Bakugo clocked in at ten to seven. With a smirk, he realized he'd been the first. Even Tokoyami wasn't here yet. I knew it, he thought. That nerd is gonna be late.

But only a few seconds later the back door opened and Izuku walked through it, lugging his schoolbag.

Izuku briefly looked him up and down and flushed, glancing away.

Like what you see? Me too. The blonde took his time ogling his new employee. His hair was slightly damp, probably air drying from a morning shower. He could smell some kind of floral shampoo. His lips were stained red. Lip gloss? No...candy or something. It was very distracting. If that wasn't enough…

Bakugo held his scheduling clipboard over his waist to hide his almost instantaneous boner. Summer just started. The humidity almost did him in just from walking to Hot Topic from his car. The temperature hit eighty-five before the sun had even risen.

All of this meaning...it was perfectly reasonable for Izuku to be wearing shorts.

Except these shorts might as well have been boxers with how thin they were and how perfectly they outlined Izuku's ass. Izuku bent over to lower his backpack onto the ground and dig out his wallet. Bakugo felt his cock throb. Fuck.

He allowed himself to fantasize for a moment. Marching up to Izuku. Grabbing him from behind, by the waist, sucking and licking his neck like a creamsicle. Sliding those shorts off. Letting them fall to the ground. Bending him over -

" - Excuse me," Izuku said politely, trying to reach the clock-in machine.

Bakugo flushed red, taking a few steps back. "Do you have any other clothes?" he snapped.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Bakugo gritted his teeth. He could at least act like he respects me, he thought. If Izuku was timid and shy I'd have a reason to hold back. But when he backtalks me like that it makes me want to put him in his place. Or rather, beneath him. At the mercy of his desire. That was a place. Right? "Those shorts are too revealing. They violate our dress code."

Izuku smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Okay. would jeans be alright?"

Bakugo gave a brief nod.

Izuku mercilessly bent over again to rummage in his backpack. After a few moments of doing this, he paled. "Oh no."

Bakugo raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"I thought they were…" he sighed, running a hand through his hair with agitation. "I guess I left my spare pair at home. I'll have to go back and - "

" - If you have twenty bucks you can buy a pair in the store."

Izuku flushed. "My wallet was in my pants."

Bakugo growled. "You idiot. How were you going to fill out your work papers without an I.D.?"

Izuku shot him a furious glare. "I said I'll go back, okay? I'm sorry." He couldn't keep the annoyance out of his tone.

He's such a brat. "If that's how you talk to your superiors you won't be working here long," Bakugo snapped.

Izuku took a step towards him and narrowed his brows. "I'm not clocked in. Hell, I'm not even an official employee yet. Which means I can talk to you however I want."

Bakugo smirked down at him. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Izuku snapped.

The longer they stared at each other, the more apparent the tension between them was. For someone so short, so slight of build, Izuku had a fire and rage he was barely able to keep under the surface that matched his own. You know exactly what you do to me, don't you? But you don't care. You're just asking for it, you little -

They both jumped as the loud metallic snap of the backdoor opened. Tokoyami came in and brushed past both of them, clocking in like normal. "I'll open," he declared. "Go with Cinnaboy to print out his work papers."

Bakugo gawked at him. "Huh? I'll just print them here."

"You forgot, didn't you?" Tokoyami sighed, shaking his head. "Our printer's out of ink."

"The hell? It's Jiro's job to - "

" - Yes it is, and she's at Warp Tour right now. As she will be for the next two weeks. Or did you forget?"

Bakugo growled. Not so much at Tokoyami, but his own frustration. Even if Kaminari wasn't cutting back on his hours, we would've been short on help. I hate when Dabi's right. "What about another store? Someone's gotta - "

" - No one's open yet," Tokoyami pointed out. "Everyone's windows are down. Even the department stores still have their doors locked. You'll have to go to the library, unless you have a home printer."

"My mom does," Izuku volunteered. "I have to go back for jeans and my wallet anyway."

Tokoyami nodded solemnly. "Sounds like a plan. Bakugo can print your work papers - "

" - You go with him," Bakugo said, crossing his arms.

"I can't," Tokoyami retorted in monotone. "Shift leads don't have access to those files. Only managers do."

Dammit, he's right. Bakugo bit back a snarl. "How far away do you live?" he asked.

Izuku shrugged. "About twenty minutes."

"We don't open for another hour," Tokoyami assured. "You should make it back in time."

Bakugo swallowed nervously. There was no way around it. For twenty minutes there and twenty more back…He'd have to be alone in a car with Izuku. Shorts-wearing, adorable, red-lipped, soft-haired, bikini-wearing Izuku Midoriya.

He regretted his decision to wear the tight jeans today.

~.~

"That's your car?" Bakugo asked skeptically.

Izuku pursed his lips with annoyance. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's ancient."

"It's a 91," Izuku insisted. "Acuras are some of the best - "

" - That thing's older than I am," Bakugo snapped. He marched across the parking lot to his much more trustworthy black 2019 GT-class Benz. "We're taking mine."

Izuku followed close behind, rushing to keep up with him. "Acura NSXs are one of the greatest JDM cars ever built - "

" - I'm not getting into that freakin' death trap!" Bakugo insisted.

"I rebuilt the engine! It took me two months - "

" - Is that supposed to reassure me?!" Bakugo snarled.

Izuku stomped up to him and stopped in front of him, forcing Bakugo to remain in place. "The engine runs on three twin-turbocharged 3.5-liter V-6 electric motors for a combined total of five hundred and seventy-three horsepower. I'd beat your piece of crap-car in a race on its best day."

Bakugo stared down at him in surprise. Nerd knows cars? he thought curiously. Now that he was seeing Izuku in broad daylight, details came into focus he hadn't noticed before. The baggy T-shirt he wore looked like it used to be a band-T, but the letters were faded to almost extinction. His shorts were thin because they were thread-bare. His All-Stars had holes in them. The straps of his backpack had been duct-taped back together. All that, paired with the thirty-year-old go-cart he called his car…

He doesn't dress like a rich kid, he realized. Sure, there were people who wore ripped jeans and faded shirts on purpose for the aesthetic, but after working retail for six years, Bakugo had learned how to discern the difference between posers and those who were actually poverty-stricken.

Bakugo sighed. "Our pay schedule is biweekly," he began. "But it'll take two pay periods for your first check to come through."

Izuku's shoulders relaxed when Bakugo's tone quieted. "So?"

He rolled his eyes. "So, unless you're rolling in savings, I'd conserve your gas. It's gonna be a while before you're paid again."

Izuku swallowed, averting his gaze. He looked embarrassed.

I was right, Bakugo thought. He probably doesn't have two coins to rub together. "Come on," he urged in a gentler voice. "We're wasting time."

~.~

Bakugo expected the little spitfire to be a chatterbox the whole way. But the moment he started up the car, Izuku pulled out a journal from his schoolbag and started taking more notes from his phone, even as the car moved on the parkway. He hadn't pulled his gaze away once. Even as he gave directions to his house, he kept his eyes fixed on his notes.

When Bakugo finally pulled up to the apartment, he had to actively stop his jaw from dropping. It was an old, deteriorating building. The bricks were crumbling and overtaken by vines. A row of cars lines the curb, some with duct-taped tail lights and smashed-in windows.

I can't believe I accused him of being a spoiled yuppie, he thought. No wonder Izuku hadn't been offended. Nothing could've been farther from the truth. It was laughable how far off the mark Bakugo had been.

He parallel-parked and got out of the car first. Before he realized what he was doing, he walked around the other side and opened Izuku's door for him.

He blushed. Wait why did I...He looked away, grumbling. If he hadn't taken such a long time to pack his books…

Izuku stepped out of the passenger side and swung his backpack over his shoulder.

"You can leave that here," Bakugo pointed out. "We're coming right back."

Izuku glanced to his left, then his right, then back at Bakugo, shooting him a look. The blonde took note of his surroundings and sighed. Right. Guess he can't.

Bakugo followed, observing the green-haired boy curiously as they walked up a few flights of stairs and he dug for his house keys.

The hallway was narrow. The walls paper-thin. Bakugo could hear everything. A baby crying a few doors down. Dialogue from some action movie on a TV. A conversation in another language next door, which sounded pretty heated. A dog barking.

How the hell can this nerd afford a college education? He wondered. His train of thought was halted as Izuku finally got his door open and beckoned him inside.

The apartment was small but clean. Bakugo slid off his black boots when he saw Izuku unlace his converse and place them on a little mat next to the door. Then he slid into a pair of house-slippers before stepping onto the carpet.

"Izuku? Is that you?" A woman's voice called from the kitchen.

"Hi, mom!" He greeted back. "I have someone with me."

"Nice to meet you," a woman even shorter than him said warmly, giving Bakugo a small bow. "I'm Izuku's mother, Inko. Please make yourself at home."

Bakugo flushed awkwardly. He forgot how crazy-intense his own mother was until he met the moms of others. In such a zen, calm environment, he never knew how to conduct himself, so he usually remained quiet. "You have a printer, right?" he asked gruffly.

Inko smiled. "Oh, you need the printer? Of course! It's already up and running."

"Thanks, mom."

Bakugo followed Izuku through another door. Presumably, his bedroom. It wasn't what he'd expected.

A bookshelf filled to the brim with manga and comic books lined the wall. His bed was unmade like he'd rolled out of it. A damp towel hung over the door. Other than a few anime posters on the wall it wasn't elaborately decorated. He only had the bare necessities, not that the room had space for much else. Izuku sat on his bed and leaned over a small nightstand next to it, typing away on an outdated desktop computer. "I logged you in," Izuku said.

Bakugo approached nervously, taking Izuku's spot on the bed. He tried not to think about it too much, but he couldn't ignore the fact he was sitting on Izuku's bed. He glanced briefly at a body pillow stuffed against the wall with a few other pillows. This is where he sleeps. Maybe even where he...

He knew if he pressed his face into the sheets, they would smell like him. His soap. His sweat. His -

Bakugo froze as, right in front of him, Izuku started changing clothes.

He slid off the shorts and kicked them to the side. Exactly what he'd wanted to do himself. And underneath…

Bakugo tried to mask his shudder of lust with a cough. He's wearing it, he thought. The damn bathing suit from the catalog.

A rainbow bikini bottom, held up on Izuku's hips by nothing but a few loosely-tied bows. How easy it would be to pull those strings and let his -

For fuck's sake, his mother's in the next room, he tried to scold himself. The walls in this building were so thin he'd be able to hear a pin drop. This was not the time or place. Still. His pants got tighter and tighter as he watched Izuku squirm and wriggle those slim hips into a pair of jeans.

Please stop, he thought desperately. I can't fuck you here. I can't even touch myself. Bakugo focused on slowing his heart once he finally ripped his eyes away and pulled up the work papers. He clicked the print button and immediately heard a whirring sound coming from the living room.

He'd been about to get up but then Izuku held up a hand. "I'm sorry about this...but would you mind chilling in here while I fill out the paperwork? My mom's kinda talkative and if you're out there with me she'll ask you a lot of questions. It'll be hard for me to concentrate."

You're not a brat at all, Bakugo thought with relief. You're an angel. A fucking godsend, Izuku. "Whatever, I don't care," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I'll try to be quick," Izuku insisted apologetically.

Not too quick, nerd, he thought in a panic. "Take your time. If you screw up I'll have to log in and print it all over again," he snapped.

"Oh. That's true. Okay. I'll be back." Izuku even closed the door behind him.

Bakugo laid down on the bed and undid the top button of his jeans, unable to keep his hands off himself any longer. He stifled a moan with one of Izuku's pillows, which smelled gloriously like him. Sweet and sugary, like cherry or bubblegum. The slight tinge of sweat. Some kind of musky cologne. This smells like mine, he thought with confusion. I didn't think Izuku wore cologne. But that thought process didn't go very far as all too quickly he was already working himself up to a climax.

You're so good, he thought affectionately. Changed right in front of me. Exposed your delicious body. Your toned stomach. Your hips. Your perfect ass. Put on a little show for me. And now you're letting me eat my cake, too. Such a good boy. Such a good little...mmm...oh god so good -

Bakugo bit into the pillow, doing his best to muffle his groans as he released in his boxers, his whole body tight as his pleasure rode him hot and fast like lightning.

He allowed himself to relax into the bed for a few moments. Just long enough to catch his breath. Commit Izuku's sweet scent to memory. Then he put the pillow back the way he found it and sat back up, breathing deep to cool down.

Izuku knocked and entered a few minutes later. "All done," he declared. "Sorry for the trouble."

Bakugo stared at him blankly. You're apologizing? He couldn't remember the last time he came that hard and Izuku was sorry? Wait...he did remember. The passionate night he'd spent with Izuku's magazine photo. The night Izuku rocked his body so hard he passed out afterward, whether he knew it or not.

It was hard to believe the wide green eyes that stared at him now belonged to the same person in that photograph. This way, in an oversized T-Shirt and jeans with slippers, he looked...cute. Cuddly. Soft, like a…

Like a bunny.

Bakugo shook his head as if trying to shake his thoughts out of his brain. Did he actually want...cuddles? From Izuku? He'd never craved that kind of intimacy before. But for some reason…

What the hell is going on with me?

"Bakugo?" Izuku asked.

Bakugo cleared his throat and stood up from the bed. "Good. We'll file it when we get back. You got your I.D., right?"

Izuku handed him his driver's license.

Bakugo examined it closely. He wasn't twenty-one yet. That explained why he'd never seen him at any of the bars he hung out regularly. His birthday was July 15th. That's in a few weeks, he realized. Then he scowled at himself for giving a shit.

He followed Izuku back out into the living room. Inko was straightening a pencil skirt and grabbing her purse. "I'm heading to work, Zuzu!" she said, giving Izuku a kiss on his cheek.

"Okay. Have a good day, mom."

"You too. It was lovely to meet you, sir!"

Bakugo flushed as the door closed behind her. Oh crap, I never told her my name. If his mother knew, she'd beat him over the head for his rudeness.

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom," Izuku said, disappearing behind a door to the left.

Bakugo took the opportunity to have a more thorough look around. He took note of the hand-me-down hoodies that hung by the door. The second-hand couches, scuffed and faded with age. The modest decorating. A few photos of Izuku as a kid. In the park with his mom. A photo of a smiling teenage Izuku holding up a high school diploma. he only saw Inko. No sign of Izuku's father. The kitchen was tidy and kept, but almost too clean, like it didn't get much use.

He snooped through the fridge, frowning at the significant lack of food he saw. I was such an asshole, he thought. Calling him a yuppie partying on his parents' trust fund. The nerd probably didn't eat breakfast, and he'd accused him of wanting a job for some spending money. Suddenly he wondered whether Izuku's slim frame was natural or a result of not getting enough to eat. Guilt crushed him with a vice-like grip.

By the time Izuku emerged, wiping his washed hands on the front of his pants, Bakugo had his mind made up. "We're grabbing food before we go back."

Izuku blinked, confused as he locked back up behind them. "Okay."

"Where you wanna go?" Bakugo asked.

Izuku did a double-take, then shrugged as they walked down the stairwell. "I'm not getting anything, so it doesn't matter what I - "

" - Does that mean you ate already?" Bakugo asked skeptically.

Izuku flushed. "I have cup ramen I'm saving for lunch," he answered evasively.

"That's not what I asked," he snapped.

"I don't do breakfast."

"Just pick a damn place."

"I don't have any money."

"Did I ask you if you had any money?" Bakugo growled, glaring him down.

Izuku's eyes widened. "You...you're saying - "

" - Aren't college kids supposed to be smart or something? I'll cover you, okay? That's what I'm saying. Just tell me where you wanna go."

Izuku narrowed his brows pensively. "But...why?"

Bakugo broke his gaze away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Because I know you didn't eat. Okay? How the hell am I supposed to do my job if I'm worried about you fainting or whatever?"

Izuku placed a lock of hair behind his pierced ears shyly. "Well...you know those...mcGriddle things at McDonald's? And the hashbrowns - "

I don't care how cute you are, little bunny, there's no way in hell we're eating in my car. "We're going to IHOP," Bakugo declared as he burst outside into the sweltering summer heat.

Izuku scoffed. "You said I could pick!"

"Well, I changed my mind. Your choice sucks. So we're doing IHOP."

Izuku opened his mouth to protest but tensed when he looked at Bakugo's car. "Fuck."

Bakugo regarded him with surprise. It's so weird hearing a word like that come out of a sweet mouth like his. "What?"

Izuku gripped his hair, stressed. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking - " Bakugo stared at his car in horror when he realized. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY HUBCAPS?!"

They'd been pulled clean off. Izuku's expression emanated stress, but not shock. In fact, the dread stamped onto his face made it apparent he might've expected this.

Bakugo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is why you wanted to take your car."

He nodded. "This is why I wanted to take my car."