Chapter Text
Izuku tried to cook. He really did! But there was always so much to do when it came to cooking a meal. Grocery shop, prep, cut, clean, season, don’t burn anything, don’t let anything go cold, check the oven, set the table, and plate the food—nicely. Honestly, it got really overwhelming really quickly.
At least he could make some things! He was fine at using the rice cooker and making eggs, he loved making spam musubi with his mom. But at dinner time, he was more than comfortable taking the backseat. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn, he just didn’t know where to start.
When he spoke to his mother about this, Inko was thrilled! She’d love to help him get serious in the kitchen. It would be important, especially when he graduated college or decided to move out on his own. But, despite how much Izuku wished he could, sometimes you can’t learn things from your parents. Something about the close proximity, not wanting to be a disappointment, and the lingering effects of teenage rebellion.
So, for Izuku’s 20th birthday, Inko presented him with a certificate for about three months worth of cooking classes. The classes were held at the community center and were geared toward beginners. It was going to be perfect!
It was not perfect. When Izuku arrived at the community center, ten minutes early for class, he immediately ran into some guy, making him spill his coffee all over his crisp white shirt.
“Oh! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Crap!” Izuku stumbled through an apology. “This is totally my fault.”
“Yeah, no shit, idiot!” The man said, righting himself.
He was tall, a good head above Izuku. His blond hair stuck out at odd angles and his lips snarled. And his eyes, his eyes were a brilliant ruby red.
Izuku stared for a moment longer before he was pulled out of his trance by the stranger growling down at his ruined shirt.
“Uh, is there–? What can I do to help?” Izuku asked.
“Tch. Nothing. I have another shirt in my bag.” The man threw his empty coffee cup into the nearest trashcan and pulled his bag to the front of him. “Just watch where you’re going next time, dickhead.”
Izuku swallowed, and nodded aggressively, “Right. Of course! I am sorry, again! If-if it means anything!”
“Whatever. I gotta go.” The blond strode off down the hall, still gripping his bag. He was…interesting, Izuku decided. Definitely not nice, but well, he had made him spill his coffee all over his shirt. Izuku just hoped that the man wasn’t in his cooking class.
As if the universe couldn’t get more cruel than having Izuku make a fiery man spill coffee all over himself, the man was his cooking instructor.
This was going to be horri-fine. It was going to be fine. Izuku could handle it. He’d already apologized; what more could the guy want? For him to beg? Plus, he really had had another shirt with him so…
The blond clapped his hands and brought the class to attention. There were roughly 20 people scattered at the cooking stations set up around the room.
“Alright, extras. My name is Bakugo Katsuki. Just Bakugo works, though. I’m your cooking instructor for the next three months.” Bakugo stated plainly. Then he scowled, “And before you say anything, yeah, I get it, I’m young. But, I’ve been cooking for myself for a while, and if you’re here I know I’m a hell of a lot better at it than you are.”
Some of the people in the class snickered at this. Bakugo sure was cocky.
“Obviously,” Bakugo continued, “I said this was a cooking class. Hence the fucking cooking stations. If you aren’t supposed to be here, leave now.”
There was a moment of apprehensive silence as the students in class looked around to see if anyone was in the wrong place. No one was.
“Okay, great. So, I have a list of names I’m gonna run through, shout here if you’re here. We’re only gonna do this since it’s the first day. After that, I don’t care if you extras waste your money.”
There was more quiet laughter from around the classroom. Izuku wasn’t sure what to make of Bakugo. He was, again, definitely cocky, and a bit rude but he seemed genuine and serious about his role as teacher. Izuku would have to give him some more time before he ‘passed judgment’ on Bakugo.
Role went quickly. Bakugo called out last names then first names of the other people in class. Izuku thought he might know the one girl from his calculus class; he’d have to ask her later. When Bakugo got to Izuku though, things fell flat.
“Midoriya,” Bakugo paused when he saw Izuku start to raise his hand, then continued with, “Deku.”
“Oh, uh, it’s actually Izuku.”
Bakugo looked at him for a moment, considering. “No, I’m certain, you’re a Deku.”
At this Izuku’s mouth gaped. Sure, Izuku had spilled the guys coffee, but to be called a Deku? It didn’t feel great. And it especially didn’t feel great since they were in front of a whole class.
“Umm…” Izuku tried to say something else but Bakugo just kept going with the roll call.
For the rest of the class Izuku mostly avoided Bakugo’s attitude. The first class was fairly simple; just getting to know the way of the kitchen. The different types of knives and what you’d use them for, specific tools and cooking styles, the proper way to measure liquids. It wasn’t hard.
A few other students came under Bakugo’s fierce gaze. A boy a few years younger than Izuku tried to fence his station partner with a steak knife. It ended quickly; Bakugo barked at them calling them something like “stupid idiots with no sense of maturity or fucking kitchen safety.” A girl in her mid-teens spilled some water on the floor and Bakugo stopped class to make her mop it up and discuss the philosophy behind “cleaning as you go”. Truly, Bakugo was really knowledgeable in the kitchen! His passion and expertise made Izuku excited to learn how to properly cook.
When class was over Izuku felt good. He’d learned so many new things, stuff that his mom probably didn’t even know. He decided he would tell Bakugo this, and maybe apologize for the coffee thing again, so he stuck around for a moment after class was dismissed for the day.
He slowly made his way to the front of the room. There was a spacious, well lit industrial kitchen at the head of the room with stocked fridges and all types of seasonings, tools, pots, and pans on display. Bakugo seemed at home in the kitchen. Izuku wondered if this was his full time job: being a chef.
“Uh, um. Bakugo?” Izuku started timidly. Bakugo looked up at him from his station, he scowled.
“What.” It wasn’t a question.
“Oh! Um, I just wanted to say I really liked today's class! I’m really not good at cooking and getting a better understanding of all the different tools and ways to do things was really helpful. I usually don’t cook for myself. Not to say I can’t! Or that I, uh, expect other people to cook for me! It’s just that I’m really only good with the rice cooker and eggs, and like cereal. I, I eat more than just that though. My mom is a really good cook! She wasn’t able to tell me all the stuff you did today, but she makes really good Katsudon. Which is my absolute favorite meal. And on my birthday she made it extra special, it was really good! I just had my birthday actually, uh, that’s how I got into your class, it was a present from my mom and I’d just really-“
“Alright, nerd, I’m gonna stop you there.” Bakugo looked at Izuku, annoyed. “It’s great you know how to use a rice cooker and fry a fucking egg. My two year old cousin could probably do that too. Now, leave. Cause I gotta go to class.”
“Oh-oh! Yeah, alright, uh, sorry.”
Bakugo didn’t say anything, just shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking away.
———
In physics class the next day, Izuku talked to Ochako, who was his best friend and an enthusiastic listener.
“Yeah! And then we went over safety tips and he made the boys recite them back or he was going to kick them out of the class with no refund!” Izuku said, eyes wide. “Which seems a little harsh but they were playing with knives, so I get it!”
“That sounds so intense, Izuku-kun!” Ochako was smiling. It was always nice to hear about Izuku’s exploits, even if they seemed ridiculous.
“It kind of was! I wish you could come with me, it would be so fun!”
Ochako smiled and after another moment they shifted topics as they waited for their professor to come in and start class.
——–
Izuku showed up to the community center ten minutes early again. He wanted to claim a station closer to where Bakugo was demonstrating everything to make sure he was getting all the information he would need. It was a bummer he couldn’t take notes and cook at the same time, but he had made sure to write down everything he learned from the first class in one of his notebooks.
The second class was basic, even by Izuku’s standards. They were learning the proper way to boil water. Once Bakugo explained why they were learning this skill Izuku was a little more understanding. He didn’t want to see any of his classmates' kitchens get smoked out from forgetting a pot on the stove.
At least Bakugo made it interesting. They were making a buffet style meal to share as a class. Some stations were making tea, some were steaming vegetables, others were making Nikuman, miso soup, or rice.
The meal was good and it was nice to get to know his classmates more. Izuku was also proud of his miso soup.
While the class ate and mingled, Izuku noticed Bakugo at the front of the room still, very pointedly not interacting with anyone. Then, a moment later, two girls with black hair walked up to him with a bowl of food and chatted with him. Bakugo didn’t seem angry that they were there, just slightly annoyed. The shorter girl said something and punched him in the arm playfully. Before Bakugo could do anything, she stepped away and into the other girls’ side. Izuku thought he heard Bakugo tell her to die with a jeer, but the short girl just smiled at him before going back to her station with who appeared to be her girlfriend.
Bakugo looked around the room, still holding the bowl of food he’d been given. He scowled and took a bite. He made an even more disappointed face before putting the bowl down and drinking from his personal water bottle.
Two more classes passed in the same manner. But after the fourth one, Izuku got the courage to approach Bakugo again.
After class had been dismissed, Izuku approached Bakugo, who was packing up his backpack. It looked like he was a college student from the contents of the bag.
“Uh, where do you go to school?” Izuku asked while walking up to him.
“Tch, why? You gonna come to my classes there too, stalker?”
“No. No! I'm also in school!” Izuku said, hoping they could make some kind of friendly conversation. He still felt bad about the whole coffee situation from the beginning of the month. Izuku followed Bakugo as he started to leave the room. “I go to UA!”
Bakugo’s stride stalled for a moment before he kept going, side eyeing Izuku. “You? You go to UA?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m in my third year! I’m studying sports medicine.” Izuku gushed, he loved his school and his major. “What about you, Bakugo? Where do you go?”
Without any emotion, Bakugo answered, “UA.”
“What!? No way!” He practically yelled while beaming at Bakugo. Maybe he would see him around campus! “That’s so cool! We go to the same school! What are you studying? I didn’t think we had a culinary track. Do we?”
“What? You don’t think I could get in, shitty Deku?”
“What? No!” Izuku launched himself at Bakugo. He was frantically trying to apologize for the miscommunication and reached for Bakugo’s arm. He looked like he was going to cry.
“Tch. Alright, calm down, crybaby.” He batted his hands at Izuku. “Chemical engineering,” Bakugo said with a vicious smile. “I like to blow shit up.”
Whatever reaction Bakugo was looking for, he didn’t get it. Izuku gazed at Bakugo, impressed. “Oh, wow! That’s so cool! What exactly do you get to do? Are you mixing chemicals? Trying to create new products?”
Izuku faltered, then looked at Bakugo with wide eyes. “…making bombs?”
Katsuki laughed. This dumb idiot was an even bigger dumb idiot than Bakugo originally thought he was. Was he making bombs at school?
They were in the parking lot now, headed towards Katsuki’s car.
“No, Deku.” Katsuki said, “I do not make bombs at school. What kind of dumbass question is that?”
“Well I don’t know! You said you like to blow things up!” Izuku countered.
“Yeah, alright, whatever. I gotta go.” Katsuki unlocked his car and threw his bag in. “Bye, Deku.”
“Oh! Bye Bakugo! I didn’t even know this was your car. Maybe I’ll see you around cam-,” Izuku was cut off by Bakugo’s car door slamming shut. Bakugo immediately started the car and moved to pull away. Izuku stood there for another moment waving before turning towards his house.