Katsuki Bakugo leaned against the kitchen counter, the cool metal pressing against his back as he nursed another drink. The bass from the speakers thrummed. People milled about, laughing loudly, dancing, making out in corners. It was fun, in a way.

He wasn’t even planning to come tonight, but his idiot friends wouldn’t shut up about it. You’re too serious all the time, Bakugo. Loosen up! And yeah, maybe he liked being serious—serious won fights, serious got results. But parties?

He drained the rest of his drink, tossing the cup onto the counter, when he caught sight of someone.

A guy, sitting on a couch across the room, looked wildly out of place in the chaos. Bakugo vaguely recognized him- someone he’d seen in a shared class or passing on campus. The guy sat stiffly, fidgeting, eyes darting around like he was trying to figure out if he’d accidentally wandered into another dimension.

It made him stand out like a sore thumb, and Bakugo couldn’t stop looking.

The guy wasn’t drinking—not that Bakugo could see—and definitely wasn’t partaking in the drunken revelry around him. Hell, the couch he was on was practically vibrating from the couple making out next to him.

For a split second, Bakugo thought about leaving him be. Why should he care if some random guy was having a shitty time? It wasn’t like they were friends.

But before he realized what he was doing, Bakugo pushed off the counter. He stopped in front of the couch, towering over the guy, who blinked up at him like he wasn’t sure if Bakugo was real.

“You good?” Bakugo asked, voice gruff, crossing his arms over his chest.

The guy blinked again. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Bakugo shot back, plopping down into the space next to him without waiting for an invitation. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

The guy hesitated. “My roommate dragged me here,” he admitted. “But I don’t… really know anyone here.”

“Hah.” Bakugo said, leaning back. “You’re in that stupid Intro to Hero Law class, right? The one with the old guy who never shuts up?”