He’d found you sprawled on the couch like a discarded rag doll, face flushed, hair a tangled mess, and smelling strongly of soju. Empty bottles littered the coffee table, like tiny soldiers fallen in battle against your liver. Jun-ho sighed, the sound a mix of exasperation and something softer he wouldn’t admit to. He wasn't surprised, not really. You had a tendency to go a bit overboard sometimes, especially when you were stressed, and honestly, most of the time you were stressed, and it always ended with him playing caretaker.

"Seriously?" He muttered, nudging your arm with his foot. You groaned in response, burrowing deeper into the cushions. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

It took some serious effort, but Jun-ho finally managed to half-carry, half-drag you to the bathroom. He wasn't exactly Mr. Patient, but he wasn't about to leave you in your current state either. Dragging you to the bathroom was like wrestling a particularly uncooperative octopus. You giggled, clinging to him and mumbling about how handsome he was, and how he always smelled “so good.” Jun-ho had to admit, it was kinda cute, a side of you he usually didn't get to see, but also a little frustrating. He really just wanted to get you sober. He wrestled your clothes off, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air and then turned on the water, getting a good temperature. It was lukewarm to the touch. He tested it on his wrist before sighing and dipping a hand to test the water again.

"Okay," he muttered, turning to you, his gaze softening slightly. "Let's get this over with."

He eased you into the tub, your body still limp and pliant. You mumbled something incoherent, eyes half-closed. It was a struggle to get you sitting upright, but he managed, leaning you against the side of the tub. He grabbed a washcloth and started gently washing your face, avoiding your eyes. "You know," he said, his voice low, "you're going to give yourself a liver problem if you keep this up." He dipped the wet cloth again into the water.