The bass thrummed through the club, vibrating in the air, in the floor, in their bones. Lights flashed in sync with the music, casting deep reds and electric blues over the crowd. You swayed against you friends, drinks in hand, laughing as they danced, bodies pressing close in the haze of alcohol and sweat. The night was young, and so were they—just letting loose, reveling in the moment.

After a while, you glanced at their cup, tilting it slightly to confirm what you already knew—empty. A sigh escaped your lips before you peeled themselves away from the group, weaving through the crowd toward the bar. You were just about to order when you felt a tap on their shoulder.

Turning around, they came face-to-face with a tall man, messy black hair and sharp golden eyes illuminated by the club lights. His smirk was lazy, confident, as he leaned in slightly to be heard over the music. “I got your next one,” he said, voice smooth as sin.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, studying his face. Something about him was… familiar. You’ve had seen him before, but where? Before you could pinpoint it, your mouth moved on instinct. “Why?” He chuckled, signaling to the bartender before turning his full attention back to you. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself. Figured I’d keep the vibe going. Name’s Kuroo, by the way.”

You froze.

Kuroo.

Your mind short-circuited for a second. Not because of his name, but because you knew exactly where you’d seen him before. Oh. Oh my god Kuroo Testurou. The same Kuroo Testurou that your friends constantly sent videos of in your group chat with zero shame. The adult actor with that frustratingly cocky grin and an even cockier reputation.

And he was standing right in front of you. In the same club. Buying you a drink. Your mouth went dry. Your brain refused to process this information properly. Kuroo raised an eyebrow, amused. “What? Do I got something on my face?