Notes: Hey, guys! So this is my fic for the Camp Kacchako server's "Mini" Kacchako Bang. Yeah, so this was a 2k minimum event and I said it would be 10k one shot. That was a lie. This is probably going to be around 80k. It got way out of hand and I decided to just run with it. Viki (Youseimanami) was my collab partner for it and I couldn't be more excited. Stories were picked blindly and I was so ecstatic when she picked mine. She's been an incredible partner in this and has had such a hand in creating this. It's been such a beautiful and fun time.

Ochako loved her roommates dearly, but sometimes the very obvious sexual tension between them was strong enough to literally shove her out of the room. Even worse, Shouto was either the most oblivious person in the world or he was doing his best to ignore Izuku's massive crush out of politeness. She could never be sure. Right now, all she cared about was shoveling enough leftover takeout while writing her outline for biology while Izuku and Shouto did an awkward dance in the kitchen behind her.

"Oh, sorry, I'll just-"

"Hm, you're getting batter everywhere."

"Am I? Wow, I really did make a mess!"

"It's fine. I can clean it up."

"No, no, ha, I've got it. You don't have to do that, Shouto. You're being nice enough as it is helping me make these brownies for my class tomorrow."

Resisting the urge to snort, Ochako rolled her eyes instead. There went Izuku, rambling as usual when he got nervous. He was one of the smartest and bravest people she knew, but the guy had a habit of going off on tangents for various reasons. Sometimes, it was when he got excited about something he learned in class or was researching. Other times, it was about one of his favorite animes. This time, it was definitely about Shouto.

"Hey."

Ochako looked up to see Shouto standing next to her. "Do we gotta go?"

"No, you've still got time," he responded coolly. "Do you wanna lick it?"

"Huh?" Ochako blinked, her cheeks flushing despite herself.

Shouto held out the large paddle from the stand mixer they used to stir the brownie batter. "The spoon. Do you want it? You always fight over it whenever we bake."

"Oh, yeah, thanks!" Ochako excitedly grabbed the paddle, running a finger up the middle to get a big glob of the batter and sticking it in her mouth. He knew her so well. Then again, one of the first things he had learned about her upon becoming her and Izuku's third roommate was that she was a sucker for sweets. Batter and dough were two of her biggest weaknesses. "Ooey, gooey, chocolate deliciousness."

"I don't know how you don't get cavities," Izuku said fondly.

"Or sick," Shouto added.

Ochako happily licked more of the batter off and winked. "It's a gift."

By the time she finished cleaning off the paddle, it was time for them to leave for their night class. She hadn't got much more done for her outline, what with that batter distracting her, but it wasn't due until the end of the week, so she didn't worry about it. After making sure her backpack had all her supplies, she hugged Izuku from behind where he sat on the couch and walked out before she could witness the even more awkward dance that was Izuku and Shouto saying goodbye. It was cute and ridiculous at the same time. Shouto caught up with her, his face completely impassive. Maybe he really didn't notice it.

"Hey, I never asked," Ochako said as they walked through campus together. "Why did you sign up for this class? I don't think I've ever seen you take an art class before."

"I used to draw a lot when I was younger," Shouto answered, his gaze remaining ahead while she peered at him curiously. "I haven't for a few years. Seeing your art made me feel like I could get back into it."

"You used to draw? Seriously?"

Shouto nodded. "I loved it. My mother drew too. I wanted to be like her."

Ochako couldn't see it. Shouto was so serious. He always took those classes that made people's heads spin because of how serious they were. Sometimes she found him slumped over his desk in the middle of the night using one of his pre-law textbooks as a pillow. It was a little concerning how easily he burned the candle at both ends. Maybe an art class would be good for him.

"That's so sweet." Ochako smiled. "You'll have to show me some of your old stuff!"

"I can't." Shouto hiked his backpack further on his shoulders. "They're gone." Ochako furrowed her brow at the distance in his voice. "My dad tossed everything away after my mom was committed. All of her art and supplies, all of mine as well. He said it was worthless and wouldn't lead anywhere - that there wasn't a future in art - so there was no point in keeping up the hobby."

Pain echoed in Ochako's heart. "That's awful. Art is an incredible way to express yourself. It would've helped you deal with that." She knew bits and pieces about Shouto's history. He tried to visit his mother every Sunday as long as he had the time. Both she and Izuku had gone with him before. Still, it always wounded her a little when she learned more. "I'm really glad you decided to take this with me."

"Yeah." Shouto tossed her a sly smile. "Although my dad isn't going to be too happy when he realizes what he's paying for this semester: two art classes, acting, fencing, and dancing."

"Dancing?" Ochako blew a raspberry. "You're taking a dancing class too? Oh my god, Shouto, you aren't."

Shouto shrugged his shoulders. "They needed more boys. Plus" - he took one of her hands and effortlessly spun her around in a circle as they continued to walk - "now I'm really gonna be a catch."

Ochako twirled a second time just for fun and laughed. "You're terrible! Every boy in that class is going to hate you by the end of the semester."

Izuku was going to die if Shouto ever did this with him, which she knew he would. She could just see Shouto asking him for help if he needed to practice. Walking in on the two of them slow dancing in the living room while Izuku sputtered nonsense in order to keep from losing it. On second thought, maybe Shouto did know about the crush and was egging it on slowly.

"Still," Ochako mused in a playfully thoughtful tone, "this is a pretty high-level drawing course. Everyone knows that life drawing can be difficult, especially when we work with a model. Anatomy is no joke." She hipchecked him. "You sure you can hack it next to us professionals?"

"I might surprise you," Shouto responded, stepping up to the challenge.

"You can draw Izuku like one of your French girls by the end of the semester," Ochako teased.

Shouto shook his head. "It'd have to be in pencil only. If I tried to paint that, I'd run out of red paint."

Ochako laughed again. Oh, yeah, he definitely knew, but she didn't think he minded. She'd taken plenty of life drawing classes, some even before college, but she still managed to get excited and nervous at the same time. Every model offered something new and different to the table. Lately she'd been struggling with her own style versus what professors looked for in their students' art. This would be good practice for her, even if she did spend the first half of the semester awkwardly blushing. To be honest, she was kind of glad Shouto was taking this class with her. He didn't get embarrassed about anything, so maybe that would help.

One thing was for sure: this was going to be an interesting class.

"Dude, I still can't believe you're doing this," Denki laughed as Katsuki tugged a t-shirt over his head.

"Shut up," Katsuki muttered underneath the material before pulling his head out.

Denki grinned broadly. "I don't know why you're putting that on when you're just gonna have to take it off." He shrugged his shoulders. "You can just walk around shirtless like Eijirou does all the time."

"Shut up," Katsuki repeated more heatedly.

From the couch where he was playing Mortal Kombat, Eijirou chuckled and cheekily added, "It's very freeing." As expected, he was shirtless, wearing a pair of basketball shorts, socks, and crocs. It was an utter travesty. Katsuki didn't get embarrassed easily, but how Eijirou went out in public like that without dying of humiliation was beyond even him.

Katsuki rolled his eyes at his roommates. He didn't know why he lived with these dumbasses. (Yes, he did. Rent was expensive as fuck and he couldn't afford to live on his own and double major at the same time.) He had tried to keep this new job a secret from them, but dumb as Denki could be sometimes, he found the ad tucked away in Katsuki's chemistry textbook. After that, it had all gone downhill. They thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Super serious Katsuki Bakugou, engineering and chemistry double major and part-time model.

It wasn't nearly as funny as it sounded.

The trouble with majoring in two difficult fields was that it didn't leave him a lot of time to work. Unfortunately, when it came to capitalism, he kind of had to do that in order to survive. His grants and scholarships supplied the money for his classes, essentials, and some of his bills, but he could always do with more cash. Holding down a steady job was hard when school would always come first.

He had spotted the ad by accident, but the simplicity of it caught his attention. Modeling for a life drawing class on campus. That sounded simple enough. He could brainstorm and think about schoolwork while he just stood there for a bunch of wannabe artists to draw. Plus, there were bound to be some cute girls in there. Katsuki was much more focused on his school and didn't have time to date or anything, but he wasn't dead.

When he had called the number, curious at the job, the professor had explained that her usual model quit last second and they needed to find someone fast. So far, the applicants had been...lackluster at best. It took a lot more effort than people thought when it came to modeling for a class. The few that they thought might work out had balked at the idea of standing nude for an hour or two twice a week while a bunch of people drew them from multiple angles and lighting.

Katsuki didn't give a shit about that. He might have secretly been a bookworm, considering that he was double majoring and had been forced to finally admit it, but he worked out too. He knew he looked damn good naked. None of the girls he'd hooked up with in the past had complained at least. For the money they were offering and the small amount of time it would take out of his schedule, he would do it.

Huh. That kind of made him sound like a hooker. Whatever.

Considering that he was going to spend most of the time naked, Katsuki didn't think about what clothes he put on, just some workout shorts and a t-shirt. He packed his gym bag, figuring he'd go after to blow off some steam before returning to the apartment to finish his biology outline, and walked out the door.

He very blatantly ignored Denki shouting after him, "Don't forget us when you're famous!"

Idiot. He was just jealous because he couldn't get the gig. Apparently, he was really into artsy chicks this year. He changed his mind every year on what his type was. One day he'd figure it out what he liked. Until then, he'd remain the indecisive, little shit that he was. Katsuki at least knew what he liked. So far, no one had really caught his interest and he hadn't really dated anyone for a year. It didn't matter. Let Denki play the field and Eijirou the gentleman. He didn't have time for that shit. If someone caught his eye, then maybe, but it was highly unlikely.

Denki seemed convinced that Katsuki was going to find the girl of his dreams in this class, but he didn't think so. Nothing was going come out of this. If it did, he couldn't see it being anything more than a one or two night thing. After all, he was going to spending a lot of time standing around naked by the end of the semester. Sure, they were professionals, but they were also a bunch of college kids. Still, he didn't think much about it. This was a job and he did not mix things if there was a chance they'd blow up in his face.

Chemistry taught him that lesson well enough.

The moment Ochako walked into the classroom, Shouto holding the door open for her, she was greeted with someone calling out, "Hey, Ochako, I saved you a seat."

Ochako smiled and weaved her way through the stands. "I don't think the floor counts as a seat."

"Sitting in a chair just holds you back," Neito quipped, patting the smooth floor next to him.

Instead of arguing with him, Ochako set her bag down and plopped next to him. He wasn't wrong and knew damn well that she liked to sketch on the floor. Half the time at home, she could be found on lying on her stomach in their living room instead of in her room sketching at her easel. Different positions seemed to help her produce different art. Or maybe she was making it up and the real reason was because the floor offered her more space. She had a habit of being everywhere when she was in a mood.

Shouto hesitated a moment, his eyes sweeping to an empty chair behind her. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Oh, would you rather me sit up there with you?" Ochako asked, tilting her head back to peer up at him. She hadn't even considered what he would be more comfortable with. This was much more of her world than his and she was supposed to help him feel included. Instead, she'd immediately fallen into her old habit of pairing up with Neito whenever they had a class together. He was an arrogant, little shit sometimes, but he had excellent attention to detail and vision when it came to art and he was honest and friendly with her.

The look on his face now as he stared up at Shouto did not come off as friendly.

Shouto shook his head. "No, do your art where you feel most comfortable. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Too good for the floor, Todoroki?" Neito drawled.

Ochako swat him on the arm. "Don't make me move too."

Neito held his hands up in defense. "My apologies." He gave Shouto a smile that didn't feel too authentic, but questioning him would make her look like an ass if it was. She was used to his behavior with other people, but she wouldn't tolerate it with one of her closest friends and he knew that too. If he wanted her to stick around, he'd keep his antics too a minimum. He was smart like that. "You're new to this scene. It's easier to do art in a more traditional manner when you're not used to it."

That did not mean he was going to end his antics completely. He was still Neito, the big dummy.

The urge to bring up Shouto's old artistic talents came to mind to prove that he wasn't new to this, but Ochako stayed silent. It had sounded like something very personal. The fact that he hadn't attempted to draw or even pick up a paintbrush for over a decade made it clear. Besides, it was almost impossible to embarrass him. He could walk out of here having only drawn stick figures and he wouldn't blink. He was frank about his skills and where he also lacked. Art was her thing, not his, but it could still mean something to him again.

"I shall do my best not to embarrass you, Ochako," Shouto said as he sat down. From his spot, he would be able to look over her shoulder to see her sketchbook if he needed a reference, although she hoped that he would remain committed to attempting his own style. Even after all these years, it still felt like she was figuring out her own and it changed when she used a different medium. She wanted something that was noticeably hers. After years of just trying to make great art, she wanted to make her own.

And she wanted that for him too. "You would never."

"If you say so," Shouto replied, sounding amused like it was an inside joke. He even smiled at her faintly before turning his attention to unpacking his supplies. Maybe he'd try to prove her wrong by drawing atrociously on purpose for their first actual class.

When she turned to Neito, Ochako nudged him with her shoulder. "Be nice to my roommate."

"I'm always nice," Neito insisted pleasantly.

Ochako snorted. "Bullshit."

Undeterred by her response, Neito nudged her back and began to arrange his supplies in a careful manner. He was so particular about his setup. She once threw him off for almost an entire class when she hid one of his charcoal pencils from him to see what would happen. She'd been worried he wouldn't talk to her for the rest of the semester after that little prank, but he showed up for the next class as if nothing had happened. However, he kept a closer eye on her nowadays.

"Oh, by the way, did you hear?" Neito piped up. "The usual model for Kayama's class quit."

"I bet that threw her for a loop," Ochako said as she set her case down next to her.

"She put an ad out on campus to fill the spot last second," Neito continued. "Apparently she found someone or this would've been a much different class."

"Maybe she's doing it herself," Ochako mused. She laid a palm down on the ground behind her and leaned back as she thought about the professor in question. "She's beautiful. She looks like she used to model lingerie."

Neito chuckled. "Half the class would die of shock. Most of us are desensitized by now to naked models, but even art majors would struggle with her."

"Calling yourself out?" Ochako teased.

"As if." Neito laid a hand over his heart. "I'm a professional artist."

He was actually an architecture major, but his art minor helped him tremendously. Plus, he had a natural talent that he'd been working on for years. Despite his careless attitude and penchant for coming off as the best in the class, he had an actual skill to back it up and she knew he was very serious about his art. It wouldn't be the kind that was placed in museums and galleries. No, his art would hopefully be the museums and galleries that displayed hers. That was the dream, wasn't it?

"Good evening, class." Professor Kayama's stilettos were dangerously high and thin. Every step she took on the concrete floor echoed through the room. "I'm happy to see a lot of familiar faces" - she winked at Ochako and Neito - "and exhilarated to find some new faces too."

Shouto wasn't the only one new to art. Ochako didn't recognize three girls, an older man, and a red-faced boy who looked in danger of passing out before class had even begun. Then again, it was an understandable reaction, even if it was hilarious in light of Shouto's completely straight face beside him. Kayama always dressed sharp enough to kill a man for class, even her glasses one step away from being a murder weapon. Ochako admired the hell out of her. Stunning as she was - and she knew it - she was also a well-known artist in her community and passionate about helping her students cultivate their own skills.

"As some of you are aware, I had to find a replacement model for our class last minute," Kayama stated once she reached the middle of the class. Situated in a circle, each student was ensured their own unique angle for the lesson, which would change as they moved to different time limits for each drawing. "The replacement is new to modeling, but I'm confident in his abilities. Treat him with respect. I'd like to keep this one."

The number one rule of any life drawing class was to treat the model with respect. After all, they wouldn't have a proper class without them. Not every model stood naked before them. Chances were there would be classes when he would be fully clothed so they could figure out their way around that. Kayama liked to experiment, which was part of the reason why Ochako loved taking her classes so much. She was utterly fearless. That put some students off, but not Ochako. That attitude helped her thrive and become bolder.

"Another male model," Neito sighed.

"Don't sound so disappointed," Ochako murmured. "They're not here for you to ogle."

"I really wanted to work on my female anatomy," Neito replied, turning his nose up at her. "Ah, oh well, another time then."

Ochako snickered. "You're such an art nerd."

"You say that like it's a bad thing when you're even worse than me," Neito pointed out. Again, he wasn't wrong. Quite a few people thought he was kind of an asshole, but Ochako knew after having class with him multiple times that he genuinely cared about art. He liked and wanted to improve. She'd seen his portfolio before and it was incredibly diverse. There was a lot hidden under that smug, careless attitude that he exuded, a bit like how she knew there was much more to Shouto than the impassive air that radiated from him.

"Class," Professor Kayama announced, "I'd like you to welcome Katsuki Bakugou."

The door opened once more to reveal a guy their age. Judging from the way he slunk inside with his shoulders hunched and a backpack slid over his shoulder, he must've been a student on campus. His blonde hair was wild and spiky - a nightmare to draw - and his red eyes sharp and dynamic - even more difficult to capture. He had equally sharp features, but when he turned his head to survey the room, his face changed into something softer, not quite round like her face. It was interesting. She could see why Kayama had chosen him.

Ochako glanced back at Shouto and grinned. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"I can handle myself appropriately," Shouto replied. "Can you?"

"I remain committed to the professionalism of my art," Ochako said snottily before dissolving into playful giggles. He smiled. This wouldn't bother her at all. Their model wasn't her first and he wouldn't be her last. It had been awkward in the beginning, but now she was used to it. On the other hand, it would be interesting to see if Shouto squirmed at all during this class.

"Again, let me know if you need a break at any point," Kayama said.

"Yeah, yeah," their model - Katsuki - grumbled. When his eyes landed on Ochako on the floor in the front row, he stopped for a moment. Despite the fact that she had seen countless of models of varying levels of attractiveness, her heart skipped a beat as he stared her down. He looked familiar, now that she surveyed him. She gave him a smile, hoping it might reassure whatever nerves he felt, but he simply scoffed and peeled his t-shirt off.

Oh, shit, maybe she wasn't ready. Katsuki was definitely on the higher level of attractive as far as life drawing models came.

Ochako was very professional and had taken too many life drawing courses since high school to get flustered over a handsome boy. She'd been forced to draw too many butts and other unappealing parts of the body to blush awkwardly and flail on the spot. However, even she felt the urge to clear her throat when he slipped his shorts over his hips and down his legs to kick them to the side where he'd thrown his t-shirt. Holy shit, he was in shape. Well, good, she needed to work on drawing more defined muscles. This would be a great exercise.

Neito leaned closer to her. "You alright over there?"

"Would you shut up, you asshat?" Ochako snapped halfheartedly.

He didn't even have the decency to not chuckle. She'd teased him about that in their first class together when they had a very attractive female model. It only made sense that the tables would finally be turned on her. She couldn't luck out of embarrassment all the time. Still, this was nothing. She'd seen enough naked men that even her last boyfriend accused her of not being attracted to him. She had been, but… A butt was a butt. It was hard to get excited about them after drawing the two hundredth one unless it was your thing.

This one would be no different.

The class progressed as normally as it could for Katsuki while he stood naked in front of a handful of people. They started with one minute drawings, which apparently allowed the students to get a feel for the model's figure but not have the time to consider it deeper. It also gave him one minute to briefly consider pulling his clothes back on and storming out of here. Did he really want to be involved in this bullshit? Could he actually handle an entire semester of this? He'd thought it would be a piece of cake - again, he wasn't self-conscious and, despite what his friends thought of him, he could remain still for long periods of time when concentrating - but it was weird.

Could he handle months of strangers drawing his ass and johnson in various positions?

It had only been a minute, but it had felt like a lifetime before Kayama instructed him to turn slightly. In those sixty seconds, he had decided that this was one of the dumbest things he'd done, but also he needed the money and it would keep from having to find a part-time job that would mess with his sleep schedule. Whatever he earned from this would tide him over. There was nothing for him to be embarrassed about and he didn't think anyone here would complain about looking at him, except for maybe the few straight guys who had hoped to get a hot female model.

The blonde guy sitting on the ground next that super cute brunette had seemed displeased upon his arrival, but before Katsuki could think to sneer at him, he'd got to work at drawing, completely unaffected. It was like he didn't even care that there was a naked guy in front of him, merely resigned to the fact that this was his fate for his chosen degree and he would dutifully suffer through it. The girl's eyes had widened upon watching him undress, if only for a moment, which had been satisfactory until she got to work too. Then it was business as usual.

A few other people reacted, some more than others, which made him figure this might be their first life drawing class, but for the most part, everyone just wanted to draw. There was that guy with the weird hair and mismatched eyes. He had furrowed his brow for a moment before putting on a face so impassive that it was like he didn't have any emotions to begin with. Still, he'd eyed Katsuki for a beat longer than everyone else before settling on his drawing with only forty-five seconds left. He didn't seem concerned with the lack of time.

A minute didn't seem like enough time to draw anything to Katsuki, but it was the start to today's lesson, one most of them seemed familiar with. During the interview, Professor Kayama had explained the different activities she did throughout the semester and how she varied each lesson. This first one involved them drawing him in progressively longer intervals and from different angles. Each time they moved to the next time, he would turn so that they had to draw him from a new perspective. It was the best one to start with for both him and her students, according to her.

The next round was five minutes drawings. Katsuki didn't feel the desire to stare everyone down awkwardly, so he focused on the back wall. Kayama had told him that he could look around if it made him feel comfortable, but it was easier to focus on something that wasn't a person staring at his body. That way, he could detach himself and think about other things to pass the time. Bio outline, chem reading, make sure Denki did his assigned chores for the week, a shit ton of math that would inevitably start to pile up in the next few classes…

"Time's up."

Katsuki blinked. He hadn't even realized he'd zoned out that much until he heard Kayama's voice. A few students sighed in resignation while others smiled or shrugged at their work before turning to the next page. How many trees had been killed for art classes? Whatever. He'd consider the ecological effects of an art major later on in the semester.

When he turned again, the cute girl on the floor was taken out of his view since he couldn't turn his head. Damn. That left an old man and woman right in front of him, which wasn't nearly as pleasant to look at during the ten minutes interval. Again, he focused on a spot on the wall. Since it was the beginning of the semester, he didn't have that much to think about in the way of school yet, so he let his mind drift elsewhere. Steps he needed to take in order to ensure this busy semester would be successful, the necessary breaks he would need to pencil in so he didn't lose his goddamn mind, working out, bills, kicking Eijirou's ass in Mortal Kombat and COD, playing the guitar he had stashed in his closet.

All in all, it turned out he had a lot of things he needed to think about that he'd never taken the time to stop and, well, just think about. He suddenly realized how stressed he'd made himself. For fuck's sake, he was trying to figure out a time when he could just relax and kept thinking, No, that hour won't fit in my schedule when I should do this instead. Maybe double majoring had been a mistake.

Or maybe taking a job that allowed him too much time to think had been a mistake.

The urge to shake his head came to mind, but Katsuki viciously stomped it down. He needed the money. He was just getting too into his shit. Once the semester started to move further into action, he'd be way too distracted by classes and homework to worry about anything else. The beginning of every semester always had him scrambling because of the unknown. Once he got into the swing of things, he was fine. Denki always marveled at his ability to multi-task, stating that it must be some kind of superpower. It wasn't. He was just that fucking smart.

The next interval was twenty minutes and he moved again. It was surprising how many things he could think of when it came to it. When he worked out, he always had music playing to distract him, but at the moment, he only had his mind. This one was a little more brutal because he had to search for something to think about halfway through that didn't involve what he was doing. Maybe it would be helpful if he could empty his mind. Ashido would probably tell him to meditate or get into yoga, but he wasn't about to take advice from Eijirou's sorta girlfriend. That would mean he approved of their relationship. Not that he didn't or cared, but-

And that was how he found a topic to think about for the last ten minutes of that position.

"This is the last one class," Kayama said once Katsuki got in position for the thirty minutes interval. "Make it count. Put your heart into this, but don't let it stray too far from the beginning. This should be a journey."

It sounded like flowery bullshit to Katsuki, but he'd never been into art. He was pretty sure that he'd never drawn anything in his life. It just wasn't for him. Denki doodled in his notes all the time, littering the pages with half-assed drawings when he should've been paying attention. Eijirou had gone to art museums with Ashido and created a series of admittedly hilarious snapchats using famous art. However, none of them were really into it or knew anything about it. The people here were like mysteries to them, especially Katsuki. He liked to consider himself a man of science, but art was all about passion and emotions and…

Yeah, it wasn't his thing.

As soon as the thirty minutes drawing began, a sudden realization struck Katsuki. So far, he had been turning around so that the students could see and draw him in different angles. Each of their drawings was a different perspective of him, which meant different areas to be shaded and body parts to draw. It should've been more awkward to draw him from the front, but no, all Katsuki could think about was the fact that the cute brunette girl was staring directly at and drawing his ass.

He kind of wanted to die.

Katsuki scrambled to think of something - anything - to distract him, but every time he did, his mind would inevitably drift back to her. He didn't even know her name, but now she had the perfect view of his backside and was going to spend thirty minutes drawing it. Maybe she would focus more on his back. The pose he stood in showed off his sculpted back muscles that he'd worked hard on developing. They had to be pretty difficult to draw, right? Maybe she needed practice with that.

Shit, and then there was that blonde little prick sitting next to her, the one who looked like the kind of smug art asshole that was talented and rubbed it in everyone's faces. Not to mention that mismatched pretty boy who had looked for a second like he had never seen a naked guy other than himself in his life. What if he hadn't and this was his first time? What did that matter? What if it wasn't that impressive? How many naked models had they drawn before? That girl probably didn't think much of him.

So many thoughts raced through Katsuki's mind in those thirty minutes. It stretched into a lifetime until it ended in the blink of an eye when Kayama announced, "Time's up! That's it for tonight, class. Let's review." She smiled in his direction. "You can get dressed now. You did wonderful. I can't believe this is your first time modeling for an art class. You should look into this."

"Yeah, I'll drop my double major and go into modeling," Katsuki said with a snort. "My parents would love that."

Considering that his parents were in the fashion industry together and his mom was a former model, they probably would enjoy it. He was not about to tell them about this gig. His mom would start to get ideas about him following in her footsteps and he did not want to admit that remembering her photoshoots had helped him in any way tonight.

As the students spread out their art out to compare and contrast, Katsuki dropped the pose and slowly sauntered over to his pile of clothes. He absolutely refused to rush. There was no way in hell that he would allow anyone to know that he had been uncomfortable for a single second. As far as these art students were concerned, he had been cool and collected the entire time. This had been nothing - it would continue to be nothing - and this whole thing would be a laugh by the end of the semester.

The moment Katsuki stepped into his boxers and tugged him over his hips, relief instantly swept over him. He had never been self-conscious before. Hell, he used to walk around his apartment naked all the time without even a towel despite having two roommates. He did not give a fuck. The only reason he didn't do that anymore was because he'd walked into the kitchen to get a drink, only to find Denki had brought a girl over. Needless to say, he'd been kind of put out when she asked Katsuki if he wanted to watch the movie with them. He hadn't, seeing as how he had an exam the next day, but the girl never came back and Denki never brought her up again.

As he slipped into his shorts, letting them hang low on his hips, Katsuki eyed a few of the drawings he could see. The cute girl and blonde guy weren't the only ones sitting on the floor, but his eyes naturally gravitated to them since they were the closest and their art was the easiest to see. They each had their art splayed out in order of time intervals to show their progression.

Just as Katsuki had expected, the guy's was more traditional. It reminded him of a lot of drawings and sketches he'd seen in movies. It was more professional and realistic, but showed an attention to detail and a good eye for the world around him. He could probably copy anything he looked at and make it look close to the real thing if he was given enough time. That thirty minutes drawing was pretty on point, as much as it pained him to admit it.

His eyes were drawn to the girl's art as the guy leaned over to point at one of them. They widened as he looked at her art. It wasn't traditional like he'd come to expect from art majors. No, her art was much more outspoken. Her lines were bold and dark. The one minute one was haphazard but there was motion to it, reminding him of the movement he'd been trying to mimic in his pose. With more time came more detail in her drawings, bringing him further to life with each one, until finally he finished with the thirty minutes drawing.

Damn, how had she made his ass and back look that good? Denki would've asked for the drawing and made it his tinder profile picture. What could she do with an hour's time to draw? He was actually kind of eager to find out. They would have to hang their final projects up in the school's art gallery for everyone to see. He could already hear the jokes about his ass literally being a work of art, but he pushed that aside. If she was this good, maybe he didn't mind after all.

Perhaps feeling his intense stare, the girl lifted her eyes and connected with his. Neither of them moved or looked away for at least a few seconds. Katsuki wasn't sure either one of them breathed. He knew he should look away, but he refused to back down. She didn't either, even as her face flushed. She set her lips in a determined line that made her look even cuter somehow and he smirked. That finally broke her and she looked away, turning back to look at the half and half boy behind her and ask him a question.

Chuckling to himself under his breath, Katsuki pulled his shirt over his head and finished dressing. He didn't look back at the girl, even though he could feel eyes on him. It could've been anyone in the class, but he knew it was her. It could've just been wishful thinking, but his gut feelings were very rarely wrong. Maybe this class would be interesting after all.

Ochako refused to think about the model. She had never had any issues with it before, even when they were super attractive, so she shouldn't have a problem with this one. He did look a little familiar - with his clothes on, at least. She wouldn't have forgotten any of that had she seen it before and she surely had not. He was a student, so she had probably seen him around campus before. They might've even had a class together. She was pretty friendly and open, so she often talked to the other people in her class. He looked like the type of student who adamantly did not want to talk with his classmates, which might be why she only thought he looked familiar.

Okay, so she was definitely thinking about him. That was not good. She needed to be completely professional and objective about this, especially since he was going to be the model for their class. A lot of teachers usually used different models for their course, but Professor Kayama sometimes chose to use one model for nearly the entire semester. She wanted to see what her students could do with the same subject and watch their progress. It made things easier since the students could become familiar with his body. It also made things more difficult because they had to work on not repeating themselves or simply going through the motions of drawing.

It was also easy to get tired of working with the same subject. At least this Katsuki was attractive and interesting. There had been an intensity about him that drew in the eye: from the confident way he held himself to the fierce gaze that dared people to question him. Ochako was kind of grateful that she got his...backside for the thirty minutes drawing. Getting those eyes just right would've been torture.

(Being caught in his intense stare would have been even worse. How was she expected to concentrate while under such scrutiny? He probably didn't know a damn thing about art, but the way he had glanced over her art and then her nearly made her squirm.)

Leaning back on the floor, Ochako tilted her head back to look at Shouto. "So what did you think?"

Shouto stared at his last piece, an almost imperceptible frown on his face. "Drawing butts is a lot harder than I anticipated - not that I ever anticipated doing it to begin with."

Ochako snorted. "Did it bother you?"

"His butt?"

"Well, I mean, some guys aren't comfortable drawing another guy's, uh, more private areas," Ochako pointed out, trying to be as delicate as possible. This was a little weirder than she'd expected. She had kind of thought that Shouto would be vaguer or gloss over it, but no, he was being so upfront about the experience. It was weird, but she liked it. He didn't always talk about how he felt or his opinions on matters.

Shouto shrugged. "That doesn't bother me. I've seen guys' butts before. Can't really avoid it in the locker room, no matter how hard you try." He leaned forward, propping an elbow on his knee and tapping a finger against his lips. He wore a thoughtful expression. "I suppose it was a better angle for the thirty minutes interval. Drawing his dick would've been strange. They're not exactly attractive."

Using all the strength she had in her, Ochako very seriously asked, "And butts are?"

"His was firm, so at least it had some definition," Shouto replied honestly.

Ochako sputtered, unable to keep from laughing any longer. "You're killing me, Shouto!"

Shouto pulled his focus away from his drawing to smile at her. "You'd actually die if you saw this drawing. I'm really out of practice." He sat upright to stretch his back and let out a sigh. "This is...unfortunate to look at."

"You haven't drawn in a very long time," Ochako reminded. "You're not going to be perfect right away."

"I'm not going to be perfect at all."

Next to her, Neito chuckled haughtily. "Not everyone can be as talented as me."

"Oh my god, stuff it!" Ochako shoved him hard enough to knock him over onto the ground, but Neito just continued to laugh while lying there. She rubbed her face. Sometimes he was too much. Not that she would ever complain about him. He had definitely made a lot of awful classes much more entertaining. Still, she didn't want Shouto to feel like he was being mocked or belittled. This was essentially new to him again.

Peering around her, Shouto eyed Neito's and her artwork spread out. Neito wasn't exactly wrong. He was particularly talented. He must have been practicing more over break because his art looked even more precise, although there was something off about his twenty minute drawing. Everything looked carefully done except for the side profile of his nose. It was too big. Facial proportions was one of his fortes, so she couldn't imagine why he had got it obviously wrong. Maybe he'd been distracted that round.

"I'll get better," Shouto said. He shuffled his drawings together, closing up his notepad, and then shoved them into his backpack.

"If you ever need another eye," Ochako offered.

Shouto nodded. "Right now, I think I'll keep these to myself - and, well, Professor Kayama."

"Totally understandable," Ochako said. "Whenever you're comfortable, I'm here to help. And he's an ass" - she shot Neito a look, but he just gave her a shit-eating grin in return - "but he's really helped me out too - and I'm sure he will do the same if you ask nicely."

Neito changed his expression into one of innocence. "Of course I'll offer my expertise."

Ochako frowned at him suspiciously and then turned back to Shouto. "Maybe if I ask nicely."

"I appreciate it," Shouto said dryly. They didn't know each other, but Shouto seemed to know full well that Neito's advice might not be as helpful to him as it was her. She was tempted to swipe one of Neito's pencils again, but thought better of it. He wasn't that bad right now. If, however, he did say something out of line, she'd take his favorite charcoal pencil and he would check himself.

When Ochako began to pack up her things, she was more careful with hers than Shouto had been. She wanted to make sure there weren't any creases. That could change the way a sketch looked and she wanted Izuku to see them as clear as possible. He could spend minutes pouring over her art and come up with points she hadn't considered or had been struggling with putting into words. Shouto wouldn't get nearly as much help from Izuku. Poor guy would probably just gush over whatever Shouto did. It was so damn cute. She didn't think he was even totally aware of when he did that.

"Oh, hey, I think a few of us are going bowling next Friday to sorta catch up," Neito said as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I know it's way in advance, but I figured I'd give you a head's up. You should come."

"Please, I'd beat you so bad that you'd cry," Ochako joked. "Bowling is my jam."

"I'd like to see you try," Neito retorted, not deflated in the slightest. He liked strong women, in his own words, and she could believe it for once. "Besides, it's not me you should worry about. Kendo could go pro, I swear."

One thing that a lot of people didn't realize was that Neito was incredibly supportive of his friends. It took him a lot of time to warm up to people, but once he did, he happily jumped to their defense. Maybe she was lucky in that they'd gotten along almost right off the bat. She had seen the way he was with people that he didn't like. It wasn't pleasant. He would know better than to be outright rude to Shouto. She'd tell him off and even stop talking to him. Even if they didn't get along in the end, both boys would keep it cool, at least for her.

And guys said girls were catty. Neito might have met his match in pettiness with Shouto.

"Text me, okay?" Ochako said.

"You got it." Neito waved to them. "See you around, Shouto. Better luck next class."

"You as well," Shouto replied coolly. "You might need to work on your noses. The one for your twenty minutes drawing was way off."

Instead of getting insulted, Neito chuckled heartily and walked out of the classroom. Ochako shook her head. All of the boys in her life were so dramatic. He might think he wasn't in that category, but Shouto had his own moments too. He could go from zero to a hundred if something really pissed him off or caught his interest. Boy, would she hate to be on the opposite end of that. He could get intense, even more so that Katsuki had been during this first class.

With their belongings gathered, she and Shouto left class and headed back to their apartment. It was dark outside now, the sun having fully set while they were inside. She had never felt really uncomfortable or scared walking around campus on her own at night, but she couldn't deny that it was easier with Shouto at her side. No one had ever bothered her, but there had been times when she'd worried a guy was following her or things didn't feel right. Shouto didn't cut an intimidating figure at first, but she'd feel bad for anyone that tried to get into with him. According to him, he hadn't had many friends growing up, so he was very protective of the ones he had now.

"Do you think Izuku forgot the brownies in the oven?" Ochako asked once their apartment came into view.

"I hope not," Shouto said. "I worked hard on them."

"I bet he got super absorbed in his research, book, or documentary," Ochako mused. "Probably all three."

Shouto sighed dramatically. "That wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. I swear, his muttering woke me up last night and this is just the beginning of the semester." Ochako raised a curious eyebrow. "From his bedroom. My bed is situated against the wall adjacent to his desk."

"Mmhm." Ochako hiked her backpack further up her shoulder. "I hope he didn't stretch himself thin again this semester. I know he's ambitious and can handle himself, but he worries me sometimes. Remember when we had to force him to go to bed last year?"

"He'd been up for three days straight," Shouto said. "I thought he was going to start hearing colors."

"Our hopeless, brilliant, dumbass roommate." Ochako clucked her tongue. He'd gotten a lot better. Back when they had first met in orientation their freshman year here, he'd been too busy blushing and stuttering to actually respond to any of her questions. "Too bad he's too cute and sweet to get mad at. That's kind of a problem. You wanna get mad at him for not taking caring better care of himself, but then…"

"But then he stays up with you helping you edit an essay for a class he'll never take or bring home dinner when you're having a bad day like he knew in advance," Shouto finished for her. There was an unmistakable smile on his face, the light from their apartment catching it just right. She knew even he got a little self-conscious about his appearance because of the large scar on his face, but in this soft, quiet moment, he was terribly handsome. It was no wonder why Izuku had fallen so hard for him.

Hopeless indeed.