The summer training camp was supposed to be a break.
A chance to sharpen skills, bond as a class, and escape the pressure of U.A.'s looming expectations. But for Y/N and Bakugo, it was something else entirely — their first real test as a public couple.
The bus ride to the mountain facility had been uneventful, save for Mina's relentless teasing and Kaminari's not-so-subtle attempts to sit between them. Bakugo had scowled the entire time, arms crossed, jaw tight, while Y/N tried to laugh it off.
Now, standing in the clearing outside the cabins, the heat was oppressive. The sun beat down like a challenge, and the air shimmered with humidity.
Aizawa stood at the front, clipboard in hand. "You'll be training in pairs. Rotating every two hours. No exceptions."
Bakugo's eyes flicked toward Y/N.
Aizawa smirked. "You won't be paired together."
Bakugo muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like bullshit.
Y/N elbowed him gently. "We'll survive."
He didn't answer.
But his hand brushed hers— just for a second. Just enough.
—
The first rotation was with Todoroki.
Y/N stood across from him, sweat already trickling down her spine, pulse steady.
Todoroki's expression was unreadable. "Ready?"
Y/N nodded. "Always."
They sparred in silence, ice and fire clashing against sound waves. Todoroki was precise, controlled, but there was something different in the way he moved — something sharper. His gaze lingered too long. His questions were too personal.
"You and Bakugo," he said between strikes. "It's unexpected."
Y/N dodged a blast of ice. "Why?"
"He's volatile. You're not."
Y/N countered with a pulse wave. "We balance each other."
Todoroki paused. "Do you trust him?"
Y/N blinked. "Yes."
He nodded slowly. "Then I hope he trusts you."
The words hung in the air — heavy, pointed.
Y/N didn't respond.
But something in her chest tightened.
—
Later, during cooldown, Bakugo found Y/N by the stream, shirt clinging to his chest, hair damp with sweat.
"You okay?" he asked.
Y/N nodded. "Todoroki was... intense."
Bakugo's jaw flexed. "He say something?"
"Just questions."
Bakugo stepped closer. "You don't owe him answers."
"I know."
He reached out, fingers brushing Y/N's wrist. "You're mine."
Y/N smiled. "I know."
He leaned in, lips brushing theirs — slow, deliberate, grounding.
Behind them, the trees rustled.
And the heat between them burned brighter than the sun.
—
That night, the cabins were quiet.
Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Bakugo's words echoing in their head. You're mine.
It wasn't possessive.
It was protective.
It was real.
Their phone buzzed.
K: Meet me. Behind the mess hall.
Y/N slipped out, heart racing.
Bakugo was waiting, hoodie pulled low, eyes shadowed.
He didn't speak.
Just pulled her into his arms.
They kissed — slow, deep, hungry.
And in the dark, they didn't have to explain.
They just had to feel.