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“Oh, fuckin’ hell, of course.”
Shouto looks at Bakugou in confusion and only then feels the drops on his arm. He looks up to see rain slipping past the gaps in the train station’s overhead covering. Bakugou is on his feet the moment the wind turns torrential, flinging the rain in their direction. Swearing profusely, he flips up his uniform jacket like a makeshift umbrella over his head.
“Oi, come on, dumbass!” He shouts over the noise at Shouto who is still sitting on their bench, blinking at the sudden storm. Bakugou jerks his head to a corner pillar before rushing toward it. Shouto quickly follows.
The wall of water continues to drench their backs but less so away from the open air of the tracks. Bakugou’s mouth remains as filthy as ever as they huddle near the pillar.
“Stupid fuckin’ rural community internships and stupid fuckin’ trains that can’t be on time and stupi—fuckin’ Sensei and his busted ass car and stupid fuckin’ rain.”
Shouto lets Bakugou rant aloud, silently relishing the way he presses close to Shouto, shoulder to shoulder. He warms up his left side and gets a grunt of thanks. The ranting peters off along with the wind, the sound of only the rain filling the space.
The station is quite empty save for a middle-aged man on the far end. The spot where they were sitting now has a puddle.
“We could go sit over there instead,” Shouto suggests, pointing to a bench two down from their first one. “Not as wet.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And the wind has stopped.”
“For now.”
Shouto turns to Bakugou again, hand itching to smooth out the damp spikes. Maybe help dry them out.
“Or we could just stand here too, I suppose,” Shouto says and Bakugou gives a quick nod of assent. Presses even closer, making Shouto’s heart race faster. Yes, he thinks this is better. There was too much distance between them on the bench.
“‘M gonna text Sensei to tell him we’re runnin’ late,” Bakugou says after a while.
“Okay.”
Shouto watches as Bakugou thumbs out his message, muttering about stupid late trains yet again.
Just then, the wind kicks back in and Shouto senses the ensuing power of it before it hits them. On instinct, Shouto steps over and in front of Bakugou who has his head bowed over his phone.
“What the fuck’re you—”
The wind blows hard, the rain violently careening their way. And dousing Shouto’s back fully. Then steams up easily with a flash of his quirk.
Bakugou stares at him, blinking away the tiny droplets caught on his lashes. It’s pretty. Other than that he’s no wetter than before. Shouto smiles, satisfied.
“I know you hate the rain,” is all he says to Bakugou. They’re even closer now. Shouto can feel his breath.
“..Right.”
And then there are lips on his, soft and warm and wet. Shouto kisses Bakugou back, delighted. Eager.
A train horn bids them to part. Bakugou grins at him, cheeks pink.
“My room when we get back, yeah?”
Shouto smiles, excitement thrumming through his veins. “Yeah.”