Work Text:
Midoriya loved his friends, or at least, that’s what he kept reminding himself.
“I’m sorry, you what?” He says barely below a shout. His grip on his phone tightens as he stares at it as though it had committed the offense.
“I’m sorry, was I unclear? I said I hired you a personal chef.”
”I, no, I, you” He stammered. “Shoto! I can’t afford a personal chef!”
“You absolutely could if you didn’t donate 90 percent of your salary, but regardless, It’s on Endeavors card, so don’t worry.
“Please stop spending your father’s bribe money on me”
”It’s too late, besides, you need this.”
”But, I don’t want a stranger in my house!”
“You have no reason to worry, we already ran background checks on him.”
“Wait, We? Oh my god, this was Uraraka’s idea, wasn’t it?” He groaned, and heard what sounded like the phone being snatched out of Shoto’s hands.
”Of course it was. One of my genius plans.” Ochako’s voice, sounding very self assured.
“Uraraka! I can take care of myself! This is so unnecessary!” He half stated, half pouted.
”Izuku, honey, we both know that’s not true. When was the last time you ate a full three meals a day?”
Radio silence.
”Exactly. And when you do eat, it’s usually takeout or microwave ramen.”
“That’s still food!”
“Barely”
“But-“
“Sweetheart, nothing you can say will change my mind, stop trying.” She said, and from her voice, he knew she meant it. Arguing was futile.
He sighs “When do they start?”
”He starts tomorrow , he’ll be doing a full three meals a day, and as much as you forget to eat, I know you’ll eat his cooking because otherwise you’d be “inconveniencing him” or “wasting his time” or whatever.”
”Yeah” he admits in a grumble.
“Perfect! We understand each other then! I’ll be there tomorrow to show him around, because I know how you are with talking to new people, and to prevent you from trying to weasel your way out of this.”
”See you tomorrow.” He sighs tiredly and clicks his phone off.
His eyes flick over his messy apartment and he runs his hand through his disheveled hair, he has a lot of work to do.
~♠︎♥︎♦︎♣︎~
There were some perks to being a genius. Being scouted by his hero while in high school was one. Getting to work with said hero, and also some of the kindness and smartest people in the country, was one another. He got to work on things, products, medicines, that actually helped people. He was so, so lucky. It was easy to get swept up into the good though, and he, admittedly, often prioritized his work over his own needs.
The break from his work had been agonizingly long, and in that time he had taken out several bags of trash, deep cleaned the kitchen and common areas and showered. He practically ascended when he finally plopped himself back into his office chair and stared at the bright blue screen that had been plaguing his thoughts. He checks the time, 10:30, he could get a couple hours of work in tonight. Ochako and his new chef would be over around 10:00 tomorrow. Maybe he could just well up in his room and avoid them. Yeah, that sounds good.
~♠︎♥︎♦︎♣︎~
Not to brag (fuck that shit, he was definitely bragging) Katsuki has the best fucking job out there. Cooking whenever he wants, messing around with rich people shit, and occasionally taking rich snobs down a notch. Who cares if it gets him fired, being one of the best in the biz means he really doesn’t have to worry about employment anyway.
This being said, he was quick to accept the shit-ton he was being offered from the overeager girl and monotone guy on the other end, all for a simple 3 meal a day routine. Fucking rich people never know how much they’re overpaying, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. He packed his shit and turned in some hastily completed paper work to his current client, and headed out for the arranged meet up on his new employers.
He was… surprised, to see the destination. The house was by no means cheap looking, but no person paying so much for his services would live in such a small ass house . He didn’t know if it was refreshing or unerring, but he was leaning towards the latter. He parked and peered out, eyes landing on the brown haired girl by the front, “Ochako” he thought.
He briefly reconsidered his life choices as the round-faced girl bounded towards his car and waved.
“Hi! You’re the chef, right? Katsuki?”
“Yeah, one and only, is this the house?”
“Yeah! Sorry, Me and my friend Todoroki are the ones who hired you, but you’ll be cooking for our friend Midoriya, this is his place.” She said, waving him forward as she walked back towards the house. “He’s a bit of a wreck so we decided this was best” She continued, ringing the doorbell once and waiting three seconds before groaning and pulling out a spare key from her purse, waltzing in as if this is routine.
The interior was clean and homey, endearing, but once again out of character for a client of his. Pictures framed and hung on mint green walls with pale orange accents (garish as fuck, but he wasn’t an interior designer, and his favorite color was orange, so sue him if he kinda liked it) and mint condition comic book merch and memorabilia, shit that probably cost more than the house itself.
She guides him through the foyer to show him the kitchen, decent appliances, though they look utterly unused, hardly a scratch on the stove top present. This guy really was a deku in the kitchen, huh?
“Midoriya! We’re here!” She calls down the silent hallway, sounding mildly agitated before a look of realization dawns on her face and she continues to the next room, leaving him to trail behind like a fucking dog. She sighs, hands on her hips as she peers through the glass doors into the home office, eyes landing on the mop of green curls
illuminated by a blue glowing monitor and spread over the keyboard.
He watches through the glass panel as she walks over, clicks the monitor off, and taps his shoulder, making him shoot up from his seat.
“Zuku, you promised you wouldn’t do this anymore.” Pink cheeks lectures tiredly.
“I just lost track of time.” A stuttering cute voice reasons, clearly feeling guilty.
“Clearly” she sighs again “I told you I’d be showing the chef around by now.”
You can see the exact moment he connects the dots, head swiveling around and gorgeous emerald eyes meeting his. Maybe orange wasn’t so amazing after all.
He smirks at the disheveled, red faced boy in front of him. He was going to enjoy this job.
~♠︎♥︎♦︎♣︎~