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Force of Habit

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"Juuuumiiiiin~"

"Excuse me?"

"Juuuumiiiin! It's meeee!"

"I'm aware of who it is. Why are you calling at this time of night?"

There was a pause. He heard you hiccup.

"...What're...what's...what'cha doin'?"

"Paperwork."

Jumin held the phone away from his ear as you let out a noise that was someone between a groan and a whistle. Even he didn't know exactly how you'd pulled that off, but he could tell you weren't exactly in the right state of mind right now. Honestly, he didn’t know why he’d been expecting something different, answering a call from you at this time of night on a Saturday.

"Can it wait?" you asked, and now you weren't yelling down the line, Jumin could vaguely detect some music playing in the background, the kind of thumping beat you'd associate with a club. Not that Jumin frequented nightclubs (far too common for Trust Fund Kid), but he watched TV sometimes. As much as Zen and Luciel liked to tease him, he wasn’t totally oblivious about what people did for fun.

"Why?"

"You gotta...I need you to come'n get me."

"What? Aren't you goi-"

"Pleaaaase, Jumin? You don'...you don' haveta come yourself if you don't wanna...just-"

"All right, fine. Tell me where you are and my driver will be there in a few minutes."

You reeled off the name of the club, voice sounding far more upbeat than before, before adding,

"Thanks, Jumin...you're the boss."

Even Jumin couldn't help but smirk at that one as you bid him goodbye and clumsily hung up the phone (he could hear you scrabbling around for the correct button for about thirty seconds before finally ending the call, swearing softly). Perhaps he'd go and pick you up himself...the work would still be there in the morning, tedious as usual, and even though it was likely you'd fall asleep halfway home, seeing you was a far more appealing option.

Yes, he'd go see you himself. Though he wouldn't be driving, of course.

~

You were waiting outside the club when the fancy-looking black car rolled up in the street. People snapped their heads around to stare at Jumin stepped out of the car, obviously wondering if someone mildly famous had decided to patronise the place, given how obviously expensive it was. Though Jumin wasn't exactly a celebrity, you still heard people audibly gasp as he approached the club, the lights displaying the handsomeness of Jumin Han very nicely. He paid no attention to the drunkards gawking at him and made a beeline right for you.

"Come on," he said, stretching out a hand to you, looking incredibly cool and polished compared to everyone around him, "Let's get you home."

"No, I wanna go back to your place," you slurred, as Jumin pulled you to your feet.

"Why?" he asked.

You snorted.

"Um, 'cause you basically live in a goddamn palace an' I want nice, clean sheets and quiet when I wake up tomorrow? I don't wanna go back to my shitty apartment, Jumin, don't enf-infl-put that on me!"

Jumin sighed, but he didn't say no as he lead you to the car and opened the door for you, and you hastily clambered inside, hugging your clutch tightly to your body. Thankfully you'd sobered up a bit since you called him, so as long as his driver decided not to take a road with a lot of bends and turns, you wouldn't end up feeling queasy. Jumin slid in after you, closing the door and immediately, you were engulfed in silence as the car slid away from the club and its pulsing music.

You sighed and sank back against the smooth, cool leather of the car. Now that you were with Jumin, you could relax and let down your guard. Since your "friends" had left you, you'd had to avoid being in one place in the club too long, lest somebody notice the lone drunk girl and decide to start anything.

"Allow me to ask you something," Jumin said, fiddling with the cufflinks on his jacket.

"Mm?" you opened your eyes and flicked your gaze towards him.

"Why did you call me?" Jumin asked you, as you ran your fingers distractedly through your hair.

You rolled your eyes.

"Fuckin'...because Jaehee was workin’ late as usual, Zen would nag at me, which is stupid cuz Zen drinks all the damn time, Yoosung can't even drive and Seven would've filmed me and made me a goddamn internet meme."

Jumin couldn't argue with that - actually, he was pretty impressed you knew everyone's reactions so well despite only knowing the RFA for a short period of time, and while you were drunk off your ass as well. You were slumping against the window, watching the streetlights sparkle on the raindrops outside, tracing meaningless patterns in the condensation. Jumin eyed you thoughtfully, wondering how you managed to look so...alluring, even with smudged eyeshadow, the strap on your dress slinking down your arm and your hair falling out of whatever style you'd had it when you first stepped into the club. He didn't know how, but you always made everything look so...easy. It was like you weren't even trying, totally unaware of your own appeal.

"Plus...I haven't seen you in sho…so long. Y’know? You've been real busy with work and...I hoped you'd come'n get me."

Jumin blinked. Such an honest answer, it took him a little by surprise. You were like that, though, you said what you were thinking and didn't really worry too much about keeping your emotions in check or what would be the most practical. In the stifling world that Jumin frequently inhabited, it was...refreshing.

Neither of you said anything more as the car pulled up outside Jumin's. You didn't wait for him to get out and open the door, just surged out of the car and staggered up to the porch, slumping against the door and taking in a deep breath of crisp night air. Jumin thanked his driver and withdrew keys from his pocket.

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain why you were alone when I came to get you," Jumin remarked in an even tone of voice, as if remarking on the weather. Honestly he was expecting more of a scene when he'd first seen your name flash up on the screen, but you had a way of surprising him.

"...There was this fight between two girls in the group I was with, and it all got into this stupid thing and I just told everyone they were being idiots. So one stormed off one way, one stormed off another and I was left by myself. Apparently I was a 'bad friend' 'cause I didn't want to take sides."

A frown crossed Jumin's face, but he didn't let you see it as you entered his house, your feet sinking into the plush carpets and you removed your shoes with a sigh of relief. He watched you, trying to gauge how upset you were about it, but you seemed more concerned with undoing the fiddly buckles than anything else. Perhaps you'd be more upset when you thought it over in the morning, or just brush it off as having too much to drink. It struck Jumin as ironic that you worried so much about the wellbeing of everyone else in the RFA, but when it came to your own struggles, often you had a habit of letting them fester somewhere deep inside. He could understand what that was like.

"And they dare call themselves your friends?" he asked, in a slightly lower voice than usual.

"Yeah, well. Won't be going dancing with them anymore," you mumbled, then almost fell as your balance as thrown off without the shoes. "Agh!"

Jumin darted forward and caught your elbow before you could accidentally slam into a wall. Really, you were such a hazard. He decided to save questioning you further on what had happened until you were a little less…distracted.

"Come on," he said, and you didn't argue as he led you down the hall into one of the guest bedrooms.

You let out a sigh as you sat down on the bed, which of course had the finest cotton sheets and was honestly a little bit like sitting on a cartoon cloud. He probably never even used this room himself. You looked up to Jumin, who was looking down at you with an odd expression. Rueful, almost.

"S’wrong?"

"It's nothing. I should do a little more work before I go to sleep, myself," he said, shutting his eyes for a moment. "There's a bathroom through that door to your right, and of course there should be some clothing you can wear to sleep in as well. I'll let you get changed."

You nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over you, your eyelids flickering with the effort of keeping them open. Jumin had a very soothing voice, you couldn’t help but notice. It was making you far too relaxed to hold much of a conversation.

"Thanks, Jumin. Really."

He nodded and quietly shut the door. As he heard you get up and start unzipping your dress, he turned and briskly walked away, trying to ignore the warm feeling blooming in his chest. As if summoned by his need for a distraction, Elizabeth the 3rd appeared from around a door, chirping happily when she saw her doting owner. He smiled at the sight of her.

"Elizabeth the 3rd," Jumin said, bending and scooping up the cat, who nuzzled against him, purring hard. "How welcome the sight of your beautiful face is. Were you concerned when you realised I had left?"

He carried the Persian into his office and sat her on his lap, where she curled up happily (Jumin, of course, paid no mind to the fact she was getting hair all over his Armani suit), yet he found he didn't get very much work done. Normally he was good at putting distractions aside to focus on his current task, but this…this was different. He was incredibly aware of your presence in the house, even though you were probably sleeping, he felt as if something in him was pulling his focus towards you, magnetically compelling him to look up and glance at your door every fifteen minutes or so. Should he have made you drink something first? Insisted on driving you home? He didn't know. He did what you asked because he assumed you knew what you needed, which was to sleep, and you trusted him more than you did anybody else, knowing that he’d answer even at this time of night. He had to admit that he was flattered - being reliable was important.

Still, you were so quiet in there that it was a little unnerving. Gently removing Elizabeth the 3rd and setting her down in his chair, Jumin got up and walked to your room, his heart thumping unexpectedly hard. He tentatively knocked, but received no answer. After a moment's hesitation, he pushed open the door.

A beam of light fell on your face and you frowned slightly, but didn't wake. Jumin relaxed- you were just sleeping, on your side, quiet snores rumbling from your chest. He was amused to see that you'd done a half-assed job of removing your make-up, and he could tell there would be mascara all over that pillowcase come the morning. Your clothes lay like fallen leaves about the room and he could see you'd tossed your purse down by the chair next to the bed, still zipped up - no doubt there would be a few texts and missed calls on there later. Still, you were here, safe and in his care. Jumin smiled, a soft, sweet smile that no doubt would have had women up and down the country screaming in delight if anybody had actually witnessed it.

"Sweet dreams," Jumin murmured, and shut the door again.

As he made his way back to the office, he made a mental note to make sure you had some painkillers on the bedside table in the morning. He was thoughtful that way.