Snowed In

Part 9

The afternoon seems to go by in a flash. There's more snowboarding, more skiing, more shoving snow in each other's faces. When they get tired, they all sit down and drink more tea in an attempt to keep their hands warm, but in the process their butts go numb from sitting in the snow. It's good; it's fun. Bakugou finds himself enjoying the time more than he ever thought he would. It feels like a less stressful firehouse environment where instead of being aware that at any moment he would have to run off to put out a blaze he was blissfully unaware of the rest of the world moving around him. It's a vacation where he finally feels like he wants to stay.

There isn't another moment alone with Kirishima, however. Any time Bakugou attempted, it was quickly ruined whether it was from one of his friends catching up or Riot running over, trying to tackle either of them down into the snow to play. It was frustrating to say the least, especially now that every single time he looked at Kirishima all he could focus on were his lips, red and chapped from the cold, probably terrible right now to kiss, but Bakugou really wanted to see that for himself. Any time he caught Kirishima's eye for longer than a moment he could see a red tint rise up in the man's cheeks, telling him that this wasn't just a fluke; Kirishima was well aware of what happened, what almost happened, and Bakugou desperately hoped they'd be able to continue sometime soon, even if the idea makes him feel guilty about having it.

It feels wrong, as if he's leading Kirishima on with something that won't actually stick. He's not staying, after all, he still needs to leave. This isn't his home, these aren't his friends, and Kirishima is a one night stand, maybe two, at best. Whatever fairy tale bubble this space is in will pop eventually.

Still, Bakugou can't help himself. He hates it. He's greedy.

The sun starts to dip lower in the sky, the bright blue softly giving way to a warm pink as the shadows grow long across the mountain. They pack up, finally, tired and worn with hungry stomachs and noses ready to fall off from the cold. Ashido moves towards Sero's car, stating she'll drive back with him this time which Bakugou quietly thanks her. Nothing's been said, but he figures she's taken note as the day has gone on. As soon as Kaminari turns towards the truck, she's quick to grab his arm and yank him back, shoving him into the backseat of the car as he whines about being delicate and bruising. Again, Bakugou thanks her, knowing for a fact he would kill the blond if he came between him and Kirishima again.

When Kirishima notices the car arrangement, he pauses with his hand on the door handle, looking back and forth, mouth gaping, and for a second Bakugou thinks he might have misread the situation entirely. Impossible.

"Just get in, Shitty Hair," Bakugou rolls his eyes, slamming his own door shut as he slides into the passenger's seat.

The nickname is sticking.

Kirishima follows along into the car quickly.

It doesn't feel right to jump a guy while he's driving, especially while trying to navigate through thick snow, and even more so with his dog in the backseat. It becomes even more of a bad idea with Bakugou knowing the trio is following close behind them and any jerking movements from the truck would signal something is wrong.

Still, as they make their way down the mountain, Bakugou thinks about it.

He thinks about Kirishima in his house, walking around without a shirt on near constantly, never seeming to get cold and wonders just how warm he would be in bed. Bakugou might not even need a blanket with that warm, muscled, weight on top of him. He thinks about his bright smile, even brighter eyes, and can feel his chest tighten at the mental image. They're close, so close right now in this truck, all Bakugou has to do is lean across the console and take him. It's bad. He shouldn't. Bakugou would never call himself desperate, but he's starting to understand what people mean when they say it.