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Todoroki Shouto has made a fair number of mistakes in his life. There was the time he offered to take a look at Yaoyorozu’s weirdly leaky pipe despite having next to no knowledge of plumbing and ended up washing fluorescent slime out of his hair for the next week. There was the time he let Kaminari make him a Grindr profile. There was even the unspeakably cursed affair involving Uraraka, anonymously solicited foot pics, and a lemon meringue pie. (That one still makes him shudder to think about.) However, no prior mistake over the course of his spectacularly eventful lifetime could have prepared him for this.
“Hey, panini head! Are you listening to me?”
Internet-famous celebrity chef Bakugou Katsuki picks up a silicone spatula from the demo cart and whacks Todoroki on the forearm.
“Not really,” says Todoroki honestly.
“Then how do you expect to fucking learn anything?” Bakugou puts down the spatula and grabs a pair of tongs instead.
“I hope you’re not thinking of weaponizing those,” Todoroki tells him.
“Next time.” Bakugou reaches his left arm elbow deep into a wooden bowl full of fresh arugula and emerges with one menacingly green fistful. “Today, we learn how to toss a damn salad.”
Does a bowl full of only arugula constitute a salad? Todoroki realizes he must have asked this out loud when Bakugou fixes him with a withering look.
“It’s a start, you useless slab of peppermint brittle,” says Bakugou.
Huh. Todoroki’s never been referred to as peppermint brittle before. He has to award a few extra creativity points for that one. Perhaps these upcoming few months will not be as terrible as he had thought.
-
It began like this:
“You mean you really can't even cook ramen?” asks Midoriya, incredulous.
“I haven't succeeded as of yet,” is what Todoroki gives in answer.
“That can't be true.” Midoriya is up in an instant, tugging Todoroki cheerfully along behind him. “It’s the easiest thing in the world, you'll see.”
Half an hour later, after Midoriya has managed to get the smoke detector to stop crying bloody murder, he puts his hands on his hips and regards the sad, soggy black mush puddled in Todoroki’s bowl.
“Well, this is…”
Todoroki waits.
After an empty minute passes, Midoriya gives up. “I’m gonna be honest with you, Todoroki-kun. I didn't know it was possible for a human being to be such a disaster in the kitchen.”
“You learn something new every day,” replies Todoroki mildly.
“Hmm.” Midoriya regards the vaguely poisonous looking concoction a while longer, then brightens. “I know what we can do!”
“Hit me.”
“You’ve heard of Bakugou Katsuki, right?” Midoriya asks, pulling out his phone and starting to tap furiously.
“No, I can't say I have.”
“Oh?” Midoriya looks up. “He's everywhere these days, though. Big name celeb chef. Anyway, he’s a great cook and a childhood friend of mine, and it just so happens that he’s started giving out cooking advice on Twitter for struggling novices. Maybe he can offer some constructive criticism!”
@midoriyaizu: Hi @realbakugoukatsuki it's me!! Deku :D I was wondering if you could please give my friend some tips on his ramen? He tried his best ^^
He attaches a picture of the scorched, pulverized mess and hits Send Tweet with an unjustified amount of confidence. Not even an hour later, they receive a reply.
@realbakugoukatsuki: @midoriyaizu Why did you tweet me a photo of dog shit Deku
The tweet goes viral, because such is the nature of Todoroki’s life. It amasses dozens of thousands of retweets and likes in under a day, makes the Twitter Moments page, and earns Todoroki several lmfaooo-ridden texts of congratulations. And then, due to both Midoriya’s personal connection to esteemed chef Bakugou and the degree of pure insult Todoroki had inflicted upon his culinarily elite eyes, he is somehow coerced into a series of cooking lessons from the man himself.
Todoroki thinks it's supposed to be an honor, or at least a fun marketing gimmick, but the only thing it feels like is a waste of his Sundays. He has events to stay home from! Bad Hallmark movies to marathon! A cat to be ignored by!
“At least you’ll get to eat free, good food at the end of each session,” says Kaminari with his mouth full of stale Cinnamon Toast Crunch (no milk). Todoroki is not enthused.
-
Midoriya sits in on their first session. Chef Bakugou Katsuki storms in with zero preamble, fastens his apron around his Barbie-narrow waist punishingly tight, and glares at Midoriya without even glancing in Todoroki’s general direction. “Tell me that he can at least use a fucking rice cooker.”
“Haha, of course he can—” Midoriya stops in his tracks. “Todoroki-kun, what was that sound?”
Todoroki turns around from where he’d been fumbling to get the rice cooker’s plug into an outlet. Said rice cooker smolders faintly on the counter, filling Bakugou’s immaculate kitchen with the smell of melted wiring. “I think I blew it up.” The string of expletives that Bakugou releases afterwards is rather dazzling.
Midoriya declines to sit in on later sessions, backing away slowly with an encouraging smile fixed in place over his mouth and both thumbs up. It’s probably for the better, because the second time Bakugou and Todoroki get together, aprons are caught in the food processor, then sleeves, and in the end, they are both fortunate to escape with all fingers still attached to their bodies. The third time, Bakugou strips it back to the most basic of basics.
“This is how you crack an egg,” he says, demonstrating the technique with an air of easy grace no less than six times. “Got it?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Todoroki picks up an egg of his own and positions his arm over the edge of the bowl like he'd seen Bakugou do. The egg shatters spontaneously in his hand. Bits of shell go flying in all directions, the gooey raw white part drips down over Todoroki’s twitching fingers, and the yolk somehow ends up in Bakugou’s hair. Todoroki watches as it slides down over his forehead, then over his cheek, and plops to a rest on his shoulder.
Bakugou is quiet for a few moments. His face turns redder than Todoroki has ever seen human skin. He closely resembles the sentient tomato from Veggie Tales, but Todoroki is wise enough to withhold this particular piece of information.
“It’s sort of impressive," says Bakugou finally, “how much of a fucking menace you are.” Is that grudging respect in his tone? Todoroki must alleviate this immediately.
“You look like the Veggie Tales tomato,” he responds eloquently, then smiles as Bakugou emits a furious HAAAAH? and a wave of fresh curses. It's becoming something of a weekly ritual, now.
-
Todoroki is not the luckiest man in the world, as exemplified by his disastrous relationship with the Internet’s favorite chef and kitchen utensils in general, but he is fortunate enough to have access to fresh produce and dairy. Considering that his previous lifestyle had been characterized solely by breaking his budget through eating out, though, he's never had reason to take advantage of it. That is, until now.
“Thanks for letting me come visit, Iida,” he says.
“No problem!” Iida, who is a friend of a friend and barrel-chested and also an independent organic farmer, slaps him heartily on the back.
“Ow.”
“I apologize!” booms Iida just as genially. Todoroki rubs at his sore back and tells him it's fine. It really is. He’s not here to complain about Iida’s enthusiasm. He’s here to nab some cage-free, non-GMO, farm fresh eggs, which he will use to perfect his cracking technique until Bakugou has no choice but to accept defeat.
When Iida meanders back towards the farmhouse to fix the two of them some terribly watery lemonade, Todoroki eyes the chicken coop and dusts off his hands. Time to get busy.
-
midoriya
Hi Todoroki-kun!! Are you having a clucking good time?? ;))
todoroki
I think this hen just challenged me to a duel
midoriya
Huh ?
todoroki
it approached me squawking very angrily
tch
I’ll show it who’s boss
midoriya
Did you actually just type out the word tch
todoroki
yes and I am winning this fight
midoriya
Please do not tell me you are using violence against Iida’s prize chickens
todoroki
well I was going to but if you don't want to hear about it that's fine too I guess
-
“Todoroki is a rotten egg thief,” sings Kaminari a couple weeks later. He's eating their cereal again. Who keeps inviting him over?
“The eggs weren't rotten,” defends Todoroki.
“No, it's you. You're rotten. Because of your dastardly bandit tendencies,” Kaminari explains. He is spewing cinnamon and sugar everywhere.
Todoroki has never been called dastardly before. He kind of likes it. He decides to rank this right behind Bakugou’s label of “peppermint brittle” on his mental list of Top 10 Self-Descriptors to Use on Your Resume.
“Hey, do you hear something?”
“I hear you,” says Todoroki. “Sometimes, I wish I didn't.”
“That's cold, bro. But no, I mean from down the hall. Like, your guest room.”
Gamely, Todoroki leaves the kitchen and ventures down the hall to investigate. He does start to hear something. Cheeping? Inside the guest room, he bumps into Midoriya, who is standing in the doorway like he's spotted a ghost. “Do you see them, too?” he asks.
Todoroki cranes his neck. Oh. Yes, he sees them. In a box on top of the bed is a litter of freshly hatched baby chicks. He’d forgotten about the extra basket of eggs blatantly stolen off Iida’s property. Apparently, they were fertilized and well on their way to hatching already, because the chicks in the box look very much healthy and alive. The broken A.C. must have created the perfect temperature to incubate them.
“Yo, are those chicks?” crows Kaminari, appearing behind them. “Probably the only ones that Todoroki’s ever gonna get, am I right?”
Todoroki ignores him. There is only one thing to do now. He rolls up his sleeves and strides confidently towards the bed.
That is how Bakugou finds him surrounded by a horde of tiny chicken babies several minutes later when he enters the apartment with an unnecessarily loud bang.
“Hey, half and half panini head, are you ready to make a fucking omele—” Bakugou drops his grocery bag. “What is this.”
“Shh. I think they’re imprinting on me,” says Todoroki.
“This is not what I was anticipating when you told me to come over to your place this time.”
Todoroki looks at him curiously. “What were you anticipating?”
Bakugou flushes Veggie Tales red. “Never fucking mind,” he snaps.
“Okay,” says Todoroki. “Wanna hold one?”
Bakugou makes a face of abject disapproval but takes a step closer anyway. He stretches out cupped hands and Todoroki scoops up a chick to place in them. They sit in silence except for the sound of the chicks chirping. Tentatively, Bakugou runs a finger over the head of the one nestling into the crook of his elbow.
“Aren’t they cute?” asks Todoroki like he wasn't originally planning to crack open and scramble each one with sausages.
“I guess.” The chick cuddles into the valley between Bakugou’s ample pecs. “In the Philippines, fertilized duck embryos are traditionally poached and served as a hangover cure,” he says conversationally.
Todoroki regards the chicks. “I think it's probably too late for that.”
“I know, dumbass. These are also not fucking ducks.”
“Then why’d you bring it up?”
“Forget it.” Bakugou closes his eyes and leans back against the guest bed. He looks less like an enraged beetroot with his face slack like this.
“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt the moment or whatever, but you’re out of cereal,” says Kaminari, poking his head around the corner.
“Then perish,” answers Bakugou without so much as fluttering his eyelids.
-
@chargeboltdenki: yooo @realbakugoukatsuki got a second to critique my friend’s homemade pie? [file666.png]
@realbakugoukatsuki: @chargeboltdenki Are those somebody's fucking toes in the meringue ?
@midoriyaizu: omfg @chargeboltdenki delete that before todoroki-kun wakes up we promised we would never speak of this again
-
@uwuraraka: OOMF………….
-
Because Todoroki is a morally sound and upstanding citizen, he decides to return Iida’s eggs back to where they came from. They are not exactly eggs anymore, but that is besides the point.
“Partners, it seems like we are mighty low on the eggs this month,” he hears Iida saying as he approaches the farmhouse. The box in his hands releases a series of chirps as if in answer.
“Oh! Howdy,” greets Iida in his typical auction-announcer boom when he catches sight of Todoroki. “What brings you ‘round these parts again?”
Todoroki steps very delicately onto the farmhouse patio and puts down the box, then removes the towel that he had been using to cover the top. Iida gawks at the assortment of moderately grown chicks inside. And then he yodels.
From somewhere across the fields comes an answering yodel, identical in pitch and tone.
“What was that?” asks Todoroki.
“Oh, that's Hagakure, our best farmhand.” Iida gestures in the direction of the fields, where Todoroki sees absolutely no one.
“She's a ghost?”
“Of course not. She's just invisible.”
Todoroki looks at the rows of soybeans in the distance, notably bare of human life, then at Iida, who is maintaining very sincere eye contact. “Sure,” he acquiesces finally.
Unfortunately, it appears that all the yodeling has spooked the chicks, because several of them screech in distress and promptly shit all over Todoroki’s cowboy boots.
“Those were new,” he laments.
Iida shrugs his mountainous shoulders and tips his ten-gallon hat. “What comes around, goes around, partner.”
-
And, well, farmer Iida is right. Todoroki gets his shitty comeuppance, and then life goes on.
Bakugou keeps coming around even after the promotional stunt or whatever is slated to end. More often, though, it's Todoroki who comes over. He’s picked up a few things over the months, but he still prefers to get a free, hot meal when he can. Truth be told, he is not quite sure of the reason why Bakugou lets him mooch like this.
“Isn't it obvious? Kacchan likes you!” announces Midoriya. “You must have grown on him despite your challenges in the kitchen.”
“Like mold,” contributes Kaminari. “Or maybe a lichen. Those are pretty cool.”
No, that doesn't sound right.
“Bakugou Katsuki can't like me,” insists Todoroki. “I compare him to that allegorical children’s TV show about religion constantly.”
“Veggie Tales?” asks Midoriya, surprised.
“Dude,” says Kaminari, leaning in conspiratorially. “Don't you get it? Bakugou is a chef. Food is his life. The fact that you've been comparing him to a veggie this entire time probably tickled his pickle just right.”
“First of all,” Todoroki tells him, “please refrain from saying that ever again. Second of all, even if that was true, how would I know for sure?”
Midoriya appears contemplative for a moment. “Well, county fair day’s coming up this weekend. You could invite him to go with you and ask him in person then. You'll be surrounded by the smell of frying bacon. What's more romantic than that?”
That sounds reasonable. Midoriya always was a lot better than him at this whole flirting thing.
“Okay, I'll ask him.”
“Great!”
“We’re so proud of you, dude.”
Todoroki’s phone rings. “Wait, let me take this. Hello?”
“Howdy!” comes Iida’s resounding voice over the line. “I was fixing to ask if you did a proper headcount of the chicks you returned? Seems we’re a couple short.”
Todoroki thinks about the scrambled eggs those chicks had become. They were pretty tasty.
“Sorry,” he tells Iida, reaching over to grab the grocery list Kaminari is in the process of writing and crinkling it aggressively next to the receiver of the phone. “You're breaking up. Let me call you back when the reception is better.” He smashes the end call button with a sense of urgency.
“Hey, I was writing on that,” complains Kaminari.
Todoroki smooths it out on the kitchen table. “All this says is, ‘Apples, bananas, oranges, pears. Bakubro so thicc, oatmeal better beware.’”
“Exactly,” sniffs Kaminari. “It was important.”
-
Bakugou accepts Todoroki’s fair day invitation. They wander together from stall to stall for a while, sampling the assortment of fried foods. Todoroki more or less likes everything, while Bakugou takes great pleasure in spitting each greasy bite into a napkin and dragging the vendors to hell and back.
“What is this? Fucking butter fried in butter?” he gripes after a few stops.
Todoroki chews thoughtfully. “I think it's pretty okay.”
“Your tastebuds are absolute shit,” asserts Bakugou with a scowl.
“That might explain why I like your food so much,” Todoroki retaliates, smiling when Bakugou immediately growls and lunges at him. He knows which way to dodge by now.
“Hey, look. They're having an animal rearing contest,” Todoroki says suddenly. “Like, prize beef and all that. They're crowning a winner for best meat.”
“My meat is goddamn unsurpassable,” says Bakugou in a snippier tone than is needed. Todoroki is inclined to agree until he catches sight of perhaps the beefiest being he has ever witnessed walking the mortal plane. And that's saying a lot, because he's met Iida.
“I think his meat reigns superior." Todoroki points so that Bakugou can see. He is not expecting Bakugou’s jaw to drop.
“Jesus fucking—that's not just any prize cattle. That's the literal god of beef.”
“Huh?” Todoroki waits for the muscular man to turn around, curious now for a glance of his face. Just who is this force of nature powerful enough to leave even Bakugou practically quaking in his boots?
When the man finally swivels, Todoroki’s breath catches in his throat. Those cheekbones! That jaw! The pair of distinctly roachlike antennae protruding from the top of his head!
“It’s the Sheriff,” he whispers.
Bakugou nods solemnly. “The one and only. Y’all Might.”
Todoroki whirls around and clasps both Bakugou’s hands in his own. It feels weird. He doesn't really have any idea what he's doing, but it would be near sacrilegious for him to not interpret the sighting of such a fabled deity as a good omen.
“Bakugou,” he begins. “We haven't known each other that long. I pissed you off greatly when we first met, and I continue to do so with pleasure. However, you mostly stick around. Does this or does this not indicate a potential for courtship?” He takes a breath. “Midoriya and Kaminari said yes, but I don't trust them.”
“You trust me, panini head?” asks Bakugou, looking amused. “Dumbass move.” Todoroki notes that he has not yet pulled away.
“No, but I trust in the power of Y’all Might to seize control of my future in this moment.”
Bakugou snorts. “That's poetic. Sure, I guess there's potential somewhere. I haven't kicked you to the curb yet, after all.”
“That would be hurtful if I were anybody else."
“Good thing you're not, then.” Bakugou is still allowing Todoroki to hold his hands. It's getting sort of gross because of the way his palms sweat profusely.
Todoroki pulls away to wipe his hands on his shorts, making no effort to conceal the motion. "Yeah. That's all I needed to hear."