Work Text:
"Dynamight Industries IT department, this is Katsuki, how can I help you."
"Um, ah– I don't really know–” The customer babbles, clearly stressed. Katsuki makes a face as the person on the other end sniffles. He doesn’t get many criers but, hey, everybody’s different.
“Everything alright over there?” he says, only to hear what sounds like a stack of papers being knocked over as the customer scrambles for the phone. “That didn’t sound good.”
“Nothing is going my way today,” the customer whimpers, and Katsuki can practically hear him deflate. “I just sorted those, and I can’t get to my presentation deck for later because I got locked out of my computer, and I forgot my umbrella today, and–”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa," Katsuki says. “You’re just locked out?”
“Y-yeah.”
“The hell are you crying for, that's an easy fix."
“Oh,” the customer says, sniffling again. "Are you allowed to talk to customers like that?"
"Hah," Katsuki laughs. "No."
And maybe it would be more of a problem if he wasn't so goddamn good at his job, but he is; he’s fucking incredible. He doesn’t piss on the people who don’t know the difference between their desktop and a web browser, and he doesn’t go complaining to his manager whenever he mistakenly ends up in the Tech 1 support queues like what happened today. He's already got the password reset screen up and ready to go and can make this person’s day infinitely better in less than three minutes. Why? Because he's Bakugou fucking Katsuki.
"Just give me your name and employee ID, alright?" he says. "I'll take care of it."
"Okay." The person on the other end takes a shaky breath. "It's Midor– uku– and my ID is Midoriya01."
Katsuki blinks.
“Can you repeat your name, uh– Deku, was it? You cut out for a sec.”
“Oh.” They laugh wetly. “Sorry, it’s Izuku. Midoriya Izuku. Did you get it that time?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve–”
“Oh, it’s fine," Izuku says a little less miserably. There's even a hint of a smile that Katsuki doesn't miss. "People mix it up all the time. Not with- Not with that, but I really don't mind."
“Alrighty then, Deku,” Katsuki teases, then listens as Izuku blubbers back something unintelligible. Despite the bad day, he really does seem like a good guy. “I’ll have a temporary password for you in a minute, alright? Just hang tight.”
“S-sure,” Izuku says, clearly embarrassed as Katsuki puts his name into the system. Must just be the kind of guy he is. Easy to talk to, even easier to turn his face the color of their company logo. Probably stops to help every old hag he sees on the street too.
After a moment, Izuku clears his throat.
“Thanks, Katsuki." he says, and Katsuki’s stomach does a stupid little flip.
“Wow, nobody ever remembers the name of the IT guy. You some kinda nerd?”
“Oh, um–” Izuku stammers. “I didn’t–”
“Didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Katsuki chuckles. “You forget who you're talking to?”
“Oh,” Izuku laughs. “Right. Yeah, I guess I probably am then. Just with– um, numbers. Not computers. I'm really bad with computers, but you already know that." He laughs again, and, fuck, it’s a really nice laugh. One that Katsuki remembers well after he's ended the call and sent Izuku on his way.
“Looks like somebody had a good day today,” Eijirou tells him on his way out of the office that night. "What happened? You get a raise?”
Katsuki’s face burns. “None of your damn business, shitty hair.”
“Ooh,” Eijirou’s eyes sparkle. “You only look like that when–”
“Fuck you!” Katsuki barks, then hurries off toward the station. It’s not like he’ll ever talk to Izuku again anyway, so why should he need to tell anybody that he–
That he-
Katsuki freezes in the middle of the sidewalk.
Fucking hell.
***
The following week, Katsuki forgets all about Midoriya Izuku. (He doesn’t. But that’s what he tells himself every time he answers the phone and it’s somebody else.) His head is a fucking mess and it’s all that little nerd’s fault. The least he could do is call back and–
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Groaning, Katsuki pulls his headset over his ears and punches the button to accept the call.
"Dynamight Industries IT department, this is Katsuki, how can I help you."
“Oh, K-katsuki!” Katsuki's heart pounds. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I– I called earlier this week because I was locked out of my computer, and now–”
“Hey, hey, slow down,” he manages. “‘Course I remember you.”
“You do?” Izuku’s voice perks up a little at the end, and Katsuki drops his head into his hands.
Shit.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he says. “What’s up with your computer today?”
There’s a deep breath on the other end before Izuku all but wails, “My instant messenger keeps showing me as offline when I’m not. I’m here! I’m connected to the internet! I can see the little swoopy lines that say I am! And whenever I try to switch my status back to online it just keeps showing me offline! And I don’t want to be offline! What if people can’t reach me? They’ll just send me more emails and I already have too many emails! Am I doing something wrong? Am I–”
“Izuku, Izuku, holy shit–” Katsuki huffs out a laugh as Izuku takes in a few gasping breaths. “The app doesn’t fucking work, alright? It’s not you. It sucks.”
“It’s not me?” Izuku sounds so relieved. “Why do they use something that sucks?”
“Job security..." Katsuki shrugs. "Stupid corporate bullshit... something like that.”
Izuku laughs so hard he sobs.
“Hey, don't worry. The old version is better,” Katsuki says. “You can just use that one.”
“C-can I?”
“‘Course you can, I said so!”
“You do a lot of things you say you shouldn’t be doing,” Izuku says.
“Yeah, well- they know their app sucks, so you don’t even need anybody’s permission to do it, alright? You just gotta go into the settings and click a little button that says you wanna use the old version, and you’re good to go.”
“Oh,” Izuku shuffles around on the other end. “Settings... Old version... Oh, that worked! I’m back online!”
“What’d I say,” Katsuki smirks. “And if it ever reverts back, just click that same button again.”
“Okay,” Izuku says. “Will it do that?"
"Probably. It sucks remember."
"Okay," Izuku laughs. "Thanks, Ka…a–ah–a choo!” The line prickles with static, then clears.
“Uh–” Katsuki shifts in his seat. There's no way he heard that right. “Did you– Did you just call me Kacchan?”
“What?!” It sounds like Izuku drops the phone. “No, I– I just sneezed, I didn’t– I’m so sorry!”
“Oh,” Katsuki covers his mouth and laughs. “It sounded– y’know what, never mind.”
“I really didn’t–”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Katsuki says. “You can call me whatever you want, Deku.”
“Isn’t that kind of unprofessional?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to—the CEO?” Katsuki swivels around in his chair only to end up meeting his supervisor’s glare at the other end of the room. “A-anyway,” he chokes on a laugh as he swivels back. “I gotta run. Do you need anything else today or can I set you loose back into the wild?”
“Nope, all good for now.” Izuku says. “Thanks, Kacchan.”
“Later nerd.” Katsuki says, then hangs up the phone.
Three seconds later, he realizes.
“You look all hot and bothered again,” Eijirou tells him that night, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ready to talk about it yet? I’ll buy you a drink if you–”
“Not a chance in hell.” Katsuki says. He spends the rest of his night in his bathroom with his face under the faucet, ice cold water doing absolutely fucking nothing for the heat in his skin.
Kacchan, unfortunately, has a nice ring to it.
***
Like every other day that week, Katsuki slumps into his desk each morning with a coffee in his hands, a frown on his face, and an article titled top ten ways to ask out a coworker on his phone. Lucky for him, every single one of them sucks because they all assume you fucking work with your coworker in person. But Katsuki might actually go insane if he doesn’t take Izuku out for dinner, so here he is, looking at the article anyway.
He’s desperate.
He’s–
"Dynamight Industries IT department, this is Katsuki, how can I help you."
“Kacchan, I need your help! It just started– It’s smoking, please help!”
“It's smoking?!" Katsuki's chair screeches and tips back behind him as he stands. "And you decided to call me before anyone else?! Turn it off! Unplug it! What the fuck!”
“I did, I did! It’s– Okay, I think it stopped smoking now, but it still smells really bad.”
“Jesus christ.” Katsuki pinches his nose with his fingers. “You have the worst computer luck, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.” There’s a beat of silence, then Izuku exhales. “Soo, can you help me?”
“I– god, I don’t fucking know. Let me– shit, do you work in the office?”
“Yeah, I’m on the fifth floor, cubicle 20.”
Oh.
Have they ever passed each other in the elevator? Has Katsuki ever flipped him off for taking too long to order his lunch?
“I, uh– Is it alright if I come take a look at it?”
“Oh!” Izuku squeaks. “Yes! I mean yes please! You can!”
Laughing a little, Katsuki runs his hands through his hair. “Alright, uh… just give me a sec, I’ll be up in a minute.”
God, he hopes not.
It takes longer than a minute because he spends at least a five pacing the hall outside the elevator before finally deciding to take the stairwell. Getting the extra anxiety out before meeting Izuku seems like a good idea until he gets to the fifth floor, sees cubicle 20 with Midoriya Izuku stamped across the nameplate, and his blood slows to a crawl in his veins.
“Hey, you called?” he finally manages, knocking on the side of the cubicle. Immediately, Izuku spins in his chair to face him, eyes puffy, and Katsuki's heart stutters.
He's cute—green hair all rumpled and fluffy like he didn't get enough sleep. Maybe never does. He must work a lot, which– well, no wonder he's got so many computer problems. Fucker probably never restarts it.
"Kacchan," Izuku says, relieved.
"Thought I told you to stop cryin' about this shit.”
Izuku hiccups through a laugh. "Sorry, I didn’t know what else to do and–"
"Don't apologize for that." Katsuki frowns as he shoos Izuku out of his chair to swap places. “You look like you could use a coffee or something," he fumbles in his pocket and shoves a couple bills into Izuku's hands. "It's on me. I need a few minutes here anyway."
Izuku glances down at the money in his hands, then back at Katsuki.
"You're buying me coffee?"
"Damn right."
"Okay," he says. There’s a smile in his voice, even though Katsuki doesn’t turn around to see it.
Should he… Shouldn’t he…
Deciding to chance it, he says, "You can get me one next time," then glances behind him as Izuku's tired features morph into a mix of happiness and surprise.
"Really?"
"If you want."
Eagerly, Izuku nods before turning and scurrying off in the direction of the coffee shop, and Katsuki, feeling more triumphant than ever, turns back to the computer. (Whether or not he spends the first few minutes grinning stupidly as he works is between him and the security cameras.)
Unfortunately, he quickly realizes that even the best goddamn computer specialist in the world wouldn't be enough to resuscitate whatever the fuck happened to this one—a lesson Izuku also learns when he returns with the coffee.
"It's gone," Katsuki has to tell him. "You're definitely gonna need a new one."
Izuku cries until Katsuki wipes the tears from his cheeks and assures him that all of his work was backed up on the company network.
"Oh thank god," Izuku sobs. "I was working so hard on the sheets for Uraraka, and Iida needs a report first thing on Friday, and–"
"You're such a crybaby," Katsuki snorts before pulling him into a hug.
"I know," Izuku says, voice muffled by Katsuki's shirt. "Thank you, Kacchan. Can I give you my number in exchange for the coffee?"
***
That night, Katsuki finally takes Eijirou out to the bar like he asked and shows him Izuku’s profile on the company portal.
“That’s him?” Eijirou awws over his photo. “He’s so manly!”
“Quit looking at him,” Katsuki says, grabbing the phone back and pocketing it as Eijirou laughs. "He's mine."
(And he is. Katsuki's got a dinner date next Friday to prove it.)