Work Text:
Ochako finds herself stuck with the person she has tried avoiding at all costs. The one that haunts her every dream and fantasy.
And his name is Bakugou Katsuki.
Why is this a problem? Good question. The lovely answer to that is that they're pushed in a fucking closet together all because her dumb, yet loveable friend Mina wants to make her life hell.
Okay, maybe that's being a little facetious. Mina hardly knows the actual reason as to why Ochako wants to be away from Katsuki as much as possible. But it isn't like she can just tell her he's the reason for her late arrival to class in the mornings and her constant trips to the laundry room when she runs out of clean underwear.
That's just embarrassing.
Mina has done this before with other classmates of theirs when they had an argument or whatever other dilemma it may have been. But this isn't going to solve anything. It's only about to make things worse. At the rate things are going, and with how little space there is between the two of them, Ochako wants to float into the ceiling and never come back down.
“Cheeks.” Ochako inhales. His voice cuts through the small space. She's known him long enough to hear the anger in it. “You're avoiding me.”
Ochako has the urge to ask how he'd even noticed. He doesn't remember her name after three years, and still uses cheesy nicknames for her. If it isn't “Round Face”, it's that. So how did he catch on?
He doesn't listen to other's warnings or “words of wisdom” as Todoroki eloquently put it one day. He takes what he sees or hears and follows his gut.
Seems the one time Katsuki decides to pay attention is the one where Ochako wished she was still invisible to him.
What she would give to have Hagakure’s quirk right now.
Though the light in the closet is a tiny slit in the door, she's afraid the heat coming off her cheeks will be a dead giveaway. Katsuki is less than a step from where she stands. If she leaned forward, her chest would touch the bottom of his.
He can't know. She tells herself, though that much has been obvious for weeks. Normally, she would cross her arms while confronting someone, but that would make their personal bubbles that much smaller if she did. She settles at clenching her fists at her side for the time being and asks, “Why's it matter?”
Hardly anything phases Katsuki. You could try scaring him in the middle of the night and he wouldn't blink, let alone react. But here, where she would have to squint to see his face, his retort comes out as a stutter.
“Wh- I- The fuck do you mean ‘why does it matter’?” Katsuki snaps, “We go from training every goddamn week, to you suddenly having some shitty excuses as to why you can't go. That's why it matters!”
“They're not shitty to me.”
That's a lie, along with the other ones she's cooked up. If she has to tell Katsuki one more time that she was visiting family (that hadn't been alive in decades) or had homework to do, she might actually go crazy. And he has the right to be upset, given that Ochako told him directly that she would be on time for their sparring sessions and would give him some sort of heads up, should something come up and she has time to.
The problem with that is Ochako kind of… tells him she can't make it at the last second. Like, ten minutes before they're meant to see each other. If it was maybe one or two things that had “no notice”, it would seem more normal, but this is every single time for the last several weeks. In retrospect, Ochako should've thought that through.
So yeah. He is justified to be pissed off.
Now Ochako is stuck with the physical/emotional/sexually attractive obstacle she worked so hard to avoid and it's all her fault.
A shiver runs down Ochako’s spine hearing Katsuki growl impatiently. Her obvious attempts at dodging the call-out don't go unnoticed and that is evident in the heat radiating off Katsuki. She swallows, her mouth dry and hands clammy with sweat.
Already the sweet scent wafting off his skin is making heat form that's slowly traveling down to settle in her core. She tries to keep her breathing steady, in through her nose and out her mouth, but it isn't easy when she can taste the caramel on her tongue and smell the burnt sugar that's growing thicker the longer they stay in here.
She has two options. Either she puts on her big-girl pants and admits to Katsuki flat out that she gets unbelievably turned on by him – on top of the fact she has a big fat crush – or she tucks tail and lets Katsuki attack her with an explosion she knows he's ready to let off.
Ochako is going to be a hero. She saves/has saved lives. There should be no reason as to why she hasn't confessed or told Katsuki the straight up truth when she has fought the cruelest of villains.
But Katsuki isn't just some no-named villain or another day on the job. He's her friend. The last thing she wants is for Katsuki, who is emotionally stunted as it is, to lose faith or trust in her for wanting something he may not be able to provide.
“Pinky wouldn't have put us in here if we were being honest with each other.” Katsuki says. His voice is calm, level, “So either you fess up, or I'll make you.”
Make me?! Ochako is so glad it's dark because her face is on fire. Her toes tingle and stomach lurches, another wave of arousal simmering in a place she desperately wants to touch. Katsuki goes quiet, but she can tell he's a bomb waiting to go off. She's on a timer now, and if she doesn't say something, anything to fix their complicated friendship, then she might lose Katsuki forever.
Oh screw it. They're going to graduate soon. She's going to become a full grown, responsible adult with a job that is life-threatening. She's 18, damnit. It's time to stop being scared.
Raising her index finger so her quirk doesn't activate, she reaches forward and puts her hand on Katsuki’s arm. A sharp intake of breath makes her heart skip. He's warm and littered in speckles of sweat but that’s never bothered her. It's part of who he is.
“Bakugou.” She starts. Her whole body is shaking. “I'm sorry for ignoring you.” A disbelieving scoff cuts her off for a moment before she continues, “It wasn't– isn't right. I should've been up front from the get-go.”
Without seeing him, she can tell he's tempted to ask what she means but instead stays silent. It's unnerving, yet Ochako keeps going. “There was a reason this whole time, one I was terrified to say, let alone admit to myself. I didn't believe the feeling at first, thinking I was just latching onto the first person that gave me more attention than the others. I refused to acknowledge it… until it took over my heart.”
His pulse under her thumb grows faster. She can hear his breaths rise in speed. But he doesn't pull away.
“You took over my thoughts, Bakugou. I couldn't stop thinking about you through class, or training, or at night when I couldn't sleep.” She says softly, “I still do.”
Her nose brushes his. He stands still, frozen in place as if he's become one of the many objects sitting on the shelf above their heads. She has no clue if he's okay with affection like this, but there's only one way to find out.
She tilts her head, whispers a quiet, “I like you,” and kisses Katsuki.
There's no fireworks or fire flowing through her veins. It settles in her like she’d kissed him 100 times before. It feels familiar, welcoming.
Ochako knows it isn't the same for Katsuki. The way he tenses up and stops breathing altogether says that for him.
So she waits patiently, eyes shut tight and hand gripping his arm to keep herself steady just in case Katsuki acts recklessly (not that she thinks he will).
But then slowly, so slowly Ochako takes a second to register it, Katsuki parts his lips and reciprocates.
His lips are chapped in the corners and his fear-mongering tongue flicks across her lower lip as the kiss deepens from chaste pecks to open-mouthed ones. She caresses his jaw with her thumb, coaxing him further.
Katsuki has always driven head first into anything in his way, but with this he takes his time, a syrupy type of bliss removing Ochako's debate to pull back. With much needed, yet unplanned practice, Katsuki starts to gain control, burying a hand in her hair, the other gripping her hip.
She jostles, suddenly having the urge to get closer. Like his kiss, Katsuki explores, mapping out Ochako's curves and dips of her body. They don't stay in one place for too long, as if he's trying to memorize how his fingers feel on her.
Ochako opens her mouth, allowing Katsuki’s tongue to brush hers, and the heat becomes uncontainable. Her underwear is sticky, skin prickling with goosebumps at his touch. Her elation only gets worse when he fully invades her space and pushes her against the wall, their lips never disconnecting. Katsuki shoves his leg between Ochako's thighs, all while sucking on her bottom lip like letting her go is the last thing he wants to do.
Small breathy moans leave her, uncaring of whatever audience may be on the other side of the closet, if there even is one. The noises encourage Katsuki, groaning around Ochako's surname rather than her given.
But hey. That's a step up. She'll fucking take it.
His thigh is dangerously close to connecting with her lower half. A few scant inches from providing friction for Ochako makes her whine, trying to tell him in the middle of kisses what she wants.
“M-More.” Ochako pleads, the words coming out slurred. “Closer, Bakugou. I need you clo– oh!”
Stars flicker behind her eyelids that shut at some point. Katsuki smirks. It's visible through the chuckle he lets out. His grip turns tighter, and his own excitement nudges her leg.
This is getting out of hand. If they keep moving like they are, she might do or say something she can't take back. As much as it pains her, having these moments in a closet, hell, any further conversation for that matter, is not how she envisions the rest of their night to go.
Kisses and a whispered confession wasn't going to cut it, and most especially sex/any variation of it. She needs to hear Katsuki tell her how he feels, and then they can make the next move.
Which is… Ochako doesn't know. A planned date? An awkward goodbye for the evening?
…Sex? Is that going too fast?
“Hey you two! I hope you fixed your iss– ah!” Mina shuts the door quickly, not looking for too long. “Sorry! I didn't know you were busy. Stay as long as you want!”
Ochako had stopped the kiss the moment light came barreling in the closet, but she winces as it slams shut again. Katsuki breathes heavily into her hair. His hands don't leave her waist.
“Fucking extras.” Katsuki grumbles. Ochako snorts, unable to help herself. What perfect timing Mina has.
They stand there for a moment, digesting what just happened. Katsuki still has his thigh pressed into her and she's still unbelievably horny. She knows she's a right mess, and there's no telling how mussed Katsuki’s hair is or how his lips look. She wasn't holding back and is sure they're puffy.
When she moves, it is much, much more. A pretty pink flush covers his cheeks, lips swollen and red, which would match his eyes if his pupils weren't blown out. His hair is messy but not unlike normal.
If anything, his clothing got the brunt of her roaming hands.
“U-Um.” She squeaks, clearing her throat and pushing from Katsuki, stifling the moan when his jean-clad thigh connects with her again, “We should talk.”
Katsuki grunts, nodding. He rubs the back of his neck and looks to the side. “Fine.”
Something in her says what they were doing in the closet isn't done yet. So she bites her lip that stings when pressure is put on it, and asks, “...Unless you want to–”
“Yeah.”
To their credit, they do talk. Eventually.
But only after making out for a few more hours and getting that budding release they both craved from each other.