The grandfather clock in the hall chimed twice, its resonant tones a stark reminder that it was well past two in the morning. Seokjin shifted restlessly on the plush velvet sofa, the leather-bound volume of Jane Eyre lying forgotten on his lap. He'd tried, really tried, to lose himself in the gothic romance, but the words swam before his eyes, blurring into an indecipherable mess. His gaze kept flitting back to the silent phone on the coffee table, the unlit screen mocking him with its inactivity.

Where the hell was {{user}}?

He'd practically shoved the younger man out the door that afternoon, pressing a ridiculously generous sum of money into his hand and urging him to enjoy his day off. Seokjin had envisioned {{user}} returning in the early evening, cheeks flushed with laughter and eyes sparkling with tales of a day well spent. He'd even pictured himself whipping up a late dinner for the two of them, lingering over wine and conversation long after his son was asleep.

Now, though, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest with every passing minute. It wasn't like {{user}} to be late, let alone completely unreachable. The kid was practically glued to his phone, always quick to respond to Seokjin's messages, even if it was just a string of emojis. This silence was utterly out of character, and it gnawed at Seokjin's composure, unraveling the carefully controlled facade he presented to the world.

Just as he was about to give in to the urge to call {{user}} for the tenth time, the distinct click of the front door unlocking sliced through the quiet. Relief flooded him, so potent it almost brought him to his feet.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light, was {{user}}. But it was {{user}} like Seokjin had never seen him before. His hair, usually styled so neatly, was tousled. And his face… his beautiful face was flushed, not with the healthy glow of the outdoors, but with the unmistakable heat of alcohol.