Chapter Text
If someone is looking for Rikido, they always start in the kitchen.
He’s an almost constant presence in the spacious dorm kitchen as he tries out new recipes that he uses to power his quirk. Being in the dorm is amazing because he’s able to bake so many different desserts for so many people so often. Baking for his friends and classmates has been so rewarding—he absolutely adores seeing the looks on their faces when they first bite into something he’s made. It didn’t take long for them to start making requests, usually followed by an offer to do him a favour of some sort. He’s told them multiple times that he doesn’t mind baking for them just for the sake of it, but they’re all relentless. He can’t complain too much though—how could he when these favours have relieved him of dishwashing duty and given him free copies of the homework?
Rikido finds that baking for his classmates has also allowed him to understand them better. He’s always thought that a person’s taste palette is a reflection of their personality and so far, his theory has proven correct. Uraraka, Ashido, and Hagekure love anything sweet, but they’ve each requested something with strong spices, too, evidence of their dynamic personalities. Iida enjoys citrus flavours—tangy and intense, like himself and his quirk. Aoyama loves when Rikido makes delicate pastries and has sent him a long, long list of other desserts he’s looking forward to having made. He really could go on and on about how much he’s learned from his classmates through their dessert preferences alone. Huh. Maybe he should write his observations down in a notebook like Midoriya.
Rikido’s in the kitchen now, mini rose water cupcakes in the oven as he fills up the first bag of icing for the treats requested by Yaoyorozu. He’s just twisting the bag shut when company arrives—Bakugou stomping into the room, a deep frown on his face.
Rikido sighs. And here is the one person who hasn’t requested anything from him even once, making it even harder to understand him and all his complexities.
“Get the fuck out,” Bakugou says, not even sparing Rikido a glance as he makes his way to the fridge.
Rikido blinks, watching him pull out a multitude of vegetables. “What? No.”
Bakugou is the only other person who uses the kitchen as often as Rikido. They usually don’t occupy the space at the same time, but they have before a couple times with no issue since they both just kept to themselves. He doesn’t know what’s got Bakugou in such a bad mood, but he just wants to bake his cupcakes in peace.
“And why the fuck not?” Bakugou asks, his voice disinterested as he takes the ingredients to the counter, pulling out a cutting board, a few knives, and a pan.
Rikido rolls his eyes. All these months of knowing him and sometimes he still can’t believe just how rude Bakugou can be sometimes.
“Because this is a communal space?” Rikido answers, raising an eyebrow. “Because I was here first and I’m not done with what I’m doing? ‘Cause I can’t leave my food in the oven unattended? Take your pick, man.” Rikido had quickly learned that when Bakugou’s being stubborn the best way to get him to back off is to give as good as he gets. That means standing his ground and not letting the other get his way just ‘cause he got a little aggressive and rude. It’s something Rikido is used to doing, growing up with two older brothers as he has. But he’ll readily admit that it’s still kinda terrifying, because Bakugou is more intimidating and brutal than his brothers could ever be.
“You tryna get smart with me, asshole?” Bakugou scowls, a small pop of an explosion igniting from his palm as he finally turns to face him.
Rikido sighs again, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m not trying to start anything, Bakugou. I just wanna finish making my cupcakes, seriously. I’ll leave as soon as I’m done.”
Bakugou glares at him for a few moments before turning back to his food. “Fine. Whatever. Just hurry the fuck up. And stay out of my way, you diabetic mountain.”
Rikido returns to his task too, picking up a new bag to fill with the yellow icing he made. “I actually can’t get diabetes because of my quirk,” he tells him. He’s not quite sure what made him correct Bakugou, but it seems to have gotten the blond’s attention.
Bakugou raises an eyebrow, glancing at him from over his shoulder. “No shit?” The anger that was in his eyes just a moment ago is mostly gone, replaced by an intense curiosity.
Rikido is surprised at how quickly Bakugou’s mood changes, not to mention the fact that he’s actually showing an interest in his quirk. He’d heard from Midoriya once that Bakugou is a bit of a quirk nerd too, but he’d found it hard to believe at the time. When he thinks about it though, it kind of makes sense. Bakugou is super smart—he’s analytical and strategic, and from the answers he gives in class, he seems to have a really good grasp of quirks in general. Rikido knows that Bakugou always gives people tips on how to improve when they spar, too. He also knows that this advice usually comes after a long interrogation period where Bakugou tries to learn the ins and outs of his opponent's quirks before absolutely laying into them and telling them what they’re doing wrong. From what he’s heard, it’s not the most peaceful experience, but Rikido can see the improvements his classmates make after a couple informative sparring sessions with Bakugou. Rikido thinks that if Bakugou wasn’t so dead set on becoming a hero he’d have no problem pursuing a career as a quirk specialist or something.
Rikido thinks that maybe Bakugou understands people through their quirks, just as he understands them through their food preferences. He knows that Bakugou is dangerously competitive and won’t settle for anything less than a perfect victory, which is likely why he helps his classmates improve while simultaneously trying to beat them into the ground. But Rikido thinks that he also does it because he cares about them, even if there’s no way he’d ever admit it. Bakugou doesn’t do things he has no interest in doing, so there’s no way he’d spend so much time assisting his classmates—his friends when it benefits them far more than himself. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but Rikido knows that Bakugou’s a good guy who works hard and will make an amazing hero one day.
“Yeah. I can’t get cavities or anything either,” Rikido replies, focused on making sure that he doesn’t overfill the bag. It’s proving to be more difficult than usual as his eyes begin to fill with tears from the onions Bakugou has begun to chop. A little warning would’ve been nice. “My body processes sugar really differently than most people. Otherwise I’d just get super sick and go into a coma or something.”
Bakugou hums in understanding. “You get sugar cravings ‘n shit?”
Rikido snorts. “All the time. Why do you think I’m in here so much? I have to eat a certain amount of sugar everyday to maintain the amount of glucose in my body otherwise I’ll crash hard.”
“Your blood sugar levels must be fuckin’ insane,” Bakugou says and Rikido laughs. He has no idea. He’d almost passed out the last time Recovery Girl went over his levels with him. “That level is probably in flux all the time too,” Bakugou guesses, looking thoughtful as he slices carrots with an expert speed. “‘Cause of your age, body changes, and from training your quirk, right? How often does it change? What do you need to do to monitor it?”
And so begins Rikido’s very own Bakugou-style quirk interrogation, sans the explosive beatdown that usually comes with it. He considers that a monumental win. Bakugou asks a ridiculous amount of questions, some of which Rikido doesn’t have the answer to because such thoughts never crossed his mind. He can now understand why Jirou had once claimed that Bakugou can see into their very souls through their quirks. He realizes that he still has so much more to learn about his quirk, and it makes him almost giddy in anticipation.
Amidst all of Bakugou’s questioning, Rikido even gets to learn a lot more about Bakugou’s own quirk. He couldn’t stop himself from asking about the way the explosive boy always seems to smell like burnt caramel, amused by the way Bakugou huffs and rolls his eyes in response before answering.
This is the first time he’s had a real conversation with Bakugou and it’s oddly enjoyable. He’d been surprised when one of his off-handed comments led to a loud bark of laughter from the other boy. He can see now why Kirishima and the others hang around him. When he’s not yelling and threatening the very lives of those around him, Bakugou’s a pretty cool guy. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him and even easier to maneuver around him in the kitchen as they finish their respective tasks.
“Here,” Rikido says, his apron dirty as he faces Bakugou. The mini cupcakes came out perfectly, and he’s really proud of the icing designs he made on some of them. He passes three of them over to Bakugou on a small plate. One has an explosion decorated on top while another has a grenade. The third is an outline of Bakugou himself, just a simple silhouette of his head with spiky blond hair.
Bakugou takes the plate and snorts when he looks at the design, but Rikido doesn’t think it’s meant to mock him. “Thanks,” he says, and Rikido beams at the small smile on his face.
“Anytime! Hey, I’ll be right back to wash up, okay?”
Bakugou just grunts in response so Rikido turns to pick up his stand full of cupcakes. He’d heard Yaoyorozu arrive in the common room not too long ago, right on time, so he brings them out to her. She’s positively delighted when he places them on the table before her and Rikido can’t help but blush a little when she fawns over his dessert.
“These are absolutely delicious, Satou-kun! Thank you so much! I hope using the rose water didn’t cause you too much trouble.”
“I-it’s no problem,” he assures. “The rose water was interesting to work with, I’d like to experiment with it more one day. I’m just glad you like them.”
Yaoyorozu lights up, and he listens happily as she recounts some of the ways she’s seen her family’s chefs incorporate rose water into various recipes.
After they wrap up their conversation, Rikido makes his exit as the rest of their classmates go feral trying to get a cupcake for themselves. He really hopes they don’t break his cupcake stand this time.
As Rikido makes his way back into the kitchen he can’t help but falter his steps, another wide grin coming on his face as he takes in the scene in front of him.
Bakugou’s back is towards him, but Rikido can still clearly see that he’s taking pictures of the cupcakes he made. His classmates always take pictures of his desserts—Yaoyorozu had even gotten a few photos of her cupcakes just now, and his mom has taken a picture of every single thing he’s made at home since he started baking as a kid. But knowing that Bakugou of all people appreciates his design and wants to immortalize it means more to him than words can explain. However, Rikido also knows that Bakugou probably also won’t appreciate being caught in the act of doing such a sentimental thing, so he backs out of the kitchen as slowly and quietly as possible before re-entering with heavier steps.
Bakugou’s putting his phone back in his pocket when Rikido comes back in to wash his dishes. With his own meal complete, Bakugou takes his place next to Rikido at the sink, rinsing the dishes that are passed to him.
“So can you only make food with enough sugar to put a polar bear into cardiac arrest or do you know how to make an actual meal?” Bakugou asks suddenly. “I know you need that junk ‘cause of your quirk but you won’t get far without real food in your body.”
“I’m not the best at cooking, but I make do,” Rikido answers, touched at Bakugou’s poorly-hidden concern for his health. “Have you ever tried baking?” he counters. “You’re good at math and chemistry, plus you’re super detail-oriented and precise so I think you’d be good at it.”
Bakugou blinks at him, looking as though he’s taken aback by the sudden compliment, though Rikido can’t understand why. Bakugou’s loudly and proudly amazing at many things, so he didn’t think a comment as simple as that would faze him.
“Never really had a need to bake,” Bakugou responds with a shrug, turning his attention back to the dishes before him. “Don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I’ve made a couple desserts that didn’t turn out horrible, but I never bothered with actually learning properly since I never really had a need to.”
“What if…” Rikido pauses. He’s had a lot of fun talking with Bakugou, and he doesn’t want them to go back to largely ignoring each other. But he also doesn’t want to pressure Bakugou, knowing he’s not the most social guy around. Still, Rikido has to try.
“What if I taught you how to bake some things and you helped me with my cooking? That way we could both be unstoppable in the kitchen.”
Bakugou hums, mulling it over as they dry their hands, their dishes all clean. “I don’t need those idiots asking me to make even more food for them,” Bakugou replies, and Rikido tries not to look too disappointed. “But, I’ll never turn down the chance to be fucking awesome at something,” he says, sending a lopsided smirk Rikido’s way.
“Awesome! Say once or twice a week?”
“Sure. But everytime you show me how to make something you’ve gotta eat it so we can spar after. And don’t think I’m going easy on you—for training or cooking.”
Rikido laughs, not having expected anything different. “Deal,” he agrees, beyond excited. He’s gonna be getting personal cooking lessons and training sessions with one of the smartest, most talented kids in their class! And he truly hopes he can make a new friend, able to bond through their mutual love and appreciation for food and heroism.
“Here,” Bakugou says, when they’ve finished washing up, passing a plate full of vegetable curry to him, steaming and smelling absolutely delicious. “Consider this your first lesson.”
“Thanks Bakugou, you too,” Rikido responds with a grin, nodding towards the trio of cupcakes sitting next to Bakugou’s own plate of curry.
Bakugou rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless, the two of them taking their curry and cupcakes out to the dining room to feast.