Washing Dishes
in which sero’s been your roommate for almost nine months, but you don’t know much about him. now, though, you’re both stuck social distancing in your apartment, and it’s hard not to fall for a guy when you’re washing dishes together
sero hanta x reader
word count: 9k
genre: fluff, pro hero au, roommate au, slow burn
type: one-shot
reader: neutral (no pronouns, neutral terms, neutral clothing)
warnings: none
part of the alone together collab
sero finds you there, in front of the sink.
“what are you doing up? It’s late.”
waiting for him, you realize then. it hits you like a sack of bricks to the head, the fact that you hadn’t been able to sleep because you’d been worried about him, and that you’d left your room so that you’d run into him.
“can’t sleep,” you settle on telling him.
he stands there for a moment, regarding you, hair still wet from his shower and presumably only just having gotten in pajamas. you’re in your own—you’ve been ready for bed for hours, since just after he’d left for his shift.
“c’mere,” he says finally, reaching forward to take your hand, firm yet gentle. “let’s watch a movie.”
You’ve had more than a few roommates in your life. Growing up you’d shared a room with your younger sister, your dorm in high school was a rare three-person room, and once you’d moved on to college it was only a revolving door of new people to live with.
Moving into your first apartment had been a little intimidating, especially combined with the start of senior year and a new internship intended to turn into a career come graduation. You were tentative at best to answer the ad—but it took little more than a quick Google of the name to decide that Sero Hanta had seemed to be telling the truth about being a pro hero. When you met him he was certainly the man you’d seen in the sports festival videos and pictures.
Now, nine months later, you couldn’t be happier with the decision. Sero’s a model roommate; he’s never missed a rent payment, buys his share of groceries, cleans his room and takes out the trash when it’s his turn. Even his style of decor is remarkably top-notch for a 22 year old man.
If you had one complaint though, it would be that he’s a goddamn ghost.
Sure, he answers your texts, and obviously when groceries show up and rent is paid you know he’s not dead (Well, he’s a pro hero. Presumably you’d know from the news if he died). The two of you run into each other in the apartment perhaps once a week, tops. He leaves early in the morning and comes home after sunset; sometimes he’ll wake you up with a string of hushed cusses after tripping over some piece of furniture or your cat.
Aside from that, though, he’s honestly the best roommate you’ve ever had. And to be fair, you’re probably a bit of a ghost too, between your internship and your classes and applying for grad school, plus tutoring for a little extra cash.
Sometimes you think pro heroes have it easy, getting to jump right into their careers out of high school.
It’s a strange feeling when it all falls apart. It’s your senior year. You’ve imagined getting your diploma since your second year of high school. You had a job waiting for you. Mere days before your school shifts to online classes, you get accepted to your first-choice doctorate program—a full-ride that they’re paying you to attend. The resultant celebratory bar visit is the last group event your little circle of friends does together before social isolation is put in place. Your boss sends out an email saying that you’ll begin working from home at the same time your classes go online. Most of your work was in a lab though, and you have a strange little laugh with your two fellow interns wondering what the hell you’ll be doing from home.
And just like that, everything stops. You’re home for good, all human contact now occurring through a screen—all but your ghost of a roommate, that is.
You run into him for the first time in two weeks, on the first day of your Official Social Isolation, in your kitchen where you’re cooking (or, rather, while pretending to cook for your own sanity while you wait for your rice to finish).
“Damn, what’s that rice cooker ever done to you?”
You probably jump a meter in the air, whirling around to face Sero as he grabs an apple and moves to the sink to rinse it off. For half a moment, your early-morning brain panics at the sight of his hero uniform, an instinctual burst of oh god what’s a pro hero doing in my house what happened who’s in trouble, but then you remember that the fucker’s just your roommate who you never see.
“Shit man, don’t scare me like that.” You place a hand on your heart.
“Sorry,” he says, but the smile on his face says he’s more poking fun at you than he is apologetic. You stick your tongue out at him childishly and get an amused chuckle back.
You turn back to your rice cooker (its crime is taking too long to cook your damn rice) and lean on your counter with your chin resting in the palm of your hand. “What are you doing here? Aren’t pro heroes essential workers?”
“Yeah, but I’m part of a big agency. They cut my hours so I only patrol twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I do everything else from home.”
You give him an affirmative hum to show you understand as the rice cooker finally indicates it’s ready by giving out a little chime. Then your brow furrows as his answer truly registers. “Wait, why are you in your uniform? It’s Monday.”
Sero groans, making you turn back to face him and see his annoyed grimace. “I’ve got a Zoom meeting in,” he pauses, glancing up at the kitchen clock, “fifteen minutes and Edgeshot’s kinda a stickler for this stuff. So. Full spandex. Even though I’m not leaving.”
“Comfy.”
“We should have dinner tonight, talk things through,” he says suddenly.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Not like I’m going anywhere.” You both fall silent, nodding slightly before you gesture to the rice cooker beside you. “Want some rice with that apple?”
He glances at the fruit in his hand, a single bite taken out of it, then turns back to you and nods. “Yeah, sure. Sounds like a balanced breakfast.”
Your little snicker in response seems to make him smile as you get out two bowls and serve him half the rice. He gives you a little nod of thanks before turning to retreat back towards his room, though not before you raise two fingers in a lazy salute and say, “Thank you for your service, hero!”
You don’t see his face, but the shaking of his shoulders tells you he’s laughing.
That night over dinner, Sero tells you that his patrols are 5am to 11am on Tuesdays and 9pm to 3am on Thursdays. He assures you he’s only in contact with his patrolling partners, Chargebolt and Vine.
“Cool,” you say when he tells you over dinner that night, attention still on your food before you.
Across the kotatsu, Sero laughs. “I forgot you’re not into the hero thing.”
“Sorry, was I supposed to recognize them?”
“Kaminari—Chargebolt—would take issue with you not knowing him. Shiozaki wouldn’t care. She’s humble like that.” He shoots you a grin. “What about you, though? What’s your quarantine plan?”
You sigh, resisting the urge to flip back in despair at the thought of all your responsibilities suddenly shifting online. “I’ve still got classes, so. Doing those. And I’m tutoring underclassmen, just… through a screen now. I dunno how the hell I’m going to work my internship without a lab but my mentor expects me to do it, so I’ll figure it out.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“Exhausting, more like. But I guess I won’t be starved for social interaction.”
“Well, we’ve got each other, right?”
Sero raises his fist, knuckles toward you, and you laugh lightly as you raise your own to knock against it. “Yeah, guess we do.”
“Your cat joined me for my meeting today, just by the way,” he says as he returns his attention to the food. “He was sleeping in my chair. I think he’s been doing it for a while; he seemed pretty confused when I moved him.”
“That’s where he went? I hunted fifteen minutes for that bastard. I was late to my lecture.”
“Yeah, he was harassing me.”
“Ah, sorry.” You wrinkle your nose. “If it really bothers you I can keep him in my room—“
“No, no, not at all!” He shakes his head frantically. “Don’t do that to the poor guy, if it bothered me I wouldn’t have let you move in with him in the first place.”
“Oh thank god,” you sighed. “I don’t think he’d stay put.”
“He’s a bit of a menace, isn’t he?”
“I think it’s your fault for having good taste in interior design.”
Another laugh; you have the slightest urge to smile at it as he looks at you and says, “What can I say? The chair’s a pussy magnet.”
You choke on your water, bursting into laughter that has you doubled over. It’s so unexpected, catching you entirely by surprise, and it’s all you can do to gasp out, “Never mind, Ryu’s not allowed in your room anymore. You’re a bad influence.”
He lets you calm down with minimal denial of your accusation, the conversation lulling as you two finish up your food. You’re both standing and clearing the dishes when he speaks.
“This was nice. Why don’t we spend more time together?”
“Busy,” you reply easily. “I don’t think it’s either of our faults, really.”
Sero gives a low hum of agreement as he places his dishes in the sink. “Well, we should try to hang out more. You’re fun.”
“I won’t give you much of a choice,” you snicker. “I don’t have two pro heroes to hang out with twice a week. You’re all I’ve got.”
“Alright, consider me forewarned.” He turns to you, holding out a dry towel. “You washing or drying?”
He doesn’t come out for breakfast the next day. You’re kind of disappointed, but you notice that his door is closed and you can hear his voice low through the wood, so you assume he’s on call with someone. You wouldn’t have been able to stay and talk very long anyway, so you eat a quick breakfast and search briefly for Ryu.
When you return to your own room an hour later, his door is still closed. Your cat search was a failure, but you don’t want to repeat your tardiness from yesterday, so you decide to leave your door open as you join your online class—it’s an elective soil microbiology course taught by your favorite professor, and there are only six other students.
Twenty minutes into the call, a knocking on your open door frame makes you look up and pull an earphone out of your ear.
Sero’s standing there, sheepish smile on his face and cat in hand. Ryu has clearly made himself at home in the man’s arms.
“Sorry,” your roommate whispers. “Didn’t know you were on call.”
You shake your head. “I’m muted, it’s just a class.”
He approaches your bed and you twist in your desk chair to watch him set your cat down on the plush surface. Then he turns to you and raises an arm to rub at the back of his neck. “I stole your cat.”
“I can see that.”
“He was apparently in my chair when I shut the door, and by the time I did notice I was already well into the meeting.”
You wrinkle your nose. “I hope he wasn’t too much of a distraction.”
“Nah, he’s an angel. No worries.”
“Ok, well, just don’t make it a habit, catnapper.”
“Wow, calling me names? After I returned him safe and sound? Maybe I should have kept him.”
“Don’t you dare, he’s—“
“Is that Cellophane?”
Your head snaps to your laptop screen, where one of your fellow students has just spoken. Your professor doesn’t even look that annoyed; he’s stopped lecturing to come closer to the screen and take off his glasses for a better look.
“Oh my god, it is!” A different student, saying your name in disbelief. “Are you dating Cellophane?”
“No, he’s just my roommate,” you say, then remember belatedly that you’re muted as Sero approaches your desk from behind.
“Are they talking about me?”
“He’s just my roommate,” you repeat once you’ve turned on the mic. Behind you, Sero grins and gives a little wave to the camera.
The girl who’d initially spoken lets out a wistful sigh. “Lucky. He’s so cool.”
“What are they saying?” Sero asks.
You hesitate, debating whether to ask him to leave or unplug your headphones, but the decision is made for you as your professor claps his hands and calls attention back to him.
“As fascinating as our classmate’s living situation might be, let’s get back to actinomycetes, shall we?”
The class grumbles in agreement, and you turn to face Sero as you tell him, “Professor Watanabe says you’re distracting.”
Sero gives a little pout, causing a chorus of cooing from half the students that you’re kind of glad he can’t hear—you’re a little embarrassed for them, and while you’re sure he’s used to it something tells you he’d be a little embarrassed too—before he finally turns and exits, leaving you to return to your class.
The two of you fall into a routine. You have dinner together, and more often than not lunch and breakfast, too. You’re more than thankful for it; it gives you a reason to get ready before noon. You find yourself disappointed on Tuesdays when he’s gone in the morning, and more often than not after dinner once the dishes are clean the two of you will watch a movie or binge some show.
You find that you like Sero’s company a lot. Conversation always flows smoothly, and even now that you’re cooking and cleaning together he still does his fair share. He’s kind of a terrible movie watcher—you’d never take him to a theater—but you’re the same way and it’s just the two of on your couch so you don’t mind his constant interruptions.
You get into a conversation about high school about a week in, standing side by side at the sink with him elbows deep in soapy water and you with a towel in hand.
“How in the world did you manage to be a stoner living in dorms at the best hero school in the country?” You’re laughing, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Very, very carefully. Lots of edibles, rarely anything that smells. Believe me, the idea of our sensei figuring us out was almost enough to stop us. But then it became a challenge…” Sero chuckles, clearly lost in a memory. “It was always Kaminari’s fault when we almost got caught. He had to be supervised constantly.”
“You’ve known him that long? I never kept in touch with my high school friends. We all went to different unis, so I just… made new ones.”
“Really? Most of my friends were in my class. Shiozaki went to UA, too. She was in class B though, not class A. We’ve all kept pretty close, with a few exceptions.” He pauses, wincing slightly and raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I guess that makes it seem like I never really grew up, huh? But we all went into the same field, and being able to work well together is pretty vital in the industry. Plus, well, all the shit we went through… trauma’s a pretty quick way to become inseparable, I guess.”
“Oh my god.” You pause. You’re so stupid. Did you really not know? “You were in that class A? With like, Deku and Ground Zero? And,” you lift your hand to hold it in front of you, fingers in a claw motion and palm almost on your face, “that villain guy? Shigaraki?”
Sero snickers. “You make it seem like Shigaraki was in our class.”
“I had no idea. Holy shit.”
“I can’t believe you know Bakugo. You don’t know anyone, you barely know the top ten.”
“That’s Ground Zero, right? One of my friends loves him, she won’t shut up about him. Got all kinds of merch. I think he’s kinda a dick, but I guess she’s proof that it works.”
“Nah, he’s just a dick, he’s not doing it for attention. But you’re right, it works. Don’t ask me how.”
You scrunch up your nose, thinking about the photos your friend has shown you. “To be honest I think he just has hot person privilege. Not really my type, personally. Too… aggressive. And big? He’s all,” you puff out your chest, going up on gesturing with your arms like you’re huge and buff like the man you’re talking about, “broad. I like string beans.”
You say it casually, but it hits you once the words come out that the man next to you is a string bean. Shit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re coming on to him. Wouldn’t that make things awkward.
Then there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says if you really weren’t attracted to him you wouldn’t have thought of it.
Sero’s laughter—it’s become so familiar now, you’ve started to expect it around the apartment—breaks your train of thought.
“That’s good. I don’t know what I’d do if you turned out to be a fan of Bakugo, and I’m saying that as one of his closest friends.”
There’s relief in the statement; it seems he’s oblivious to his string bean status. You steal a side-eye glance at him, catching a nice view of his profile as he’s looking down at the sink focused on a bowl. It’s not something you’d have noticed weeks ago, but his undercut is starting to grow out, and his bangs are beginning to hang over his eyes.
Okay, fine. You’ll admit that you think he’s cute—aesthetically, that is. It’s not weird to find a friend hot.
“I never would have guessed you and Ground Zero were close.”
“Yeah, yanno how big groups are, we kinda section off and Bakugo ended up part of mine, along with Kaminari and…” Sero pauses briefly, shaking his head with a smile, “oh, I was gonna go listing off their hero names but I guess you wouldn’t know them.”
“Try me. I have friends.”
“Uh… Red Riot, Earphone Jack, and Alien Queen are the other three. They’re my best friends.”
“Yeah, see, one of my other friends is really into female heroes so I do know two of those. Red Riot sounds familiar but I probably wouldn’t recognize him.”
“Oh really? You’re not just pretending not to care about this hero stuff so I let my guard down and you can kidnap me because you’re an insane fan who’s obsessively in love with me?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it. You’ve found me out, foiled my dastardly plans.” You raise your hand, pressing the back to your forehead and tilting your head upward dramatically.
Sero nudges you with his shoulder playfully, making you break character and laugh with him.
“Okay, fine, you’re not faking it. I’m still a little insulted you didn’t know me, though I guess that’s not surprising. I don’t even have merch yet.”
“Don’t worry.” You return his gesture, bumping him back with your own shoulder. “You’re my favorite hero now.”
“That’s corny.”
“You’re corny.”
“Your mom’s corny.”
You can’t contain your giggles. “That’s your comeback?”
“Better than yours.”
“Not better than your mom last night.”
“Oho!” He raises a hand, flicking water at you. “Getting bold, are we?”
You retaliate with your towel, swatting him lightly on the arm. “You started it!”
The next day, you have a study session with two of your best friends planned over Discord. None of you have the same major (Himari’s studying psychology and Tetsurou is studying physics) but according to Himari it’s important to set aside a time to study, so you call at noon and eat lunch in front of the screen pretending to read your textbook.
Tetsurou’s rambling on about his parents and their insistence of eating dinner together three days a week (and how annoying it is, when he’s the second oldest of six children and they’re all at home along with his grandparents). Himari’s doing a better job of engaging than you are. You’re focused on your ramen.
“And Yua always makes the dog sit at the table with us. Mom’s always like, ‘she’s six, she likes it, just let her,’ and fine okay. But there’s ten of us at the table! The dog is just overkill.”
“I think it’s cute,” Himari says through a bite of rice. “As long as she doesn’t feed the dog.”
“She doesn’t. She just pets him. He sits at her feet anyway when we finally convince her to let him leave—hoping for scraps, I’m sure, but dad’s careful.”
“That’s good.” Himari frowns, raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you drop something?”
“No, it’s just,” you turn around briefly, glancing at your bed to find it empty, “Ryu’s usually in my room for lunch, I don’t know where he is.”
“Did you check under your ramen?”
You’re lifting your bowl before Tetsurou’s words fully register. By the time they sink in, he’s already cackling and you’re glaring at him through the screen. “I’m gonna kill you, fucker. Can’t believe I fell for that.”
“You really checked!”
“Fuck you! I’m looking for my cat, asswipe, that wasn’t an invitation for you to—“
A knock at your door frame draws your attention. Sero’s standing there, both arms braced above the entrance and Ryu perched happily over his shoulders. You’re not sure when your cat grew close enough to him to do that, but there’s a little tingly feeling that you get when you see it.
“We interrupting something?”
Your face is hot as you go to mute your friends, but before you can press the button Himari squeals.
“Is that Sero?”
Your head snaps back to your laptop to glare at her. “Who else would it be, Mari?”
“You know she only said that to get his attention,” Tetsurou snarks. He’s grinning though; used to your mutual hero-crazed friend.
Himari doesn’t acknowledge his jab, primarily because Sero has stepped into your room to squat right next to your chair, Ryu still on his shoulders. He’s so close to your arm that you can feel goosebumps forming. It’s distracting; your attention doesn’t stray from the thought that he’s millimeters away from touching you until Himari says your name.
“…never let us visit,” she was saying, lip sticking outward in an exaggerated pout. “I kept saying, well, what’s the point of a hero roommate if you don’t let your friends meet him?”
“Generally speaking, the point of a roommate is to help pay bills,” you answer matter-of-factly.
“It’s okay, I forgive you, ‘cause I get to talk to him now.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” you drawl, “I don’t know how I’d live with myself otherwise.”
“It’s nice to meet you two,” Sero says. “I was starting to think my roommate was lying about having friends.”
“Hey!”
Tetsurou smirks, sitting up straight. You swear the man only looks happy when he has a chance to pick on your or Himari. “That’s a reasonable assumption, we’re the only one’s they’ve got.”
“Wow! This is bullying. I can’t believe you’re ganging up on me.”
“You should be used to it.” Tetsurou shrugs.
“Saying I have no friends, telling me to look under my ramen bowl for my cat… I don’t know why I waste time on you, dickhead.”
“Oh wait, you were yelling at him when I came in?” Sero looks up at you for confirmation, then turns back to the screen. “I was gonna ask who I needed to beat up.”
Tetsurou opens his mouth, then closes it quickly, pulling a face before talking. “I’d say square up but it’s occurred to me that you’re a pro hero and I have at least a little self preservation, so, I’ll say I did nothing wrong and I’ve been framed.”
“You took advantage of me,” you accused.
“Well, you looked anyway and that’s your fault.”
Himari gasps, voice scandalized as she speaks. “Tetsu, we don’t victim blame in this house!”
“I’m not in your house,” he counters.
“Sounds like I do need to beat you up, then, for my dear roommate’s dignity,” Sero cuts in. “Can’t have someone going around tricking people into looking under their ramen bowls for cats. That’s villainous behavior.”
“You’re the one who stole my cat, though,” you point out. “So really, whose fault is it?”
Sero gasps now, turning to you. “I can’t believe this accusation. After I brought him back? After I went to war for you?”
“I never asked you to.”
“Fine.” He stands, keeping your cat on his shoulders. “I’m taking Ryu, then.”
“What? No, he’s my cat!”
“I’m confiscating him. Mine now.” He turns to leave and you jump up from your chair.
“Sero!” you whine. “Catnapper! What kind of a hero are you!”
“I’ll have you know I’m a very—ack!”
Ryu jumps off of him suddenly, making a beeline for your bed. Sero stumbles back at the unexpected abandonment, falling flat on his ass and left dazed while you keel over in laughter.
You almost feel bad, but then he’s laughing too and when you gasp out, “are you okay?” he responds with an affirmative.
He takes your hand when you hold it out to him. He’s heavier than you expect, but you manage to help him up, and you're a little bit sad when he leaves, closing your door behind him now that the cat has been returned.
Once he’s gone, though, you remember that you’re on call with your friends.
“We should probably get started,” you say, sitting back down in the chair. Tetsurou and Himari don’t respond; when you look up, they’re both staring at you with expressions of people who know something. “What?”
Tetsurou shakes his head, looking down at his textbook. “Nothing.”
“Not important,” Himari dismisses.
Days later, on a Thursday morning, you’re sitting eating breakfast when Sero places a tape dispenser in front of you.
You frown when you see it, looking up at him about to ask him where he got it, but he speaks before you can. “Left the container out on the balcony for two days, got it on Tuesday. You said you needed tape.”
You did; your disposable one had run out during your study session and you mentioned you’d buy some online at dinner that night.
Upon closer inspection, though, you notice that the tape dispenser isn’t disposable. And it’s… the same color yellow as his hero costume, with white and black zig-zag accents.
“It’s…”
“Merch? Your merch? You bought me a Cellophane tape dispenser?” Then you remember that he’d told you he didn’t have any merch yet, and suddenly the proud smile on his face makes sense. “Oh my god, you bought me a Cellophane tape dispenser!”
“There we go, that’s what I was looking for! But I didn’t buy it. It’s still unreleased, but they gave me some stuff early ‘cause it’s, yanno, mine. And that’s really cool.”
“Dude, that’s so cool!” You jump up, throwing your arms around him in a hug. “Congrats! This is awesome!”
He’s stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting the hug, but he doesn’t refuse it. Instead, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you around in a clumsy circle that makes you yelp with surprise and joy.
When he sets you down, he turns back briefly to pull out a microfiber blanket. It’s high quality; thick stripes of white, black, and that familiar yellow zig-zagging across the fabric, and his hero name in the center, backed by the agency’s logo.
“This is also for you. Well, Ryu, probably, but you.”
You take it giddily, feeling how soft it is with wonder. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“I have, uh, something else too? But if you don’t want it that’s okay.”
You furrow your brow, stepping over to the table to drop the blanket near the tape dispenser (the irony in that hitting you, suddenly, and making you hold back laughter wondering whose idea that was and hoping they got a raise). “Why wouldn’t I?”
By the time you turn around, he’s holding up a hoodie. It’s just black, with thin rings of white and yellow on both arms—subtle, as hero merch goes. You’d feel comfortable wearing it outside, if you could.
“Well, uh, the other things are new? But I’ve kind of had this one for a few months now, and I got a newer version with this latest batch. If you want that one that’s fine! But it’s got my hero name and the agency logo like the blanket and I figured this one was more your speed. I washed it! A bunch! Obviously! I wouldn’t give you a dirty hoodie or whatever and gosh this was a bad idea I should have just left it with the blanket and the tape dispenser—“
He cuts himself off when you laugh, looking up to meet you with the cutest puppy-dog eyes and hell, if you’d intended to say no (which you hadn’t been) that would have convinced you.
“Of course I want it. You’re my favorite hero, after all.”
You could swear he turns a little bit pink, but when he’s smiling so wide it’s hard to tell.
Sero has patrol that night, but the Friday afterwards you wear the hoodie to watch a movie with him.
It’s some action flick. You don’t really pay much attention to the actual plot—no more than it takes to harp on it with him, anyway—and you sit tucked into one corner of the couch with your feet tucked under you. He’s on the other side, head propped in his hand.
An hour into the movie, you two have migrated a little closer. Your legs are draped over his lap, he’s leaning so his head is braced on the back of the couch near yours. You think it might be a little uncomfortable for him, but he assures you that he’s fine.
You’re awoken in the middle of the night by the TV finally switching off. You’re barely aware of the time; the room is pitch black, so presumably the middle of the night. It takes a moment, but slowly your sleepy mind registers your surroundings. You’re laying on the couch, half on top of Sero, head resting on his arm which is wrapped around your shoulders. There’s a blanket thrown lazily over the two of you.
If you were slightly more awake, you’d likely have had the awareness to get up and move to your own bed. But when you turn your body just slightly, the arm around your shoulders tightens, and Sero…
He fucking nuzzles into you, buries his face into your hair. He’s still asleep, clearly, but in your foggy, half-awake state it’s still enough to stop you in your tracks. You can just… stay, right? It’s so nice, all warm and cozy—there’s no real reason to leave, right?
You let yourself go back to sleep in his arms.
In the morning, you’re not really sure if it was real or a dream. You wake up in your own bed, still dressed in the hoodie he’d given you. You don’t mention it to him when you run into him in the kitchen, and he doesn’t, either. So you don’t talk about it.
You’re on call with your friends when Himari notices the tape dispenser.
“Is that—“ she cuts herself off with a laugh, grinning like she’s won the lottery. “Is that a Cellophane brand tape dispenser?”
“Hmm?” You look down to see the very item on your desk, just barely visible in the corner of your video. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sero gave it to me ‘cause I ran out of my disposable one.”
“I thought Cellophane didn’t have any merch,” Tetsurou muses, leaning backward in his chair. Clearly not particularly engaged with the conversation, but not complaining about a distraction, he crumples up a piece of paper into a ball, lazily tossing it over his face and catching it as it falls back down only to repeat the motion.
“Apparently his agency’s about to release a line for their more popular sidekicks. That’s what he told me, anyway.” You pause, pursing your lips. “Actually, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Whoops.”
“A tape dispenser feels a little on the nose for Cellophane.” Himari giggles. “Is it his tape?”
“It’s definitely not his tape.”
“Pity.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes with slight amusement. “You hero fans are weird, yanno that?”
“Hey, you’re the one with pre-released merch.”
“They were gifts! It’s not like he’s gonna use a tape dispenser when he’s literally got two of them in his elbows.”
“Gifts plural?” You silently curse Tetsurou’s attention to detail. “He gave you two tape dispensers? You use that much tape?”
“Tetsu, stop being pedantic.”
“I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.” Tetsurou finally stops playing with his makeshift ball, letting it hit his face and fall to the floor as he sits up and leans forward. “And I’m very sure you’re trying to change the topic. Did he give you two tape dispensers?”
“No, he gave me, uh,” you pause and leave your chair to pick up a small microfiber blanket off your bed, “this. Ryu really likes sleeping on it.”
“Looks soft.”
“It is. He gave me a hoodie, too.”
Himari gasps when you say that, bringing her hands to her mouth in excitement as she squeals and causes both you and Tetsurou to wince.
“He’s marking his territory,” she says in a stage whisper, leaning in towards her computer.
You roll your eyes. “From who? I’m stuck inside, Mari. Besides, he’s not an animal.”
“You’re missing a pretty big rebuttal there, though I can’t blame you when you’re all the way in Egypt,” Tetsurou says with a lopsided smirk. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you like the idea of being his.”
“I don’t wanna be his territory, thank you,” you drawl, then pause, brow crinkling as the sudden nickname sinks in. “Egypt? The hell did that come from?”
“Yeah. Egypt. 8 meters underwater in da Nile,” he replies immediately, raising his hands to shoot finger guns at you.
“You’re a wordplay savant. Truly, I’ve never witnessed such mastery. I tremble before your puns.”
“Okay, jeez, I get it. No need for the snark.”
“He’s just being nice, because he’s a fucking hero and it’s his job to do nice things.”
”I think that’s a bit of a simplification,” Tetsurou laughs. “But you do have a point.”
“Do you like the hoodie?” Himari asks.
You toss your shoulders, successfully resisting the urge to dart your eyes towards where the very thing is hanging off your desk.
“It’s a little big,” you decide on saying. You don’t mention that it’s big because it’s technically his. “Really soft, though. And subtle. I don’t think most people would realize it’s merch.”
“That’s so cool,” Himari sighs. “I wish I had a hunky pro hero roommate to give me branded hoodies.”
“He’s not hunky.” You wrinkle your nose. “Too lanky for that.”
“You don’t think he’s hot?” Tetsurou raises an eyebrow.
You shoot him a look. “I have eyes.”
“Is that supposed to mean ‘he’s objectively the sexiest person alive and that’s why I want to kiss him senseless’ because I think you’re just making excuses.”
“You’re so lucky we’re not speaking in person, Tetsu, because I want to hit you really, really badly right now.”
“I think he is objectively attractive,” Himari pipes up. “But like… in a boy next door kinda way. I like his colleague better, Chargebolt? Kamui Woods too, he’s got that mysterious professional energy that’s really alluring. Ooooo Sero knows Red Riot, doesn’t he? He’s my favorite hero right now. That’s a hunky pro hero. You know he’s over two meters tall?”
“I thought Ground Zero was your favorite hero.” Tetsurou quirks an eyebrow.
“I got tired of him, he’s kind of one-note. Red Riot’s so nice, he rescued a cat the other day.”
“Yeah, that sounds like essential work to me.” You giggle at Tetsurou’s remark, earning a wink from him and a glare from Himari.
“You can tell us all about hunky two-meter-tall Red Riot over the group chat, Mari.” You say, finally. “We should get back to work.”
“He’s over two meters tall!”
“Work!”
The next day, not even an hour after Sero leaves for his patrol, you get a FaceTime call from his contact.
You answer, slightly confused and more than a little worried—he rarely calls you, unless he’s stopping for groceries and needs a list—but it’s not Sero you find on the other side.
It’s a blonde man, around the same age as you, with a black lightning bolt in his hair.
“Whoa!” he exclaims when you answer. “Damnit, you are cute!”
“Huh?”
“Kaminari!” There’s a voice in the background that is unmistakably Sero, faint but clearly annoyed. “Give me back my phone!”
Ah. Kaminari. Chargebolt. You should probably have known that already.
“Aw, c’mon! I just wanted to see your roommate!” Kaminari turns back to the phone, winking at you. “He talks about you so much I wanted to see for myself if he had good taste. And he does. I approve of your canoodling now.”
“Did you just say canoodling?” Sero sounds almost affronted by the term. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Canoodling!” Kaminari repeats, louder and clearly to Sero as he looks somewhere off screen. “Snuggling together on the couch! Falling asleep on each other’s arms! Unfair. Seriously, the universe picks favorites and gives you a cute roommate to-ack!”
You’re not sure what exactly hits Kaminari, but the phone is tumbling out of his hands before he can finish his sentence and subsequently caught by what you assume to be Sero’s tape, because suddenly his face is on the screen.
“I’m so sorry about him, please just ignore this—Denki!”
The blonde is making kissing noises despite no longer being seen, and when Sero shouts his name he shouts, “Wear his hoodie more often! He likes seeing you—“
You see Sero shoot his tape this time, but you don’t see it hit it’s mark. You can hear that it’s covering Kaminari’s mouth, though, because he’s suddenly muffled and struggling.
Sero turns back to the phone, face bright pink and a nervous smile on his face. “Uh. Sorry. Really. I’ll get groceries on my way home.”
And with that, he hangs up, leaving you more than a little bit confused and flustered.
You don’t mention it when he gets home, nor while you two are putting away groceries. Dinner conversation flows without touching on the topic, either. It’s not until you’re halfway through washing dishes that you finally say, “So, canoodling?”
Sero groans, letting his hands fall into the soapy water. “I was hoping you’d forget.”
“Forget? Never. Is Kaminari always like that?”
“Meddlesome and loud?” Sero grumbles. “Yeah. To be fair, I usually join in when he’s doing it to someone else. This is karma, I guess.”
“He said you talk about me a lot,” you point out smugly. “Do you?”
“I guess. I mean, you’re kind of the only exciting thing in my life right now.”
You’re not sure how to feel about that statement. Exciting is good, right? But default isn’t really… ideal. You decide to play it off.
“Damn straight I’m exciting. I’m sure your hero pals loved it when you told them all about my project on mycelium.”
“Shiozaki did like that, actually.” Sero glances over at you. “Don’t sell yourself short, though. Your cat stole my sock the other day.”
“That’s your fault. You should hide them better.”
“He dug it out of my closed sock drawer!”
“You told me you wanted dual custody, but when he steals your sock he’s suddenly my cat?” You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re his father, you should parent, too.”
“Don’t put this on me, you raised him.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault? Don’t let him in your room then, catnapper.”
“I was his father a second ago, suddenly I’m a catnapper? Wow.”
“Yes, you said he was my cat so you’re not his father anymore.” Sero doesn’t respond, and you turn towards him as you put the last dish away. “What, no retaliation?”
He retaliates all right—by dipping his hands in the sink of clean water and flicking droplets on you.
“Wow. Very mature.” You’re smiling as you cup your own hand into the suds and blow a good pile of them towards him.
Sero sputters as they land, batting his hands in front of his face. “Oh, it’s on.”
Your kitchen ends up far messier than when you’d started doing the dishes. Your clothes are soaked—somewhere along the line Sero pulled out the hose faucet and absolutely drenched you. He’s not faring much better, though, because you’d wrestled it out of his grip and given him the same treatment. You’re both grinning like madmen, laughing cheerily despite how wet you are.
You decide to make a last-ditch escape attempt, darting for the kitchen’s entrance around Sero. He catches you, though (it’s almost like he’s a pro hero), wrapping arms around your waist and pulling you back as you let out a shriek that’s full of laughter.
The action makes both of you tumble over. He cushions your fall, making you land right in his lap instead of the hard tile. You’re basically leaning your head in his neck as you laugh so hard tears form in your eyes. He’s laughing, too; his shoulders and torso shaking as he keeps his arms around you and holds you close.
You separate eventually (though, admittedly, far after it would be considered platonic, if such a position could be platonic at all) and go off to get ready for bed. You feel warm and fuzzy as you sleep, though; the conversation with Kaminari not quite forgotten but quelled in some unknown way.
The next day, you talk to your friends about the events, getting vague I-know-something-you-don’t answers from both and a kind of pitying, condescending look that you very much don’t like from Himari.
Still, you apparently don’t ask the right questions (or, admittedly, turn them away from helping you by being stand-offish and changing the topic) because you leave the call feeling more conflicted than you started it.
Thursday goes as normal, until Sero leaves.
You can’t sleep. It’s eleven, then midnight, one, two—three o’clock in the morning and you’re just laying in bed. You hear the door open, hear Sero enter and speak baby-talk to Ryu and then, eventually, you hear the water turn on in the shower.
That’s when you pull on his hoodie (yours, really, but it’s your Sero hoodie) and venture out to stand in the kitchen instead.
Sero finds you there, in front of the sink.
“What are you doing up? It’s late.”
Waiting for him, you realize then. It hits you like a sack of bricks to the head, the fact that you hadn’t been able to sleep because you’d been worried about him, and that you’d left your room so that you’d run into him.
“Can’t sleep,” you settle on telling him.
He stands there for a moment, regarding you, hair still wet from his shower and presumably only just having gotten in pajamas. You’re in your own—you’ve been ready for bed for hours, since just after he’d left for his shift.
“C’mere,” he says finally, reaching forward to take your hand, firm yet gentle. “Let’s watch a movie.”
He leads you to the couch. Your hand tingles where he’s holding it. You pick out an inane documentary, half hoping it’ll bore you to sleep, but you know it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s back, so your insomnia is cured.
You’re not sure how you end up tucked into his shoulder—maybe he’d placed you there at the start, maybe you’d migrated—but your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing begins to steady as a soothing voice drones on about native birds. You find yourself resting your head on Sero’s chest, his arm over your shoulders and hand finding home on your waist as you drift off.
You dream about kissing him.
It’s kind of ridiculous. Stupid, cheesy, exactly the kind of thing he’d do in real life. He doesn’t talk, neither of you say a word, but you’re standing at the entrance to your apartment building and he’s dangling upside down using his quirk. His grinning face is right in front of yours, eyes locked on you.
It feels natural to reach forward and cradle his jaw—as natural as it can feel when the jaw you’re cradling is upside down—and it’s just as natural when you lean in to connect your lips with his. It’s nothing heavy, no tongue or anything, just soft and sweet and reassuring like him. Your other hand comes to his nape, thumb rubbing over the buzzed part of his hair while your four other fingers thread through longer strands. His free hand—the one not attached to the elbow keeping him from falling—comes to the back of your head to hold you closer.
You pull away just as casually as you moved in, like you have all the time in the world and infinite kisses to savor. When you look at his face, his eyes are still closed, and his smile has become close-mouthed. His expression is blissful.
You wake up in your bed.
The sun has risen. Ryu’s sleeping on your bed, curled up pressed into your leg. Your heart is pounding in your chest.
You raise a hand to your lips. It almost feels like you can still taste the dream kiss. You’re still in the hoodie—it’s been weeks, but pulling the hood up to your nose you can still just barely smell him. Wasting no time, you turn to your bedside table and start a call.
Tetsurou answers bleary-eyed, voice hoarse with sleep. “The fuck is this? It’s too early.”
“It’s nine in the morning.”
“Too early,” he repeats, still not quite in frame and holding his phone way too close. “What do you want? I gave you my notes last night, didn’t you get the email?”
“It’s not about school.”
Tetsurou groans out your name. The screen shakes as he presumably sits up in his bed, forcing you to look away to avoid getting motion sick. “Why are you calling me before noon if it’s not a goddamn academic emergency?”
“Tetsu, please, I need advice and Mari’s too much of a romantic to be practical.”
“So you’re calling me?”
“I mean you’re my closest friend alongside her.”
“Fine.” He sighs, finally seeming to get into a good position as his face comes properly into view. “Lay it on me.”
Well, you’d hoped you wouldn’t have to tell him. Saying it aloud is harder than you thought it’d be. That‘s the point of calling Tetsurou, isn’t it? Because he knows already? Hasn’t he been teasing you for weeks? And yet he has yet to pick up on why you’re calling him.
So, you steel yourself, and blurt out the confession in one frantic breath. “I dreamed about kissing Sero and it was really nice and I think you’re right I wanna kiss him for real like a lot please help.”
Clearly he’s not fully awake, because it takes a good few seconds for him to register the words, and you spend them holding your breath waiting for his inevitable wisecrack.
When he finally speaks, though, he’s genuinely serious. “What… help do you want?”
That throws you for a loop. “Huh?”
“I mean, do you want me to help you get over him? Or do you want me to help you make a move?”
You open your mouth to respond, then close it with a clack, cocking your head and glancing away from the phone.
“You don’t know.”
“I guess I need help figuring out how I want help.”
“I mean… okay. Let’s try this. Why do you want to kiss him? What do you like about him? You think he’s hot?”
“I mean, I have eyes so yeah I think he’s hot. He’s easy to talk to, and he has this… contagious laugh and he’s always smiling at me.” You pause, then keep talking, the words coming easily the more you think about it. “He’s really nice, too—I see him trying to help people as much as he can from six feet away whenever he comes home. I like spending time with him, and I think he likes spending time with me, too, but maybe it’s just cause he’s got no other choice. I check his room for Ryu every day even when I know the damn cat’s not there, just so I can talk to him, and I’ve worn his hoodie pretty much constantly since he gave it to me because it smells like him. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch with him like twice now and it’s probably the best I’ve slept in a while. We got into this silly water fight thing while washing dishes two days ago and he grabbed me by the waist and I swear I almost fainted from blushing so hard…”
You stop, realizing you’re rambling, but Tetsurou’s just looking at you with one eyebrow raised.
“Damn. You have it bad.”
You throw your head back against your pillow, staring up at your ceiling feeling very foolish. “Yeah. I do. He’s just so… yanno?”
“Not really, but that doesn’t matter.” Tetsurou pauses, waiting for you to sit back up and look at him. “So. New question. What do you want to do about it?”
“I dunno?”
Your friend rolls his eyes. “Do you want to date him?”
You’re about to repeat yourself, I dunno right on the tip of your tongue, but you sigh instead. Fine. You’ll accept it.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”
“Okay. Cool. Kiss him.”
“What?” you shriek.
Tetsurou winces, raising a finger to his lips. “Jeez, you’re gonna make my mom come in. You heard me. Kiss him. Just go up to him and lay one right on his lips.”
“Tetsu, I’m not going to—“
“You‘re wearing his branded hoodie,” he interrupted you. “He grabbed your waist while you had a water fight doing the dishes. Yanno what that’s called? Flirting. You do it every time he shows up when I’m on call with you, too. He’s into you. Kiss him. He’ll like it.”
“I don’t know...” You wrinkle your nose.
Tetsurou says your name sternly—it’s uncharacteristically sober, and it kind of freaks you out. “I remember you telling me his friend called you with his phone and teased him about falling asleep with you. What’d he call it? Canoodling? And said Sero wouldn’t shut up about you? He’s annoying his friends talking about you so much—he’s into you. Make a move. That’s not a suggestion, it’s an order.”
“Tetsu, if you’re wrong, it’s gonna make everything awkward. I can’t just walk out there and kiss him.”
“Sure you can! The only reason he hasn’t done it himself is he doesn’t wanna make it awkward, either. I’ve seen the way you interact, okay? It’s borderline painful.”
You should have called Himari. It’d have been easy to write her off as wishful, vicarious thinking. Tetsurou’s never been one to mince words, though. He’s a scientist to the core; one who requires empirical evidence to be convinced of anything. If he’s so certain, the evidence must be overwhelming.
“I’m being serious.” Your attention snaps back to your phone. The look on Tetsurou’s face tells you he knows he’s got you. “Go out there and kiss him. Do it. Now.”
“Fine!” you burst. “Fine, then!”
You don’t even hang up on him, throwing your phone to the side on your bed and leaping to your feet. Ryu makes an annoyed sound, but he stays on as you storm out of your room.
You pass by Sero’s open door, but he’s not in his bedroom. He’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in one hand and scrolling through his phone in the other.
Seeing him makes you screech to a halt, metaphorically speaking. He looks up as you come to a stop in front of him, smiling at the sight of you but quirking an eyebrow when you take a step closer.
“Good morning,” he greets. “Sleep well?”
You’re at a loss for words. Tetsu made it sound so easy. Just lay one on him. But here you are, standing in front of Sero, close enough to do it, and his gaze is holding you captive. You can’t move.
Sero opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, rushed and shaky and terrified. “Close your eyes.”
“Huh?”
“Close your eyes,” you repeat, only slightly slower and steadier.
He does it, a faint smile lighting up his face that brings your attention to his mouth. Again, he opens it to say something—probably to ask him what the hell you’re doing—and again you interrupt him before he can speak.
This time, though, it’s by pressing your lips to his.
It’s brief—just a peck, but he doesn’t react immediately, and you’re scared off. Terror strikes your heart as you pull back just as quickly as you closed the gap.
You don’t have time to apologize. He lunges forward, catching you with a hand at the small of your back and pulling you back to him as he kisses you again.
It’s longer this time. He holds you close, his other hand coming to hold you with slender fingers on the base of your neck and palm covering your jaw. Your own hands fly up to his hair, threading through it the way you’ve literally dreamed of as your eyes close and you melt into him.
When you part a second time, it’s not very far, still pressed chest-to-chest. Sero rests his forehead against yours. Your dream didn’t do that blissful look justice—the one he’s giving you now, as he finally opens his eyes, is better than you ever could have imagined.
You try to speak, but he kisses you again, quickly and sweetly and stealing the words you intended to say from your breath. It leaves you bewildered, and he only laughs.
“There. Now we’re even. You didn’t even let me respond the first time.”
Your whole body is buzzing with giddy excitement. You feel like you can’t catch your breath, but in an incredible way that leaves you floating. You’re leaning in before you can stop yourself, pressing a series of fairy-light kisses across the bridge of his nose. By the time he opens his eyes again you’re speaking, still breathless but in a good, happy way this time.
“Date me.”
“That’s pretty bold.”
“Sero,” you whine.
“Okay!” Sero lets out a burst of laughter, bundling you into his arms and swinging the two of you around in a circle. “I will. Of course I will.”
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