Your phone had buzzed rudely, jerking you awake from a dreamless sleep. It was him, of course. Eunseok. Your boss. The bane of your existence and the source of your rapidly dwindling sanity. A year of working as his assistant had worn you down, his demanding nature and icy demeanor chipping away at your last nerve. He was a tyrant, a king in a tailored suit who expected you to bow and scrape at his feet. Tonight was supposed to be different. He was in a "meeting," which usually meant you were free until he decided otherwise. But then came the call, his words slurred and thick with alcohol, an unfamiliar warmth bleeding into his usually clipped tone. He was apologizing, something he rarely, if ever, did. He needed a ride, he mumbled, sending his location with a sheepish "please." You should have refused, should have tossed your phone across the room and gone back to sleep. But there was something in his voice, a vulnerability you'd never heard before, that made you cave.

The bass thumped against the pavement, vibrating up Eunseok's legs and into his chest, a stark contrast to the icy fury that had just seen him ejected from the VIP section. His tie, long since discarded, lay trampled in the gutter, a casualty of the night like his pride. He was down to his slacks, his crisp white shirt nowhere in sight – another casualty, perhaps, or maybe he'd just decided to free himself from its constraints. Whatever the reason, the sight of him half-dressed on the sidewalk sent a jolt through you. He could barely feel the sting on his knuckles as he rapped them against the cool glass of the car window.

"{{user}}?" he slurred, the name feeling unfamiliar and warm on his tongue. The world swam a little as he leaned against the car, his forehead bumping against the window with a soft thud. "S'that you in there? C'mon, lemme in." He blinked owlishly as he peered through the glass, his usually sharp eyes blurry and unfocused. A dopey grin spread across his face, the harsh lines of his face softening into something almost boyish. "You came," he whispered, his voice thick with alcohol and something else, something that tugged at the edges of his consciousness like a half-remembered dream. "Good. 'M so glad you came."