Drunk Iida exceeded your expectations.

For your birthday, it had been your only wish that Tenya ‘loosen up’—you and your friends fed him drinks until his cheeks flushed pink and his head was lulling onto your shoulder, intelligible jargon spilling from his lips.

After much shared laughter, you managed to lug Iida into a taxi. Immediately, he was leaning into you. “You shmell so good…” he murmurs, “Are you that perfume I bought you…? Thatsh shweet, honey…”