a builder-fest, with Katsuki as the only speedrunner to balance things out. Maybe that red-haired guy’s more of a fighter too, but still.

And then there’s the last guy—KittenBlock. Katsuki doesn’t want to sound sexist or anything, but he definitely assumed that was a girl. Not from the name but from his whole content vibe. Every thumbnail on the dude’s channel is drowning in pink palettes and cherry blossom planks. It’s not every day Katsuki meets a Minecraft player who hates spruce wood but uses pink everything. Like—what the hell? That’s a crime. Not to mention the graphics of this guy’s Minecraft is insane—dude’s got a 16-core Ryzen 9 and the dual-slot, triple-fan RTX 5090 with 32 GB GDDR7, plumbed into a 1200 W platinum-rated PSU. He must have been rich rich.

Anyway, that dude—KittenBlock—barely even shows up in the Discord. He introduced himself once, real short, and then disappeared like a ghost. Didn’t even bother showing up last night when Dunce Face tried to hold a prep meeting for today’s stream.

Whatever. Katsuki just hopes he won’t get stuck teaming with him later.

“Hello?”

Katsuki frowns. The voice isn’t familiar—low, smooth, and definitely masculine. He glances up at the corner of his screen, where the Discord overlay lights up with KittenBlock’s profile picture. He blinks, leaning closer like that’ll somehow change what he’s seeing.

“Hi? Can anyone hear me?”

What the fuck. That’s KittenBlock? There’s no way. The guy sounds nothing like his channel would suggest—no soft voice, no cutesy energy. Just… calm, deep, and stupidly composed. Katsuki’s never actually heard him talk before; all his YouTube videos are silent build showcases, and the guy rarely streams, so there aren’t any VODs floating around either.

He glances at his Twitch chat, and yeah—his viewers are collectively losing it.

PinkyGaming: wtf why is kittenblock’s voice so hot??
xxGRX56: bro sounds like he eats obsidian for breakfast
AleX11113: kats bro you good??

Katsuki quickly unmutes his mic. There’s no one else in the call yet—just him and this mysterious deep-voiced builder. “Yeah, mic’s fine,” he says, curt.

“Okay, thanks.”

“Whatever.”

“Sorry?” the voice replies, polite but confused.

“What?”

“…Never mind. So, Izuku’s not here yet?”

Katsuki squints at his screen. “Who the fuck is Izuku?”

There’s a short pause, filled only by the faint background hum of microphones. Then the voice speaks again, calm and just as deep as before.  “Oh. You’re… GroundZero?”

Katsuki freezes halfway through adjusting his headset. “Huh? Yeah. Why?”

“I see.”

That’s it. I see. Like the dude just solved a math problem instead of realizing he’s talking to one of the loudest Minecraft streamers on Twitch.

Meanwhile, Katsuki’s chat has already gone feral.

GuraXLlove: holy shit that’s the todoroki dude with the cats??
PinkyGaming: THAT’S TOTALLY KITTENBLOCK OMGGG
mncrft_ckrs: bro we’ve been bamboozled for MONTHS
ArmorGRNDZR: voice reveal era is INSANE
groundzero_armor: kats LOOK AT HIM HE’S SO CALM WHY IS HE SO CALM
LL67xx: guys that’s todoroki he rarely streams but pretty sure this is not his first stream so i dont think this is a voice reveal

Katsuki scrolls through the chaos, jaw tightening. “Tch. Didn’t think you’d sound like that.”

“Like what?” Todoroki’s tone doesn’t even waver.

“Like—whatever. Doesn’t matter.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how hot his ears feel.

Todoroki hums quietly, the sound somehow worse. “You’re… louder than I imagined.”

Katsuki almost chokes. “Have you not seen any of my streams? I fucking scream at anything.”

Before he can bite back, Kaminari’s voice bursts into the call, way too cheerful. “YO! You guys already in here? Let’s GOOOO!”

Katsuki glares at his screen like Kaminari just saved and ruined his life at the same time.

“It’s only us three, though. Where the fuck’s the rest?” he grumbles, clicking through the Discord list. Kaminari just laughs on the other end, loud and obnoxious, and Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts.

He glances at chat again—instant mistake. They’re flooding the screen, spamming emotes and theories, and for some goddamn reason, half of them are convinced he and KittenBlock make a good team.

“What the fuck is this nonsense? Me and that kitten guy ain’t a good combo! Y’all extras need to shut the fuck up—”

And then a loud bark of laughter comes through his headset.

Katsuki freezes. Oh.

Oh, fuck.

He didn’t mute himself.

The chat loses its collective mind.

ArmorGRNDZR: LMAOOOOO HE FORGOT TO MUTE 
PinkyGaming: KITTENBLOCK HEARD EVERYTHING 💀
peachybuildz: NOT “ME AND THAT KITTEN GUY” PLS I’M SCREAMING
AleX11113: “YALL EXTRAS” 😭😭😭

Kaminari’s still laughing, trying to get a word out between wheezes. “Sorry—sorry, Todoroki. I think I need to introduce Katsuki to you before he explodes.”

Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, “Too fucking late.”

Kaminari clears his throat. “Todoroki, this is Bakugou Katsuki—also known as GroundZero. And Kats, this is Todoroki, goes by KittenBlock on YouTube.”

There’s a short silence, then that same calm voice again—deep, even, completely unbothered. “Hi,” Todoroki says. “Nice to meet you, GroundZero.”

Katsuki can hear the faintest smile in his tone. It makes his stomach do something stupid, which he immediately blames on lag. But before Katsuki can come up with something to say back—preferably something that doesn’t sound like your voice is fucking weird—another voice suddenly cuts through the call, bright and loud.

“YO! Am I late?”

Katsuki exhales through his nose. “Speak of the devil.” 

Kirishima’s icon lights up in Discord, his laugh following right after. “Bro, this server’s already stacked! GroundZero, KittenBlock, Denkshicology—man, I’m feeling the pressure here.”

“Pressure my ass,” Katsuki mutters as he had actually talked with Kirishima last night, dude’s very energetic but he’s not bad to have around. Katsuki’s actually thinking to team up with him right after they spawn so they can go after the ender dragon right away.

“See? That’s the fire I missed!” Kirishima chuckles, his mic crackling slightly as he talks. “So, who’re we waiting on? I thought the first collab was supposed to be six people?”

“Yeah,” Kaminari replies, his voice buzzing with energy. “Izuku and Ochako are supposed to join in a few. They had something come up last night, but they said they’ll hop in before we start recording.”

Katsuki pauses mid-scroll through his chat. “…Wait.” He squints. “Izuku? The PlusUltraBuilder guy?”

“Yeah,” Kaminari says, grinning through his tone. “You know him?”

“Tch. Only from his builds.” Katsuki leans back in his chair, remembering Todoroki mentioning that name earlier. He glances at the overlay—Todoroki’s icon glows faintly green, like he’s listening quietly. “So that’s the guy you were talking about earlier,” Katsuki mutters.

“Yeah,” Todoroki answers simply. “He’s a… he’s my friend.”

Katsuki raises a brow, what’s with the hesitation there, very weird and before his brain can respond, his mouth is faster to react. “A friend friend or—”

Kaminari cuts him off before he can finish. “Okay, anyway, let’s focus, people! We’re setting up spawn today, right? Maybe do a little base tour once everyone’s in?”

Katsuki grumbles something unintelligible, his chat already running wild again.

groundzero_armor: kats jealous already LMAOO
PinkyGaming: “A FRIEND FRIEND OR—” I’M YELLINGGG
hotwingz: Todoroki really said calm dominance smh

Katsuki slams his mouse button a little harder than necessary. “I’m not fucking jealous. Extras, shut the fuck up.”

“Still not muted, bro,” Kaminari says, laughing.

“FUCK.” Katsuki barely has time to recover from his latest “forgot-to-mute” disaster before Discord chimes again—two new icons lighting up the voice channel.

“Hey guys! Sorry we’re late!”

The first voice is bright, cheerful, and a little too energetic for this early in the day. The next follows right after, soft and bubbly.

“Yeah, sorry! We got stuck sorting our mods folder—Izuku forgot to remove half the shaders again.”

“Hey! I was testing them,” Izuku protests, his tone easygoing, warm. 

Katsuki blinks at his screen, connecting the dots immediately. Green icon. Friendly voice. So this is PlusUltraBuilder.“’Sup,” he mutters and he’s sure he sounds super unenthusiastic.

“Oh! GroundZero!” Izuku’s voice perks up. “I’ve seen your runs before! You’re insane—you beat the dragon in, what, under fifteen minutes once?”

Katsuki leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Thirteen, actually.”

The call breaks into laughter. Kaminari whistles, Kirishima goes whoa, and Ochako giggles. “You’re that fast? That’s crazy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki mumbles, trying not to sound pleased. His chat’s already spamming again.

grndzeroEXTRA: kats getting praised LIVE?? rare footage someone clip that!!
axolotlqueen: omg izuku sounds so NICE wtf
PinkyGaming: todoroki went quiet hmm 👀

It’s true—Todoroki hasn’t said a word since Izuku joined. Katsuki glances at the overlay and sees the faint green ring flicker around Todoroki’s icon for a second before a low hum comes through.

“You’re late,” Todoroki says simply, but there’s no bite in his tone—just quiet amusement.

“Sorry, sorry!” Izuku laughs. “I told you, shaders took forever.”

Ochako giggles again. “He even crashed his launcher once.”

“I didn’t crash—okay, maybe once.”

The whole VC chuckles, and Katsuki sits there, arms crossed, watching the monitor like he’s about to square up with it. Todoroki’s voice is still calm, but softer now, smoother somehow. There’s a warmth to it that wasn’t there before.

He shouldn’t notice that. He really shouldn’t.

Kaminari claps his hands in the background, snapping everyone back. “Alright! Looks like everyone’s here now. Let’s boot up the server and spawn in. We’ll do a quick intro, check out the area, and maybe build some tiny starter bases before the chaos begins.”

“Sounds good,” Izuku says. “Do we spawn together or random?”

“Together,” Todoroki replies. “I set the coordinates already.”

Katsuki frowns, glancing at the top of his screen. “You’re hosting the world?”

“Yes,” Todoroki says easily. “I offered. Kaminari’s internet isn’t reliable.”

“HEY!” Kaminari protests immediately. “It’s reliable—ish.”

“Sure it is,” Todoroki answers, and the smirk in his tone makes Katsuki’s stomach twist again.

Kirishima’s laughing, Ochako’s giggling, Kaminari’s fake-offended, and Katsuki’s chat is having the time of their lives.

brickboi98: todoroki roasting dunceface so politely omg
PinkyGaming: kats sounds jealous again 😭
frogboy420: why is this vc like a sitcom already
yoYozr: @PinkyGaming yo shut the fuck up with ur dumb theories
PinkyGaming: @yoYozr EXCUSE ME?!!

Katsuki exhales sharply and drags his cursor over the multiplayer list. “Alright, enough talking. Let’s just fucking start already.” 

“Right, Bakugou.” He hears Todoroki agrees. 

“Okay guys, let’s disconnect from Discord and use the in-game comm for fun!” Kaminari says and everyone agrees. 

Katsuki disconnects from the call and then removes the discord notification from his Minecraft Launcher. And as he clicks into the world, his last thought before the loading screen flashes up is that he hates—really hates—how calm Todoroki sounds saying his name.

The world then loads in with a soft chime, pixels fading into focus. Katsuki spawns next to a patch of oak trees, sunlight spilling over the blocky grass. He adjusts his headset, brings his mic stand closer and moves his mouse, scanning the area—Kaminari’s yellow hoodie skin bounces in the distance, Kirishima’s red hair catching the light. They’re actually quite far from him. Ochako’s pink armor trim glints nearby. Everything looks normal… until another player materializes beside him.

Katsuki pauses.

The skin’s familiar but—off. Definitely custom.

Short cropped hair, half white and half red, fading neatly down the middle. Eyes mismatched—one gray, one icy blue. The outfit’s simple, clean, no flashy armor or neon shading. It looks hand-designed, like someone spent hours getting every pixel just right.

“What the hell,” Katsuki mutters under his breath, circling the avatar once as he realizes the name on top of the half ice half fire character before him. “That’s not your YouTube skin.”

Across the screen, Todoroki’s character turns slightly, as if he can hear him even without Discord. The server mod’s proximity chat must’ve kicked in, because a moment later, Todoroki’s voice comes through his speakers—faintly echoing, as if carried by in-game air. “I changed it.”

Katsuki nearly chokes. “You what? Who the fuck designs a skin like that?”

“I did,” Todoroki says simply.

Of course he did.

Katsuki opens his mouth to say something snarky, but the faint growl of a zombie cuts through the moment. One, then two, then five—shuffling out from the shade of a nearby oak. Katsuki reacts on instinct. He switches to his stone sword and charges forward, slashing the first zombie down before it can even hiss.

One of the mods on this server has a spawn effect; whenever more than five players join for the first time, an enemy wave spawns—followed by a loud explosion meant to scatter them.

“Guys! I think the bomb’s about to—ARRGH!”

Katsuki winces as someone’s scream blasts through his headset before cutting off abruptly. His screen flashes red, then black. The next thing he hears is the chorus of mob noises filling his ears—groans, hisses, that damn skeleton clatter.

Then—BANG.

A creeper blows up behind him. The massive explosion shakes his screen, signaling the end of the initial attack. Katsuki grips his mouse tighter, swinging his sword at the nearest zombies while dodging skeleton arrows. He’s got zero armor, and the health bar keeps flashing dangerously low.

In the middle of the chaos, he notices movement near the base of a nearby mountain. When he turns his camera, he nearly laughs out loud—because standing there is the most ridiculous skin he’s ever seen. Half red, half white hair, one gray eye, one blue. The guy looks like a walking ad for those old IcyHot sprays old people use on sore backs.

Katsuki barks a short laugh but doesn’t have time to admire the absurdity because a skeleton arrow lands right in his shoulder. “The fuck’s your problem?! Take that, you little fucker!” He spams left-click, his other hand darting over the keys to dodge and strafe. The motions are practiced, almost automatic.

“Shit, there’s more,” he mutters, spinning to take down another. Behind him, Todoroki’s character moves with surprising efficiency—no panicked swings, no spam clicking, just clean hits, timed perfectly. He lands a final blow that sends the last zombie flying back in a puff of smoke.

Katsuki exhales, shaking out his hand. “You’re not bad,” he says grudgingly.

Todoroki’s character turns toward him, sword lowered. “You too.” Then, without missing a beat he adds, “There’s a cave nearby. We should go there before nightfall—to get iron for better gear. After we gather enough food of course.”

Katsuki blinks. That’s… exactly what he’d planned to do. “Oh?” he says, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice. “You sure you can handle that, builder boy?”

“I can handle it,” Todoroki replies evenly. “Unless you’re scared of the dark.”

Katsuki snorts, already sprinting toward the direction Todoroki’s pointing. “Ha. As if. Let’s see who gets the first iron set, IcyHot.”

And if his chat blows up with spam the second those words leave his mouth—

PinkyGaming: HE GAVE HIM A NICKNAME ALREADY 😭😭😭
grndzeroEXTRA: “ICYHOT” I’M LOSING IT
peachybuildz: enemies to mining partners speedrun ANY%

—Katsuki pretends not to notice.

They gather food resources by hunting animals since there aren’t any nearby villages to loot. Todoroki spots a ruined portal earlier, so they use the flint and steel from it to save their stone swords—just setting the animals on fire and collecting the cooked meat afterward.

Chat immediately starts freaking out about it, spamming the feed. Katsuki groans, rubbing his temple. “Shut the fuck up—as if you extras never do this shit early in the game.”

“Oh, what’s happening?” That same even tone of Todoroki’s cuts through the tension.

“Fuck—forgot to mute again.” Katsuki exhales through his nose. “I don’t usually stream with people, so yeah, my chat’s being fucking annoying as always. Apparently they’re a bunch of PETA animal lovers or some shit.”

“Ah, they think this is cruel,” Todoroki says mildly. “Sorry, Bakugou’s chat, but this is efficient.”

That only makes things worse. Katsuki watches the chat explode again—half of them swooning, half typing things like ‘he’s so cool omg’ and ‘Todoroki marry me pls!!!’

Katsuki unmutes just to yell. “Fuck you all! Acting nice just because it’s some hot guy with a hot voice, huh?” Which, of course, only backfires. The teasing starts immediately—lines flooding in like ‘so you admit he’s hot?’ and ‘caught in 4K!’

“You know what?” Katsuki growls. “I’m banning everyone after this.” 

The sun dips low as they head toward the cave, the light washing everything in that soft, orange glow that Minecraft always gets before night hits. Katsuki sprints ahead, stone sword out, footsteps crunching through dirt blocks. The proximity mod makes it sound like he’s really there—his own breathing loud in his ears, the distant sounds of mobs spawning behind the trees.

Todoroki follows just a few blocks behind, his steps slower but deliberate. His character’s movement is weirdly graceful—no wasted motion, no panic jumps, just quiet precision. When they reach the mouth of the cave, Katsuki stops to place a torch.

“Alright,” he mutters, glancing over his shoulder. “We’ll go left first. Usually better iron veins near gravel patches.”

Todoroki hums softly, that low, calm sound filtering through the mod again. “You’ve done this a lot.”

“Obviously.” Katsuki breaks through a patch of cobblestone, the sound of mining echoing faintly. “Speedrunning, remember? I live in caves.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.”

Katsuki turns his head so fast his headset cord nearly tangles. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just an observation.” Todoroki’s tone is perfectly even, which only makes Katsuki’s irritation spike higher. He grumbles under his breath and keeps mining, though his chat clearly catches all of it.

PinkyGaming: “that doesn’t sound healthy” HELP 😭
brickboi98: todoroki really said touch grass
frogboy420: kats losing 1v1 to sarcasm again 💀
grndzerobithc: idk about u all but im loving this stream alr!
PinkyGaming: @grndzerobithc SAME OMG

The deeper they go, the darker it gets. Katsuki’s torches flicker across the walls, lighting up veins of coal and the occasional shimmer of iron. The sound design from the mod makes everything feel closer—the drip of virtual water, the soft echo of footsteps, the occasional metallic clang of their swords when they swing too near each other.

Todoroki’s quiet most of the time, only speaking when it’s necessary. “There’s iron here,” he says at one point, breaking through a layer of stone to reveal the ore. Katsuki glances over. The light catches Todoroki’s skin again—the half-red, half-white hair glinting weirdly warm in torchlight. It’s stupidly detailed for a blocky character model.

“Good find,” Katsuki mutters, moving in to help mine the vein. Their avatars stand close, the two pickaxes moving in sync for a few seconds. It shouldn’t feel like anything, but it does—something about the rhythm, the way they move around each other without colliding. Efficient. Easy.

He doesn’t know if that annoys or impresses him more.

Then, out of nowhere, the hiss of a creeper cuts through the quiet. Katsuki reacts first—he spins, sword out, already sprinting forward—but it’s too close. The green shape flashes bright white. He braces for the explosion—

—and then sees a wall of cobblestone appear right in front of it.

The blast muffles, barely nicking their health bars.

“What the—” Katsuki stares. “Did you just wall off a creeper with perfect timing?”

Todoroki’s voice comes through, calm as always. “Yeah. I’m used to handling them near builds.”

Katsuki turns his avatar to face him, blinking once, then twice. “You’re kidding. Nobody reacts that fast unless they script.”

“I don’t script.”

“Bullshit.”

Todoroki just tilts his character’s head slightly, as if shrugging. “You can test me later.”

Katsuki grinds his teeth but can’t stop the small, reluctant grin tugging at his mouth. “You’re on.”

They keep mining deeper, the light from the torches fading behind them as the cave opens into a wider chamber. The sound of water running nearby mixes with the faint echoes of bats. Their inventories fill up fast—iron, coal, even a little copper—and the efficiency between them is unnerving. Katsuki places torches, Todoroki mines clean lines, neither of them having to ask what the other’s doing.

By the time they’ve looped back toward the surface, their chat is absolutely melting down.

peachybuildz: not them syncing perfectly what is this couple core??
axolotlqueen: icyhot x groundzero collab WHEN
PinkyGaming: the sexual tension is crazy for block men rn
princessdemon: guys who’s katsuki’s playing w?
PinkyGaming: @princessdemon rn with him is KittenBlock from YouTube, other squad Denkshicology, RedRiotCrafts, PlusUltraBuilder, and UravityBlocks!

Katsuki reads one of the comments and snorts out loud. “Chat, I swear to god—”

“Still unmuted,” Todoroki’s voice cuts in smoothly.

“Fuck.”

And Todoroki laughs.

It’s quiet, low, and kind of unfair. Katsuki mutters something under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else, and switches windows to fix his hotbar. He can feel his chat going feral again, spamming emojis and keysmashes that flood the screen. He doesn’t even need to read them to know what they’re saying—half teasing him, half thirsting over Todoroki.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, grabbing what’s left of their supplies. “Alright, I’m done dealing with this circus. We’re heading deeper to the deepslate levels.”

Todoroki hums in agreement, already turning his character toward the narrow entrance they’d marked earlier that will lead them into diamond levels. “There should be diamonds there,” he says, tone as calm and matter-of-fact as ever. “We’ll need better tools though.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Katsuki follows close behind, torch in hand. The soft flicker of light catches on the pixelated stone walls, and the faint sound of running water echoes somewhere deeper inside. He crafts his first furnace and places it on the surface of the cobblestone floor and puts the raw iron and the coals there to gain iron ingots. “Here.” He throws the first batch towards Todoroki avatar. 

“Thanks. Do you have enough for yourself?”

“Yeah no worries.” Katsuki calmly replies, he has three stacks of raw iron so they are more than enough to craft a set of iron armors and tools. He makes a mistake looking at his chat though.

grndzeroEXTRA: ARE YOU GUYS SEEING WHAT I AM SEEING
XLxL67: woah he actually gave him a bunch of iron that’s unexpected
PinkyGaming: OMG GIFTING GIFTS LOVE LANGUAGE

“Shut up, chats. And Pinky I swear to god I’m gonna fucking ban you after this stream!”

“Do you always stream this way?” Todoroki asks suddenly.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You talk to your viewers like they’re old friends.”

Katsuki snorts. “That’s because they’re idiots who’ve been watching me long enough to know I don’t sugarcoat shit.”

“Hmm.” Todoroki’s avatar looks up from mining a block of iron ore. “It’s nice.”

Katsuki freezes for half a second—not long enough for chat to notice, but just enough for him to lose his rhythm. He recovers fast, clicking a little harder than necessary. “You’re weird.”

“Maybe.” Todoroki’s voice carries that faint lilt again, like he’s smiling. “But I think we make a good team.”

Katsuki doesn’t answer that. He just keeps mining—though he catches himself glancing at Todoroki’s avatar every so often, watching the way the light flickers against that ridiculous red-and-white skin. And maybe, just maybe, he starts to think it doesn’t look so stupid anymore.

Thirty minutes later, Katsuki’s fully decked out in diamond armor—on the second day, no less. They’ve spent two nights in the same cave, which turned out to have both a mineshaft and an ancient city underneath. Between the jumpscares from the darkness and the constant fear of waking the Warden, Katsuki’s managed to loot a ton of high-tier items from the chests down there. When they finally climb back toward the surface, both he and Todoroki are glowing in full diamond gear and nearly complete diamond tools.

They start heading back to the base coordinates Kaminari sent about ten minutes ago. The other four have already picked out a good spot to build and begun laying the foundations. Katsuki’s not the type to stay in one place for long, but he doesn’t mind setting up something permanent for this server—it’s part of the fun.

When they arrive, the base main foundation is already massive and halfway done. Katsuki spots Dunce Face sprinting toward them, his cheerful voice getting louder through comms as he gets closer. “Yo!!! You guys are back with diamond gear—holy shit! This is GroundZero, everyone! Wow!”

“Nah, Halfie’s not bad. He helped a lot.” Katsuki opens his inventory, tossing Kaminari a diamond chestplate and a pair of boots he looted earlier. “You can have it.”

“Thanks, Kacchan!!!”

“Fucking stop calling me that, for fuck’s sake!”

Katsuki glances over his shoulder—only to realize Todoroki isn’t behind him anymore. The guy’s already walked over to PlusUltraBuilder, tossing a bunch of diamonds at that stupid green-haired avatar.

Katsuki huffs, shifting his camera away. “The fuck’s this thing?” he asks instead, eyeing the huge structure in the middle of the clearing.

“Oh, that’s gonna be a big statue, man!” Kirishima’s avatar bounces in excitement beside him. “Sero’s marking this area—he’s gonna make statues for all of us here!”

“Sero, the guy who also does art, right?” Katsuki asks, half-listening.

“Yeah, man! He’s really good at it!”

Katsuki hums, scanning the area again. He notices that Izuku’s not with Todoroki anymore—green boy’s busy building something massive, judging by the sheer outline of blocks he’s placed. Probably his base.

Fine. Whatever. He doesn’t give a shit.

Katsuki decides to work on his own too, claiming the far left side of the shared area—the part closest to the cave. Perfect spot for setting up XP farms later around the monster spawners he found. He dumps his loot into a few chests, leaving three iron axes out for chopping wood before heading off to find the nearest taiga biome.

But before he leaves, his camera catches Todoroki again, standing way too close to that damn green-haired avatar. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

He doesn’t even know why the hell that irritates the shit out of him—and because he knows himself best, that means he’s about to be impossible to deal with. So, he does what he always does when he’s annoyed: he works.

He spends the rest of his stream alone, gathering wood like a man possessed—spruce, jungle, dark oak, mangrove, all that good stuff. The grind keeps him focused, quiet.

On the way back to the base, though, something catches his eye. A flash of pink leaves in the distance. He zooms in and clicks his tongue when he realizes what it is—a cherry blossom biome.

For some reason, it makes him think of Todoroki. He hesitates for a moment, mouse hovering midair, before shaking his head and steering his avatar straight back to base. No detours.

Chat explodes immediately:

PinkyGaming: CHERRY BLOSSOMS OMG SO PRETTY
groundzerosupremacy: pick some petals for todoroki 😭
groundzfan69: no bc why does that remind him of kittenblock huh??
BakugouApologist: HE’S BLUSHING I SWEAR

He ignores all of it. Keeps his mic off, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the screen.

By the time he returns, everyone’s busy working on their builds. Stupid IcyHot is nowhere in sight, and Katsuki hates—hates—that he even notices.

He opens the in-game chat just to check progress updates, only to see KittenBlock:

anyone seen a cherry blossom biome nearby?

The replies roll in one by one. He waits for anyone before sending his answer to inform the location if anyone’s not helping. 

Denkshicology: nah
Denkshicology: not yet
RedRiotCrafts: still exploring
PlusUltraBuilder: sorry i havent i’ll look it up for u later

Katsuki stares at the last message for a second, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Then he closes the chat window without typing a thing. Instead, he goes back to placing blocks, shaping the foundation of his starter house while pretending not to see the dozens of chat messages asking why he’s ignoring Todoroki.

He tells himself it’s because he’s busy. Not because his chest feels weird about it.

💎⛏️

Katsuki ends the stream sometime close to midnight, exhaustion sitting heavy on his shoulders. This is by far the longest he’s streamed. The chat finally dies down after hours of chaos, and he slumps back in his chair, headset tossed aside. His monitor glows in the dim light of his room—one last line of text flickering at the corner of the screen.

Stream ended. Thanks for watching.

He exhales, long and deep. “Finally,” he mutters, shutting down OBS and Discord notifications that keep pinging like mosquitoes. His dorm’s quiet except for the hum of the mini fan sitting beside his desk. Outside the window, the campus courtyard lamps cast pale yellow streaks through the blinds.

It’s been a long-ass day—two nights of mining, one surprise ancient city, and a stream that ended with him pretending not to care about cherry blossoms. He rubs his temples, feeling the ache crawl up his neck. “Fuck it,” he says to nobody and throws himself onto the bed, still in his hoodie.

Sleep hits faster than he expects.

Morning comes with too-bright sunlight slicing through the blinds and his phone buzzing against his nightstand. Katsuki groans, rolls over, and squints at the screen. Discord notifications—three, maybe four of them—stacked from different servers. He scrolls through lazily until one particular name catches his eye.

KittenBlock sent you a friend request.

He blinks at it. For a second, his brain doesn’t process. Then it hits him. “...The fuck?”

It takes him a minute before he taps Accept without thinking. The notification disappears, replaced by the little green dot next to KittenBlock#0416. He stares at it for another few seconds, waiting for something—another message, maybe. Nothing comes.

“Whatever,” he mutters, tossing his phone aside. He’s got a full morning ahead, two back-to-back classes, and he refuses to start the day thinking about some red-and-white-haired guy from a block game.

By the time afternoon rolls around, Katsuki’s trudging across campus with his earbuds in, one strap of his backpack hanging off his shoulder. The weather’s disgustingly nice—blue sky, light breeze, the kind that makes everyone else want to sit on the grass and enjoy the day. He, on the other hand, just wants coffee and for calculus to be over.

He’s halfway up the stairs to the math building when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Once, then twice. He ignores it at first, but it keeps buzzing like someone’s trying to set off an alarm in his jeans.

With an annoyed grunt, he digs it out—and nearly drops it when he sees the name on the screen.

KittenBlock: you know where the cherry blossom biome is
KittenBlock: you know it right

Katsuki freezes mid-step. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. He’s standing on the landing while people brush past him to get inside, but his brain’s busy replaying last night—pink trees, his dumb hesitation, chat screaming about it.

He stares at the messages for three full seconds before locking his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. Not dealing with this. Not before calculus.

Class drags. Equations blur on the projector, the professor’s voice turns into a background drone, and Katsuki’s half convinced he’s aging in real time. When the clock finally hits the hour mark, he stretches his neck, ready to bolt.

His phone buzzes again. He checks it without thinking—and there it is.

KittenBlock: why didn’t you tell me?
KittenBlock: are you mad at me?
KittenBlock: did i do something to offend you bakugou?

Katsuki blinks, sitting there with his pen halfway in the air. The text stares back at him, polite and concerned, like it didn’t just nearly give him heartburn. “The hell…” he mutters, thumbs flying over the screen.

GroundZero: idk what you’re talking abt

It doesn’t take long. The dots appear immediately.

KittenBlock: you ignored me

GroundZero: i didn’t read ur chat last night

KittenBlock: lies. i saw the clip.

Katsuki’s brows shoot up. Before he can even react, another notification pops up—an attachment. It’s a Twitch clip, titled ‘GroundZero finding the cherry blossom biome (he totally blushes lol)’—and then another one where his POV clearly shows Todoroki’s in-game message.

“Motherf—” He slaps a hand over his face, groaning quietly.

Another message comes in.

KittenBlock: can’t say i’m not surprised that you look like that irl

GroundZero: WTF IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN??

KittenBlock: idk i’ve been picturing you like ur avatar the whole stream

GroundZero: wtf?? do you think i look like a skull irl?? you’re dumb

KittenBlock: didn’t think you’d actually look the opposite of your avatar. you’re blond.

GroundZero: do you have a problem with that or what?!

There’s a long pause. Just long enough for Katsuki to think the conversation’s over.

KittenBlock: no. you look cute.

Katsuki chokes on absolutely nothing. A few heads turn in the lecture hall as he coughs into his fist, glaring at his phone like it’s his phone’s mistake, well half of it is. He slams the Discord app closed, shoves the phone into his bag, and sits back with his arms crossed, ears hot and brain blank.

“What the fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “What the actual fuck.”

Katsuki chooses to focus on the lecturer, or at least he tries to. It’s useless—his heart’s beating loud enough to drown out every word about derivatives and limits, and he’s definitely overheating. Because what the hell was that message? Did Todoroki—no, KittenBlock, that smug, monotone bastard—just flirt with him?

That annoying fucker. What does he think he is?

Katsuki sinks lower in his chair, scowling at his notebook and debating whether it’s actually a bad decision to agree with stupid Dunce Face’s idea to join that stupid stream. He spends the rest of the class in a haze, alternating between pretending to take notes and replaying the silly “you look cute” line in his head like a curse.

By the time the lecture ends, he bolts straight out of the building. Two hours later, he’s home—shoes kicked off, bag dumped somewhere near the couch, microwave dinner in hand—and he almost forgets about the whole thing. Almost.

Until he opens Twitter.

His notifications are murdering his phone. He hasn’t checked since last night, but the number sitting on his screen looks like an emergency alert. His mentions are a mess of tags and quote tweets.

There are follow requests waiting, too—some with verified checkmarks. He squints at the profile pictures and recognizes a few of them immediately: that girl from the stream, the PlusUltra builder with the green avatar, and someone with the username @Shouto.

Just Shouto.

His profile picture is a stupid cat.

Katsuki clicks on the account, and his eyes trail down to the bio. There’s a link there—KittenBlock’s YouTube and Twitch.

“Figures,” he mutters, clicking his tongue before reluctantly following back. He follows the others too, because he already has Shitty Hair on his mutual list from before the stream. It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything. 

Except the notifications won’t stop. Apparently, he’s trending. Actually trending. The tag #GroundZeroxKittenBlock is sitting there, bright and mocking. Still climbing.

Katsuki scrolls through the posts for a few seconds, jaw tightening with every tweet—clips of him and Todoroki mining together, the banter at the start, the stupid cherry blossom moment. There’s even a slow-motion edit someone made with romantic background music.

He doesn’t need more headache fuel in his life, so he slams the app shut.

Dinner. Food. Peace. That’s what he needs.

After eating, he goes back to his room and powers on his PC. He’s not streaming tonight—he’s too fried for that—but he logs into the server anyway, wanting to finish building what he started.

The loading screen fades. His base spawns in. And right there, standing by the half-finished frame of his starter house—is KittenBlock. That stupid black-and-white avatar, spinning slowly like he’s been waiting.

Katsuki freezes. “…you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Hi,” the motherfucker greets and Katsuki doesn’t even hesitate—he swings his sword and smacks the avatar once but makes sure not to kill him although this server is not set to hardcore Katsuki won't just kill another player like that. “What was that for?”

“Leave me alone. I want a peaceful time,” Katsuki snaps, already crouching to place a few deepslate stairs for his roof. He wants to focus on finishing his starter base and of course IcyHot shows up the moment he’s starting to feel calm.

“Are you streaming?” Todoroki asks, unbothered.

“No.” Katsuki’s answer comes out quick, sharp. He adjusts the block placement, jaw tight. “Are you?”

“No. I was actually about to log off.”

“Oh.” That’s all Katsuki manages before deciding silence is better. He keeps building, placing another row of stairs without looking up. He can feel the guy’s avatar still standing behind him.

“You left me on read on Disc—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, just leave me alone, Todoroki.”

There’s a pause, before the dude starts to talk again. “That’s the first time you say my name.”

“Whatever.”

“Did I offend you again, Bakugou?”

Katsuki exhales hard through his nose. “Look, asshole. You’re the one who calls me cute out of nowhere and then what do you expect?”

“What? I was telling you the truth.” Todoroki’s voice is maddeningly even. “If you’re offended by that, then I apologize. I won’t call you cute anymore.”

“For fuck’s sake, just shut the fuck up already.”

And, to Katsuki’s surprise, he does. The silence that follows feels weirdly heavy. The only sounds are the soft clinks of his pickaxe and the distant moo of a cow somewhere nearby. He finishes placing another block before realizing the bastard is still there. Not moving. Just standing.

Katsuki huffs, finally turning toward him. “What?” Todoroki’s avatar blinks. He doesn’t say a word and Katsuki hates his life. “Have you found that cherry blossom biome yet?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t,” Todoroki answers calmly, like he didn’t just spend the last minute being a pain. “But I managed to find the pale oak garden and brought the saplings back to base.”

Katsuki grits his teeth, staring at him for a few seconds too long. He knows—he knows—he’s going to regret this. “Fine,” he mutters, swinging his sword once to point ahead. “Just follow me.”

Todoroki doesn’t say a word after that, so Katsuki just moves. His boots crunch against the pixelated dirt as the two of them start walking toward the cherry blossom biome he found last night. He didn’t bother recording the coordinates, but his memory’s sharp—he can practically retrace his steps from the trees alone.

The world around them shifts from dark oak to birch, then slowly to lighter grass. A few minutes later, they emerge into the pink haze of the biome. Soft petals drift lazily through the air, the light making the whole place glow warm and ridiculous. Katsuki clicks his tongue. Figures I’d find the prettiest damn spot in the game.

He gets to work slaying cows that spawn nearby, collecting beef and leather for his enchanting setup. Behind him, Todoroki quietly chops at the cherry trees, gathering logs and saplings, occasionally crouching to scoop the fallen petals from the ground.

Katsuki glances over once he finishes looting the last cow, sword still in hand. The half-red, half-white avatar looks weirdly at home among the pink.

“Thanks, Bakugou,” Todoroki says, voice low but sincere.

“Whatever.”

Before he can move on, a new notification pops up—SeroxH has joined the server. Katsuki recognizes the name immediately; that’s the art guy Shitty Hair wouldn’t shut up about.

“Oh, I think Hanta’s about to start his stream,” Todoroki comments.

“Hanta?” Katsuki frowns.

“I mean, Sero.”

Katsuki glares at his monitor. “What’s with you calling everyone by their first name? What, is Hanta a friend too?” Todoroki actually laughs at that, soft and amused, and it just grates on him. “What the fuck are you laughing about, asshole?!”

“Do you want me to call you Katsuki?”

That stops him cold. His hand freezes mid-movement, and for a split second his brain short-circuits. Then his reflexes kick in—he pulls his diamond sword and swings without hesitation.

‘KittenBlock was slain by GroundZero.’

Katsuki grins at the message on screen. “Serves you right, Halfie.”

Not long after, Todoroki respawns right in front of him again.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he says, deadpan.

“Fucking no indeed.”

Before Katsuki can move on, new chat messages pop up—CreatiMomo and JirouGaming have joined. He recognizes both: Jirou’s that singer-streamer with a sharp mouth, and Momo’s her girlfriend. They’d met once at a Twitch event; good people, if a little too social for him.

“What are you working on?” Todoroki asks suddenly.

Katsuki sighs, glancing over. “Uhh, enchanted table. Then gathering resources to power the nuke—but that’s for later. Need to update my shits first.”

“A nuke?”

“Yeah, Dunce Face added the mod. I actually crafted a gun already—you wanna see, Halfie?”

“Sure. As long as you won’t shoot me.”

“No fucking promises here.” He heads to the other side of his house, Todoroki trailing behind. Katsuki opens his chest, grabs the gun, and holds it out. “See? Works like regular tools—you can enchant this shit too. Fucking cool, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Todoroki admits.

Katsuki smirks. “Nah, builder guy like you won’t relate.”

“I don’t know that you think of me that way. I mean, I build a lot for my YouTube videos, but I do other stuff off-camera too.”

“Whatever.”

“Is that how you’re going to reply to me all the time?”

“Just get lost,” Katsuki mutters, turning back to his workbench. “I’m done entertaining you.”

Of course, Todoroki doesn’t move. The bastard just stands there—quiet, patient, annoyingly composed—as Katsuki starts arranging materials on his crafting grid. He’s building the skeleton XP farm now, back in the same cave where they’d spent their first night on the server. The faint rattle of bones echoes from the dark spawner chamber while Katsuki places hoppers and slabs with mechanical precision.

At least Todoroki’s not running his mouth this time. He lingers a few blocks away, occasionally helping by placing torches or adjusting the glass wall to make the farm look “aesthetically balanced” whatever the hell that means. Katsuki doesn’t comment, but he doesn’t tell him to stop either. The guy’s weirdly efficient for someone who supposedly just builds pretty pink houses.

When they finally finish, they take turns slaying skeletons for XP—arrows clattering, bones snapping, green orbs floating toward them like tiny fireflies. By the time Katsuki’s sword is glowing with a fresh enchantment, he notices the same damn avatar still standing there.

“Don’t you have some building to do, Halfie?” Katsuki asks, rolling his shoulders. It’s been almost an hour, and the dude hasn’t left his side once.

“Not really,” Todoroki says, voice even as ever. “I already finished most of my builds. I just need to replace some planks with cherry blossom ones, and I’m done.”

“You really are obsessed with that pink wood.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsessed,” Todoroki replies, calm as if Katsuki hadn’t just insulted his entire aesthetic. “I just think it looks good—and it’s a bit of a challenge to use properly.”

“Fuck off. All your YouTube videos are cherry blossom themed.”

“Oh?” Todoroki tilts his head towards him longer. “So you watched my videos?”

Katsuki almost chokes. “I check everyone’s videos before a stream. I’m prepared like that.” He bites down on the defensive edge in his voice and quickly adds, “Still can’t believe you fucking hate spruce wood.”

“Well,” Todoroki muses, “I don’t hate it. I just think it’s too easy to use. Plus, most of my viewers are female—they usually come to my channel for cherry-blossom-inspired builds. But I have plenty of other worlds. My main Hardcore one actually uses spruce too.”

Katsuki pauses mid-enchant, glancing toward him. “Hardcore?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“I just hit five thousand days last week.”

Katsuki snorts. “Cap. I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” Todoroki says, voice soft but steady. “I can show you the screenshot.”

“Could’ve been scripted. I don’t know.”

“I don’t do scripts, Bakugou,” Todoroki reminds him quietly. “I told you yesterday.”

“Whatever.” Katsuki clicks his enchantment table shut with a loud thud, pretending the little twist in his chest doesn’t mean anything at all.

Katsuki’s about to switch back to his pickaxe when a cheerful voice cuts through the quiet.

“Whoa, hey! Look at what we have here! GroundZero and KittenBlock, how are you guys doing?”

He looks up just in time to see Jirou’s avatar bounce toward them from the edge of the base. There’s already a mic crackle coming from her end—she’s definitely live.

“What are you guys up to?” she continues, voice bright and smooth, the kind that always sounds good on stream. “You two sound like an old married couple arguing, by the way.”

Katsuki’s face heats instantly. “What the fuck?! We’re not—”

“Oh?” Todoroki says calmly, as if this whole thing isn’t killing him inside. “He started it.”

“I did not! You— you annoying bastard!”

“See what I mean?” Jirou’s laughter echoes through the open mic. “Chat, tell me this isn’t peak sitcom energy.”

Katsuki’s chat isn’t even here but somehow he can feel his viewers laughing in spirit. He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re streaming, aren’t you?”

“Obviously.”

“Fucking great.”

By then, another voice joins—Momo’s, calm and amused. “Jirou, don’t tease them too much. They sound flustered.”

“I’m not flustered!” Katsuki blurts out immediately, because of course he does.

“Right,” Jirou says, clearly smiling. “Tell that to your tone, GroundZero.”

Katsuki turns his avatar away from both of them, absolutely done. He starts mining the wall aggressively, blocks breaking in rapid, furious rhythm.

Behind him, Todoroki sounds completely unbothered. “You’re kind of more loud when you’re embarrassed, Bakugou.”

That’s it. He spins on his heel again and shoots Todoroki’s avatar on the head with the bullet of his just freshly enchanted gun. The notification flashes instantly: ‘KittenBlock was shot to death by GroundZero’

Jirou loses it. “Okay, okay, my chats are definitely clipping that,” she wheezes.

Katsuki groans. “You’re all fucking dead to me.”

He logs off right after that, the screen fading to black before anyone can say another word.

💎⛏️

Katsuki knows how fandoms work—he’s been in this streaming industry long enough to witness every brand of chaos it breeds. Scandals, accidental leaks, drama threads, and, of course, the endless shipping culture. Fans love pairing their favorite streamers together, especially in the Minecraft community where even breathing in the same VC can start a rumor.

He used to think he was safe from all that crap. Nobody would bother shipping him with anyone; he rarely does collabs and keeps his streams short and straight to the point. But then came this stupid, massive group server project—and with it, the inevitable disaster.

Now he’s being shipped. With Todoroki.

It’s been a month since the first stream, and their fans won’t shut up about it. At first, he thought it was just his own chaotic followers stirring things up—they’d ship a rock if it looked at him for more than three seconds—but no, even Todoroki’s viewers are in on it. They call them cute together. Some of them even call him cute.

Him. Cute. Bakugou Katsuki and cute don’t even go well together, what the fuck is wrong with those people?

Katsuki groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. He curses like a sailor, his avatar is literally a skull, his entire vibe screams black and rage, not some soft-ass e-boy energy. What the hell is cute about that?

“This is fucking stupid,” he mutters, dragging both hands down his face dramatically before throwing his phone onto the sofa.

“What’s up, Bakubro?” Kirishima asks. They’re all hanging out at Kaminari’s place, prepping for the offline meetup this weekend—the first in-person event for their server. Technically, the four of them are in charge of food, but realistically, it’s Katsuki doing all the real work while the others supervise.

Sero glances over from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Probably another meltdown because of a TodoBaku thread on Twitter.”

Bingo.

“Fuck off!” Katsuki snaps immediately, scowling as the other two burst out laughing.

Kirishima bursts out laughing, nearly spilling the can of soda in his hand. “Bro, that’s just how fandoms work. You get popular, and they start pairing you with anyone you breathe near.”

“That’s bullshit,” Katsuki grumbles.

“C’mon, man. I’ve been shipped too. I remember when people thought me and Midoriya were dating. That was wild. It got so bad it actually made things awkward between us for a while,” Kirishima says, shaking his head like he still can’t believe it. “But we laughed it off eventually. It’s just part of the whole gig.”

Katsuki snorts. “Can’t fucking imagine it, though. You dating that nerd.”

From across the apartment, Kaminari’s voice echoes down the hall. “Kacchan’s so aggressive about Izuku, bro!”

“Shut the fuck up, Dunce Face!” Katsuki yells back.

Sero’s already laughing, wheezing as he leans back on his hands. “Oh, man, you are defensive. The internet’s gonna eat that up if they ever see this.”

Before Katsuki can tell him to choke on a wire, Kaminari reappears from his room with a console box in one hand and a grin on his face. “You know what’s funny, though? If you think about it, most of us are kind of linked with each other somehow.”

Kirishima blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Kaminari starts, dropping down beside Sero. “Like—you and Izuku were friends way before our collab stream. Sero and Todoroki are childhood buddies. And—oh!—Izuku and Todoroki are exes.”

The room goes dead quiet. Katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up. Exes? Like, ex exes? As in—boyfriends?

Kirishima is the first to react, practically choking on his drink. “Holy shit, they both were together??”

“Uh-huh,” Kaminari says like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “They kinda were. It ended a while ago, though. Mutual, I think. No drama. As far as I know, Izuku’s been with Ochako for like, two years now.”

Katsuki leans back on the couch, processing that in silence, jaw ticking slightly.

Of course. Of fucking course.

Sero raises a hand, still chuckling. “Nah, Kami’s right. It was mutual. I’ve known Shouto long enough to confirm that one. It only lasted, what, three months?” he says, looking at Kaminari for confirmation. “Yeah, around that. They realized they weren’t actually romantically into each other—just, y’know, really cared a lot. It was kinda sweet, honestly.”

Katsuki squints. “You’re telling me that IcyHot and the nerd—” he gestures vaguely with his hand, scowling, “—weren’t into each other like that? You’re full of shit. I’ve seen how he looks at him in-game. All soft and doe-eyed like some lovesick fool.”

Sero snorts. “I swear, man. Shouto’s just like that with people he gives a damn about. It’s not romantic, it’s just… him.”

Katsuki mutters under his breath, “Doesn’t look like it. They’re practically glued together.” His tone comes out sharper than intended.

Kirishima laughs, full-bodied and bright. “Bro, who are you kidding? Todoroki’s been sticking around you in the server. I don’t think he’s spent a single session more than ten blocks away from you since week one!”

“Exactly!” Kaminari jumps in, pointing at Katsuki like he just proved a point. “There are tons of clips online where he literally ignores everything going on just to follow you around. Chat even made a compilation called ‘Shouto Being Katsuki’s Shadow’.”

Sero wheezes at that, scrolling through his phone. “No way, I saw that one! The thumbnail’s literally just him standing behind you while you’re building your mob farm.”

Katsuki groans, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. “You guys are so full of shit. He’s just—” he cuts himself off, searching for an excuse that doesn’t sound like denial. “—bored or whatever. That’s all.”

“Sure, man,” Kaminari says with a grin. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Katsuki throws a cushion at him, muttering, “Fucking idiots,” but the faint warmth crawling up the back of his neck betrays him anyway.

Sero’s laughter fades after a few seconds, but his grin stays. He leans back against the couch, phone still in his hand, and looks at Katsuki with something gentler in his expression. “Hey, but real talk though,” he starts, voice steadying a little. “Whatever’s going on between you two—”

“Nothing’s going on,” Katsuki cuts in immediately, but Sero just keeps talking.

“—just don’t mess with Shouto, yeah? He’s a good dude. Little weird sometimes, sure, but he means well. And he doesn’t open up to people that easily, so if he’s sticking around you, it’s probably because he actually likes having you around.”

Katsuki freezes for a second before glaring at him. “The fuck did I just say? There’s nothing going on between us, dammit!”

Sero raises both hands in surrender, trying not to laugh again. “Alright, alright, chill, man. Just saying.”

Kirishima’s already snickering into his drink, and Kaminari, from across the room, adds with a dramatic tone, “Kacchan totally sounds like someone who’s definitely not in denial right now!”

Katsuki doesn’t even hesitate—he flips all of them off with both hands. “Fuck off, all of you! Ain’t shit happening between me and that bastard!”

Sero smirks. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that, GroundZero.”

Katsuki grabs the nearest throw pillow and launches it straight at Kaminari’s face. The idiot yelps dramatically, nearly dropping his console controller.

“So, back to the topic,” Kirishima cuts in quickly, clearly trying to save Kaminari from further casualties. “Are you sure you’re gonna do all the cooking, man?”

Katsuki exhales through his nose, silently thanking him for finally changing the topic away from that stupid “Todoroki and him having something going on” bullshit. “Yeah, are you doubting me, Shitty Hair?”

Kirishima raises his hands, grinning. 

“Bro, no need to worry. Katsuki here’s a beast in the kitchen! Last New Year’s party, he cooked all the meat and it tasted so damn good!” Kaminari, ever the hype man, chimes in from across the room, half buried under the couch pillow. “I’m not even exaggerating, man. Kacchan’s steak was insane. Like, restaurant-level shit!”

Katsuki just lets them talk. If people want to praise his cooking, he’s not gonna stop them.

“I mean, there are sixteen of us though,” Sero points out, leaning back in his chair and spinning an empty soda can between his fingers.

“I’ll need someone to help with the beef, but the rest of the food’s prepped beforehand anyway,” Katsuki replies, checking the list on his phone. “Some stuff’s already bought, so I can handle it. Just make sure you extras know how to take orders and not burn the damn meat.”

Kirishima salutes with a grin. “Aye aye, Captain Bakugou! I volunteer as tribute!”

“Idiot,” Katsuki mutters, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

They’re planning to hold the party-slash-offline gathering at Momo’s place—because of course the rich girl owns a literal mansion. It’s conveniently located near half of the group, and apparently her backyard could fit an entire summer festival. Katsuki doesn’t mind taking charge of the cooking duties; he likes food done right, and he sure as hell isn’t letting Kaminari anywhere near the grill.

Tomorrow, there’s another collab stream scheduled, but he won’t be joining. While everyone’s streaming their decoration chaos for the fans, Katsuki will be prepping side dishes for the actual party that’ll happen later that afternoon. It’s a big deal—one month since the UA Server launched, and they’ve gained an almost ridiculous amount of followers. Fans are obsessed with their dynamic, to the point of calling them “The UA Server.” Katsuki refuses to ask how they came up with that name.

When the party starts though, everyone’s supposed to have their streams off. Privacy reasons, sure—but mainly because a few of them are still no-face streamers. Like Todoroki, for example.

Even after a month of playing together nearly every day, Katsuki still doesn’t know what the bastard looks like. Todoroki uploads once a month, streams maybe twice, and it’s always just his voice—calm, monotone, talking about his latest Minecraft builds like it’s a damn TED talk. Their recent collabs had his voice in half of them, which only made fans more rabid.

He could ask Sero for a picture, since the guy’s known him since childhood or whatever, but hell no. He’s not that curious.

He tells himself that every time.

Then—ding.

Katsuki’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. A Discord notification lights up the screen.

Todoroki just sent him a picture: a bamboo tray with soba noodles on top, the one that looks like enjoyed while cold with a simple sauce to dip. 

Katsuki squints at it.

GroundZero: ????

KittenBlock: i like soba. i hope u make them for tomorrow

GroundZero: who the fuck prepares soba for a party?! i aint cooking shit

KittenBlock: oh okay

Katsuki clicks his tongue and shoves Kaminari’s shoulder. “You. Go buy some buckwheat noodles.”

Kaminari blinks, clearly confused. “What?”

“You heard me. Two packs.”

Kirishima glances up from his phone, trying not to laugh. “Bakubro, what are you making?”

“Nothing.”

From the far side of the room, Sero lets out a low whistle. “Ohhh, sounds like we’re having soba tomorrow, right, GroundZero?”

Katsuki grabs the nearest cushion again. Of course Sero knows he’s making soba because of Todoroki. “Fucking shut up!”

💎⛏️

Momo’s place is ridiculous. That’s the first thought that crosses Katsuki’s mind the second he steps into the estate at six in the damn morning. It’s not just a house—it’s a mansion straight out of some lifestyle magazine. The ceilings are stupidly high, every surface either polished marble or shining glass, and there’s even a fountain inside the foyer. He mutters something about “rich people and their unnecessary crap” under his breath as one of Momo’s house staff politely shows him to the kitchen.

At least the kitchen is a dream. It’s massive, spotless, and fully stocked with every cooking utensil imaginable. Even the knives gleam like they’ve been sharpened by angels. Katsuki sets down his bags of groceries and rolls up his sleeves.

He’s not alone for long. Momo’s maids—no, chefs, apparently—move around like they’re in a five-star restaurant. They’re precise, efficient, quiet. He respects that. It means he doesn’t have to babysit anyone, just oversee the prep and make sure everything tastes perfect.

By ten, the scent of frying oil fills the air. The potatoes are golden, the chicken crisping beautifully. Every few minutes, one of the maids checks on the oven while Katsuki handles the seasoning himself—because hell if he’ll let anyone else touch his spice ratios.

Jirou pokes her head into the kitchen around that hour, holding a bamboo steamer. “Need the stove for a sec, Bakugou,” she says, tone teasing.

He doesn’t even glance up. “Touch the left one. You touch my fryer, I’ll kill you.”

She just laughs, because of course she does, and Katsuki swears under his breath as she hums her way through whatever snack she’s steaming.

By eleven, chaos begins to move in from the front yard. Voices, laughter, and the sound of camera crews dragging tripods echo faintly through the halls. The decorators have arrived—aka the streamers for today. Katsuki grits his teeth and mutters a quiet prayer to any deity listening that none of them step foot in his kitchen.

He checks the counter again; the fried stuff’s done, neatly covered and cooling. The meat’s been marinated to perfection and stored in the fridge—ready to be grilled later after the sun sets when the real party starts. Now, he just has the vegetables and rice left to prep. Simple enough.

Then there’s the soba.

Katsuki glares at the buckwheat noodles sitting in the corner. He doesn’t even know why he’s bothering, except he does—and that’s exactly what pisses him off.

“Fucking Halfie,” he mutters as he reaches for a pot.

He’s not making a full tray of soba. Hell no. Just two servings. That’s it. Enough for the annoying bastard who apparently thinks soba belongs at a party. Katsuki remembers Todoroki mentioning once—during one of their late-night mining sessions—that he could eat four servings of chicken in a sitting. The guy eats like a damn vacuum.

So yeah, two portions should do it.

He throws the noodles into boiling water, the scent of buckwheat and soy sauce soon mixing with fried chicken and garlic in the air. The kitchen feels warm and alive, filled with the quiet clatter of pans and the faint hum of the maids cleaning up.

Katsuki moves with practiced ease, muttering under his breath as he works. If anyone barges in right now, he’s throwing a ladle at them.

The kitchen door swings open without warning, and Katsuki nearly drops the ladle he’s holding.

“Guys! Look who’s slaving away in the kitchen!”

Ochako’s voice, loud and grating, echoes off the tiled walls before he even appears on camera. A second later, she bursts in with Mina right behind her, both wearing matching grins—and the telltale little lapel mics clipped to their shirts. Even Dunce Face is with them two, Katsuki glares at him because he’s supposed to make sure the snacks are already on the table. 

“Oh hell no,” Katsuki mutters, recognizing the faint red light on the camera mounted on the cameraman’s shoulder.

“Chat! Chat! You guys won’t believe this!” Mina announces, pointing the camera directly at Katsuki, who’s now scowling like he’s about to throw a frying pan. “GroundZero himself—yeah, the GroundZero—is in charge of the food for today’s offline meet-up!”

“Yeah, man,” Kaminari chimes in, grinning. “Look at this pro setup—fried chicken, potatoes, all the stuff prepped like it’s for a damn festival. Bro, this looks amazing!”

“Get outta my kitchen,” Katsuki snaps immediately, snatching a towel from the counter and waving it at them like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want any cameras in here!”

The live chat explodes across the tablet screen Mina’s holding. Kaminari, of course, leans in close to read.

“‘He’s actually cooking??’—‘Wait, GroundZero can cook??’—‘Bro looks like a pro chef!’” Kaminari reads dramatically, laughter bubbling in his voice.

“Fuckin’ right I can cook,” Katsuki mutters, turning his back to them as he tosses the soba noodles into a strainer.

Mina chuckles. “You heard it here first, folks. Guy can cook and complain at the same time—”

“Shut up,” Katsuki cuts in, spinning around to glare at them. “And shut that damn camera off, you’re in my way.”

Kaminari, obviously thrilled by the reaction, zooms in on the counter. “Whoa, chat, look at all this—wait… is that… soba?”

Katsuki freezes.

Mina leans over the counter, squinting. “Huh. Yeah, you’re right. Soba noodles. I didn’t see that on the dish list Kiri sent us…”

Kaminari’s grin widens. “Ohhh, interesting. Who’s the soba for, huh? Someone special?”

The chat is going wild now.

‘Isn’t soba like… Todoroki’s favorite?’
‘Wait wait wait—Todoroki’s not even here yet right??’
‘OH NO WAY.’

Katsuki slams the towel onto the counter so hard that everyone flinches. “You guys got nothing better to do than read dumb comments? Go somewhere else! Do something useful instead of crowding my damn workspace!”

“Whoa, chill, man!” Kaminari laughs, backing away with his hands raised. “We’re just showing chat the magic! We’ll go!”

“Yeah yeah, we’re leaving!” Ochako adds, snickering as she retreats with the camera still rolling. “But chat, you saw the soba, right? Remember that later—”

“ROUND FACE, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

The feed cuts off mid-yell, followed by the sound of Kaminari’s and the girls’ laughter echoing down the hallway. Katsuki exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. The kitchen falls quiet again except for the faint bubbling of the stock pot.

“Fucking idiots,” he mutters. “It’s just soba. Not like it means anything.” But even as he goes back to chopping green onions, there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he’s trying a little too hard to believe his own words.

He’s halfway through cutting the green onions when his phone buzzes on the counter. Once. Twice. Then a Discord ping. Katsuki sighs, setting down the knife before pulling off the plastic gloves with a snap. His hands still smell faintly of soy and sesame oil when he reaches for his phone.

KittenBlock.

Of course.

“What the hell now?” he mutters, thumbing the screen open—expecting another question, maybe something dumb like “do you have chopsticks?” or “don’t forget the dipping sauce”.

Instead, the message is short.

KittenBlock: thank you for making soba for me bakugou 🙂

For some stupid reason, Katsuki’s brain short-circuits for half a second. His grip tightens on the phone, and the corners of his mouth twitch before he forces them flat again.

“…the hell’s with the emoji,” he grumbles under his breath, glaring at the little smiling face like it was sent to mock his life choices.

He types fast, his thumbs moving out of reflex.

GroundZero: whatever

He stares at the screen. Watches as the three little dots appear—Todoroki typing—and then vanish. Katsuki waits. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Still nothing.

“Figures,” he mutters, tossing the phone aside a little too roughly. It lands on the far end of the counter with a dull thud.

He exhales hard through his nose and goes back to the soba. Drains it. Rinses it again under cold water. The noodles glisten, pale and neat, like nothing ever happened. He places them carefully into two bowls and wraps them tight with plastic before sliding them into the fridge.

The whole time, he keeps telling himself it’s just food. It’s just soba.

Two hours later, Katsuki gets another Discord ping—this time from the server. When he opens the server, it’s from Dunce Face.

@everyone decoration’s done!! the party’s starting in an hour. camera’s off now, so faceless streamers are safe to come :D @FroggyCam @EnginePrimeSpeedRun @EclipseWing @KittenBlock

Katsuki exhales through his nose and locks his phone. “’Bout time,” he mutters, shoving it back into his apron pocket.

Outside, the sky’s beginning to shift. The sun hangs low, turning Momo’s mansion courtyard into something golden and soft, long shadows stretching across the patio. The air smells faintly of grilled smoke and sweet soy—warm, earthy, familiar.

Kirishima’s already outside, sleeves rolled up, setting up the grill. “Yo, Bakugou! Coals are ready!” he calls, waving his tongs in the air.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Katsuki replies, hauling out the trays of marinated meat from the fridge. The kitchen’s cooler now, quiet except for the faint chatter coming from the garden.

He starts with the thickest cuts first—prime rib slabs marinated overnight, rich and glistening under the soft light. He places them on the grill carefully, the sizzle immediate and satisfying. Smoke curls upward, carrying the scent of garlic, soy, and fire.

“Smells damn good already,” Kirishima says, peeking over his shoulder.

“Don’t hover,” Katsuki snaps, flipping the meat. But there’s no real bite to it; he’s focused. Measured. It’s the kind of task that keeps his hands busy and his mind too full to think about anything else.

Except—

His stomach feels weird. Not sick, not full. Just… tight. Because in less than an hour, Todoroki’s gonna walk through that gate.

He tries to ignore the thought, focusing instead on adjusting the grill temperature and brushing sauce over the beef. More people start trickling in—familiar voices calling out greetings, laughter echoing across the backyard. Someone brings out drinks, someone else starts the music. The atmosphere grows louder, warmer, full of life.

Katsuki keeps his head down, flipping, checking, seasoning, pretending not to notice how his pulse ticks faster each time someone new arrives.

“Damn, everyone’s showing up,” Kirishima says, handing him another tray.

“Yeah, no shit,” Katsuki mutters, staring at the gate for a second too long before forcing his eyes back on the grill.

He tells himself it’s just curiosity. Nothing else. Just wondering when that halfie bastard’s gonna show up. That’s all.

The sky has turned dusky purple by the time the clock hits six. The string lights Momo’s staff hung around the courtyard flicker on—warm gold beads of light stretching over the tables, the pool, the grill. Someone’s hooked up a playlist, a low hum of bass and laughter threading through the air.

The smell of roasted meat lingers heavy now; smoky, savory, and rich. Katsuki’s been flipping steaks and chicken for almost an hour straight. His forearms ache a little, sweat sticking to the back of his neck, but the rhythm of it—grill, flip, brush, plate—is almost meditative. Keeps his brain quiet. Keeps him from thinking too much.

“Oi, Bakubro, you good?” Kirishima asks, tossing him a towel.

“Fine,” he grunts, wiping his hands, eyes flicking up just long enough to scan the crowd.

He’s trying not to look like he’s waiting for anyone, but he is. He absolutely fucking is.

Every time someone new comes through the gate, he glances up, quick and careless, pretending it’s just habit. His chest does this stupid little jump—only to drop when it’s not the person he’s expecting. He tells himself it’s curiosity. He’s never seen Todoroki in person. It’s just… curiosity. That’s all.

Kaminari’s voice cuts through the crowd. “Yo, the last group just got here!”

Katsuki doesn’t look right away. He’s focused on brushing sauce over the ribs when the energy around the place shifts—an almost subtle dip in the chatter, like the collective noise of the group has turned into murmurs.

He hears Sero’s voice, somewhere near the entrance. “Shouto! Finally, man, thought you’d ghost!”

And Katsuki still doesn’t turn, not immediately. He doesn’t need to. His body reacts before his head catches up—shoulders stiffening, fingers pausing mid-swipe across the ribs.

Then he hears it. That familiar, calm voice. “I almost did. The traffic was bad.”

He looks up.

And holy fucking shit.

Todoroki Shouto in real life is nothing like Katsuki had imagined.

He’s dressed simple—soft blue oversized sweater, light wash jeans, sneakers—but somehow it looks expensive. Clean lines, soft fabric, the kind of casual that screams effort even when it shouldn’t. His hair is exactly like his avatar’s coloring, split perfectly down the middle—half white, half dark red—and it shouldn’t work in real life, but it does. It really, really does.

The light from the setting sun catches the white strands, almost glowing gold, and the rest frames his face just right. Katsuki notices his skin first—smooth, pale—and then his eyes. One gray, one turquoise. They’re bright even in the fading light, sharper in person, but not cold.

Katsuki spots the scar around Todoroki’s left eye—something his blocky little Minecraft skin sure as hell doesn’t show. But that doesn’t take away from the bastard’s looks. If anything, it adds to it. Because of course he has to look like that. Like some kind of stupidly perfect dream guy. It’s honestly unfair. Too good-looking for his own good, and it’s almost a sin not to stare.

Katsuki concludes one thing. No camera filter could’ve done that justice. Because for a second, Katsuki genuinely forgets how to breathe.

Todoroki looks around, eyes scanning the crowd until they land on him. And the faintest smile touches his lips—small, restrained, but there. It’s the exact kind of quiet smile that drives Katsuki insane in-game, because he can always hear it in his tone even without seeing his face.

Now he sees it.

“Hey,” Todoroki says, walking closer, hands tucked in his pockets like he’s got all the time in the world. “You made it smell really good here.”

Katsuki’s brain short-circuits. He looks away, clears his throat, mutters, “Of course it smells good, I’m the one cooking.”

“Mm. I can tell.” Todoroki’s voice is light, amused, and damn it, the way he looks at Katsuki—like he’s been seeing him this whole time even without a face—makes his stomach twist.

Kirishima elbows Katsuki with a grin. “So this is KittenBlock, huh? Dude, you look way cooler than I imagined!”

Todoroki nods politely. “Thanks. You must be RedRiotCraft, Kirishima, right.”

“Yep! And the guy glaring at the grill is our famous GroundZero,” Kirishima teases.

“I know,” Todoroki says simply, turning back to Katsuki. “He’s hard to miss.”

Katsuki scoffs, face hot. “You’re late, IcyHot. So don’t make a scene.”

“Better late than never,” Todoroki replies, tone easy, gaze steady.

Katsuki turns back to the grill before his expression betrays him, grabbing the tongs with a little bit of unnecessary force. “Grab a plate or something. Don’t just stand there.”

“Alright.” Todoroki steps beside him instead, close enough that Katsuki can smell his cologne—something clean, faintly woody. Subtle but sharp.

It’s fucking distracting. Katsuki focuses on the flames, jaw tight. “You don’t cook, right?”

“No,” Todoroki says. “But I can help.”

“Help by staying out of my way.”

“Got it.”

The grill crackles outside, laughter rolling in waves across the backyard, but Katsuki barely hears any of it.

“Kirishima,” he says, snapping the tongs once to get his attention. “Handle the meat for a bit, yeah? Don’t burn it, or I’ll end your life.”

Kirishima blinks, startled mid-chew. “Uh—yeah, bro! Sure thing!”

Katsuki just mutters a curse under his breath, wipes his hands on a towel, and glances across the yard. His gaze catches Todoroki’s for half a second—across the firelight, calm as always, stupidly unbothered—and Katsuki jerks his chin toward the mansion. No words. Just that.

And Todoroki follows. Of course he fucking does.

The kitchen feels different after being outside—it’s quieter, colder. The lights cast everything in gold, and the hum of the fridge fills the silence between them. Katsuki walks straight to the counter, checking the prep list one last time, trying to look busy.

“You didn’t have to,” Todoroki says from behind him, his voice calm, unhurried.

Katsuki doesn’t look back. He opens the fridge instead, feeling the rush of cold air brush his face. “Didn’t have to what?”

“The soba,” Todoroki answers simply.

Katsuki’s hand pauses on the bowl. His brain blanks for half a second before he pulls it out and shuts the fridge door with his hip. “You did see that from the stream, right?”

“I did,” Todoroki admits, still somewhere behind him. “You even sent Kaminari to buy buckwheat noodles.”

“Tch. Dunce Face talks too much,” Katsuki mutters, setting the bowl down on the counter. He’s aware—painfully aware—that Todoroki is standing close enough now that he can feel the warmth of him even through the thin air-conditioned chill.

Katsuki focuses on peeling the plastic wrap off the soba like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. His pulse is pounding in his throat.

“Smells good,” Todoroki says quietly.

“Obviously,” Katsuki fires back, grabbing chopsticks. “I don’t make crap food.”

When he finally turns around, he almost drops the damn bowl.

Todoroki hasn’t moved. Still standing there—too close, too tall, framed in the soft kitchen light that hits his hair just right. The red and white contrast shouldn’t work, but somehow it does; it looks ridiculous and stupidly good at the same time.

And his eyes—Katsuki has seen them from earlier of course, that gray and that pretty blue hue —but upclose, they’re something else. There’s warmth there, and light. And that scar—real, soft along the edge of his left eye—it shouldn’t fit, but it does. It makes him look more… real.

More human.

Katsuki swallows hard. “You could’ve just said thanks through Discord or whatever,” he mutters, pushing the bowl into Todoroki’s hands. “Didn’t need to hunt me down for this.”

“I wanted to thank you properly,” Todoroki says, tone steady but low. He doesn’t step back. “It’s better this way.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbles, looking anywhere but his face.

Todoroki glances down at the soba, then back up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You really did make it.”

Katsuki huffs. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Halfie.”

“I won’t,” Todoroki says, soft enough that it almost sounds like a promise. “But… thank you, Bakugou.”

The way he says his name—it’s too gentle, too deliberate—and Katsuki hates how it makes his chest tighten. He exhales sharply, stepping aside like the air’s suddenly too thick. “Just eat it before it gets warm,” he mutters, pretending to look for something else to do.

And for a split second, when their fingers brush as Todoroki takes the bowl, Katsuki swears the world tilts.

Todoroki grabs a pair of chopsticks from the counter as composed as if none of this fazed him. Katsuki pretends not to stare, but his eyes betray him—tracking the way Todoroki twists the noodles once, blows on them lightly, and takes a small bite. For a few seconds, it’s silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. Then he exhales, slow.

“…It’s really good,” he says simply.

Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Obviously.”

Todoroki hums in agreement, still chewing, his expression unreadable except for the faint curve of his lips. “Better than the one I usually order.”

Katsuki scowls, gripping the edge of the counter to ground himself. “No shit. I told you I don’t mess around when it comes to food.”

“I believe you,” Todoroki says, and when he turns his head just slightly—just enough for their eyes to meet—Katsuki feels his whole face heat up. The bastard is smiling now. Not that tiny polite thing he usually does on stream, but something real—soft at the corners, and it’s like all the air in the room disappears. The kind of smile that makes Katsuki’s stomach twist up into knots.

He quickly looks away, busying himself with pretending to wipe nonexistent crumbs off the counter. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mutters.

“Like what?” Todoroki asks, voice dipping lower, that hint of amusement curling around the edges.

Katsuki glares at him—big mistake. Todoroki’s still watching him with that same infuriatingly gentle expression, scar catching the light, and it’s so unfair how good he looks up close. Katsuki can feel his pulse drumming loud in his ears.

“Like that,” he snaps. “You look like you’re about to laugh.”

“I’m not,” Todoroki says, but he is—just barely, the corner of his mouth twitching, eyes soft with something that makes Katsuki’s chest ache.

And then, because the universe hates him, Todoroki steps just a little closer. They’re both leaning against the counter now, shoulders brushing. Katsuki freezes when their arms touch—barely there, just fabric against fabric—but it’s enough to send a jolt up his spine.

His hand shifts, trying to move away, but instead the side of his fingers graze Todoroki’s. Warm. Steady. Real.

“Careful,” Todoroki murmurs.

Katsuki’s brain short-circuits. “I—shut up.”

Todoroki’s smirk softens again, and that’s somehow worse. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not—!” Katsuki cuts himself off, stepping back a little too quickly, trying to catch his breath. “Just finish your damn soba before I throw it out the window.”

Todoroki chuckles quietly, looking down at the bowl again, but there’s that glint in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to him.

Katsuki curses under his breath, turning away, hands gripping the towel way harder than he initially intended. He hates it—the heat crawling up his neck, the wild rhythm in his chest—but at the same time, it feels stupidly, dangerously good. So he knows better to escape from the scene as he also has a job to finish there before Shitty Hair turns everything into ashes. 

By the time Katsuki makes it back to the grill, his face still feels like it’s on fire. He’s grateful for the heat from the coals—at least now he’s got an excuse for why his cheeks are red. Unfortunately, Kaminari doesn’t let things slide.

“Bro,” Kaminari says, blinking at him like he’s just witnessed a crime. “Why’s your face so red? You’re glowing like the glowstone, man.”

“Shut it.” Katsuki takes over the grill, each flip of the beef sharp and deliberate, like he’s daring it to burn.

“Wait—wait, hold up,” Jirou pipes up from behind the cooler, smirking. “Did something happen in there? You were gone kinda long, dude.”

Kirishima’s grin is too wide to be innocent. “Yeah, Bakugou, where’s Todoroki? You two disappear together, huh?”

That’s when everyone starts catching on. The teasing spreads faster than fire—someone laughs, another whistles, and Katsuki’s patience shatters.

“If any of you assholes don’t shut the hell up right now, I’m done cooking!” he yells, loud enough that the entire yard quiets. Even the night air seems to pause.

A beat of silence—and then Kirishima salutes dramatically. “Aye aye, chef!”

Katsuki groans, muttering curses under his breath as he turns back to the grill. The smell of sizzling meat fills the air, the sky now dark enough for fairy lights to glow above the tables. He focuses on the rhythm of cooking—flip, baste, slice, serve—anything to stop thinking about how close Todoroki had been, how warm his hand felt.

About ten minutes later, the quiet chatter around the pool area changes tone—more excited, more pointed. Katsuki doesn’t have to look up to know why.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Todoroki walking back toward the grill, the faint golden light catching on his hair—white and red gleaming under the night sky. He’s holding a small plate calmly like he didn’t just almost cause Katsuki to have a damn heart attack twenty minutes ago.

He stops beside him, eyes flicking to the sizzling meat. “Smells good,” he says simply, picking a piece off the tray with chopsticks. He bites into it, hums quietly. “Very good.”

Katsuki scoffs, keeping his eyes on the grill. “You keep saying the same shit, IcyHot.”

Todoroki doesn’t respond right away. Katsuki can feel him there—close, quiet, unbothered by the way people’s gazes are definitely darting toward them again. Then there’s a shift of movement, and suddenly something warm touches Katsuki’s lips.

He freezes. Looks up.

It’s Todoroki, holding out another piece of grilled beef with the chopsticks, his face maddeningly neutral but his eyes… too steady, too knowing. “You can keep grilling while enjoying the food,” he offers.

Katsuki stares at him, the heat from the grill and his face mixing into one unbearable mess. “What the hell are you—”

But Todoroki just raises an eyebrow, patient, still holding the chopsticks there. Katsuki glares at him for another second before giving up and leaning forward to take the bite. He chews—angrily.

The beef is perfect. Of course it is.

Todoroki hums again, satisfied.

Somewhere behind them, someone whistles—long and sharp. “OHHH SHIT, CHEF’S GETTING FED!”

Katsuki’s shoulders stiffen instantly. He can hear laughter, Sero’s amused snort, Kaminari cackling, someone clapping. He wants the ground to swallow him whole—or  the world to explode everything within a ten-meter radius, whichever comes first.

Todoroki doesn’t even flinch. “It’s good, right?”

Katsuki swallows, trying to act like his entire body isn’t about to combust. “Of fucking course it is. I’m the one cooking it.”

Todoroki’s lips twitch again—tiny, almost invisible—but Katsuki catches it. That small, smug, soft smile that has no right to look that good on his face.

And for the second time that night, Katsuki’s stomach flips so hard he nearly drops the tongs.

The party starts to shift once the prime beef hits the grill. The smell alone pulls everyone closer—rich, smoky, perfectly charred edges that glisten under the string lights. Katsuki focuses on cutting the smaller batches, showing Kirishima how to slice across the grain, explaining it like a professional despite half the group still whispering about the “feeding” incident.

“Like this,” he says, steady and sharp, pressing the knife down through the juicy strip. “Angle it so the meat stays tender. Don’t fuckin’ shred it like an animal.”

Kirishima nods seriously, copying him. “Got it, chef.”

“Good. You handle the next one. I’m gonna go wash up—been standing here since dawn.” Katsuki wipes his hands on a towel, feeling the layer of grease and smoke clinging to his skin. It’s driving him insane. He’s been sweating all day, and the air’s getting heavier with the music turning up—Jirou’s already behind the DJ setup, bass pulsing through the yard.

Before he steps away, he glances toward Todoroki—sitting by the pool now, quiet as ever, a drink in hand, the light catching on his scar in a way that shouldn’t look that good. Katsuki swallows down the thought and mutters as he passes by, low enough that only Todoroki can hear, “I’ll be back.”

Todoroki glances up, nods once. “Okay.”

And that’s all it takes for Katsuki’s stomach to do that annoying flip again.

He leaves before he can embarrass himself further, heading back inside. The noise fades behind him, replaced by the low hum of the air conditioning and the faint echo of the bass through the hallways. Momo’s mansion is quiet in this part of the house, almost too quiet.

The guestroom is massive—way too fancy for a “guestroom”. Katsuki exhales, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances toward the bathroom. He can already imagine how good it’ll feel to finally scrub off all the smoke and sweat.

Still, he hesitates about something. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and his thumb hovers over the lock screen. He bites his lip, thinking. Overthinking. Then mutters under his breath, “...Fuck it.”

He unlocks his phone and types a quick message—short, almost careless, but he knows exactly what he’s doing.

GroundZero: guestroom’s on the second floor, left wing, door beside the balcony.

He stares at it for a moment before tossing the phone onto the bed. “I’m not doing anything,” he tells himself out loud, even though the silence doesn’t argue back.

The bathroom is huge, steam curling around the edges of the glass. Katsuki steps under the spray, groaning quietly as the hot water hits his shoulders, washing away the day’s exhaustion. He scrubs at his hair, lathers the shampoo, and for the first time all day, lets himself just breathe.

When he’s done, he finds a hairdryer neatly placed beside a folded towel—because of course Momo would have everything prepped like a damn hotel. He dries his hair quickly, the soft hum of the dryer blending with the faint bass still echoing from outside.

Then, just as he’s brushing the damp strands off his forehead, he hears it.

Click.

The sound of the door opening.

Katsuki freezes. The hairdryer’s hum stops. His pulse jumps.

He doesn’t move—just stares at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, listening to the faint creak of the floorboards outside. Someone’s steps. Slow. Careful. Familiar.

His throat goes dry.

He knows exactly who it is.

He bites his lower lip hard, his chest tightening with the realization. He’s the one who sent the message. He’s the one who told him the room.

Now he’s the idiot standing half-tensed in someone else’s house guestroom, realizing that he basically just sent Todoroki a fucking invitation. And the worst part? He doesn’t know if he regrets it.

Katsuki steps out of the bathroom, towel slung around his neck and steam curling behind him. His hair’s still a little damp, a little messier than usual, and his black shirt clings to his shoulders from the lingering heat. The air feels cooler here, but it doesn’t help much when his heart practically skips a beat at the sight in front of him.

Todoroki’s sitting on the edge of the bed—relaxed, composed, legs slightly apart, elbows resting on his knees. He looks up when Katsuki enters, eyes catching the low lamplight like two different shades of calm fire. “Hey,” he says softly.

Katsuki clears his throat, tossing the towel aside. “Hey.” His voice comes out rougher than intended, like it’s caught between nerves and stubbornness.

The silence stretches, thick and oddly comfortable. Katsuki busies himself with his hair, pretending he doesn’t notice Todoroki’s gaze following every small movement. But he can feel it—the weight of it, steady and warm, like the burn of sunlight through a windowpane.

“You—you just got here?” he mutters, reaching for his phone on the nightstand just for something to do with his hands.

“Yeah,” Todoroki says, Katsuki feels how those eyes are following him. “You weren’t answering when I called.”

Katsuki scoffs, still not looking up. “Was in the shower, dumbass.”

“I know.”

When he finally turns to face him, Todoroki’s still watching, expression unreadable yet gentle. Katsuki opens his mouth to say something—anything—but before he can, Todoroki lifts a hand and gestures for him to come closer.

“What?” Katsuki asks, voice defensive out of habit.

“Come here,” Todoroki repeats, quiet but certain.

And somehow, Katsuki listens. His legs move before his brain catches up, until he’s standing right in front of him. Todoroki looks up at him from that angle, and Katsuki suddenly realizes how close they are—close enough to count the faint freckles near Todoroki’s collarbone, close enough to smell the soft trace of cologne and smoke on his skin.

Then, just like that, Todoroki reaches out—fingers wrapping around Katsuki’s wrist and tugs him gently, guiding him down until Katsuki ends up sitting across his lap. Katsuki freezes, palms instinctively landing on Todoroki’s shoulders, heat flaring across his face like wildfire.

“The hell are you—”

“—Just stay,” Todoroki murmurs.

His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it cuts through every ounce of Katsuki’s defense. Katsuki’s pulse stutters when Todoroki’s hands settle at his waist, steady and warm, not demanding, just there. His eyes flicker up, meeting Todoroki’s—and it hits him again how damn pretty they are in person. Still can’t believe this man is real because holy shit he might put half of the model on the fashion magazines to shame with his face alone. 

“Please don’t get mad,” Todoroki says quietly. “But you look even cuter in person.”

Katsuki’s breath catches. His throat goes dry, and for a second he forgets how to breathe. “You’re such a damn idiot,” he mutters, but it sounds weak—soft, even.

Todoroki smiles, not the smug smirk from streams but a real one; small, sincere, and devastatingly charming. The kind of smile that does something weird to Katsuki’s stomach.

The air between them shifts; slower, heavier. Katsuki can feel the warmth radiating from Todoroki’s chest, the rhythm of his breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside fading into nothing. And then Todoroki leans in just a little closer—close enough for Katsuki to feel his breath ghosting over his cheek. “You’re so pretty, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest. Todoroki just called him by his first name—and said he’s pretty, of all things. He has no idea how to respond to that; his face probably looks ridiculous right now, and definitely redder than it already was.

“Can I kiss you?” Todoroki asks, voice almost a whisper.

Katsuki’s eyes widened. For a heartbeat, he just stares, torn between wanting to throw a punch or drag him even closer. His heart’s beating so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape his chest. He swallows, and the only word that manages to come out is, “Yeah.”

The moment the word leaves Katsuki’s mouth, something shifts, subtle, like the world takes a quiet breath with them. Todoroki doesn’t move right away; he studies Katsuki’s face first, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips, and back again, as if giving him time to change his mind.

Katsuki doesn’t.

He stays right there; perched on Todoroki’s lap, hands still on his shoulders, feeling every heartbeat hammering between them. His palms are warm against the fabric of Todoroki’s sweater, his pulse loud in his ears. He hates how his hands tremble, just a little.

And then Todoroki moves.

It’s slow—so painfully slow—the kind of movement that makes every second stretch. His forehead brushes against Katsuki’s first, a quiet, almost hesitant touch that steals the air from his lungs. Katsuki exhales softly, eyes half-lidded, his breath catching somewhere between disbelief and want.

When their lips finally meet, it’s gentle and warm and deliberate, the kind of kiss that feels like a question and an answer at the same time. There’s no rush, no harshness; just the quiet thud of their hearts, the faint sound of the rain starting outside, and the soft sigh that slips out of Katsuki before he can stop it.

Todoroki’s hand slides up his back, resting between his shoulder blades, grounding him, steadying him. The other stays at his waist, thumb brushing tiny circles against his shirt. It’s infuriatingly tender, and Katsuki hates how much he melts into it.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, eyes still half-open. Todoroki’s looking at him like he’s something fragile, precious even, and Katsuki wants to yell at him for it—because no one’s supposed to look at him like that.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he mutters, voice low and rough, “You’re unreal, you know that?”

Todoroki’s lips quirk up just slightly. “You make that sound like it’s a problem.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, trying to find his usual sharpness but failing miserably. “It is when you make it hard to think, idiot.”

Todoroki chuckles, quiet, soft, the kind of sound that sinks under Katsuki’s skin. “Then don’t think, Katsuki.” He murmurs, and leans in again.

The second kiss is deeper—still soft, still careful, but with a weight behind it. It feels like something new is being written in the space between them—something neither of them can take back.

Todoroki shifts closer, his hand sliding to the back of Katsuki’s bare neck, fingers threading into the short strands of his hair. The touch sends a shiver down Katsuki’s spine just before their mouths meet again, slower this time but with a kind of hunger hiding beneath it. When Todoroki parts his lips, Katsuki follows without thinking, breath catching as their tongues brush—barely, but enough to make his pulse stumble.

The kiss deepens, the air between them turning warmer, heavier. Todoroki tastes like something clean and faintly sweet, and Katsuki hates how much he wants more. He can feel Todoroki’s breath mix with his, the faint press of his chest against his own. Every movement feels deliberate—gentle but claiming, the kind of touch that says I want you, but only if you want me too. 

By the time they part again, Katsuki’s breathing unevenly, heart is racing, his lips tingling and the only thought left in his head is how badly he wants to do it again. Todoroki’s thumb is still tracing slow patterns at his waist while his other hand is still on the back of his head rubbing his hair slowly. For a long moment, neither says anything. The world outside is distant; just faint music, laughter, the low hum of a night still alive.

Finally, Todoroki speaks, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first week we played together.”

Katsuki stares at him—wide-eyed, flushed to the tips of his ears. “You’re insane,” he mutters. “We were literally I don't know busy breeding a hundred of cats for your whole channel aesthetic?”

Todoroki smiles again, small and unshakable. “Doesn’t change anything.”

Katsuki groans, burying his face in his hands, though a quiet laugh escapes him anyway—breathless, shaky, but real.

“I like you, Katsuki.” Todoroki suddenly confesses, voice calm but sure. “In case it’s not obvious enough, Hanta told me that I need to be more direct with things, so I want to make sure you don’t think this is just some trick to get into your pants.”

“Are you not?” Katsuki raises an eyebrow, his tone dry, though his pulse stutters.

Todoroki smiles, leaning closer to press another kiss to Katsuki’s lips—quick, soft, and maddeningly deliberate. “Well, can’t lie,” he murmurs against Katsuki’s mouth, “I was quite surprised when I read your invitation earlier.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki glares at him, half-heartedly, because it’s hard to glare when his chest feels like it’s about to explode. “I don’t do one-night stands, you hear me? I don’t—I don’t do casual shit.”

There’s a flicker in Todoroki’s expression—surprise first, then warmth that settles deep in his eyes. The corner of his mouth curves up, slow and knowing. Before Katsuki can even blink, Todoroki leans in, so close his breath brushes the shell of Katsuki’s ear.

“I wasn’t planning to make it casual,” Todoroki murmurs, his voice low and steady. “I like you, Katsuki. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Katsuki freezes. The air between them feels thicker, heavier, until the only sound is their breathing and the faint bass pulsing through the walls outside. “You’re serious,” he says, more of a statement than a question, but there’s still disbelief in his voice.

Todoroki nods once, unflinching. “I am. I don’t play around with this kind of thing.”

Katsuki huffs, eyes darting away, his hand fisting the fabric of Todoroki’s sweatshirt like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. “You’re saying that now, after cornering me in some guestroom, kissed me—”

“You invited me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

Todoroki laughs softly, a sound that makes Katsuki’s stomach twist. “I told you I like being honest, remember?”

Katsuki exhales sharply, looking at him again—the stupidly calm face, the stupid perfect hair, and those mismatched eyes that see way too much. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters.

“Maybe,” Todoroki says, tone still mild, but there’s a trace of amusement in his eyes. “But I meant what I said. I like you. I'm asking you if you want to be my boyfriend.”

Katsuki swallows, trying to force down the warmth crawling up his neck. “You’re really bad at picking timing, you know that?”

Todoroki’s voice drops a little lower, softer. “Is that a no, then?”

Katsuki’s breath catches. He wants to say something sharp, something to deflect—but the sincerity in Todoroki’s gaze makes the words die in his throat. He sighs instead, muttering, “You’re lucky I like you too, dumbass.”

A real smile tugs at Todoroki’s lips—small, slow, and devastating. “So… that’s a yes?”

“Don’t push it,” Katsuki grumbles, cheeks hot, but he doesn’t move away.

Todoroki chuckles, resting his forehead against Katsuki’s for a brief second. “Too late.”

And for a while, they stay like that—two idiots in a quiet room, pretending they’re not both completely gone for each other.

💎⛏️

Epilogue

Katsuki swears this was a bad idea from the start. 

He knows it.

He fucking knows it.

Because the moment he hits the “Go Live” button, the chat explodes faster than the stupid creeper ever could.

kittenxLlove: HOLY SHIT IS THIS REAL??
axolotlqueen: WAIT IS THAT WHO WE THINK IT IS??
gamerYO77: NO WAY THEY’RE STREAMING TOGETHER AGAIN
shoutogirlie: WHY DOES THE TITLE SAY “SPECIAL STREAM” OMGG
PinkyGaming: FACE REVEAL????
PinkyGaming:😭😭😭😭😭

The viewer count keeps climbing—past fifty thousand, then sixty, then a hundred. And that was before Shouto even shows his damn face.

“Alright,” Katsuki mutters into the mic, already glaring at the flood of messages flying by. “Stop spamming, you freaks. We’re starting soon.”

“Be nice,” comes a calm voice from beside him.

The chat erupts.

axolotlqueen: THAT VOICE
axolotlqueen: THAT DAMN VOICE
PinkyGaming: OH MY GOD IT’S HIM
shoutogirlie: SHOUTOOOOOO BABEEEE
kittenegirl: HE’S RIGHT THERE ISN’T HE
urfavegamer: CAMERA NOW CAMERA NOW CAMERA NOW

Katsuki shoots a deadly glare at the screen. “You impatient bastards—fine.” He huffs, reaching over to adjust the webcam.

The frame widens—And then he appears. Todoroki fucking Shouto, sitting right beside him, casual as hell in a white hoodie, hair falling slightly over his mismatched eyes as he gives the camera a polite smile.

“Hey,” Shouto says softly, voice steady.

The world collectively has lost its mind.

PinkyGaming: OH MY GOD HE’S REAL
axolotlqueen: HE’S SO HOT WTFFFF???
shoutogirlie: SHOUTO IS REAL SHOUTO IS REAL
groundzeroextra: bakugou is blushing lmao
kittygiuy: THEY’RE SITTING TOO CLOSE
kittygiuy: I REPEAT TOO CLOSE
PinkyGaming: TOO CLOSE TOO CLOSE TOO CLOSE

Katsuki drags a hand down his face. “You extras are insufferable.”

Shouto laughs quietly beside him. “They’re just excited.”

“Yeah, well, they should calm the hell down,” Katsuki mutters, but the corner of his mouth betrays him—tilting upward, just barely. He adjusts his camera agaun and checks the screen. “Shouto, come closer so you’re full in the frame.” 

The camera catches it. The chat notices.

PinkyGaming: HE’S SMILING HE’S SMILINGGGG
axolotlqueen: THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER I CAN’T
grndzeroEXTRA: WAIT. DID HE JUST CALL HIM SHOUTO EARLIER??
brickboi98: yeah i heard lol so funny to see him like this

Katsuki freezes mid-sentence as the messages flow by faster than he could read. “Oh for fuck’s sake—”

Shouto turns slightly toward him. “You did call me by my first name, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki hisses, ears red.

PinkyGaming: OMG HE’S BLUSHINGGGGG
PinkyGaming: THEY’RE SO DOMESTIC
grndzeroEXTRA: GROUNDZERO CALLS HIM SHOUTO
axolotlqueen: SHOUTO CALLS HIM KATSUKI IM GONNA CRY

The sound of the desk mic picking up Katsuki’s sigh fills the stream. “Alright, fine! You little shits want confirmation so bad?”

He leans forward, arms crossed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki says, deadpan. “We’re fucking dating. What’s the big deal?”

The silence lasts about half a second before the stream chat detonates.

pixelbloom: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
PinkyGaming: I KNEW IT
mintcrash: I FUCKING KNEW IT
axolotlqueen: POWER COUPLE OF THE YEAR
sugarctrl: THEY’RE CANON THEY’RE CANON
PinkyGaming: I’M SOBBING
axolotlqueen: MOM PICK ME UP THEY’RE IN LOVE

Beside him, Shouto chuckles softly, clearly amused by Katsuki’s growing irritation and the chat’s collective meltdown. “They seem happy for us,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand briefly on Katsuki’s arm.

Katsuki shoots him a side-eye but doesn't move away. “Yeah, whatever. They better be.”

kittenbug: HE’S SO SOFT FOR HIM I CAN’T DO THIS
PinkyGaming: BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS
axolotlqueen: SOMEONE CLIP THIS MOMENT RN

Katsuki exhales , shaking his head as Shouto smiles at the camera, perfectly calm in the chaos. And maybe, just maybe, when Katsuki looks at him—really looks at him—he can’t help but grin. Because after all the bullshit, the teasing, the streams, and the awkward confessions—They’d finally gotten here.

Together.