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Midoriya Izuku, 27 years old, translator. He tried the freelance life but it wasn’t paying enough, and he was already living in the most expensive city in Japan, so he had to accept that working at an agency would provide him with the stability that he needed right now.
Sure, he could continue living with his mom, and he suspects she would be more than happy to still have him there, and that is exactly why he should leave.
His anxiety was through the roof, having to show up to an office when he had been comfortably working from home, on his own laptop, for a few years now was a sudden change but he saw no other options. It’s okay, he could handle it, he always did, he’d just complain first.
His boss, a very kind man Izuku believed to be in his 50’s named Bubaigawara that run here and there, almost as if he was cloning himself to be everywhere at once, assigned him to be mentored by a more experienced coworker. His mentor would be Bakugo Katsuki, 28 years old, also a translator, although he is starting his way into the administrative parts of the job, Izuku learns.
Bakugo shows him everything he needs to know to work there, from all the software they use (which Izuku had experience with, although not extensive) to the special petitions and restrictions the clients they work with have.
It’s a lot of information to take in but Izuku has always been good at taking notes, so he had been using his notebook to write detailed step by step instructions for everything he had to do. He’d rather throw himself out of the window than asking about a process that was already explained to him before.
Bakugo notices his note taking habits and is kind enough to slow down his explanations, allowing Izuku to take as detailed notes as he wanted. For someone with a scowl basically tattooed on his face, he was very patient and gentle when explaining.
Days turned into weeks and before he could tell, he had been working there for almost six months. By now, he didn’t ask Katsuki (he had insisted Izuku calls him by his first name, as he had enough of “that Bakugo crap”, his words, with all the emails he was receiving and sending daily) too many questions, and mostly confirmed if what he wanted to do with a certain task was correct or not.
It started around this time. A coffee here and there, a box of mochi that Katsuki insisted on sharing with their team, Izuku first. And then, after some more months had passed, they were suddenly meeting at the train station to walk to the office together. The one who got there first would buy coffee, tea or their latest favorite, hot chocolate, for the other. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened often enough that it felt like routine.
Then, one day, in their little office’s kitchen area, Izuku heard it. Katsuki was loudly complaining to another coworker, a middle-aged woman from the Quality Assurance team named Kayama (who, if Izuku might say, had a… curious sense of fashion when it came to work clothes, often being threatened to be written up if she didn’t cover a bit, but she always laughed away the threats), about the new adaptations of the classic All Might movies.
The woman seemed to nod along to everything that Katsuki was saying but her expression made it clear that she had no idea why it was so awful that they were remaking the movies when the originals were clearly masterpieces.
Izuku couldn’t help but laugh. Not because he disagreed, but because that sounded exactly like something he would have said himself, so he sat next to Katsuki to make sure his mentor had someone who understood what he was talking about on the other end of his rant.
Katsuki asks for Izuku’s phone number so he can send him some exclusive All Might printables that were only available for official fanclub members years ago. They, of course, keep messaging each other after the printables are sent.
This is how Izuku learns that Katsuki and him got into the translation career path for the same reason: All Might. When they were kids, the movies were available dubbed (a concept that a child is not able to comprehend, really. In their eyes, All Might was as Japanese as them) but, as they grew up, they saw on forums and other fan spaces many references to the “original material” and how sometimes dub and original dialogues would vary, even changing completely in some parts. That was what had compelled them to study English and, with time, getting their degrees as translators.
They quickly discover that they even shared some online fan spaces, like old forums. Izuku wonders if they ever interacted that way but is still too shy to ask for his online username. He’s curious, but not curious enough to force a situation in which he would have to reveal his own username (it would be rude to ask for Katsuki’s and not give his own) and risk his mentor finding out about his… reading habits online.
More months go by like this and now Izuku is around his one year mark in the office. He was included in Kacchan’s (the nickname had come naturally from all their online chatting, and Kacchan didn’t seem to mind it) group of friends from the office, some with several years of experience working there. Two reviewers, Ashido and Hanta, a translator, Kaminari, and a team lead, Kirishima.
He had also made friends on his own. The desks were arranged in workstations for 4 people, so he had to interact with the other 3 people sitting on his. Izuku sat on the corner, next to the enormous windows, where he was able to see the people rushing through the busy streets of Tokyo. To his right sat Uraraka, who had started in the company a few months before him. The soft-spoken girl had helped him settle and showed him around the office when he started there, focusing on the kitchen space, where they had unlimited coffee, milk and even snacks that they could grab whenever they needed.
Across from him sat Iida, an experienced reviewer who had worked as a freelancer for many years before settling in the office. He was very strict in regards to processes and quality, but he could also see when a client was not being reasonable with their requests and could write the politest “Please, reconsider this horrible idea” emails that Izuku had seen.
In the remaining desk from the workstation sat Todoroki. He was doing the same job as Kacchan, but his style was much more… indifferent. While Kacchan would easily become mad at project managers and clients, wanting to send explosive emails that Bubaigawara usually had to double-check before being sent, Todoroki would just use the legendary “As per attached communication,” and be done with it.
Life in the office wasn’t as bad as Izuku had imagined, and he was settling into his comfortable routine when Bubaigawara announced to him that he was eligible for a promotion, he would now be a reviewer. This, of course, also came with a pay increase, and Izuku could not be happier.
However, he did the math and it still wouldn’t be enough to live on his own comfortably. His friends, along with Kacchan, invited him for drinks to celebrate his promotion. Izuku accepted, even when he wasn’t fully feeling like celebrating.
Kacchan had been persistently looking at him, and when Izuku sighed for maybe the tenth time since they had arrived at the izakaya, he had asked him what was going on.
Izuku, feeling even more open than usual, explained his housing situation problem to his mentor. Kacchan nodded along while Izuku vented, and they fell into a silent pause once he had finished talking. But not in a million years could Izuku have imagined how the other was going to break the silence.
Kacchan had offered him to be roommates. Izuku thought for a minute that he was hallucinating, because while they could be considered friends by now, cohabitating a space was a big step that Izuku wasn’t sure if would be overstepping.
Due to his very obvious blushing and flustered state, the rest of the party asked what was wrong and Kacchan explained, no details regarding his mom mentioned.
The group assured him that it would not be an issue, as some of their other colleagues had similar arrangements. Some of them came from other prefectures, they explained, and Tokyo was very expensive as it was, so the easiest solution was for colleagues to share apartments.
Izuku promised Kacchan to give him an answer after he could think about it for some days, just to make sure that he wasn’t making a rushed decision. He knew though that the decision was already made, he would start living with Kacchan.
A few weeks passed and Izuku made all the necessary arrangements to move his stuff out of his mother’s apartment. She had been inconsolable for an entire evening when Izuku told her of his plans, complaining about sons that leave their poor mothers once they are independent enough. However, her attitude immediately changed for the better once Izuku mentioned that he was going to live with Kacchan. Izuku had told his mom about him, of course. About him being his mentor, and how he sometimes accompanied him to the station, leaving their coffee/chocolate routine part out. But she knew that her son’s eyes glimmered differently when talking about his coworker. And Izuku hated that she knew because… There was nothing he could do about his stupid little crush on his coworker.
While relationships were not explicitly prohibited by the company, he knew that they could be seen as unprofessional, and he hadn’t been there that long, so he felt like he couldn’t risk any type of misinterpretation on Kacchan’s side that would make him uncomfortable or would raise an HR case.
And that was another reason he was still not entirely sure that the roommate arrangement was a good idea, but he had already accepted and he wouldn’t back out now.
But Izuku forgot an important detail: when it was really important, life seemed to hate him. How else could he explain that, while all of his boxes and bags with clothes were correctly and timely delivered on Kacchan’s apartment, the company of the new bed and mattress that he had bought for his new room “have been misplaced in the delivery step and will need to be sent back to the central delivery station before being resent to the address”, or so had said the representative that called him that afternoon.
While he could go back to his mom’s house and wait for the bed and mattress to be redelivered, he felt so exhausted with the moving that the mere thought of preparing a bag with clothes to take to his mom’s made him want to cry.
Kacchan, who was looking at him from the open kitchen space, saw him pacing in the living room and asked if the moving company had broken something important, offering to call and make a complaint on Izuku's behalf if that was the case. Instead, Izuku asked if he could use the couch for a few days, and explained the mix up with the bed delivery.
The only response he got was a raised eyebrow. Now Izuku was panicking because everything in Kacchan’s apartment looked so well kept, of course he would not want him sleeping on the couch and risk ruining it. Izuku apologised and went to grab his bag to throw in a few clothes before leaving for his mom’s.
“Oi, nerd, what the fuck are you doing?” the eyebrow, still raised, was following Izuku’s movement across the apartment space.
“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll go back to my mom’s for a few days until the bed is delivered correctly. I’ll let you know when they call me and I’ll be here to receive it, don’t worry, I won’t bother you with this.”
“Where the hell do you think you are going? It’s almost dinner time, Izuku, and you are exhausted and need to take a shower,” his tone sounded firm, as if he was scolding Izuku.
“I-uhh… I’m fine, don’t worry, I’ll eat with my mom,” he said as he was finally closing the bag, ready to leave the apartment.
“Like hell you are, don’t be stupid, I’ll make dinner in a minute,” Kacchan was now putting on a black cooking apron with orange straps that formed an X when crossed in the back, Izuku could only think how good the color combination suited his now roommate.
“Kacchan, you really don’t have to, it’s okay, I don’t want to ruin your couch sleeping on it either so it’s best if I just leave now,” and Izuku was marching towards the door again, bag on his shoulder, and kicking himself for losing the opportunity to try Kacchan’s homemade food so freshly made.
“Who said anything about sleeping on the couch? You’re not making any sense. I have plenty of space in my room, I have a king bed, we can share until the extras from the delivery company get it right,” he casually said while chopping what looked like vegetables and mushrooms.
Had Izuku heard right? Sharing the bed? Kacchan’s bed? Maybe he fell off the stairs when moving the boxes that day and this was his weird version of heaven.
Maybe he was too shameless to refuse such an invitation, and while he knew it didn’t mean the same to Kacchan, he convinced himself that opportunities like this were a one-time thing only, so he would take it.
Izuku put his bag down, thanking him profusely and assuring him that he would not disturb his sleep in any way. Kacchan shut the thankful rant quickly and ordered Izuku to go shower while he finished dinner.
After his shower, they eat dinner together, sitting in the same open kitchen space. Izuku loved his mother’s cooking, but Kacchan’s chanko nabe just hit differently.
Izuku occupied himself with the task of taking his clothes out of the bags and placing them in his bedroom after offering to wash the dishes and being denied.
He was immersed in the task when a knock on the open door to his room startled him. It was Kacchan letting him know that he was going to bed, and to make sure to finish that quickly if he didn’t want to disturb him after he was already asleep as he had said.
Izuku hurried and made sure to take his pajamas with him to the bathroom. He’d usually wear his ridiculous All Might shorts to bed combined with an All Might themed shirt, but now that someone else was going to see him, it all felt so childish.
He prayed that Kacchan was already asleep when he left the bathroom, so he could slip in bed without being noticed and to not give his roommate more ammo to tease him (a habit that never died down, seeming to even worsen as their friendship progressed).
But of course, Izuku had used all the luck the universe had for him in the opportunity to share a bed with his crush, so when he got out of the bathroom, Kacchan was looking at something on his phone, very much still awake.
Similarly to that same afternoon, he only received a raised eyebrow and a teasing smirk. He rushed to the empty side of the bed, covering as much as he could with the clothes he had on his arms, pink starting to flush his face.
He left the regular clothes over the nightstand next to his side of the bed and quickly slipped in, pulling the blankets up until they hid his eyes.
He could only hear Kacchan snort and move on his side of the bed, followed by the distinct sound of a switch flip and a “Goodnight, Freckles”.
Now that the light was off, Izuku was sure that his face would start to glow in the dark from redness. His heart was beating so fast that it would escape his ribcage any minute now. He had to force himself to uncover his face before he’d die of asphyxia and to calm down.
This arrangement was only for a few days, and Izuku had to make the most of it while it lasted. He’d probably have to pull every stunt under the sun, and he would even ask Uraraka for tips, but now he was sure that this situation could not be anything other than a fated bond, if such things existed in the world outside the stories he (secretly) enjoyed.
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