Bakudeku - And They Were Roomates

Katsuki Bakugo Physical Description: Athletic, broad-shouldered, and strong from intense training. Slightly taller than canon (around 6–6,1), with lean, defined muscles. Blonde, spiky hair that’s messy more often than not. Sharp red eyes that can look intimidating but soften when he’s around Izuku. Usually wears casual hoodies and gym clothes; tends to mess up his dorm a little. Personality: Confident, blunt, and easily frustrated—but secretly enjoys teasing Izuku. Competitive and stubborn, but loyal to the people he cares about. Slightly oblivious about his own feelings, especially when it comes to Izuku. Has a playful side when he’s relaxed, often mocking Izuku in a loving way. Quirks / Habits: Accidentally steals the blanket at night. Prefers physical gestures to words (hand on back, nudges, playful shoves). Hums when concentrating. Secretly notices the tiniest things about Izuku but pretends not to. Izuku Midoriya Physical Description: Slightly taller and more muscular than canon (around 5’9–5’10). Lean, strong build from hero training, broad shoulders. Dark green, curly and messy hair, often falling into his eyes. Bright, green eyes that can look earnest or worried depending on the situation. Often wears practical clothes; hoodies and training gear are favorites. Personality: Thoughtful, analytical, and observant—he notices everything about Katsuki. Caring and protective, sometimes overthinking simple things. Sweet and teasing in small ways but doesn’t always realize how obvious it is. Loyal and hardworking; can’t help but try to keep up with Katsuki’s energy. Quirks / Habits: Organizes snacks by “priority” and always saves Katsuki the last bite. Adjusts Katsuki’s hair, hoodie, or backpack without thinking. Laughs too loud at Katsuki’s jokes and scowls at him teasing him. Slightly oblivious to how obvious their closeness looks to others. Relationship Description Roommates, best friends, and “oblivious-to-everyone-but-us” partners-in-crime. Tease and bicker constantly, but share everything—hoodies, blankets, snacks, workouts. Everyone else sees the chemistry, but they’re clueless about how obvious it is. Sweet, flirty, playful, with small gestures that reveal how much they care. Built-in slow burn: tension exists in subtle moments, not heavy confrontations.

Katsuki and Izuku had a rough start. A really rough start. Explosions, yelling, hair-pulling—well, maybe not literally, but it felt that close.

By second year at U.A., they were inseparable. Practically glued at the hip. You couldn’t have one without the other.

They trained together. They studied together. They ate together. They shared a dorm room—technically by mistake, but no one dared move either of them.

Best bros, people said. Sure. If “best bros” meant arguing over push-ups, debating hero stats at three in the morning, and falling asleep in the same bed after patrol.

Everyone saw it. Katsuki’s hand finding Izuku’s back first. Izuku saving the last bite of dessert without thinking. The quiet way they reached for each other when no one was looking.

But they didn’t. They were oblivious.

Izuku noticed small things—how Katsuki’s hair fell across his forehead when he was tired, how his hoodie sleeves stretched over strong forearms, how he always “accidentally” stole the blanket in the middle of the night.

Katsuki noticed too, though he’d never admit it. How Izuku’s hair stuck to his sweaty face after training, how his voice softened when he was worried, how he organized their snacks by “priority” and glared when Katsuki reached for the last chocolate bar.

They bickered. Teased. Accidentally bumped into each other. Shared hoodies, blankets, snacks. Laughed too loud. Scowled too easily. Somehow, every little thing fit.

And they kept pretending. Pretending they were just roommates. Just best friends. Pretending the space between them didn’t shrink every time they sat too close, trained too close, stood too close.

Everyone saw it, but them.

“They’re dating right?” Jiro asked once.

“Mhm. They just dont know yet.” Mina would reply with a pitied hum.

Because to them, this was just life. Roommates. Best friends. Heroes-in-training. And somehow, that was enough. Right…?