Chapter Text
The next morning came far too quickly, wrapped in the gentle warmth of the Miyakojima sun.
Most of the group was mildly hungover, so the ambitious plans for hiking and sightseeing were quietly scrapped in favor of a lazy morning by the hotel pool. The six of them claimed a spacious shaded cabana with plush lounge chairs and a large daybed overlooking the turquoise water. The sound of gentle waves and distant laughter drifted through the air as everyone moved slowly, nursing their headaches with sunglasses and plenty of water.
Izuku and Bakugo hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other all morning. The events of last night hung heavy between them — the heat of Bakugo’s hands, the way Izuku’s moans lingered in his mind, the quiet intimacy of falling asleep in each other’s arms. Every time their eyes accidentally met, Izuku’s face would heat up and Bakugo would look away with a tight jaw, both of them pretending nothing had happened.
Momo arrived at the cabana like a goddess of efficiency, carrying two large trays loaded with breakfast. “I took the liberty of ordering for everyone,” she said with a graceful smile. “Fruit platters, rice, grilled fish, miso soup, and some lighter options in case anyone’s stomach is still sensitive.”
“You’re a saint, Momo,” Ochako groaned happily, already reaching for a plate as she flopped onto one of the lounge chairs.
The group gathered around the low table in the cabana, digging into the food with sleepy enthusiasm. Kirishima and Denki were still half-dead, complaining dramatically about the soju while stuffing their faces. Ochako and Momo chatted about which beach they might visit later. Izuku sat cross-legged on the daybed, picking at his food and stealing glances at Bakugo, who was sprawled in a chair across from him, quietly eating with his usual scowl.
The tension between them was subtle but constant. Every moment of eye contact made Izuku’s stomach flip. Bakugo’s crimson eyes would flick toward him occasionally, unreadable, before returning to his plate.
“So,” Momo said brightly, wiping her hands on a napkin, “what does everyone want to do today? We can stay here and relax, or maybe head to the beach once the sun isn’t so brutal?”
As the group began discussing plans, Izuku risked another glance at Bakugo. This time, their eyes met and held for a second longer than necessary. Bakugo’s expression softened just slightly before he looked away again.
Bakugo leaned back in his lounge chair, arms crossed behind his head, and spoke up for the first time that morning. “We should rent bikes. Motor bikes. There’s gotta be a place nearby. Everyone can pair up and ride around the island instead of being stuck on foot all day.”
Izuku stayed quiet, poking at a piece of fruit on his plate. The suggestion instantly pulled his mind back to that night three weeks ago — the cool wind whipping past them as he clung to Bakugo’s back on his motorcycle, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, heart racing from more than just the speed. He felt his cheeks warm and quickly looked down, hoping no one noticed.
“Hell yeah!” Denki perked up immediately, his hangover seemingly forgotten. “I’ve been dying to drive one. I call shotgun on being a driver. No way I’m riding bitch the whole time.”
Ochako laughed. “You’ll probably crash us into a palm tree, but sure.”
Momo and Ochako already had their phones out, fingers tapping away. “There’s a rental shop just ten minutes from the hotel,” Momo said, tilting her screen so Ochako could see. “They have scooters and proper motorbikes. Looks like they do guided tours too, but we can just rent them hourly or for the day.”
Ochako scrolled through the photos. “Oh, these look fun! The reviews say the roads along the coast are really pretty. We should check their availability.”
The girls continued comparing options and prices, showing the screen to Kirishima and Denki, who both leaned in with interest. Bakugo glanced briefly toward Izuku, his expression unreadable, before looking away again.
The tension between them simmered quietly beneath the casual conversation, last night still fresh and unspoken.
Momo looked up from her phone with a satisfied smile. “I went ahead and booked the motorbike rentals for later this afternoon. That way we can avoid the worst of the midday sun. We have a few hours to kill until then.”
“Perfect,” Ochako said, already standing up and stretching. “Pool time!”
The group quickly migrated from the cabana into the sparkling turquoise pool. Ochako and Momo stayed near the shallow end, chatting and lazily floating on inflatable rings while working on their tans. Denki and Kirishima, on the other hand, were already causing chaos — splashing each other aggressively, attempting ridiculous flips off the edge, and shouting loud enough to draw amused glances from other guests.
Bakugo sat on the edge of the pool a little further down, legs dangling in the cool water, arms braced behind him. He watched the madness with a bored expression, occasionally kicking water at Denki when he got too close.
His gaze eventually drifted over to Izuku, who was still sitting in the shaded area of the cabana, knees drawn up to his chest and staring off toward the beach in the distance.
Bakugo clicked his tongue, pushed himself up, and walked over. He stopped right in front of Izuku, towering over him with his arms crossed.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Izuku blinked up at him, startled. “Huh? Nothing… I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been weird and quiet all morning.” Bakugo narrowed his eyes, studying him. “Spit it out, Deku.”
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not sure… Maybe I’m just sleepy from last night. The soju and everything.”
Bakugo didn’t buy it for a second. He crouched down in front of him, lowering his voice so only Izuku could hear. “Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding looking at me since we woke up. Is this about last night? You regretting it or something?”
Izuku quickly shook his head, eyes widening. “No! No, I don’t regret anything,” he said earnestly, voice low. “Last night was… really good. I meant what I said.”
Bakugo’s expression softened further, the usual scowl fading into something quieter. He shifted closer, still crouched in front of Izuku so their conversation stayed private. “Then what’s really wrong? Don’t bullshit me, Deku.”
Izuku hesitated, biting his lip as he stared at his hands. After a moment, he spoke softly, almost embarrassed. “It just feels weird… We were so close last night. You held me while we slept and everything. But today, in front of everyone, it’s like we’re barely even friends again. I don’t know… it feels distant.”
Bakugo was quiet for a second, processing. He let out a slow breath and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Tch. Look… I don’t want the others knowing shit about what’s going on between us,” he said, voice low and serious. “Not yet. And it’s not like we’re even dating or anything. We haven’t talked about that. I’m not gonna start acting all couple-y in front of the others just because we fooled around once.”
He paused, then added, a little gentler, “Doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you. Just… keeping it between us for now. Got it?”
Izuku felt a small pang in his chest at Bakugo’s words, a quiet hurt settling in. They weren’t dating. They hadn’t even come close to talking about what any of this meant. Everything between them was confusing, messy, and undefined — and that realization stung more than he wanted to admit.
Still, he understood where Bakugo was coming from.
“I get it,” Izuku said softly, offering a small, understanding smile even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re not… dating or anything. Sorry for being so moody this morning. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Stop apologizing, idiot. You’re not some burden.” He stood up and jerked his head toward the pool. “Come on. Get in the water with me.”
Izuku hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah… okay.”
He followed Bakugo over to the pool and sat on the edge beside him, dipping his legs into the cool water. The contrast between the warm island air and the refreshing pool felt nice. Across from them, Denki and Kiri were still acting like complete idiots — wrestling over an inflatable ball, splashing water everywhere, and shouting loud enough to make Ochako and Momo laugh from the shallow end.
Izuku watched them with a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. Bakugo sat close enough that their feet brushed under the water, a silent reminder that even if things were complicated in public, he wasn’t pulling away completely.
A few hours later
After a light lunch back at the cabana — mostly sandwiches, fresh fruit, and cold drinks — the group headed back to their rooms to change. Most of them swapped into lighter clothes suitable for riding: t-shirts, shorts or comfortable pants, and sneakers. Izuku threw on a simple green tee and cargo shorts, his mind still replaying the quiet conversation he’d had with Bakugo earlier.
They walked together down the sunny road to the motorbike rental shop, the warm island breeze ruffling their hair. The shop was small but well-organized, with rows of scooters and motorbikes lined up outside.
As they sorted out the rentals and signed the paperwork, Kirishima grinned and slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “Yo, Bakugo! You and me on one bike, man? We’d be unstoppable!”
Bakugo shrugged him off without hesitation. “No. I’m riding with Deku.”
The words came out firm, leaving no room for argument. Kirishima blinked in surprise but quickly recovered with a sharp-toothed grin. “Oh? Alright then, no problem!”
Denki whistled playfully but didn’t comment. Momo and Ochako exchanged a quick glance. The rest of the group simply accepted it without protest, busy picking their own pairs and adjusting helmets.
Ochako turned toward Izuku and gave him a warm, knowing smile — soft and a little teasing, like she suspected something but wasn’t going to push. Izuku’s cheeks warmed under her gaze, and he looked away, fiddling with the strap of his helmet.
Bakugo swung his leg over one of the bikes and jerked his head toward the seat behind him. “Get on, nerd.”
Izuku nodded, heart beating a little faster as he climbed on behind Bakugo and wrapped his arms around his waist — just like he had weeks ago on that late-night ride. The familiar warmth of Bakugo’s body against his chest made memories from last night flash through his mind.
The engines rumbled to life around them, and the group prepared to head out along the scenic coastal roads.
Momo raised her voice to be heard over the rumbling of the engines. “Everyone! The main coastal road loops around the southern part of the island. Stay together, but don’t go too fast on the peak turns — they can be sharp and a little slippery. Keep your eyes on the road and each other!”
The group nodded, adjusting their helmets. With a final thumbs-up from Kirishima, they pulled out of the rental shop lot one by one. Bakugo took the lead naturally, his bike roaring to life with a deep, satisfying growl that felt familiar and comforting under him.
The warm island wind rushed past them as they picked up speed along the scenic road. Palm trees and bright blue ocean stretched out on one side, while lush green hills rose on the other. The helmets were equipped with built-in earpieces that connected the riders on each bike, allowing them to talk to their partners and the rest of the group.
Bakugo waited until they were a little ways down the road before reaching up and flicking a switch on the side of his helmet, changing the setting from group to private — single mode with just Izuku.
“You good back there?” he asked, voice low and clear through the earpiece.
Izuku tightened his arms slightly around Bakugo’s waist, chest pressed against his back. The familiar position brought back a rush of memories, but the warm sun and beautiful scenery helped ease the tension in his shoulders.
“Yeah,” Izuku replied, a soft smile in his voice. “I’m good. Really good, actually. The views out here are incredible, Kacchan.”
Bakugo let out a short huff, but Izuku could hear the faint smirk in his tone. “Tch. Don’t get too distracted and fall off, nerd.”
Despite the teasing, Bakugo’s hand briefly left the handlebar to give Izuku’s thigh a quick, reassuring squeeze before returning to the controls. The road stretched ahead of them, open and full of possibility.
They rode in comfortable silence for a while, the roar of the engine and the wind filling the space between them. The island’s beauty unfolded around them — turquoise ocean sparkling under the sun, dramatic cliffs dropping toward the sea, and lush greenery swaying in the breeze. In the side mirrors, Izuku could see the rest of the group trailing behind them, a good distance back but still in sight.
Bakugo took the winding road with confidence, leaning into the curves smoothly. Eventually they reached the peak lookout point first. He slowed the bike and pulled over onto the gravel shoulder, killing the engine.
The view was breathtaking — a panoramic sweep of the island’s coastline, endless blue water meeting the sky, with distant islands visible on the horizon.
Bakugo snapped his visor open and turned slightly in the seat, looking back at Izuku. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the tension from the past 24 hours thickening the air between them.
Then Bakugo spoke, voice low and uncharacteristically raw through the helmet’s earpiece.
“I really like you, Deku.”
Izuku’s breath caught.
“I’m… scared shitless about it,” Bakugo continued, eyes locked on his. “Because we’re both guys. Because this is fucking complicated. But I know I like you. A lot. And I want you to like me back.”
Izuku’s heart slammed against his ribs. His mouth opened to respond — but before he could get a single word out, the rumble of the other bikes grew louder. Kirishima, Denki, and the girls pulled up beside them, laughter and loud voices cutting through the intimate moment.
“Whoa! This view is insane!” Kirishima shouted, already yanking his helmet off.
Ochako whistled. “We’re definitely taking pictures here!”
The moment shattered. Bakugo turned forward again, jaw tight, visor snapping shut as he tried to play it cool. Izuku sat frozen behind him, cheeks burning, mind racing with everything he wanted to say.
The group killed their engines and climbed off the bikes, stretching their legs after the ride. Ochako and Momo immediately pulled out their phones, gushing over the view and snapping pictures of the coastline and each other.
“Whoa, this is actually insane,” Kirishima said, walking closer to the edge with Denki. Both boys stood in awed silence for a moment, taking in the sweeping panorama.
Momo glanced around and politely flagged down a passing tourist. “Excuse me! Would you mind taking a group photo for us?”
The kind stranger agreed, and everyone quickly gathered together. They lined up near the railing with the stunning ocean backdrop behind them. Bakugo casually took the spot on the far end — right next to Izuku.
As the tourist raised the phone and counted down, Bakugo’s arm slid around Izuku’s waist, his hand settling firmly on his hip. The touch was bold and possessive, hidden from the others’ direct view but impossible for Izuku to ignore.
“Smile~!” Ochako called out cheerfully.
Izuku’s smile came easily this time — bright, warm, and far more genuine than it had been all morning. The weight of Bakugo’s arm around him, the solid presence at his side after that raw confession just moments ago, made something flutter warmly in his chest. Bakugo, on the other hand, kept his usual intense expression, barely smiling at all. He just stared straight at the camera like he always did, but his thumb brushed lightly against Izuku’s hip in a small, secret motion.
The tourist snapped several photos before handing Momo’s phone back. The group broke formation, chatting excitedly and checking the results, but Bakugo’s arm lingered on Izuku’s waist for just a second longer before he finally let go.
“Look! These turned out so well!” she said happily, holding the screen up for the others. The picture was perfect — the golden hour lighting, the dramatic ocean backdrop, and all six of them lined up together. Even Bakugo’s usual scowl looked good in the scenic shot.
Everyone crowded in to compliment the photo and laugh at Denki’s exaggerated peace sign. Izuku smiled along with them, but his attention kept drifting to Bakugo, who had stepped slightly to the side, lingering near the railing. His expression was unreadable as he stared out at the view, the weight of his earlier confession still hanging heavy in the air between them. With the whole group surrounding them, there was no chance for Izuku to respond.
Ochako glanced up at the sky, noticing how the light was beginning to shift into softer oranges and pinks. “It’s starting to get dark soon. We should probably head back down the peak before the roads get too tricky.”
“Yeah, good call,” Kirishima agreed, stretching his arms. “We can grab dinner after we return the bikes.”
The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Helmets were pulled back on, and everyone mounted their bikes once more. Bakugo swung his leg over their shared bike without a word, waiting for Izuku to climb on behind him.
As Izuku settled in and wrapped his arms around Bakugo’s waist again, he gave a gentle squeeze — a silent promise that they would talk later. Bakugo didn’t say anything, but his hand briefly covered Izuku’s for a moment before he started the engine.
The group roared back to life and began their descent down the winding road as the sun slowly dipped toward the horizon.
The drive back down the peak was just as breathtaking as the ride up. The setting sun painted the sky in vibrant shades of orange, pink, and gold, casting a warm glow over the ocean and the winding coastal road. The wind had cooled slightly, making the ride feel peaceful and almost cinematic.
For a while, they rode in silence. Izuku kept his arms wrapped securely around Bakugo’s waist, cheek resting lightly against his back as he soaked in the view. The confession from earlier kept replaying in his head.
Finally, Izuku spoke through the private earpiece, voice soft.
“Sorry about earlier… when the group showed up right in the middle of what you were saying. I wanted to respond, but—”
“Don’t apologize,” Bakugo cut him off, his voice gruff but not angry. “It’s whatever.” There was a short pause before he continued, sounding unusually tense. “It just feels fucking awkward now. You haven’t said anything back, so I feel like an idiot for putting that shit out there.”
Izuku’s heart clenched. His arms tightened around Bakugo’s waist, hands fisting slightly in his shirt as he gathered his courage.
“I like you too, Kacchan,” he said quietly, the words tumbling out before he could overthink them. “I’ve liked you for a little while now. Maybe longer than I realized.”
Bakugo’s body tensed slightly under his grip, but he stayed silent, listening.
“I’m… I’m scared too,” Izuku admitted, voice shaking just a little. “About what people might think. About what it means that we’re both guys. It feels complicated and new and kind of terrifying. But I do like you. A lot.”
The roar of the engine and the wind filled the space between them for a few heartbeats. Bakugo’s hand left the handlebar for a brief second, resting over Izuku’s clasped hands on his stomach and giving them a firm squeeze before returning to the controls.
“…Tch. Good,” Bakugo finally muttered, though the relief in his voice was unmistakable. “We’ll figure the rest out later. Just don’t overthink it and fall off the damn bike.”
Izuku let out a small, nervous laugh and pressed closer against Bakugo’s back, the golden sunset wrapping around them as they continued down the mountain road.
They eventually made it back to the motorbike rental shop just as the sky was deepening into twilight. The group handed over the helmets and keys, thanked the staff, and began the short walk back to the hotel. The mood was light and tired — everyone chatting about the views and joking about how sore their legs would be tomorrow — but Izuku felt hyper-aware of every step he took beside Bakugo.
When they finally reached their shared room, the tension between them became almost suffocating. The confessions from the ride hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the noise from the hallway.
“You can shower first,” Bakugo said gruffly, not quite meeting Izuku’s eyes. He kicked off his shoes and dropped into the armchair by the large window, turning it slightly so he could stare out at the darkening ocean.
Izuku nodded quickly. “O-okay. Thanks.”
The bathroom door closed behind him, and Bakugo let out a long breath, elbows resting on his knees as he watched the waves crash against the shore in the distance. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the words they’d exchanged on the bike. The vulnerability of it all still felt foreign and raw.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again. Izuku stepped out, hair still damp and slightly messy, wearing a fresh black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. A faint scent of the hotel’s coconut shampoo followed him. He hesitated for a second near the doorway before walking over to where Bakugo was sitting.
Izuku stopped beside the chair, looking down at him. The soft glow of the bedside lamp mixed with the fading twilight from the window, casting gentle shadows across Bakugo’s face.
“What are you thinking about?” Izuku asked quietly, voice gentle but clearly nervous.
Bakugo didn’t look up at him. He simply sighed again, deeper this time, shoulders slumping slightly in the chair. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “I’m just tired from today. All that riding and shit.”
He pushed himself up and headed toward the bathroom without another word, leaving Izuku standing there with his thoughts.
When Bakugo emerged a while later, freshly showered, he was wearing an almost identical outfit — a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. The familiar, slightly spicy scent of his cologne filled the room as he sprayed it on. His damp hair was still messy, a few strands sticking up at odd angles.
Izuku had taken his place in the armchair by the window, quietly watching the last traces of sunset over the ocean. Bakugo walked over slowly, stopping right in front of him.
Without warning, he reached down and gently tilted Izuku’s head backward with two fingers under his chin. Izuku’s breath hitched as Bakugo leaned down and kissed him — slow, deep, and surprisingly soft. The kiss lingered, warm and grounding after the emotional weight of the day.
When Bakugo finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his fingers traced lightly over Izuku’s cheek, then the other, his touch feather-soft as he murmured under his breath.
“…Thirty-four… thirty-five… thirty-six.”
Izuku blinked, confused but flushed. “What are you counting?”
Bakugo’s thumb brushed over a cluster of freckles near Izuku’s nose. “I think you have thirty-six freckles on your face,” he said quietly, voice rough but honest. “But I’m not completely sure. I counted them last night while you were sleeping… in the dark.”
Izuku’s face flushed a deep, burning pink. The warmth spread all the way to his ears as he stared up at Bakugo, heart stuttering in his chest.
He counted my freckles? The thought echoed loudly in his mind. The idea of Bakugo quietly tracing his face while he slept — carefully counting every speck — made something warm and overwhelming bloom in his chest. He couldn’t quite name the feeling. It was more than embarrassment. More than affection. It felt dangerously close to something bigger.
Bakugo’s lips twitched with the faintest smirk as he noticed the intense blush, but before Izuku could find any words, Bakugo straightened up and jerked his thumb toward the door.
“Tch. Everyone else is already ready and waiting downstairs for dinner. Let’s go before those idiots start blowing up our phones.”
Izuku blinked, still a little dazed, and nodded quickly as he stood up from the chair. “R-right. Dinner. Yeah.”
He followed Bakugo toward the door, the ghost of Bakugo’s fingers still lingering on his cheeks and the quiet confession about counting his freckles replaying in his head with every step.