Chapter Text
Part I: Coax You Into Paradise
They see the flash of red and blue sparks first, lighting up the night with incandescent brilliance. A second and a half later, the muggy summer air reverberates with a muted series of booms and cracks.
Bakugo stares up at the sky, flat on his back. He breathes out slowly, taking it all in; the grass, cool and soft under him; the fireworks, vibrant and sparkling above him; and Izuku Midoriya, content and happy, right next to him.
“Kacchan, look!” Midoriya says, pressed up real close next to him, and Bakugo glances over. Midoriya’s green hair is tangled and messy and wild, tickling Bakugo’s chin as the shorter boy looks up at him with wonderstruck, wide eyes.
“They’re fuckin’ fireworks. We come out here every year,” Bakugo grumbles, but there’s a warm glow in his chest, and there’s no bite in his voice. Midoriya just ignores him, giggling, turning his attention back to a series of green-and-gold flickers blazing just above the treeline.
“How are you so easily amused?” Bakugo wonders aloud. He pushes his arms back, propping himself up on his elbows, sun-dried blades of grass crunching under his forearms.
“Kacchan…” Midoriya whines, still transfixed by the fireworks show. Bakugo watches him until Midoriya’s cheeks turn a little red, and he looks over at Bakugo with a question in his eyes.
“What?” Midoriya asks, slightly self-conscious. He sits up too, now, his white shirt clinging to his damp skin and stained with green from where he was laying in the grass.
“You’re fuckin’ cute,” Bakugo says lazily.
There’s that laugh, the one where Midoriya chuckles and smiles at the same time, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and, fuck, Bakugo could listen to that gentle laugh for the rest of his life and be perfectly content.
Then Midoriya leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
The brush of Midoriya’s lips is an electric shock, setting Bakugo’s skin afire and sending his heartbeat into a skittering rush. His breath hitches just a bit, and Bakugo reaches up to brush the spot Midoriya lips’ just touched with his fingertips.
The vast expanse of the sky might be lit up with a million different dazzling colors, but it doesn’t compare, doesn’t even come close to the sight of Midoriya leaning back, stretching out over the grass. He’s smiling so warmly that Bakugo feels like spontaneously combusting, and he’s gazing skyward with awe and joy, surrounded by the pinprick sparkles of fireflies darting through the humid air.
And, well, fuck. How can mere fireworks compete with all that?
***
“Where are we going?”
“ ’S a surprise,” Bakugo says, casting a sideways glance over at Midoriya to make sure the other boy’s eyes are still closed. His palm is pressed into the small of Midoriya’s back, leading him down the sidewalk.
“Are we almost there yet?” Midoriya asks, one hand fisting in the hem of Bakugo’s shirt, the other covering his closed eyes. And Bakugo just snorts with amusement, shaking his head, because they’ve been walking for like, two minutes at most since they got out of the car. He leans in close.
“Shut up,” he murmurs into Midoriya’s ear. “And yes.”
“Yes?” Midoriya says, a little breathless, a little flustered, and Bakugo grins.
“Yeah, we’re here,” he says, tugging Midoriya’s hand down, and then he’s staring into Midoriya’s fucking Bambi-eyes, expressive and innocent and so goddamn green--
“You brought me to our high school?” Midoriya asks with a slight frown, looking around. “We were just here last week for graduation--”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo says with a scowl. “I know, nerd. But you said you wanted to go swimming.”
Realization dawns on Midoriya’s face as he realizes they’re standing in front of the school’s pool house, an industrial-looking creaky old building made of brick and glass and rusty corrugated iron.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya hisses, looking over his shoulder. “It’s nine on a weeknight, we can’t just break in--”
“Is it breaking in if I have a key?” Bakugo replies with a smarmy smirk, holding up a keychain and twirling it between his fingers.
“Yes!” Midoriya yells. “It’s still breaking in! Where did you even get those?”
“Kirishima let me have ’em. Had a copy made when he was workin’ as a lifeguard here last summer,” Bakugo says with a casual shrug, stepping forward and fiddling with the lock. Midoriya’s mumbling some protests under his breath, but Bakugo just catches his wrist and drags him inside.
Bakugo flicks the light switch and shuts the heavy door behind them, glancing over the water as fluorescent lights flicker on, one by one, with electric hums. The air inside the pool house is cool and dry compared to the sticky heat outside, and Bakugo lets out a sigh of relief as he lets go of Midoriya’s hand and pulls his shirt off in a single motion. He uses it to wipe a little sweat off his forehead, looking back in the direction of the door.
Midoriya stands by the door, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
“I didn’t, uh, bring a swimsuit,” he says. Bakugo rolls his eyes at that.
“I didn’t either. Let’s just swim in our boxers, or whatever,” he says, tossing his shirt at Midoriya, who does not look convinced.
“We’re gonna get in trouble, Kacchan--”
“What are they gonna do?” Bakugo demands. “Expel us? We already graduated.”
“I don’t know…”
“C’mon, Deku,” Bakkugo says playfully, kicking off his shoes. Midoriya’s face scrunches up in that adorable way it does when he gives in to whatever Bakugo’s latest scheme is, and corners of Bakugo’s lips quirk in a smile. He ducks his head, though, because if Midoriya sees the tender expression on Bakugo’s face, he’s never going to hear the end of it. Bakugo goes down on one knee, right by the pool’s edge, tugging off his socks one by one, when--
Two hands slam into his shoulders, sending him sprawling, face-first, into the pool with a splash that echoes through the cavernous pool house.
“You little shit,” Bakugo sputters, thrashing about and gasping, and he can hear Midoriya’s laughter ringing through the cool air.
“So clumsy, Kacchan,” Midoriya says, crouching by the water’s edge. Bakugo glowers back at him, slicking his wet hair back, and Midoriya dissolves into another fit of laughter.
“Fuckin’ nerd,” Bakugo growls. He grabs the edge of the pool with one hand and uses it to launch himself halfway out of the water. Midoriya tries to scramble back, startled, but he’s not fast enough to stop Bakugo’s other hand from grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt and pulling him into the pool, fully-clothed.
For a short moment, everything is flailing limbs and splashing water and sputtering, watery exclamations. Bakugo screws his eyes shut to stop water from getting in them, grimacing as Midoriya dunks his head briefly in the water. And when Midoriya breaks the surface of the water, hair plastered all over his face, looking like a drenched, pissed-off, half drowned dog, it’s Bakugo’s turn to snicker.
“You’re a dick, Kacchan,” Midoriya says, tugging at the collar of his soaked shirt and glaring at Bakugo reproachfully.
“You deserved it,” Bakugo shoots back, wrapping his arms around Midoriya and pulling him close. Midoriya lets out a disgruntled grumble, but lets his muscles relax until he’s fully folded into Bakugo’s embrace.
Midoriya digs his fingers into Bakugo’s side, and Bakugo’s wet jeans cling to his legs in the worst way possible, and Midoriya somehow managed to splash pool water up Bakugo’s nose. But none of that matters, not really, because--
Because heaven ain’t nothing but the taste of chlorinated water on Bakugo’s lips, and the feeling of Midoriya’s cheek pressed against Bakugo’s bare chest.
***
“Don’t you dare make a mess,” Bakugo mutters, handing the bag of popcorn to Midoriya. The other boy gives him a reassuring smile, shoving his hand into the bag without ceremony.
“Kacchan, when have I ever made a mess--”
“Can it, Freckles. I’m still finding crumbs in here from those potato chips you ate last week,” Bakugo says, putting the car in park and shutting off the engine, and Midoriya’s cheeks puff out in a small pout. “If you keep it up, I’m not letting you eat in here anymore.”
“But what if I get hungry, Kacchan?” Midoriya asks, a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well that Bakugo has never been able to say ‘no’ to him in the past, and probably never will be able to in the future. “It’s just a car--”
“Cheryl is not just a car, you fuckin’ nerd,” Bakugo says, crossing his arms. “She’s goddamn gorgeous and you know it. Watch your damn movie.”
Midoriya throws him another cheeky glance before looking straight ahead, where the opening credits of the movie are playing over the drive-in theater’s massive projector screen. The drive-in’s lot is packed to capacity this night, rows of gleaming chrome cars silent and still. Midoriya leans forward to fiddle with the radio, but Bakugo presses him back into his seat with one hand before Midoriya upsets the bag of popcorn in his lap.
“I’ll fuckin’ do it,” he says warily, turning the radio dial to the right channel. There’s a crackle of static, and then an old-timey spooky soundtrack starts playing over the car’s stereo system. Bakugo rolls his eyes, and Midoriya whoops with glee.
“It’s starting, Kacchan!” he says, squirming in his seat and sending popcorn bouncing all over the upholstery.
“I can see that,” Bakugo sighs, suppressing a smile as he reclines the driver’s side seat back to a more comfortable position. The credits end, and the movie starts playing. It’s some old black-and-white werewolf movie from the Stone Age, complete with fake-looking make-up and prosthetics, and the cheesiest dialogue Bakugo’s ever heard.
Midoriya’s having the fucking time of his life.
Bakugo watches him from the corner of eye, faintly amused, as Midoriya proceeds to freak out at every lame jump scare and cry out everytime the guy with the cheap wolf mask stumbles into the frame. Midoriya’s spilling popcorn everywhere, because of course he is, and Bakugo can’t even be mad, because he’s just so fucking--he’s so adorable, which isn’t a word Bakugo would ever see himself using, but it’s the only one that makes sense.
“You and your monster movies,” Bakugo says, shaking his head fondly. “I don’t get it. This isn’t even that scary.”
“Kacchan,” Midoriya says, unable to tear his gaze away from the movie, and with the tone of voice of someone explaining something to a young child. “The werewolf’s killed nine people already. That’s terrifying!”
“Yeah, okay nerd,” Bakugo says, his eyes drifting closed as he leans back in his chair and yawns widely. There’s dead silence, and Bakugo opens his eyes to find Midoriya staring at him like he’s just grown another head.
“What?” he says, confused, and Midoriya picks up a couple kernels of popcorn and throws them at Bakugo’s forehead. “Hey! I said not to make a mess!”
“I can’t believe you’re yawning at the climax of the film--” Midoriya says, incensed, throwing a couple more kernels for good measure, and Bakugo gasps as a couple disappear into the crack between the driver’s seat and the center console.
“Deku!” Bakugo groans. “That’s gonna take fuckin’ forever to get out--I’ll have to get the vacuum--”
Another kernel bounces off Bakugo’s nose, and he loses it.
“C’mhere,” he barks, lunging over the center console. Midoriya cackles, leaning back, and Bakugo pulls him back, and the popcorn--
It goes flying, spilling all over the front two seats. Bakugo doesn’t even spare a glance at the mess in his beloved car, though, because he’s sticking his freezing hands up Midoriya’s shirt and running his fingers over all the spots where he knows Midoriya is ticklish.
Midoriya yelps, then curls up as best he can, laughing so hard he can’t breathe, babbling and trying helplessly to push Bakugo’s hands away.
It’s not successful.
“K-kacchan! P-p-please!” Midoriya gasps breathlessly, trying to grab Bakugo by the wrists. “Stop it!”
“Fine,” Bakugo grins as he returns to his seat, ignoring the crunch of popcorn kernels as he settles down. “Think you learned your lesson, anyway.”
Midoriya uncurls himself, brushing popcorn out of his hair and shaking his head.
“You’re the worst,” he gripes. “We missed the part where the hunter fights the werewolf--”
“You deserved it! You were bein’ a brat--”
“I was not, and now we’re gonna have to rent this movie and watch it at your place,” Midoriya says, waving his hands around dramatically, and Bakugo’s trying to look surly, but the grin on his face won’t go away.
“Sounds like a deal to me,” he says, and Midoriya looks at him with a weird look in those mesmerizing green eyes. It’s a strange mix of emotions Bakugo can’t really separate; happiness, surprise, excitement--
Then Midoriya leans over and kisses Bakugo on the mouth.
And the girl in the monster movie is screaming over the radio as the werewolf hunts her down, but who the fuck cares, cause the whole world right now is the way Midoriya sighs against Bakugo’s mouth and the way Bakugo’s fingers card through Midoriya’s curly hair.
Midoriya tastes like salt and grease from the movie theater popcorn, and it’s the best fucking thing Bakugo’s ever tasted in his life, and all he’s thinking right now is that he’s making out to the sound of a werewolf mauling someone, and nothing has ever felt this good.