Chapter Text
The next morning, Sero and his castmates enjoy a quiet breakfast in the kitchen.
Until Kaminari, the last of them to wake, enters the room with a dramatic yawn and bluntly asks, “So, how many letters did everyone get?”
Sero feels himself blush, but is comforted when he sees several of the other boys tense up as well. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who didn’t get a single letter.
“It’s supposed to be anonymous,” Shouji reminds him kindly.
“Yeah, sparky, shut the fuck up,” Bakugou agrees, though he’s smirking the way Sero is learning is just how he smiles.
Kaminari pouts, but bats his eyelashes at Bakguou. “ Fineeee . Make me breakfast, Chef Bakugou?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, muttering to himself under his breath as he grabs the eggs to make Kaminari an omelet. Midoriya watches the exchange with such obvious heartache it almost physically hurts Sero to look at him. Yeesh.
After breakfast, they come up with a chore schedule. Sero is paired up with Kirishima this week on dish duty, so they chat amicably and get to know each other better. Kirishima isn’t usually Sero’s type– not that he really has a type, to be honest –but he has to admit to himself that Kirishima’s bright smile and the way his tank-top shows off his biceps is definitely attractive.
Just as they finish cleaning up, the tablet in the living room chirps with a new notification.
Sero swallows. He has been anxious, knowing that there was a job element to the show; what if they make him answer emails all day? He specifically chose a career path that mostly avoided that kind of mundane, soul-crushing work!
“‘Good morning everyone!’” Aoyama reads off the tablet with flair. “‘We hope you had a pleasant first day at Yueii. Today you will begin your training to run a coffee truck together.’”
Sero mentally fist-bumps as Aoyama reads the rest of the message. Sero has like… maybe two skills, and making a killer cup of coffee is one of them.
Not everyone feels the same, it seems; Sero notices that Todoroki’s brow is furrowed while the others argue about what to name their new small business. Sero tries not to make assumptions about people, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Todoroki doesn’t know how to make coffee, or if he hasn’t worked a service industry job before.
He gently nudges their shoulders together, smiling when Todoroki scowls at him. “Hey, don’t worry. Once you practice, it’ll be a piece of cake.”
Todoroki blinks at him and then looks away, though there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
The business-naming discussion is put on hold when they hear honking outside as a car pulls up to the driveway. It’s a powder-blue food truck, with plenty of space for a logo that Sero is already mocking up in his mind. The driver waves at them as he parks, and when he gets out he explains that he is the owner of a local cafe and will be teaching them how to operate their new business.
It’s embarrassing, but Sero preens when their trainer compliments his skills, especially when everyone starts making requests for different latte art. Kaminari, it turns out, is a fast learner– which makes sense given that he’s a bartender at a gay bar where he’s also a go-go dancer. Bakugou, likewise, is both ridiculously competitive and also used to the fast-pace nature of the culinary industry, so it’s not long before he can make latte art on his own; he gives Sero a cup of coffee that says SUCK IT to which Sero coquettishly replies, “Only if you say please,” which makes everyone– even Bakugou, surprisingly, –burst out into laughter.
They all continue training over the next week while they also work their normal jobs. In the meantime, they finally agree on a name for their truck– Plus Ultra . Sero designs the logo, drawing inspiration from classic manga fonts and speech bubbles.
It turns out that while most of the cast have jobs that require them to work in-person at least part of the week, Shouji and Sero are fully remote. They both agree it’s lonely working by themselves in their small bedrooms, so instead they work in companionable silence in the living room or out in the backyard when the weather is nice. They take turns making each other lunch, and more than once Sero wonders if this easy domesticity would somehow get even better as Shouji’s partner. Kaminari has already joked that two of them have become the house’s honorary Dads, and that doesn’t displease Sero in the slightest.
When Midoriya doesn’t have classes, he joins them to grade papers or work on his thesis. The way he mumbles to himself when he’s concentrating hard is adorable, and the way he lights up and smiles when Sero says he likes the All Might manga series makes his chubby freckled cheeks dangerously squishable.
On Mondays, the restaurant Bakugou works at is closed so he sleeps in on those days– which for him, is waking up at seven in the morning instead of six. Sero is also an early riser, a habit instilled from working the morning shift at Aizawa’s cafe for years, so he and Bakugou start going for jogs together before Bakugou makes them both breakfast. Bakugou complains the whole time, calling Sero lazy and a mooch– yet he also learns and respects Sero’s dietary preferences, and is surprisingly willing when Sero asks him how to make something.
Aoyama and Kaminari are definitely the party boys of the group, and they find out that Aoyama actually frequents the bar Kaminari works at. Sero has never been so Aoyama insists on taking him, including picking out his outfit and doing his makeup. It’s oddly intimate; Aoyama’s face is so close to Sero as he applies eyeliner that Sero can practically count each of Aoyama’s long lashes. His skin is flawless, too, and he smells like floral perfume.
“ Bon ,” Aoyama says with a smile when he’s done. “ Très joli .”
He then kisses Sero on the cheek, giggling when Sero sputters incoherently.
Everyone on the cast is such a catch, Sero is quickly realizing. Yet his heart only beats ridiculously fast whenever he speaks to or even looks at Todoroki, and he can’t help but gush to his journal about all the little things he’s discovering he loves about him– his quiet confidence, his strong work ethic, his subtle sense of humor. It’s hard to get one-on-one time with him, though, since he and Bakugou are still clearly the most popular out of everyone.
But maybe one of the producers is in Sero’s corner, because he suddenly finds himself with a golden opportunity to spend alone time with Todoroki.
“‘Congratulations on finishing your training,’” Kirishima reads from the living room tablet. “‘Today will be the grand opening of Plus Ultra . The first shift is assigned to Sero. Sero, please pick one member of the house to join you on your shift.’”
“Oooh,” Kaminari says with a cheeky grin. “The first date of the show!”
“It’s not a date,” Sero says, though it kind of absolutely is. He stands up from the couch and walks over to the wall where there is a shelf containing little placards with each of their names. He flips his own name, and then hesitates before flipping his potential work-mate’s.
“The suspense is killing me,” Shinsou drawls.
“Shut up,” Sero says with a nervous laugh.
“Hurry up, we all know you’re gonna pick half-and-half,” Bakugou complains.
Sero feels his face go bright red, but he doesn’t deny it. Finally, he picks up Todoroki’s placard and flips it. He turns around and forces himself to make eye contact with him; Todoroki looks mildly surprised.
“Todoroki,” Sero says, trying to ignore how much he’s suddenly sweating. “Will you work with me?”
Slowly, Todoroki nods.
Sero grins, and exhales a sigh in relief. “Cool. Cool. Great. Amazing.”
“Have a good shift!” Midoriya says enthusiastically.
“Thanks Midoriya,” Sero says, glad for the reminder that at least one of his castmates isn’t interested in Todoroki romantically. “I’m gonna get changed. I’ll meet you out front?”
Todoroki nods.
“No funny business in the truck!” Kaminari calls after them as they walk back to their rooms.
Sero comes to terms that he’ll probably have a red face for the rest of the day.
***
“Um, so,” Sero says awkwardly when Todoroki joins him outside on the driveway. He rubs the back of his neck. “I was born and raised in Tokyo, so I actually never learned how to drive? Like I’ve always just taken the train and bus everywhere? Sorry, I should have asked if you could drive, I know you’re from Tokyo too–”
“I can drive,” Todoroki says, and climbs into the truck.
“Oh! Great!” Sero scrambles after him and into the passenger seat. “I’d offer to pay for gas in exchange, but I guess production covers that fee.”
Todoroki shrugs, bored. He adjusts the side mirrors before turning on the engine and pulling out of the driveway.
“Want me to look up the route?” Sero asks. They’re supposed to park in a lot next to the beach and near some resorts popular with tourists.
“No need,” Todoroki says. “I looked it up before we left.”
“Ah, smart.”
The silence between them is tense and uncomfortable– or maybe that’s just Sero’s nerves. After a few minutes, he can’t stand it any longer and rambles about anything that comes into his mind since it doesn’t seem like Todoroki is interested in talking about himself. Sero comments how relieved he’d been when it turned out all their housemates are pretty hygienic and respectful of each other’s space, and that the casting director did a good job of finding a group of guys who get along well with minimal drama– at which point he remembers that a producer had taken him aside the other day and politely asked to not talk too much about the behind-the-scenes of the show in case it isolates the viewer, so he switches topics and talks about his work, and how he weirdly misses his coworkers at Aizawa’s cafe–
“Aizawa?” Todoroki interrupts suddenly, as they pull into the parking lot.
“Uh, yeah,” Sero nods. “He owns the cafe I work at. He’s a super cool dude.”
“Aizawa Shouta?” Todoroki clarifies.
“Yeah. You know him?”
“Yes. He was one of my mentors when I was in school.”
“Really? Huh. I had no idea! I guess that makes sense though. He totally has grumpy-but-secretly-loves-molding-the-youth teacher vibes.”
Todoroki’s lips twitch. “Yes.”
Sero grins, and wishes they could just keep driving and talking. But they’ve parked, and they have work to do.
“Hey, before we set up–” he says, and takes out the polaroid camera the producers gave them. They’re supposed to take photos at each shift. It’s pretty cute, in Sero’s opinion.
Outside of the truck, Sero stands behind Todoroki and loops an arm around his shoulders to take a selfie. “Cheese!”
After the flash goes off, they both lean over to watch the polaroid develop. Sero’s heart stops breathing for a moment when he realizes that in the photo, Todoroki hadn’t been looking into the camera but at Sero – and though he’s not quite smiling, his eyes are crinkled slightly as if he’s about to.
“Wow. Good photo.”
“I’m a professional model,” Todoroki reminds him, deadpan.
Sero cracks up. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, enough bragging, pretty boy. Let’s get to work!”
Todoroki attempts to glare at him, but the effect is somewhat lacking given the blush on his high cheekbones.
***
The shift gets off to a rocky start; Todoroki definitely doesn’t know what he’s doing. But he is receptive to Sero’s patient instructions and suggestions, and the customers find his lack of experience endearing. It probably also helps that he’s so gorgeous, but hey– a guy can’t get by on looks alone, and Sero notices that while awkward, Todoroki really is attentive, eager to prove himself, and intimidatingly intelligent. He’s making a real effort, and improving rapidly, but they both sort of have an unspoken agreement that at least for today, Sero will do most of the coffee-making and Todoroki will do most of the transactions.
While at this point it’s pretty clear that Todoroki isn’t exactly a people-person, it becomes readily apparent that he loves children, and children love him. He insists on giving a complimentary hot chocolate to each parent that comes to their truck– sugar and dairy-free, in case that’s their preference. It’s probably not the most lucrative business decision, but Sero believes it’s totally worth seeing the delight it brings everyone in the process.
They close up for the day just before golden hour. As Sero cleans up, Todoroki checks the till.
“We made just over 28,000 yen,” he says with a frown.
“That’s actually really good for our first time! Seriously,” Sero says, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m not like, a business expert like you or Aizawa, but I know from experience that it takes time as a new barista to get your sea legs– especially since people might not be even aware of our presence yet.”
Todoroki nods, his frown dissipating slightly. “I suppose you’re right.”
Sero squeezes his arm again before dropping his hand. “And like, I know this is technically a job, but it’s really just for fun, right? It’s a good opportunity for us to learn new skills, and get to know each other.”
Todoroki nods again. He looks at Sero, unblinking, his beautiful mismatched eyes sparkling in the orange light of the setting sun. “Thank you, Sero. I had a good time working with you today.”
Sero wants to hug Todoroki and spin him around. It’s a bad idea for a lot of reasons, one of which is the fact that they are in a tiny food truck full of expensive appliances. Instead, he smiles. “Me too, Roki.”
Todoroki looks at him strangely.
Uh oh. Too early for nicknames?
But then Todoroki sighs and looks out the window. “We should be getting back.”
***
By the time they arrive at the house, Sero is already missing his alone time with Todoroki. But it is nice to see their other castmates again, and tell them all about their first day working the coffee truck.
It’s a Monday, so Bakugou is off work and insists on making everyone dinner because according to him, they’re all clueless when it comes to cooking– even if he grunts in approval when everyone volunteers to help.
Sero feels like giggling like a lovestruck teenager when Todoroki chooses to sit next to him at the dining room table. He clinks their glasses of water together. “Good job today,” he says.
Todoroki clinks his glass back. “You too.”
Shinsou and Kaminari are on kitchen clean-up duty tonight, so Sero musters up courage and asks Todoroki if they can speak privately in the backyard while the others get ready for bed.
Todoroki tilts his head, confused, but agrees.
“So,” Sero says as they sit down in the lounge chairs. “I feel like it’s best to be direct, so um. I really like you, Todoroki. You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but I was hoping you’d consider dating me. I just… You’re so fun to be around, and so sweet, and I really want to get to know you better and– yeah,” he finishes lamely, blushing.
“Oh,” Todoroki says.
Sero laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
Todoroki looks down at his lap for a few painstakingly-long moments. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s fine!” Sero says, waving his hands hysterically. “I mean, obviously I’d love it if you ended up feeling the same way, but I’d also be very grateful to be just friends, too.”
“Friends?”
Sero nods. “Uh huh!”
Todoroki seems to mull this over, and nods back. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Sero grins. “Great!”
They talk for a few more minutes before heading back inside. Sero is still smiling and feeling giddy, and it isn’t until he’s laying in bed that he thinks: Oh shit. I’ve just been friend-zoned .
Hi ego? Bruised. His brain? Restless. His heart? Broken.
But at least he has come to this realization when the cameras are not on him, so he can cry in peace and in private.