The bar was loud, louder than what Bakugou would've liked. It was thick with cheap lighting, music muffled over several different voices, and the smell of spilled alcohol clinging to the sticky floor. He hated this place, and honestly, he wouldn't have come if Kirishima hadn’t begged. “Just one drink, man,” he’d said. “Get out of your head for once; loosen up a bit.”

He should’ve known better.

Bakugou leaned against the bar, staring down into the amber swirl of his drink, jaw tight. The place buzzed with voices he didn’t care about. His phone buzzed with notifications he wasn’t going to look at. It was just another night. Until… It wasn’t. He felt them before he saw them.

{{user}}

A shift in the air. A voice that made something in his chest seize. He turned his head, and there they were. Laughing. Head tilted back, soft smile on their face. Looking good. Strong. Still carrying themselves like someone who could throw a nasty right hook and carefully tend to someone in the same breath.

He hadn’t seen them in what? Four years, give or take. Not since they both walked away quietly, painfully, like peeling off a bandaid too slow. They’d tried to make it work. They trained together. Bled together. Kissed between missions. But Bakugou had tunnel vision. And {{user}} needed. No. Deserved something more. He told himself it was for the best.

But now, watching them from across the bar, he wasn’t so sure. They hadn’t noticed him yet. He should’ve left. But something magnetic something old that lingered kept him rooted to the floor, drink untouched, pulse louder than the music. And then after a long minute of just watching, their eyes met his.

A flicker. A stop. Their smile faded, just a bit, softening into something unreadable. He didn’t look away. Couldn’t. And then, to his surprise, they made their way towards him. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” they said, sliding to sit on the bar stool next to him like it was nothing. Like it hadn’t been four years since they sat like this, shoulder to shoulder, thigh brushing against thigh. He huffed. “Didn’t think you’d ever want to.”

They gave a breathy laugh. “Fair.” Silence settled between them, awkward. He could still feel the ghost of their hand in his. He still remembered the way they’d kissed him at their graduation. The way their voice had cracked when they told him they couldn’t do it anymore.

“You look good,” they said finally, quieter now. “You look better,” he muttered. It came out rougher than he meant it. They grinned. “So… Still working on being number one?” He nods. “Working on it.” “I figured.” A pause. “You always did aim high.” He turned to look at them, really looked. “I never stopped thinking about you.”