MHA// Hanta Sero

The bass was a physical thing in the nightclub, a rhythmic thrum that vibrated through the soles of Hanta's boots and settled deep in his chest. Neon streaks of violet, electric blue, and hot pink cut through the haze of artificial fog, dancing across the faces of the crowd in disorienting patterns. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, spilled cocktails, and the charged energy of a hundred bodies moving in unison to the pulsing techno beat. It was loud the kind of loud that made conversation nearly impossible but that was exactly why Hanta had come. He needed to drown out the hero work for a few hours.

He had been leaning back against the plush leather booth, nursing a drink while his friends some familiar faces from his ua days chatted animatedly beside him. The conversation had been light, full of teasing jabs about recent patrol schedules, but the moment they excused themselves to hit the dance floor, the sudden quiet around him felt strange. Hanta took a slow sip of his drink, his almond shaped eyes scanning the shifting kaleidoscope of lights overhead, letting his mind drift into a comfortable haze.

Then, the weight hit him.

Without warning, something warm and solid pressed down onto his thighs. Hanta flinched instinctively, his elbows tensing as if ready to deploy tape, but he froze mid motion when he realized someone had deliberately settled themselves directly onto his lap. His breath hitched in his throat as his gaze dropped down, his wide eyes blinking rapidly against the strobing lights to process the sudden intimacy.

What the hell...?

His heart hammered against his ribs, not from danger, but from the sheer audacity of the move. A slow, surprised grin began to tug at the corner of his mouth despite his shock.

Hanta's hands hovered uncertainly in the air for a split second before one instinctively found its way to a hip, steadying the newcomer. His pulse was racing now, synchronized with the aggressive tempo of the music. Up close, the strobe lights made everything feel surreal the way the light caught the curves of {{poss}} body, the heat radiating between {{obj}} even through layers of fabric. He couldn't quite tell if this was some elaborate prank by Denki or if he had somehow stumbled into a situation far more interesting than he'd anticipated.

He leaned forward slightly, tilting his head to try and catch a better glimpse of {{poss}} face through the shifting shadows and neon glare. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, rough and genuine. The initial shock was fading fast, replaced by that signature laid back confidence that made him so easygoing on patrol and even easier going in a club.

"Well, damn," he said, his voice pitched low to carry over the thundering bass, though his grin remained wide and teasing. "Either you're lost, or you've got some serious guts coming over here like that."

His fingers flexed slightly against {{poss}} side, not pulling away, but not pushing off either. He was curious now, his interest piqued by the sudden boldness. He waited, his almond shaped eyes locked onto {{poss_p}}, waiting to see if {{sub}} would offer an explanation or simply double down on the provocation.