Work Text:
10:30 PM
There are two things that Yoongi just knows will cross his mind tomorrow morning as he stares at the six-pack of beer he’d purchased for himself. The first being that his head will ache like hell when he finally wills himself to open his eyes; the second being something bitter about Kim Taehyung and his perfect face and personality and– Yoongi shakes his head, he has to stop these thoughts from continuing to cross his mind, and so, he continues on this personal vendetta against his liver and lifts the can of alcohol to his lips.
The liquid has a strong, pungent scent, but by this point in time, Yoongi has decidedly tossed away this fact as he swallows the drink in desperate gulps. With desolation in his gaze, Min Yoongi finishes his first can of beer and deems it appropriate to quickly grab himself another one.
(and another)
11:13 PM
Taehyung is in the process of pulling a large shirt on when his phone rings, the sprightly ringtone making him jump and snag the fabric, tangling it on his long arms. A groan falls from his lips as he struggles with tugging the shirt properly over his head, finally managing as his ringtone reaches a tuneful crescendo. Scrambling for the mobile, Taehyung accepts the call and presses the device to his ear after reading Min Yoongi on the screen.
“Hyung?”
“You know I really hate you, Kim Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice comes out in a slur, a clear roughness in the older boy’s tone that makes Taehyung shiver.
“What–” There’s a hurt lilt to his voice. What could he have possibly done to evoke such a harsh bout of words? A sigh
“You heard me.” And there’s a decisive tone to Yoongi’s voice; a sharp edge filled with frustration and pent up anger.
“I’m coming over.” Taehyung murmurs quietly, frowning—what could possibly be wrong with Yoongi? Soon enough, the younger boy has abandoned his bid for sleep in order to haphazardly tug on some jeans and the first coat he sees (it might have belonged to his roommate, Jimin, but Taehyung isn’t particularly bothered about that).
The winter air greets Taehyung with a bitter spike of ice, batting at his clothing in freezing tendrils of permafrost. Nonetheless, he braces himself against the cold and sets on his way – Yoongi’s apartment is only fifteen minutes away, I need to do do this , he thinks. There’s something wrong with him. He needs me. And, somehow, this motivation seems to allow Taehyung to ignore the frosty wind that nips at his nose, a spiteful caress along his cheekbone.
The trek from Taehyung’s home to Yoongi’s is surprisingly short – Oh , he thinks. I must have been walking a lot faster than I thought I was . With a frown, Taehyung steps into Yoongi’s apartment building and makes his way up the stairs.
11:36 PM
Yoongi does not answer the door immediately, and Taehyung can hear cacophonic sounds from the other side of the door – he grows increasingly impatient as time draws on, reaching out to prod at the doorbell once more.
Finally, finally, Min Yoongi answers the door.
“Oh.” The older boy says. “It’s you.” There’s a sharp edge to his voice, a resounding thud in his dulled tone that tells a bitter tale.
“You hate me?” Taehyung mumbles, staring at his friend with wide eyes. “Hyung?”
The haze of alcohol is clear in Yoongi’s gaze as it rakes of Taehyung’s face, drinking in the sharpness of his pleasant features. “I said hate? Oh, sorry – scratch that, I actually detest you.” And with that, Kim Taehyung’s face falls.
“Hyung—” A pause follows, the cogs turning in the younger boy’s head. He studies Yoongi, noting his slightly ragged breathing, the dilated pupils, the scent of alcohol hangs around him, rolling towards Taehyung in waves of sharp pungence. “Hyung,” he repeats. “You’re drunk, aren’t you? Why are you saying these things?” He prods on, stepping around Yoongi and pushing into the depth of the older boy’s apartment.
Making his way into the open-plan living room, Taehyung takes in his surroundings, noting the empty cans of beer that now lay neglected by the sofa. A sigh falls from his parted lips as worry swindles through his head, he utters Yoongi’s name with a soft cry of concern.
The older boy makes a measured decision to follow Taehyung, muttering curses under his breath. The silence is only disturbed by Yoongi’s frustrated murmuring. “You and your goddamn face, with your pretty goddamn eyes,” He does not stop there, no no; Min Yoongi keeps going. “And your pretty goddamn lips and—” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, convolution clouding his expression as he spins on his heel, staring at his friend and deeming it an appropriate time to cut him off.
“Excuse me?” He asks, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to want to register his question, waving him away with a shaky hand.
“Don’t interrupt your hyung, you little shit…” There’s a savagery to his tone, that’s quickly ruined by his following words. “And don’t get me started on that low, sexy voice of yours—”
“Hyung?”
“Didn’t I say not to interrupt me?”
Taehyung attempts to press on, sudden understanding lighting him up with the knowledge that the one and only Min Yoongi either has feelings for him, or is secretly an incredibly soft and complimentative person – perhaps he’s even both of those things. “But—”
“Kim Taehyung, I’m warning you—” He cuts himself off, eyes widening as the liquid courage wears off a tiny bit. Finally, he realises what he might have just done. “Kim… Taehyung…”
“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung stands stock still, raising an arm to reach for his friend. However, Yoongi simply steps away, pressing his fingers to the space between his eyes and pressing down until his vision warps.
“Fuck.” A prolonged pause, the regret dripping from Yoongi’s thoughts is thick as it hangs within the room. “I did not just confess to you…”
“I think you might have done, hyung.” Taehyung—quite unhelpfully—says. He continues after receiving a withering look from the older boy before he goes back to bowing his head in complete and utter embarrassment, having strangely sobered up the moment he’d realised the weight and meaning of his drunken words. “But that’s okay, right? Because the feelings are mutual.”
And there’s a moment of stark, crystalline silence. Yoongi raises his head, meeting Taehyung’s steady and oddly calm gaze with a misty, haphazard one of his own. Suddenly, overwhelming feeling floods Yoongi and he finds that tears are welling up in his eyes. “Oh my god,” He whispers, voice cracking.
“Wow, hyung, you must be an emotional drunk…” Taehyung comments dryly before making his way over to the older boy. Hesitantly, he raises an arm to rub the other’s back, soothing words falling from his lips and circling the dimly lit room. Surprisingly enough, Yoongi leans into Taehyung’s touch as the night curls around them. The darkness leaves them in peace, a comforting breeze ruffling their hair amongst the heightened emotions of the evening.
11:15 AM
Yoongi opens his eyes with a groan, the light from the window flooding his vision and making it difficult to peer around the room. Eventually, he comes to realise that he’d seemingly passed out on the living room couch, still in his clothes. Well there’s that, and the blatant fact that there’s someone pressed to his side, eyes wide open as they stare at eachother.
“Hyung—” But Yoongi is pulling away from the younger boy, eyes widening as heat rushes to his cheeks. Trying his best to ignore the stinging pain in his head, Yoongi pushes himself to his feet.
Desperately, Yoongi attempts to work out what could have possibly happened last night, thoughts clouded over by the intense allure of alcohol. Even despite the immeasurable ache hanging in his temples, Yoongi manages to speedily make his way into the kitchen and shakily get himself a glass of water. Taehyung follows like a lost puppy, worry and convolution simultaneously clouding his gaze. “Tae, I—”
“Don’t you remember? You confessed, hyung.” And immediate heat is rushing to Yoongi’s cheeks. In a final effort to save his dignity, he presses his hands to his face and attempts to turn away from the younger boy.
After a prolonged moment of silence, Yoongi slowly moves to stare at Taehyung. His gaze is just as unsteady as his voice. “What did you say... a-about that?”
“I said that the feelings are mutual.” Comes Taehyung’s immediate soft response. Stepping closer to the older boy, Taehyung allows a soft smile to tug at the corner of his lips. “ Because they are. ”
For once, this bitter beverage everyone's came to know as alcohol has had a positive outcome.