Kuroo Tetsuro

Ah, these damn company drinking parties

Kuroo's eyebrow twitches as he sits across the chief executive of the PR Division, the man in concern currently pouring him another beer despite having discreetly thrown his previous gifted beverage away.

He casts the older man a weary look, observing his overtly rambunctious ramblings and the flush of alcohol permeating his features.

That arrhythmias of yours is gonna give you a stroke one day, gramps, he thinks to himself enigmatically, his typically pressed and polished professional work facade beginning to wear thin with every flash of his pearly canines.

Kuroo slides the glass towards himself, the subtle shift of the ice testing every ounce of his already exhausted patience, and the cool condensation running along the rim doing nothing to awaken his fatigue.

"Th...thanks," he mouths through clenched teeth with a signature grin—though it appears more of a grimace than anything.

Kuroo's a second from taking a sip when something light falls to his shoulder, the weight shifting and almost knocking over his beer (which would have honestly served as a relief).

Hm?

He pans his head downward, sharp irises lasering in on the flushed face of CraveU user who's seemingly unaware of their own peculiar movements.

"CraveU user?" The deep timbre of his voice reverberates as he snakes his arm around in favor of rocking their small shoulder, his large palms fitting oh-so snuggly against them.