Work Text:
The world is grey everywhere Kirishima looks. The room for the wake had been decorated nicely, he’s sure of it, but every flower, photo, and curtain had lost its color. His hair is grey, his suit is grey, the floor, the walls, the carpet, the food, all grey. His mother stands by the door in a grey dress, gathering condolences while his sisters keep an eye on the grey food and drinks and their aunt's grey sticky fingers. They watch with an eagle-eyed vigilance that would have astounded anyone who close with them but Kirishima knows better.
His father's illness had rocked the family in a way that nothing else ever had, keeping Kirishima home from college and solidifying what had once been a rocky family dynamic. Now Kirishima can’t imagine college any more than he can picture getting into a fistfight with his older brother. He glances over at his brother, seeing Ko talking at Bakugou while the other man completely ignores him to stare at Kirishima.
Kirishima blinks in surprise and tries to raise a smile to his lips, but emotions are full of color and the world is colorless, so the expression falls flat. He turns away from his friend, feeling tears prickle in his eyes.
"Kirishima."
Footsteps echo across the room and Kirishima looks up to see Bakugou striding towards him, full of grim purpose and determination. He can’t manage to pull himself into the color that life needs for Bakugou; he can’t quite seem to bring any joy into his being, and he raises his arms up to explain himself and all of the grey, when Bakugou's body collides with his and suddenly he's wrapped in his friend's embrace, held tightly.
"If you don't leave now, you might never make it out."
Eleven words and the color returns to the world for just a moment before Bakugou lets go and heads out the door, past the grey food, past the grey curtains, past Kirishima's grey mother. The door opens and the light blinds Kirishima and he looks away, but when he looks back the door is closed and Bakugou is gone, taking the color with him.
It only takes a split second for Kirishima to rush after him, "Wait!"
---
The cab pulls up to a small yellow house with an old Lincoln towncar parked in the street in front of it.
"I think that's it," Bakugou says, checking the listing one more time. Kirishima nods and they both hop out of the cab, Bakugou paying the cabbie and Kirishima thanking him profusely. Bakugou waves it away. "If we're gonna to do this, then what's mine is yours."
It's a surprisingly sappy sentiment from him and Kirishima lets him know this by planting a kiss square on his lips.
"Sure, what's mine is yours, too."
To his credit, Bakugou only looks shocked for a second. On the other hand, the cabbie smirks and drives off, and Bakugou flips him off as his goes, before pulling Kirishima back to him.
---
The towncar does surprisingly well out on the road and the first stop they make in is in the town of Beverly, Ohio. Bakugou pulls into the parking lot of a small second hand store and shakes Kirishima's shoulder to wake him up from where he's got his face pressed against the window.
"I've got to get out of this suit," Bakugou says by way of explanation and Kirishima nods sleepily. The shopkeeper is sweet and helpful and within the span of ten minutes Kirishima and Bakugou both have found two pairs of pants each and a few different shirts to try on.
Pulling his suit jacket and shirt off in the dressing room, Kirishima calls over the divider to Bakugou, "Where are we going?"
He can hear Bakugou changing as well and there's a muffled curse before he gets a real reply.
"I don't fucking know. Where do you wanna go?"
Kirishima pauses halfway through pulling on a shirt. He'd always thought about leaving his hometown, going out, seeing more of the world, but he'd never really put much thought into what he would do if actually given the opportunity. He thinks for a second and the idea comes to him in a flash of inspiration.
"I want to see the Pacific Ocean," he says, putting the shirt the rest of the way on.
There's a pause over the divider and then a grunt that Kirishima takes as a yes. He smiles into the flannel and steps out to try and charm the nice old shopkeeper into giving the two boys, who remind her so much of her grandsons, a discount.
---
Cincinnati is a city like Kirishima's never seen. He's a small town boy, born and bred, and the lights and sounds are so distracting. Even the motel they stay in feels like a palace. Bakugou has to repeat himself twice for Kirishima to hear him properly but once he does, he's quick to get back in the car.
Bright as they may be, the lights of the city aren't the destination he's aiming for.
---
The road stretches in front of them, full of promise and excitement, though the empty fields around them make Kirishima wonder if there were ever any cities at all. Bakugou's driving, letting Kirishima fiddle with the radio as an excuse to rest his head on Bakugou's arm. He hasn't thought about his father for at least a full day and the sky is a bright blue above them. For now, Kirishima is happy.
As the sun goes down that night Bakugou swears.
"We haven't seen an exit sign in miles!"
Kirishima's slouched in his seat, spread as much as possible. He waves a hand. "It's okay, there's plenty of time before it gets late."
"I knew I should have fucking pulled off at that sign ten miles back!" Bakugou seethes, hand gripping the steering wheel dangerously hard.
Kirishima sits up properly in his chair. "Pull over."
"What kind of a goddamn idiot doesn't bring a map on a road trip? What kind of a fucking moron?"
"Pull over, Bakugou." Kirishima says, firmer this time.
"I can't even-"
"Pull over!" Kirishima shouts. Bakugou finally listens and the car slows to a halt on the side of the road. Kirishima gets out of the car, hastily pulling in breaths of fresh air as carefully and quickly as he can. Bakugou's there in a second, hovering, unsure of what to do. Kirishima waves him off, trying to tell him that he'll be fine in a moment, though the words don't quite make it out.
It takes some time but eventually he's able to breathe normally again and leans his back against the front tire and closes his eyes. He can hear the car engine still running and the radio still playing, some sweet folksy love song, and it keeps him level. All in all, not a bad one. Just gravity hitting him. There's the sound of boots on gravel and then Bakugou is sitting beside him, silent and thinking.
"It'll be okay," Kirishima says, eyes still closed. He isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince.
"Yeah," Bakugou mumbles back and presses next to him. They spend the rest of the night on the side of the road, looking up at the stars and eventually, falling asleep in the car.
---
"Louisville."
"You're saying it wrong. It's Louisville. Forget the s," Kirishima says, correcting him.
"Fuck that. Maybe you're saying it wrong, ya inbred hick," Bakugou replies, though there's no real bite in his voice. He slaps a bit more chalk onto his hands and takes another stab at the climbing wall in front of them, Kirishima right behind him.
It's not a competition really, but they still beat all the other climbers to the top. Sitting there on top of the climbing wall, getting yelled at by the man in charge, Kirishima smiles and feels like he's won something after all.
---
Jasper, Indiana puts them in the crappiest motel in the entire world and Kirishima is delighted by every second of it.
"The fucking mattress isn't a mattress," Bakugou complains, "It's a concrete brick with a dip worn into it."
"At least there aren't any cockroaches," Kirishima chirps out from where he's attempting to make granola bars look like a filling and nutritious meal.
"Wrong, there's cockroaches in the bathroom," Bakugou says.
"No bedbugs though," Kirishima points out and starts humming.
"That we know of," Bakugou grumbles.
---
St. Louis has the coolest bar Kirishima's ever been in. The atmosphere is really cool, with old timey furniture and low lighting mixed in with more hipster-y art on the walls. The live music is great, some kind of alternative folk stuff that he's been really into once he realized that it was one of the only bearable things their shitty radio could pick up. He's bobbing his head along to the music while Bakugou chats up a couple at the bar.
For once Bakugou's got his face modelled into something he's been calling charming, and while normally that wouldn't be a word anyone would ever use to describe Bakugou, Kirishima has to admit that he's definitely got the charm turned on tonight. Kirishima takes another sip of his beer and waits, letting Bakugou handle this on his own. With any luck…
"Hey babe, looks like we've got a real roof over our heads tonight," Bakugou says as he leads the couple over to Kirishima's table.
"Really? Thank you so much!" Kirishima replies with a beaming smile. He knows his role in this game and it's one he fits into quite well honestly.
They all stay until the end of the set, chatting and getting to know each other, Kirishima taking over for Bakugou once his social limit is reached, and by the end of the night there are two beds set up in the couple's living room. Bakugou completely ignores the blankets and pillows laid out on the floor for him and squeezes onto the couch with Kirishima, holding him close so they'll both fit on the couch together.
"I like being warm at night," Kirishima says, facing the lightly crackling fireplace. He feels Bakugou hold him a little tighter.
"I'll try to make friends with more strangers with fireplaces in the future," Bakugou answers and then yawns.
"That should be question number one for all new friends."
"Got it," is the tired reply.
Kirishima is quiet after that and within a few minutes he can feel Bakugou fall asleep. He smiles to himself and closes his own eyes, ready to drift off.
---
"Just trust me, I can do this," Kirishima pleads. "You've been driving for hours." They're pulled over on the side of the road, nine hours into the almost seventeen hour stretch between St. Louis and Springfield, Missouri, their next destination. Bakugou had lost an intense game of rock, paper, scissors with the last gas station clerk and so Springfield was deemed a Must See on their trip. Kirishima puts his hand on Bakugou's knee, leaning into his space. "You never let me drive."
Bakugou groans but it turns into a yawn and eventually he's shoving Kirishima away from him and crawling into the backseat. Kirishima lets out a small whoop of joy and clambers into the driver's seat, buckling himself in. Bakugou just grunts and rolls down one of the back windows so he can stretch out, letting his feet hang outside of the window. In minutes they're back on the road.
Kirishima keeps the radio on in a quiet murmur and plans out random tattoos he'll never get as the car glides down the empty freeway. It's a beautiful afternoon and privately Kirishima wishes they could just pull over and picnic somewhere, but they’re down to their last two granola bars and have one water bottle to split between the two of them so it's probably best that they keep moving.
He makes it about three hours down the road, and Bakugou is sleeping like a rock, when the storm hits. It rolls in suddenly; one moment he's riding through sunshine and the next there's rain pelting every square inch of the towncar. Kirishima quickly rolls up the window that Bakugou's feet have long since stopped hanging out of and does his best to drive through the rain.
An hour later finds him stopped on the side of the highway, listening to a small battery powered radio and sitting in the back with Bakugou's head in his lap.
He spends some time thinking about the unpredictability of both life and the weather. The good things come with the bad so suddenly and there's rarely ever anything you can do about it. He sits and tries to sing along with the sappy man on the radio lamenting about life for as long as he can before he gives up and settles into the back seat a little bit more. Bakugou moves a little closer in his sleep and Kirishima smiles.
Sometimes weather is just weather.
---
In Oklahoma City Bakugou buys an electric razor and shaves the sides of his head and trims his bangs back as well. He does all of this while Kirishima is making friends at a local diner, scoring them a free meal courtesy of the fry cook's girlfriend and her magic words to the man himself.
"It was starting to get in my eyes. Fucking annoying," Bakugou said, when Kirishima asked about it.
It doesn't look bad. Maybe it could use some cleaning up, especially around the back, but what throws Kirishima off the most isn't really the quality of the cut. It's the change.
While he's helping Bakugou even it out that night Kirishima fingers his own locks. He hasn't had gel for days so his hair lays loose around his head in an unruly mess. Bakugou shrugs him off when Kirishima asks if it looks bad, but all the same he goes back to the diner before close and asks that same fry cook's girlfriend to fix him up.
Turns out she can't even give him a trim to get rid of his split ends, but what she does give him is two hair ties and the new found ability to braid: two gifts he'll treasure for the rest of the trip.
---
It's in a small town just outside of Colorado Springs that they officially run out of money. Bakugou parks the car in the parking lot of a small beat down diner and turns to Kirishima.
"Are you sure about this? I told you, I can get us enough money to get out to Wyoming."
Kirishima nods. "I know you can, but then what about the place after that? And the place after that? If we both pick up a couple of bucks it'll take us twice as far, right? Don't worry about me."
Bakugou sighs and Kirishima grins, leaning over to peck him on the cheek before he gets out of the car and heads towards the diner.
Mirio's diner is well established in the area and Mirio himself is a tall, blond man with a kind smile and even more kind waitresses. Kirishima is immediately put to work in the kitchen and within two hours is given an apron and asked to serve for a bit since Momo called in sick. Kirishima loves it, chatting with the customers, making friends with the other servers, sneaking French fries off of plates with Mina, one of the other servers.
It's almost enough to make him want to give up their journey and put down roots.
Meanwhile Bakugou picks up odd handyman jobs around town that eventually lead to him temping for the local mechanic. He's always been good with his hands and engines just plain make sense.
The week they spend in Falcon, Colorado is one of the best of the entire trip so far but when Bakugou wakes him up one morning, backpack on his shoulder, Kirishima knows it's time to go.
---
Kirishima scans the horizon in vain, hoping to see an exit sign that he knows isn't there. Casper, Wyoming was the last exit sign he'd seen and it wasn't for another 12 miles. The gas light has been on for ages now and the little extra light draws his eyes every couple of seconds. He'll drift down to look and think and then panic and swing his head back up in case he's somehow missed an exit. It's a wonder Bakugou hasn't woken up from where he's passed out in the backseat.
The forest surrounding the road looms around Kirishima as he begins to tap his fingers on the steering wheel. He doesn't want to go faster, doesn't want to waste gas, but he needs to find a town quickly before the towncar just gives up. His breathing is getting quicker and harsher and before he knows it there are tears in his eyes as the sun drops lower into the tree line.
Reflexively his foot presses harder on the gas and the towncar speeds up for a moment before the engine lets out a sound like it's choking and the car begins to slow down.
The tears are freely flowing down his face now as sobs threaten to burst from his chest. As the car slows to a stop Kirishima's mind is far away. It's been an insane year for him and he can't stop thinking about the trials he's faced. Sitting in the driver's seat of a car out of gas on the side of a mountain highway, all of those problems seems so close and so unsolved.
The sun sets behind the trees, the world is grey, and he cries. For himself, for his father, for his family. For Bakugou. For ever thinking he could do this. This being… everything.
It's the feeling of strong hands kneading his shoulders that brings him out of his own mind. Bakugou doesn't say anything, just waits until the colors slowly return to Kirishima's world, bit by bit, and then waves a white t shirt until someone gives them a lift to the nearest gas station.
---
"Wake up. We're in Jackson."
"Mississippi?" Kirishima asks, voice full of sleep. His face is smushed into the fabric of the backseat and there's a seat belt digging into his back but he honestly doesn't want to move an inch.
"Wyoming," comes the reply and after a moment a small kiss on the cheek. Kirishima groans again but he's up and smiling, if a little drowsily.
"Can we sleep in a real bed tonight?" he asks as he gets out of the car.
"Maybe?" Bakugou says. "We got invited to a house show." He's walking around to the trunk and Kirishima leans back against the door, waiting. He's soon tossed a mostly clean shirt and a granola bar. "I made a few friends at the bar."
"What kind of house show is it?" The granola bar is gone in seconds and Kirishima peels off his t-shirt, shivering at the cool night air. Bakugou's there in a moment, arms around his waist, holding him. Kirishima smiles and leans in for a kiss, cold mountain air be damned.
"Either heavy metal or some kind of the weird acoustic folk you like," Bakugou says against his lips. "The band's name is Saved by a Local, which tells me abso-fucking-lutely nothing."
Kirishima laughs and kisses him again. They'll make to the show eventually. Hell, they'll make it anywhere so long as Bakugou's there to get him moving.
It turns out to be folky rather than metally and Kirishima's really enjoying it. His flannel really lets him fit in and soon enough he's made friends all around. Bakugou's being a good sport, letting Kirishima drink a little and hang on him kind of like a monkey. They've even got a nice floor lined up to sleep on that night. It's not as good as a real bed, but being able to stretch his legs out full is a luxury that Kirishima has learned not to take for granted.
The couch is occupied by a man who has been passed out cold for the past hour and Kirishima and Bakugou lay on the floor, huddled together under a single blanket, sharing a pair of headphones and listening to a cassette player they found in one of the moving boxes that litter the room. Bakugou drifts off after a while and Kirishima isn't far behind him but before he loses consciousness, he thinks that maybe sleeping on the floor can be even better than a real bed if it’s with the right person.
---
They drive out to Whitefish purely for the fun of it.
"It's supposed to be absolutely beautiful!" Kirishima gushes, looking at the pictures of the Montana countryside that the man at the gas station had given him.
"Supposed to be? Take a look around, Kirishima! We're out here and it's fucking amazing!" Bakugou is in a great mood as they wind up and around the mountains out next to the rivers and waterfalls that are their destination. "Next spot there's enough room to pull the car off the side of the road, I'm doin it."
Kirishima whoops with joy and within minutes the two of them are sprinting out to the first waterfall they find, scrambling over rocks and shedding clothes as they go. With a shout Bakugou reaches the edge and leaps off, cannonballing into the churning water below.
Kirishima doesn’t even wait to see if he'll surface. After weeks on the road the cold water is refreshing in a way that Kirishima never imagined. He doesn’t just feel like the dirt and grime from the road is being washed away, he feels as if his soul is also being washed clean. When he bursts out of the water for air, his body is light and his mind is clear for the first time in what seems like ages. He laughs and from the top of the waterfall, dripping wet, hair plastered against his head, Bakugou laughs with him.
---
Sitting in a diner in Odessa, Washington, Kirishima swallows a bite of hashbrowns and points his fork at Bakugou. "I want to remember this forever."
Bakugou doesn't look up from his steak and eggs, some of the first real food they've had in ages, and replies, "Then get a frickin tattoo. I don't control your brain."
"That's a fantastic idea," Kirishima exclaims and immediately begins to sketch out some ideas on a napkin. He's got a million thoughts swirling around his head and unfortunately, his hand isn't on the same wavelength.
Bakugou finally looks up from his food and spits out a laugh. "Those are terrible. You know that shit's permanent right? Please don't get that shit tattooed on your body."
"Shut up," Kirishima says back but he's laughing too. Their waitress comes over to check their coffee and within minutes Kirishima's got her talking about tattoos and giving him some advice on his designs. Turns out one of the fry cooks is particularly talented with a pen, and Kirishima leaves the diner with a tattoo design and a beaming smile. Bakugou just shakes his head and laughs.
---
They spend long enough in Ellensburg for Bakugou to meet a rough crowd and also find a tattoo artist for Kirishima. He holds Kirishima's hand as he lays flat on the table, giving him a brief squeeze every time the pain makes Kirishima wince. As the needle pierces his skin, over and over, Kirishima can't help but hope this journey will never end.
---
Seattle is, without a doubt, the biggest city in the entire world. It has to be. Kirishima can't even imagine more people than those that have gathered here. The lights are everywhere, even more than in Cincinnati, and Kirishima is very glad that he isn't the one driving.
Bakugou navigates his way through the city streets, maybe not with ease, but with a distinct lack of road rage that in and of itself is shocking. If there weren't so many things to stare at Kirishima would be more concerned.
The towncar weaves its way around buildings and in and out of neighborhoods for what feels like forever before Bakugou gets them out to a small sand and gravel parking lot. He gets out of the car and Kirishima is next to him in a heartbeat.
"Let's go," is all he says.
They climb the wooden stairs onto the boardwalk and there it is. Pushing and pulling, with a quiet roar, the Pacific Ocean for as far as the eye can see. The overcast sky nearly blends seamlessly with the horizon and the wind whips around Kirishima, tugging him in forty different directions all at once and he's breathless.
"What do you think?" Bakugou asks. His voice sounds far away but there's warmth there. Kirishima doesn't look away from the sight in front of him, just reaches backwards to grasp Bakugou's hand and pull him forward.
"I don't think I'll ever lose the color of the ocean."