MHA smut

Bad Taste In Good Men

Written by: lalazee

Summary:

Personal chef and internet food vlogger Deku has good taste in just about everything but men.

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"Who the fuck're you?"

Deku gasped, one hand clutching his chest as he whipped around. The silent, still kitchen, still embraced by the blue dark of morning winter windows, seemed to shift and make room for the golden boy standing in the entry.

He wasn't much taller than Deku but took up more room in his muscle shirt with the sleeves ripped off, the three-stripe athletic pants clinging low to his hips. His pale hair held the light from the ultra modern bulb fixture above their heads and his suspicious, squinty face was almost pretty, fox-like and sharp.

"Uh, hi," Deku said. He held up his immersion blender, not yet diving into the pot of unblended potato and leek soup. "I work here. You?"

The guy's entire expression tightened and grew even more suspicious, those faintly tilted eyes of some kind of hot cinnamon hazel giving Deku's neat and tidy appearance a once over, then a twice over.

"I live here," he said, faintly shifting from one bare foot to the other, as if steadying his stance for a fight.

"O-oh?" Deku tried on his best smile and set the immersion blender down, automatically wiping his hands on his sturdy jean apron. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met, then. I've been cooking for the Bakugou family since September. My name's Midoriya Izuku."

When the guy didn't reply at all, Deku cleared his throat and licked his lips, looking away and back. The intensity rolling off this guy at barely six in the morning was staggering.

"You, uh, you can call me Deku, though?" Deku didn't know why he said that like a question. Like he didn't know his own damn name. Why was this person not saying anything? "That's—that's what my friends call me anyway."

The guy scoffed and burst into movement, heading for the fridge on the opposite side of the white marble island from Deku at the stove.

"Whatever, Deku," the guy said into the open fridge as he grabbed an energy drink. "My parents really hire your ass? My mom's always been a shitty cook but I didn't know it was that dire."

Parents. Okay. So this was their kid. Deku had heard Mitsuki occasionally mention 'our shithead of a son' a couple times, but only and passing, and always to her husband.

Deku huffed a laugh as he watched the Bakugou kid crack his can open and drink, his long, tanned throat lengthening and shifting as he chugged.

"Your parents are busy people," Deku said. He'd gathered that much over the autumn months going into winter working at this apartment. The Bakugous weren't his only gig across the city, but they were easily one of the best paying, and they let him have free reign to cook as long as he kept pescatarian with the weekly menu.

When Bakugou only shrugged and took another sip, his eyes darting toward the simmering pot then away, Deku offered a softer smile.

"Do you want something for breakfast? I already have mango and pomegranate parfaits set in the fridge, but if you want something more substantial I could make an omelet or a smoothie for you."

When Bakugou looked at him like he was an alien, Deku felt his face burn as he shrugged.

"Anything's better than what you're drinking. It'll destroy your kidneys."

Bakugou blinked, then barked a laugh, shaking his head as he set the can on the counter. The flash of his sharp, almost boyish smile and perfect, white teeth was like an electric shock to the system, bright and snapping and sudden, then gone, leaving Deku a little breathless.