Work Text:
To be frank, minimalist was the last thing Seokjin expected Taehyung’s apartment to be like. Now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t even know what he was expecting.. maybe a bike hung up on the wall, a record player in the back and like, a handful of puppies living under the couch or something. Taehyung admitted to having a colourful tie collection earlier that night, so Seokjin is curious about that, but other than the very abstract painting in the hallway, nothing about this place really screams Taehyung.
“Are you having a moment?”
“What?” mumbles Seokjin, staring at the the rug underneath his feet (it’s beige, yet somehow brand-new looking.. he has so many questions). “No, no, I just.. I like this. Your place is really nice.”
Taehyung lets out a snort, then chuckles. “Not thanks to me. I’ll make sure to let Hoseok know how much you appreciate his catalogue picking skills, though.”
“Is Hoseok your roommate? The, uh.. kind-of-a-doctor?”
“Well, one of my roommates, but yeah, that’s him. He’s out visiting his sister in Manchester for the weekend, though, and my other roommate is out on a date with his girlfriend.”
Seokjin manages a pained expression, reaching out to place his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Speaking of dates, I.. I’m sorry about ours.”
“What’s there to be sorry about? I had a great time.”
“It was probably not what you expected, though. My friends have been trying to set me up for a long time.. blind dates, double dates, all that shit. It never works out. Don’t know if it’s me but.. well, it probably is me, who am I kidding,” he falters, heaving out a sigh through his nose.
Taehyung gestures for him to sit down, then walks over to turn on the electric fireplace. “If it never works out,” he begins as he heads back, “why do they keep pushing it?”
Seokjin shrugs. “They say I’m lonely.. still hung up on my ex.”
“Well, are you?”
He drops his gaze to the floor, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t know.”
“Fair enough,” says Taehyung, lifting himself up again and walking over to the shelf filled entirely with alcohol bottles. Seokjin considers himself to be in a pretty comfortable position, financially-wise, but some of those bottles look like he’d have to sell his TV and maybe one of his kidneys in order to afford them. Taehyung looks at him in amusement. “Might I interest you in some Smirnoff, or are you more of a Hennessy type of lad?”
“Is that question even necessary at this point?” He lets out a sigh. “Vodka, obviously. I wanna get fucked.. like, elbow-deep kind of fucked.”
Taehyung arches an eyebrow, lips curving into a smirk. “Should I be worried? Do you have alcoholic tendencies?”
“Yes, because I am actually a sixty-year-old alcoholic who used to be a stand up comedian and has five kids, but none of them ring up his phone anymore.. and his wife?” he asks, then takes a dramatic pause. “Works full-time at Waitrose.”
Taehyung seems to be at a loss of words. “That’s.. very specific.”
“I should write a book,” says Seokjin mindlessly, nodding at his own statement. “I spend so much time at work writing about.. celebrity side-boobs and cute name ideas for your houseplants that.. fuck.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I’m just so tired. In a couple of months I will be thirty years old, still living with my cousin and making quizzes that sound like.. what type of burrito would you be based on how you answer these next eight philosophical questions.”
“Oh my god, is that what people do online nowadays? I should get on the internet more often.”
“Get on the internet,” Seokjin snickers, laughing quietly under his breath. “You sound like an old man.”
“I will pretend I didn’t hear that and assume you were just trying out an unconventional way to call me wise.”
“Whatever. Skip the fancy glasses and gimme that bottle already.”