Work Text:
Izuku is minding his business, trying to get to the bakery that’s a fifteen-minute walk from his apartment because he has to cover a shift that he’d asked to get off for the release of his book, something he was trying hard not to talk about. Ochako called in and claimed he said he would come in for her because of course she did, and now he’s rushing to the bakery on late notice. He’s not paying attention to where he’s walking, too busy messaging Shouto and Hitoshi about having to cancel their meet-up because of what Ochako did.
He goes from looking at his phone to staring at a collarbone peeking out of a sweatshirt that’s shifted with the hood off to the side as his body pressed against another, cheek against a muscled chest.
All he registers for a moment is the warmth of the body he’s pressed against, feeling the chest heave underneath him with breaths that puff across his hair as his hands clench soft fabric, phone caught between fingers and cloth. He’s frozen against this body, not even realizing how close he’d come to stepping into the road by accident while he was walking, too close to the cars still steadily speeding past them.
“You okay?” a rough, bass voice rumbles through Izuku’s body in a sweet way.
“Hmm? Yeah, I- yeah, I’m okay… sorry about that.” whispers Izuku before he awkwardly jolts backwards, cheeks bright red and green eyes wide with panic.
“Don’t apologize, I just saw and fuckin’ reacted. I’m glad you’re okay.” grumbles that voice again as Izuku’s panicked brain takes in the gorgeous blonde man in front of him, just slightly taller than him, but definitely more built than he is.
“I- t-thank you.” Izuku bows and stutters as his mind brings some highly inappropriate images up of him straddling that small waist, feeling the muscles on this man, ooh. “I- how could I repay you?”
“Please don’t bow, it’s fuckin’ awkward, and you have no reason to.” grumbles the deep voice of the blonde man, and Izuku straightens up, green meeting red like a strike of lightning. “You know what, freckles? How about you give me your number and let me take you out one night?”
Izuku gapes at him, shocked by the forwardness and the “freckles” thing, but then he’s mentally thanking Ochako for deciding to lie.
“I-uh- I can- I can do t-that, uh- i-if you really want me to, I can- yeah, s-sur-sure.” stutters Izuku as he looks at the other man, uncertain as he forces himself to agree because he wants to, he really wants to.
“Good, put your phone number in, freckles, and I’ll tell you my name when I text you.” replies the man with a wink as he pulls out his phone and holds it in the space between them, half-smirk curving those pretty lips.
Izuku takes the phone with a stuttered, “O-okay, I- o-okay.”
Then he types in his number and puts the contact under Freckles because that’s what the man’s calling him anyways. When he hands the phone back, his own phone buzzes, and he’s brought back to Earth.
“I’ll-” the man goes to speak as Izuku reads the text, and he cuts him off with a gasp, “Sorry, I gotta go- thank you though! Bye pretty boy!”
Izuku turns and takes off running down the street in a panic because he has five minutes to get to work or he loses half of his shifts for the next two weeks as the first warning. The panic far outweighs his excitement and hope, so he’s lost in it until he reaches the bakery. But then he’s thrown into work as soon as he steps inside, forgetting all about the encounter as he gets his apron on and steps behind the display case with a winning, work smile curving his lips. Izuku slips into work mode with an ease that comes from working at this bakery for three and a half years and having to be the smiley one even when his day is shit.
He doesn’t remember what happened until he’s finally got a break from customers four hours later. He grabs a muffin to eat, ringing himself up and paying for it, before he heads to the door and locks it up while switching the “open” sign to “closed”. Then he’s settling at the closest table and pulling his phone out to see if he has any messages.
Unknown: Hey, freckles, you took off before I could get your name and confirm something.
Unknown: Hope you didn’t feel coerced or forced into giving me your fuckin’ number since you took off like that.
Unknown: Tell me if you did, and I’ll stop messaging you. I don’t wanna fuckin’ force you.
Unknown: If you didn’t, then let me know and I’ll tell you my name… Though I guess I fuckin’ liked the way you said “pretty boy” … so maybe you don’t need my name.
Unknown: You better not have- well actually, if this isn’t freckles, keep ignoring me because I would deserve to be given the wrong number.
Izuku chokes on his bite of strawberry muffin, then he’s dropping the muffin, crumbs and all, onto the table and quickly typing because he needs to reassure this man.
Freckles: Pretty boy, it’s me. Hi, I’m Izuku, and I wouldn’t give you the wrong number or purposefully ignore you unless I was uncomfortable. But I was far from uncomfortable earlier, I swear.
Freckles: Sorry, I had to rush to work because a coworker lied and claimed that I agreed to cover her despite it being my day off after requesting it two weeks ago for something important. My manager said they were gonna take half my shifts if I wasn’t there in five.
Freckles: I made it, but I also got another day off because of being dragged into work on this one. Probably going to piss my coworker off when she finds out that I showed our manager her messages about how she lied and why I needed to cover for her so she could go on a date.
“Izuku, I’m almost done back here. All you gotta do is finish sweeping up there, and we’re ready to head out for the night!” calls Keigo loudly from the kitchen where he was supposed to be finishing the dishes.
“Alright, I’m almost done with my muffin, then I’ll finish the sweeping!” calls Izuku as he forces himself to finish the muffin in two large bites before moving to do exactly that.
Keigo comes around to the front to deal with the money before heading to the safe with it along with the paperwork while Izuku sweeps the entire bakery and wipes down the tables before stacking the chairs on top of them. When Izuku picks his phone up again, he has a message waiting for him from Pretty boy, and he clicks on it before quickly editing his contact to Pretty Boy ahead of reading the message.
Pretty Boy: Hi, Izuku, I’m Katsuki. Did you know your name can be read as Deku? Kinda funny, so I just might have to call you that now. Glad to know I didn’t make you uncomfortable or some shit, though I wouldn’t hold it against you if I did. When’s your next free night?
Izuku snorts as he reads the message before he starts tapping on his screen.
Freckles: You call me Deku, and I’m gonna call you something equally as funny like… uhhh…
Freckles: Kacchan! I’ll call you Kacchan!
Freckles: My next free night is tomorrow actually because I get off at 3:30 and am clear for the rest of the night, why?
“Alright, Keigo, I’m gonna head out if there’s nothing else.” says Izuku as he steps up to the door, hand on the handle.
“See ya in a couple days! Don’t forget to block Uraraka on everything outside of the work chat app, Zawa said he’d handle her, but you should report any other interactions to him.” calls Keigo as he steps back into view with a bag swung over his shoulder.
“Will do, see ya!” replies Izuku as he pushes the door open and heads outside with a wave over his shoulder.
He presses the door shut and checks that it’s still locked, then he turns and starts walking in the direction of his apartment while looking down at his phone.
Pretty Boy: I was thinking we could go out on your next free night, if you were up for it at least. Figured we could check out a diner that’s not far from where we met and maybe hit up the arcade that’s around the block from it, but only if you want to.
He chuckles to himself, looking up once before he crosses the empty street over to the side he needs to be on, and then he starts typing.
Freckles: That sounds like a perfect plan to me, dinner and a bit of arcade time… sounds like a blast of fun waiting to happen. But what’s with this uncertainty, pretty boy? You seemed pretty confident when you talked to me earlier.
Izuku looks up as he makes his way through another intersection, tucking his phone into his pocket as he quickly ducks down an alleyway. He makes his way down the alley, crossing through to the other side of the road, then he turns right and heads up to the door of his building. He heads inside as his phone starts to buzz with a phone call, and he tugs it out to see Ochako’s name taking over his phone screen.
“Dammit.” murmurs Izuku as he clicks to end the call, tapping furiously at his phone to get the contact open before she calls again. “Don’t try to call me again yet, dammit, don’t call me again.”
“Hey, little listener, what’re you cursing for?”
Izuku looks up, feeling caught at the sound of Hizashi’s voice, and he smiles sheepishly as he replies, “Nothing important, Zashi, promise. I hope your night at the radio station went better than last night.”
“It went fine, but don’t think Sho didn’t tell me about that brat that’s giving you trouble at work.” says Hizashi while arching a brow, daring Izuku to try to deny what his husband clearly told him.
Izuku grimaces before he stares at his phone again, watching Ochako’s name flash across the screen yet again, and he says, “Okay, yeah, she did give me trouble and is calling me right now because I haven’t had the chance to block her yet.”
“Haven’t had the chance to- Sho said he told Keigo to tell you to block her half an hour after you started your shift. I know you had work, but I also know you took at least ten minutes after closing time to munch and be on your phone. You had the chance, little listener, so why didn’t you take it?” asks Hizashi as he comes out from behind the desk that he typically avoids going behind because of Tenko constantly giving him shit for the guests he brings on his radio show.
“I was busy with something else. Look, she’s off my phone now, so I’m gonna block her.” huffs Izuku as he shows the older man his phone screen before quickly finishing his task of blocking the contact.
“Ah, ah, ah, hold on a second, little listener, I saw the word “Pretty” on that phone of yours.” replies Hizashi as he leans forward at his hip, smirking when Izuku’s eyes go wide.
He’s been caught out by his favorite radio show host, temporary neighbor, and his boss’ husband all because he showed his phone to “defend” himself.
Izuku’s brows scrunch together as he glares down at his phone instead of meeting the older man’s eyes as his cheeks heat up with an embarrassed blush, and he mutters, “Not important. I’m goin’ to my apartment.”
“Little listener,” Hizashi’s voice takes on a singsong tone, and Izuku glances up at him before dashing towards the stairwell to avoid what’s coming. “Hey, at least walk so you don’t fall up the stairs again, kid!”
“Shush it, Zashi!” calls Izuku over his shoulder, though he does in fact slow down because the bruises took weeks to go away last time.
When he gets to his apartment, Izuku lets himself look at his phone again as he flops across his couch.
Pretty Boy: I wasn’t the one who went from stuttery to calling me Pretty boy before taking off, Freckles. I’m still confident, but your ass took a damn second to respond. I was fuckin’ concerned I overstepped or fucked up somehow.
Pretty Boy: And you’re awfully fuckin’ confident over text, ya know? Gonna be this confident when I see you again, or am I gonna get those adorable stutters?
Freckles: You didn’t overstep or fuck up, I just had to hurry to work to avoid losing shifts which I managed to save them by the way. Though my co-worker is definitely mad at me about everything that happened because I think she got in trouble for lying.
Freckles: I’m probably gonna stutter again, have you seen you, pretty boy? Though I usually stutter, so who knows what’ll happen when we see each other again for our plans.
Freckles: Is this going to be a date?
Freckles: That was probably a really stupid question, huh? Sorry, ignore that.
Izuku drops his phone into his lap and runs a hand down his face with a loud groan because of course he’s being dumb all because the man texted him about meeting up for what could be a date. He’s making assumptions that he really shouldn’t make, and he wonders if he can somehow blame this on the fact that he’s tired.
“Can’t blame your own thoughts on being tired when you would’ve had them while wide awake too.” mutters Izuku to himself as he stares up at the ceiling, head pressing harshly into the armrest of his plush couch.
Leaving his phone behind, he forces himself up, planning to go make some leftovers, but then he freezes as his phone goes off from the couch. Izuku turns right around and heads back for his phone, hoping it’s not him because he was just being so stupid, and he sees immediately that he’s wrong once he gets there.
Pretty Boy: Hold up- I was gonna wait until we met up again to ask about this, but did your coworker seriously lie to get out of going to work for a fucking date? And now, if so, I need to know if they were meeting with Eijirou because my dumbass friend called to rant about his date and then had to go because of texts that, according to him, gave this vibe.
Pretty Boy: Also, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like this to be a date. I don’t give my number out to people I don’t wanna take on a date, Freckles, and I damn sure don’t invite ‘em out unless I really wanna take ‘em on a date.
Pretty Boy: My dumbass friends didn’t get my number until last year, and I’ve known them for six. To be fair though, I refused to have a phone for my personal life until two years ago, but we also work together, so emails were easier.
Pretty Boy: Don’t judge me for that, either. Not my damn fault! I work for a big ass company and do radio shit, so I’m constantly using the work phone and answering stupid ass emails.
Izuku watches as the dots finally disappear, and he rereads the messages, snorting to himself at the indignation he can feel through the phone as well as the amusement.
Freckles: Firstly, I’ll start with I’d really like this to be a date… Very much so, actually.
Freckles: So, Eijirou is the one she texted me about which means your friend should probably run if he doesn’t like her already. She’s pretty good at getting people to like her long enough for her three-date quota before she finds them a bed and starts leaving them on read.
Freckles: I could tell you the whole story now, but I think that’ll wait until tomorrow. She did get in trouble though, but I’m also hoping this means I won’t get stuck working the same shifts as her since I’m supposed to block her everywhere except for the app we use for work.
Freckles: No judgment here, I used to have a pager instead of a phone during high school cause my mom is a nurse. I got a phone a few years ago when I moved out. Wish I didn’t let certain people have my number, but ya know, life.
Freckles: What “radio shit” do you do? I know someone in the business, and I’m curious if our lives have overlapped in any other way that we don’t know of.
Freckles: Sorry for all the messages…
Izuku walks himself into the kitchen with his phone, setting it on the counter before he goes over to his refrigerator. Opening the door, his eyes immediately latch onto the leftover spicy ramen from his favorite ramen stall down the road, and he grabs it without a second thought. For the next few minutes, Izuku gets out a bowl, dumps his food into one, and gets it heating up in the microwave while his phone buzzes a few times on the counter. He grabs his phone, sees it’s a couple messages from Kacchan as well as two messages from Zawa and a message in the employee chat, and he slips the phone into his pocket rather than reading what’s sent as his microwave beeps. He pulls out his bowl and heads back to the living room, settling on the floor to sit at his coffee table while getting the TV turned onto his favorite conspiracy theory YT channel, Shouto’s. IcyHot Theory’s theme song plays as he pulls his phone out and starts to work his way through his messages.
Izuku scrolls his notifications, debating what to start with before sighing in defeat, “Work stuff first, pretty boy next.”
Zawa: If Uraraka reaches out to you again, you need to message me about it. I’ve also fired her, so she’s not going to bother you again. She’s also been banned from the bakery, and I’m going to spend the next month at the bakery all day in case she shows up anyway.
Zawa: Don’t blame yourself for this either, Dabi and Keigo have both reported her to me previously for other instances, this was her official third strike outside of the warnings. She knew it was going to happen, if not today, another day. She caused this, not you or anyone else.
Izuku sighs and reacts to the messages with a thumbs-up rather than responding because he knows that Aizawa is probably already laying down for bed with Zashi. He moves over to their app for their work messages and sees that all that’s there is a simple message from Zawa saying that Uraraka is fired and banned from the shop, and he will be in the bakery storefront for the next month to ensure she doesn’t show up. He also says simply that there is no blame to be passed, but if she reaches out to anyone to send him the messages because he will get it handled.
Izuku: Thanks for letting us know, Zawa.
He moves on from the messages, clicking on his text messages, and switching to Pretty Boy’s.
Pretty Boy: I will be relaying that to his dumbass right now then. He’s been on two dates, and I’m sure this will give him the confidence to get rid of her “politely” because he’s a “manly man” who is honest and kind to a fuckin’ fault. Though I am more interested in your situation than his complaints and shit that I’m gonna deal with after my message.
Pretty Boy: A pager? That’s interesting. My parents used their phones for business calls and emails, but they had other phones for personal shit. When I finally got a personal phone, they gave me so much shit for becoming like them after I refused for so long.
Pretty Boy: You better have blocked her, and if she gives you shit, be sure to tell your boss.
Pretty Boy: Radio shit is on Mic’s show. I come on as a guest every fuckin’ Monday because he’s a family friend.
Pretty Boy: Don’t apologize for the messages. If I didn’t want you to message me a shit ton, I wouldn’t have wanted your damn number. But I did want your number, which means if you stop texting me a shit ton, imma be pissed… unless you decide you don’t want shit to do with me because I’ll understand that. Just fuckin’ tell me, and I’ll back the hell off.
Pretty Boy: I gotta get to bed, got a stupid ass meeting about my project, so good night. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow around 5-5:30, if that’s alright.
Freckles: I’ll avoid talking too much as you’re going to bed, but we have a lot to talk about tomorrow because I know Hizashi very well, as well as his show and your appearances, if my guess isn’t wrong. I’ll see you tomorrow around 5-5:30, and all I gotta know is where I’m meeting you. Sweet dreams, Kacchan.
Pretty Boy: I’ll pick you up, text more tomorrow though because I was supposed to be asleep an hour ago, don’t feel guilty for that! I’m very curious to know about how you know the loudmouth one. G’night, Deku. Sleep well, when you do.
Izuku puts his phone down with a goofy smile as he leaves their messages as they are, and he focuses on his video, eating as Shouto goes on about his newest conspiracy about why Tim Drake and Kon are in love and so are Damian, Jon, and Raven. He also mentions Bats and Superman getting it on, which Izuku shakes his head about because while he wouldn’t be surprised, he definitely thinks if they did, Lois and Catwoman are definitely the reasons for it.
Izuku falls asleep on the floor, his back and head pressing into his couch, with Shouto’s voice going on and on about the interconnections between the Bat family and the Super family and why he’s right. But all he’s dreaming of is this first date with the stranger that saved him from stepping into the street.