Sensitive file | K. Bakugo
A video filed away as sensitive settles dread in your bones. You and Dynamite were supposed to go on an undercover mission and gather video evidence of criminal activity. Unfortunately, the only thing you record, and play in front of commissioner Hawks, is him bamging you on a wooden desk. Worst thing? Neither of you remember it. After settling a compromise with Hawks about the video never leaving the evidence box, you begin avoiding Dynamite. Until he grows tired of it and takes you out of the office to talk.
Warning!: short mentions of sex under influence (quirk), neither reader nor Bakugo actually remember it
Part two <- the mission, the video; prequel
The street lamps smudge over the black canvas of the night sky. The inside of the leather clad car is surprisingly quiet, only a whisper of the, otherwise, roaring engine detectable. The vehicle seems to be gliding over the smooth, black, dead asphalt embedded in the ground like scar tissue.
Equally deep scars snake around the hand that changes the gear, a higher number pops in place and you feel your back push into the soft passenger seat. Nothing inside the car matches the velocity that it moves with.
Glancing to the side you zero in on the glistering lights of the shrinking city — gold, white, blue. If you close your eyes you can imagine the buzz of the neons and the warmth radiating off the heated streets. But you leave the electric monolith of life behind as you turn to look at the road ahead.
The track is getting more narrow, hugging the sides of the sports car like a distant family member during an unwelcome reunion — suffocatingly. Your driver slows his pretty machine allowing it to finally breathe, not only cut through the air without a second thought. Upon opening the window you also inhale deeply, the salty smell of the sea makes a deep nostalgia surface.
What is this longing for? You think and say aloud. Bakugo bats his red eye at you to which you pay no mind, happily sinking in the strange mood.
“You mean?” The grown reaches your ear accompanied with a crunch under the tires. You just entered a rural area with roads as old as local ghost stories and the dried lips of women chanting them.
“Nothing in particular.” A vague answer, too vague for your liking right now. “Or maybe no, not nothing, but… have you ever felt longing for something that isn’t even yours in the first place? Like a connection to something that’s only in your head but ultimately it’s enough to make you feel good.”
You turn your face his way but as much as Bakugo wants to look you in the eye, he has to be patient about the rocky road. The tiny stones escape from under the heavy tires scratching the chassis which sits too low for its own good.
“I don’t know. I guess? Difficult question.” He sums up your messy confession.
“Well, that’s how the sea makes me feel — peaceful. No matter if it’s cold, hot, quiet or stormy.”
“Then it’s good we’re here, if you like it so much.”
You only shrug, gathering your things as the car comes to a stop in front of a small inn. Phone, wallet, shit you lost the chapstick because the lights inside the vehicle already went out.
Bakugo is outside, his silhouette dark, face hidden as if he was anonymously testifying someone’s sins in a trashy TV series.
You make your way up the stairs and inside the warm, light-themed room. Thin, white curtains frame the open windows. They dance in the wind catching the faint prophecy of a future storm in their silky arms. Behind a wooden counter the receptionist, an older woman, checks you in.
“Secrecy is quite important for me, if you don’t mind.” Bakugo taps his fingers on the oak. “I don’t want my friend here to have any problems with weirdos from the internet. Psycho fans, have you ever heard of them?”
The woman shakes her round head, the styled hair on top flies to the sides.
“They can come after you wherever you are.” The blonde seems to take a liking in scaring older ladies. A wicked toothy smile brings the corners of his face up and he hands in some cash. A key is traded in return. The small token of your accommodation lands in the back pocket of his pants.
“We’ll be back late.” The woman nods, not paying you much mind, too occupied with the thought of housing Dynamight, the hero.
With the first step you take outside you realise how blinding the inside of the inn was. Or maybe it’s just alarming how dark it is outside. Looking upwards you see stars, thousands of them.
You and Bakugo take course for the thing you rather hear than see in the darkness. Soon your feet dig in the sand and the slushy hum of the water is the only sound you can hear.
“Now you happy?” Bakugo asks, his voice comes from a few steps behind.
“Mhm.” You purr, stopping midway between the cement walking path and the sea. There is nothing in front of you besides the dark pit of the water and the starry coping of the world.
“I drove you all the way here so let’s at least have some fun.” Now he got closer, but you didn’t hear his stomping boots. That’s because he’s holding them in his hand.
The fluffy tail of a dark cloud passes over the shining disc of the moon, releasing the light. It’s full tonight. Now, up close you can see Bakugo’s features.
“You wanna come swim?" He asks.
“Okay.” And you’re both taking off your shirts.
The warmth sticks to your skin. There’s a breeze but it’s not enough to make you waver and break down in shivers. The water is warm, it’s going to feel like an embrace.
“Where you going like that?” The blonde asks. He points an accusatory finger your way, aiming at your underwear. “We’re skinny dipping.” You receive the same smile as the old lady behind the wooden counter. “What, you chicken?”
“No.” Like a mimic, you match his crazed smile and pull your bra off.
He hooks his thumbs in his briefs and pulls them down. At the same time you shake off the panties from your ankle.
A wave sneaks up the sand and you see it as an outstretched hand, inviting you to dance. With a tiny laugh you run, legs stretching to the maximum, lungs setting ablaze, arms thrown up and forward.
You launch into the water and the only thing you hear are bubbles escaping from under your cannonball body. The cold electrocutes your nerves and your throwing limbs everywhere, the only thing in mind is to get up, up. Your head breaks the surface and you’re once again breathing. It’s pitiful, how a few seconds without something so trivial as air can turn you animalistic.
The cold of the water merges into warmth. Now you can feel the breeze slap your wet cheeks and you hide as high as your nose, under the wet blanket.
It’s relaxing, calming, humbling, to be practically alone against the mighty ocean.
Turning your head towards the coast, you swim on your back, lazily moving your hands to stay afloat. The sea is calm today, letting you rest in its rocking hold.
A collection of fingers embraces your head and you bump into an abdomen. Opening your eyes reluctantly, you see his wet strands sticking to his forehead. You also see his nose and lips. And eyes. Though you can focus only on one at a time, making your gaze run back and forth.
“You’re calm right now?” He, once again, asks. Bakugo Katsuki seems to have an awful lot of questions today.
“Huh, that I already know.”
“Renting a room with you alone for the night. Disappearing on the beach. Getting naked and swimming in the water utterly alone — it’s idiotic.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” His index digs into the soft of your cheek.
“You never do. You didn’t give a fuck about the video as well. Did you?”
“Then why did you search for me afterwards? Why, suddenly, you were in the corridors, in the canteen, in the parking lot?”
Bakugo chuckles like he does when you ask something seemingly obvious. This man really believes that his mind sets the order for the whole world.
“Because I have the hots for you, stupid. And I’m really irritated that I saw myself going down on you but I don’t remember shit about it. It looked like something worth keeping in mind.”
You can feel the warm breath escape through his nose as he leans down for a kiss. It’s like balancing on the tip of the mountain of filth, one step forward and you're buried under the avalanche of him. You stay on top. You need to remain calm in order to keep the balance on the surface of the water.
“I don’t do one-night-stands.” He wants to comment but you shoot a finger and seal his lips. He obeys and it makes you warm between your tights. “Not ones I can remember.”
“So you want me as your boyfriend.”
“Or you want me as your girlfriend.”
A stronger wave comes crashing into you. Bakugo pulls you up, palming everything on the way from your neck to your lower back. It gives you a deja vu, you know you’ve been here, you explored his skin and warmth, yet you don’t remember anything. All you can do is recall the damned video of you two…
“Boyfriend.” Bakugo speaks, setting you on the wobbly sea bed.
Whoever admits first loses. You feel the game, the challenge, in his grip, you see it in his grin, you feel it as you lick your lips clean of him.
Another wave, an older and bigger sister of the previous, pushes you towards the shore. You look upwards and see that Bakugo’s crown of fair hair is no longer sprinkled with stars. Dark clouds gather in the sky, chasing the little grey bunny that hid the moon a while ago. The wind builds momentum. The old lady in the inn must have already closed the windows. A storm is coming.
Both you and Bakugo splash towards the sandy beach. You grab a fistful of your clothes and run towards a small wooden shelter-shack. Someone must be taking care of it during the day. But now, at night, it’s empty, alone, promising to keep all the secrets it heard. The doors leading inside are closed but the tiny porch enclosed in a wooden roof will be more than enough to wait the storm out.
You throw your shirt on the floor and sit down. Bakugo does the same but you don’t touch. The question hanging in the air hasn’t been answered yet.
“How do you imagine it? Being together.” You speak first, taking the lead.
“Simple, we’re together. We do all the stuff we do now but we’re, like, a couple. We don’t give a bat shit about what anyone’s saying.” He’s looking forward. “And what? Are you gonna be crazy about it or what?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want a difficult relationship. I want it easy, peaceful and sweet. Mine.”
“I thought I told you the sea is not mine, it only gives me peace.”
“Are you gonna be like it?” You pointed towards the building waves. They started to crash over the shore, slapping the beach and tearing it apart, sucking it inside.
“There’s a storm oncoming, bad timing for a metaphor.”
“I’m ready for a storm here and there. But are you capable of being both? The storm and the calm?”
“Maybe that’s too early for wedding vows but I can swear I’m gonna be my best.”
A thunder tunes in with your laugh.
“Bakugo Katsuki, sitting naked, in the storm, on the porch of a shitty shack, in the middle of the week, somewhere by the sea, vowing that he’s gonna be the best for me. Well, I think I’m gonna take it.”
“I already took you, in front of the camera, so you’re a runner-up.”
You lean in and he meets you halfway. Your feet dangle over the edge of the filth mountain. Suddenly it’s no longer a slope, it's an abyss. So you dive and you fall on his lap. It's warm, your back is cold from the harsh slaps of the wind. He pays it no mind too occupied by your mouth.
“It’s a pity my phone is dead. I’d make another video for Hawks, so he can have a collection of porn starring us both.” He breathes into your ear. You shudder and laugh.
“It’s not porn. It's evidence filed away as sensitive.”
