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Christmas break came and went as it always did, too fast and too busy. Ochako’s weekend had been a blur of family, hugs, kisses, alcohol (just a little, her father had said), and presents.
So many presents.
New shoes.
A necklace her mother had made for her with a pink stone.
Books.
Earrings.
Mochi.
Chocolates.
Apparently, it had been a good year for business because not only did she receive more gifts than she had in recent memory, for both Christmas and her birthday, her father passed her an envelope before she stepped onto the train to head back to UA the day after Christmas. She opened it and looked up wide-eyed and panicked and immediately moved to shove the envelope back toward him.
“Daddy,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “I…I don’t need this. I’m doing fine! My work-study is…”
He shook his head adamantly and pushed the envelope back into her chest. “That is your work-study money, ‘Chako! We’ve been setting that money aside so we could give it back to you.”
Ochako’s palms were starting to sweat, holding the envelope stuffed with yen notes, a small panic stirring in her stomach. “Daddy, I wanna help, it’s why I want to…”
“I know that, Sweet Pea,” he said, his own eyes shining with emotion as she cupped her cheek affectionately. “I know! And you have helped. But business has been good lately, and you’re coming up on the end of 3rd year, and you’ll be looking at getting your own place soon, and you should be keeping some of this money for yourself. Or…” he winked down at her. “Spend it on something you actually want , Ochako!”
She shook her head again, weaker this time. Her parents had already showered her with gifts this year. She had accepted them with 90% gratitude and 10% anxiety (an improvement as far as she was concerned), but now this?
“Daddy I…”
Her last objection was interrupted as her dad pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug and kissed her on the top of her head. “Ain’t hearin’ another word about it, Chako.” She sighed in resignation and hugged him tight in return. “You’re such a good daughter, Ochako; your ma and I couldn’t ask for a better child to her parents, but you need to remember to give some of that love and generosity back to yourself sometimes.”
She was struck by those words, again.
Not a far cry from the words Bakugo had spoken at her a few weeks ago, less shouty and sweeter for sure, but they were similar in intent, and once again, she found herself wondering if it was something that was holding her back. She had certainly grown in her confidence as a hero over the past three years; she finally had started to feel like she wasn’t an imposter who had somehow fooled her way into a program that was beyond her. But still- her- her as a person- she still thought of herself in many ways as the same ol’ Uraraka, with the accent she hides when she wants to be taken seriously, the one who can make-do with outfits she had started to outgrow a year ago and food that was slightly past the expiration date.
She didn’t need gifts.
Or nice things.
Or fancy things.
And, generally, she didn’t think of that as a bad thing. But now, sitting on the train, watching the rolling countryside pass her by, she wondered if it was something bigger that she needed to deal with. She held her backpack close, pressing her hand instinctively over the pocket where she had secured the envelope of money.
She very much doubted she would ever grow out of the Ochako who bargain shopped and clipped coupons- she actually liked that girl and didn’t see any reason why she should bid her farewell.
But maybe…
Maybe she should take Bakugo’s advice; her father’s advice.
Maybe she could stand to start seeing herself a little different- as someone who deserved all she had worked her ass off for, as someone who deserved something nice on occasion when she could do so wisely and responsibly, as someone who deserved more than she usually allowed herself.
She had forgotten, as she often did, her momentary bravery when she had overheard Bakugo stomping through the dorms demanding people take one of the kids from the giving tree (the director at the center had been completely baffled and, Ochako discovered, had no idea where the gifts had come from, which did not surprise Ochako, her imagination of Santa Bakugo was that he checked thoroughly to make sure NO ONE saw him and then tossed the bag of presents and booked it out of there). When she saw him again, she had done what she always did, talked herself out of it, reminded herself of who he was ( future number one hero ) and who she was ( just…Ochako ).
Just…Ochako.
But her parents didn’t see her that way.
And neither did Bakugo.
Maybe that counted for something?
###
Katsuki really needed to stop eavesdropping.
It had gotten him into too much trouble over the past few days. It had gotten him into a fucking Santa suit, which inexplicably led to him shouting at the girl he was low-key into while she was dressed like a damn elf; not to mention, somehow, that eavesdropping had him secretly delivering gifts an hour after his last final.
So, really he needed to stop eavesdropping. But he had heard her name, and his damn traitorous ears perked up on their own; he sunk into his chair, pretending to be completely separate from the group gathered around the table.
Ashido had at first “gathered” her assembly of idiots with the purpose of planning their ridiculously obnoxious and over-the-top news years party, and it seemed like they were dead set on outdoing themselves this year.
And while a part of him found that stupid, there was another part of them that internally indulged the desire- it was their last year after all. But in general, that had been of no interest to him until he heard Ashido mention Uraraka.
The source of much of his holiday angst this year, who happened to take up a surprising amount of brain space over the last few days. At least when finals were over, and he had brain space to spare. Well, to be fair, it shouldn’t be surprising; she had been taking up a fair amount of space in his brain for a few months now- worming her way in like a fucking parasite.
A parasite who decided to just spread out and take up all the space it wanted.
Damn her.
“Okay, now about Ochako’s birthday party…”
“I thought this was about New Year,” said Ponytail, looking down at her notebook where she had been diligently taking notes.
“It is,” she said, rubbing her hands together excitedly. “And about our sweet, Chako baby’s 18th year on earth. She had to work on her birthday, so we have to do something extra special for her! So I say we combine her birthday with our New Year’s Eve party!” She drummed her hands on the desk in excitement, waiting for her enthusiasm to spread to her fellow party-planners.
Sounded like a good enough idea to Katsuki.
“You sure,” asked Pikachu. “You know Uraraka is kind of weird about people make a big fuss over her.”
“Which is exactly why we have to do it,” exclaimed Shitty Hair. “This is our last chance to spoil her! God knows where she’s going to end up after UA- she’s a rescue hero with combat training, she’ll be in high demand and will have her pick of agencies surrounded by a bunch of heathens who won’t appreciate her and make sure she’s well-fed.”
For some reason, Katsuki really hated the thought of that, but Pinky wasn’t wrong. Many of them would be going their separate ways soon, and the chances of all of them staying in Japan seemed unlikely; staying in the same city seemed even more unlikely. But the thought of her being so far away that he wouldn’t get to see her smile or hear her laugh whenever he wanted…well, that was irritating as fuck.
“Plus,” Ashido continued, wiggling her shoulders. “Ochako is excited! She even bought herself a sexy little dress for the New Year’s Eve party! She said it was her birthday present to herself!”
“It is quite fetching,” said Ponytail with a happy nod. “Very flattering!”
“It’s hot…” said Jirou, nudging her girlfriend. “You can say it’s hot.”
Ponytail blushed like she very well could NOT say that.
“Wait,” said Shitty Hair, looking at Ashido in distress. “Was I supposed to get a new outfit?”
“No,” said Pinky, patting his arm. “I’m sure you already have something, but Ochako hasn’t bought a new dress in the whole three years I’ve known her.”
“Well,” said Shitty Hair. “Did you buy a new dress?”
“Of course I did,” she exclaimed. “And you…” she said with a flirty little wink. “…are going to love it.”
Shitty Hair wiggled with excitement, draping his arm over her shoulder. “I’m sure I will,” he returned, in an equally gross lovey-dovey voice that made Katsuki want to barf.
Ugh- kill him now .
So he could get away from their antics and also so he could stop imagining what Uraraka’s dress might look like. He was used to seeing her kick ass in that skin-tight suit, which was sexy all on its own and had fueled more than one adolescent fantasy his first year and a half at UA. God, how was he gonna survive seeing her in a sexy dress when the elf outfit had almost done him in?
He…he just wouldn’t go.
He would just stay in his room and hide there and wonder what she was wearing and- maybe scope out Pinky’s social media- see if any pictures of her happen to get included…you know- normal shit.
“We can get Sato to bake her a cake,” declared Pikachu.
“With little planets and stars on them,” said Ashido, almost rising out of her chair in excitement.
“Oh my gosh, a whole galaxy-themed New Year’s party,” Shitty Hair shouted, banging excitedly on the table. “She’ll freakin’ love it!”
“That is actually an excellent idea,” said Ponytail, writing in her notebook. “This will influence the kind of decorations I’ll be creating, so it’s good to nail this down now.”
“Ooh Ooh Oooh…” Shitty Hair started hitting Pikachu like an excited labradoodle. “We should get one of those starcaster light things so when we turn off the lights, it makes stars all across the ceiling!”
Or just take her to the roof for the real thing, thought Katsuki grumpily.
“Great idea,” said Ashido. “It’s perfect!”
Katsuki assumed the rest of it was party planning, and he had no interest in that- he was sure Cheeks would love whatever cheesy party they came up with her. He was sure she would just be thrilled that they thought of her at all (which was dumb; she should expect that, because if Katsuki Fucking Bakugo was thinking about her, then no doubt some other extras were…which sent him down another spiral entirely because he certainly didn’t want to think about other people thinking about her!).
And then he heard his name.
“And now, since it’s a birthday party for our favorite mochi-cheeked badass, Bakugo will actually come this year!”
He stood up, his book falling gracelessly to the floor as he reared on them to find Racoon-Eyes looking at him with a mischievous glint in her. Kirishima looked like he was slightly panicked, gaze ping-ponging between his pink-haired girlfriend and Katsuki, who was a hairsbreadth away from losing his shit entirely.
“The fuck did you just say, Pinky?”
“Ha,” she exclaimed, pointing at him victoriously. “I knew you were listening.”
“Yeah,” he barked, baring his teeth and clenching his fists tight to keep any wayward explosions at bay. He had yet to cause any major property damage this year, and he would like to keep it that way. “Because you morons talk loud enough to wake the fucking dead.”
He bent to pick up his book and gather his shit up. “So are you coming?!”
“No,” he yelled.
“Are you sure?” sang Racoon-Eyes. “You don’t want to disappoint Ochako.”
Katsuki reared on the group of party-planners, his concerns about property damage suddenly cast aside as he looked between Shitty Hair (that traitor) and Racoon-Eyes. Kiri was supposed to be the only one who had any idea!
“Wait,” said Dunce Face, looking around the table, confused. “Why would that disappoint Uraraka?”
Racoon-Eyes held Katsuki's gaze for a long moment, arms crossed stubbornly, a knowing look in her eyes, telling Katsuki all he needed to know. She knew! And she was all but telling him in that look that Kiri didn’t say a word to her but rather that Katsuki wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was.
So who else knew then?!
Clearly not Dunce-Face, but that was to be expected.
“No reason,” answered Ashido, finally looking away from Katsuki and back to her party planning crew. “Just that it’s her last birthday party with her UA fam, and she may be sad everyone doesn’t show up!”
“Oh right,” said Dunce Face with a little nod and then looked up at Katsuki and shook his head. “You better show! A sad Uraraka is the worst!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes and turned to leave, thankful for the idiot's complete lack of awareness. “I’m not going to a fucking New Year’s Eve Party!”
“Yes, you are,” called Pinky. “You’re coming for Uraraka, and that’s that!”
“No,” he said, throwing the door to the stairs open and looking over his shoulder as he stomped through it. “I’m not!” He slammed the door shut forcefully- clearly making his point.
“Not what?!”
He whipped around to yell at the next person who dared interrupt him in the midst of his rage and found Uraraka there.
Here.
Every-fucking-where.
“None of your business,” he barked, shoving past her and heading toward the stairs.
“Oh uh right,” she said with a nod, moving to step out into the common room.
The common room where they were busy planning her surprise birthday party.
Fuck.
“Uh, Cheeks!”
She turned, her hand poised on the door to push, but she didn’t get it open. She turned toward him, head cocked expectantly, the little ponytail on the back of her head bobbing slightly at the motion.
Cute.
Too fucking cute.
“Yes?”
Oh right. He needed to say something. They hadn’t said anything since…since…he had yelled at her in the middle of the street to shape up and start seeing herself as the badass that she was. They had been too busy since then.
“Uh…umm…how…was it?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “How was what?” she asked slowly, weighing the words in her mouth as if she had missed something.
“Break…your break,” he clarified. “Christmas break and your birthday and all of that?”
A grin broke out on her face as she took a small step toward him. “You know when my birthday is?”
“What,” he sputtered, an angry scowl coming over his features. “I…” well, there was no use denying that he supposed. “So! I know a lot of things! I’m observant as fuck!” Her smile grew impossibly wider, and his cheeks felt impossibly warmer under the force of that smile. “Just because I’m not like fucking Deku and have to write everything down in a damn notebook to remember, it doesn’t mean that I don’t pay attention.”
“Oh, I know you pay attention, Bakugo,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as if to perish the thought that she would think anything else. “And it was great!”
“Eh?”
“My break,” she said. “It was really good. Short, but it was great to see my parents.” She stepped toward him, even closer, and suddenly the stairwell was beginning to feel very stuffy and crowded and warm. “How was your break?”
He stood his ground, staring down at her, her arms tucked behind her back, the toes of one of her slippers pointing at the floor. “Boring,” he said. “Too long.”
If she was deterred by his one-word answers, she sure didn’t let on. “And how’s your family?”
“Fine. Good. Boring.”
“Hmmm…I can’t imagine that’s true!”
He glared at her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You callin’ me a liar, Cheeks?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. And he could see the beginnings of a blush in her own cheeks. “I’m just saying I can’t imagine the family of Katsuki Bakugo being boring.”
He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or flattered by her words- he was too busy reeling from the sound of his given name on her lips. He had never heard her say it before. Out loud. To his face. “Bakugo?” She was looking up at him intently as if checking to see if he was okay.
He certainly was not.
“Are you alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he barked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. It wasn’t like he wasn’t doing his best NOT to think about the citrusy smell of her body wash, or the way her still wet baby hairs clung to her neck or her forehead, or the way her lounge shorts were just the right… “Holy fuck, Cheeks.” And just like that, his mental state did a 180. He bent at the waist slightly to track the harsh red line that carved through her upper thigh and letting a low whistle. He wasn’t concerned that she would be weirded out by the behavior, as the two of them had a running competition over the past 6 months, comparing and bragging about their injuries sustained in their work-study.
Of course, neither of them had come close to getting anything as bad as the scar he sustained their first year at UA- and he was more than fine with that. And he hoped to God that Uravity never has to have such a close call (though he knew that was unlikely, they were heroes after all).
“I know,” she said, pursing her lips in a slight pout as she twisted slightly to give him a better view of the red path the injury cut down and curving around her whole leg, disappearing right above her calf. “Happened two days; some low-life criminal with a barbed wire quirk or something.” Her tone dropped slightly, and he looked up at her. Usually, she sounded pleased as punch when she told the stories of how she got her injuries. “This one hasn’t healed yet, and I just bought a new dress!” She laughed and shrugged anxiously. “Maybe it was the universes’ way of punishing me for being vain.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes, trying not to sound dismissive. He knew things were sometimes different for girls- badass and sexy were not necessarily hand-in-hand for them in the eyes of culture, at least not “badass” in a way that left its mark on them in the way hero work most definitely will. Fucking idiotic. Heroes weren’t there to be hot; they were there to be heroes, but, even so, the more evidence of badassery, the hotter the hero as far as he was concerned (he firmly believed anyone who thought that Miruko was any less sexy with her prosthetic arm was either a small-dicked coward or an idiot).
But, usually, Uraraka had seemed fairly immune to that- taking great pride in the way her training marked her body.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head as his eyes narrowed in on the wound. Barbed wire, huh? He assumed someone at Miruko’s agency checked her, but still, Katsuki believed that it was safe to assume most people were idiots and that he should check their work. Scars were hot, but still, wounds should be properly cared for to prevent injury that would impede hero work. “This is badass, Cheeks,” he assured her, looking up at her with a smirk. “It’ll make the dress look good.”
He looked up at her to find her averting her eyes, the flush in her cheeks spreading out to cover her whole face. His smirk grew wider- he liked the moments when he had the upper hand, when he was the one making her blush and not the other way around.
“Uh…r-right,” she said, her lips forming a tight line, like she was trying to hold back a pleased smile. “Are you coming to the…”
The door suddenly swung open to Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair, both with a shit-eating grin, reminding Katsuki of the position he found himself in, bent at the waist looking over the back of Uraraka’s leg, eye-level with an ass that was difficult not to notice.
“Whatcha doin?” asked Racoon-Eyes, Katsuki shot up to stand straight.
“Oh, not much,” said Uraraka. “Bakugo was just checking out my new battle scar,” she turned to show them, casual, as if she had no idea how this looked. Why should she? She didn’t know that he had a raging crush on her, and she certainly didn’t know that Racoon-Eyes and Shitty Hair knew.
“Uh-huh,” said Ashido, looking between the two of them with a wicked grin. “I’m sure he was…”
Uraraka nodded and moved to open the door into the common room. “Well,” she said. “I’m going to go make some tea!” She waved over her shoulder. “Good to see you all!”
When the door shut, Katsuki looked up at the ceiling, pointedly avoiding the probing, knowing eyes of his “friends.” When they didn’t say anything, he finally screwed up a sufficiently vitriolic scowl and looked at them.
“What?!” He didn’t care how demanding and defensive his voice was.
These assholes needed to mind their own business!
“We didn’t say anything,” said Racoon Eyes, while Shitty Hair shook his head and made a motion like zipping his lips shut.
“Tch…whatever…” He turned to continue his original path up the stairs.
“So,” called Racoon Eyes when he was halfway up the stairs. “I guess that means you’re coming tomorrow night then?”
He turned on the stairs to face them both. “You know what,” he said, pointing between them both. “ This is why it’s hard to love you.”
Both could not have looked more pleased at what he had thought had bean accusation, so he turned to continue to stomp up the stairs like an angry, pouting T-Rex.
“That’ a yes then?!”
This time, he didn’t dignify their smartassery with a response.
###
Ochako left and returned to her room five times before she even made it to the stairs that would take her to the common room.
Five times.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t so sure she could pull this off. She looked at herself in the mirror and breathed out. It was their last time celebrating the New Year together. Everyone was going all out. It wasn’t like she was going to show up and be overdressed- she had seen everyone else’s dresses, but they seemed to match their personalities.
As she looked at the mini-dress she was wearing- she loved it, she really did. The pink fabric was soft and delicate, swishing around her thighs (definitely short enough to show off her battle scar), covered with a silvery lace that put her in mind of stars (because she was still her after all), and she adored the shimmering sheer long-sleeves.
But what she wasn’t sure about, the thing that she loved but also made her run back to her room five times was the neckline.
The deep, plunging neckline that covered everything completely (thanks to Mina’s copious donated boob tape) but went just below her sternum.
She was hot.
She looked hot.
She loved the way she looked in it, loved the way she felt in it. It fit some perfect middle ground for her, that made her feel sexy and cute, in a way that captured the way she wanted to be seen. She wasn’t a cute, bubbly girl in this. She was a cute, bubbly woman.
But she couldn’t help but wonder if it matched the mental image that other people had of her.
She was trying so hard not to judge herself based on what other people might think- but it was so hard.
Would they think she was trying too hard?
Did she look like a little girl playing dress-up?
She hoped not. Especially if she was going to pluck up any type of courage to talk to Bakugo tonight, to spend some time with him, to see if he would let her just… be close to him tonight. She wasn’t sure what shape that would take.
But she knew she only had a few more months until graduation, so if she wanted to do anything more than to watch from a distance and wonder “what if,” she needed to do it soon.
She smoothed out the dress and bent to secure the strap of her heels once more, assuring that they would come undone and send her flying out of them halfway through the night. She checked the loose messy waves of her hair and dabbed on a little bit of lip gloss.
She checked herself once more in the mirror.
She. Looked. Hot.
In the dress she bought for herself, because it was sexy and pretty and cute, and that’s how she needed to feel if she was going to talk to him tonight.
On her sixth attempt, she made it through the door. She was ready! She could do this.
“Oi…Cheeks.”
She could NOT do this. She froze her trek toward the stairs and turned slowly to see Bakugo standing at the end of the hall, his phone out, typing away at the screen and then pocketing it in his jeans.
Jeans.
Jeans that fit.
Dark denim that fit him like a dream.
She slowly brought her eyes up to take in the rest of him, from his narrow waist all the way to his broad shoulders and chest where the black button-up was stretched taut. Sure, she had wanted to see him. But she had wanted it to be something romantic- like a freakin’ movie montage.
She had wanted him to catch her freakin’ gaze from across the room, seeing her mid-laugh and being absolutely enchanted by the flush of her cheeks and the way her perfectly tousled curls fell around her face!
Dammit, was that so much to ask?!
Apparently, yes.
She cleared her throat and shook her head, trying to maintain some sense of dignity. “Y-you’re going to the party?”
He looked at her like she was stupid- but in that way that almost looked more like affection at this point than legitimate annoyance. “Tch…no,” he snarked, striding down the hall toward her. “I got dressed up just to sit in my room and spend the night alone.”
“But isn’t that you usually do,” she asked with a smirk. She always did like riling him up any chance she got.
“Fine,” he said with a shrug, turning away from her. “Maybe I’ll do just that.”
“No!”
She reached out and hooked his arm and tugged him back. He didn’t put up a show of fighting but turned to face her with a triumphant grin on his face that made her knees just a little weak. She dropped his arm and stepped away from him, creating enough distance to be able to breathe again.
“I mean…” she laughed nervously. “You should come. It’s our last one, right?”
He looked down at her a moment longer- the smirk softening briefly into something else before he nodded. “Guess it is.”
They walked toward the stairwell, and she was keenly aware of how close he was. He smelled so damn good- it was still him- so uniquely and completely him- but with something else added, something like cedar and amber mixing with the sweetness of his natural scent. She had to fight so badly the urge to lean in toward him, to brush her arm against his, to feel his warmth closer to her.
But she didn’t.
She held back. Because she was an adult, for goodness sake!
They walked silently down the stairs, but it wasn’t particularly awkward. It was just what she had come to expect from him, and she actually liked these small quiet moments with Bakugo- he was so loud and explosive that these moments felt so special.
He didn’t say anything until they got to the door. He reached over her shoulder to grab the handle; for a brief moment, she felt the press of her back against him, and it made her kinda dizzy, and if that wasn’t enough, she felt his other hand at the small of her back. The back of the dress was low, and his fingers almost- ALMOST- grazed against her skin. For the first time, she wished she was just a little bit shorter because maybe then his fingers would have brushed the skin.
Then she felt him lean into her slightly, his hand still holding the door, and then he was so close to her ear it took her considerable willpower not to drop her head back against him. He turned his head slightly, so his mouth was close to her ear.
So. Damn. Close.
“Told you that your scars would make that dress look hot.”
All she had to do was turn her head slightly toward her right shoulder, and she would be close enough.
To close the distance between them.
To do what she had been thinking about for the past 6 months.
But before she could, he pressed on the door to the common room, and just like that, the warmth of his hand and his proximity were gone as she was swept away by shouts and cheers and declarations of “Happy Birthday Ochako!”
She froze for a moment in the door. Not sure if she had heard them right.
This was the New Years Party. Their last one together. Not her birthday. But- low and behold- there was a banner strung across the ceiling, stars danced across the walls, a plastic tiara was carefully placed on her head, and she was swept away into the hugs and kisses of her friends.
Her family.
The people who have made her who she is.
She let out a gleeful giggle as she returned the affection of the group hug around her. All of her uncertainty and self-consciousness was gone; they loved her and accepted her just as she was.
And they were all teaching her to do the same.
###
Katsuki knew he was going the minute they had mentioned that it would make Uraraka happy. He knew he was going- and apparently, Racoon-Eyes had figured out that he had a crush on Uraraka even before Shitty Hair had- a fact that she used to blackmail him into “lingering” around in the hallway to see when Uraraka left her room so that he could let them know when she was on her way down.
He pretended it was more of a chore than it actually was.
And, while he would never admit it to Racoon-Eyes or anyone else for that matter, he was glad he was the one who got to see her first. He tended to seclude when everyone was together- he likely wouldn’t get to talk to her for the rest of the night.
She was such a people person, and he wasn’t… he would slink into the back, and she would laugh and smile and enjoy the rest of her night.
That had been why he had said yes.
But when she stepped out of her room, he was torn between wanting to keep her with him on this floor the rest of the night because he wanted to be the one who got to look at her (he was always a little bit selfish- or a lot bit, depending on who you asked), and wishing he had never agreed to this at all.
Because now she was standing in front of him.
And there was nowhere to hide.
If he had seen her in the common room, surrounded by all the noise and all the people he could have just watched from across the room, had all the weird, overwhelming feelings stirring in his chest in a state of relative anonymity.
But now…now she was standing right in front of him.
And fuuuuck, she looked good.
When her back was to him, he could see the defined cut of her calves, the way the fabric of her dress swished on the back of her thighs, the way the straps of her dress curled over her defined shoulders and crossed mid-back, leaving two panels that gave him an eyeful of her back.
He was used to seeing her in shorts, tank-tops, and skin-tight suits.
All had their own appeal.
But he wasn’t used to seeing this much skin.
He quickly looked down at his phone, taking deep breaths to settle himself as he typed out a message to Ashido to let her know that they were heading down so that she could prepare whatever overly hostile jumping out and screaming “surprise” plan that she had.
His hands shook as his eyes remained on the screen, resolutely away from her. He didn’t know why he was freaking out. He had…maybe…hoped to get to talk to her tonight. To be close to her at some point. Even wish her a happy birthday or something lame like that, but his throat felt very dry, and he was suddenly feeling that very unfamiliar feeling of insecurity creep into his mind.
She was so fucking cute.
And pretty.
And soft.
And round.
A damn dream in that dress.
A badass angel who could charm you with a smile while simultaneously choking the life out of you. In other words,- the perfect woman.
And he was Katsuki fucking Bakugo- badass hero, future number one, but this was the one area (that’s right, the ONE area, and he would maintain that until he died) he did not know how to handle. He was good enough to be about everything in the world.
But, for some reason, he could barely entertain the idea that she would give him a second thought, well beyond the fact that she gave everyone a second thought because she was an angel. So maybe a third or fourth thought?
She hadn’t even thought to ask him for help with her whole Santa fiasco. He had never even entered her mind. But when his eyes flicked up momentarily, he could see the way she was looking over him, starting at his feet and going all the way to his face, dragging along his frame thoroughly.
And briefly, he was grateful to his parents for insisting on buying him a new wardrobe (“one that actually fit” according to the Old Hag) when he was home. Because even if he wasn’t so good at this shit- even if he wasn’t sure how to play it cool when it came to a cute girl- it didn’t seem like she knew how to do that either.
That, along with the way she kept looking at him from the corner of her eyes and the way she seemed to swing her arm in such a way that she almost brushed her hand against his just to pull back at the last second, went a long way in stroking his ego and bolstering his confidence.
Enough so that when they were about to step into the common room area, their little quiet bubble seconds away from being burst, he was able to finally tell her how good she looked.
Well, in his own way, he supposed.
But then, just as he imagined, she was swept away into a wave of peers, from their own class and extras from some of the other courses. Ugh, it was bad enough having to spend an evening with the people he had only just learned how to enjoy for short periods of time, but now they had to mix in all these other people?
He was fairly certain that droopy-eyed mind-fucker had a thing for Uraraka. He always seemed to go out of his way to talk to her, to make her laugh, to flirt in his own casual way.
But to be fair, that might be the way Droopy Dog was with everyone- Katsuki was fairly sure he saw him leaned up against the wall chatting up Earjack and Pikachu at the same time. And here Katsuki was, sulking against the wall, barely able to talk to Uraraka for more than a few seconds without spazzing out.
Watching her bask in the affection and love and doting attentions of her classmates.
Watching her open her birthday presents with a level of enthusiasm that he couldn’t imagine bringing to anything other than winning. But it looked nice- he liked seeing her happy. It was one of the few things he genuinely could say he enjoyed.
There were a few times, he noticed, that she looked up from what she was doing and seemed to be searching the room for something (someone?), but he dropped his own eyes down before he had the chance to confirm if it was him that she was searching out.
When they brought out the cake for her, she looked like she was about to cry as she kissed Sato on the cheek, sending the boy into a blushing frenzy, though he seemed positively delighted to receive the affection.
He wondered if she understood how well she was liked.
And more so, if she knew what a skill that was? How much he struggled with those things that seemed so easy for her. If she learned to wield them effectively, she could- would - be unstoppable.
When he felt someone lean up against the wall beside him, he narrowed his eyes in annoyance, a bare-minimum annoyance that regularly failed to actually scare his classmates. But when he heard the voice of the intruder- the annoyance turned into white-hot rage.
“She looks really beautiful tonight, doesn’t she?’
The red (thankfully empty) cup in Katsuki’s hand folded easily under the crush of his fist as he turned on the cocky blonde.
“Who the FUCK invited you, pretty boy?”
The copycat extra raised an eyebrow, unflinching and unafraid of Katsuki, before sliding his gaze away. Katsuki instinctively, huffily, followed the path of his eyes to Uraraka, face red from excitement, her birthday crown sliding off slightly as she reached up to adjust it.
“Are you just going to stare at her like a creep all night?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” he snarled, feeling the sweat pool in his palms.
Except he did know. Shinso was a maybe but this asshole, Katsuki was pretty sure, had his eye on Uraraka for a while now. Embarrassingly, Katsuki had a suspicion that Uraraka had caught this guy’s eye before she had even caught Katsuki’s. Katsuki hated the asshole, but the quirk thief always seemed to treat Uraraka with a bit more respect than he did the rest of the A-class.
Monomo shrugged and took a sip of his own drink before lazily moving from the wall. “No reason,” he said. “I was just thinking if you didn’t do anything about it, I might.” He sauntered away, cocky as hell, throwing a quick smirk over his shoulder. “You know, someone has to kiss the birthday girl at midnight.”
Katsuki growled low and feral in his chest- jealousy flickering to life in his chest. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
But he was already out of earshot. And while Katsuki’s more base desires to win and be first were at war with his actual affection for Uraraka and his legitimate hatred for the copycat, he was a little surprised that the idiot had actually done Katsuki the service of a heads up. And while he could not have a lower opinion of the extra, Katsuki got the vibe he wasn’t just rubbing Katsuki’s nose in it.
It seemed like it was a not so friendly push.
Well, people needed to stop that and mind their own damn business.
It was only his business how, when, and if he talked to Uraraka about…all of this! And a little bit her business, he supposed.
###
At some point in the night, probably around 11: 15 when Pikachu, Tape Face, and Shitty Hair decided it was time to make asses of themselves by singing in the new year (still 45 minutes away) with very loud, very bad Karaoke.
It was already past his bedtime, and the music and the noise and the heat that came with a common room crowded with people yelling at each other was starting to make his head pound. Plus, he was pissed at himself because he was sure as he sulked out of the dorms to get some fresh air that somewhere that little B-class extra was finding a way to get close to Uraraka by midnight, and he was pouting out on the porch.
It wasn’t like she had told Katsuki not to talk to her the whole night.
He had made that choice all on his own.
He had mentally made the excuse that it was because there were too many people in there (he wasn’t sure what he thought he would have done had no one been there at all, but he could safely assume it was somewhere in the same vein of avoiding her entirely because she looked like that and was smiling like that he was…well…him).
He wasn’t sure where that confidence, that felt so much more like him, went. When he was walking her downstairs, he had been feeling like he wasn’t crazy, like there may be something here between the two of them. Maybe he was making it up, but she had leaned into his knee while she was reading the story to those little brats.
She had looked up at him like he had hung the moon just for wearing that stupid Santa suit.
She had definitely checked him out in the hallway.
But, he supposed, it was just what this stupid time of year did to people. It would all pass, and in a few weeks, everything would go back to normal, with him committing his full focus on becoming the number one hero.
And she…she would go be amazing somewhere, doing something that had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Or Deku.
Or Copycat.
Or anyone else except her.
But still, there was a part of him that was a little disappointed that he may not be close enough to watch in a few months.
He was a few minutes away from going inside and seeing if he could sneak back to his room without anyone noticing. He had made an appearance, more than an appearance. He had stayed most of the night, and now he wanted to go sulk in his room. At least, that’s what he thought, but he had barely been able to peel himself from the pillar that he was leaned against when the door opened, and he heard the clattering of heels and then her giggle and then her voice.
“I’m good! I’ll be right back, just getting some air!!”
He fell back against the pillar, waiting for her to notice that she wasn’t alone. She leaned against the door and let out a small groan as she bent at the waist and stepped out of her heels, sighing in relief and letting her head drop against the door when they were both off.
“If they are that fucking uncomfortable, why the hell are you wearin’ em?”
She perked up and turned toward him. “Oh, there you are!”
She had been looking for him…wondering where he had gone off too.
She had noticed that he wasn’t there. He shoved his hands into his pocket, still leaned against the door, looking at her; without her heels, she was dropped back down to her usual height. He could see her breath, chilled in the air, but she seemed to be enjoying the feel of the cool against her skin.
She shrugged and looked down at her abandoned shoes. “I know,” she said. “But they look so good.”
They did.
She did.
“Doesn’t seem worth it to me," he muttered.
She raised an eyebrow and gave him the once over. “Coming from the guy who literally sticks his hands in boiling water for his quirk? I should think you of all people would understand bearing a little pain.”
“Tch…for my quirk, that’s different.”
She rocked back and forth from her heels to her tiptoes and shrugged, looking away sheepishly. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not so bad, and sometimes a girl likes to feel pretty.”
Suddenly, he was feeling very warm, despite the just-hovering-above-freezing temperatures outside. She was looking at him, cautiously…nervously.
There was something very inviting about the way she had caught her bottom lip in her teeth.
Was…was he supposed to say something?
He wanted to say something- tell her that she was.
Pretty, that is.
But he wasn’t a fucking dork.
And he didn’t say shit like that.
He could tell her she was badass all day long. Tough. A fucking top-tier hero.
That was no problem. But this was different. It felt different.
“Uh…well…” His eyes snapped up to her face, at the brief look of dejection in her eyes, whatever invitation that he been flirting there slowly draining, replaced by insecurity. ‘Well,” she said. “I- I supposed that I should…”
“H-Happy birthday,” he finally managed. God- he was, in fact, a dork. But that was all he could think to say. But it seemed enough for her, that little light returning to her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I didn’t get you anything,” he added lamely.
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with a knowing smile. “You didn’t?” He bristled at the way she said it, like she knew something that she didn’t. She held herself, each hand rubbing up and down the other arm in response to the chill.
There was, if he had to guess, about 8 feet of distance between them, and neither of them were budging. He wondered if she wanted him too.
“You know,” she said. “Every last one of the names got taken from the tree at the youth center.”
“And,” he drawled, trying to sound disinterested, but that only made her smile grow more. “Why would I care about that?”
She looked far too smart for her own good- a cocky glint in her eye that was just…well…doing it for him. She shrugged, exaggeratedly, her pale smooth shoulders raising slightly. “I don’t know, Bakugo,” she said. “You tell me?”
“Tch…maybe it was Santa,” he said.
“Right…”
Another thick silence fell over them, and he didn’t know if she was breathing heavier than usual or if he just felt like she was because he could see the puffs of white air. His eyes briefly dropped down, tracing the corded muscles of her neck, her collar bones, the dip at the base of her throat.
He wasn’t used to seeing so much of her.
He wanted to see more.
“Katsuki…”
Before his gaze went lower, he looked back up to her eyes, frantically, as though he had been caught doing…something. He wasn’t sure what. And then, it struck him that she had said his name again, this time without his last name. He internally berating himself for missing it- for being too distracted to watch the way her lips curled around those syllables.
He was suddenly feeling very, very warm.
Maybe a little dizzy. She hadn’t moved closer, but it felt like she had, the resolve and fight in her eyes keeping him rooted in front of her so he couldn’t look away even if he had wanted to.
“I’m…I’m trying this thing…”
He could hear the tenor of her voice- the tremble and strain and stubbornness- the sound of her courage and her doubt doing battle with each other. She breathed out and brought her eyes once again to his.
“Where I don’t treat myself like I’m just Ochako Uraraka.”
He straightened just a little bit but remained with his shoulder pressed against the column. He couldn’t quite hold back the smirk at her words - his words.
“And what does that mean,” he asked.
“I... it means I’m asking for the things I want.”
His mouth went a little dry, and he clenched his fists in his pockets, his good sense threatening to fly right out of his head at her words.
“And what’s that?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray the nerves and the want rattling inside of him.
“I want something from you,” she said. “For my birthday.”
Oh god.
Oh god.
He was going to die.
He had survived seeing her in that dress and had thought- like a damn idiot- that he was in the clear. But it seemed he had been mistaken.
It took every last scrap of his dwindling willpower to keep his mouth shut. He had been trying to play it cool, and now he was a half-second away from responding to her still unspoken ask.
Yes.
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Whatever the hell you want.
Come and get it- whatever it is.
I dressed up like Santa for you, you idiot. Do you really think I’m going to say no to you?
He nodded his head at her slightly, gesturing for her to continue. Her lips parted, and he could see the pink tip of her tongue dart briefly across her bottom lip, and she drew in one more breath, seeming to draw on her own courage.
“I want…I want…I…” he waited, holding his breath because he didn’t want to miss it. And the request was spoken quietly, in a hushed whisper.
“A- a kiss.”
He stood still for a moment- unblinking and unmoving- weighing her words carefully in his ears, to make sure she had actually said them, to make sure they hadn’t been tricked out of his needy, desperate memory.
But she was looking at him, eyes bright in the moonlight, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and she looked like she was waiting on him.
Well, gods forbid, he kept her (him) waiting any longer. He crossed the space between them and was on her in a moment, and his last thought before her sweet, pink lips were on his was that he was glad that she had taken off her heels. It wasn’t an ego thing, it was just that he liked her- the whole tiny, round package of her, and when he had imagined kissing her, he had always liked the idea of having to fold in slightly toward her, to tilt his face downward to find her lips, of her having to go up on her toes to meet him halfway.
####
Ochako hadn’t planned on that. On asking him. She wasn’t sure if it was desperate or sexy or anything in between; she just knew that’s what she wanted from him.
If he wanted to give it to her.
She waited for him to move first- she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t laugh in her face, but she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t say no; that he wouldn’t look at her like she was a little bit out of left field, talking complete and utter nonsense. But he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
And then he took one step toward her, and then another.
Then another.
And then he must have picked up his pace because his lips were on hers, one hand pressed against her back, his fingers curling slightly against the skin there, as if he- maybe- wanted to touch her as much as she wanted to touch him.
She clung to his shoulders hard- as a weightless, dizzy feeling (familiar and yet so very different) buzzed in her head.
She wondered, as his lips molded against hers, if it was a good kiss because he was Katsuki, and he was just…good at everything. Or if it felt so amazingly perfect just because…because he was Katsuki. And he looked at her like he just knew she could move mountains if she got it in her head that she wanted to.
This guy who looked at her like he wanted her too- and like it wasn’t a chore or a favor, but because she could stand beside him as an equal.
A true equal.
And that, all of that (along with the fact that she could feel the slope and dip of his muscles under that shirt, and she knew- had committed to memory - what it looked like under this fabric), swirled together in a heady, giddy daze.
She considered for a moment parting her lips against his, just to see what he would do, to see if he would read it as the invitation it was to deepen his kiss, but before she could, she pulled away just enough to allow them both to breathe.
But she didn’t drop down to her feet. She remained on her toes, lingering close enough to feel his breath on her still-tingling lips. She was worried if she created too much space between them, this would all go away, the magic would be shattered, and they would be dragged back into their lives like this never happened.
And she didn’t want that.
So, she remained close, savoring the feel of his fingertips, drawing light circles across her skin.
“You look really fucking beautiful tonight, Cheeks.”
Her whole body vibrated under the praise, and she tentatively, carefully let herself drop back down to the ground so she could look up at him and see his face- see the blush there, either from the kiss or the compliment, either way, it was freakin’ adorable.
“Thank you,” she said with a pleased giggle. “You do too.” She only considered afterward if that was weird. Did men like being called beautiful? She sure did. And she really couldn’t think of a better word to describe what he looked like right now, lips parted, eyes lidded, and cheeks dusted with red.
He looked beautiful.
And he didn’t look too put out by the compliment. He let the hand at her back drown away briefly so he could grasp at the lace of her skirt, feeling it between his fingers.
“You dress up for me?” he asked teasingly.
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I dressed up for me,” she said, and his eyes flashed with something that made her knees feel a little weak. “Besides,” she pouted. “Even if I did dress up just a little for you, Katsuki Bakugo …” His gremlin smirk returned at the way she said his name, and his blazing eyes dropped to her lips briefly. “You’re the one who disappeared through half of my birthday party.”
His hand returned to her back once again and pulled her in closer to him, close enough she was certain that he could hear the sharp intake of breath at the sudden motion.
“You weren’t hurtin’ for company,” he groused petulantly, and she detected the slightest scowl in his voice.
Brat.
“I was hurtin’ for yours,” she returned. The hand at her cheek dropped slightly to her jaw, his thumb brushing down her throat in a way that felt simultaneously tender and possessive in a way that she was NOT prepared for.
“That so?”
God, his voice.
It unfurled something inside of her that she was only a little freaked out by, but mostly intrigued by. She had, obviously, had crushes before turning eighteen. But this was something else. Something that made her feel both powerless and unstoppable all at once.
Which was kinda Katsuki’s whole deal.
She slid her hands down from his shoulders until they were both resting on his pecs- his amazing, perfectly sculpted pecs that she had thought of many, many, many…
Many.
Times.
She tapped her fingers lightly against the skin revealed by his top buttons being undone. “Uh-huh,” she answered.
“Mindfuck looked like he would have kept you company…”
She looked up at him, a heated flush returning to her face as she smiled flirtatiously at him and shook her head.
“Copycat?”
Her smile grew, and she shook her head again. A small part of her, perhaps a petty part of her, wanted to draw this out a bit because knowing that he had wondered about other people helped her feel a little bit better about the times she had wondered and compared herself to all the people Katsuki could have- there were so many beautiful people at UA, and surely Katsuki could have his pick of all of them.
But here he was looking at her, kind of adorable and all but asking her to confirm that she wanted him.
More than she wanted anyone else.
By way of answer, she went in for another kiss, this one a bit more insistent, less shy for both of him. Her hands slid up the back of his neck and into his hair, gently tugging him down to meet her. It was a small enough tug, not nearly enough to hurt, but she wondered as he moaned against her lips if he had wanted it to hurt- maybe a little.
This time, she wasted no time, parting her lips against his, and he wasted no time in accepting her invitation, the tip of his tongue grazing along her bottom lip coaxing her mouth open wide for him. This time he was far more demanding with his lips, his teeth, his hands, with the press of his body against hers.
He pulled away suddenly, and she was about to gripe at him, but it was cut off by a surprised ‘meep’ as he spun her around and pressed her up against the column, one hand still draped lightly against her neck, his forearm braced above her head against the stone column, invading every last bit of her personal space in a way she wasn’t about to complain about.
She was surrounded by him.
The feel of him.
The sweet smell of him.
The perfect taste of him.
And she could lose herself in him in the best possible way.
And she had no desire to escape.
Their previous kiss might have been the perfect first kiss, but this was the perfect second kiss, and she could feel it in her whole body as he dragged his teeth gently across her bottom lip.
And suddenly, unbidden, she smiled into his kiss and let out a small giggle. She tried to stamp it down. Maybe that wasn’t sexy? Was it weird? Should she have made some other noise that let him know she had enjoyed that?
Because she had.
She would like him to do it again.
But the sensation of being entirely crowded by Katsuki Bakugo, while being deeply exciting and was certainly awakening something inside of her that she was looking forward to exploring, also made her happy. And when she was happy, she smiled, and she laughed.
She hoped he knew it.
And then she felt him smile against the corner of her mouth, and it made her want to hold him to her tighter, longer.
It made her not want to let go.
“Happy Birthday,” he muttered against her cheek, his body still folded in slightly on hers as he all but nuzzled at her cheek.
She hummed happily, her fingers gently playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, which seemed to make him drop a little heavier against her, letting her support his weight in a way she was more than happy to offer.
She could have stood out there for hours, dragging her fingers through his hair, listening to him breathe against her cheek, the warmth of his body blocking her from the chilly night. But then, suddenly, the window flew open with an ungodly clatter, and before either could react, the flash of phone cameras was going off in that direction.
“What the fuck!?”
Katsuki turned toward the open window, where Kiri, Mina, Kaminari, and Deku were leaning all the way out, stacked on top of each other like they each made up a part of a very nose, very loud snowman.
“Hey, you two,” taunted Kaminari. “Couldn’t even wait thirty minutes for midnight before you started sucking face.”
Katsuki looked murderous, but she suspected that had more to do with being caught looking soft than being caught with her- and, in general, having them all up in his business. But she supposed they would both have to be okay with that- when your family comprises 20 of your classmates who all live in the same building, you had to forego a certain amount of privacy.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward her, away from the window. “It’s nothing,” she called shakily. “H-He was just…giving me my birthday present?”
Kaminari and Kiri burst into uncontrollable laughter at the flimsy excuse, and even Katsuki was looking down at her in an “are-you-kidding-me” fashion, while Mina was looking between the two of them with devilish intent.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “I bet he was.”
“Sweet, sweet Ochako,” called Kaminari. “If he says, “your present is in my pants,” don’t fall for it, he…” a small explosion popped off in Katsuki’s palms, and Kaminari let out a yelp as he disappeared back inside to the safety of the dorm.
But then Shoto's head popped out in the line to replace Denki's. He looked up at Deku above him. “Why are we all looking outside?”
“Great question, Icy-Hot,” growled Katsuki, whose breathing was starting to get heavier, and this time not from the excitement of kissing her but from the strain of keeping his considerable temper in check.
Deku grinned down at his boyfriend. “Kacchan is giving Ochako a “birthday” present.”
Shoto’s brow furrowed for a moment as though trying to decipher a second meaning to Deku's words, then his nose twisted in distaste. “Oh,” he said. “Eww.”
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU ALL!”
Katsuki charged at the window with such ferocity that his prey only just had time to rear back and slam the window shut. Katsuki couldn’t afford to get in trouble for any property damage, so even though the glass was thin and easily breakable, it was, for now, an impenetrable wall of protection.
For now.
But Katsuki knew where they all lived.
When it was just the two of them again, Katsuki calmed down a little, but Ochako did wonder briefly if the mood had been ruined.
Was this a one-time thing?
Would it last for only the next few months until they graduated?
And would she be okay with that, if that was all he could (or wanted) to give her?
She didn’t know.
She didn’t think so.
She looked up at him nervously.
"Now what?" she asked, voice a whisper.
“What do you mean, now what?” he asked, flashing his sharp canines at her in a way that should not be as sexy as it was. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, and she found herself more than willing to be lead in this moment. He leaned in again, his nose and mouth brushing up against her ear as he worked her hair out of the way. And even as his mouth did sweet, sweet things to her neck, that made her pliant as puddy in his hands, one arm was on her waist, like he didn’t want to let go, and the other was cupping her cheek like it was the only thing he wanted to hold.
So, maybe there would be room to ask later what this all meant. But right now, it was hard to focus on anything other than the way his teeth dragged deliciously over the juncture of her shoulder and her neck.
“I think I should get a Christmas present too,” he whispered, his voice husky and perfect on her skin.
She sighed and nodded happily.
Santa certainly deserved Christmas presents every now and again. It was only fair.