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Katsuki liked to bake, which was his secret not-so-secret talent. It was a secret to most of the world, except his roommate. Whenever Katsuki made something, he always made sure to make extra for Izuku. He would leave it on the counter and it would slowly disappear over the next couple days, and once they were all gone he would get a thank you and a, “can you please make more,” to which the answer was always no (but he does make more anyway).
They didn’t have any problems as roommates. Katsuki was hotheaded and irrational sometimes, breaking a large amount of their furniture, but Izuku was the one always dropping plates and bowls and literally any of their glassware. He was calling that even.
It had been a stressful day at work, and all Katsuki wanted to do was bake. He really wanted to put all his frustration into whisking something with unnecessary aggression. Katsuki liked to play music when he was baking, and he was in the mood for rock music that would make him go deaf slowly. Except, he can’t listen to music when he makes cookies. No, when he made cookies, he needed to be on high fucking alert. And all Katsuki wanted was a batch of fucking chocolate chip cookies.
Izuku was like a fucking hound dog when it came to raw cookie dough. It was like he had a sixth sense for when Katsuki was making cookies, and he would always “conveniently” appear in the kitchen to “just taste it!” and “make sure it’s good!” Katsuki always ended up short on dough, not able to make enough to satisfy his craving. He wanted his cookies to last for the next few days, but at the rate that Izuku inhales the batter, he can only make enough for a day or two.
So no, he can’t listen to music. Izuku has gotten sneakier and sneakier every time. Katsuki will take his eyes off the bowl for one fucking second, and boom, there’s Izuku with his dirty ass fingers in the bowl. He doesn’t even have the decency to wash his hands, for god's sake! Katsuki mentally prepared himself for the disaster he was about to throw himself into. He just wanted a fucking cookie.
He started prepping the ingredients, never turning his back to the door. Izuku’s bedroom door was still closed, but he was home. Katsuki could hear his music. Lucky fucker, getting to listen to music without being worried about getting robbed in his own home.
Flour. Baking soda. Salt. Not the part Izuku cares about. Katsuki quickly combined the dry ingredients so he could move on to his favorite part. The clock was ticking, Izuku’s sixth sense would be kicking in soon.
He tossed the butter, brown sugar, granulated sugar, and vanilla extract into a separate bowl. He opted not to use the stand mixer. The stand mixer was for pussies. He refused to take the easy way out. He always used a regular whisk. It was the only way to make sure that it was done right. He needed the butter and sugar creamed perfectly, and if he wasn’t doing it himself and watching it every step of the way, it would get fucked up. Obviously.
Katsuki spent the next eight minutes whisking vigorously. His arm was starting to get sore from the repetitive movement, but he would never admit that to anyone. And that’s when he heard the first noise.
It was just a creak. Izuku’s door was still closed, and the music was still playing, but there was a creak. He definitely didn’t imagine it. Katsuki scanned the kitchen quickly, but there was no sign of curly green hair. He even took it upon himself to check the other side of the counter near the floor, in case Izuku was hiding from him. Nothing.
Katsuki returned to his ingredients. It was time to add the eggs, something he could not be interrupted doing. It took precision, caution, and expertise. He had to add them one by one, mixing thoroughly. It was not something that any average person could do well, in Katsuki’s opinion.
“Kacchan.” Katsuki shrieked, something he would never admit to later, and he whirled around, holding the whisk out in front of him like a weapon. Izuku had suddenly appeared behind him. Katsuki had never seen him leave his room. How did he even get here?
“Go away,” Katsuki said. He refused to turn his back now.
“I was just coming to see what you were up to!” Izuku said, flashing him a smile. Other people may not see it, but Katsuki can. Katsuki can see the evil behind it.
“Just baking. I’ll leave you extras,” he said, “Now leave me alone.”
“Okay Kacchan,” Izuku said. Katsuki watched as Izuku made his way back into his room, and he definitely did not get so distracted by his ass that he forgot he was supposed to be whipping the eggs into the dough.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed. He had one job! He started mixing them in again, one by one, and he was surprised that he wasn’t interrupted again.
Now came the risky part. He needed to mix the dry ingredients into the butter and sugar mix. It was the part that Izuku liked the most. The part where the dough came together and it was edible. Katsuki had warned him over one hundred times about salmonella, but Izuku was apparently ready to accept his fate. Katsuki did another visual sweep of the kitchen. Nothing.
He started slowly, adding bit by bit and mixing. Another part, more mixing. And then even more mixing. It was all just a lot of mixing, honestly.
Suddenly, Katsuki’s blood ran cold. He forgot to preheat the oven. This was his worst nightmare. If he was baking a cake, it wouldn’t be as bad. But he didn’t want his precious cookie dough sitting out on the counter, vulnerable, for longer than it had to. He was scared.
He had finished combining the ingredients so he finally stepped away to preheat the oven. 190 degrees celsius. He hummed to himself a little bit, wishing he could put on his music. Sighing he turned back around and-
Fucking Izuku had his hands in the fucking bowl and was eating the dough like Katsuki hadn’t just spent twenty minutes making it for himself.
“Get out of my fucking kitchen!” Katsuki screeched. He practically lunged across the counter and snatched the bowl away like Izuku was a rabid animal. All Izuku did was laugh and lick his fingers clean of Katsuki’s hard work.
“I pay for this kitchen too,” Izuku said, “and I paid for half of those groceries.” Katsuki had never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as he did at that moment.
“Doesn’t matter. Get out. I said I’d leave you some fucking cookies,” Katsuki said.
“But I want the dough,” Izuku whined, doing his best to look like a lost little puppy. Katsuki knew better. Do not give in, do not give in, do not give in. He’s evil, he’s tricking you, he just wants the dough. Do not give in.
“Fucking fine. One more bite. That’s it. The rest is going in the oven.” Izuku’s face lit up immediately.
“You’re the best!” He ran around the counter with a spoon that he pulled out of the drawer on his way by.
“Just one bite,” Katsuki said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Izuku muttered. And then he proceeded to take the most substantial, enormous bite that Katsuki has ever witnessed in his entire life.
“That was FIVE FUCKING COOKIES WORTH OF DOUGH!”
“FUCK OFF KACCHAN, LET ME HAVE THIS.”