Chapter Text
It seemed to be universally accepted that Bakugo did not indulge in sweets. No, he was more the type to spread peanut butter on a stick of celery and call that a suitable dessert. He constantly and consistently dispelled the need for those ‘useless fatty calories’ all the while spewing some nonsense about his body being the temple to get him to Number One.
But Ochako knew differently. Bakugo Katsuki had a weakness, and she’d be damned if she didn’t exploit that.
It hadn’t been easy though, and it had all been purely accidental.
The whole thing started with a coffee. Ochako had been part of the crew that had decided to stay up until some ungodly hour playing Super Smash Heroes, tourney style of course, before drifting off to sleep with her controller in hand. She couldn’t say for sure if it was Deku or Mina that had thoughtfully covered her in blankets, but she had been warm and cozy before a small crash woke her.
The sky was still a kind of sickly blue green color, just before dawn, but there was no denying the slew of whispered curses coming from the communal dorm kitchen.
With just the top of her head visible from the safety of the couch, she spotted the back of Bakugo crouched down with a rag and cleaning spray as he picked up pieces of a broken coffee mug. Despite the early hour he worked rather efficiently, and in Bakugo fashion, with undeniable perfection.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe she was an undiagnosed masochists, but whatever the reason, Ochako found herself blurting out, “tough morning, eh, Blasty?”
She hadn’t known it was possible to scare the prickly blond, and if she hadn’t been there to witness him wide-eyed and panicked herself, she probably would have never believed you.
“The actual fuck, Uraraka?! Why are you lingering around in the dark like some certifiable creeper?!”
With a stifled yawn she floated herself over the cushioned sofa, too tired to be bothered to use her legs, and landed a few feet before him. The smell of the fresh brewed coffee was intoxicating.
“Can I have some?”
“NO!”
“Pleaseeee?”
“I said NO!”
“Come onnnnnnnnnnnn…”
“Will it shut you up?!”
“…um, yes!”
“Fucking fine!”
Bakugo all but threw open the kitchen cabinet and secured two very much intact and identical ceramic mugs. He placed them as gentle as his temper would allow onto the countertop, not risking a repeat of earlier.
True to her word, Ochako kept her promise of silence as she sipped on her hot beverage and started rummaging through the pantry and fridge for something she could call breakfast.
In his own side of the kitchen, Bakugo was doing the same. He had prepared some salmon and was scooping out rice from the rice cooker onto his plate. It smelled incredible, heavenly, mouthwatering delicious, and like something straight out of a high-end restaurant.
“Can I-”
“Don’t even ask, Cheeks.”
She let the air from her cheeks pass through her mouth in a little huff, but ultimately decided she had pushed her luck enough with the coffee. Her oatmeal would be just as tasty. Probably. She tended to it on the stove, cutting up some fresh berries to toss in as some possible flavor enhancements, along with some honey and a bit of cinnamon she found high up in the pantry.
She saw Bakugo eyeing her choices from over his fish, as if it physically pained him to not criticize every delectable sweetener she added. Lucky for him, he seemed to have decided against the decision.
Ochako happily joined him at the table, humming to herself and digging into the meal she cooked, exaggerating the deliciousness if only to rub it in his pretty smug face. She was a few bites in when she noticed her coffee still perched on the counter nearby.
She smiled up at Bakugou, batting her eyes and about to ask him to retrieve it when he declared, “not a chance in hell, Round Face.”
She glared. But Ochako liked to prove how resourceful a girl she was. So of course, rather than actually getting up and grabbing it like any sane person, she decided to float it to herself.
“Ha!” she retorted, smirking at him and claiming her carefully won prize with a big sip of the still warm drink.
But it was not what she expected… It was creamy, flavored with vanilla and chai, and far, far sweeter than she was used to.
“What is it now?” Bakugo asked, seeing the odd face she was making in her state of confusion.
“The coffee, it’s sweet!” she explained, looking at him with a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
He scoffed, as if it was the stupidest thing he had heard in the whole thirty minutes he had been awake, “Obviously its sweet, you fucking made it that way.”
“Nooo…” Ochako drawled, her smile getting wider, “I drink my coffee black.”
Bakugo's fork stopped midway to his mouth, the realization hitting him. He scurried up from his seat and grabbed the cup from in front of her with a pissy look coloring his sharp features. He took a sip as confirmation, looking all the more agitated as he did.
“Oh my gosssssssh!”
He slapped a hand against her mouth in silence, “You tell any of those losers and you’re dead, you hear me? D-E-A-D, dead!”
But that wasn’t enough to stop the giggling that had overcome Ochako, the girl nearly falling from her seat as laughs racked her body.
“I can’t believe- hahaha- Mister ‘my body is a temple’ drinks pure sugar!” she cried out in between sobs of laughter, finding herself unable to catch her breath.
“I DO NOT!”
“You do too! Tell me, Princess, do you actually want any coffee with your milk and sugar?” she said, this time successfully falling onto the floor.
“OH FUCK YOU!”
Sitting up and rubbing away the tears that laughing had caused, she managed to get out, “Okay, okay, let’s make a deal.”
But Bakugo had stormed away and threw his dirty dishes into the sink with such force she was a little shocked they hadn’t shattered like the cup. She was afraid maybe she had crossed some line, had embarrassed him a bit too far, when he pulled up a chair and sat next to her.
“These are my terms, Moonface-”
“Moonface..?”
“Don’t interrupt! Yes, my terms. I will make you one, ONE, meal of your choice. In exchange you tell no, and I mean abso-fucking-lutly NO ONE how I take my coffee. Deal?”
From somewhere behind them the elevator was noisily coming to life, meaning any moment now the common area would no longer be just the two of them. This was truly a limited time offer, and a blessing she would be stupid to pass up.
“Make it a meal and dessert and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she declared, arm outstretched and awaiting his approval. He chewed his bottom lip, seeming to think if it was in fact worth the effort when the ding of the elevator went off. Without a glance back, he hurriedly grabbed her hand and shook it.
“Deal. Now scram.”
With a devilish smirk Ochako asked, “so, can I finish your coffee?”
“No, eat shit, it’s mine.”
And like that the moment was broken by the arrival of several other sleepy friends, each filling the space with their own words of good morning and the aromas of different breakfasts and freshly brewed cups of coffee.
So yes, Ochako would keep his secret, because being the only one who knew had her feeling part of something exceptional. Despite the profanities and the death threats, there was something kind of endearing knowing that this boy who was all harsh edges and words took his comfort in something so incredibly sweet…