“I’m gonna miss you.”
Bakugou looks over from where he’s shoving the last of his laundry into a mesh bag. Kirishima is sprawled out facedown on his bed, sulking. “Well get over it.”
Bakugou pulls the drawstrings on the bag shut.
Kirishima shoves himself up onto his elbows. “Come on! You can’t even say you’ll miss me back?”
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
“That is a lie,” Kirishima accuses. “You’re gonna miss me so much. You’re gonna text me every day, asking for dates and for me to come over and hold your hand and make out with you and get us off.”
“Forget that, you can get yourself off,” Bakugou drawls, slipping his phone from his pocket to shoot his father a text. “I’m going to enjoy my summer by never seeing your face during it.”
“Except for at the training camp.”
Bakugou almost manages to hide the way his fingers pause before he hits ‘send.’ “Whatever.”
Kirishima, of course, can’t just let that go and slides from his bed to come up behind Bakugou, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his forehead against the back of Bakugou’s shoulder. “Do you wanna just not go? We can do something else, go to a theme park or just hang out.”
Bakugou takes a moment to debate throwing his elbow back into Kirishima’s stupid face and stalking out. “Why the fuck would I not want to go to a training camp that literally our entire year is going to?” Bakugou growls.
“Get the fuck off me.” Bakugou doesn’t elbow Kirishima in the face, but he does wrestle out of his grip and shove him back, grabbing his laundry bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He makes the mistake of looking up at Kirishima and spots him scraping his teeth gently over his bottom lip. Fuck. He’s going to have to fight really hard against texting Kirishima the second he wakes up tomorrow, just to prove a point. “I’m going, and you’re sure as hell going. We’re all going. None of us are cowards.”
“You’re not a coward,” Kirishima says softly.
“What the fuck did I just say? I know that.”
Kirishima reaches for Bakugou’s wrist, circling it slowly with his fingers. Bakugou’s phone buzzes in his hand. “I’m gonna miss you so much. Even if we text every day and go on dates.”
Bakugou absolutely cannot let on how much he feels the same. Those words can never escape his mouth, but judging by the way Kirishima leans in to kiss him they don’t even need to. His cover’s already blown by the way he’s ignoring his phone buzzing again and tilting his head into the kiss, eyes shut. The laundry bag gets heavy in his grip so he drops it, which leaves him with a free hand he can use to grip the stupid ponytail Kirishima’s been keeping his hair in when he doesn’t have to go to class. Stupid fucking thing is even dumber looking than his sky-high spikes, but at least it’s better than it all hanging in his face. It’s so stupid.
Kirishima hums when Bakugou scrapes his nails over his scalp. Bakugou’s phone buzzes again, so he tosses the damn thing onto his bed and buries his other hand in Kirishima’s hair too. Kirishima’s hands find his waist and pull him closer and Bakugou presses down a little to slip his tongue into Kirishima’s mouth, dragging over one of the points of his teeth. “Shit,” Kirishima whispers, voice shaky and breathless. Bakugou wants to record that fucking word and listen to it over and over and over again, all summer.
“Hey Bakugou, someone’s out front looking f- oh guys, come on. The door’s not even shut.”
“Fuck off Soy Sauce,” Bakugou mutters, opening his eyes just enough to take in how Kirishima’s eyelashes are fanning over his blushed cheeks. Fuck.
“Your dad’s out front, man.”
Kirishima licks his lips, finally opening his eyes. “You better go.”
“Trying to get rid of me, asshole? Thought you were gonna miss me sooo much,” Bakugou mutters.
“Damn it,” Kirishima groans, wrapping his arms around Bakugou’s neck. “I am. Dammit dude, I already miss you and you aren’t even gone yet.”
“Get off me,” Bakugou says. Kirishima takes it as an invitation to hop up and wrap his legs around Bakugou’s waist instead. “Fucker, get the fuck off me. This is like the least manliest thing you’ve ever fucking done.”
“I know,” Kirishima mumbles into Bakugou’s neck.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Seriously, you’re embarrassing everybody,” calls Sero from the door.
“Promise you’ll text me.”
Bakugou sends a glare at the door, but Sero just grins at him and leans against the doorjamb. Bastard. “…fine. I. Promise I’ll text your stupid ass.”
“Get off of me Kirishima!”
“Had a hard time getting away, huh?” his dad muses as Bakugou finally manages to hurl his bag into the back of the car and throw himself into the front seat. When they don’t move Bakugou glares at his father, only to see him point at his passenger side window.
Kirishima is standing there, about to tap on the glass.
“Drive,” says Bakugou. His father rolls down the passenger side window instead.
“Hi Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima says, waving.
His dad leans over. “Hey there Eijirou. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, really good. My little sister’s apparently bouncing off the walls about me coming back for the summer. I’m just waiting for my mom to get off work so she can come get me.”
“Need a lift?”
“Nah, it’s okay. UA’s on the way home anyhow. Thanks for the offer, sir.”
“Oh my god,” Bakugou groans, sinking down in his seat. “Fuckin’ exchange phone numbers already. Kirishima. Go away.”
“Ahhhh! Bakugou, you were gonna leave without telling anybody else?!” Ashido comes running from the dorms and Bakugou wants to bang his head against the dashboard until he knocks himself out.
Asui comes ambling out after her, carting along her own bags. “Are you really surprised?” She sets her bags down on the sidewalk and sits on one of them. “He has an image to keep up, after all.”
Ashido is having none of it. “Bakugou!” She stamps her foot. “I can’t believe you weren’t gonna say goodbye to me!”
Okay well he can’t stand for that, the whole presuming that they’re friends thing. Bakugou half-lunges out the window, shoving Kirishima aside so he can shout, “That would be because I don’t fucking care about you!”
Uraraka calls across the courtyard, “He was probably worried he would start crying.”
“Of happiness, bitch! Graduation day is going to be the fucking pinnacle of my social life because I’ll never have to see any of you assholes again!” He glares up at Kirishima, who has turned away from him, shaking. “Fucking stop laughing! This is your fault! I could’ve been out of here by now!”
“Ah haha,” Kirishima snorts, not even bothering to hide his grin. “That’s right. You forgot your wristband.” He pulls the leather strap from his pocket and hands it over. It was a present, some stupid couples thing they did during Christmas where they exchanged gifts. Kirishima had gotten him this leather strap that admittedly didn’t look fucking awful, carefully worn and with a skull burned into it. Bakugou takes it and pretends that his face isn’t turning red when he remembers how shitty his giftcard-to-a-coffee-place present had been in return.
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Kirishima is saying.
“Whatever,” Bakugou mutters.
“Bye, Mr. Bakugou! Nice talking to you.”
“See you around Eijirou, take care of yourself. Say hi to your family for me.”
Bakugou doesn’t push himself back up to sit properly until they’re nearly off the hill the school’s built upon. His phone is in his hands before he realizes what he’s doing and he angrily shoves it away.
“You like that boy quite a bit, huh?” Bakugou’s dad has the audacity to sound amused.
“He’s fucking annoying.”
“He’s good for you.” His dad glances over. “Could you get your seatbelt on, kiddo?”
“Don’t call me that.” Bakugou waits a reasonable amount of time before complying, so his dad doesn’t think it’s because he asked.
“Listen Katsuki, about that training camp…”
Bakugou throws his head back and groans.
“Now come on son, don’t be like that. Your mother and I are just trying to do what’s best for you.”
“No you’re not, you’re hovering! Fuck! I’m seventeen and I’ll go to the fucking camp if I want to, got it?”
“I want to make sure you’re not going because you’re trying to push yourself,” his dad says gently.
“I’m not. I’m going because I’m training to be a professional hero, god damn it! Everybody else is going and I’m not falling behind. I’m not gonna say it again!”
“I’m just not so sure this is a good idea to begin with.” His dad taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “For any of you kids. It’s even in the mountains again, couldn’t they have picked somewhere different?”
“It is somewhere different, it’s in the opposite direction as the last place. Shockingly, there’s mountains all over. Fucking relax.”
“Katsuki, you…” His dad shakes his head. “You don’t know what it’s like, to open your door and see the police standing there to tell you that your son’s been kidnapped. You just don’t understand what that does to a parent. I hope you never do.”
Bakugou sinks back down into his seat. His phone is too warm in his hands and he shoves it back into his pocket, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. “Whatever,” he grunts after a moment, staring out the window, “you guys worry too fucking much.”
He ignores it when he dad reaches over and pats his knee, and he ignores it when his dad turns on the radio to fill the silence with noise. His phone sits heavy in his pocket.
One week until the camp.