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“Gooooood Afternoon, beautiful listeners! You’ve been waiting all week for this one! Today, we have none other than Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight gracing the show with his presence! How are you, Dynamight?!”
“Fine.”
Katsuki did not entirely realize that, once you become a ranked hero, you spend more time doing stupid fucking interviews with stupid fucking people than you do actually winning fights against bad guys. Bullshit. Save a few kids from a collapsed building once, and then it’s nothing but a never-ending cycle of bullshit think pieces and interviews with out-of-touch podcast hosts.
He hates it. Just let him be a hero.
“Just fine? My sources tell me you just rescued nearly fifty children and even more adults from a recent building collapse, that sounds more than fine to me! You’re their hero, Dynamight.”
“I’m everyone’s hero.”
“Yes, of course, we should expect nothing less from our hometown number two!”
Katsuki’s eye twitches. Yes, the fact he’s 23 and number two is objectively impressive, but he didn’t spend the entirety of his formative years striving for second place.
“Gonna be number one soon.” He says.
The interviewer laughs. What an asshole.
“Ha! Excellent ambitions, I'm sure once Hawks and the Hero Deku retire, you’ll get your chance! It’s a wonder you surpassed Hawks this go-’round, he’s been holding tight to that second spot since before you made your debut!”
Katsuki suppresses every impulse to pummel this idiot’s face into this carpet, every base urge to scream and yell and declare, for not the first time, that he’s going to be the best. Keep it together, Katsuki. He calmly repeats: “Gonna be number one.”
The interviewer just nods, “Well, you heard it here, folks. Future number one, Bakugou Katsuki, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, is planning to dethrone our revered Hero Deku next!”
That’s not what he said.
“And what about the rest of the charts, it looks like most of your former classmates are right on your tail! My sources also suggest beloved Uravity is coming for your spot—some say so she can join her boyfriend on the podium.”
Katsuki huffs something incredulous, “Hah, like she’d ever really date that nerd.”
“I don’t know, Dynamight, we’ve seen some rather incriminating photos of the two of them sharing some pretty romantic meals together, off-duty.”
“They’re friends. Next bullshit thing out of your mouth is gonna be about me dating Red Riot, or something, huh.”
“Well, now that you mention it, you two also have some incriminating evidence—”
“Jesus.” He shoots to his feet, “We’re friends. You dick.”
The interviewer laughs nervously and Katsuki sits back down. Has this fucker never heard of friends eating a meal together? Ridiculous.
“Alright, well, Dynamight, do you have anything you want to say to all of our wonderful listeners?”
“No.”
“Well, it looks like that’s our time! We’d love to know your thoughts, don’t forget to tweet us @HeroRadar_Mustafu! Thanks for joining us, Dynamight. Next up, We sit down with reformed villain Akaguro Chizome to ask him how his whirlwind partnership with none other than the Former Symbol of Peace has changed him, and after…”
The chair screeches as Katsuki kicks it out from beneath him and he shoves his hands into his pockets. The interviewer’s eyes bug a bit and they rush through the end of their sign off to catch him before he leaves. He’s one foot out the door, then—
“Wait, Dynamight! Bakugou!” they shout, and honestly, who gave them the right.
He doesn’t turn. “What.”
“Thank you again! For coming on the show, I know you don’t like giving interviews.”
“I don’t. Thank my mother, she’s the only reason I agreed. Better not make me look stupid.”
They fold themselves into a reverent bow, “Of course not!”
And Katsuki’s finally out the door.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he’s assaulted with twenty-seven missed line notifications, more than three missed phone calls, and a picture message from Deku. Looks like he's on patrol with Cheeks and up on what looks like Katsuki's favorite roof eating lunch. Without him.
He pinches and zooms around the picture to make sure, before he grumbles and rockets off in their assumed direction without even answering Izuku's message. He blasts across rooftops, vaults over fire escapes, then finally catches a glimpse of those useless, billowing bunny ears. As he lands on the roof behind them, Izuku turns his head.
“Kacchan!”
She turns next, and when the wind catches her hair, he almost turns away. But Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t run away from his problems, even when they come in cute, soft, badass little packages. Not today, at least.
“Bakugou!” she beams.
He’s never bothered asking, but he fuckin’ hopes those stupid rumours that they’re dating aren’t true.
He tucks the thought away and huffs with a smirk, walking over to flop between them, dangling his legs off of the roof’s edge.
Ochako hands him a steamed bun and he immediately shoves it in his mouth.
“How’d the interview go!” Izuku asks.
“Bullshit.” He mumbles through bites.
“Oh no, what did they do! Did they ask about the war again, I wish they’d let that go—”
“No, it's fine. Just hero rankings bullshit.”
Izuku quiets.
“Well, at least I finally dethroned bird boy.”
Ochako laughs, bright and airy, and he resists the urge to turn. He won’t survive looking at her right now.
“You did dethrone the bird boy.” Izuku says, fondness in every syllable, “Are you off today?”
“Yeah, thought the thing would take longer. You two almost done?”
“Uraraka is! I’ve been at the agency doing paperwork all morning, but I’m about to start my patrol.”
Katsuki turns to her and, as usual, he’s right. Pink, squishy cheeks and warm brown eyes look up at him, and he feels something catch in his throat—feels his own cheeks burn.
She tried to kiss him once.
Less than a year ago, at some party Pinky was hosting. Stumbled over to him in the kitchen, cup in hand, and said she “wouldn’t be mad if he kissed her” . He told her to ask him herself.
She chickened out.
He was glad she did, because he’s not sure if he would have been able to say no.
Not in a weird way, in a "might've been wanting you to ask that for a few years now" kind of way.
Izuku’s phone buzzes on the concrete, the vibration pattern of “I am here!” all too familiar. When he picks up the call, Katsuki decides to be bold.
“You like mochi, right?”
“Yes?” She says, hesitantly.
“Got plans after you get off?”
She just stares at him, all doe eyes and windswept hair, and he continues, “Heard they’re having a little mini festival near the beach. Was gonna go, didn’t know if you wanted to come with.”
Her face lights up, “Yes please! That sounds so fun, Bakugou!”
Cool. That's cool. “Nothin’ fancy, just wear a hat or something so people don’t recognize you.”
“Oh, I don’t know if that’ll be a problem, I’m nowhere near as recognizable as you. But I will!”
His shoulder creaks as he pulls himself to his feet. “Hat. See you in an hour.” He says, before blasting off of the roof towards home.
-
A gentle sea breeze whips through the tips of Katsuki’s hair as smells of sweet caramel and fried dough fill the open air around him. Following his own rules, he’s black-clad from head to toe, polarized lenses rest on his nose, and his hair stays mostly-tucked under a thin black beanie.
He leans against the railing of the pier, aware he’s a good twenty minutes early and more than willing to wait. Content to let the festival noise settle around him.
“Come here often?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes at the stupid come-on and glances toward the noise.
Fluffy hair shoved under a white baseball cap, white sneakers, old denim, and a very familiar black t-shirt that’s a few sizes too big, a tiny orange x emblazoned on the pocket. Honestly, not a bad disguise, if he didn’t know her so well.
”You wearin’ my merch?”
Ochako grins, “Yes, what about it?”
Well, damn. Didn’t expect that. “Nothin’, I guess.” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning towards the busy stalls. She shuffles over to him, matching pace with a smile spread across her face.
“I didn’t know you liked festivals, Bakugou.”
“Don’t. I like food.” He says, guiding them both to the aisle he’d been eyeing since he showed up.
“Mmm, me too!” She says, happier than he’s seen her in a while. Though, in his defense, they recently have only seen each other when they’re trading off patrol shifts and at least one of them is dog-tired. It’s nice to hang out without feeling the urge to pass out.
They roam the aisles as the sun slowly dips beneath the horizon, stopping at every food stall that makes Ochako’s eyes go wide. With her hands full of snacks, they spend a whole half-hour at the mochi pounding exhibition.
“I could do that,” he mumbles.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, I’ve looked into this, these guys have to spend decades practicing.” She wasn’t supposed to hear him.
“Of course you did research. Nerd's rubbin' off on you. I could do it, I know how to practice.”
“Whatever you say, Bakugou.” She says, holding up a red bean taiyaki to her lips and taking a comically tiny bite. Katsuki snorts.
“What?”
“You eat like a bird.”
She scoffs, “I’m trying to savor it! I don’t get taiyaki much anymore.”
He hums, “me neither, actually.”
“Wanna bite?” she asks, holding out the partially-eaten pastry to his mouth.
He leans down and takes a giant chomp.
“Hey!" She squeals. "That was like half of it!”
“So? You said I could have some.”
“Some! Not all!”
Katsuki laughs and pivots her by the shoulders, “Hah, fine, crybaby, let’s get you another one.”
“I am not a crybaby,” she pouts.
“You’re Deku's best friend, of course you are.” He jokes, and she pouts some more.
Her face shifts back to delight as he presents her with a shiny new fish pastry and he resists the urge to take another bite, if only so that he can see that face again when he buys her another one. He makes sure she’s facing forward before he smiles.
Ochako calls his name over her shoulder, and his attention is hers.
“I’m sorry.” She says.
He stops walking. He thought they were having a good time—a kickass time, if he’s honest—so her apology hits him like a bucket of ice to the face. He plays it cool.
“For what?”
“For, uh…” he can only see the back of her head, but he knows what face she’s making. He doesn’t push her like he normally would. Her shoulders heave, “You probably don't even remember, but Deku told me I tried to kiss you. At Mina’s party. And, uh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that like that . Like, we’re friends, right, and—”
“You and Deku dating?” He blurts.
“No!” She shouts, pivoting on her heel, “no, of course not.”
“Why ‘of course’, it’s not an insane question.”
She laughs, “well, it kind of is.”
“How.” He’s getting frustrated.
“Because Deku and Todoroki have been together for like a year.” She says, like it’s common knowledge. Because it should be, he should know that two of his closest friends are together. He thought they were just really good friends.
And roommates.
With a one-bedroom apartment.
Katsuki’s a fucking idiot.
“Wait, you didn’t know?” She asks.
“Nope,” He says plainly, somehow not ashamed of looking dumb around her. “Not a damn clue.”
“Wow, I know they were trying to keep it quiet...or maybe you are that clueless,”
“Hey!”
“So no, why was that your first question.”
“Huh. So you’re really not dating, then.”
“Don’t tell me you believe everything you hear on those gossip podcasts.”
Katsuki, who just finished an interview on one of those gossip podcasts, snorts. “Yeah, no, why would I ever think that.”
A giggle bubbles up from Ochako’s chest and she gently grabs his forearm, “No, Bakugou, I’m not dating Izuku. Not dating anyone, actually.” She says, sheepishly.
“Then why are you apologizing?”
She taps the pads of her fingers together, “Well, honestly, I didn't think you'd be all that into the idea, and I was worried about crossing a line. You’re a really good friend, Bakugou, maybe the best, and I…well, I’d be sad if I had ruined that.”
They walk in silence for a moment, down the final aisle of stalls and toward the quieter end of the boardwalk, while Katsuki composes his thoughts.
“You were drunk. And you didn't ruin anything.”
She gasps, a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it noise, and he's ready to throw himself into the ocean. “You’re a good person, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” he says, “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Your apology.” He says, “Do you feel bad about wanting to kiss me.”
Then the anxious giggles start, “Well, no? Not really. Really, I only feel bad that I don’t even remember asking.”
“You sober now?”
“Yes?” She says.
“Ask again.”
The hustle and bustle of the festival is well beyond their rearview, yet they still walk shoulder to shoulder like they’re trying to make space for everyone else. He doesn’t want her to move. When they reach the black stone barrier to the beach, Ochako immediately breaks from him, bouncing over the rocks and onto the sand with a muted thud.
She’s running, but not away.
“So?”
Even the dull moonlight can’t hide that blush, “I can’t do that Bakugou!”
He jumps down to the rocks until he’s sitting on the edge—feels like he’s on their roof. She gravitates toward him like this, and his ego (and his heart) might grow two sizes.
“Dont’ be chickenshit, Cheeks.” he says, wrapping his leg around her waist to pull her closer. He’s pretty sure they’re on the same page now.
She stands between his knees, eyes filled with flecked moonlight and a thousand other corny and romantic things he’ll be keeping to himself. And then, she finally does it. Does what both she and Katsuki were too scared to do just a few months earlier.
“Would you be mad if I kissed you?”
Katsuki shakes his head no at the same time he surges toward her beaming face. She closes her eyes just in time.
It’s everything he thought it would be, and a hundred other things he’d never considered. She’s strong all over, but she's also soft, tastes like candy and green tea, maybe a hint of apple, and if Katsuki didn’t want to eat her before…
He pulls her in closer with the leg still wrapped around her waist, dropping it once she’s close enough, dragging his hand across her side to the small of her back. She raises a fist to his chest, pinky out of course, and gently tugs on his shirt.
She inhales while their lips are still joined, leaving Katsuki a little bit breathless, and he’s not sure he can go on with his life without her doing that again. And again. His grip tightens around her waist, and just as he gets his wits back, likely realizing how not private their space is right now, she pulls them apart. Not far, but enough.
Katsuki pants, embarrassing, but honestly he doesn’t care, just wants to kiss her again. Why haven’t they been doing this the whole time?
She whispers into the space between them, “We should go somewhere else, they’re going to see us.”
“Don’t care,” He lunges forward, leaning into his greedy urges for another taste, but as their lips brush, she presses against his shoulders.
“You will.” she says, “You will care if there’s a scandal—if someone catches us and you drop back down to 3. Or worse 4.” She says, the current number four hero in all of Japan.
And goddammit, she's right.
“You’re so hot.”
“What.” She looks stunned.
Katsuki just shrugs, still holding her by the waist, “Dunno, that was hot.”
She smirks, “You think being thoughtful is hot, Bakugou?”
“Okay, shut up.” He says, pulling away in jest, and then she drags him down off of the rocks to kiss him again.
+++
Katsuki wakes slowly to the warmth of a sunbeam and the smell of something new. Something sweet. He turns and peeks open an eye.
Porcelain skin, being warmed by the summer sun, soft hair haloed around her head, and…green “Deku” mittens on her hands and one of his old All Might t-shirts riding up her hip.
She looks insane.
She looks beautiful. And unfortunately very peaceful.
He resists the urge to bite one of her cheeks, instead pressing a kiss to her temple and quietly sliding out of bed.
He grabs a pair of clean boxers he thinks she might get a kick out of, then slinks toward the kitchen.
He’s almost finished with breakfast when the bedroom door creaks open.
Wild bedhead, his shirt, much bigger on her than expected and sliding off of her shoulder, only one remaining mitten; she’s the most angelic looking dork he’s ever met.
He thinks he could love her. He thinks he might already.
Katsuki smothers that train of thought for now, clearing his throat and turning back to the stove.
“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.” He says, hilariously smug for only having woken up a half hour before.
“Hey, it’s not even—” She lurches to a stop, “You’re wearing my merch.”
He smirks, but doesn’t look back, “Oh these?” He says, smacking his own hip, right over her cute little planet logo. “Yeah, Deku swiped them for me a while ago. Always felt weird wearing them but,” He waves his spatula around his head, “you know.”
Ochako squeaks an embarrassed noise. “Smells great, Katsuki.”
He hums, sliding the eggs out of the pan and onto fresh steamed rice.
”Hot sauce is in the cupboard to your left.” she says casually.
Katsuki throws a questioning glare over his shoulder, “Thought you didn’t like spicy.”
“Don’t, but I have it around for guests.”
He smiles to himself when he reaches for the unopened bottle.
He turns with their plates, hearing a familiar, tinny voice coming from the phone in her hand.
“...gracing the show with his presence! How are you, Dynamight?!” “Fine.”
His smile falters, “Oi, don’t listen to that.”
“Why not?”, she teases, raising the phone above her head as a playful taunt, but it’s too late. He’s been caught.
“Hah, like she’d ever really date that nerd.” She stills, listening closer to the recording, but without breaking his eye contact. Katsuki blushes.
“Oh my god, you’re really into me, aren’t you.” She says, through a sly fucking smile.
“Yeah, so, what if I am?” He says, snatching her phone to pause the audio, “Was last night not enough proof?”
Katsuki turns to grab their plates, but then she wraps herself around his waist. “I am too, and it was,” she says, peeking her head between his arm and torso.
She’s too fucking cute.
“Good, Then lemme feed you.”
“Okay.”
They share a peaceful breakfast, she doesn’t talk his ear off, and Katsuki thinks he could really get used to this.