Work Text:
Ochako was perched on the kitchen counter, mouthing the words to a song and watching her cup of instant ramen spin around in the microwave. Distant sounds of gunfire floated in from the common room as Sero and Kirishima began another round of whatever new shooting game Mineta had bootlegged.
They were supposed to start movie night in a few minutes, but most of the class were still in their rooms and the boys were too invested in their video game to budge for anyone, so it would be awhile. Ochako wasn't complaining. This just meant more time to grab snacks to munch on during the movie.
She hopped off the counter and made her way into the pantry, flipping the light switch and looking around for her miserable stash of goodies. She tended to squeeze her stuff into the very back of the shelf out of sight, not because she was embarrassed or anything! It was really just a precaution.
Some of her classmates (see: Midoriya) developed a sort of tunnel vision when they got hungry and just grabbed anything in sight. Of course he payed everything back in good time whenever that happened, along with several apologies ("It won't happen again, I swear!") but Ochako didn't think she could handle her strawberry mochi collection being broken into one more time.
She fished the plastic bag out from beneath a cardboard box full of seaweed flavored crackers and gave it a good shake to get rid of the dust. Peering inside, she realized with a brief pang of disappointment that there were only four of them left. She narrowed her eyes.
"I really hope Deku hasn't been in here."
Deciding to treat herself to the last four strawberry mochi, she gripped the bag and exited the small room, heart stuttering when she caught sight of Bakugou kicked back on the couch, observing the game with his sharp calculating gaze.
When had he gotten here?
He'd probably kick someone out of the next round and proceed to decimate the competition. She chuckled to herself at the thought as she popped open the microwave and dished her noodles into a bowl. She stood back and observed the spread. In addition to the mochi and the noodles, Tsuyu had given her an extra ice cream sandwich and she'd found a leftover pack of chocolates from White Day.
Ochako hoped she didn't look too hungry taking all this out.
"Ochako~chaaan!" Mina sang, striding into the kitchen. "You done in here? We finally settled on a movie!"
At the mention of her name, Bakugou glanced away from the TV screen towards the kitchen. Suddenly there seemed to be a more fun way to spend his time this evening.
Ochako perked up as her friend slid up next to her. "Oh! Without me?"
"You'll love it! It's the one we watched with the girls way back in first year," she leaned in and took a whiff of the food. "Mmmm. This smells good!"
"I know, right!"
Mina reached out and nabbed a heart shaped chocolate. “Need help taking this out?“ Ochako nodded.
“Thanks! You can go ahead with the chocolates and stuff,“ she threw over her shoulder, floating up and sticking her head into a cupboard. “I think I wanna put some cheese on my noodles.“
“No problem.“ Mina replied. “Saving you a seat on the long couch!“
There’s more sounds of gunfire from the living room, followed by a stern warning from Jirou to quit the game after the next round so they could finally watch the movie.
‘I’d better hurry up in here.’ Ochako thought, spying the half empty bag of shredded mozarella cheese. It belonged to Aoyama, but. he never minded sharing. It was practically a household item at this point.
Besides, she was only going to take a little.
She mumbled a ‘release‘ and dropped a few feet, a pair of solid arms catching her around the waist.
“Gotcha.“
“B-Bakugou!?“ She gasped, a violent flush creeping up her cheeks at the nearness of his voice.
“Angel Face,“ he smiled, pressing his face into the skin of her neck before placing her gently on the ground. “Thought you weren’t coming.“
Ochako, still in a state of flustered shock, attempted a casual glance over her shoulder, immediately averting her gaze at the sight of his well built frame leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I-I was! I am! I’ve just been—um—getting some snacks for me and the girls.“ she spluttered, gripping the bag of cheese for dear life as she walked over to her bowl of noodles. It didn’t help that he quickly moved to close the small distance between them, standing behind her and watching her sprinkle the cheese. The smell of his cologne, with a hint of burnt sugar, saturated the air around her, and she had to try really hard not to take a cartoonishly deep breath.
“This is junk food.“ He observed.
“So what if it is?“ she retorted, using her chopsticks to spread the melted cheese more evenly. “I’d take this stuff over whatever gross salad you like to eat any day.“
“Healthy shit doesn’t taste bad,“ he argued weakly, tugging on a lock of her hair. “You just ain’t cookin’ it right.“
“Of course,“ she nodded, taking a small bite to make sure it tasted right. “It must take a super skilled chef to turn dirt food, sorry, vegetables, into something edible.“
He snorted. “You can just say you’re complete shit at cooking, I won’t—oof!“
She cut him off with a firm jab to his stomach. “I’m good, actually.“
He sucked in a breath. “Dirty.“ he rasped, eyes molten as he gazed at her.
Fighting to keep the blush off her face, she gave her bowl a tap, letting it hover behind her as she took Aoyama’s cheese back to its cabinet.
“No funny business while I’m up here,“ she said, glancing at Bakugou. “Or while I’m coming down.“
He smirked, crossing his arms. “Whatever you say, Angel.“
It didn’t take her long to float up and return the mozarella, and his hands remained dutifully in his pockets.
Soon enough, they were exiting the kitchen area into the dark living room, where Iida was giving his pre movie disclaimers. Bean bags and pillows littered the floor, classmates packed together like sardines, while those on the couch lay almost on top of one another, trying and failing to share the two blankets available.
Ochako silently thanked her lucky stars for friends like Mina.
“Over here!“ the alien in question waved, the dim light of her phone screen sufficiently lighting the way. “Careful, it’s a tight squeeze.“
Ochako cautiously stepped over the bodies covering the floor, climbing over Ojiro’s tail and into the couch corner beside Mina.
“Jeez, did the whole class show up tonight?“ she whispered, tucking her legs up and scooching over to give everyone more space. Her noodles floated peacefully into her hands once she was settled.
“No kidding.“ Mina giggled. “ Someone must have mentioned the name of the movie, ‘cause next thing you know the whole antisocial club plus the nerds showed up.“
“Ah,“ Ochako looked round. “That explains Iida.“
A frustrated groan sounded from underneath the blankets to Mina’s right. “God, I wish he would just shut up and start the freaking movie!“
“There, there, Tooru.“ Ochako soothed, choosing a heart shaped chocolate and offering her.
The distinct smell of burnt sugar alerted her to Bakugou’s presence in the dark room. She could just make him out behind the couch, looming over them. His gaze slid to the space next to her, where Kaminari was currently snacking on potato chips.
“Oi. “ he growled, dropping his hands onto the blond’s shoulder. “Dunce Face.“
“Who-oh! Bakubro!“ Kaminari grinned up at him. “You want s-“
“Fuck off,“ Bakugou grunted in reply, shoving him off the couch. “And take your oversalted crap with you.“
Kaminari fell in a heap onto Sato and Shoji, his chips flying everywhere, but Bakugou didn’t give him a single thought more, vaulting over the couch and landing heavily next to Ochako. He made no effort to keep a respectable distance between them, nor did he pretend that the reason why his hands fell from the back of the couch to settle on her hip was to conserve body heat.
And as the first lines of ‘The Social Network’ played—the room plunging into complete darkness after Tsuyu has the sense to switch off the kitchen lights—he remained content to map the expanse of her face with his eyes, comitting every dimly lit detail to memory.
Ochako was, of course, deeply engrossed in the film, but she could still feel the intensity of his gaze as it seemed to light a burning path from the tips of her lashes to the edges of her fingers peeking out under the blanket.