Work Text:
“What. The fuck. Is going on up there,” Bakugo growled, his voice low in a way that Izuku knew too well meant he was seething, not calming down. He’d been shouting for most of the last half hour, but now he’d gone scarily quiet, and over a decade of experience told Izuku that the hothead was only seconds away from doing some serious damage to both the common room and, probably, his academic career.
“Kacchan, please,” he started, his voice high and plaintive. But before he could turn around to warn anybody, or make an ill-fated attempt at calming Bakugo down himself, Tsu was responding to him with her usual unassailable composure.
“Your things are going to be fine, Bakugo. I made sure of it,” she assured him, squeezing some of the water out of her hair over the kitchen sink. “Aizawa is still up there with the lady from maintenance, but it sounds like it could be a while. He told me he’d come down and give us an update as soon as he can, but also to let you all know that if we can make arrangements to stay in friends’ rooms, or the empty ones, that would probably be a good idea. He’ll try to get us sleeping pads and blankets and stuff from the supply room once things are sorted out upstairs.” She had an oversized novelty Mt. Lady beach towel wrapped around her shoulders, something someone had salvaged from the lost and found box in the basement, and a handful of tote bags clustered around her feet containing the books, electronics, and keepsakes that the students had been most concerned about. Being the best-suited to moving quickly and efficiently through a wet environment, she’d been the first to volunteer to head up to the fourth and fifth floors of the dorms and make sure that everything was as protected as possible. Yaomomo had supplied her with a large collection of plastic tarps, and Tsu had gotten everyone’s belongings covered up to the best of her ability.
Bakugo narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated, but even he had some limits, and apparently he wasn’t quite furious enough to shout at Tsu – the classmate who’d been, by far, the most helpful since the sprinklers had started to spray. Plus, Izuku reflected, it took an awful lot for anyone to really get angry with Tsu. “That still doesn’t answer my question,” Bakugo muttered through gritted teeth.
“We may not know for a while,” Yaomomo cut in, a rain jacket folded over her arm. She’d gone upstairs, too, but she’d been focussed on creating protection for everyone’s furniture, so Tsu had done most of the physical work. “From what I heard while I was up there, they’re not sure what set the sprinklers off, but they should be able to stop them soon. The bigger problem, for us, is that the maintenance staff want to figure out what’s wrong with them before they send us back up there. They can’t sleep half a class in bedrooms with faulty sprinklers – it’s way too big a liability issue.”
Kaminari, seated on the back of one of the couches, grimaced. “I still spark in my sleep sometimes,” he said, looking like it was just now occurring to him what a significant danger that might pose. “The last thing I want is to electrocute the entire dorm…”
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Iida assured him. “Besides, there are grounding rods installed in your bed for exactly that reason.”
Kaminari seemed confused by that statement, like this was the first he was hearing about the safety precautions in his room, and Izuku was about to ask how that could be when he noticed Ochaco beside him. Like the others who’d been in their rooms when the sprinklers had been triggered, she’d gotten a thorough soaking before she’d made it downstairs. Her clothes and hair had begun to dry in the last few minutes, but she was hugging her arms close around herself, her brows lowered and mouth screwed up in an uncomfortable frown.
Turning away from the larger conversation to face her, he reached forward, not quite making contact. “Are you cold?” he asked quietly, concerned.
She simply looked at him for a moment, like she was hesitant to admit it, then nodded. “Yeah,” she murmured back, making a face. “Standing around in wet pyjamas isn’t exactly pleasant.”
Izuku nodded, sympathetic. Ashido, Sero, and Kirishima had all headed straight to the showers, eager to get out of their sodden clothes, while Hagakure had kindly volunteered to take a trip down to the laundry on their behalf. But Ochaco had simply shrugged and said that standing under a different spray of water didn’t strike her as the most appealing solution just then. “Why don’t you come up to my room?” he offered, without really thinking about it. “It’s close by. I’m sure I’ve got some sweats or something that would fit you, and I know I’ve got spare blankets.”
“Uh.” She blinked at him in surprise. “I-I mean– that’s okay, Deku, you don’t have to–”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “No, there’s no reason for you to just stand around all damp and cold. Come on, lemme help.”
Ochaco chewed her lip, rubbing at her bare arms, before finally relenting. “Yeah, okay,” she agreed, her eyes focussed somewhere on the floor now. “I guess it would feel good to get into something dry.”
“That’s kinda what I thought,” he agreed, offering her a warm smile now. He waved a hand towards the elevator, and she followed him up to his bedroom on the second floor, leaving their classmates to sort out sleeping arrangements without them.
Izuku spent a minute or two digging through his drawers for a pair of track pants he knew were a bit too short for him these days, then produced a t-shirt and a cozy fleece hoodie to go with them. It was only when he turned to hand them to her that he realised that changing clothes necessarily meant disrobing, first, and he felt his cheeks redden as he hurried out the door and pulled it closed behind him. He swayed on his feet out in the hallway, rolling from heel to toe and back again, now studiously avoiding the thought of what was happening inside his room.
“U-um – I’m good,” Ochaco’s voice came after a few moments, accompanied by the sound of the door opening. “Thank you, Deku. I feel a lot better.”
“No problem,” he answered, swinging around as he did so. The last syllable turned into more of a squeak when he caught sight of her.
It hadn’t really occurred to him to think this far ahead, and so it hadn’t so much as crossed his mind how it would feel to see Ochaco dressed in his clothes. In particular, the hoodie: leftover from his one-semester stint on the trivia team in his final year of junior high, it had his name embroidered in small, neat characters across the upper left chest: Midoriya. For some reason, he found himself staring at that, feeling his face flush anew.
“Um… Deku?” Ochaco asked after a long moment.
His gaze snapped up to her puzzled expression, and somewhere in the back of his head he knew he was being weird, but his whole brain had ground to a halt. “You look way cuter in that than I ever did,” he blurted, then began to laugh nervously, a warm tingling in his ears alerting him that the blush was spreading even further. What was he doing.
Now she was turning red as well. “You– you’re a dork,” she told him, giggling awkwardly. He could’ve kicked himself. Then she stepped back from the door and turned to scoop her wet pyjamas up off the floor. “I should– I should probably get out of your way. I’ll take these down to the laundry room.”
“You’re not in my way!” Izuku insisted, automatically. He offered her a big, still-nervous grin when she glanced at him, and then he slipped back into the room and turned towards his closet. “And, uh, I kinda need to do laundry, too, actually. Do you want to throw those in here? No sense wasting a whole wash cycle on just your PJs.” He held his hamper out towards her.
Again Ochaco seemed momentarily taken aback, but then she softened a bit, and it struck him that her gentle smile looked even prettier when her cheeks were pink. Half to distract himself from that train of thought, and half because some small part of his brain was still capable of useful observation, he cast around the room for a moment before spotting his hairbrush on the corner of his desk. “Here,” he offered, grabbing for it as she dropped her pyjamas on top of the rest of his laundry. “If you want. Everyone got a little messy in all the commotion.”
“Thanks,” she said again, quieter now. After a quick glance around, she perched carefully on the very edge of his bed and began to brush out her hair. Izuku stared for just a moment before he caught himself, jerking back to life and returning to his closet to pull out the blanket he’d promised her. It was a soft little throw blanket he’d had around for years – an All Might print, of course; a limited-edition run they’d done as a promotion to go with his interview in Kids’ Hero magazine when Izuku was nine. He’d convinced his mother to stand in line with him for two hours before the mall opened one early Saturday morning just to make sure he got one. Now he unfolded it with a little smile on his face before turning and shaking it out, tossing it around Ochaco’s shoulders. “There you go,” he said warmly, his embarrassment temporarily forgotten as he sat down in his desk chair to face her.
Putting down the hairbrush, Ochaco giggled slightly. “I’m gonna overheat now, Deku,” she pointed out.
“Ah… sorry.” He grinned, sheepish. “I was just trying to be helpful…”
“You’re always trying to be helpful,” she sighed, shaking her head a little. She shrugged the blanket away from her shoulders, but didn’t move it any further when it simply gathered around her arms. “It’s nice, though. It’s sweet.”
Izuku laughed slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. It was funny, he reflected – normally he was really comfortable with Ochaco, but sometimes he felt himself suddenly tripping over his every action. Usually when he thought too much about things. But he couldn’t help it, really; he’d never been this close with a female friend before he met her. And certainly not one as cute as she was…
Now there was a subject he’d been trying not to give too much consideration, lately.
“This is really comfy,” Ochaco said softly, interrupting his train of thought just in time. She was looking down, fingering the cuff of one sleeve. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it.”
“I never really do, to be honest,” he answered with a one-shouldered shrug. “I was only on the trivia team for a little while, because my teacher thought more extracurriculars would look good on my application for UA. It’s too nice a sweatshirt to throw out, but it usually stays in the bottom of my drawer, I guess.”
“Trivia team seems like a good fit for you,” she mused, smiling again as she snuggled into the fleece. “Well, it’s your loss. I’m not sure if I want to give it back.”
“Y-you can have it, if you want,” he heard himself tell her, and then he clamped his mouth shut, feeling the blood once again rushing to his cheeks.
“What?” She looked up at him sharply, startled and blushing to mirror him. “I was joking, Deku! It– it has your name on it!”
“…Yyyyyyes it does,” Izuku agreed, hating the way his voice squeaked. “But, uh, the offer– the offer still stands. Like I said, I-I never wear it.” He could feel himself sweating now. For a guy who spent way too much time in his head, he was atrocious at thinking before he spoke, sometimes. Where did he think he was taking this?
Ochaco was growing more flustered by the second, waving her hands in front of her. “I-I-I mean, that’s really sweet of you, Deku, but like– your name– I mean, people would think–” She started to tug awkwardly at the hem. “I-in fact, I should probably just give this back to you now–”
“N-no, hang onto it!” he objected quickly, starting to stand up. “I-I’m– I didn’t mean to embarrass you! Forget I said anything. But you were cold, and the whole dorm is kinda cool overnight lately, so please at least keep it for the night!”
She slowed to a pause, the bottom of the hoodie pulled partway up her stomach to reveal his t-shirt underneath it, and tentatively met his eye. Her face was at least as red as his own felt, and her lips were sucked in like she was holding her breath, and for a second or so they just stared at each other. “…You just can’t help it, can you,” she said in a small voice.
“I… can’t help what?”
“Being so nice all the time,” she mumbled, letting go of the sweatshirt’s hem and wrapping her arms self-consciously around herself instead. “So much it’s kind of ridiculous.”
“I-I mean…” Taken aback, Izuku sank back into his chair. “O-of course I’m nice to you. I like you.” Her eyes widened a little, and now it was his turn to start waving his hands around. “I mean–!”
“Dekuuuuu,” she groaned, suddenly pulling the blanket he’d given her up her back and over her head, half-hiding her face. “Y-you’re just–! Too much, you dork!” Suddenly she stood up, tugging the blanket back just far enough to see but swinging towards his door at the same time so he didn’t get the chance to look her in the eye. “I’m gonna go back downstairs and see what people have figured out for sleeping tonight!”
Izuku watched her, face burning, as she shuffled hurriedly out of his bedroom and into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind her. He could hear her footsteps retreating, and it was only when she must have been just about to reach the elevator that he managed to leap up out of his chair and follow her. “Uraraka, wait!” he squawked, though he still wasn’t altogether sure what he was going to say when he caught up with her.
She paused, only steps from the elevator doors, and then swung around and shuffled back. Her face was still downcast, but she raised her eyes just enough to peer at him from beneath the edge of his blanket. He took a step closer, still uncertain. “Uraraka, I’m really sorry–”
“Ochaco,” she corrected him quietly.
He blinked. “…What?”
She sighed, obviously still embarrassed, but she cleared her throat slightly and said a little louder, “It’s been more than long enough. You should call me Ochaco. A-and, you don’t have to apologise for anything.” She sounded somehow both resolute and nervous.
“O-oh.” Izuku swallowed. He didn’t think he even completely knew what was happening any more, but he didn’t want to leave anything hanging, where it might make things weird later. “Well, I– I just. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to help…”
And then Ochaco smiled a little bit, her brows furrowed. “I know, Deku. And I really do appreciate that.”
“O-okay. Okay, yeah. Good.”
Ochaco’s smile grew a bit, and then she nodded and turned toward the elevator again. As she pressed the button to go down, Izuku stammered, “O-Ochaco.” He didn’t know why; it wasn’t like he had any more idea what to say to her now than he’d had a moment ago.
The doors slid open, and she turned to face him as she stepped in. “I, um… I might just have to steal this hoodie after all,” she told him, still blushing but grinning, now, too.
Izuku’s heart sped up in his chest as the elevator door closed and Ochaco disappeared from view.