Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started off simple.

Working weird fuckin’ hours, need more money to pay for unexpected shit like helping with attorney fees, and an offhanded comment thrown alongside an OnlyFans suggestion. What was it Soy Sauce suggested?

“The fuck did you say?”

“Maybe you could make an OnlyFans page?” Dunce Face suggested helpfully, a goofy ass smile on his face that belied both mild terror and hopeful confusion. He was sitting on the corner of the worn-out love seat, one leg bent in front of him on the arm rest and the other dangling to the floor. Pinky sat closest to him and popped a bubble as pink as her hair before fixing him with a scowl that almost made Katsuki proud.

“Not you, dumbass – fuckin’ Soy Sauce” Katsuki snarked back, the sneer on his face made Dunce Face’s smile morph into something more akin to terror than confusion. The black haired slenderman-looking asshole on the other end of the couch tapped his knee for effect while grinning back at Katsuki.

“You should find a temporary roommate – ”

“Fuck you.”

“Someone that has opposite hours to you, so when you’re not here – they’re here. And when you’re here, they’re not.” Soy Sauce bulldozed on as if Katsuki hadn’t said a fucking word.

“Fuck that.” Katsuki snapped, briefly glancing at Pinky. Her lips were pressed tight into a thin grimace as she stared a hole into the carpet like she could set the whole fucking place on fire with her look. Arms folded tightly across her chest and legs crossed, she tapped out a rhythm into the leg of the coffee table with a socked foot. Glare quickly snapped back to Soy Sauce as he contemplated how quickly he could get over the coffee table to punch the bastard.

“It wouldn’t have to be permanent man!” Soy Sauce added, throwing his hands up in a placating manner like Katsuki was going to attack him, which, to be fair he was actively contemplating. “A temporary solution to a temporary problem, right?” He said, turning a sheepish smile to Pinky Pie.

Something shifted on her face, eyes softening as she dropped her head to her shoulder, contemplating the carpet from a new angle.

“I mean,” Pinky said quietly, taking a moment to recross her legs in the other direction, “I’m sure it would be really helpful to you Kats”. Her eyes left the carpet to find Katsuki’s own. The thin-lipped grimace adjusting to something closer to a reserved smile. Pinky glanced over at Soy Sauce, “temporary. Right?” She asked, directing her question towards the discount Spiderman as if he lived here instead of Katsuki.

The shitstain nodded before pointing fucking finger guns at Katsuki, “Totally man! You do a short-term lease and they pay Kiri’s portion of the rent,” a wince went through everyone, “which gives you more financial freedom to help with the costs and not stress over other things!”

“I’m not fucking stressed!” Katsuki grit out, teeth clenched only to receive blank looks from his so-called friends before they began discussing the details of Katsuki’s soon-to-be living arrangements as if he wasn’t there.

Despite shouted input by the person who “lives in this goddamn place unlike you assholes!”, it was decided to list the apartment as a ‘houseshare’ in the local paper ad. The roommate would pay half of the rent for a short-term lease and would need to work opposite hours from Katsuki. They could have the apartment on alternating weekends, “like a divorce!” Dunce Face cackled with glee and referred to the solution as Katsuki’s custody arrangement for the rest of the conversation until he kicked them out.

Due to his weird schedule, Mina offered to vet any potential renters and handle most of the arrangements.

Fine by him. What’s the worst that could happen?

The ad was placed by the end of the week.

Houseshare in 1LKD one-bed in 4 Chome near University Hospital, rent 82,000 yen per month including bills. Available immediately, for short-term lease with 6 month minimum. Apartment (and room/bed) to share with twenty-six year old nurse who works nights and alternating weekends. Only in the apartment from 9am to 6pm. Background checks required. To view – contact M. Ashido, details below.

Izuku Midoriya was a ticking time bomb.

Scratch that. His life had already imploded and now he was living in his own personal brand of post-apocalyptic hell.

Let’s review the facts, shall we?

1. He was a severely underpaid librarian at the General Library for the University of Tokyo

2. He was currently living with his two best friends who had sex loudly most nights and didn’t seem to realize that their walls are made of rice paper

3. The reason for living with his friends is because his ex decided to dump him by bringing home a new boyfriend and introducing Izuku as her “friend who would soon be moving out”.

4. He is laughably short, even by Japanese standards, at a whopping 5’5”

“Are you sure about this?” Uraraka asked, worry evident in her tone even over the phone. He could head Ida in the background, asking rapid fire questions about the listing, the neighborhood, criminal associations, and more which Uraraka resolutely ignored.

“Yeah,” Izuku murmured as he turned onto the street and noted the apartment complex further ahead on his left. Standing just inside the gates was a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with curly bubblegum pink hair and a stylish jumpsuit. Izuku could tell that she was typing rapidly on her phone before looking up and peering through the gates before she spotted him. She cast him a quick smile and a friendly way before pocketing her phone and working on opening the gate latch. “I see her ‘Chaco! I’ll call with details after!”

The woman, Ashido Mina, was a friend of the guy who lived there.

The guy, Bakugou Katsuki, was a nurse at the hospital nearby and worked the night shift during the week as well as alternating weekends.

He was 26, single, tall, liked to workout and eat healthy, and blonde. Details which Ashido found to be incredibly important to share with Izuku as she showed him around the apartment.

It was a nice place that was split with the living area and kitchen on one side and the bathroom and bedroom on the other. Lots of storage space which was important considering the stuff that Izuku still had in storage from his sudden vacancy. Izuku peering into the bedroom, noting the well-made bed and the general comfortable feel of the room before glancing back at her, noting she had steadily worked her way to hover at his elbow.

“Um. So there’s.. one bed?” he asked while attempting to create some distance between the two of them. Ashido grinned at him, reminding Izuku of the expression, ‘the cat that caught the canary’ or something to that effect.

“Yep!” She chirped, popping the ‘p’ on the end of the word. “But don’t worry, Kat’s will be at work when you’re here and you’ll be at work when he’s here!” She leaned more into Izuku’s space, golden eyes lighting up as she pointed to some boxes on the other side of bed. “He had another roommate, and they shared the house no problem!” A glimmer of something like sadness swept over her face the longer she stared at the boxes which only served to deepen Izuku’s growing frown. “The other roommate, his name is Kirishima Eijiro”, she added.

Wait. Was that the hint of tears in her eyes?!

“He’s been… reassigned temporarily,” Mina gave Izuku a wobbly smile, “he’s a great guy, an incredible, super manly guy” she added with a watery laugh. “That’s why it’s a temporary lease. Just until he gets back.” Izuku glanced back into the bedroom, taking in the details of the room before looking back into the common area and noticing the impeccable cleanliness of the apartment.

He would essentially have the place to himself, right? Just have to sleep in the same bed as a guy that he’s never met and likely will never meet. Not weird at all, right? Oh God, what if this guy a sweaty sleeper? Would Izuku need to put on his own sheets? What if he sleeps naked?

“Pretty sure he doesn’t, but he is hot.” Ashido grinned at him, halting Izuku’s thoughts immediately and causing him to jolt. “I mean, he runs hot but Kiri never said anything about him being gross or a bad bedmate.” The sly smirk that Ashido had as she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and waved it in Izuku’s face indicated that she definitely meant to say that. “So what’s it going to be cutie? Because if you don’t want it, I need to move on to the next person.”

“I’ll take it.”

Chapter Text

Hi! I completely forgot to take out the trash this morning! If you haven’t missed the collection, would you mind taking it out? Thanks! ~ Midoriya Deku

Deku.

Who the fuck names their kid Deku?

Katsuki stared at the post-it note affixed to his front door, key fully in the lock and turned when he noticed it. Why the fuck didn’t he just take out the trash instead of sticking a post-it note to the door. Secondly, who the fuck carries around post-it notes?

It had been a full month of living with the new housemate. Katsuki kept the house immaculately clean and Deku… did not. He was messy as fuck. Shoes haphazardly piled by the door, dishes left in the sink, and scarves and jackets flung over the back of random chairs now that the weather is beginning to turn colder. This guy had so many clothes. And they weren’t even fashionable. Shit like shirts that literally said “t-shirt” and fucking cargo shorts.

Not to mention all the books and notebooks left on any available surface. Next to the bed, in the living area, in the kitchen, in the bathroom. It was like the guy couldn’t be in a room if there wasn’t a book there. And the fucker didn’t even read the same genre consistently. Recently, it had been a romance novel in the bedroom (fucking gross – Katuski changed the sheets every time he got home once he noticed that one). Before that it was a book on the American serial killer, Ted Bundy – which if Katsuki skimmed that one instead of sleeping, that was between him and whatever higher power existed.

Katsuki had demanded his housemate’s contact info from Pinky (so he could verbally assault the asshole over text), but she refused and said that she would handle the issue. The shoes were now gone and there was still an occasional tea mug in the sink in the mornings. Some days it was half-full like the idiot didn’t get a chance to finish it. Other days it was completely full and sitting next to the kettle completely forgotten. At least the jackets and scarves had been relegated to one chair rather than everywhere in the house. Katsuki would’ve liked them to be hung up, but was that a small price to pay for the extra cash he was getting? Fine.

Back to the issue at hand.

Deku was obviously a huge nerd. The post-it note cemented that, because again, who the fuck carries around post-its?

Once he managed to get the door open, Katsuki grabbed the note and crumpled it before tossing it into the trash on his way into the kitchen. He had noticed that the collection hadn’t come yet, and he wasn’t about to deal with a smelly house during his time at home.

After taking out the trash and washing his hands for the 273^rd time today, Katsuki rummaged through the kitchen, looking for some scrap of paper to write back to his idiotic housemate. If Pinky wouldn’t give him the nerd’s number, then at least he could communicate his ire this way. Deku had left one of his notebooks sitting on the counter, a tiny sketchbook full of blank-faced people in various states of being. The drawings were halfway decent, and Katsuki wasn’t that much of an asshole to use one of those. He flipped through the notebook until he found a blank page and ripped it out with a flourish and a maniacal grin.

By the time Izuku returned home, he felt as if he was on the verge of tears.

• Three separate people had yelled at him today because the books that they needed for their assignment (that was due in 2 days) were already checked out.
• As well as his supervisor, because he was 30 minutes late.
• He managed to drop one of the huge medical tomes on his foot first thing this morning.
• He had also managed to drop a can of sweetened condensed milk on the same foot while he was picking up a few groceries.
• To top it all off, while checking his social media during his lunch break, Izuku discovered that his ex-girlfriend was now engaged to the man that she had left him for.

Needless to say – it was not a good day.

He managed to limp into the house with the groceries still intact and dumped them unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter. As he began to pull the items out and arrange them on the counter, he noticed a page ripped from one of his (many) sketchbooks in unfamiliar neat handwriting.

But you could take the time to write a note and stick it to the door? I fucking handled it because you couldn’t be bothered.
Really living up to your name, Deku.

Btw – hang up your shit or next time I throw it out with the trash. ~ BK

The small bottle of strawberry milk slipped from his hand and landed directly on his foot. This time, the tears couldn’t be held back as Izuku allowed himself to slip to the kitchen floor and let the tears flow.

It took a little time to stop the flow of tears at all the injustices that had piled up through the day, even requiring a 27-minute phone call to Uraraka and Iida to reassure him that he wasn’t a complete failure. He was finally able to pull himself back together and finish putting away the groceries, opting to make millionaire shortbread instead of dinner. The process of baking helped put his mind at ease as he carefully measured each ingredient, referring occasionally to the cookbook he brought home from the library.

Baking was both a science and an art, requiring precision and chemistry to create the right combinations. In between each layer, Izuku made sure to wash each dish he dirtied and took the time to hang up the coats and scarves that he had relegated to one (!) chair in the dining area. Granted, there were at least 3 coats and 2 scarves, but that’s beside the point.

After pouring the caramel layer, Izuku decided to eat one of the packages of instant ramen that he had bought and finish the romance novel that he had left in the bedroom. The book wasn’t all that romantic, fluffier with a tiny bit of spice, though he was certain that he had left his bookmark a few pages later than where he found it. As soon as the caramel layer was cooled, the chocolate layer went on and he popped it back into the fridge in time for a soaking bath, complete with Epsom salts for his sore foot.

Feeling refreshed and calmer than he had all day, Izuku twirled a pen in his fingers as he stared down at the pad of blank post-it notes in front of him. He hummed and took another bite of his third shortbread bar, looking back over his housemate’s note.

Hi! Sorry to do that to you but thank you for taking care of it! I was running late because I had turned my alarm off and missed my second alarm! I think I overslept because I stayed up too late trying to finish reviewing a paper, which I didn’t get to finish reviewing, and had to finish at work. But I remembered that I didn’t take it out and I had the post-it notes in my bag for work, so I stuck it in on the door. I got yelled at for being late, so I guess it wouldn’t have mattered if I was later?

Anyway – I made some millionaire shortcake because I had a terrible day, and it helps me to feel better to make something. Please accept my baked goods as consolation for inconveniencing you!

P.s. – What is a Deku?? ~ Midoriya I-Z-U-K-U

Chapter Text

A Deku is someone who’s fucking useless.

Btw – did you put crack in those bars? Dinner leftovers in the fridge if you want them. ~BK

Huffing at the insult, Izuku pulled back the lid of the container marked with today’s date. Immediately, he found himself overwhelmed with a savory smell that triggered a growl from his stomach. Bakugou had made a yellow curry that smelled like something he would order from a restaurant, with the lingering current of spice that made him drool. He had even put a mound of rice in the container, perfectly portioned out and surrounded by the thick curry. Izuku could pick out the cut squares of potato, chicken, and carrots smothered by the sauce. He was quick to reheat it and found himself groaning around the first mouthful.

Sadly, Bakugou’s curry was probably the first homemade meal he had since moving into the house, and it might’ve been the best thing he’s ever eaten. Once the curry was gone (he made sure to wash AND put away his dishes), Izuku considered the stack of post-it notes that awaited him on the counter. How do you talk to a guy that insists on insulting you when he’s never met you? Maybe that was the thing about anonymity? You can be a total dick to someone you’ve never met because the consequences don’t feel real.

Not that Izuku was a dick. Or a Deku for that matter. But he could be petty if he wanted to.

Do tears count as crack? If so, then yes.

The curry was DELICIOUS! A little above my spice tolerance, but I still enjoyed it! Thanks Kacchan!

I’ll make dessert if you continue to leave leftovers!

The smirk on Katsuki’s face vanished as he re-read the note Deku had stuck to their fridge, eyes searching for the mistake in his housemate’s messy handwriting.

Kacchan?! KACCHAN?! THAT. FUCKER.

Katuski growled out his frustration at the empty house while shoving a bar of shortbread in his mouth, fingers drumming on the countertop as he contemplated his next move. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth considering how good Deku’s shortbread bars were and the fact that he had to make dinner for himself anyway. But that baby nickname sure as hell wasn’t going to fly. Reading over the note again, Katuski’s smirk returned to his face as he began to formulate a response.

Sure Deku.

Enjoy the leftovers.

Tonight’s dinner was apparently oyako donburi made with the chicken cutlets Izuku had seen in the fridge last night. Izuku was ecstatic about receiving another one of Bakugou’s meals, admiring the layering of each ingredient in the bowl, even down to the picturesque sauce drizzled over the top. Izuku was willing to overlook his housemate’s insistence on using the insulting nickname as he waited on his food to reheat. A quick murmur of “itadakimasu” before loading a large bite onto his chopsticks, making sure to get a little bit of everything to create the perfect bite with vegetables, rice, chicken, and sauce so that incredible melding of flavor and spice hit every taste bud. The heat was higher than Izuku preferred, but maybe he could build up his spice tolerance. Honestly, he would suffer if it meant that he didn’t have to cook for himself.

As he began to pick through the bowl to create a second perfect bite, the heat began to build at the back of his tongue, slowly sweeping through his mouth like a smoldering ember that grew into a raging inferno. A hiccup forced its way from back in Izuku’s throat which only fanned the flames of spice. Downing two glasses of water did nothing to ease the pain or the hiccups as sweat prickled across his forehead and tears began to form. They were, unfortunately, out of milk which found Izuku kneeling on the ground as he shoved bread into his mouth until the burning eased and the hiccups slowly began to die away.

After thoroughly washing his hands and cleaning his face, Izuku found himself at the combini down the street picking up a few packages of instant noodles and other snacks to get him through the rest of the week. He called Uraraka and Iida on his way back to help him decide if Bakugou had made it extremely spicy on purpose.

“Wait… why where you eating his leftovers? Isn’t that completely against the roommate code of ethics or something?” Uraraka asked, the sound of dishes clanging in the background as Iida finished loading the small dishwasher in their apartment, with Izuku on speaker so they could both offer input.

“He had said that he would make dinner and I could have the leftovers if I made dessert!”

“Are you stress baking again?”

“That’s not the point…”

“Wait – you talked to him? I thought you guys were supposed to have opposite schedules, so you weren’t home at the same time?” Iida asked, voice louder as he moved closer to the phone.

“He would tell us if he actually met the guy,” Uraraka pointed out, “how did you guys talk about that though? Did his girlfriend give you his number or something?”

“I don’t think she’s his girlfriend,” Izuku mumbled as he shifted his phone and packages to unlock the front door. “I think she’s dating the other roommate, but no, we’re writing notes to each other.”

“Oh my God, what is this – an Edo romance?” Uraraka laughed which prompted Izuku’s face to erupt in a pink flush. Thank God she couldn’t see him right now or she would be even more merciless. “No! I had – hang on,” he had finally gotten the door unlocked and quickly dropped his items in the kitchen. “I had left him a note about our trash and it went from there. He responds with his own note, then I respond when I get home.”

“So you’re penpals with your bedmate?” Izuku’s cheeks burned brighter at the implication of her words. He set his phone on the counter and put it on speaker as he began to put away his purchases.

“Housemate!”

“Whatever. So you’re writing koibumi to him and he agreed to make dinner if you make desert for him, very domestic by the way –“

“It’s not love letters!”

“And he made dinner so spicy that you couldn’t eat it?”

“Yeah, like, I even mentioned that the last thing he made was a little above my spice tolerance levels, why would he make it even spicier?!”

“You told him that the previous leftovers were too spicy?” Iida questioned.

“Yeah! That’s what I don’t get. If he doesn’t want me to eat his food, then don’t offer?”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, outside of him calling me Deku in the notes so I called him… Oh my God.” Izuku’s mouth dropped as he whirled around and looked at their sticky note conversation trail, trailing his finger down the path of their conversations.

“What?!”

“What is Deku?”

The last note was short and simple. Oh my God, he did it on purpose.

“I pissed him off.” Izuku laughed, whirling around to tear into one of the instant noodle packages.

“How?”

“What is a Deku?” Iida asked again, followed by a harsh whisper from Uraraka to “look it up”.

“I called him Kacchan in my last note because he called me Deku, which he said is someone who’s useless,” Twin gasps echoed from Iida and Uraraka, “So I thought, well if he has a nickname for me, then I can have one for him and yeah.. I think he made the donburi ultra spicy because I said that the curry was spicy, so he’s obviously getting back at me for the nickname. Ugh! It makes so much sense now!” Izuku rasped as he flicked on the kettle for his noodles.

“What an asshole!”

“I mean, I probably deserve it- “

“No!” The aggressive nature of the ‘no’ was enough to make Izuku pause and look at his phone, shock written across his face. “No,” Uraraka said, much gentler this time, “you do not deserve to be treated poorly because you responded to someone else’s actions.”

“But- “

“And don’t you apologize either. He called you useless and you responded with a childish nickname – those are not the same thing. He made food that’s inedible and I hope to God that he couldn’t eat it either or that it gave him burning diarrhea,” Iida made a sound of shock in the background and Izuku couldn’t help the giggle that spilled out of him as he poured the boiling water into his bowl. “Deku sounds like Dekiru, don’t you think? So, if he wants to keep calling you that, remind yourself that you can do it. But don’t you dare apologize to him and if he escalates, let us know so we can move you back in with us and I’ll kick his ass while I’m at it. Got it?”

“Got it.”

So, it continued.

Soon the fridge was full of notes, and they began to spill over into other areas of the kitchen. Bakugou never apologized for calling him Deku and Midoryia never apologized for calling him Kacchan, but they continued to refer to each other as such in their notes. Sometimes, their notes were mundane, like:

You need to wake up on time dumbass. I’m not your maid.

     Sorry Kacchan! I stayed up late watching the new All Might episode.

Fucking NERD. That cliffhanger was bullshit tho

     OHMYGODITMADEMESOANGRY

Other times, Deku would ask questions about their neighbors or request a meal:

What is the deal with the guy with the cat food? Why does he need so much cat food? Those are 30 pound bags! A week!

     He’s a cat. Don’t discriminate his food preferences Deku. Fucking rude. What’s your favorite meal?

Do you think he hordes cats? Maybe he donates it to the animal shelter? Also, katsudon is my favorite meal! My Mom makes the best katsudon.

     Give me your Mom’s recipe and I’ll make it better than her.

I dare you to make it better.

     That a challenge? Fuckin bet on it.

Rarely, Bakugou would ask for something:

You work at a library right?

     I do! Are you looking for something in particular?

I gotta do a training with the new hires. Need something that’s motivational and shit, but evidence-based and helps them not blame themselves when shit goes sideways

     My Mom’s recipe is under this note! Let me look and see what we would have – are you looking for a specific specialty? Something related to trauma and “motivational and shit”

Got it. I’ll make it Friday so you can cry over it all weekend. No specialty, but trauma would be good.

     Try this one? It’s called Trauma Stewardship – it’s about working with trauma exposure while not getting burnt out.

Katsuki had begun to figure out details about his new housemate’s life through the series of notes that he left. Like, the guy tended to ramble. A lot. He also operated in extremes. Sometimes, Katsuki would get home to a clean house with dishes put away and the trash taken out, he could tell that Deku had woken up early (or on-time) and had been able to get everything done. Other times, Katsuki would come home to a state of chaos with a completely untouched (and full) cup of tea sitting near the kettle, crumbs of toast on a plate that was still on the counter, and clothes thrown haphazardly in the corner of the room. However, now Katsuki would simply clean up after his housemate and leave him a negative review on his sticky note of the day while hunting around the kitchen for whatever dessert Deku had most likely made the night before.

Today was an orange-vanilla pound cake with an orange sauce drizzled over the top. Katsuki had decided to wait to try it until after he had slept so he could get some sugar in his system as a form of pre-workout. Katsuki was a creature of habit. He would come home, take a shower, make himself dinner at 9:30 in the morning before sleeping until 4 in the afternoon. Then he would change into his workout clothes, make sure his backpack was packed with all his essential supplies, write a letter to Kiri or talk to him on the phone during their scheduled call time while eating a high protein breakfast then heading to the gym to work out before his shift.

Today however, Katsuki felt the twinges of something in his chest as he tried to slowly eat the pound cake, staring at the landline phone hidden behind the large monstera that was slowly taking over the corner of the common room. It was getting close to the time that he normally left and Shitty Hair still hadn’t called. He had already finished off his breakfast and was ready to walk out the door, glancing at his watch as the minutes ticked by. Maybe Shitty Hair had gotten his dates wrong and called Pinky or Pikachu instead? The feeling didn’t sit well with him. What if he called when Katsuki wasn’t home? He hadn’t missed a call with his former roommate since the first day that he was thrown into jail.

A growing tension in his jaw and temples was spurred on by the blaring of an alarm on his phone. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t get his workout in, and he would be frustrated for his long ass shift. One last glance at the phone, hesitating with his hand on the door knob before huffing and heading off to the gym.

As Izuku approached the door to his shared apartment with Kacchan, he could hear the ringing of a phone. He knew there was an old landline in the house, but he had never used it or ever heard someone call it. Honestly, he was pretty sure it was some aesthetic thing at this point, but the loud ringing when he opened the door quickly shot that idea down. The familiar curdling feeling in his upper stomach manifested itself as he rushed to the phone, hand hovering over the receiver as he contemplated answering. What if it was Kacchan calling? What if it was his ex? What if it was something private and he shouldn’t answer? What if-

“To accept this call from Kirishima Eijiro at the Tokyo Detention Center, please press star.”

“Beep.”

“Please hold.”

“Hey man!” A sunny voice answered the phone. Evidently in Izuku’s anxious spiral, he had answered the call and pressed the star key while staring dumbly at the shiny green plant in front of him. “Sorry I’m calling so late bro! We had a lockdown this morning and all our call times got pushed back. Though to be honest, I’m surprised that you answered! I figured you’d already be at the gym!”

“What do you mean there was a lockdown this morning?” Stupid Izuku. That’s the first thing you can think to say?

“Yeah, some dude tried to stab another dude because he ruined the end of his book for him. Like, that sucks, but totally not murder-worthy, you know?”

“I don’t know, depends on how into the book he was?”

“I guess – whoa. You alright man? Your voice sounds weird? You sick or something? Dude! Is that why you’re not at the gym?!” The instant concern in this unknown man’s voice at the thought that Kacchan could be sick was extremely touching. Izuku coughed lightly, grimacing as he tried to think about how to explain the mixup. “Bro, why didn’t you tell me you’re sick? That’s so unmanly to keep your friends out of the loop.”

“Um… He’s not sick, he’s at work, I think. I-I’m… um, not him? I’m Midoryia Izuku? His new housemate?”

Izuku was met with silence on the other end, or at least as much silence as someone could possibly have when they were calling from a detention center with various yelling and talking going on in the background. The silence felt like it was going on for an eternity and Izuku’s face burned at the thought of using this man’s one phone call and having to explain it to his housemate and-

“Whoa! So you’re Deku?!” The other man shouted into the phone, scaring Izuku enough that he grappled with the receiver momentarily so he didn’t drop it.

“Uh.. yeah? It’s actually Izuku, but Kacchan insisted on calling me that.”

“KAC-KACCHAN?!” The guy burst into the loudest laughter, bordering on a wheeze and accompanied by what sounded like a hand slapping on a wall. “Bro. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Kacchan. Do you call him that to his face?”

“Well, no… we’ve never actually met?”

“Right, you guys write notes to each other. That’s super cool, man. It’s nice to finally get a chance to talk to you! Sucks that it’s under these circumstances, but nice all the same.”

“Nice to talk to you too…?”

“Oh! Kirishima Eijirou. I used to share the house with Bakugou before I landed in here.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not some crazy murderer, just a… victim of wrong timing and misidentification, I guess. I’m innocent, I totally swear, but uh, they got me on….uh.”

“Circumstantial evidence?”

“That’s it! Bakugou wasn’t kidding when he said you were smart!”

“He said that?!”

“Well, not exactly. He’s called you a nerd a bunch of times, but he talks about you in his letters and sometimes his calls?”

“He does?” Just as the burning sensation in Izuku’s cheeks had started to fade, the feeling raced back up his face and through the tops of his ears.

“Oh yeah man, he tells me about your notes and that you’re a really good baker!”

“I can’t believe he said that!”

“One thing about Bakubro is that he doesn’t lie man. But anyway, he’s a really good guy. The best bro that anyone could ask for. By the way, could you do me a favor?”

“Uhh, sure?”

“Dude, you’re the best! Can you write him a note and let him know that I called? Tell him that I couldn’t call earlier because of the lockdown, but we’re still on schedule for him to visit this weekend.”

“Oh, he’s coming to visit you? That’s great!” Izuku felt a genuine smile paint across his face at the thought of his housemate and this voice which sounded like a pure ray of sunshine being able to talk in person.

“Yeah, my friends trade off on who comes to visit me and this month it’s Bakubro’s turn! Between you and me,” Kirishima lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I hope he brings good news from our attorney. I hate being here. It’s just not my scene, you know? I’m all for manliness and bros being bros, but I’m not about this life at all man.” Kirishima sounded so sad as he described the situation that he was in. Even though Izuku didn’t know what he looked like, he certainly didn’t sound like the type of person who belonged behind bars, much less a person who would do something to intentionally harm anyone –

“You really believe that?” Kirishima’s voice was so quiet. So childlike that it caught Izuku off-guard. Damn his tendency to mumble his thoughts out loud.

“I do. I’ve never met you, but I don’t feel like you’re a bad person? And if Kac- uh, Bakugou,” Kirishima let out a small snicker at the unintentional slip, “is friends with you and going to the lengths to help you that he is, then I feel that you’re... uh, of course, I don’t know that facts and details about why you’re there, so I can’t really- ”

“What if I told you?”

“What?”

“What if I told you all the facts and details? Everything. Then you could decide if I’m innocent or not.” Silence reigned over the line again as Izuku let the idea sink in. He could easily look up the details of Kirishima’s case, but that wouldn’t be as fair as hearing it from the man himself, would it? Looking over the shiny green plant in front of him, Izuku chewed on his bottom lip as he rubbed one of the leaves between his fingers.

The plant had belonged to Izuku. When he brought it into the house with him, he left it in the bathroom because he had read that it liked moisture and he figured that would be a good place for it. However, he had come home one day to find his plant repotted and placed in the common area on one of the tables nearest to the front window. In the short time that he had lived in the house, the plant had grown at least twice its original size and appeared to be flourishing under the care that Kacchan had given it.

“Only if you want to,” Izuku found himself saying, “but, I’m curious. Why do you want to know if I think you’re innocent?”

Kirishima hummed on the other end, a mumbled “one sec – yeah man, that’s cool, give me a moment” as if his hand was placed on the receiver and he was talking to someone else. “I gotta go man, but honestly? Because Kats seems to think you’re a good person. And if you think I’m innocent, then maybe I really am. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll write you a letter with everything in it, ‘kay? And don’t forget my note, please! It was nice talking to you!” A quick click caught the end of Kirishima’s words, followed by the abrupt sound of the dial tone.

Slowly hanging up the receiver, Izuku couldn’t shake the smile from his face. He wrote out a quick note to Kacchan about the call and after a shower, set up his phone in the kitchen to watch the newest All Might episode while he worked on a new recipe that Uraraka had sent him while he was at work. It seemed like something that Kacchan could take with him when he visited Kirishima? Salty and sweet, soft and crunchy all at the same time.

Your friend Kirishima called when I got home. He seems nice!!!

He told me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t call earlier, but there was a lockdown and it pushed back everyone’s call times. He did say you were still good to visit him this weekend.

He said he was going to write me a letter about why he’s there. I don’t know why I feel like I needed to tell you, but since he’s your friend – I thought you might want to know.

I made salted caramel apple pie bars, maybe you can share them with Kirishima?

Chapter Text

Katsuki locked eyes with the man in front of him, scowling as they stared each other down. The asshole had already patted him down, twice, and looked like he was contemplating doing it again just to piss him off. Another man stepped from around the low wall, holding Katsuki’s ID out to him.  “All good to go, Mr. Bakugou,” he managed as Katsuki snatched his ID away and shoved it into his wallet. “This way please.”

The long groan of the buzzer following the clicking of the locks echoed as Katsuki followed one of the guards through the containment locks. Down the hallway, another set of locks and security protocol before he was ushered into a room with multiple round tables and even more guards stationed along the walls. Some of the tables were occupied by other inmates and their visitors, mostly families with a few children who colored patiently while their parents talked. Katsuki was led to the same table that they always occupied, closer to the window with a view of the green park on the other side of high barbed wire fences.

Left to his own devices as the guard walked off to confirm Shitty Hair’s visitor with the other extras, Katsuki watched out the window, eyes squinting as he tried to identify the tiny figures that moved between the bushes and trees of the park. He wondered what Deku would be up to right now. The container with the salted caramel apple pie bars that Deku had sent along had been thoroughly contaminated by the guard’s security protocol as they touched every piece, moved them around, and even took one to test and sample before he was allowed to bring it back. The fuckers had worn gloves at least, but the thought of eating them now made his stomach churn. Thank God he had snuck a few before he brought them in.

Thanks to Deku's insistent baking, he had been forced to increase his workout regime beyond his usual maintenance set. Gazing at the green trees, his mind wandered to what Deku had looked like. Pinky had described him as green and short, refusing to give any more detail than that.

It felt like ages of being left with his own thoughts before he heard the buzzer groan and the locks shift from the other side of the room, just audible over the low hum of conversations. He could hear Shitty Hair before he saw him, greeting the guards with a laugh and making a point to say hey to one of the other inmate’s visitors.

Dark eyes that shone carmine in the fluorescent light met their twin, a grin threatening to split Shitty Hair’s face in half. “KATS!” Kirishima shouted, catching the irritated gaze of a few guards and the flinching of the uninitiated as he made his way to Katsuki.

Kirishima Eijirou was a beast of a man, towering over the guard that escorted him to the table. Prior to his detention, Kiri worked as a trainer for a local athletic facility and was the physical representation of peak physical performance. He even moonlighted as a bouncer during the off-season for some of the bars and clubs in Minato City, well-known for his large presence and the fact that he could take a solid hit and dish it back tenfold.

Even now, he looked larger than he did the last time Katsuki saw him, more muscle, less fat. Like he had been hitting the gym nonstop for months, which he probably had since there wasn't much else to do. His bright red hair which had been previously styled in gravity-defying spikes, now hung about his face with black roots heavily showing. His face, though still grinning as he folded himself to sit at the table across from Katsuki looked tired with darker circles under his eyes than he had ever seen.

“You look like shit.”

Kirishima laughed heartily, his eyes lighting up with mischief that could only spell disaster for Katsuki. “I feel like shit. How’s the wife?”

“Hah?!” Katsuki blanched as Shitty Hair snatched the dessert container from the table, cracking the lid and groaning as the smell of salted caramel and apple pie filled their senses.

“You know, the new roommate?” He added as he carefully pulled one of the bars out of the box and looked over it, turning it this way and that before biting into it and letting out a groan of “oh my gooooood,” Katsuku snatched the container away from him, hissing a vehement “fuck you”. Shitty Hair didn’t even bother pretending to hear him as he ate the rest of the bar like it was his last fucking meal, licking his fingers clean.

“What’s he look like?” Shitty Hair prompted as he rested his chin in his hand, gaze focused on the box of treats with a crooked smirk.

“How the fuck should I know?” Shitty Hair perked up, attention peaked.

“What do you mean how should you know? You haven’t seen him!?”

“Fuck no, we have opposite schedules. He’s at the house when I’m at work and gone when I’m there.”

“Dude, no way!”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t even tried to look him up?!”

“The fuck – no, I’m not a damn stalker!” One of the guards nearby their table coughed loudly, glaring at Katsuki from under his hat when they made eye contact. “What?” He barked back, only pulled from his impromptu staring contest by Shitty Hair snatching the box of bars again, pulling one triumphantly before Katsuki grabbed it back. “I don’t need to know what he looks like, he pays and bakes. What more do I need to know?”

“He sounds cute,” Kirishima hummed as he bit into the bar, chewing slower with his gaze trained on Katsuki’s face. “When I talked to him on the phone.”

This made Katsuki pause, eyes narrowed and flicking over his supposed friend’s face.

“I told him I would tell him everything that happened.”

“Why?”

“Because I want him to know.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know man-”

“Why?”

“I-I just want him to!”

“Why?”

“Because-, maybe, uh, I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I want to know!” Kirishima blurted out, eyes wide as he leaned across the table towards Katsuki, a vulnerable look etched across his face.

“What do you want to know?” Katsuki questioned, voice quieting as he leaned towards his friend.

“I- I want to know if he believes me.”

“Believes you how?”

“If he thinks I’m innocent...” Katsuki sat in stunned silence as he watched his friend’s expression droop. Suddenly all of the energy on his face, the joy and causal laughter drained out of him as Kirishima's eyes dropped to his hands spread on the table. “I want to know if he thinks I’m innocent.”

“Why the fuck does it matter what he thinks?” Katsuki grit out, expression hardening as Kirishima met his eyes, his own vulnerable expression hardening to match for a moment before softening again.

“Maybe if he believes me, it’ll be true.”

“Of course it’s true,” Katsuku scoffed, sitting back in his seat and throwing his arm up in a rude gesture before roughly shoving the box of treats toward the other man. The action brought a tiny smile back to Kirishima’s face as he helped himself to a third bar, happily munching on it as the two men sat in a brief silence. “What’s he sound like?”

Shitty Hair grinned back at him, wiping his mouth as he tilted his head to look at the ceiling, tapping his chin in the most dramatic way possible like the fucking tool he was. The fucker kept considered the ceiling from different angles, obviously trying to get on Katsuki’s last fucking nerve.

“He sounded cute, like, he had a higher voice than you." Katsuki leveled him with the most deadpan look he could muster. "He mutters his thoughts out loud without realizing it. I don’t know man, he sounded like a character from a shounen anime.” He laughed, eyes bright as he waggled his eyebrows at Katsuki which earned him a scoff.

“Fucking great, the rambling is nonstop.”

“Does he do it in his notes too?!”

“Yeah, just goes on a fucking tangent and suddenly he’s left two full notes without saying a goddamn thing.”

“I mean, he seems nice at least?”

“Yeah, if you like slobs who can’t get their shit together.”

“Speaking of not being able to get their shit together…”

“Don’t get me started on Dunce Face-“

“Any word from that lawyer?”

Katsuki felt the humor drain out of him, smirk dropping at the mention of that lowlife. Kirishima held his smile, but it began to slip as they sat in the telling silence. “Still nothing?”

“Fucker won't even call us back.”

“You- you guys are paying him, right?”

“OF COURSE WE’RE PAYING HIM! We send him a fuckin' check every month!” Katsuki exploded, throwing his hands up and grabbing at his hair instead of slamming them on the table.

Say what you will, but Katsuki did learn from his previous experiences. The last time he had pulled a stunt like that resulted in him being shoved into the table by two guards and promptly kicked out for ‘inciting violence and aggressive displays of behavior’. He growled out a deep sigh as he tugged at the sandy blonde strands and counted back from 10, running his hands down his face as he tried to match the pace of his breathing to the countdown.

“We’ve all reached out to him and he keeps saying shit like, 'he’s trying to find more evidence' or 'he’s interviewing more witnesses'. Soy Sauce even went to his fuckin' office. The bastard said that there was nothing more that we could do right now except wait.” Katsuki breathed out a sigh, watching as the disappointment and despair began to creep over the other’s face.

“Oh… that’s… um. Ok. I’m… I’m sure something will come up?” Kirishima offered a hopeful smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah.” Katsuki watched his friend’s expression as he tried to recover the happy feelings from before, eyes flitting around the room to the other inmates and their visitors. The silence was awkward and stilted, probably owing to the suffocating realization that they were sitting in a fucking prison, surrounded by armed guards, and relying on a lawyer who didn’t seem to know his ass from his hat that was siphoning their collective money into a black hole while they watched helplessly.

One of the lights overhead flickered with a conspicuous hum. Katsuki drummed his fingers on the table with a smirk as he caught his best friend’s eye. “Did Sparkplug tell you how he asked two separate people on a date and then ghosted himself because he forgot where they were meeting up?”

“No way!”

"Yeah, sent them to one place and he went somewhere else."

"Pfffttt - hahahah."

Shitty Hair said thanks for the bars. They were alright.

     I’m so glad he liked them! The katsudon was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. It tasted just like my Moms! (a few wet spots were splashed on the note)

What the fuck? Did you cry over that?

     NO! I GOT SOME WATER ON IT!

Bullshit. Fucking crybaby. You good with yakitori?

     NOT A CRYBABY. I’m going to visit my Mom this weekend, so you can make whatever you want.

Chapter Text

Katsuki looked over the last note from Deku, mentally calculating what day it was and how long it left him to be able to cancel plans with the idiot brigade. Since his arrangement with Deku had started, Katsuki had been spending his weekends crashing at each of his friend’s houses in turn when he wasn’t working a shift. This weekend he was supposed to stay with Dunce Face and Soy Sauce and while he appreciated their generosity (if it could be called that), he would much rather have the house to himself for the weekend. Katuski spent the next slot of his time preparing the marinade for his chicken and soaking the skewers as he contemplated his plan of attack for the weekend.

After a longer shower than he normally allowed himself and firing up the indoor grill, Katsuki sent a text out to the group chat, letting them know that he would be staying home this weekend

Lord Explosion Murder God

Oi – change of plans. Staying home this weekend

Sparkplug

Bro??

Discount Spiderman

?

Raccoon Eyes

???? are you sick or something??

Sparkplug

baku never gets sick!

Lord Explosion Murder God

Deku’s out of town this weekend

Sparkplug

k??

Discount Spiderman

party @ ur place?

Lord Explosion Murder God

Fuck no

Gonna get some fuckin REST

House to myself for a weekend without anyone’s bullshit

Discount Spiderman

aww u love our bullshit

Raccoon Eyes

Broccoli boi keeping u up at night? 😉

Sparkplug and Discount Spiderman are typing…

Lord Explosion Murder God

DIE!!!!

Sparkplug

BROCCOLI BOI????

Discount Spiderman

BROCCOLI BOI????

Lord Explosion Murder God

FUCK YOU ALL

Discount Spiderman

get it man!

wait

y change of plans?

Sparkplug

BROCCOLI BOI???

Raccoon Eyes

yah why change the plans if ur boytoy isn’t home?

seems like more reason to hang

Lord Explosion Murder God

So I don’t have to deal with you dipshits!

Discount Spiderman

that’s sad bro

Lord Explosion Murder God

Hah?!

Discount Spiderman

Blasty this weekend

*Gif of girl crying in her car alone, singing all by myself*

Lord Explosion Murder God

FUCK YOU SOY SAUCE

Sparkplug

WHO IS BROCCOLI BOI???

Raccoon Eyes

he doesn’t deny it!

blasty’s new bedmate – keep up babe

Lord Explosion Murder God

ROOMMATE GODDAMNIT

Sparkplug

BF?!?!

Lord Explosion Murder God

NO

Sparkplug

bro congrats!

Discount Spiderman

mazel tov

Katsuki threw his phone in frustration before burying his head into his hands, pulling sharply at his damp hair and letting it spike wildly.

What the actual fuck was wrong with his friends?! Dumbasses all of them.

As he went to flip the yakitori on the grill, he noticed black charring along half of the chicken from where he cooked it too long. He let out a growl which morphed into a frustrated scream, one which most likely scared the shit out of his neighbors. At this point though, he really didn’t care.

His phone continued to chime with notifications from across the rooms as his so-called friends continued to blow up his phone. This was all Deku’s fault.

Katsuki managed to finish cooking the rest of the chicken without burning any more pieces and if he left Deku half of the burnt ones for his role in his friend’s relentless teasing, then that was only fair.

He was honestly looking forward to tomorrow and the idea of having the house to himself unexpectedly, even if he did have to work one of his weekend shifts – it would be nice to come in and sleep in his own bed without having to worry about waking his friends up when he came in or left for his shifts.

Whatever. Don’t forget to take out the trash in the morning.

Originally, Izuku’s plan was to catch the train to Mustafu when he got off work on Friday, which would give him plenty of time to have a super late dinner with his Mom and then be able to spend the entire weekend with her.

However, the fortunate combination of expiring time off and his Mom wanting to go to a new market with him that afternoon changed those plans exponentially.

Thursday night, Izuku made sure to pack his bag and set his alarm (along with 3 backup alarms) so that he could wake up at his usual time and catch one of the first trains to his hometown. He managed to choke down the slightly burned yakitori and make a batch of cookies to tide his apparently grumpy roommate for the weekend.

He only made these cookies for special occasions, and if the burnt food was any indicator, this weekend called for a special occasion. While browning the butter, Izuku mentally ran through the different scenarios that could’ve resulted in his roommate burning food. After all, the guy cooked like a Michelin chef!

Could he have been called to answer a medical question while he was cooking? What if he was paged? Is that something they do? Did he have a bad day at work? Did a patient die? How often does that even happen? What was that one medical drama show? Lots of people died on that one and they were always being called when they weren’t supposed to be working. What is it like to work in a hospital?

Izuku’s train of thought continued to spiral as he finished mixing ingredients and began forming balls of dough around a caramel before rolling it in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar. Maybe he could ask his Mom about what it was like working in a hospital as a nurse to get some insight into what could be stressing out his roommate. would it be that big of a difference in the workload between a smaller hospital and a larger one? Sliding the cookies into the oven to bake, Izuku set a timer on his phone to alert him while he finished organizing his things for his trip.

By the time Izuku was finished with his packing and felt his yawns becoming more and more frequent, the house smelled amazing. Warm notes of cinnamon and sugar, along with the tantalizing hint of browned butter and caramel made him feel cozy and warm. He could only hope that the smell would continue to permeate the house until his roommate got home.

I won’t!

I hope you had a better night! I made some browned butter snickerdoodles with a surprise in the middle. I hope you like them! They’re for special occasions, but this seemed appropriate!

What. A. Fucking. Night.

Katuski stared dead-eyed as he approached the door to his place.

The entire shift had been an absolute fuckin’ shitshow. They were short-staffed to begin with. He worked with the most incompetent and condescending assholes he had ever met and they almost killed 2 different patients because they wouldn’t read the fucking chart. The new intern almost fucking fainted when an elderly woman came in with a head trauma from a fall and he had to deal with that. He didn’t even have a chance to eat because of all the fucking pages and alerts going off.

He was so fucking tired. All he wants is to get home. Get out of these fucking scrubs. Scrub every inch of his body until he was raw. Eat some food and sleep for the next 12 hours.

Fuck his workout.

Fuck anything else.

Fuck this job.

Fuck Deku.

Fuck Shitty Hair and the rest of the idiots.

Katuski hurled his backpack onto the couch as he toed off his shoes and stripped off his scrubs once he was inside the doorway. There was a faint scent of something warm and inviting, a spice that permeated the space. Cinnamon maybe?

It was enough to force him to take a deeper breath to inhale the smell as he wandered into the kitchen, noting Deku’s note about the cookies that sat on the counter in a container for him. Biting into one, the corners of his lips twitched into a smile as the caramel center filled his tastebuds.

Finishing the cookie, he noted that Deku had managed to take out the trash like he asked. It also appeared that the nerd had woken up early and managed to clean up after himself before leaving. He nodded to himself as he closed the container and went toward the bathroom, pushing a hand into his hair which felt greasy with sweat.

For a moment, he thought he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom, but it had stopped by the time he reached for the doorknob.

Probably the toilet running. He should probably check that this weekend and make sure there wasn’t a leak or something.

Opening the door, Katsuki was hit with a face full of steam.

The bathroom was full of smoke and for a moment, his heart went tachycardic as all his senses went on alert. Eyes widening and body tensed for signs of danger before the shower curtain directly in front of him pulled back and he was staring into the eyes of another man in his shower.

A very wet and naked man with the greenest eyes that Katsuki had ever seen.

Both of their mouths dropped open as they stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime before the other man screamed and yanked a towel off the hook, pulling the hook entirely out of the wall and clanging onto the floor as he tried to cover himself. Unfortunately, it was one of the smaller hand towels and it did little to hide the other.

Dark hair curled around his face and brushed the tops of freckled shoulders. A bright flush was quickly spreading across the other man’s face and down his neck, down his chest, and down the length of his body. His face was youthful with round cheeks that were dotted with freckles like he had been flecked with paint.

The naked guy was short and muscular, obviously owing to some kind of gym routine, but not in a way that Katsuki doubted his ability to take him in a fight.

“Who the fuck are you?” Katsuku growled. The man shivered. Honest to God shivered.

What a weird fuckin’ day. Why not end it with a fight with a naked man in his bathroom with his own dick out?

“Uhh..”, the guy had the audacity to glance him over and Katsuki belatedly realized that he was also completely buck-ass naked and trapping this weirdo in is bathroom. “I- I live here? Wh-who are you?” He choked out as he pressed the towel harder into his crotch.

The fight drained out of Katsuki as his brain registered what the guy said.

“Deku?” He whispered, disbelief and confusion spreading across his face, the expression being mirrored in the other’s face. The bright flush in his face deepened until he looked like a fuckin’ strawberry with those freckles.

“K-k-KACCHAN?!” The guy shouted at him, his voice cracking a bit at the end.

Deku – apparently – scrambled to get out of the shower and frantically glanced around the bathroom. He managed to snatch a full-sized towel off of the sink and covered himself before approaching Katsuki like he was a wild animal while pressing himself into the wall in an attempt to slide past him and out the door.

“I-I didn’t realize I had overslept! Oh my God, this – this is not how I thought we’d met! I’m so so SO sorry! Umm, I’ll – I’ll just go get changed, yeah, and. Um.” He stammered, weakly pushing Katsuki further out of the bathroom to get past while attempting to look anywhere that wasn’t Katsuki’s dick. “Yeah. Nicetomeetyou?”

Katsuki let himself be pushed out of the bathroom, brain still in the process of rebooting and processing whatever the fuck just happened when he was jolted back to reality by the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the words as he stared at the door, now knowing full well what Pinky meant by short and green.

What. A. Fucking. Day.