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daisiescomelate · 5 months

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On the rocks

Prompt: pro hero Dynamight finally gets back to his apartment after a long day of work to find the head of the League of Villains drunk and sleeping all over his couch— again.

Content: Katsuki Bakugou/Izuku Midoriya, prohero!Dynamight, villain!Deku, drunk talk, drunk flirting, 4.8k words.

Note: prompt from @/book0bsessedd on tiktok.

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Twelve hours of patrol, two assholes that thought themself smarter than the police and one cat getting somewhere where it definitely shouldn't be– later, Katsuki finally arrived at his apartment after a long day of work.

It was close to three in the morning, and there was no amount of caffeine that could keep him up any longer. He was considering skipping his usual shower. It would be blissful if he could scrap out the dirt out of his body, but did he have the strength to stand under the water for a hellful amount of fifteen more minutes? He felt bruised, his palms were itchy, and his leg's muscles kept twitching under his skin begging for some rest.

He took his keys from his pocket and put it on the keyhole, turning it carefully. He tried being as quiet as possible as to not trigger the granny that lived beside him and get yet another complaint from the landlord. That old hag had the hearing of a fucking dog at age of a hundread and something, and was in the top five of Katsuki's pains in the ass.

The door clicked as it unlocked, and he pushed it open slowly, might not the creaking of the door bother the queen of Tower Two.

Once inside, he slipped the strap of his bag with his hero costume out of his shoulder and dropped it on the floor with a thud. The dim blue lights of the bright advertisement screens from the buildings of central Tokyo were enough for Katsuki's tired eyes to see inside the apartment so as to not bump with anything in the dark. Taking into account the threat of the headache that haunted his temples, he decided not to turn on any of the lamps on his way to the bathroom down the hall.

After quickly attending to nature and washing up his hands and face, and the sweat that sticked to the back of his neck, he lazily walked to the living room area ahead. Making dinner this tired was off the table, but he definitely was in need of something to drink. He scratched his hair, fighting the weight of his eyelids as he moved in direction to the kitchen area when something on the edge of his vision called his attention.

Katsuki's instincts kicked in. He froze mid step, turning his head to the right, looking for the source of the movement. Most of the apartment was still immersed in shadows. His body tensed, setting ready for a fight, but he stood still and listened. The movement had come from the living room. Katsuki’s position right behind the edge of the hall was a safe enough blind spot away from the light, if the intruder was not alerted by Katsuki’s sounds while coming in he might have a chance to catch them off guard.

A noise followed, a soft bump against the floor. Katsuki frowned at the idea of a poor bastard showing up to rob a hero’s house, unaware of that hero’s foul mood to top. A ruffle and a louder bump, and this robber already felt like too much of a new baby.

An idea rushed through Katsuki’s tired brain. He pictured a white ball of fluff and cursed internally. There was a neighbor's cat that had the habit of hopping around the building's balconies. Was that thing still willing to mess with him? No matter how hard he tried to spook the thing away, it kept showing up at his apartment as if it owned the place. Katsuki’s eye twitched at the idea of spending the next few days trying to get rid of coats of white fur off his furniture. Again.

It better be someone that’s after the television.

Katsuki made sure to stay in the shadows. He approached in silence, with eyes wide open, actively trying to discern the shapes across the room. He made his way towards the TV area with the couches, the small table and his CD collection.

One.

Step.

At a.

Time.

He was an arm away from the sofa, raising a hand into the air, ready to blow away whoever had decided to intrude in his apartment –cat included. Then he was close enough to stretch his neck up and look over the back of the couch, but before he was able to…

"Mmm." Someone moaned.

And Katsuki knew exactly who it was.

"Son of a bitch." He cursed, secretive be damned.

He lowered his hand. His quiet steps became loud, angry stumps on the wooden floor. He marched around the couch to see the man in a black suit spreading along the cushions with his head resting on the arm of the sofa and one hand falling off the edge holding onto a bottle of whisky.

"Wake the fuck up." He commanded with a stern voice.

The drunkard mumbled some incoherent bullcrap and ignored him.

Katsuki greeted his teeth. He grabbed the sleeping man by the collar with his fist, and pulled him up an inch away from his face. He did so with enough strength and violence as to wake the man out of his stupor and make him open his eyes wide with surprise. Katsuki then spat his next words with murderous intent,

"I SAID. WAKE. UP."

He used the hold he had on the man to pull him off his furniture and into the floor.

The man cried a short scream of pain as his head hit against a low table. The vase and the books that were piled on top of it fell into the floor.

The intruder lifted his hand to hold the top of his head, patting around to look for blood where he received the blow.

"Kacchan, so mean...", the man whined.

"Get the hell out of my house." Katsuki had both hands pressed into fits to his side with knuckles going white and a vein pulsing on his neck. He used all his strength to prevent himself from screaming again.

Probably the old hag was already up. Fuck.

The man sat on his knees on the floor with difficulty, his back facing Katsuki. His shoulders moved under the black silk vest as if they were sour after the landing. The smell of liquor distilled from him and filled the apartment after being swung in the air like that. It stinged at Katsuki's nose and only made his anger grow further. Slim figure on black and white, the man did move and stretched with the smooth motions Katsuki could relate to a cat’s. The way he took his time, slow and uncaring, spoke of his arrogance.

The man looked to the side, his profile just an inch away from the light.

"We haven't seen each other in so long Kacchan, I missed you." The man's smooth voice claimed.

"You pulled out this shit two weeks ago. Get out."

Katsuki looked back at the couch and saw the man’s jacket at the foot of it. He picked it up and threw it over his face. It fell over the man’s head. He immediately pulled it off and let it fall over his lap. His silhouette pulled up a hand to his face, and traced down over his neck and chest. When he seemed to have completed the look for external injuries at Katsuki's manhandling, he turned his whole body to face him.

The colored lights from the streets illuminated the freckled face and the hollowed green eyes that look so out of place on the innocent looking features. This same face replicated on news broadcasts weekly and stared the front page of newspapers even more often, never followed by flattering words.

Deku. Number One on Japan's list of most wanted criminals, leader of 'The League' and most dangerous villain since the downfall of All For One.

And Katsuki's prime pain in the ass.

"No." The head of the list of the most wanted criminals answered with a pout.

Katsuki shook with rage. He stomped to be in front of him and picked him up by the neck again. The drunk shrieked, holding Katsuki's wrist with both hands and looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Don't throw me again Kacchan! It hurts!"

Katsuki held him higher, lifting the man's weight from his feet. He threw daggers at the guy's pathetic cry of mercy, and used his other hand to pat over his clothes.

He traced over the man’s vest and pants, pressing and sliding his palms over the soft material. The clothes were cold to the touch, and their price could be felt on the tip of the fingers. The man twitched and tightened his grip on Katsuki’s wrist. Katsuki moved his hands from his waist up to the side of his ribs and the man arched his back at the contact.

"Ah, Kacchan.” A soft whimper. “What are you doing?" His voice made Katsuki's hand ache with the need to punch him in the face.

If the room were bright enough and he got to see a blush on the man’s face at this exact moment there would be no God he could pray to that could save him from Katsuki splitting his skull open.

"Shut up." He cut him, but it didn't stop the despicable man from wiggling and starting breathing at a weird pace.

"Kacchan—" he called as Katsuki found what he was looking for on one of the pockets of his vest. He took the phone out and let go of the grip of his hand, making the man fall flat into the carpet at his feet.

"Oh..." he complained.

Katsuki ignored him. He walked away from Deku to get closer to the window. He noticed the lock was broken.

Asshole, always messing with my shit. How many locks will I have to replace before you fucking die.

Katsuki thought of looking for the man’s wallet —the one he had felt in his back pocket-– and take what at this point was rightfully his. But before doing that, there was something else he had to get done. He held Deku's phone with both hands and typed the password to unlock it.

As the screen saver popped off he heard the guy’s voice calling him from behind.

"Kacchan, I did miss you but I also came to tell you some good news." Deku dragged his words and tried to push himself to stand out, but if the deaf noise was any indication of anything, it wasn't working for him. Katsuki didn't bother to look in his direction.

He scrolled across the menu and opened the contact list, looking for a particular name. He found it and typed a short message before hitting 'send'.

Pick me up at XX and XX street.

2:47 a.m.

Deku cursed under his breath as he struggled to get up, pushing Katsuki’s table out of the way. The vase that had fallen to the floor rolled to the other side of the room and hit the wall.

The phone dinged and lit up when less than three seconds later came the reply, followed by another three in quick succession.

Dabi

you are going to get us in so much shit one day for going to see that damn hero all the damn time

i swear to god

i'm going to start a fucking strike

i'm on my fucking way.

2:48 a.m.

Katsuki blocked the phone again and turned around to see Deku ultimately getting onto his feet. The guy lifted his head and Katsuki could tell how drunk he was by the way his eyes shined glossy.

"I don't want to hear any news from you." Katsuki replied.

He crossed back the distance that separated them, pulled the neck of the vest making the drunk’s stand wobble, and forced the phone back into his pocket. As he was taking his hand away, it was suddenly grabbed. Hard. Deku held Katsuki's hand with bone breaking strength and moved it to keep it close to his heart.

Katsuki held his features in place not to show how much it actually hurt.

Deku reclined closer to Katsuki's face, moved his other hand to cup one of his cheeks and whispered sweetly to him,

"I got rid of that gang that was bothering you so much."

Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek. The gush of fear running down his back and into the pit of his stomach was an acid warning to be aware around the switch that turned this person into what they actually were. A reminder. This person was dangerous.

He shouldn't be surprised. He knew what gang he was talking about, a bunch of losers that had started a home business of quirk trading. Tracking, kidnapping, and selling people whose quirks could be of interest to creeps all over the country.

"They really had some nasty stuff going on, Kacchan. I'm glad you didn't have to get involved." Deku said.

There was no point in asking how he knew about the case the agency and the federal police had asked him to help with. Katsuki was long used to this guy knowing not much, but everything when it came to him.

"You're not gonna ask me about how I did it, Kacchan~?" Deku sang. His feet wavered and he had to rethink his stand so as not to fall over the carpet again. The motion got him an inch closer to Katsuki’s face.

"I kind of feel like—"

"So what do you want?" Katsuki cut him, knowing to the fact that guy did nothing for the kindness of his heart.

Deku locked eyes with him again and smiled. A drunk smile, the kind that was eerie because the thoughts behind it weren’t clear.

At Katsuki's question Deku gave a step forward, forcing Katsuki to give a step back. Then another, and another. Katsuki followed –prey to the grip that wasn’t budging–, knowing that fighting back might get the psychopath to break his arm all together. In the end, the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch and he was sitting on the cushions. Deku forced him down by sitting his weight over his lap.

Deku finally let go of Katsuki's hand and face. He sat up straight, looking down on him. Katsuki’s muscles spasmed at the scrutiny of what they recognized as a predator. Katsuki’s mind was on their side, but Katsuki’s heart stinged.

Deku’s smile was sweet as he spoke.

"Say 'please' and I'll tell you."

But being frightened would never be enough to make Katsuki play anyone's games.

"Where are the people they abducted and what happened to the assholes?"

"Ah...", Deku seemed to remember something and pulled his head back to look at the ceiling. "The assholes... they had a wall of pictures and info on you. It pissed me off so much. So they are kind of... gone."

"Gone?" This fucker.

"Yeah", Deku lowered his eyes and lifted his thumb to caress the wrinkle that appeared in between Katsuki's eyebrows. "Don't worry about it so much, as you said, they were just assholes."

Katsuki pressed his jaw tight, telling himself it would be a waste of time to try to get more answers about what might have happened to those people. He wasn't sure he wanted to know either.

Memories flashed with the images of corpses on the ground and pools of blood.

A few months back, police got intel on the League’s hideout and Katsuki was called in to take part in the breakin. When they arrived everyone was gone. The mole was dead. And Katsuki didn't know what was worse, that he knew the guy and he actually thought he was cool, or the relief that overcame him when the tight grip on his chest came undone at the sight of the empty basement.

Katsuki pushed that feeling and the revolving memory to the darkest corner of his mind where it belonged, focusing back on the depths of those green eyes.

“What about the victims?”, he asked. Izuku moved his hands to play with the locks of Katsuki's hair, his eyes on the ash blond strands, running them on the tip of his fingers as if hypnotized by them.

“It’s all sorted out~. The hostages are in a warehouse all out of danger. I came to give you the location”, Izuku stopped playing with the hair on his fingers, hugged Katsuki’s neck and said, “In exchange for a kiss~”

“You have finally lost it.”

“Have I?” Katsuki smelled the whiskey on his breath along with a sweet perfume that should not linger around a bloodthirsty villain. “What will Pro Hero Dynamight not do for a defenseless civilian?”

Katsuki bit his tongue and refused to grace him with a response. Izuku brushed a lock of hair away from Katsuki’s face. The man lowered his face so their noses would touch. “Your worst weakness is your kind heart”, he mocked him.

That face, so close, was the thing of his nightmares. The features that hide the ghost of a kid he met in another lifetime.

Katsuki closed his eyes.

The way those eyes had changed, from the glistening green of summer leaves to the darkest shade of a night forest, was a disturbing reminder of what had been lost.

He remembered the night at the camp during his first year at UA. That night while attempting to run and get to safety, he was separated from his group of classmates. He was alone, looking for the path that would take him back to the camp while staying alert to any villain that might intercept him on his way. With his senses heightened out of fear, he could feel the crunching of the fallen leaves as loud as his heartbeat. It’s hard to tell how he heard nothing coming from behind before the voice called for him.

‘Kacchan’.

He turned around to see and the walls of his heart caved in. As much as he had played this scenario on his head since the day Izuku disappeared, he was not by any means thrilled for how the scene had unfold. From all the emotions that flooded him, there was one that was the loudest and the clearest: Izuku had died a long time ago.

Katsuki opened his eyes again, focused on every feature that had changed, and held onto them with all his will. He, the one that had refused to believe Izuku was forever up and gone, switched to grief when everyone else that had known about the kid cried that he was back.

Are they blind? He thought back then. This is someone else on his shell.

“No kiss, no location.” Izuku said with a giggle on top of him.

This person was the only thing that was left of the kid he once met.

“No location, brain injury.” Katsuki answered back.

The only thing he had left of him.

“Kacchan!” he whined.

‘Kacchan!’ Echoed on his mind.

“Shut the hell up, you're going to wake up the neighbors.” He snapped.

Izuku dropped his head over Katsuki’s shoulder and released a loud, frustrated sigh. After a moment of silence, he tightened his embrace around Katsuki’s neck and moved his knees to sit higher into his lap. Katsuki tensed immediately.

“If you try anything weird I swear–”

“Do you ever miss me, Kacchan?” He asked.

Katsuki’s voice died on his lips. His heart was pierced by an emotion he didn't want to name.

Miss Izuku?

For years.

To this day.

“Why are you wasted?” And what was he the one who had to suffer the worst of it every time?

“I was lonely”. His voice was so faint, so fragile. It had a dangerous resemblance with the voice that still lingered on his ear after so many years. The voice that had asked him to play with him in the sandbox and by the river close to their home, the voice that called for him at school and always tailed after him during the breaks.

Those words in that voice were too much to hear.

“What about all your minions? Go bother them.” Katsuki attempted to move away to feel less suffocated but it was no use.

Izuku tangled his fingers around the heat at the back of Katsuki’s head. He pulled his hair slightly and groaned in annoyance.

“My minions don’t shut up about plans, and plans, and plans. They want me to do so many things for them. I’m the one that should be doing the bossing, but they nag me all day long. Think plans by yourself if you’re so smart, idiots.”

He raised his head to look at Katsuki.

“They are so stupid. I have to make backup plan on top of backup plan because they keep messing things up. It's exhausting.”

He let his head drop down again. Katsuki felt the cold tip of his nose tickle his neck.

“What do they want you to plan for?” What the hell do we have to prepare for next?

“A bunch of bullshit.” His voice was muffled by the clothes of Katsuki’s shirt.

Katsuki’s frustration at his answer must had being obvious because he later added,

“Don’t worry Kacchan, I’ll make sure they don’t make too much of a mess.”

“Yeah, it’s not them I have the most worries about.” His voice was tinted by grudge.

In the following questions Izuku’s voice was heard next to his ear. “Why? What did I do?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“...”

Izuku seemed to think harder about the matter and something must have clicked because his tone suddenly turned soothing.

”You meant that thing that happened over the weekend?” He laughed, “Didn’t I tell you they keep messing up all my plans? Those people blew that place on their own. I contained the damage as best as I could.”

Izuku’s fingers moved from his nape to his back to play with the edge of the neck of his shirt.

“I like heroes, Kacchan. I don’t hurt them just because.”

Katsuki felt him scratch over the line of his spine with his nails.

“Is that damn anti hero faction that makes them believe they can think on their own. They’re a pain in the ass.” A hiccup. “Some of the assholes even found one of my merch hideouts and burned it. If I ever find out who it was I’m going to kill them!” Izuku pulled another strand of hair, hard enough to almost rip it off Katsuki’s head. Katsuki had been well aware of his every move, but that took him by surprise.

“For fucks sake–! Lower your voice.” He lifted a hand to hold the hand that was gripping his hair. “And let fucking go off me.”

“But Kacchan–!”

“Enough with the drunk talk, loser!”

In a daze, Izuku was caught by Katsuki’s eyes. He stared, then smile, and the whisky was clear on his voice when he leaned his weight over Katsuki’s chest and said,

“Almost half of my Dynamight merch was in there. I only have a hoody left. And some photocards and some posters. I had to fight so many people to get those.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He giggled.

“I can’t help it. They piss me off sometimes. So many people drooling over your pictures.” He frowned at the memory and seemed to suddenly recall something that had particularly bothered him. “Like that picture of you on the subway!!” He complained and hit Katsuki’s shoulder with his fists in protest.

“Shhh!!!” Katsuki hushed him and held him by the throat in a silent threat.

“They have no right!” Izuku whispered dramatically loud. Another drunk thought and a tender feeling overcame the anger. He smiled, his nose touching Katsuki.

“Other heroes are cool, but Kacchan is my hero.”

How much Katsuki wished the idiot would shut up, delivering stabs to his heart and playing oblivious to it.

‘Kacchan is my hero.’

Nothing could be said with the lump he had on his throat. He trembled at the thoughts of the dreams he had every night, a kid with fear in his eyes and an iron hope in his voice when he stated to the evil people,

‘Kacchan is going to come save me’.

Katsuki's will waivered. That kid in the park that had gone missing. The kid that was all alone there waiting for Kacchan for their play date. But Kacchan decided to ditch him that day to go to the arcade with the other kids. He looked at the man on top of him, at that face that hid the core of all his guilts, and he ached with the need to lift his arms and hold him in place so that face wouldn’t disappear on him again.

What would have happened if he had shown up back then?

Would the kid be safe? Would they both have had the same fate?

Would Katsuki be dead by now too?

But would that mean they could have stayed together?

Katsuki’s only weakness was that kid he left in that park.

‘I'm sorry’ always lingered on his tongue, but sorrys couldn't turn back time.

And still, the words urged to be said, and pushed his lips open on moments like this when those eyes mushed his insides and had his soul begging. ‘I would go back and go with you if I could. I would leave with you if I could.’

But as the words wanted to spill out of his mouth, a sound ripped the veil of the moment.

Izuku frowned at the tune that cut the silence and moved away from Katsuki's shoulder. He sloppily felt around his pockets to look for his phone. He took it out and looked at the screen confused. Katsuki snatched it out of his hand and read the message on the notification bar.

Dabi

im here

where the fuck are you

3:25 a.m.

“Your ride is here, get off of me.” Katsuki pushed Izuku off of his lap. He grabbed the bottle that was still on the floor next to the sofa, walked a few steps to pick up the jacket laying over the carpet, and then held Izuku's arm with a strong grip, dragging him to the window.

Izuku mumbled his protests but Katsuki didn't pay him any mind. When they got to the window, he slammed the bottle on one of Izuku's hands and the jacket in the other, before pushing the window open. He point out and said,

“Get out.”

“But why by the window?”, Izuku complained without complying.

“You got in by the window. And you are not leaving by the fucking door. No villain is going to get spotted leaving my apartment by the front fucking door.”

Izuku looked back at him with an angry expression. None of the honey on his eyes remained and Katsuki was targeted with a laser gaze as if he were any other piece of trash on the sidewalk dirtying his shiny fancy shoes.

Izuku looked away from Katsuki, insulted. He murmured something under his breath. Katsuki could distinguish some of the colorful words that were directed towards him. He put on his jacket before approaching the window.

The villain prompted one of his feet to the frame, getting ready to jump, when Katsuki suddenly grabbed him by the collar.

“Give me the location”, he ordered.

Izuku huffed, laughing at the only man that had the guts to believe he could be ordered around by someone. He shoved his hand under his jacket and took out a wrinkled piece of paper the side of a small notepad before trusting it in Katsuki's hand. He refused to look at Katsuki or honor him with a ‘goodbye’ –not that it would be welcomed– and shoved away the grip that held him from behind.

Katsuki let go of him and didn't say anything more as he saw the villain drop from the tenth floor of the building.

When Izuku was finally out of sight, his body could finally relax.

Katsuki sighed, and closed the window. He was about to lock it when he remembered the broken latch. He clicked his tongue and cursed at the idiot that left once again without paying for the damage he had caused. Giving up to his tired muscles he turned to sit on the floor with his back against the wall.

He gave himself a moment to breathe. When he felt his hands stop shaking he looked for his own phone in his pocket to message his boss while helding Deku’s note still folded on his fingers.

my source handed me another tip

3:46 a.m.

ponytail (boss)

Hit me.

Whoever this person is, one day we will have to condecorate them.

3:48 a.m

#fanfic #fanfiction #bnha #mha #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #izuku midoriya #izuku #deku #villain!deku #bkdk #🍰 -- short fic

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daisiescomelate · 5 months

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Prompt: Reader starts working at a new company and Nanami is in charge of training you, the thing is that you can't do a single thing right and the poor's man blood pressure is starting to spike.

Content: Nanami/Reader, office workers, drabble.

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You graduated with a degree you never got to use. So many years of work, so much money. You felt like your soul was ripped away from your body when eventually you got no choice but to start to apply to random companies for a job because it was something that couldn't be delayed anymore. So after months of being ghosted and failing interviews, even having no clue what was going to be of the rest of your life, you cried tears of joy when you received a welcoming email telling you you passed, because finally you felt like you had accomplished a little thing after so long. Problem was, you had no clue what your job was actually about.

You were completely lost from day one, from catching the wrong bus, to walking past the right street. It took you a while to get to the office building. You were fairly late. It was embarrassing, actually.

After messing up before your day began, and a welcoming talk from your supervisor, she introduced you to the employee that would be in charge of your training.

"Nanami Kento." He greeted you shortly while extending his hand to you when you were alone.

From the very beginning everything was a struggle for you. You messed up people's coffees, often got lost in the chain of emails that others endlessly sent around to let everyone know that plans had changed, had no clue how to use the printing machine, got the paperwork mixed up at least twice a day.

It didn't help that no one allowed you to finish a task before throwing something else at you, or that one of your bosses often interrupted you to ask you to do some meaningless thing for them, or that the managers contradicted each other on a daily basis and you had no idea what direction to follow when they did that –asking only made it more confusing and started fights.

But no matter how much stress this was, it was not an option for you to quit. This was your first serious job, your first this-pays-my-rent job, this-is-about-my-insurance job. Also, you were the stubborn type. You wanted to overcome this, become good at this, make progress. You didn't want to fail on something else so soon.

Nanami-san was many ranks above you, and had been assigned to you probably because he had been working there for long enough to know how to explain things to someone, but not enough to be able to refuse to do something he didn't want to do. Long story short, you could tell he was simply caught into this.

Still, he was always polite and despite the few times your lack of capabilities got the worst of him, he never raised his voice at you. He frowned and pinched the brick of his nose, but after a deep breath he always helped you through it.

He was patient.

He was kind.

He also had a strong sense of rightness. You heard him stand up in your defense against seniors more than once while walking around the halls, scolding people for asking you to make them coffee when that was not part of your job, or assign tasks to you that weren't supposed to be your responsibility. You two didn't even know each other that well back then.

On the days you felt dispirited and wronged by people in the office, it was nice to know of someone that cared to have your back.

It often made you feel bad, to be someone that needed so much patience; but at the same time seeing how much this man that was very much a stranger to you did to help you out, it filled your heart with desire to improve, and maybe someday be his equal at work, be useful to him too.

Nanami-san wasn't a happy worker. He never did more than he was asked to do, and he didn't care to be overly nice to anyone at the office. He had no friends among his colleagues and he often gave the impression he would rather eat alone every day than sit down at lunch with all those people.

After a few weeks at the company, you were confident to say that there was no one he seemed to particularly like in there. Still, he remained polite unless someone tried to step on someone else's boundaries –that was when he striked as if by instinct to the managers or the boss– despite him repeatedly stating he didn’t like to meddle in other people’s business because it was a bother.

Because you remained kind of a mess, and because everyone else at the office had grown tired of you, he became the person responsible for all your actions at some point. And even then, he never rejected you. He was being more vocal about you having to get your act together, but that was fair criticism since you two often got punished together. It was unfair for the boss to do that, but you couldn't deny there was a selfish part of you that partly enjoyed that meant you got to spend more time together.

You pissed off a client –to be fair, they were being very rude to you.

You ruined a very hard to obtain contract by dropping a soda all over it.

You accidentally exposed your boss for having an affair during a meeting where his wife was present.

You were too loud about a thing you discovered about the company management that everyone actually already knew, they were just playing dumb to not lose their job.

You broke a computer. That was fun, almost got you fired.

After hours (that he complained about no end), skipping lunch breaks together and doing paperwork together to fix your misses. Within all that extra time just the two of you, you got to know him better. He was easily annoyed by everything, and he got angry at something or someone every day, but he had a good grasp of his emotions and sometimes allowed you to make fun of him for being so serious.

With time, three to four months after you began working there, you started talking more. He even accepted to go out for a drink with you a few times in compensation for whatever you did. You had the feeling you helped him release some of the tension off his shoulders when you were together. And it wasn't much longer until you got verbal confirmation for it.

"I don't mind spending time with you."

It was so little, but so much coming from the orc this man could be. He was very grumpy and constantly putting on a no-feeling façade, but there was now a small fissure for you to look through.

A drink became dinner, and dinner became nights going to the cinema. Cooking was his main hobby, so he invited you home every other Friday. You were embarrassed the first time you asked him to go to the park on Sunday but you blushed ten times more when he said yes in his text.

His expression softened, he stared at you more often, he became more hit up when someone said something about you at work, and he started to walk you home some nights if you came out late.

One of those nights you offered him to come in. And the morning after that, you guessed the twist of fate that had brought you to that place so many months ago wasn't that bad either.

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