Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku is the newest hire at Plus Ultra Inc., and since Ochako is in the same department, she’s kinda taken him under her wing—introductions, training, lunch together, all that. Ochako kinda always wants to take care of the newbies, so she doesn’t mind at all.
Midoriya (or Deku, as he insisted early on) is crazy smart, a diligent coworker, and really sweet to boot. It’s only his second week at the company, and he brought in these amazing caramel blondies that Ochako seriously is going to dream about for the rest of forever.
“Deku, you have to give me the recipe, oh my gosh,” she mumbles around her third (... okay, fourth) square.
“Ah, it’s Kacchan’s special recipe—I hardly did it justice! I’ll have to make sure he’s okay with me spilling the secret,” Deku says, grinning shyly. Ochako perks up, and it must be obvious that she’s curious, because Deku runs a sheepish hand through the back of his curls. “My partner, that is. Uh… he’s still overseas for work for a while—I made these because they remind me of him, honestly,” Deku admits, looking self-conscious.
Ochako’s heart melts—goodness, that’s adorable. And relatable. And also a good opportunity.
“My girlfriend is a chef, and I always miss her cooking so much when she’s out of town,” Ochako commiserates. “She’d be offended if she knew, but sometimes I miss the food as much as I miss her!”
Deku flushes and starts laughing guiltily, nodding his fluffy head in agreement, and Ochako hides a smile in her next bite of blondie. She’s honored that Deku trusted her enough to let the pronouns slip, knowing herself just how fraught that decision can be. Her last workplace was a homophobic nightmare, but Plus Ultra has been great. Deku should know he’s supported, especially in those subtle, social ways that really make you feel included.
Plus, Ochako is willing to talk about Himiko dreamily and at length to anyone who’ll listen, so they’ll probably get along even more swimmingly. Deku got this sweet shimmer in his eyes when he said “Kacchan”—nicknames? Unbearably cute. Tsuyu and Shouto always make (playful) fun of her for being so whipped—maybe Deku can be her partner-fawning buddy.
-
As it turns out, that’s kind of what happens. Deku makes friends fast at the office, a bit shy but naturally friendly and helpful. He and Ochako still spend quite a bit of one on one time together as he acclimates, and as a result, Ochako learns quite a bit about her new coworker and his partner.
Deku is originally from Mustafu, but he went to America for university. He only moved back a few months ago, settling down here in Tokyo. He admits to Ochako that he missed Japan and his family, and Ochako nods understandingly—she and Himiko love to travel, but home will always be here for her.
Apparently, “Kacchan” also grew up in the same small town, and they’ve known each other from childhood, though they had a falling out in their preteen years. Deku smiles as he talks about reconnecting when Kacchan came to the U.S. for work, and how they eventually started seeing one another. Ochako can’t help but smile, too—Deku’s happiness is infectious in general, and he clearly loves this Kacchan guy.
“So he’s still in the States, then?” Ochako asks, popping the last of her bento lids closed.
“Yeah—he needs to tie up loose ends at his job over there,” Deku says, a small pout on his face. He fiddles with the wrapper from his combini lunch, looking gloomy at the thought. “We video call whenever we can, but it’s not the same. The new condo feels way too big with just me and the cat,” Deku says, shaking his head with an expression that breaks Ochako’s heart a teensy bit. That just won’t do.
“Would you want to come over for dinner this weekend?” Ochako blurts out. “Himiko and I don’t have anything going on—we’d love to have you, if you want.”
Deku agrees readily and beams at her so brightly that Ochako considers whipping out her sunglasses. The right choice, then.
-
5:30pm that Saturday finds Ochako frantically tidying, lecturing Himiko about being normal and not showing off her extensive chef’s knives collection, nor their shared obsession with grisly true crime docs. Himiko rolls her eyes from where she’s chopping up veggies for their meal, but she gives Ochako a brief, reassuring peck on the cheek when she bustles by to wipe down the table.
“Sure, whatever—but if you invite him over again he’ll have to face how weird we are,” Himiko grins. Ochako huffs and blushes, but admits that yeah, he will.
As it turns out, they have nothing to worry about. Deku shows up in a dorky All Might sweatshirt with a bottle of red wine, which they immediately uncork. By the time Himiko plates up dinner, Deku had already come over to fawn over her folded steel blade kit, asking questions and testing a few on the veggie scraps. Apparently Kacchan is a pretty serious home cook—go figure. Himiko will never let Ochako hear the end of this, ugh.
Deku gushes over the food, and another bottle of wine is pulled from the pantry, and Ochako is pleased to see everything going well. Deku looks happy and far less lonely, and Ochako’s heart swells to see him comfortable outside of work—he really is such a sweetheart. Himiko looks amused when Deku seems to always have a way to bring up his Kacchan—Ochako told her as much, but the wine really brought out the simping in full force. Ochako takes a sip from her glass, feeling mighty satisfied indeed.
-
“Wait, but why were there blood stains on that wall if her husband said in the 911 call that she fell down the second flight of stairs?!” Deku gasps, slurring his words a little.
“Exactly!” Ochako shouts at the same time Himiko nods her head so hard her messy buns come even more undone.
“Definitely lying,” Himiko says.
Deku shakes his head, reaching for his nearly-empty glass. Himiko tops him off wordlessly. Ochako giggles at their bonding. Deku hiccups right as his phone dings with a text, and he smiles all sweet and wobbly at whatever it is.
“Ah, I sent Kacchan a picture of dinner and he says he wants your number, Ochako. Do you mind…?” Deku asks.
Ochako blinks in surprise, but agrees. Huh. She’s obviously super curious—she can’t help but wonder what sort of person Deku has for a partner. She knows a good deal about “Kacchan,” but it’s more vague life details than anything. Is he kind and warm, like Deku? What does he do for a living? What does he look like? So many questions.
The crime documentary gets to another juicy part—the autopsy evidence is so incriminating—and Ochako mostly forgets her curiosity in favor of more armchair detective work and the pleasant lassitude that three glasses of wine brings. By the time Deku says his thank-yous and good nights, calling a car home on tipsy feet, Ochako is just ready to cuddle up with Himiko and sleep.
That’s, um, not exactly what they do—c’mon, alcohol makes her horny, and Himiko is so good with her mouth… but needless to say, Ochako sleeps well that night.
In the morning, she’s greeted with a mild hangover and two messages from an unknown number:
>>Oi. Thanks for keeping my nerd company. And thank your partner, too—the stuff Deku has been cooking for himself looks fucking hazardous.
>>Anyway. You’ve earned it. Tell no one.
After that is a mysterious link. Ochako opens it and sputters out a confused, delighted laugh—it’s the blondie recipe.
-
Ochako (and sometimes Himiko, or Tsuyu, or Shouto and Tenya and Momo) spending time with Deku outside the office becomes a somewhat regular thing after that. Especially after Deku somewhat shyly admits at lunch one day that he’s always had a hard time making friends, particularly at work. The rest of them share a determined look—he’s adopted, officially.
Weirdly, Ochako has also started texting with “Kacchan,” albeit sporadically—although he quickly set her straight that unless it’s Deku, his name is Bakugou Katsuki.
He’s still sort of a puzzle to her, usually only sending through a message when he has some Deku-related instruction or request. The texts are always brusque in tone—sometimes borderline rude—but the words themselves are ridiculously doting. It’s cute, and a wild contrast.
>>Can you give Deku some damn lozenges at work — his throat is sore but he keeps insisting he’s not sick, the little shit.
Ochako subtly slides a bag of lemon and herb cough drops onto Deku’s desk the next day, smirking when he tries to wave off her concern and is caught in the lie, immediately coughing and rasping.
<<Aye aye cap’n! Mission accomplished.
>>Good. If his germy ass comes in the office tomorrow, kick him out and tell him to stay the fuck home.
Ochako smiles and rolls her eyes. Bakugou is odd, but oddly… charming? He definitely cares deeply about Deku, even if he shows it in funny ways. Then again, Himiko’s love language are basically sadistically-sweet gestures, very physical touch, and quite a bit of downright villainous teasing at Ochako’s expense.
… Okay, maybe Ochako gets the appeal. Good on Deku.
-
Things continue on until one Friday a couple months after Deku’s start date, when he walks in with a notable spring in his step and a dreamy, distracted smile plastered on his face.
“Did Christmas come early or something?” Tsuyu finally asks him, tilting her head. Deku doesn’t even seem embarrassed, just stares at his hands with a faint blush.
“Ah well—Kacchan comes home tomorrow,” he says, sighing happily.
Even Shouto’s eyes widen at that. Momo gasps and clasps her hands together, delighted.
“That’s so exciting! Do you two have big plans?” she asks.
“Er, probably not! I’m sure he’ll be jet lagged and tired at first. Um, I might try to take Monday and Tuesday off—if Aizawa-san allows it!—so maybe we’ll do something fun then, when he’s a bit more adjusted…” Deku rambles.
“I’m sure he will. You haven’t even taken a day off yet, you lunatic.” Ochako teases.
“I agree! Just be sure to receive formal permission and log your time off in the tracking system,” Tenya notes, adjusting his glasses.
Deku flusters and rushes to agree, and Ochako snorts—typical Tenya, ever-diligent. Soon enough Deku goes back to looking adorably preoccupied and excited, and it’s funny to see him uncharacteristically rush out the door at 5pm on the dot.
“I wonder what Deku and Backugou do together. Judo? Macrame?” Ochako idly says to Himiko that night as they’re cuddled in bed. “It’s hard to think what they have in common.”
Himiko laughs and grins wickedly down at her, stroking Ochako’s hair as her golden eyes glint with humor.
“You mean this weekend? Babe, it’s cute that you think they’ll be doing anything except fucking like bunnies,” Himiko giggles.
Ochako gapes at her like a scandalized fish, and Himiko just raises her eyebrows. Her hand moves slowly to run barely-there touches along Ochako’s side, sneaking up underneath Ochako’s sleep shirt, then dangerously close to her chest. Uhh, what were they talking about, again?
“Don’t you remember when I got back from that fancy three-week catering gig in Hong Kong?” Himiko prompts.
Oh. OH. Ochako huffs a laugh and stretches her neck as Himiko finally leans over to tease and nip at her throat.
“Okay, yeah— ah —I don’t think we left bed for a day,” she replies breathily. Ochako feels Himiko smile into the skin of her neck, all sharp canines and soft lips—hnn.
Okay, enough speculating about her coworker. Ochako has a beautiful blonde kissing her, teasing at the waistband of her pink pajama shorts and palming greedy hands over her ass. There are way more important things to put her mind to.
-
On Wednesday, Ochako busts out laughing when Deku arrives visibly limping, sitting gingerly at his desk chair and wearing his shirt buttoned far higher than usual. Not like it helps much—she can still see the hickies, bruised dark and plentiful all the way up to the underside of his jaw.
Deku shoots her a miserable, embarrassed glance, but he’s nearly glowing, practically radiating contentment from what was likely some very nice reunion sex. She taps out a snarky message right away:
<<Welcome home, Bakugou! I see you /thoroughly/ enjoyed your first few days back.
A moment later, she receives a middle finger emoji back. Typical.
Ochako puts her phone away after that, wrapped up in spreadsheets and phone calls until much later in the day. She checks it again that afternoon to see another message from Bakugou. This one is much more surprising, but in a good way.
>>Dinner at ours on the 18th. Deku will give you the time and address. You don’t gotta bring shit, and don’t be fuckin’ late.
-
“You’re late.”
Ochako blinks rapidly, hand still raised to knock at the front door. She stares at the stretch of a dark shirt at her eye level, stretched taut against someone’s muscled chest. She has to look up (and up) to meet scorching red, narrowed eyes set in a scowling face.
“Sorryyyy, that was my bad! We had to make a stop last minute,” Himiko says airily, pushing the champagne they brought into the aforementioned chest. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Bakugou—because that’s precisely who this tall, built blonde must be—huffs and stabilizes the bottle, stepping back to let Himiko and Ochako inside. He bosses them out of their jackets and forcefully hangs them up before padding down the hall, presumably towards the condo’s kitchen.
Ochako shamelessly peeks around to see anything she can from, still stepping out of her shoes in the entranceway. She spies what’s probably the master bedroom first—door shut—and next to it a small home office. It’s decorated in subtle grays and blacks with what looks like a drum kit in the corner, plus shelves packed with colorful graphic novels and dozens of well-worn notebooks.
The smells coming from the kitchen are amazing , savory and spicy-sweet, which makes Himiko perk up in interest. They both head in to join their hosts, and Ochako immediately tries to get a better look at Bakugou.
And damn—look she does. Ochako might be gay, but she has eyes. The guy is hot. When he turns off the low burner on the stove and reaches up into a cupboard for plates, his defined back muscles bunch appealingly and his ridiculous arms bulge at the sleeves of his shirt. Deku is chattering away next to him in his own little world, handing over a pair of tongs when Bakugou reaches an expectant hand out. Deku isn’t really all that small, but he looks downright teeny next to his big Kacchan, who just grunts in acknowledgment every so often at Deku’s rambling. He plates up four servings and deftly bats Deku’s hand away when he tries to grab one of the hot pans without a potholder on.
“Dumbass,” Bakugou scolds, flicking Deku gently on the forehead. Deku faux-pouts and sticks his tongue out, but brightens when he notices Ochako and Himiko have made it to the kitchen.
“Ah, welcome! I’m glad you’re here!” he says, starry-eyed and beaming.
“Well, thanks for having us! I love the place,” Ochako says earnestly. The kitchen is cute, with white curtains on the little window above the sink and matching mugs on the drying rack. The living room beyond it looks cozy, a plump orange tabby cat dozing lazily on the back of a soft green couch. The walls are covered: smiling photos of Bakugou and Deku and family and friends, postcards sent from all over the world, framed art prints and posters.
“Ah, thank you,” Deku says, a little bashful as he picks up two of the plates to ferry over to their kitchen table. Bakugou takes the other two, carefully setting them down. “It was mostly Kacchan decorating from across the ocean, honestly.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, but his mouth hitches into a genuine little smile—the first they’ve seen. Ochako and Himiko’s eyebrows both shoot up as they share a quick glance.
“As if I was gonna let you tape 800 ugly All Might posters on the wall. And that brown armchair was fucking gross , I stand by making you finally get rid of it,” he replies, crossing his arms and sitting with a self-satisifed grin.
“I know… it was so comfy, though,” Deku sighs. Himiko snickers a little as the rest of them take the cue to sit. Bakugou pops the champagne, and before they dig in they toast to his arrival (even though it was a couple weeks ago at this point—shh, any excuse to celebrate, right?)
Ochako groans happily at the first bite into their meal, and Himiko makes a pleased, appraising noise (chef-speak for ‘damn, that’s good’). Deku smiles knowingly, already wolfing his food down. Bakugou scoffs, but he seems pleased at the round of affirmation.
It turns out to be a lovely, low-key evening. They eat and drink and migrate to the living room at some point, background TV on idly as they all chat. Bakugou proves himself as surly and somewhat reserved as Ochako would’ve expected, but there’s another side that becomes just as plainly visible.
Simply put—well, he looks at Deku like the guy is the sun and stars. It’s a lot of sweet glances and lingering looks, idle smiles barely gracing his otherwise-glowering face whenever Deku laughs or goes on an excited tangent. As the night wears on and they get more comfortable, Ochako notices him casually touching Deku, too—subtle brushes of his arm, a soft hand on the small of Deku’s back when they pass each other in the kitchen. He’ll mutter something in Deku’s ear as he gets up for a glass of water, and Deku will smile or laugh at whatever it is he said.
In short, Bakugou makes it clear that he’s disgustingly gone on Deku, and Deku gives the affection right back. It’s very gooey and cute. Ochako wonders if this is what she and Himiko look like to the outside world, and she thinks it probably comes pretty close. Listen, lovesickness is real, y’know? She can’t help it.
Deku is mid-sentence when his jaw cracks in a huge yawn, and Bakugou barks out a mean laugh and elbows him. “Tired, idiot?” he snorts.
Ochako accidentally echoes the yawn in sympathy, and Himiko pats her thigh gently.
“Aww, we should head home anyway—c’mon, babe,” she says. Ochako doesn’t put up any fight, surprisingly sleepy herself, and Bakugou and Deku show them out and wish them well. Ochako glances back from the driveway to wave goodbye, and she catches Deku waving back as Bakugou plants a kiss on the top of his head. It makes her smile as they pull out of the driveway and into the night.
“That was really fun,” Ochako says, drowsy and pleasantly buzzed as she glances over at Himiko from the passenger seat. Himiko nods, a bit amused—she stopped drinking way before Ochako, sobering up for the drive home. “I saw you and Bakugou chatting while Deku showed me the guest room—did you find out anything wild? Blood money? Vigilantism? International espionage?” Ochako makes herself giggle at her own outlandish suggestions, drumming her fingers on the center console.
Toga just laughs, and for a moment she doesn’t answer, waiting until they’re paused at a red light. She turns in her seat a bit, looking at Ochako intently with those pretty, pretty gold eyes. Ochako stares back at her, a bit breathless.
“We were just agreeing that we both have good taste,” Himiko says, pressing sharp teeth into her lip to suppress a laugh. Ochako makes a questioning noise.
“Like, in the culinary sense? The dinner he made was really good, it’s true,” she muses. Himiko shakes her head, eyes gleaming.
“Nah—it’s ‘cause we both love adorable doe-eyed types with perfect asses,” she croons, laughing wickedly as she leans over to steal a kiss from Ochako’s shocked-open mouth. It’s a sly, warm meeting of breath and wet, searching tongue, and Ochako is helpless to the quick, syrupy heat of it. The sedan behind them honks in annoyance as the light shifts to green. Himiko pulls away with a sticky noise, huffs a giggling laugh, and takes her foot off the brake.
“You—! Agh, you’re both awful,” Ochako huffs, cheeks blazing red. She has to admit that it’s a little funny, though. She’s always known Himiko is a tease and a pervert—god help Ochako for loving it—but it’s hilarious that Bakugou apparently is, too.
-
Unbeknownst to the couple in the car, Bakugou Katsuki had just given the same explanation to one Midoriya Izuku. Izuku groans and covers his eyes, but he’s stifling laughter, too.
“Kacchan! I can’t believe you!” He wheezes. “... But, ah, that does sound like something Himiko would say,” he finishes, still giggling a bit.
Kacchan smirks and leans in to kiss Izuku’s smiling mouth.
“Don’t worry, baby—you and Cheeks have good taste, too,” Katsuki whispers hotly. Izuku just snorts loudly, which makes Kacchan pick him up like a sack of potatoes and smack his ass as they head to the bedroom.
“Oi, don’t snort at me! I could spank you raw for that, you know.”
“Oooh, promise?”
-
Izuku greets Ochako normally at work, but he only lasts until 10am before blurting out his burning question.
“Ochako… how would you describe our, um. Type? In partner, that is,” he asks.
And without missing a beat, Ochako replies—
“Hot, mean, blonde.”
The two lock surprised eyes, and soon everyone at the neighboring desks is glaring at them for their obnoxious peals of laughter. Izuku quiets and smiles into his coffee, feeling lucky to have been paired up with Ochako when he started working here.
… And for what it’s worth, they really do both have great asses.