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“What the fuck are you two eating.”
Katsuki’s voice cuts through the kitchen, rough and way too irritated for someone who only woke up ten minutes ago. He still looks half‑put together—hair sticking out in uneven spikes, shirt rumpled like he dragged it on while stumbling out of bed.
Izuku and Shoto both freeze mid‑bite.
If you can even call it a bite, considering the sad clump of dry cereal barely holding together on the spoon.
Izuku looks up first, cheeks puffed out like a guilty hamster. “Kacchan! Good morning! You, uh… woke up late.”
Katsuki squints at him, then at the bowls in front of them. “Yeah, morning, whatever. But that doesn’t answer my damn question.”
Shoto lifts his spoon—a sad little scoop of flakes that audibly crunch like gravel in his mouth. “It’s cereal.”
“With no fucking milk?” Katsuki snaps, stepping closer like he needs to inspect it. “Are you two deranged?”
Izuku swallows, sheepishly muttering, “We ran out.”
Shoto nods calmly. “Of milk. And bread.”
Izuku adds, “And eggs.”
Shoto continues, “And coffee.”
Izuku sighs. “Okay, everything. We’ve ran out everything.”
Katsuki stares at them, jaw slack. “So you’re eating… dust?”
“It’s not dust,” Izuku protests. “It’s… crunchy.”
“More like fucking bird food, you moron,” Katsuki fires back, not missing a beat. “You’re eating bird food like it’s normal.”
Shoto takes another dry bite, completely unfazed. “It’s not that bad.”
Katsuki swings around to point at him. “Oi—no. You don’t get to talk. You’d eat a frozen brick if someone handed it to you.”
Shoto shrugs, calm as ever. “Hm, if it was offered politely.”
Katsuki mutters under his breath, loud enough for both of them to hear, “Fucking people pleasers, both of you.”
Izuku snorts, trying to hide his laugh behind his hand. “Kacchan, be nice…”
“No. I woke up late,” Katsuki growls, rubbing his face. “I never wake up late. And this is what I walk into? You two eating poverty cereal?”
Izuku brightens suddenly, like a lightbulb flicking on. “Oh! Since you’re awake now, we should go to the store together!”
Katsuki freezes. “Die.”
Izuku clasps his hands, leaning forward with way too much enthusiasm. “Come on! It’ll be fun! A roommate bonding trip!”
Shoto nods, tone flat but somehow encouraging. “It would be good to restock everything at once.”
Katsuki looks between them—Izuku’s hopeful grin, Shoto’s calm stare, the bowls of dry cereal—and he feels the devil, once again, personally targeting him.
He grabs his keys off the counter with a dramatic sigh. “I hate my fucking life.”
Izuku beams like that’s a compliment. “That’s the spirit!”
“That’s not—” Katsuki stops himself. “Whatever. Let’s go before you two start eating the damn furniture.”
Shoto stands, slipping on his jacket. “Should we go get food after?”
Izuku gasps. “Oh my god, yes.”
Katsuki groans into his hands. “Day ruined at 11am.”
But he follows them out the door anyway—because apparently this is his damn life now.
⸝⸝
Katsuki unlocks the car and gets in without saying anything, just a low exhale that says he’s already tired of the day. Shoto takes the passenger seat, quiet and composed, buckling himself in, and Izuku slides into the back, leaning forward between the seats almost immediately.
Katsuki starts the engine. “If either of you complain, I’m crashing this damn car.”
Izuku ignores that completely. “I should’ve written a list before we left.”
“We wouldn’t need a list if you two didn’t let the kitchen die in three fucking days,” Katsuki says, pulling out of the driveway.
Izuku makes a noise. “It didn’t die. It just… ran out of stuff.”
“That’s dying, shithead,” Katsuki mutters.
Shoto speaks up, calm as ever. “Not dead. We have cereal.”
Izuku groans. “Right. We’re not living off cereal.”
“It’s edible,” Shoto replies.
“It’s what peasants eat,” Katsuki grunts.
Izuku laughs under his breath. “Okay, yeah, it was pretty bad.”
Katsuki glances at him in the mirror. “Your cheeks were puffed up like a damn chipmunk, nerd.”
Izuku’s face scrunches. “I was hungry!”
“Then buy food!” Katsuki snaps.
“Kacchan, that’s literally what we’re doing!” Izuku fires back.
Shoto watches the road ahead. “Wow guys, this is our first outing together.”
Izuku immediately smiles, dropping his mocking face aimed at Katsuki in the mirror. “Yeah! Like a roommate thing.”
Katsuki snorts. “It’s a grocery store, not a team-building exercise, Sensei.”
Izuku leans forward again, rolling his eyes. “It can be both.”
“No,” Katsuki says.
“Yes,” Izuku says.
Shoto nods once. “I think it can.”
Katsuki shoots him a look. “Don’t encourage him, Icyhot.”
“I wasn’t,” Shoto raises his eyebrow.
Izuku laughs. “Kinda were.”
Shoto doesn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth twitches—barely noticeable, but enough to make Izuku grin and Katsuki roll his eyes.
Katsuki shifts lanes. “I swear, you two dumbasses are gonna give me an aneurysm.”
Izuku hums. “You like us.”
“Don’t test me, I tolerate you,” Katsuki corrects.
Shoto glances over, drumming his finger on the windowsill. “You woke up late today.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, okay genius, don’t remind me.”
“It’s unusual,” Shoto adds.
Izuku nods. “Yeah, you’re usually up before everyone.”
Katsuki sighs. “My alarm didn’t go off.”
Izuku makes a sympathetic sound. “That sucks.”
“Damn right,” Katsuki says. “And then I walk out and see you two eating cereal like it’s a fucking apocalypse.”
Izuku laughs. “Okay, it wasn’t that dramatic. You’re dragging it.”
“It was pathetic,” Katsuki argues.
Shoto nods. “It was dry.”
Izuku smacks the back of his seat. “Shoto!”
“What? It’s the truth,” Shoto smirks lightly, reaching over his shoulder to swat Izuku’s hand away.
Katsuki shakes his head. “You two suck ass.”
Izuku grins. “We’re fun.”
“You’re too damn loud,” Katsuki retorts.
Shoto adds, “And chaotic.”
Izuku gasps. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I’m on no one’s side,” Shoto replies.
Katsuki smirks. “Look at this guy tryna be different.”
Izuku laughs before leaning back in his seat, sighing. “This is gonna be fine.”
Katsuki doesn’t look away from the road, but he lightly nudges Shoto’s shoulder. “Oi Icyhot, who’s gonna tell him?”
Shoto doesn’t miss a beat. He shifts slightly in his seat, eyes still on the road ahead.
“Not sure why he’s so confident,” he says calmly. “He was eating dry cereal ten minutes ago.”
Izuku smacks the back of Shoto’s seat, grinning despite being flamed. “SHOTO—don’t act like you weren’t sitting right there crunching it with me. If we go down then we go down together, damn it.”
“Oi! Not too much on Icyhot. He knew it was pathetic. Unlike you—chewing that dry shit like it was some kind of kink. Looked like you were enjoying it, ya freak.”
Izuku’s whole body jolts, face tinted red. “KACCHAN!”
Shoto speaks up, interrupting Katsuki’s attempted rebuttal. “…Wow. Looks like we’re here.”
Katsuki scoffs, pulls into the parking lot, the car slowly reversing into a spot. Izuku leans forward between the seats, eyes bright with way too much enthusiasm for a grocery store.
Katsuki kills the engine. “Great. Let’s go make fools outta ourselves.”
Shoto unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll get a cart.”
Izuku hops out after them, already smiling and following Shoto to most likely almost ram a trolley into an innocent person’s car by accident.
⸝⸝
The automatic doors slide open, blasting them with cold air and that faint grocery‑store smell of produce and floor cleaner. Shoto walks in first, hands on the cart handle, pushing it with confidence like he’s been assigned a very serious task.
Katsuki eyes him. “Yeah alright, thanks for getting it,” he says, already reaching for the handle. “But I reckon I’ll take it now.”
Shoto doesn’t let go. “Why?”
“Because you walk too slow, asshat,” Katsuki argues. “We’ll be here all day.”
Shoto’s brows lift a fraction. “I walk at a normal pace, Bakugou.”
“Normal for you,” Katsuki fires back, gripping the handle with one hand. “Just let me do it and we’ll be out of here in 3.”
Shoto tightens his own grip. “You’re acting like a child.”
“You wanna fucking fight?”
Izuku watches them for exactly three seconds before stepping between them, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “No, no. Absolutely not. You two are not fighting over a trolley.”
Katsuki releases his grip, crossing his hands over himself roughly whilst muttering, “He started it.”
Shoto’s glare sharpens. “We’re compromising.”
Izuku plants a hand on each of their chests and pushes them back a step. “It’s stupid. Go to your aisles. I’m taking the trolley.”
Katsuki’s jaw drops. “You? What the fuck, why you?”
“Because I’m the only one here with self‑control,” Izuku retorts, already rolling the cart away.
Katsuki calls after him, voice dripping with petty mockery. “Yeah, real controlled, Deku. Real stable. Nothing says ‘self‑control’ like dry fucking cereal for breakfast.”
Izuku flips him off without turning around.
Shoto watches Izuku go, then sighs softly—the tiniest pout forming. “I wanted the trolley.”
Katsuki snorts. “Cry about it, ya damn baby.”
Shoto rolls his eyes, slow and deliberate.
Katsuki clicks his tongue. “Don’t start with me.”
Shoto gestures toward the aisles. “He said to split up.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s get this over with.”
⸝⸝
Izuku is already halfway down the produce section, pushing the cart like he owns the place, and muttering to himself about vegetables and carrots.
Behind him, Katsuki watches for a moment, then turns to Shoto with a look that is way too serious for a damn grocery store.
Leaning in slightly, he drops his voice low like he’s proposing a crime. “...We’re getting another trolley.”
Shoto meets his eyes, expression steadying into quiet, petty determination.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
They peel off toward the entrance again; Katsuki grabs a cart whilst Shoto steadies it. They exchange a single, conspiratorial glance.
Katsuki smirks. “We’re getting everything before he does.”
Shoto adjusts his grip, raising an eyebrow. “He’ll be pretty upset.”
“That’s the damn point.”
Shoto considers that, then nods. “Alright.”
They push off together, turning the corner with way too much resolve for the middle of the day. Katsuki heads straight for the grains section, grabbing whatever items he sees—oats, pasta, flour—tossing each into the trolley without hesitation.
Shoto follows behind him, scanning shelves with laser focus. “Need rice.”
“'Ight, go grab it.” Katsuki shoots back.
Shoto does—two bags, one in each hand, dropping them into the cart.
Katsuki grins. “Good. He’s gonna lose his shit.”
They move fast, causing a small commotion as shoppers stare and whisper, most definitely recognising them.
Meanwhile, Izuku is still in the produce aisle, comparing tomatoes by their weight and colour. He turns around just in time to see Katsuki and Shoto speed past him with a full trolley.
Izuku’s jaw drops. “HEY—what the hell?!”
Katsuki doesn’t slow down. “Move it, Izuku! We’re winning!”
Shoto gives Izuku a polite nod as they pass, reaching into his trolley to take out some items. “We’ve got those.”
Izuku sputters. “You—you traitor! You both are traitors!”
Katsuki calls back over his shoulder, voice smug as hell. “Shouldn’t have taken the trolley, nerd!”
Izuku pushes his cart after them, scandalized. “You can’t just— you can’t team up against me!”
Shoto glances back, expression calm but undeniably smug. “You told us to go to our aisles.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Katsuki laughs, loud and unrestrained. “Too late! We’re clearing the list!”
Izuku groans dramatically, speeding up. “You guys are so petty.”
Shoto shrugs. “You started it.”
Izuku nearly chokes. “How?!”
Katsuki jabs a finger towards at him. “You took the trolley.”
Izuku throws his hands up, raising his voice. “BECAUSE YOU TWO WERE FIGHTING OVER IT!”
Shoto shrugs once more. “And now we’re not.”
Katsuki smirks. “Teamwork, baby.”
Izuku looks between them—Katsuki’s feral grin, Shoto’s determination, their trolley already half full—and realizes he’s lost control of the situation entirely.
He groans into his hands. “I hate you both.”
Katsuki pats Shoto’s shoulder. “Come on, Icyhot. Let’s finish the list before he has a meltdown and gets us good citizens kicked out.”
Shoto nods. “We should get milk.”
⸝⸝
Izuku wheels his trolley up to the register first, proud of himself for at least getting something done. He starts unloading items onto the conveyor belt, humming under his breath.
Katsuki and Shoto pull up beside him with their own trolley—overflowing with items that are definitely not on the list.
Katsuki eyes Izuku’s groceries like they personally offended him. “…This looks ass.”
Izuku doesn’t look up. “Hi, Kacchan.”
“No, seriously,” Katsuki continues, picking up one of Izuku’s items and turning it over like it’s contaminated. “Our brand’s way better. What is this off‑brand crap?”
Izuku snatches it back. “It’s literally the same thing.”
Shoto reaches over and plucks another item from Izuku’s pile—judging every item quietly. “This pasta is… questionable.”
Izuku scoffs. “Shoto, you don’t even eat pasta, shush.”
“I still know this is bad,” Shoto replies, placing it back with a slight smug.
Katsuki yanks a box of cereal from Izuku’s trolley and holds it up like evidence.
“Kitty Flakes?” he recites off the box, disgust dripping off every syllable.
Izuku snatches it back. “Hey! It’s good!”
Katsuki sneers. “More like shitty flakes, amiright? Try again, nerd.”
Shoto lets out the smallest breath of a laugh—barely a sound, just a soft exhale through his nose.
Izuku rolls his eyes, moving back to scan more items. “Oh my god, you two are insufferable.”
Shoto tilts his head mockingly. “He’s right, though.”
Izuku flicks a hand at them dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, congrats on your superior grains. You want a medal?”
Katsuki leans on his trolley, voice dripping with petty satisfaction. “Wouldn’t mind one actually.”
Shoto adds, “Midoriya can make it out of his bad pasta.”
Izuku gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “You’re both banned from dinner.”
Katsuki snorts. “You can’t even cook, Deku.”
Izuku fires back instantly. “And you can’t shut up.”
Shoto hums thoughtfully. “He’s right.”
Katsuki turns to him. “The hell? Whose side are you on?”
Shoto gestures between them. “Whichever is winning.”
“WE are winning, shithead.” Katsuki shoves Shoto slightly.
Izuku laughs under his breath, shaking his head as he continues unloading his groceries. “You two are so stupid.”
Katsuki bumps his shoulder lightly as he passes over to help Izuku. “Making it fun, moron. Move over, I’ll finish this quicker.”
Izuku doesn’t deny either claims—just rolls his eyes again, moving to Shoto’s side and smiling despite himself.
⸝⸝
They step out of the automatic doors with their bags in hand, the late afternoon air hitting them lightly. Katsuki’s carrying half the load because he refused to ‘look weak’, Shoto’s holding his normally, and Izuku’s juggling his like he’s in a circus.
For a moment, it’s actually peaceful.
Then, Izuku breaks it. “So… what’s for dinner tonight?”
Katsuki shrugs. “Depends on what I can fix up with your shitty brands.”
Shoto looks ahead, completely straight‑faced. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling dry rice.”
Katsuki barks out a laugh so sudden it startles a passing stranger. “Holy shit—that’s good, Icyhot. That’s real good.” He bumps Shoto’s shoulder roughly and Shoto just rolls his eyes, shrugging him off.
Izuku’s head snaps toward Shoto instantly, staring at Shoto like he’s just incinerated the store behind them.
“Alright. Jokes over, genuinely dragging it.”