A/N: Tumblr prompt, cooking together.

As Izuku surveyed the giant mound of dishes in the sink, he figured that, on the whole, it could be worse.

A small boom rocked the apartments from what sounded like the boy's bathrooms, followed almost immediately by Kacchan's distant swearing, and yep, it could be a lot worse.

It was only day two of their house arrest, but the apartments already felt too small given the distressing lack of real hiding spots available to deal with Kacchan's severe anger management issues. This had become apparent by hour three of their sentence after Kacchan nearly destroyed the living room couches when Izuku dove behind them to evade a blow, and it was then that Izuku had suggested they divide the chores into separate jobs instead of trying to tackle them together.

Glancing at the clock, he swallowed a groan - class would be letting out soon and he still hadn't started dinner yet, a major problem since feeding twenty growing teenagers was no small feat for a professional, let alone one boy.

He finished up enough dishes so he could sort of see the bottom of the sink and began to rifle through the cabinets to determine what kind of pots and pans they had. For a group this large, something like lasagna might be easiest, but if they didn't have the pans for it then he'd have to think of something else. After a moment or two of increasingly panicked searching, Izuku found four large baking pans that would suit lasagna well.

Thank goodness - class 1-A wouldn't have to suffer through his as-yet unperfected chicken katsudon. He was peeking in the fridge to confirm the school kept all of the pantry basics stocked when he heard the front door open and stood up to poke his head around the fridge door.

"Hi Deku! How's day one of purgatory going?" Ochako said with a contagious vivacity that somehow made his impending task of cooking for everyone seem not only manageable, but fun.

"Hi Uraraka," he replied, closing the fridge. "It's, well-" His thought was interrupted by a low, muffled boom that rocked the apartment and was followed by a string of creative curse words that Kacchan was yelling in his 'I want to destroy everything in a ten mile radius' voice. "Uh, like that."

She gave him a sympathetic look and dropped her bag on one of the kitchen chairs. "Sounds like you could use some help," she said, winding her shoulder around in a few circles before skipping over to his side of the kitchen island. "What can I do?"

"Um," Izuku said eloquently, struck all of a sudden by the way the afternoon sunlight made flecks of gold shimmer in her eyes. "We can do lasagna? I mean, lasagna is definitely what we're doing, that's not a question or anything since what else could feed so many people on such short notice-"

He was cut off this time by her laughter, full and loud and unrestrained as she walked over to the pantry to pull out a few boxes of lasagna noodles. "Aye aye, cap'n! How about I get the pasta and cheese layer going while you work on the meat sauce?"

"You sure you want to do this? It's a nice day out, you could be doing homework under a tree or practicing those workouts Gunhead gave you."

"I'm one hundred percent sure!" Ochako said, crouching down to pull out the twelve quart stock pot and a couple of ceramic mixing bowls before setting them afloat with her Quirk. "The thought of you tryin' to make food for everyone alone doesn't sit right with me. 'Sides, all this bending and lifting will be something of a workout, right?"

"Right," Izuku said, deciding not to comment on the fact that using her anti-gravity powers to move pans and ingredients around was much less of a workout than lifting them herself. "I'll get on that sauce, then."

His mother used to make a mean marinara more or less from scratch, and it was one of the first recipes he had internalized by virtue of helping her make it so often. First step was cutting up onions and garlic, so he grabbed a cutting board and set up on the other side of the stovetop. There was something soothing about cooking, relaxing in the way the knife rocked back and forth and reduced whole foods to small pieces. It made him think that maybe other things in life could be reduced to something as simple as chop, rotate, chop.

Izuku glanced over at Ochako. She was stirring herbs and spices into what looked like ricotta while the pasta water heated up, her face scrunched a bit in concentration and the side of her cheek touched by a stray lock of hair. He found himself fighting the sudden, inexplicable urge to brush it back.

Maybe he was staring, or maybe she just had an extra keen sense of when someone was looking at her, because she raised her head at that moment and met his gaze, and - wow, her eyes really were sort of golden-brown; how could he have missed that before? "Need anything?" she asked, that simple sincerity in her voice jolting something in his chest he hadn't known was there.

"No no, I'm fine. Just, you know, saucing. Making sauce. Cooking." It appeared that he had lost the ability to form coherent sentences, and he turned back to sliding the chopped onions and garlic into the large skillet he'd placed on the burner to heat up. Once, just once, he'd like to not lose his cool the moment he spoke to a girl.

Though, he thought as he dumped a few pounds of beef into the skillet with the onions, Ochako was the only one who really made him feel like this. None of the other girls in the class seemed to make him into a slack-jawed idiot quite the same way she did, and while something about how that thought made him feel set off alarm bells in the back of his mind, he couldn't process it any further because the pasta pot began to boil over and he rushed over to make sure Ochako hadn't burned herself.

"It's fine, I got it," she said, sounding more harried than her look of calm concentration let on, and opened the lid to give the noodles a stir. "I always forget about the pasta once I put it in."

"Yeah, me too. Here, put a splash of oil in the pot - it'll keep it from foaming over like that again." Izuku moved to grab the olive oil bottle at the same time Ochako did, so they each ended up with a hand curled around the bottle staring at each other like the worst game of chicken he'd ever had the misfortune to play.

"Uh, sorry about that, go ahead," Izuku said, ears burning - god, why was he like this, it was just a bottle, they didn't even touch-

"No, I'm sorry, got a little ahead of myself," Ochako blurted, eyes wide. Her cheeks were a bit flushed, too - he hoped she wasn't getting too hot in here with all of these burners on.

"How's it going with the cheese?" he asked to change the subject and maybe practice using complete sentences.

"Oh! Great, wanna taste?" She fished out a small spoon from a drawer and held it out to him, expectant. "I tried my best to season it, but I'm honestly not the best cook, so it probably needs some adjustments."

Izuku stared at the spoon hovering in his line of sight. She was going to feed him? Just like that? Wasn't there some protocol for this kind of thing? But she was still waiting for him, spoon outstretched, so Izuku slammed his eyes shut, opened his mouth, and leaned forward to receive his cheesy gift.

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple.

The precise moment he leaned forward, Ochako had shoved the spoon into his mouth and set off a violent coughing fit in a desperate attempt to quell his gag reflex, which sent her into a flurry of "OhmygoshI'msosorryisthereanythingIcando," all of which wasn't very helpful in his efforts to compose himself because now she was patting his back.

"I'm okay," he managed to wheeze after another thirty seconds or so of coughing and swallowing, hands on his knees while she slammed into his back with the heel of her hand. "It tasted good, by the way. Just needs more salt."

"Okay, right! I'm on it!" she said a little too brightly, turning away to find the salt after rubbing one more contrite circle into his back.

If the near-choking experience hadn't been enough to get his heart rate up, the warmth of her touch certainly would have been.

The beef was sizzling nicely in the pan, turning the darker brown of fully cooked, so after giving it a quick, definitely not frazzled stir Izuku poured in a few cans of crushed tomatoes and squeezed in a tube of tomato paste. Next came the spices and, satisfied that the sauce was more or less well on its way to completion, fished out some fresh basil to chop up as garnish.

He was rolling up a wad of the leaves so he could julienne them when Ochako's breath tickled the back of his neck and her voice sounded inches from his ear. "Whatcha cutting up?"

His reaction was instantaneous. One for All Full Cowl tore across his body and granted him the excess power he certainly did not need for simple kitchen tasks, because his next impulse was to slam the knife down and cut clean through the center of his basil pile.

And the cutting board.

"Oh, shoot, um." Ochako looked from Izuku to the cutting board and back a couple times before scampering across the kitchen to dig around another cabinet. "Here, use this one," she said, voice an octave higher than usual as she tapped a new cutting board and sent it floating in his direction. "I'm sososo sorry, I just wanted to help you out but I've been nothing but a menace!"

Izuku grabbed the cutting board and pulled it up so that it covered most of his face. "No, you've been fine, I'm the one who can't control his Quirk very well." He lowered the cutting board a little. "I really do appreciate the help. And that was basil, for the record."

Ochako looked relieved at his words, which made the knot in Izuku's chest loosen somewhat. It was one hundred percent true, though - he hadn't been expecting anyone to want to help out, let alone care so much about doing a good job, so despite his inability to find some much needed calm her presence had been a net gain. "How about we start layering the lasagna? The sooner we can get them into the oven, the less we'll need to worry about Kacchan's Hungry Rage."

"Yeah, good point," she said, laughing. They began layering noodles with the ricotta mixture and meat sauce, getting into such a rhythm by the third pan that they didn't need to speak to build a symphonic tower of cheesy, saucy goodness, finished off with mozzarella and the basil Izuku was finally able to julienne on the new cutting board.

"There," Izuku said with satisfaction when the last pan was put in the oven. "Now we wait. Thanks again for your help, Uraraka."

When he didn't get a response, he turned to see what she was doing and was met with the image of her staring at the oven with tears in her eyes and a faraway look on her face.

"Everything okay?" he asked, taking an unconscious step forward. Did he offend her somehow? Did she cut or burn herself? God, he should have paid more attention to these things; what kind of a friend was he?

The spell was broken when he moved towards her, that megawatt smile lighting up her face so fast he wondered if he'd really seen anything after all. "Ah, yeah, sorry about that. I guess I didn't get as much sleep as I thought and kinda spaced out there. I'm fine."

Glancing at the oven, Izuku said, "Did we miss something with the lasagna?"

Ochako blinked, looking suddenly nervous, like something really was bothering her but she didn't want to inconvenience anyone. "Well, no, not really..."

"You can talk to me, you know," Izuku said, unsure where this surge of confidence was coming from but determined to use it regardless. "Is anything going on?"

She crumbled. Voice thin, like her throat was tight, Ochako said, "It's just, the last time I cooked together with someone like this was when I was back home with Ma and Pa, and we didn't have much, you know, but it was enough, and now here I am eating this nice food while they scrape along." She scrubbed at her eyes. "It doesn't feel right."

Izuku felt his own throat tighten in sympathy. He remembered why she wanted to be a hero, to help support her family and their construction business, and seeing her feel unworthy in any way made him wish he could show her how much he admires her selflessness and dedication. "You worked for this. Of course you deserve to be here and eat good food." He stepped close enough to put a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to be a great hero and help your family, Uraraka. I know it."

Her face contorted for a moment before she grabbed him into a tight hug and hung on. He brought a tentative arm around her waist to better hug her back, and silently willed that all of the fierce respect and admiration he had for her would somehow be absorbed.

After about a minute, she released him with a dry face and a determined expression. "Thanks for the pep talk, Deku. You're right - my parents would want me to enjoy this and be happy, so I'll use the energy it gives me to keep working towards being the best hero I can be."

Her energy was infectious as always, and the answering smile that lifted the corners of Izuku's mouth was also accompanied by a swell of hope. If they kept on supporting each other like this, he had no doubt they would both go far.

"Well isn't that fuckin' adorable. Should I grab Mr. Snuggles so you can all have a goddamn lovefest?" Kacchan was leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen, covered in something Izuku tried not to look at too closely and wearing one of his Imminent Murder expressions. "If Share Our Feelings time is over, I'd like to get some fuckin' food so I can take a fuckin' shower and maybe get some fuckin' sleep before repeating this shitstain of a day tomorrow."

Izuku jumped back from his embrace with Ochako and went to check the oven. "Food'll be ready in another twenty minutes or so. Maybe take that shower first."

Kacchan curled his lip in distaste, but stood up and started to walk away. "It better still be hot when I get back."

In another moment he was gone, and Izuku took a deep breath to try to undo the immediate stress response that talking to Kacchan triggered. His second breath was interrupted by something powdery hitting the side of his face. "What the-"

Ochako had an open bag of flour next to her and three floating orbs of it circling her head. "What's dinner without a good dessert, right?" she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "First person to three body hits gets to choose what it is!" With that, she sent another flour pellet drifting his way and Izuku stopped worrying about Kacchan in favor of seeing if he could reach the bag of flour to fight back before she tagged him again.

While rolling across the kitchen floor to dodge one of her attacks, half-covered in flour and laughing now, he thought that he was lucky indeed to have made such a kind and thoughtful friend.