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THE call comes through at 2 : 13 am , randy's ringtone echoing through the otherwise silence of his room . it rips him out of his dreams in an instant, lids barely cracked open when he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand . squints, lashes squeezed together and wet with the tears of exhaustion clinging to them .

he can hardly believe it when he sees it — the screen lit up with the fat letters od Benson's name sprawled over them . for just a second, he debates on simply hanging up . figures it is some sort of booty call, a mistake . he worries , though .

that benson needs help, that he might need a ride or some help with his truck, that he's got himself in trouble in some way, anything .

the moment his thumb has swiped across his screen and the call has collected , benson's voice comes out in the deepest, raunchiest growl he's ever heard . it's thick with his accent and even heavier with the obvious weight of alcohol in it , and even hearing benson only say 'Bradley?' is enough to send shivers down his spine .

Randy asks him if he's alright, where he is , why he's calling at a time like this , but Benson merely laughs . it sounds like a bark through the speakers, all gravel from the amount of cigarettes he's probably been chain smoking . he swears he can hear an amused hum coming from the other end of the line before he speaks up again .

' you know what i've been thinkin' of , bradley ...'

he murmurs, and randy isn't sure if it's the breeze slipping in through his curtains or the sceatch in that voice that makes the hair on his arms stand straight up .

'every time i see you waddle back to your meemaw's ugly little car, that shit thing you cruise around in ... i wonder if she could stick her nose in and smell what her baby's been up to after i've had you folded up in there . like a fuckin'... cumhound or some shit . '

randy thinks he is dreaming — surely, he has to be — because there is no way his coworker is slurring these things into the speaker of his phone , grunting between sentences like he's aching for it . he stays silent, open mouthed until the back of his throat starts to feel like a sahara .

' you ever been fucked in a car? no,no, probably haven't ... you're worse than virgin goddamn mary, huh .. '

more of that rough laughter , shaking through his bones, pulsing through his belly until he can feel it stir south .

' little ass car .. i'd have to put your ears to your knees, bend and fuckinnng break you for a piece of that . shit , man . '

the sound of someone calling benson's name , asking him what the hell he is doing , cussing at him for grunting up into his phone like a randy dog . the call disconnects soon after with nothing but the signs of a tussle and an aggressive 'hey' from his older coworker .