"Mother, just . . . Stop, please."

Hakyeon was tired from the long day of trailing his father around inside of the ridiculously large conglomerate headquarters where said father practically ran Korea's economy. Yes, he understood that his parents were just trying to secure his future, but he was mature now and them stringing the leash around his neck and yanking him from here to there for this and that was so . . . exhausting, stressful, smothering, and annoying.

"I don't like your tone of voice, Hakyeon!" came his mother's shrill reply, and it took all of his self-control to not roll his eyes. He wished she wouldn't do this when they were in the presence of their employees—namely, in their car, with their driver. That poor kid looked like he was terrified of Hakyeon's overbearing, haughty parents, and he guessed he couldn't blame them.

"If I tell you I'm going to meet Seohyun tomorrow, will you leave me alone about it?" he solicited, trying to be patient and not sound tired as hell.

"I hate it when you do this, Hakyeon." she huffed, her voice effectively (systematically, strategically, as if he was some sort of trouble child) cracking with emotion. "Can't you see that I only want you to find someone nice to settle down with? You're my eldest son, you'll need a life partner with you when you take over your father's business—"

Try as he might, Hakyeon couldn't control the annoyed snort-sigh escaping from him and his mother's eyes turned murderous.

"Forget it!" she screeched. "You won't see Seohyun this weekend, and you also won't be attending those wretched dance classes you seem to treasure so much!"

Uncomfortable warmth and sudden anger flooded under his skin as his mother forcefully deprived him of the one thing he looked forward to through the week of tutoring, business schedules, accounting sessions, meeting his father's clients, socializing with his mother's friends, and his parents' friend's daughters.

He ached to wipe the annoying triumphant look off her face when he couldn't reply and tried to breathe calmly through his nose.

The driver (Wonshik was his name, Hakyeon tried to remember) glanced at him sympathetically as he got out of the car. He trailed with heavy steps and an even heavier heart towards his large house after his strutting mother.

He flopped onto the king-sized bed, laying lifeless, and stared craters into the ceiling as he heard his mother's voice from down the hall. She shrieked whiny complaints to his father about her "worries" for his future. He clicked his tongue.

For the next hour, he was a ragdoll.

An atmosphere of mope and pity saturated his room until a soft knock on the door stunned him awake. He didn't move, but it opened anyway and he pretended to sleep. His body buzzed with the nearing presence and he kept the steady rise and fall of his chest. A smaller hand swept aside his bangs and patted his forehead.

Adoration swelled throughout his body for his little sister. The light flicked off with the door clicking closed.

With renewed spirits, Hakyeon sat up. He rushed to his closet, starting to make himself look less I'm the son of a businessman with a stick up my and more I'm the son of a businessman and honestly I'm sick of it. He ruffled his hair to be stylishly unstyled and then wrapped a loose scarf around his neck.

He headed to his window and creaked it open. When he was stepped out onto to the roof, he pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. His thumb tapped on Kim Wonshik to send a text message telling him to pull up outside the gate. The chauffeur would probably think he was weird, but whatever.

Just a few minutes later, a car revved to life on the other side of the property and he squirreled his way down to ground level. Dim lights closed in on the gates and he began flitting through the groomed lawn, easily avoiding the lights scattered around. Before he knew it, he was jumping down from the outer brick fence and climbing into the backseat of the sleek black car.

"You know you're going to get in trouble with Madam Cha for this."

"Excuse me?" he snapped, "Last time I checked, your job wasn't to question what happens between me and my parents. Your job is to shut up and drive."

Wonshik's shoulders tensed in the front seat and he huffed, triumphant.

"I wasn't trying to patronize you . . ." he heard the driver murmur, almost sounding miffed as his leather-gloved hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Take me downtown." Hakyeon commanded, settling in and ignoring what Wonshik said. "You're going to be my tonight, so no funny business."

Pumping music and smooth driving fueled Hakyeon's thoughts of what he wanted to do once they got to the nightlight district. He wanted to go to a club, definitely—he was dying to dance, and he didn't give a about what his mother telling him what he could and couldn't do.

It's not my fault I don't like that girl. She's nice, sure. Not my type. Her shoulders aren't broad enough and, oh. Right. She doesn't have a .

He sighed.

Surprised, he stared up when Wonshik opened his door. He stepped out and reveled in the freshness of a bustling crowd, laughter, and drunken stumbling. No one was trapped. They were all doing what they wanted.

Charged, Hakyeon grabbed Wonshik's forearm and dragged him along until they ended up right at the front of the line to his favorite club, Starlight.

"A—Are you sure we're allowed—"

"Shut up." Hakyeon huffed, showing his ID to the bouncer. They were let right in.

Cigarettes, fruity drinks, musky hormones, pounding music, and flashing lights invigorated his senses while he dragged Wonshik along. He swept by the club lockbox room and checked in a few of his things for safe keeping, forcing off Wonshik's black suit jacket to check in too. He popped open the first few buttons on his white dress shirt and rolled up his sleeves before standing back to admire his work.

Wonshik shifted nervously. "I'm not supposed to be—"

"Oh my god, loosen up already!" Hakyeon barked. "Tonight, you're my , my date. My whatever the hell I want you to be. So c'mon Shikkie, dance with me."

Hand wrapped around Wonshik's wrist, Hakyeon hauled him near the center of the dance floor where the concentration of energy and pheromones was highest. Shamelessly, Hakyeon pressed his body against Wonshik's and let his senses be overtaken by music and the power of the clubbers around him.

Suspiciously compliant, Wonshik's hands were on his waist. He was looser than Hakyeon could have asked for and they began to move as one to the pounding, exhilarating music. It was just what he needed after the hell-bound day with his parents.

He wrapped his arms around Wonshik's neck and leaned in. His mouth pressed against Wonshik's ear. "I think we'll do this more often, Shikkie."

Wonshik involuntarily shivered and swallowed thickly. What the hell had his employer's (fluid, slender, extremely attractive now that he thought about it) son dragged him into?

. . . This was going to be a long night.

This was actually written weeks ago as a request for Tumblr user wonbeanii (gosh, what a cutie she is, I love her to bits.) I'm not really an avid shipper of navi at all, but I actually enjoyed writing this. Knowing me, this would actually have turned out into a full-blown story, but I had to keep it short. I may or may not write more to this, but I thought that I wanted to post it on AFF for more to read, so thanks for reading!