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Ochaco finds herself damp, freezing, and unmistakably (and regrettably) glued to Bakugo. ‘How?’ Someone may hypothetically ask—
That’s… a little hard to answer, she soon finds out. Well, it’s hard because Bakugo is elbowing her in the stomach, trying to separate them at the waist and she can’t really breathe from where she’s being pinned against the wall.
So Izuku just stands in the supply closet doorway, slack-jawed. “I’m—I’m so sorry!” He finally moves and Ochaco sort of wants to die. His face flashes red and he ducks out of the room quickly.
“W-ait!” She wheezes as Bakugo’s wrist connects roughly with the fleshy part of her stomach. “Will you stop it?” She snaps to Bakugo instead, and surprisingly, he does.
It occurs to both of them, it seems, of how close they are. The muffled sounds of the Christmas party down the hall do nothing to alleviate the atmosphere and Ochaco wants to shy away desperately.
’Merry Christmas!’ Some higher being seems to taunt. ‘Your crush just saw you and his rival feeling each other up in the closet at the annual Christmas party where you initially planned to confess!’
She blames Mineta for what is possibly the worst Christmas ever.
It starts like this. Ochaco is minding her own business, being a ray of sunshine, adorable, the usual. It is a week until Christmas, only six days until the big party 1-A has been planning for a month.
She’s gonna confess. She doesn’t see why she shouldn’t. Izuku is cute, Ochaco is cute, and two plus two is four. Everything adds up.
She’s liked Izuku for months. He has a nice smile and a charming splatter of freckles adorning his cheeks that she could almost count. She also quite likes the way he takes her seriously, no matter how she acts. Like she can be just as good of a hero as him.
He’s like her but better, she supposes. Stronger, a better leader, a better quirk, even more heroic than her. So he’s perfect. Everyone else seems to think so too.
She admires him and always has, ever since the day of the entrance exam. So it’s only natural that she’s developed a crush on him. (Besides she’s sure that pretty much everyone else in class has too.)
It’s always a plus that Izuku is adorably shy. It’s almost fun to get a rise out of him, a pink dusting his cheeks or a stutter weaving into his sentences.
So it’s decided, Ochaco will confess on Christmas eve and will receive her very first kiss under the mistletoe.
That changes quickly though. On the tuesday of that week, Bakugo confesses to her.
Without even meaning to.
Christ, why does he make things so difficult? He had pretty much been confessing to Izuku but he had definitely led the class to believing it was for her. And he didn’t think he was confessing to either of them.
She sits next to him in class, so she’s had these strange pseudo-conversations with him before. She just doesn’t know why the sight of ‘Ochaco Midoriya’ scribbled in bubble letters on the first page of her notes makes him so angry.
Well, scratch that, he’s pretty much always angry. So… angrier. “Deku?” He barks, loud enough to draw attention to them. She slams her notebook shut quickly, hiding the writing from prying eyes.
“Uh…” She needs to diffuse this quickly, before Bakugo can, quite literally, get fired up. The stares of everyone else leaves her dumbfounded though and nothing else escapes her mouth.
“I’m so much better than Deku.” He scoffs, almost. “I don’t know how anyone could see anything in him. ”
Ochaco is nearly in disbelief. If she didn’t know any better (which she doesn’t) she would say that Bakugo sounded… jealous. And not of Izuku. She nearly chokes out a plea for him to stop talking but he continues anyway.
“Besides I’ll show you how much better than him I am! You’ll both see!” He points an accusatory finger in Izuku’s direction, who Ochaco is way too scared to peek at.
“Mark my words round-face!” His finger swivels towards Ochaco, sparks igniting on his palm. “I won’t lose!”
This is the story of how Katsuki Bakugo single-handedly ruined her love life.
“It’s cute.” Tsuyu says later, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and Ochaco gawks.
“Excuse me?”
“He competing with Midoriya for you, ribbit.” Sometimes the whole ‘blank frog’ stare that Tsuyu has throws Ochaco off from their conversations. This is not one of those times.
“Why would he be competing fo— oh, oh no.” It occurs then, that the entire class may have misunderstood Bakugo’s admittedly passionate speech.
Tsuyu stares ahead, unreadable as usual. She seems to not intend to press the subject but she’s always been a woman of few words. Instead, Mina comes up on her right and swings an arm around her shoulders.
“Good for you Ochaco! Nabbing not one, but two of the most eligible hero bachelors.” No one seems to realize that they have placed her at the wrong corner of the love triangle.
This would be a good time to use her quirk to propel herself into space. As much as she tried to ignore Bakugo before, it’s going to be nearly impossible now.
The only memories she has associated with that boy is the heat of fire scorching her skin and the taste of the defeat slick in her mouth. She doesn’t say this to Mina and Tsuyu though, electing to just laugh nervously.
She’s not dumb. She can see Mina’s smirk out of the corner of her eye and feel they way the girl nudges her teasingly. She can also feel the steady glare of who she’s sure is Bakugo, grinding into her back.
He’s not gonna win, she decides. Not again, Ochaco isn’t a sore loser but she’d rather die than lose to someone as crude as Bakugo again. So she sets her jaw and doesn’t dare look back.
Ochaco doesn’t realize until later, too much later, is that catching Bakugo’s attention is bad. What’s worse though, is challenging Bakugo.
In hindsight, her decision to goad him was not well thought out by any means.
“Sparring today.” Mr. Aizawa claps his hands together once without an ounce of enthusiasm.
She immediately makes a beeline for Izuku, only to find her fate sealed. He stands with Todoroki and he’s… giggling.
Ochaco already has a hard enough time imagining that Todoroki has said anything funny, but she’s especially incredulous when Izuku touches his shoulder and his hand isn’t immediately freeze dried.
She’s too busy watching the odd exchange that she doesn’t see the rest of her classmates wander off with their partners. And if everyone has already paired up, then that means that there is only one person left. The one that no one in their right mind would volunteer to be their partner.
She gulps and turns to face Bakugo, who’s flexing his knuckles once. He gives her one, brief, intimidating glance and she’s suddenly glad this is a quirkless sparring exercise.
He squats with both of his legs spread, hands on his knees and his torso twisted into a stretch. The muscles under his sleeveless shirt stretch across his shoulders smoothly. Why he’s wearing something sleeveless in the cold of December weather is beyond her. But she’s not staring. (She’s definitely staring.)
She would have kept staring, kept that film of aesthetic attractiveness over him while she forgets about his rather scary demeanor, but he jerks his chin up. The command is unspoken but she rolls her eyes anyway and and roots her sneakers into dirt under them. He can ask.
“Get over here round-face.” He pulls his lips into a sneer and Ochaco, despite what her self preservation instincts are telling her, raises a brow.
“Didn’t your parents teach you manners?” She shoots back and immediately regrets it. His eyes flame at the insinuation and he’s in her face faster than she can blink.
His breath is warm against her face in the chilly weather and it would be pleasant if it wasn’t uninvited. She almost thinks he’s going to go into a rage, like he does with Izuku. He does something stranger.
He hesitates for a split second, some classmates taking notice of his bizarre behavior. His posture loses it’s tenseness, muscles uncoiling as he relaxes over Ochaco.
“Want to spar?” He says it like a petulant child. As if he’s being made to by his mother. She suspects the weird looks targeted at him may have had something to do with it.
She bites back a grin. It feels like a tiny victory just for her. “Yes.” She smiles up at him and she swears that he almost looks embarrassed.
She regrets this later of course, as she counts the bruises peppered across her arms from her constant defense.
They ache in a satisfying way though, like she’d grown somehow. It pleases her that at least one guy other than Izuku takes her seriously as an opponent. Even if it is Bakugo.
“He’s not all that bad.” Izuku says, tapping his pencil against the wooden desk.
She sits on his bed adjacent from the desk and nearly chokes on the string cheese Ms. Midoriya had given her. “Are you sure?”
Izuku bites his lip and it looks like he’s holding back a smile. Of course he would see the good in even Bakugo. “I know he’s… abrasive. But he’s a hero at his heart.”
That’s a little generous even by Deku standards but if there is one thing that Ochaco knows, it’s that Izuku would never intentionally lie to her.
So she doesn’t say anything else on the matter and even though Izuku is breezing through his physics homework, she sort of just wants to sulk about how he didn’t take her side.
Although, it’s nearly impossible to sulk when you have at least twenty All Might posters giving you a thumbs up.
She really wishes it would snow instead of rain icy bullets down on her while she nearly cries under an awning.
She knew she shouldn’t have went to the arcade with Mina, she really couldn’t afford to waste anything this week, no even some quarters. Some quarters that probably would’ve have let her get a ride home.
She would just walk home like she usually does but the rain is especially frigid and icy when she steps from under the convenience store awning.
She’s busy shivering when the bell of the store dings and someone walks out, holding a cardboard cup.
“Round face?” She flinches against her better judgement. “Are you waitin’ on someone?” He sounds suspicious.
Her teeth chatter a little and the action isn’t missed by Bakugo. Anyone who looks can tell that she’s been there for a while, her padded pink coat limp with melted ice and her hair damp.
“No.” She finally answers, he’d know if he was lying anyway. He surveys the darkened sky above them and his brightly colored eyes dart back to her with a raised brow.
She really doesn’t want to tell him, even though it’s not much of a secret. Izuku’s words ring in her ears. He’s not that bad.
“I can’t afford the ride back.” She manages to squeak out fast enough so that she doesn’t immediately regret it.
He looks nonplussed, like he thought she was gonna tell him some huge secret.
“That all?” He grumbles, shoving one free hand into his pocket.
He doesn’t make fun of her. Tease her like she would expect of an immature schoolboy. Instead his hand retreats from his pocket and he motions for her to extend her hand.
A couple of crumpled bills fall into her hand along with a wadded up gum wrapper. She blinks.
“See you around Uraraka.” He chugs the rest of whatever warm drink is in his cup and tosses it in the bin next to her.
She doesn’t notice the way he gives a half hearted wave as he leaves, she’s too busy staring at the bills in her hand.
He didn’t call her round-face.
There is only four days until the party and Ochaco thinks that she’s losing her mind.
Because one, Izuku keeps looking at her like he knows something and two, Bakugo hasn’t harassed her at all today. Both of which disconcert her greatly.
After the third knowing smirk from Izuku she snaps.
“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Bakugo stops tapping his pencil, looking a little weirded out that she’s speaking directly to him.
“Don’t ask me.” Bakugo replies.
“Whatever Deku does, I don’t care about.”
“Yeah but,” She trails off, nervously drumming her fingers on her pencil.
“What if he knows… something?” She’s purposely vague and she feels Bakugo bristle beside her. She prepares for his annoyed growl.
“Christ, calm down Uraraka.” He grinds out instead and she feels long fingers wrap around her wrist. Her fingers stop moving and she finally notices the pencil floating above her. “You five or something? Control your quirk.”
She flushes and the skin on wrist tingles as he withdraws his hand. “Yeah. Sorry.” It’s sort of obvious to anyone that the remark sort of stung.
“Listen.” Bakugo finally speaks again. “I say this as someone who’s known Deku for a long, miserable, time. He’s probably just planning something stupid.”
It’s a terrible attempt at comfort but Ochaco finds herself smiling just a bit.
She wonders if Izuku had done something like this to him, she can only imagine a young Bakugo’s disgust at something like a surprise party.
“What’s your problem?” He grouches, glaring at the tiny grin twitching on her mouth. She’s never thought of Bakugo as cute, something so far off from his natural demeanor but that’s what this is.
Cute.
“Nothing.” She gives him a cheerful flash of of her teeth and she thinks he’s blushing just slightly.
Bakugo is cute, she decides.
Oh god she’s losing it.
Izuku laughs at her during lunch. “I’m not planning anything.” He comforts her before digging a fork into his own lunch. “I just think that you and Bakugo are funny.”
She squints at him, unable to decipher exactly what he means.
“I agree, it’s quite obvious you like Bakugo.” Ochaco wonders when she gave Todoroki the permission to speak.
She sputters, her face a shade of red that confirms, yes, she is that easy to read.
“No I don’t.” She stabs a piece of chicken on her plate. “I just said that he wasn’t that bad.”
Izuku seems amused. “And only people who have crushes on Bakugo deem him ‘not that bad.’ Otherwise he’s insufferable unless you kiss the ground he walks on.”
“But you—” Oh.
Izuku snorts slightly and she doesn’t feel the usual rush of warmth that accompanies it. “When I was five, don’t look like you’re gonna burst a blood vessel.”
Todoroki has driven himself to a tense silence and Izuku nudges him. Ochaco wonders if there is something bigger than a love triangle exists. A love pentagon or something.
“Right…” She trails off, utterly bewildered by exchange between them. “I’m just gonna go.”
Izuku nods once but gives her a knowing gaze before looking away. “Just give him a chance. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Well that’s discouraging. She deflates a little, it’s sorta depressing to have your crush tell you to pursue another guy.
She wanders back to the classroom absentmindedly, maybe 15 minutes before lunch period. No should be in there and yet, when she slides open the door, she’s met with ruby eyes.
Of course.
He seems to be done with his lunch, working on some paper, but upon a close look she can tell it’s a list of hero names. She takes her seat silently, clearly a little angry, but he doesn’t press it. Not until—
“You’re doing it again.”
She snatches her pencil case from above her head and nearly glares at him. “Sorry.” She mutters, arms crossed.
“About what? You’re clearly pissed off and you’re apologizing?” He snorts, twisting his pencil between his fingers. She doesn’t let herself linger on his surprising lithe hands.
“Nothing.” She lies and doesn’t unfold her arms.
“Liar.” He accuses and points at face.
“When you lie, your nose twitches weird, like some kinda rabbit.” She knows this, of course, but not one person has ever really picked up on it.
She doesn’t know if she finds it creepy or flattering. Although she is a little insulted he called it weird.
“I…” She hesitates, unsure of whether she wants to vent to Bakugo. “My friend just upset me is all.” It comes out in a mumble.
“Want me to kill Deku?”
A pause. Then a laugh. Then Ochaco finds herself in full force giggles.
“No! No, it wasn’t on purpose.” Her mirth begins to fade and she sees the annoyance smeared across his face.
He turns away and Ochaco cranes her neck under his chin to look up at him.
“I’m flattered though I guess?” She teases and Bakugo’s eyes snap back to her.
He’s looking straight into her eyes and then his eyes dart to her lips, a glance she doesn't miss, and then back up.
It’s less playful and more tense now and she’s realizing how much of Bakugo’s personal space she’s invaded, how close she is and that if she just leans forward, their noses—
He jerks away and clears his throat dramatically as the class of the door slides open again. Something is coiled tightly in her chest and it should be relief, really, but relief is supposed to relax her. Like a wave washing over her. Not make her feel like there’s a small stone lodged directly in the bottom of her throat.
She’s disappointed.
That afternoon confirms that Ochaco is effectively losing her mind. She certainly doesn’t dream of kisses that smell like ash and touches that feel like kerosine ignited on her skin. She does not. She refuses.
Things have to end, she can’t continue this toiling wave of emotional turbulence that is completely ruining her plans for married life with Izuku. A clean cut.
So, she decides, she will pay him back and apologize. Then promptly, never speak to him again. An easy solution.
She doesn’t know if he’ll actually meet her outside of school but she does manage to slip the paper with the location inside of his notebook.
She’s managed to slip away from party duties for now, Tenya’s vigilance failing him just long enough for her to slip out of the room. So instead of gluing tinsel to poster board, she’s inside the little convenience store down the street from the school.
The lights are soft, missing the usual harsh whiteness, dimmed maybe, and replaced by cheesy Christmas ones. The glow in the store is dimmed silvers and golds, the normal muted whiteness retained but the scene is still entirely too romantic for her tastes.
So she sets herself to staring at the giant poster that reads: “ALL MIGHT WISHES YOU A HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!” Three exclamations are a bit much.
She’s debating about whether to buy some pringles when Bakugo actually arrives. He stands in front of her, expectantly, a judgmental glance thrown at the can of sour cream and onion chips in her hands.
She’s beginning to think this was a bad idea.
“Here,” She extends a wad of bills towards him. Quick, like ripping off a band-aid. “I don’t like—”
“Keep it.” He interrupts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I don’t need it.”
“Excuse me?” Was this some kind of twisted pity? There’s one thing Ochaco hates more than being lied to. And it’s pity. “Well neither do I. Now take this as repayment for earlier this week.”
He doesn’t reach his hand out, in fact, he just looks away. “Is this all you wanted me to come here for?” He sounds uncomfortable and his ears and nose are red from the cold outside.
Is that all? She hates him. She can’t imagine any universe where she thought she ever liked him. Did he expect her to confess or something?
Instead, she drops her hand, and lets the money float there. Her gaze is nothing but a challenge.
One second. The lights make his face look softer somehow, less sharp edges.
2 seconds. He doesn’t look angry at all and she wonders if she’s doing something wrong. She’s trying to make him angry.
It’s nearly 3 seconds when she realizes that he’s sealed his lips over hers.
It’s at 4 seconds when she actually processes what’s happening.
He doesn’t taste like ash. Not like she’d thought at least, not like a smoker or anything bitter. If anything, it’s more like a crackling fire, low and deep and pleasant. Not sweet, but burning and tangy on her tongue.
He does however kiss like he goes about anything in his life, angry and passionate. And strangely clumsy despite his confidence.
His teeth clack against hers and she’s at a loss, hands hanging at her sides while his are threaded between her hair, palms resting behind her ears.
He seems to notice her lack of response and pulls away immediately. Her eyes are wide, blank and surprised at the same time.
The bills flutter into the floor between them.
“Right.” She says, rolling the word in her mouth, the taste of fire still lingering. “I am going to… go.”
She can’t help but that All Might is judging her from under his santa hat, the poster almost boring into her as she leaves the store. And Bakugo.
She’s always been terrible at taking the easy way out.
She avoids Bakugo for two complete days after that and he really doesn’t mind. They sit in a tense silence in class, refusing to look in each other’s direction or even act like it happened. They eat on separate sides of the cafeteria. They don’t even stay in the same room very long.
At least until the Christmas party.
“So how’s it going with Bakugo?” Mina says slyly, swirling some egg nog in her cup. She’s not even really going to drink it, Ochaco knows, but it’s Christmas.
“There was never anything going on with Bakugo.” She replies, a bit miffed that everyone has jumped off of the Izuku/Ochaco train.
“You’re lying. Your nose did that ugly twitch thing.” Mina accuses. She almost brings her hand up to self-consciously cover her face. Does everyone know about that?
“No, I’m not.” She insists anyway, lips pursed. Ochaco raises a brow challengingly.
Mina, surprisingly, leaves the topic alone. Ochaco can only feel relief when she bounces off to hug Momo instead of looking at her with those knowing eyes.
“She’s right you know.” Mineta intejects, shattering the silence and scaring Ochaco enough that some of her apple juice splashes onto her shirt.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ochaco sniffs. “I’m confessing to Izuku tonight.”
“Wait. Bakugo has been mooning over you for a week now and you’re going to curve him like that?”
Curve him?
Ochaco learned long ago to ignore anything Mineta says.
“Even if I changed my mind–” Ochaco narrows her eyes at the shorter boy.
“Which I didn’t! I already sent the note to Izuku.”
“This note?” Ochaco chokes on air a little bit as Mineta dangles an unfolded slip of paper in front her. Damn it, Izuku, you really can’t keep a secret. At Mineta’s displeased frown, Ochaco clears her throat.
“Well, it’s still too late.” She makes a show of checking a watch that she’s not wearing. “I have to be on my way already– oh, if you ever show that note to anyone I will send you to space.”
Mineta gulps and Ochaco takes it as a personal victory.
Ochaco feels especially girlish when she hears the way her heels click along the hallway and feels the way her skirt swishes around her knees. The boosted confidence does nothing to keep the guilt from gnawing away at her spirit.
Was Mineta telling the truth? The idea of Bakugo having feelings for her doesn’t–no, surprisingly, it sits fine with her. It sits so fine with her that she halts in the hallway and her heart leaps into her throat.
Was she really entertaining this thought? Sure, she knows that it isn’t one-sided (A feeling she doesn’t quite get with Izuku.) but… Bakugo? Sure he’s incredibly strong and handsome and has actually respected her as an equal but—
God. She might have a crush on Bakugo. Her standards really have lowered. The memory of everyone’s knowing glances as she stomped out of the party is utterly embarrassing. Dread piles in her stomach because now she gets to make a fool of herself for a second time tonight and probably not the last.
She makes the shameful walk to the supply closet and shoves her way in. Despite the tight fit and the assortment of mops threatening to fall on her, she manages to shut the door behind her, engulfing the room in darkness. Not before her her abdomen brushes against the door as she shuts it, her arm gently touching the wall, a sudden stickiness making contact with her skin.
“Mineta!” Ochaco hisses and nearly tries to pull at the orb before she remembers just exactly what his quirk entails.
The door opens for a split second and Ochaco can’t tell who it is until they crash into her, body slotting against hers familiarly.
“Bakugo?” The door slams behind him.
“Work it out you two!” Oh, she knows that voice. Bakugo only huffs, body rigid with barely contained anger. Please do not burn down the closet, she prays silently, before confronting the voice.
“Mina?” Of course, she should’ve know that Mineta couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. The response she gets is nothing but a laugh and what sounds suspiciously like a high five.
She tries to push Bakugo away so she can track both of her ‘friends’ down but it is only then that she realizes the...gravity of the situation.
She’s stuck to Bakugo.
“Fuck this.” Bakugo yanks away and Ochaco can only give a yelp of pain at the sudden tug, her forehead knocking into his chin.
“Thanks.” Ochaco says dryly and brings a hand up to rub her forehead.
“You’re welcome.” He retorts, equally unimpressed as he looks anywhere but her face.
“That was sarcasm, I wouldn’t expect–“ Bakugo struggles again, stepping to the left this time. His foot catches the rim of a mop bucket, sloshing the dirty water onto Ochaco’s skirt and legs.
This is how Ochaco finds herself damp, freezing, and unmistakably (and regrettably) glued to Bakugo.
Who is question, elbows her in the stomach, trying to separate them at the waist. She can’t really breathe from where she’s being pinned against the wall and under different circumstances, being touched by a boy in a supply closet would be scandalous.
Instead, it feels like something that’s going to bruise a lot in the morning. And happens to incite nothing but irritation and discomfort in Ochaco.
Except it doesn’t look that way, at least to Izuku, who happened opened the door sometime in the last ten seconds. Only to see them intertwined, faces hot and breath unsteady.
So Izuku just stands in the supply closet doorway, slack-jawed. “I’m—I’m so sorry!” He finally moves and Ochaco sort of wants to die. His face flashes a color similar to her own and he ducks out of the room quickly.
“W-ait!” She wheezes as Bakugo’s wrist connects roughly with the fleshy part of her abdomen. “Will you stop it?” She snaps to Bakugo instead, and surprisingly, he does.
It occurs to both of them, it seems, of how close they are. The muffled sounds of the Christmas party down the hall do nothing to alleviate the atmosphere and Ochaco wants to shy away desperately.
‘Merry Christmas!’ Some higher being seems to taunt. ‘Your crush just saw you and his rival feeling each other up in the closet at the annual Christmas party where you initially planned to confess!’
She blames Mineta for what is possibly the worst Christmas ever.
The next day is filled with a slow creep of awkwardness, from everyone, not just Bakugo. Mineta seems to have absolutely zero guilt but she can see the terror in his eyes everytime she catches his gaze and makes a shearing motion against her neck.
It seems that because Mineta knew, Mina knew, which means that Momo knew, and if Momo knows then Todoroki does, which means that… Izuku knows.
Ochaco avoids Izuku until lunch. Partly because she’s never been a good liar and also because he seems to already know. He’s sort of smug about it.
“So Bakugo?” Izuku smiles behind his sandwich before taking a bite. Ochaco flushes against her will.
“No.” Ochaco answers quickly. Maybe too quickly. Izuku chews thoughtfully as he stares back at her. “I mean, maybe. Yes. I think so?” Izuku laughs a little as he sets his sandwich back down on his plate.
“Good. I might…” Izuku looks nervous all of a sudden, eyes darting away from Ochaco. “Have told him that you would meet him after lunch.”
She spits up a little of her sprite. “To do what?” She splutters, wiping her face with a napkin.
This seems to amuse Izuku and Ochaco suddenly feels the urge to scratch her neck.
“Whatever you want I guess.” He wraps his half-eaten sandwich up as he replies before grabbing his lunch tray.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ochaco says indignantly, following him with her own lunch tray.
The way that Izuku grins makes Ochaco go red all the way up to her hairline.
The first thing that Bakugo does is call her an idiot.
She comes flying down the staircase after lunch, a small stutter to her step as she sees a blonde head poking over the railing at the bottom. It turns out to be not much of a mistake because she stumbles at near the bottom and in all of Bakugo’s collected-ness, he scrambles towards her, arm effectively clotheslining her in the stomach.
She wheezes and grips his shoulder, digging her blunt nails into his rolled up sleeves. “Idiot.” She scowls underneath her hair and squeezes his shoulder harder despite his wince.
“Says you.” Ochaco replies childishly, straightening before immediate skulking back into herself at his intense gaze.
She almost feels like she has the eyes of a dragon boring into her head. Then it’s gone.
“Whatever. I’m going for hot cocoa.” Ochaco is torn between snorting and huffing at the dramatic shift in mood. She should really be rethinking this whole thing.
“Right now?” Ochaco laughs now that his back is to her. Is he asking her out?
He turns his head just a fraction and she can see his teeth flash into a smile.
“Yeah, you comin’ or what?”
Ochaco actually groans then. “That's not cute OR romantic.”
She jogs to catch up with him anyway, swearing that she's not sweaty OR nervous. He tilts his head to her… Wait. Is he blushing?
“I’m neither.” He says gruffly. Ochaco rolls her eyes at the unnecessary show of pride.
“Okay, Mr. Manly Man. You’re paying.” She shoves her bag into his arms, spinning a little on her heels as she gives him a playful smile. He looks a little dumbstruck and flushed, a flash of satisfaction courses through Ochaco.
It’s short lived though because she almost trips flat on her face at the next thing he says.
“Besides, you’re cute enough for the both of us.” He pokes the soft part of stomach before smirking lazily. Ochaco chokes down the lump in her throat at his obvious smugness and raises her chin defiantly.
“You bet I am.”
They don't actually drink any hot cocoa, but there are other ways to keep warm, Ochaco soon finds out.
“Give me my scarf back. Ochaco? Ochaco come back here. Seriously. I will kill you if you don’t give it back right now.”