Cath

Your lonely upbringing led to you making friends with most people you came across, but your even matchup with Shouto all those years ago had you gravitating towards each other from the get-go. Your easy, fiery personality melted his cold, icy heart and it wasn’t long before you were study buddies, training partners. 

You graduated high school together, entered university together. It wasn’t only huge milestones like those that you shared and bonded through, but simple things like going to movies with friends, bar-hopping; hell, you even organized a surprise birthday party for him at the beginning of year and invited everyone he’d formed friendships with over the years.

Including Momo, which you were kinda (very) bitter about at the time. 

A shiver runs over your skin and you wrap your arms around yourself, glancing over at a very animated Denki as he explains the importance of nu-metal to Shouto. 

Shouto with his two-toned hair and heterochromic eyes, with his fire and his ice, with his inability to read the room and lack of tact. You’d opened up to him about being an only child and having parents that worked away constantly, and he told you about his mum, why he hated his dad so much. Even so, he’d had his dad design you a suit that could withstand the even hottest flames, despite the fact that he never went out of his way to talk to him.

You were best friends.

It’s not his fault that you were – until yesterday— in love (was it love, really?) with him, and he didn’t feel the same. Not his fault that you felt you needed to distance yourself from him. What was his fault was the accusation that the guy you’d fallen for wasn’t genuine.

And he hadn’t even said anything about it to your face.

Why didn’t he say anything to you?

What you feel for Bakugo isn’t the same as what you felt for Shouto. For him, there was longing; there were schoolgirl fantasies of picket fences and weddings and two spoons for one dessert. Of a family with two kids and a dog and a cheesy adult life together. With Bakugo, it’s different. You want to touch him, hold him, feel him. You’ve fallen for his eyes, the dangerous way he looks at you, and his hands, how they feel on you, the size of yours in his; the way he speaks to you, calms you, treats you like you’re more than a crush. It’s now and it’s real, and you’re exploring it together.

You hold your cold fingers against your burning cheeks as you scan the group for him.

He’s looking at you from where he’s walking, a little bit ahead of you, and you speed up to catch him.

“You okay?” He mumbles, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his boardshorts. You resist the urge to drape yourself against him, the naked skin of his back and chest, swells and dips of his muscled arms. You hum a yes, but your eyes are on the ground. “Right, seems like you’re fucking swell.” His sarcasm is comforting, you knock him with your hip.

“Thinking about you.” Your words leave your lips in a sigh, and he arches a brow at you. It wasn’t a lie, not really. “You’re nice to me.” You smile, holding your forearms behind your back.

“Yeah?” He’s intrigued by your admission, probably more confused than anything. “Why are you thinking about that right now?”

“I told the girls I liked you, and they were confused. Apparently, you’re mean.” You shrug.

“Huh.” He raises his eyebrows, doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t ask why. He’s oddly calm.

“You don’t care that I told them?” You frown.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say anything.” You grumble childishly, he chuckles.

“What the hell do you want me to say?” He asks softly, drapes an arm over your shoulders, pulls you against him.

You’re sure you stop breathing. You look up at him, but he’s looking ahead— or pointedly avoiding your gaze, you’re not sure. It’s strange how natural it feels, and you smile despite yourself, pull your bottom lip between your teeth and take a breath in through your nose.

The air is cool, but you’re warm, heart beating sporadically in your chest as you walk through the woods, tucked under Bakugo’s arm. It’s peaceful, calm—

“Oi,” Eijiro calls, jogging up to fall into step next to you. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell your best friend that you’ve got a girlfriend.” He complains with a whiny sigh. “Unmanly, Kastuki.”

“Want me to tell you when I take a fucking dump too, dumbass?” Bakugo growls, pulls you closer. “It’s none of your fucking business.” He reiterates.

“I’m your best friend.” He complains, sets his eyes on you. They trail down your neck to your chest where your jacket is unzipped “I like your swimsuit.” He winks, and you flinch as Bakugo holds up a palm, sends off an explosion in his direction.

“Bakugo!” You scold, hide against his chest to shield your eyes.

But Eijiro’s ready for it, used to it, it seems. He simply dodges, flashes you a knowing smile. “Be gentle with him, he’s sensitive.” He winks, again.

“Fuck off, fuckface!” Bakugo yells, and with a laugh, Eijiro jogs back to Kaminari and the group of teens watching the interaction. Kyoka flashes you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes with a grin.

After a few moments, you look up at him. “You didn’t correct him when he called me your girlfriend.”

“You already said you’d be mine.” He shrugs. “If you don’t wanna put a damn label on it, we don’t have to.” His red eyes are looking down at you, ready for a response.

“No, I…” You make it out of the trees and onto the sand, see Aizawa in the distance with a huge bonfire ready to light. Bakugo stops walking, holds you close as your classmates walk past, shouts profanities at anyone who stares too long.

Shouto doesn’t look as he passes.

Your stomach knots up, and you snake an arm around Bakugo’s waist, pull yourself closer to him. He’s warm, and it’s comforting, solid and stable.

The sun is setting oranges and pinks and purples and blues in the sky, reflecting like molasses against the serene waves of the water. Higher in the sky, the moon’s already out, stars twinkling as twilight threatens to take over the sunset.

You don’t want to move, just want to stay under his arm, looking at the sky forever.

“D’ya wanna be my girlfriend?” He asks quietly, and when you look at him, he’s blushing, watching the sun set in the distance. You watch him for a minute, revel in the serenity of the moment; then you stretch up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“If it means you’re gonna be defending my honour, then yes.” You grin. His eyes flash down to your body, the curves of your torso, your bikini top. He bites his lip.

“Among other things.” He says lowly, voice husky as his free hand comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb drawing along your collarbone, nudging the jacket from your shoulder. “Your swimsuit,” His eyes are watching his fingers trace the orange piping of one of the triangles.

You shiver, and you’re sure nipple beads under his touch; your whole face heats up. “H-happy coincidence.” You whisper, the same twisty, fluttering feeling in your stomach returning.

He hums, lips descend to your neck. “Happy indeed.”

“Oi!” Eijiro yells from a distance. “We’re waiting!”

Bakugo huffs a sigh, kisses your neck gently. “To be continued.” He mumbles, nuzzling your ear with his nose, sending another shiver up your spine. He zips up your jacket—all the way to the top—zipper tickling your chin.

“Okay.” You laugh, step away from him and drag your hand down his arm, linking your fingers. A shy smile grows on your face as you lead him over to the group, Aizawa is staring at the pair of you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s this? A couple? In my camp? I give you all far too much freedom.” He grumbles, and Bakugo squeezes your hand. Kyoka pokes you in the arm, waggles her eyebrows when you look at her. “We’ve been cut short.” He says, sighing. “We’re heading back tomorrow because of reasons out of my control, so I’ve put on a party for you.”

“A party?” Deku gasps, chatter ensues.

“But!” Aizawa calls over the noise. “I have a speech that you have to listen to before I go.” His eyes briefly shift to you and Bakugo, then to some of the other students. “I understand that youth is… exciting.”

“Sensei, please.” Kaminari groans. “Not the birds and the bees.”

He ignores him. “You’re making friends, dating, being young.” He takes a pause, for the drama, probably. “But for you, life after university doesn’t entail boring office jobs or climbing the corporate ladder, does it?” You glance around, everyone looks as confused as you. “You will be heroes. I know about your job offers. Four of you have offers overseas, the rest of you have at least one offer here.”

You see where this is going. The cool wind on the beach picks up, and you pull your hand from Bakugo’s grip to fold your arms.

“You’re bound to get even more offers come graduation.” He continues, takes a deep breath. “It’s going to be exciting and new, and although the bonds you create here will be lasting, they’ll be… interrupted.” He rubs his face, tucks some hair behind his ear. “What I’m trying to drive home is this: don’t let the bonds you have affect your journey. Don’t take an offer with a lesser company because your best friend is close by, or your girlfriend doesn’t want you to leave the country.”

You feel that last one like a slap in the face.

Suddenly the vague tidbit of gossip about Bakugo heading to the U.S after graduation is in the forefront of your brain.

There’s a heavy silence, and your stomach is in your throat. You want to look up at Bakugo, gauge his reaction, but you’re frozen.

“Well, just something to think about, I guess.” His tone lightens, and he picks up some bags. “I got takeout. Cooler is full of drinks, but please—for my sanity—don’t drink too much; All Might’s the one who put the deposit down on the cabin and it wasn’t cheap.” He hands a bag to you, one to Kyoka, two to Iida, and trudges off.

There’s a stunned silence, until Bakugo takes the bag from you, opens it and digs some containers out.

“I’m gonna have this one,” he says, holds it out for you to take. “What do you want?” Kaminari and Eijiro flank Kyoka for food and there’s chatter where Iida’s trying to fairly assign containers.

“Uh, the same?” Your voice is small, and he sends you a pointed glare. You cave, tell him your favourite take out dish, and he fishes it out, hands the bag to Deku.

“Come with me.” He grabs your hand, drags you towards the water’s edge. He sits, and you follow suit.

“Look, if you—”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, pokes you in the forehead.  “I like you, you like me. Don’t fucking listen to him.”

“But—”

“If you don’t wanna do this, we won’t.” He frowns, rests a wrist on a propped-up knee.

“I do!” You argue, pout. He grins, leans over and kisses your lips.

“Then we’re doin’ it.” He takes his container from your hand, replaces it with yours.

You glance down at the food, his hands. “You forgot utensils.” He realises it as you say it, frowns over at you, embarrassed, then bounds up, heads back to the group. You follow him with the food, a little anxious at your classmate’s reactions to the PDA, but mostly everyone is busy, itching to eat something.

Shouto is crouching by the unlit bonfire, left pointer finger pointed at the base as if he wants to light it. He feels your eyes, turns, and you give him a small grin and a wave. He sends you a tight smile and turns away.

“Here,” Bakugo hands you a pair of chopsticks, follows your line of sight.

“He hates me.” You sigh, glance up at him. “Not that you care.”

“I care. I just don’t want the fucker getting between us.” He sends Shouto’s back a glare of his own, and nods towards Deku and Kaminari, who are sitting on a log with Kirishima and Sero; Kyoka’s on a towel in front of them. “Wanna sit with your friends?”

“They’re your friends, too.” You roll your eyes, lead the way over to them.

“Eh, I put up with Eiji for reasons unknown.” He shrugs, but you gasp at the nickname.

“Eiji?”

“Shut up.” He glares, but you just laugh, fall down onto Kyoka’s towel next to her.

“Hey.” You chirp, conversation stops. You get the feeling that if Bakugo wasn’t sitting down on the log next to Kaminari, that you’d be met with a thousand questions.

“Hey?” Kyoka scoffs, eyeing you with a raised brow.

“Yeah, can’t come over here holding hands and expect us not to ask questions.” Eijiro gets up, slides between Kaminari and Bakugo, nudges Bakugo, almost knocks him off the log.

“Fuckin’ shitty—” He grumbles, but you cut him off.

“Ask away.” You shrug, opening your takeaway box and hiding a smile behind it. They jump on you.

“How?” Kirishima.

“Why?” Sero.

“When?” Deku.

“What exactly is it about this guy that you like?” Kirishima asks again, and you feel all eyes on you. All questions directed at you.

“Ah, well,” you did offer for them to ask you. Bakugo’s eating, but you can tell he’s just as interested in your answers as everyone else. “Look at him.” You shrug.

There’s a burst of laughter and Denki and Sero are complaining.

“You can’t do that! You can’t just fall back on looks! He’s looked like that for years.” Denki complains, annoyed.

“Yeah, we wanna know what he did to finally bag you.” Sero grins, and Bakugo bristles.

Finally?

The boys on the log all see your confusion, and they glance at Bakugo, who is busying himself with his food.

“You didn’t tell her?” Eijiro asks, but Bakugo says nothing, shoves a lump of chicken into his mouth and looks out at the water.

“Tell me what?” You’re suspicious now, but it doesn’t outweigh your hunger. You hoe down another mouthful of food.

“He’s liked you since high school, that’s what.” The red head laughs. But it can’t be right, because the whole reason this thing with him started was because—

“I told you I didn’t like her like that.” He says, reading your thoughts as he waves his chopsticks in your direction. “Your imagination is fuckin’ wild.”

Eijiro ignores the interaction between the two of you. “Yeah, remember in our final year’s sport’s festival when you turned into a human torch and your clothes—” Disintegrated. 

“Okay, okay, yeah, I don’t want to remember that.” You laugh, whole body heating up in embarrassment.

“You’re making me sound like a fucking pervert, it wasn’t because she was naked that I fucking—you know what? I don’t need—” Bakugo’s getting flustered, and you’re enjoying every second. “Just fucking drop it, or I’ll kill you.”

“Technically, Cementoss cubed her in before anyone could see anything anyway.” Kyoka adds, thumbing in your direction. “But you’re telling me that you knew, and you didn’t tell me?” She glares at Denki then, who jumps in shock at her accusation.

“He said he’d kill me!” He defends dramatically.

Your attention creeps back to your boyfriend—you’ll need to get used to calling him that—and you watch him as he eats, looks out to the ocean, steals a glance at you. You grin at him, and he blushes, rolls his eyes.

The rest of the class find their way to the adjoining logs, towels are laid down for the students that were too slow, as everyone sits down to enjoy the food. When the food’s gone—Iida, Izuku and Bakugo eat thirds—Denki rushes back to the house with Kyoka to get her hero boots—for music, of course—and chatter ensues.

Mostly about you and Bakugo.

Go figure.

“Come for a walk.” Bakugo holds his hand out for you to take, and you grab it. Then you’re slipping off your sandals and walking along the edge of the water, bathed by the last light of the barely there sun.

You chuckle, he glances down at you, brow arched in a silent ‘what?’. “You really like me.” You laugh, poking him in the stomach. “How embarrassing!”

“Wow.” He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Really mature.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You ask, watching as the water runs up to cover your feet, sand tickling the tops of them.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.” He grumbles, looks up at the stars.

“Katsuki,” You smile, testing his name on your lips as you turn to him, cover your joined hands with your free one. “Kiss me.” You demand gently, propping up on your tippy toes, and licking your lips.

He doesn’t reply, just covers your mouth with his, presses a hand to the back of your neck. You drop his hands and run your fingers through his hair, hum against his lips as his other hand dips under your jacket and runs up your back.

With a surprising push, you tumble the both of you down onto the sand, laughing. You’re straddling him, running your hands down his torso, lips on his throat as he reaches for the lip of your zipper, runs it all the way down until your jacket’s open.

He breathes your name and you stop, push back to meet his eyes. “I, uh,” he starts, staring up at you; he pushes some hair from your face and runs his thumb along your wet bottom lip. “I’m not just… second best, right?” He says it so softly, you’re not sure it’d even come out of his mouth.

“No.” You frown. What? “No way.” You’re torn between being sad for him—it’d take a lot for him to ask—and being offended that he felt you’re ingenuine.

“Fuck, it’s just,” he breathes, drags his hand down his face. “I’m not used to this, and I’ve wanted you for a really fucking long time, so…”

“It’s okay,” You mumble, lean down to kiss his forehead. “I’m here.” His nose. “Touch me.” His lips. You look into his eyes for a brief moment, then his kissing you hungrily, hands in your hair, leaving you breathless.

+

“Okay you two, that’s enough!” Mina yells. You take your lips from Bakugo’s neck and sit up, send her a glare that she probably can’t see. The sun’s completely gone now, moon high up in the sky surrounded by the kind of stars you can only see out by the countryside. It’s nothing like being in the deep smog of the city.

Bakugo gropes your butt over your swimmers. “I’m not done.” He grumbles lowly. You laugh down at him, pinch one of his pretty pink nipples. “Oi—”

“Come on!” She yells, closer. “Geez, I can’t believe I’ve gotta find out about you two from Denki. Denki! I thought we were friends.” She rants, closer. You hop off of Bakugo, dust the sand from your knees and calves.

“I’m sorry, it’s kind of a sudden thing—”

“Why the fuck are you screaming at us to come back?” Bakugo snaps, turning his back to Mina, adjusting his… oh. You laugh and link arms with her, hold your hand out for him to take when he’s ready—which he does. It’s nice to hold his hand. Good to just be touching him.

“We’re about to light the bonfire, and y’know, who better to do it?” Mina sighs, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“Uh, Shouto?” You snort.

“Don’t know where he is. He took off with Momo and they’re not on the beach; Tsu said not to bother with looking for them.” She shrugs as the three of you trudge up the beach, through the soft, dry sand.

“Couldn’t have pretended you couldn’t see us, though? Fucking figures.” Bakugo mumbles, and you squeeze his hand, send him a smile over your shoulder.

“Shut up, stop being such an asshole.” Mina grumbles. A few of your friends cheer upon your arrival.

“Fire time!” Denki announces, bouncing up from the log he was perched by Kyoka on. “Okay, Fire Princess, light us up!” He does a jiggy dance, points dramatically at the fire. Mina jogs over to sit next to Toru, and Bakugo rests his chin on your shoulder.

“C’mon, Fire Princess, we’ve got things to do.” He whispers in your ear.

“Are you ‘things’?” You laugh, raise an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. You laugh and shake him off, move closer to the huge mound of logs and sticks and kindling, crouch at the base. Generally, you’d use your hands to shoot the fire, but you’d been training on something you called ‘dragon technique’ lately, and—if it didn’t get out of control—it’d look really fucking sick.

You pick a spot right at the centre of the base, between the logs and sticks, and—like blowing out a candle—you purse your lips and blow, the flames hitting their target with ease. Your friends cheer, and you shoot a look back at Bakugo as you tuck some hair behind your ear.

Like any normal fire without petrol, it takes a while to grow in size, but it doesn’t matter. Bakugo lays his towel out and you drape yourself between his legs, both of you watching the fire grow —and Ochako and Mina dancing in front of it—as Kyoka plays some pop/rock song that she’s been ‘totally obsessed with lately’ from her boots.

“Here!” Kirishima grins, throws you both a drink. You sit up to catch yours, the other one whooshes past your head and into Bakugo’s hand.

It’s beer. 

“I don’t know if you drinking is the best idea.” Bakugo says lowly in your ear, reaching over to pluck it out of your hands. “Remember last time?”

“Last time?” Eijiro butts in, looking at you quizzically.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, boring story.” You laugh, toss a look over your shoulder at Bakugo, who’s drinking your beer, Adam’s apple bobbing.

You glance around and find Momo sitting with Mineta and Tokoyami, beers in their hands, no Shouto in sight, which is strange until,

“Can I have a word?” You look up and see Shouto, standing over you and Bakugo. God, he’s so fucking quiet, like a ninja. You feel Bakugo tense behind you, so you pinch his thigh.

“Yeah, of course.” You smile, moving to get up. Before you’re at full height, Bakugo grabs your jacket, pulls you down by the collar to plant a kiss on your lips.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see the pleading look in his eyes; it shoots into your heart like an arrow.

“Be right back.” You smile, trying to reassure him, then you ruffle his hair and follow after Shouto, who must have walked off the moment Bakugo kissed you.

It’s quiet, besides the music thumping in the background. Serene.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, looking up at the moon. You follow his line of sight, take in the glowing orb, shadowy craters scattering its surface. When you don’t say anything, he elaborates. “I didn’t think of your feelings, or Momo’s. I can…” He takes a breath, huffs a sigh. “I can tell you like him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you, so—”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, you’re making it weird.” You laugh, the weight of the past few days falling off of your shoulders. It's embarrassing how a few simple words could completely diffuse the situation.

“Bakugo seems to really like you, but if he ever hurts you, I’ll kill him.” He says seriously, stopping in his tracks, looking down at you.

“I think I’ll be okay, Shouto.” You smile. You hold out your arms for a hug, but when he steps closer, there’s a loud whistle.

You both look to see Bakugo watching, arms crossed over his chest. “TWO FUCKING FEET APART!” He yells, Kirishima chuckles into a fist next to him.

Shouto retracts his step, shakes his head with a smile. “As long as you don’t hate me.” He rests a hand on top of your head, smiles and takes it off.

“I don’t think I could, to be honest.” You beam up at him.  And it’s the truth, he’d always hold a special place in your heart: the first love, the best friend. “C’mon, you need to go thank your girlfriend for making you a better person.” You nod towards the group, see Bakugo sit back on the towel in the distance.

“True, true.” He runs a hand through his hair, turns and begins walking you back to the group. “So, you’ll keep training with me?” He asks, almost a mumble.

“I… I hadn’t thought about stopping that, Shouto.” You say, brows furrowed. You usually spend holidays with the Todoroki’s, with your parents generally gone during them. Gone almost always.

Last year, you even spent Christmas with them.

Endeavour even called you the morning of your birthday.

“Good. Endeavour would be… disappointed.” He says slowly, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head.

You snort. “You mean, I wouldn’t be the buffer?” Endeavour treats you well to impress his youngest son; you know this, he knows this, his siblings know this. You elbow him. “I’m not stupid, Shouto.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles nervously, mildly ashamed. “I mean… thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Okay.” He smiles as you walk back up to Bakugo and Kirishima. “Have a good night.” He calls, gives you one last smile, then scans the group for Momo, heads to her.

The sand crushes beneath your feet, gets between your toes. “Hey,” you call with a smile. Bakugo downs the rest of his beer and smashes the can, tosses it beside another one—also reduced to a misshapen tin ball. “Whoa, slow down, sexy; the night is still young.” You laugh, plant yourself in his lap.

“What, you’re not running off into the sunset with the man of your dreams?” He asks gruffly, signature scowl on his face.

You know he means Shouto, but you wrap your arms around Bakugo’s neck regardless. “No, I’m sitting on his lap while he makes listless accusations.”

“Ooh, big words.” His eyebrows disappear into his hairline, hands grab at your naked thighs.

“Big words for a big girl.” You grin back proudly, leaning up to press your lips to his. “Your girl, Mr I-Need-Constant-Validation.” Your hands sprawl over his chest, feeling the hard muscle, as his face flushes pink and he pouts.

“That’s not true.” He scoffs. You laugh and kiss him again, and Kirishima clears his throat. You pull away, embarrassed, and look over to him.

“Just want you to know that I’m still here.” He chuckles bashfully, flashing his razor-sharp teeth at you in a grin.

“Sorry—”

“Maybe you should leave then, idiot.” Bakugo snaps at him, eyes still on you.

“Mean.” You pout. “He’s your bestie.”

“I don’t see yours hovering around.” He says against your lips.

“I’m still here.” He groans, and you kiss again. “Alright, consider me gone.” He shakes his head with a slight laugh, springs up from his spot on the sand, mutters something as he walks away.

Bakugo actually laughs, and it’s so smooth and reassuring that you lean in for another kiss, drape yourself all over him. “I think… we need to ditch this party.” He whispers. 

You agree, but deep down you know bonding with the group is important, especially now with graduation looming overhead. “The party just started! And Aizawa got us beer.”

“And vodka.” Kyoka announces her arrival, Bakugo groans. “Hey to you too, asshat.” She smiles, joins you on the towel, hands you a can.

“Thanks.” You smile. 

Bakugo lifts you from his lap, places you easily next to Kyoka. “I’ll go get my own drink.” He says, sends your friend a glare, and trudges off.

“I know Denki’s an idiot, but that guy? Hard work.” She laughs, takes a sip. “Probably cranky because he’s up past his bedtime.”

You laugh, watch him as he approaches Momo and Shouto. “Ah, he puts up a front. Once you get past his hard exterior, he’s a softie.” You smile, turning back to her. She snorts. “He is!”

“Oh god, you really like him. Like, a lot.” She accuses, whacking your shoulder.

Yeah. Yeah, you do. It’s kinda scary, and Aizawa’s words ring back through your mind.

“Do you and Denki know what you’re doing after UA?” You ask, changing the subject, curious about what they’d discussed. As a couple.

“Hm? Ah, every time I bring it up, he gets upset.” She sighs, shakes her head.

“Really?” You take your first sip of the vodka, cringe at the sweetness as it hits your tongue.

“Mm.” She nods, lays down and rests her head on your lap. “We had another argument about it when we went back to camp to get my boots.” You smile sympathetically down at her, dust her bangs from her forehead with your fingers. “I actually have a lot of offers, mostly spy work, but still. He… he’s upset about it. Doesn’t want me to go too far.”

“That’s sweet, isn’t it? You sound annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.” She frowns, tries to drink from her can laying down, but it dribbles from the side of her mouth, down your thigh, and you squeak, jolt at the cold.

“Shit!” You yelp, and she chokes on her drink as she laughs, and more splutters over your lap and your jacket as she struggles to sit up. “Kyoka!”

 “I’m sorry!” She laughs, wipes tears from her eyes and vodka from her mouth.

“Get up, we’re going in the water.” You say, standing up, wiping at the rivulets running down your legs.

“Oh, no I’m not. It’s cold as fuck.” She frowns, swats your hands away as you try to grab her.

“Yes, you are! Come on, we’re at a beach!” You argue, stand to unzip your jacket, shrug it from your shoulders and let it fall to the towel. “Get up, Kyoka.” You’re pleading, now, hell-bent on getting in the water.

A low whistle travels through the air, just loud enough for you to hear over the music. You look around and see Mineta sitting on a towel not too far away, staring at you. He winks at you, and you bristle, your eye twitches in annoyance. But before you can chew him out, the menacing presence of your new boyfriend fills the air, and his hands are splaying over your stomach, his red eyes glaring at your pervy classmate.

“You like your eyes in their sockets, asshat?” He asks, just loud enough for Mineta to hear. He pales, swallows, and nods. “Then keep them off my girlfriend.”

It’s in that moment that you decide Bakugo’s scarier when he doesn’t swear. Its menacing, bone-chilling.

He reaches down for your jacket, kisses your lips on his way back up to standing. “Let’s get outta here.”

“But—”

“Gotta clean you up, don’t we?” He asks huskily, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes your heart stammer, sends your brain into overdrive.

“Y-yeah, we do.”

“Okay, goodbye, have fun getting freaky.” Kyoka says quickly, and you poke your tongue at her, before you’re walking away under his arm, heading towards the forest.

“Hot spring?” You ask, glancing up at him.

“If we make it there.” He grins.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You narrow your eyes playfully, and he shrugs innocently as he takes you away from the forest path. “Bakugo,” you laugh. “Where are you taking me?”

“Just here, against this tree.” He grunts, swinging you around until you’re—laughing— backed up against the trunk of a thick redwood.

“What’s that even mean—” you ask, but he drops to his knees in front of you, and your whole body goes hot. The moon shines brightly through the canopy of the trees, bathing Bakugo in a kind of angelic glow, so incredibly unlike him. How ironic. He licks his lips as his hands reach for the backs of your knees, edges his mouth closer to your sticky thighs. “N—Baku—”

“Shh,” he coos softly, dark eyes staring up at you as you dig your fingers into the bark of the tree, suck your bottom lip between your teeth. His lips ghost over one of your knees and he trails slow—painfully slow—wet kisses up your thigh, licking over the sticky residue left over from Kyoka’s drink.

You manage to keep it relatively together, until a hand goes to your hip, and he licks up so close to the apex of your thighs that you moan, and he growls, hands gripping you tighter.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises, voice rough and gravelly as he looks up at you, nose running up your clothed slit.

“Bakugo!” You jolt, but he doesn’t stop, replaces his nose with his lips, tongue. He pulls your hips closer to his face, tongue running along the nylon, drenching it, making it stick to your lips. Then a hand is gone from your hip, and your swimmers are pulled to the side, and his lips kiss your pussy, tongue licks a stripe up your folds, and your fingernails are digging into his scalp as your head thunks against the tree, eyes screwed shut because, “Fuck,” you breathe, gasping.

You can hear him growl, feel the vibration against your clit as he wraps his lips around the bud and sucks.

You barely muffle your cry, as pleasure runs hot through your bones and you go spineless, collapsing into his arms. He doesn’t give you much time to recover, kissing you hard, slippery tongue between your teeth coaxing more moans from you, revving you back up again.

His fingers rub you gently between your thighs, toying with the wetness. “I think we made a bigger mess.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You groan, embarrassed, and he licks his lips before capturing yours again in another hungry kiss. You’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him, and rubs you more surely, teases you with a finger. “Do it,” you urge him, breathless yet again, and he wastes no time

“So wet, baby.” He moans, jerking his hips up with his finger’s thrusts, kissing your cheek, then your neck. Your head falls back, the now familiar pleasure building as he adds another finger.

“Let me… I’ll do you, too.” You breathe heavily, grabbing at the strings of his board shorts, ripping the Velcro open.

When you finally have him in your hands, he groans against your mouth, and you pull away from him to spit on your hand, before giving him a few wet pumps and kissing him again.

“You…” you breathe, and he looks at you, slows his fingers. “Do you want to pu—”

“No,” he chuckles, uses his free hand to push the hair from your face. “Not here.”

“Are you sure, because I—” he kisses you quiet, pushes a third finger into you, and your head falls to his shoulder, whole body on edge again. “Ahh, f—feels good, Katsuki.” You breathe, and he bucks up into your hand, reminding you to do him, too.

“Say it again.” He growls, licks a stripe up your neck, nips at your ear. “My name,” he breathes.

You moan, his fingers hitting that spot again, and again, and again—“Katsu—” and you’re coming again, back arching, whole body going tight, stars spinning behind your eyes as his face nuzzles your chest.

He pulls himself out of your hand, ready to finish himself off, but you’re hungry for him already, pushing him back, taking him between your lips for the second time that day.

He’s groaning—a salty, musky mess—and it makes your head spin, gives you a power you never even dreamed you’d have. You look up at him through your lashes, see his dark eyes drinking you in. He reaches down and pulls your bikini up—breasts springing free—and gropes at your tits, closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the grass in bliss.

You grip a thigh, hold him down with a splayed hand over his chiselled abs, and take him deep once, twice, three times, before coming up for air, eyes watering. He grunts, pushes back up into you, and you do it again. His hands are in your hair, holding you down as he calls your name, and he cums hot and heavy down your throat, cock pulsating between your lips.

You swallow all of him.

“Ah, s-sorry,” he breathes heavily, sitting up to check on you, pushing your hair from your face, and holding you like you’re made of glass.

“Mmm… Hold me,” you smile blissfully, fall against his chest as he chuckles, kisses your hair. “This’d be better in a bed. We could just… fall asleep.” He hums in response, traces patterns on your back, tickling the skin.

“Do you wanna go back to the party?”

“Won't that be… suspicious?” You smile up at him. He kisses you, holds your face with both of his hands, rubs his thumbs along your cheeks.

He’s stirring it back up within you, conditioning you to want him after every deep, sensual kiss. He pulls back, breathless.

“You think I give a fuck what those extras think?” He says, tone betraying the almost grin on his face. You roll our eyes, push away from him and stand up.

“Come on, then.” You whine, fix your bikini top, then the bottoms.

“Babe, you look so good; come back down here.” He bites his bottom lip, and it’s so sexy that your eyes go wide, face blazing as you take him in: half-naked, cock out, sweaty, flushed.

“If I come back down there to you, I’m making you fuck me, so let’s just go.” You cross your arms, pick up your jacket, and turn, heading towards the fire.

“Oi, I said come back here!” He calls, fixing himself up, and following. You break into a run, and you’re laughing as he chases you, dodging trees until you’re on the beach. He’s hot on your heels, so you drop your jacket, make a sprint for the water. “Come here!” He’s yelling, but you’re still laughing as you enter the freezing water, fall against a wave.

When you come back up, he grabs you, pulls you onto his lap and kisses you gently. His hair is wet, flat against his head, and he shakes it out, attempts to fluff it back up.

She heard.

Awkward, her face red beneath one of her hands. Kaminari and Sero are in a heated discussion about… sneakers, on one side of her, and Ochako and Tsu are laughing at Deku on the other. She gets up, stretches, makes eye contact with you, nods away from the group.

We need to talk.

You head out towards the dead campfire, hear her chair scrape as she pushes it out. You glance back at her, your heart in your throat.

What are you going to say to her? What can you say?

“Wash my dishes.” She ruffles Kaminari’s hair, jogs to catch up to you. You glance over your shoulder, make sure you’re not being watched or followed. 

To her credit, she waits an appropriate amount of time before freaking out. “What the actual hell?”

Okay, yeah, she had every right to be curious, but what were you supposed to tell her? Everything? Make up a lie? Surely Bakugo didn’t want anyone knowing he was messing around with you; what if it got back to Ochako?

What if Shouto found out that you were fucking around and he never spoke to you again?

You walk past the campfire, into the trees. You shrug, unable to find words.

“Don’t—no way.” Kyoka laughs, a humourless sound, grabs your arm. “You’re fucking him?”

You take your arm back, hold up your hands. “Whoa, no. We… we haven’t done… that.”

“What?” She screeches, pulls at her hair. “I heard you! I had to stop listening because, because!” She’s blushing, and you’re probably blushing, too. “I heard things, don’t lie to me, we’re friends.” She says, voice low. 

You frown at her, conflicted, and sigh heavily.

She played the friend card. And you are friends, pretty close; she’s your closest friend besides Shouto, but you’d been giving her space since she got with Denki a few weeks ago.

“It was… just… a blowjob.” You mumble, uncomfortable.

She gasps, cackles, folds in half laughing.

“Kyoka.” You groan, rubbing a hand down your heated face, and she looks up at you, tries to stop laughing. Wipes actual tears from her eyes.

“Oh god, I knew something was up.” She says, and your eyes fall to the leaves crunching under your joggers. The sun’s rays dance along your path sporadically, blotches and patches highlighting flowers, rocks, the fallen leaves. “Hey.” She frowns, a hand gently lands on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Are you going to tell Kaminari?” Your voice is a whisper, nervous.

“What? No.” She scoffs, pushing you a little, you take an extra step back, lean against a tree. “It’s none of my business, and it’s definitely none’a his.”

“I just… Ah, god.” You groan, rub your hands over your face again. She’s watching you patiently, and you fold. “I think I really like him, Kyoka.”

“Bakugo? Really?” She tilts her head to the side, watches you thoughtfully. “I thought you were head over heels in love with Shouto?”

Shouto. Will you ever be able to escape him?

“Shouto has Momo.” Your gaze drops to your feet, worn white Asics with red stripes.

She steps towards you, trying to understand. “So… you gave up?”

“I think… I think I just had this picture in my head of what life with him would be like and… ruled out all other options. And then Bakugo…” you take a shaky breath, remembering the first kiss. “He… kissed me, and he’s all I can think about.” You groan, because it’s frustrating that— “But, he likes someone else.”

“What?” She frowns and folds her arms.

“There’s a girl in class that he likes.” You tell her, sighing. “It’s not me.” You reiterate.  

“He… kinda sounds like it’s you he’s into.” She says, confused, eyes crinkles at the sides. “I saw him throw a tanty at the breakfast table because Todoroki touched you. We all did.”

“No, we—” You hold your fingers against your cheeks, glance away from her. “We started this to forget about the people we like.”

A snort.

Then, Kyoka howls with laughter. “What kind of—”

“Kyoka.” You groan, pushing her gently.

“That’s like—what is this, a shoujo manga?” She’s breathless, and you roll your eyes. “You like each other, why else would you do those things together?”

“I told you—”

“Bakugo in not the kind of guy who would do something he doesn’t want to do.” She explains, and yeah, it’s true, but… ugh, it’s too much to think about.

“Kyoka, it’s not—” You sigh again, but your attention is taken by Iida loudly calling for the pair of you. You can barely see him through the shrub. “C’mon.”

She grabs you by the shoulders before you can turn away. “Hey, if you like him, tell him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have a mini hissy fit over what Todoroki did, if he didn’t like you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You laugh, rolling your eyes again. “Just don’t tell anyone. Especially Kaminari.”

“Scout’s Honour.” She salutes, and she follows you out to the clearing. “Who do you think he actually likes?” She asks, a whisper. Your eyes find Ochako, and she follows your eyes. “No way.”

“Yep.”

She sighs your nickname. “I doubt it.”

“Shut up.” You glare, feet crunching under the gravel as you approach the group gathered by the firepit. Bakugo is getting his ear talked off by Kaminari, so naturally, you and Kyoka gravitate towards them.

You glance at Bakugo, and he eyes you and Kyoka with an unreadable expression.

“Where’d you two disappear to?” Kaminari questions, throwing an arm over Kyoka’s shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her hair. You fold your arms and try not to look guilty.

“Girl talk.” She shrugs nonchalantly, and you purposely avoid Bakugo’s stare.

“Elaborate!” He pushes, eyes on you this time.

“Uh, none of your business sparky-ass.” You sass, see the ghost of a smirk on Bakugo’s face at the insult. When you look at him, he glances away.

“You’ll tell me later, hey babe?” Kaminari grins, and Kyoka wiggles free of his grasp, eyes on Aizawa, who’s gingerly walking towards the group.

“Fat chance.” She laughs, sends you a wink.

Aizawa clears his throat, the group goes silent.

“Okay, you’re all going on a treasure hunt.” He deadpans, the chatter of the group starting back up at his words. He digs into a canvas bag and pulls out a clear ziplock. “You’re splitting up into teams of two. You’ve got until sundown to use the camera in the bag to take a photo of the item in the picture.” He makes eye contact with you, tosses the bag at you.

It’s got a disposable camera and a folded up sheet of A4 paper inside. When you attempt to open it, he tuts.

“Don’t look yet.” He warns.

“So, all we have to do is look at the picture, find it in real life, take a photo of it, and come back before sundown?” You frown. That’s gotta be too easy.

“Yes. Go stand to the side with your partner, wait until everyone has theirs before opening the bag.” He instructs. You glance over your shoulder, eyes finding Bakugo straight away; the surprised look on his face makes you grin.

“Let’s go, teacher’s pet.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes, not keen on the nickname. You walk off to the side—pretend you don’t feel Kyoka staring holes into your back—and he follows you.

“Thought you’d pick Earphone Jack.” He mumbles, peering over your shoulder at the bag in your hands. His proximity is unnerving, and your body buzzes with anticipation as his breath hits your ear.

“Who’d you want to go with?” You ask, looking up to him over your shoulder. His eyes meet yours and your heart leaps around in your chest.

“You.” He shrugs, his eyes dropping to your lips as he licks his own. You control the impulse to reach up to your tiptoes to kiss him, taste the syrup still fresh on his tongue. Instead, you take a deep breath, look down to your feet.

“Thought so.” You smile, nudge his chest with your shoulder playfully.

“You told her.” He says lowly, and when you look back at him, he’s looking at Kyoka, who’s looking back at the two of you with a smug grin.

“She heard our… conversation.” You whisper as more teams head over to the pair of you.

“Stupid fucking earlobe quirk.” He grumbles, stepping back a little, probably suddenly aware of how close he is to you. 

“Mm.” You agree, glancing up to watch him scan the group as they pair off. He’s oddly calm, and you wonder in the back of your brain if he’s looking for Ochako. It’s a sour thought. “She said she won’t tell, though.” You add, seeing if his demeanor changes. It doesn’t. He continues to watch as people team up, take their bags and wait.

Shouto and Momo are the last team.

“I wonder what he’d do if he found out.” Bakugo says quietly, bitterly. Your cheeks heat and you glance back at him, but he’s glaring at Shouto.

“He’d probably just warn me that you’re bad news.” You say back softly.

“Nah, I think he’d try and beat me up. Fuckin’ stupid ‘cause he’d lose. But still.” His voice is quiet enough for only you to hear, but vicious enough to make you wonder.

“Why would he do that?” You narrow your eyes, he rolls his.

“’Cause, you were his, and now you’re mine.” He glares, the heat in it putting you on edge.

“I’m a possession now?” You glare too, put a hand on your hip.

He blinks owlishly, caught off guard by your accusation.

“Time starts… now!” All Might hollers, and you wince as bags are ripped open and teams disperse.

You glower and tear the bag open, taking out the paper and glaring at the picture. It’s a flower.

A daisy, actually.

A photo of a daisy.

You thrust it out to Bakugo, but he just glares at you. You glance around, Mina and Mineta are the only team left on the site, already squabbling about the picture in Mineta’s hands; Aizawa and All Might are heading back to the house.

“Don’t you care about winning?” You hiss at him with a cocked eyebrow. Mineta and Mina run off into the forest, and you’re alone.

“You can’t be fucking mad at me when you’re the one with heart eyes for the lanky bastard.” He growls, points a finger at you.

“I told  you.  I don’t even know how I feel about Shouto anymore, dumbass.” You growl back, and he laughs bitterly.

“Oh yeah, sure you don’t.” His eyes roll and he shakes his head, disbelieving.

You take a deep breath, roll your eyes. “I can’t believe this.” 

“You started it.” He snips, arms crossed.

“No, no, that was you and you’re little schoolyard my-toy’s-better-than-your-toy bullshit.” It’s your turn to point a finger, and you jab him in the chest with it as he regards you with a clenched jaw. “I’m not a prize, Bakugo.”

“You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” He snaps, leering at you as you drop your hands to your sides. You glance around, concerned about being seen, but he continues. “But you are. You’re way better than any other girl in this stupid fucking class, and I’m fucking happy you’re with me and not with that clueless shithead.” He’s so angry that his chest is heaving, fists clenched. “I hope he tries to take you from me, because I’ll beat his fucking half-and-half ass!”

You take a minute before you speak; try and process his outburst in stunned silence.

Either way you look at it, it’s a confession. A back-handed one, but one all the same.

A… confession?

You’re way better.

I’m happy you’re with me.

I hope he tries to take you from me.

There’s a pregnant pause in which you stare at each other; you wonder if you look as frazzled as you feel, while his face is red with anger —and probably embarrassment— at what he’d just blurted out.

“Bakugo…” you start, nervous. He looks at you expectantly, and you realize you have to finish this train of thought because leaving things unsaid has not served you well in the past. “Do you… like me?”

You take a steadying breath and resist the urge to look away from him. 

“What?” He glares at you, then swallows, glances away. “Well, yeah.” His anger is gone, completely evaporated and replaced with his usual abrasive standoffishness. He even stuffs his hands into his pockets, slouches.

A smile blooms across your face as nerves dissipate and joy tickles your belly. “I… I like you, too.” You say dumbly, stepping closer to him, reaching up to tug on his shirt. “I don’t wanna fight about Shouto anymore.” 

He sighs, takes your face in his hands and looks down at you. “‘Neither.” He mumbles, kissing your forehead. You melt against him, revel in the warmth of his body, the scent that is entirely Bakugo; the cinders, the sweat, the steam, the syrup. “I’ve got you.” He grumbles, and the admission has you wrapping your arms around him, holding him tightly. “Let’s do this later.” He tilts your head back up to look at him, places a kiss to your lips.

“Gotta win.” You agree, leaning back up to kiss him again, smile growing on your face.

“We won’t lose, because the class is full of idiots, but we gotta make it into the top 3 at least.” His hands drop to your shoulders, fingers trail down your neck making you shudder. You nod in agreement, lost for words. “Okay, c’mon.” He breathes, reaching to take the picture from your hand behind his back.

You look at it together for a moment, before your eyes wander back up to his face.

He’s looking at you, too.

You smile shyly, shake your head. “C’mon.” You mumble, but you wanna kiss him, hold him. He throws an arm over your shoulder, kisses the side of your face. “I shoulda picked Kyoka, we’re not gonna get anything done.”

“Nah, we’ve got this.”

+

You argue all day— between chaste kisses and barely there touches— and as the sun sets, you’ve got a disposable camera full of photos of all the daisies you could find in the area. Bakugo even picked you one, placed it behind your ear.

When you make it back to the house, only Momo, Shoto, Deku and Ochako are there, all four of them sitting on the steps, orange sodas in their hands.

“Ugh, third.” You frown, smack Bakugo in the arm.

“Ain’t my fucking fault.” He frowns, pulling the ziplock back out of his pocket, holding it out for you to take.

All Might calls you both by your last names, abruptly poofing back from buff to scrawny. You take a deep breath, hungry and annoyed, and drop the camera into the ziplock, hold the bag out to the ex-Pro Hero.

“Food, All Might?” Bakugo barks from behind you. All Might hands you both a soda, takes the bag, pats you on the shoulder; he opens his mouth to talk, but is interrupted.

“We have to wait for the other teams.” Ochako chimes in, bouncing down the stairs to meet you. All Might wanders away, dejected.

“Ugh, I’ll die.” You groan dramatically, bending forward and clutching your stomach. “This is ridiculous, I didn’t even finish my breakfast.” Your own fault for saying you were done, really.

“You two worked well together! Good job, Kacchan!” Deku smiles, following Ochako down to you and Bakugo. You glance back at Bakugo, who rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, asshole.” He grumbles in response. You think you hear him mutter something like ‘Can’t believe we lost to Deku’.

“Get a grip, third’s not so bad.” You shoot back, elbowing him in the ribs. He hisses, brow twitching in annoyance, and sets his jaw. “Who was first?” You ask, ignoring the rumble of your stomach.

“Ah, we actually were.” Ochako blushes, wraps an arm through one of Deku’s, and then he’s blushing too.

You glance at Bakugo, unable to shake the feeling— despite this morning— that he’s jealous of the two of them. But he merely stares back at you, brow twitching teasingly as if he can read your thoughts and thinks you’re ridiculous.

“Well, congrats on number one.” You smile at them, give them a thumbs up.

“Thanks!” Deku and Ochako chime together.

It’s kinda annoying, how sickly sweet they are.

“No problem.” You smile, dragging your feet towards the steps.

“Why do I feel like today was just a ploy to get us away from the house for the day?” Ochako whines, following you. She looks dishevelled, but they all do, and you’re sure you do too.

“Aizawa probably didn’t want to deal with us today. Sheesh, I can’t wait for food and a bath.” You complain, collapsing down on the bottom step, closer to Momo, cracking open your soda. Bakugo just stands and watches, sips his drink with a hand stuffed in his pocket. “What’s the bet we’re gonna be waiting until Mineta and Mina make it back?”

“They’ve only got until sundown.” Shouto sighs, leaning back on his elbows.

“Fourth?” Kaminari groans loudly, coming out from one of the pathways leading into the forest. He’s distantly followed by a very tired, and very annoyed looking Kyoka, huge rip in her tank top.  

You can’t help but laugh, and Ochako and Deku jump up, rush at them in the same way they did you and Bakugo. Kyoka doesn’t even take part in their conversation, beelines it straight for you, practically collapses in your lap.

“How’d you two go?” She asks, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes you nervous.

“Fine.” You shrug, pinch her where no one can see. She winces but laughs it off.

“Better than you losers.” Bakugo grunts, walks off in All Might’s direction.

Kyoka watches him go, then looks to you, before bursting into laughter again. “I don’t know how you put up with that asshole.”

“Eh, he grows on you.” You smile, watching as he kicks a chair out across from All Might at the lunch table, sits down.

“Debatable.” She nudges your shoulder with hers. “He’s probably just sweet on you.”

“Shut up.” You frown, feeling your face heat in embarrassment.

“No, you’re right. He totally treats all of us the way he treats you.” She says sarcastically.

“Kyoka.” You scoff, glare at her.

“I can see it too.” Momo interjects, leaning forward to catch your attention. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as Shout gets up, heads towards Bakugo and All Might. When he’s out of ears’ reach, Momo sighs. “He thinks Bakugo is using you to get to him.” She whispers conspiratorially.

“Huh?” You baulk, frowning at her. “Shouto said that?”

“Really?” Kyoka is just as shocked as you.

“Yeah.” Her dark eyes have lost their sparkle, and you can tell it’s bothered her to even bring it up. You look between her and Kyoka, annoyed because Bakugo was right.

“What else did he say?” Kyoka pushes, crossing her arms and leaning back to accommodate Momo some space.

“Just that.” She sighs, rubs her temples. “And that you’re special to him, so he’s concerned.”

“Wow.” Kyoka mumbles, eyes wide.

“Ugh, how irritating can you get?” You add, glaring over at him. Deku, Kaminari and Ochako have joined the other three at the table.

“And to say stuff like that to your girlfriend about another girl?” Kyoka shakes her head. “I had no idea he was so ‘girl dense’.”

You hadn’t really factored Momo’s feelings into the equation, not really.

Wait. They’re dating?

How did he not tell you they were official?

“It only bothers me—and I hate that it does!” Momo gushes, face red, eyes downcast. “Because I know that you… well, you have feelings for Shouto and—”

“No.” You cut her off, mortified.

Kyoka jumps in. “Tell her!” She pretty much begs, pushing you almost violently.

“I don’t have feelings for him— not beyond friendship.” You frown, meet Momo’s eyes. “I really, really like someone else.” You feel your face blaze, and you look down to your feet, rest your chin on your propped-up knees.

They both wait for you to elaborate.

“Bakugo?” Momo asks, a delicate hand on your shoulder.

“Shouto knows, too. He pretty much guessed it this morning.” You grumble, annoyed at the situation. At yourself.

“Does Bakugo know?” Momo asks, her face a picture of surprise when you glance back at her. You nod, then shrug, then bury your face in your hands with a groan.

Kyoka shrieks, throws her arms around you drags you closer to her in a hug. “Oh, wow, you two are so whipped for each other!”

“Shhhhut up, Kyoka!” You push her away, glance at the table. Everyone’s in deep conversation, even Bakugo, who’s debating something with Kaminari. He seems to be winning, based on the look on Kaminari’s face. “Momo, don’t— can you not say anything? Even to Shouto? It’s not really anyone’s business, and it’s nothing anyway, so—”

“Of course not!” She gasps. “I feel awkward enough telling you what Shouto told me, so I’d prefer it stay between us.”

“Yeah, I’m not telling.” Kyoka agrees.

Your stomach rolls, an ugly squelch rumbling up through to your ears. Just before you complain, more people wander into the camp, and All Might stands over at the table, announces something you can’t hear, and Ochako bolts over to you, excited.

“We’re going to the beach!” She yells, pumping a fist in the air.

“What?” Kyoka narrows her eyes, but Ochako’s helping you up, then Kyoka. Momo gets up, too.

“We’re going to the beach for dinner.” She elaborates, still excited. Bakugo, Shouto and Deku start to wander over, too. “Aizawa is there waiting; let’s get dressed and go.” Ochako almost vibrates with excitement. In a flurry of girlish giggles and renewed zeal, you’re in the dorms getting ready for the beach.

“Get dressed? It’s going to be too cold to swim.” Momo sighs, wandering over to her suitcase—yes, she brought a whole-ass suitcase—picking up her swimsuit and looking at it longingly.

You snort, collapse onto your futon and drag your duffel bag onto your lap. “You can still wear it. I’m not passing up the opportunity to wear one of mine.”

“Same.” Kyoka’s already taking her clothes off, you shake your head at her enthusiasm. Anything to impress Denki, not that she’d let him know it.

“Me neither. Ah, this is so exciting!” Ochako shrieks, sitting next to you. “How many days do we have left here?” She asks, rummaging through her backpack and tugging out her pretty pink one piece, then her shirt’s off. Tsuyu wanders into the room silently; you notice, and the pair of you exchange a little wave.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “At least two more days, I think?”

“We head back the day after tomorrow.” Tsuyu says, shocking the rest of the girls. She’s staring down at her two options: her reef suit, and a black and white polka dot bandeau bikini. You poke your head in her space, hum in deliberation with her.

“I like the bikini, Tsu.” You grin, turning back to your bag. You’d brought three swimsuits because you’re a young lady, and you can’t possibly wear the same one more than once.

You dig your hand into your bag, pull out the first piece of nylon you touch. It’s a black triangle bikini, piped around the edges in neon orange.

It weirdly reminds you of Bakugo, his hero outfit.

Your stomach twists in a knot of anticipation, and you bite your lip as you wonder what he’d do if he saw you in his colours. Of course, he might not even bat an eye, but you can’t help but think it’s a strange fate that had you pack those swimmers.

You all change in the room, too comfortable with each other to even worry about seeing one another naked.

Momo’s got a white halter neck one piece with a cut out on each side, Kyoka wears a high neck purple top and tiny black board shorts, Tsuyu goes for the bikini, and Ochako shrugs a cardigan over her pink swimsuit.

“I wonder if Toru and Mina will be back soon?” Momo frowns, concerned as she toys with the tie at the back of her neck.

“Did they pair up?” Kyoka asks, tying your strings behind your back.

“I saw Mina with Mineta this morning.” You mumble, looking down to make sure your top is symmetrical.

Ochako chimes in about Toru, but Kyoka has her lips to your ear. “I saw the hickey.” She whispers, and for a second you’re confused, but then you remember last night with Bakugo at the campfire and you gasp, cover your clothed breast with a hand.

“You perv.” You hiss quietly, glare at her. “That’s on my boob.”

“Yeah, I saw a bite mark, too. Lucky this just covers it.” She teases with a grin, snapping the strap against your skin. You yelp as the sting, but whole body feels hot as you remember what exactly he’d done to you, how he made you feel.

Your first orgasm.

Then what you’d done to him in the bathroom this morning. Are you moving too fast?

“Oh, it must have been good.” Kyoka continues, pinching your cheek. You slap her away childishly, very aware of how hot your whole body feels.

“What was good?” Tsu questions, and you both jump a little at her proximity; how long had she been standing there? Your reactions catch the eyes of Ochako and Momo, both of them wandering over, too.

“Uh, nothing.” You shrug, voice high pitched.

“No, it’s something… sexy.” Tsu blinks, ever nonchalant.

Ochako gasps. “You and Kaminari?” She asks, eyes on Kyoka, who throws you straight under the bus.

“Not me, her!” She blushes, pointing a finger at you.

“And who?” Ochako’s eyes widen, she glances to Momo. “Shouto?”

“No!” You and Momo both yell, flustered. You can tell she wants to defend his honour, but also wants to keep your secret.

“Okay. Alright…. Oh my god…” You sigh, gesture for them all to come closer. You’re really having this conversation with everyone in the room. It’s happening. “It’s not Shouto, okay? It’s someone else, and I’m not entirely comfortable—”

“Ah, it’s Bakugo.” Tsu nods sagely.

“I knew he liked you!” Ochako shouts proudly.

“It’s kinda obvious.” Kyoka flicks her hair, bends down to grab her towel. You just stand there, mute; unable to articulate. “But we have to keep it between us. Don’t tell the boys. Especially Deku and Denki.”

“Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?” Tsu enquires, getting a bag of necessities together.

“Ah, not officially?” That, you manage to say.

“Why not?” She presses, and you hesitate because… why aren’t you?

“It’s been like two days.” You manage to say, 

“Why Bakugo?” Ochako tilts her head, taps her chin. “He’s so… mean.” She frowns, glancing at you.

For some reason, you’re annoyed. Yeah, he can be mean, but that’s not all he is. He’s comforting and gentle and real. You like that he doesn’t sugar coat things, just says what he thinks. No filter.

Before you can retort, the door busts open and Toru and Mina fall in, moaning and groaning.

“I’m going to murder Mineta, I swear to god.” Mina grumbles, crawling to her futon.

“I don’t blame Shouji, but that was crazy.” Toru cries, moaning.

“I’m going.” You grab your towel, pull your UA University jacket up your arms and slip on some sandals, keen to get away from the barrage of questions you’re too flustered to answer.

Kyoka shouts after you, but you rush off with a laugh, looking over your shoulder to see if she’s following. You smack straight into a shirtless Shouto and your towel falls to the floor.

“Shouto, sorry!” You gasp, holding your hands up apologetically.

He looks you over, glances away. “It’s fine.”

He’s icy. He hasn’t been icy with you since you first met two years ago.

It’s not fine.

No, it’s awkward.

“Shouto, I—”

“It’s fine.” He says gruffly, pushes past you and down the hall. You stand there dumbly until Kyoka rushes out of the room in the same fashion you had, knocking into you.

“Ow!” She hisses. “The heck are you doing?”