Work Text:
Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing
Izuku Midoriya is so damn tired of this. He fights the urge to bang his head on his desk as he watches his coworker, a panther hybrid that has been in the company for just six months, receive a handshake from their boss to congratulate him on the promotion.
A promotion that should have been Izuku’s.
He’s been in the company for over five years; he’s the one who charmed the client whose project brought enough money to make their grumpy boss smile; he’s the one who spent so many nights awake making sure everything was perfect. And yet, just as so many times before, once the client goes away, happy with what they received, the one to receive all the glory is one of his carnivore coworkers.
It’s an all too common pattern that, as a ram hybrid, Izuku has seen since he was born. Carnivores are seen as go-getters, assertive, extroverts, passionate, decision-makers — while herbivores are seen as complacent, gentle, easy to manipulate, and overall not promotion material. And no matter how hard Izuku works, he can’t seem to ever break away from people’s preconceptions about herbivores.
And his coworkers all have a grand time teasing him for that.
“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, right, Midoriya?” Monoma, the annoying hyena hybrid, teases him. “But I suppose it makes sense. Who would want a sheep as a manager?”
Izuku glares daggers at him and hisses between his teeth, “I’m not a sheep. I’m a ram.”
But Monoma doesn’t mind his anger one bit.
“Better luck next time, cottontail,” he says, before walking away from Izuku’s desk.
“Cottontail is an insult to bunnies! It doesn’t even apply to sheep!” he protests to Monoma’s retreating back, but the hyena just laughs without even looking at him. “Argh!” Izuku screams in frustration, kicking the leg of his desk.
“Everything alright, Midoriya?” his boss asks, his bear hybrid fluffy ears turning to Izuku.
“Just peachy, sir!” he answers with a forced smile. “Just saw a bug!”
“You can ask the intern to deal with it. I know how you herbivores are squeamish about killing insects,” the boss says with his usual bored, tired tone.
Izuku’s smile strains even more, but luckily his boss has already turned away, back to his office, and doesn’t see it. As if Izuku would call the intern. The idiot is a seventeen-year-old leopard hybrid, basically a harassment report waiting to happen. Izuku would rather eat a goddamn bug before dealing with the stupid teenager who thinks he can make jokes about hunting whole herds.
The rest of the workday passes by as busy as always. And if the promotion isn’t enough, his coworkers all go out for drinks to celebrate — and purposefully forget to invite Izuku, because who would want a herbivore in a carnivores’ night out? And someone has to stay at the office to answer the e-mails of a client who loves to send work just as their business hours are ending, “You understand, right, Midoriya?”
It’s already 9 pm when Izuku gets home, after doing way more overtime than he’d have liked to. He’s tired and livid, a bad combo even in someone who prides himself on being as friendly and understanding as he is. He can’t shake off the idea that he needs to do something to change this situation. He doesn’t want to waste his whole life being overlooked and taken advantage of. Izuku knows he’s a great employee and will make a great manager one day — all he needs to do is make his boss and everyone in that company see it.
Izuku needs to be more assertive, more aggressive, more carnivore-like. And he will be. He’s too tired of just accepting his wretched luck. Tomorrow, Izuku will take serious steps to change his situation.
***
The very next day, Izuku begins looking for ways to become more assertive and aggressive, to empower himself. He checks out self-help books for herbivores (and gets annoyed because way too many of them talk about embracing their gentle nature) and even therapy (too expensive). But what really catches his attention is something totally unexpected — boxing classes.
Izuku has never thought of himself as a fighter; he was raised to be against any type of physical violence. Besides, martial arts are known for being carnivore-exclusive sports. Though there’s no law that forbids herbivores from participating, Izuku can imagine the outrage that a ram fighting would cause.
And that’s precisely why Izuku decides to join a boxing gym.
His coworkers and boss will be shocked, his friends and family will be confused, and, with any luck, Izuku will learn exactly how carnivores think. The best way to understand the enemy is to act like them, right? If Izuku wants to show the world he can be just as aggressive in the workplace as carnivores, he’ll need to foster his aggression in other situations as well.
Boxing is the martial arts chosen because, on his way home from work, Izuku passes by a gym and he saw an armadillo hybrid working. Armadillos aren’t technically herbivores, since they eat bugs and whatnot, but they’re a far cry from the usual lion boxer. Izuku is hopeful that the gym will be more welcoming for nontraditional students.
Reality, however, doesn’t match up to Izuku’s hopes.
“Oh no, dude! I’m just a receptionist! Still working my way up to be a full trainer!” the armadillo tells him with a bright smile that almost makes Izuku’s disappointment a bit less gloomy. “Bakugou is our trainer! You’re going to like him! Really cool dude!” Kirishima, as Izuku eventually finds out the armadillo is called, says.
Kirishima’s optimism as he schedules Izuku for classes is infectious. He makes sure the classes will work with Izuku’s hours and that he’ll have time by himself with the trainer since he’s a beginner. He also gives great tips about what clothes to wear for the exercises and things like that. So Izuku can be forgiven for, just a second, forgetting he is a ram about to join martial art classes and being simply, genuinely excited to start his classes.
But that comes crashing down the moment he meets Bakugou Katsuki, his trainer, a wolf hybrid.
“What the fuck is that? Who the hell let a fucking herbivore in the building? Did we run out of protein powder?” the huge, blond wolf barks towards the entrance where Kirishima is staged.
And every word out of his mouth makes Izuku wince.
“This is your new student, bro!” the armadillo says excitedly as if his ‘bro’ hasn’t just spewed the worst of dietary-prejudice hate. “Midoriya Izuku! I put his name on your schedule!”
“But you didn’t fucking say he’s a goddamn sheep!” Bakugou yells back. “What the hell am I supposed to teach him? Jumping fences on the ring's ropes?”
Izuku wants to run away. He wants to go home and pretend none of this ever happened, that he never thought he could join a carnivores' sport and be welcomed. But if he does that, he’ll be no better than what his boss and coworkers think of him. So, trembling like a leaf, he swallows the knot in his throat and speaks up.
“I-I’m he-here f-for b-b-bo-boxing lessons,” he stutters.
Bakugou turns to him, squinting, seemingly not believing Izuku actually talked to him. For a good while, the wolf just considers him — his pointy ears facing forward, his snout twitching, his red eyes piercing. It’s almost as if the wolf is deciding if he should kill Izuku for his insolence or if it isn’t worth bothering.
Finally, Bakugou shrugs. “Whatever. You want to learn, jump into the ring. But I’m not taking responsibility for what happens to you in there.”
In an effortless leap, Bakugou jumps to the platform where the ring is and over the ropes. Izuku takes a bit longer. Firstly, he takes off his shoes as he remembers Kirishima telling him his red sneakers could damage the ring’s padding. Then he goes up the little stairs on one of the ring’s corners, the clack of his hoofs echoing in the empty gym.
As he’s about to enter the ring, Kirishima offers him a thumbs up. Izuku crouches to go between the ropes, since he doesn’t want to give his trainer any more ammunition for ‘jumping fences’ jokes — and his horn gets hooked on the top rope, making him scramble to the floor in the most undignified way.
Loud laughter resounds through the small gym as his trainer literally bends in half, laughing from Izuku’s predicament. Izuku doesn’t know what he wants the most, to cry or to kick his trainer’s shin. Both options have their merits, but if Izuku leaves now, he won’t be able to come back. So he gets up, raises his head, and faces the wolf.
“I’m ready,” he says with as much confidence he can muster.
“Fine, Wooly. Let’s do it. At least it seems you’ll be entertaining,” Bakugou answers with a huge, wolfish grin.
Izuku isn’t sure he’ll survive these classes, but he refuses to give up.
***
Izuku doesn’t exactly have a love-hate relationship with Bakugou, but it’s not too far off that mark either. Maybe “begrudging respect and deep annoyance” are better ways to explain it.
“You’re fucking late, Wooly! You get your fluffy ass in here before I marinate it in red wine and slow roast it!” his trainer yells for everyone to hear the moment Izuku steps foot in the gym.
Bakugou always does that — it’s not enough for him to use the regular ‘I’m going to munch on your bones!’ threats carnivores so often like to use on herbivores. No, Bakugou is a fine dining connoisseur and describes with terrifying details exactly how he’d cook Izuku. And if that isn’t insulting enough, Bakugou uses lamb recipes. So goddamn offensive.
And yet, Izuku answers the same way as always, by nodding hastily and rushing towards the locker room to change into his training clothes. Once he’s ready, he marches to the ring with every bit of dignity and courage he can muster.
When he gets there, he hears another jab from Bakugou — “Shepherd didn’t let you off work on time?” — which Izuku ignores once again.
“Good afternoon, trainer! I’m ready for class!” he says with forced confidence.
It’s hard not to fight back, to complain, to run away to file a police report on harassment. And maybe he should do all these things. But, since Izuku stays strong and doesn’t, he’s rewarded with the best boxing class he could hope for.
“Get in position, let’s do a few warming punches,” Bakugou says seriously.
Izuku isn’t a particularly gifted fighter. He knows that, and Bakugou makes a point of telling him that every so often. But Bakugou also points out so many other things about Izuku’s fighting form that it’d be impossible for him not to learn something. The wolf doesn’t treat him with kid gloves, a very normal problem when it comes to carnivores. Bakugou always expects perfection from Izuku and makes sure to say it clearly when he doesn’t reach it.
“Raise your chin, or are your shitty horns too heavy? If you can’t keep your chin up, I’m gonna saw them off and mount them on my wall!”
It’s hard, but it’s rewarding. About a month into his classes, Izuku can already tell that his boxing form is so much better. He’s lighter on his feet, his punches reach the target, he dodges faster — and, most importantly, he feels more confident. It’s not much, probably most people haven’t even realized the change, but Izuku knows it’s there.
He knows it’s there because just yesterday, he was brave enough to send an e-mail inquiring why a coworker hadn’t turned in their part of the project with a copy to their boss. And he barely stuttered when someone asked him to stay longer today at work and he said he already had plans.
Boxing really is making the difference Izuku wants it to make, making him feel stronger and more confident. Or maybe it’s Bakugou. Maybe after facing Bakugou a few times every week, his coworkers don’t look as intimidating.
It’s not easy, though.
“Wooly! Move your fucking hooves or else I’ll call a farrier to fit you new shoes!”
‘I don’t wear shoes in the ring’ Izuku wants to answer, but he just nods again and gets ready for the next exercise.
“God knows you need them. Those shitty red sneakers are a fucking joke,” Bakugou continues, teasing him.
Yes. Deep annoyance is certainly a good way to describe Izuku’s feelings for his trainer.
***
Today has been rough. Actually, the last few days have been an absolute nightmare. Something went wrong with a project, the client threw a fit, and Izuku’s team was in charge of redoing everything from scratch.
This would already be a shitty situation, but there are even more aggravating factors. The first is that Izuku wasn’t involved in the original project that failed; the team of the original project didn’t move a muscle to help and barely sent them the data files needed to fix their mistake; and Izuku’s ‘team’ was basically just Izuku because his asshole coworkers thought themselves too good to work on a failed project.
So, in the end, Izuku had to pull a bunch of all-nighters and stay on his desk for way longer than any doctor would ever approve. And after the client left extremely pleased with their new project, he didn’t even receive a thank you from his boss. No, he, together with everyone in his department, had to listen to a long speech from his boss telling them how disappointed he was with all of them for ending up in that situation and that fixing it was the least they could do.
Izuku even attempted to tell his boss that he fixed it, he alone. But that only got him another short speech about how, as a herbivore, he should know no one is more important than the whole herd. It was so condescending and so wrong. They’re never a herd when they need to help each other out; no, in normal situations the bosses encourage people to follow the 'survival of the strongest’ law. But when Izuku had to do all the work by himself, then he should think of the herd. It makes him sick with fury.
That’s why, even though he’s exhausted, Izuku didn’t want to cancel his boxing class. He needed an excuse to hit something, even if it was just the punch pads Bakugou holds for him. However, Bakugou didn’t get the memo that Izuku isn’t in a good mood for his teasing that day.
“The hell happened to you? You look like a shitty zombie. Finally gave up on the grass and decided to eat brains?” he teases when Izuku gets to the gym a bit worse for wear.
“Hard day at work,” Izuku grumbles.
The wolf pokes fun at him. “How hard could it be? Your shepherd made you jump too many fences?”
Izuku does his best to keep his mouth shut and just trails to the locker room to put on his training clothes, trying to remain calm. He can’t blow off his frustrations on his trainer. Bakugou is an asshole, but he’s not the assholes back at his job. Izuku should just keep to himself and enjoy the exercises to release some stress.
In the ring, however, Bakugou is relentless. Izuku is tired, so his movements are slow and sluggish, something his trainer will never approve of.
“Wake up, Pie Face! You’re fucking sleeping on your feet! Had to do a herd headcount today?”
“If you don’t move your shitty legs, I’ll make some yakitori out of them! It’s gonna be very nice to barbecue you with a bit of lemon!”
“You better raise your fucking arms if you don’t want to be in tomorrow’s curry!”
Izuku should be used to Bakugou’s very much not-funny and very offensive jokes by now. And overall, he is. But today… today he’s pretty much done with people walking all over him. And Bakugou is really testing his patience with his string of offenses towards Izuku when he’s doing his best, even though he’s dead on his feet.
The situation comes to a boiling point when Izuku misses a punch, trips on his feet, and falls on his ass — and Bakugou blows up on him for it.
“For fuck’s sake, Wooly!” Bakugou yells angrily. “Why the hell did you come at all if you’re just going to make us all look bad? I’m already teaching fucking prey, you could at least make it worth my time!”
“What did you just call me?” Izuku hisses.
He knows what he was just called, but he dares Bakugou to say it again. The word “prey” used to be a very common term about a century ago, but many are pushing for it to be defined as a slur now because it’s only used as a derogatory term to make herbivores feel inferior and afraid. Izuku is fiercely against the use of the word, and his tone should have indicated as much. Too bad Bakugou doesn’t know when to quit.
“I called you what you are. Prey.”
The insufferable, victorious glint in Bakugou’s eye and the way he says that word knowing full well that he’ll never receive any reprisal for it makes Izuku’s blood boil. He’s had enough of these stupid carnivores treating him like shit. He’s just done.
And without permission of his brain, Izuku punches Bakugou straight on his nose.
“Ah!” Bakugou cries in pain, bringing his hands to his nose as he doubles over.
Izuku looks at the scene in complete surprise, not believing what he just did. He punched Bakugou. He punched a wolf! His trainer!
Blood drips on the floor from what must be a broken nose, pulling Izuku out of his stupor.
Oh shit, he punched Bakugou.
“I- I-” he stutters, not knowing what to say, before turning on his heels and running away from the crime scene.
Izuku’s instincts of ‘fight or flight’ have kicked in and they’ve decided Izuku shouldn’t stick around to find out if he can fight the professional boxer wolf that is about twice his size. He barely takes the time to grab his phone and water bottle on the bench before rushing away from the gym, shoeless hooves clacking on the stone floor.
***
After punching his instructor, Izuku’s plan was to never again set foot in the gym. He was sure that extreme levels of bodily harm awaited him if he ever meets Bakugou again. However, when he left in a rush that day, he forgot not only his suit but also his red sneakers in the gym’s locker. Izuku can’t lose a whole suit and his favorite sneakers like that; those things cost money.
Now, his plan is to sneak into the gym when Bakugou is too busy doing something else, grab the suit and make a run for it. He knows it’s not a very solid plan, but he honestly can’t think of anything else. He’s been stalking the gym every day after leaving work this week, trying to find an opening, but Bakugou always seems to be around.
So, when he sees Bakugou yelling to Kirishima that he’s going to buy some tea and leaving the gym, Izuku makes his move.
As fast as his hooved feet can take him, Izuku rushes through the front door, not even bothering to greet Kirishima, and enters the locker room. There, Izuku goes straight for his usual locker, and… finds nothing. The locker is empty.
Agitated, Izuku opens up a couple of lockers around his usual one, hoping he just picked the wrong door, but with no luck. His suit isn’t there, nor his sneakers. Izuku’s mind rushes with options, trying to come up with a solution. Maybe he could talk to Kirishima-
“Are you looking for this?” Bakugou’s voice sounds from behind him, making Izuku freeze in place.
Slowly, he turns around and sees Bakugou holding a bag that must contain his things. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Izuku doesn’t dare to make a sound or move, too stunned in his panic. Is this how he dies?
“Take it. We took it out of the locker so it wouldn’t go missing,” Bakugou grunts, offering Izuku the bag.
Still feeling like any sudden movement could set the carnivore off, Izuku very slowly grabs his things. When he has the bag secured in his hands, his eyes dart towards the door behind Bakugou. Now all he needs to do is to make a run for it…
“I’m sorry.” Bakugou’s words interrupt Izuku’s planning. He looks back at the wolf, confused. Sorry? “Shouldn’t have called you… that. Kirishima chewed my ear off later. I knew it was a bad word but didn’t think you’d take it so seriously since you always took my teasing well.”
“It’s a slur,” Izuku mumbles. “Used to make us feel afraid. It’s not right.”
“Yeah… I know that now. Not gonna say it anymore,” Bakugou says with a sincere expression that stirs something inside Izuku. The wolf’s ears are down and his whole demeanor says ‘puppy who got caught eating a shoe’. It’s terribly cute for someone so intimidating. “In my defense, I didn’t think anything could make you feel afraid.”
“You said so yourself, that I’m a sheep,” Izuku says, shrugging.
“And you always correct me saying you’re a ram. You’re always facing me, no matter what I throw at you in the ring or out of it. I respect that… even if I don’t always show it.”
“You do?” Izuku’s voice fills with hope. It feels so good to be acknowledged by someone like Bakugou.
“Of course,” Bakugou clicks his tongue. “I mean, you could get your way with people just by being the cute little thing that you are, but you don’t. You work hard, and you even started boxing. That’s badass.”
Surprised, Izuku asks, “You think I’m cute?”
And to surprise him even more, Bakugou blushes a bright red and averts his eyes like a schoolboy with a crush.
“I- I mean, shit- Yeah? You’re stinking cute, everyone can see that. It’s not like I was noticing or anything. You just have this dumb fluffy hair and the curly horns and-” Bakugou stumbles awkwardly over his words and gets really flustered about it. It’s adorable. What’s not so adorable is how he diverts his embarrassment with anger. “You know fucking what, Deku? You’ve been skipping training for way too long! Get your fluffy butt up in that ring now, or else I’ll fucking mince you and put you in a pie!”
Emboldened by this new side of his trainer he just discovered, Izuku teases, “Still with this obsession with eating me, Bakugou? I might let you have a taste sometime if you keep this up.”
And that makes Bakugou lose his cool completely. The wolf’s eyes grow huge and he chokes on his own saliva. He almost coughs up a lung and then kicks the metal locker with his toe, making him jump around in pain.
Izuku holds in his chuckles as he passes by the blond, but doesn’t resist teasing him one last time. “See you in the ring, trainer.”
***
Never before in his life has Izuku felt so powerful. It’s incredible, almost addicting. No wonder so many people go crazy with hunger for it. Izuku would like to say that he’s better, that once he was given power, he didn’t abuse it — but that would be a lie. Izuku is abusing it a lot.
“Oh, I dropped it!” he says when his loose fingers let his water bottle fall on the floor.
Then, with dramatic movements, he bends over to pick it up. The effect is immediate: he hears a loud thump and a painful groan.
“Woof- fuck!” Bakugou curses.
“Bro! Are you alright? I thought you’d dodge that!” Kirishima says apologetically.
Izuku bites back a chuckle, watching the flushed face of the wolf hybrid reach new shades of red. This has been happening since Izuku found out about his trainer’s real opinion of him. Izuku probably shouldn’t take so much joy in abusing this newfound power, but it’s too good to resist.
“What-fucking-ever. Your time is up anyway. Go back to the reception desk,” he growls, reaching for his water bottle.
Kirishima thanks Bakugou for the session and jumps out of the ring.
“Hey, Midoriya! Time for your class now?” the armadillo hybrid greets him.
“Hi, Kirishima! Yes! I can’t leave Bakugou waiting!”
“Have fun!” Kirishima waves at him, walking back to his place by the door.
When Izuku gets up in the ring, Bakugou is still drinking water and doesn’t seem to realize he has company. Again, power goes to Izuku’s head and he quietly creeps closer to his trainer.
“Good afternoon, Kacchan,” he chirps when he’s close enough.
And again, his attack brings fruition. Bakugou chokes on his water and almost spits it all on the mat.
“What the fuck?! You fucking little wool ball! Where did you come from and what the hell did you just call me?” he barks, furious.
But Izuku knows better than to be afraid of the wolf’s fury anymore. He knows it’s just a façade the wolf wears to not let anyone see what’s underneath. Too bad for him, Izuku knows very well what’s there under the layers of angry growls and loud barks.
“I called you Kacchan! Isn’t it cute? I figured I had to give you a nickname as well since you’re always calling me nicknames,” Izuku says with his best, sweetest smile.
“Get in position so I can knock some sense into your wooly head,” Bakugou grumbles, raising his fists to show their training is about to start.
Before, Izuku might be afraid the wolf would actually hurt him — but now he knows it’s all bark with no bite. Bakugou is always very careful when they train and makes sure to show perfect movements without any strength behind them. So, Izuku is still giggling when they start trading punches.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Bakugou grumbles when they take a step back from a series of attacks.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re all happy and… gross,” he says, sounding like a kid.
Honestly, Izuku has no idea how he was afraid of Bakugou before. Now he sees the wolf for who he truly is and it’s adorable.
“I had a good day at work,” Izuku answers. Not the whole truth, but not a lie either.
“Yeah?”
“Yes! Managed to get my boss to compliment me in front of everyone,” he says proudly, raising his arms in a defensive position when Bakugou charges again.
“So I guess it’s working, hm?”
“What?”
“You started the classes to be more badass at work. I heard you talking to Shitty Hair,” Bakugou says, making sure Izuku follows the choreographed series of punches and dodges.
“Oh, yeah! I mean, it’s getting better? I still have a long way to go, but I’m getting there!” Izuku says happily as he manages to keep up with his trainer.
“Gotta train harder, then. Go for the throat,” Bakugou says, throwing a fast punch that Izuku dodges perfectly. “Get what you want.”
“Get what I want? Even though I’m a herbivore?” Izuku asks before returning the punch.
Bakugou clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Shouldn’t let some shit like what you eat define what you want. I thought you knew that already.”
“Oh, I know that.” Izuku smiles after dodging a few sequential punches. “I just wanted to be sure we’re on the same page.”
“I’m not gonna argue that you should go for what you want,” Bakugou says with a shrug.
“Great! Then we’re going on a date this Saturday,” Izuku says before throwing a punch — which lands right on Bakugou’s nose.
“Woof-!” the wolf groans in pain, holding his nose.
“Oh my God! I’m sorry!” Izuku fusses, completely breaking his form. “I-I thought you’d dodge! You always dodge!”
“Don’t fucking apologize for landing a good punch,” Bakugou says, shaking his head.
Izuku smiles. “And for inviting you on a date?”
“That… that too. We can do it, this date shit. Yeah. Saturday. It works or whatever,” Bakugou answers, his face growing much redder than it normally would from the exercise.
“Great! I can’t wait!” Izuku cheers.
“But don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because of it! You better train like you mean it, Wooly!”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else, Kacchan,” he says with a sweet smile — just to see Bakugou trip on his feet.
Oh, how Izuku likes being assertive like a carnivore.