#11 Things you said when you were drunk…
Taehyung looked around the messy dorm and sighed. Their first win was definitely something to celebrate, but it’s possible they had gone a little overboard. Seokjin and Namjoon were passed out on the couch. They had literally drunk Hoseok under the table, where he’d made a small nest of the tablecloth and his jacket. Taehyung could hear him humming softly to himself
under there, punctuated by the occasional giggle, and knew it wouldn’t be long before he drifted off, too.
Taehyung had stopped after his first beer. He’d never really liked the feeling of being out of control and cheap beer wasn’t his drink of choice. So he sat off to the side, watching Yoongi and Jimin become increasingly impaired and marveling at how much alcohol they’d managed to get into the dorm without their manager noticing. Jungkook had gone to bed hours ago, exhausted from alternating between pouting at not being allowed to drink and being sanctimonious about how sober he was in the face of his ridiculous hyungs.
Jimin stood abruptly with a groan and had to grab the table to keep himself upright. “I’m out,” he said. He stumbled away without another word and Taehyung heard a small crash somewhere in the direction of their bedroom. He sighed and hoped it wasn’t anything of his.
“But I’m not donnnneeee,” Yoongi whined. He riffled through the bottles on the table looking for a full one, scattering a few empties that went rolling away.
“I think you are, hyung,” Taehyung said gently. He stood and tugged Yoongi to his feet. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“But I want…” But whatever he wanted was forgotten as he stared up into Taehyung’s face. Tae couldn’t make out his expression for a long moment, until Yoongi scowled. “Sometimes I hate you.” His tone stopped Taehyung in his tracks.
“Fine, stay here if you want,” Taehyung retorted, letting go of his arm and taking a step away. Yoongi swayed and latched back onto him.
“No, I mean, sometimes I hate your face,” Yoongi said. He shook his head in confusion. “No. The stupid way you talk.” Taehyung didn’t know what to do with this version of Yoongi. On the rare occasions they imbibed, Yoongi was hyper and full of stupid ideas, not angry and surly. Yoongi reached up and stroked Taahyung’s face roughly. “You make me homesick for Daegu.”
“Oh,” Taehyung replied. He vividly remembered their trainee days when he himself would alternate between avoiding Yoongi and seeking him out just to hear the familiar dialect. But he still didn’t really know what to say.
“God, I’m sorry, that was mean,” Yoongi said, frowning thoughtfully. He pulled at his lips with his fingers, distorting his face in a way that might normally have made Tae laugh. “That’s not. I didn’t mean– Ugh, it’s just. You get me better than the others. Sometimes I don’t like that.”
“I do?” Taehyung asked. This was news to him.
“Your song was so good,” Yoongi slurred, stumbling backwards and pulling them unceremoniously back into their chairs. Tae felt a warmth spread through his chest at the older boy’s words. “It reminded me of me. I think. Now I don’t remember.” Yoongi scrunched his nose and pouted with frustration. Then he waved his hand idly as if none of it mattered.
“Thanks, hyung,” Taehyung said. “I didn’t think you were all that impressed.”
“You maknaes,” Yoongi muttered, rolling his eyes. “You always think we don’t see your talent. I let it be on the album, didn’t I? I fucking killed myself for that album. You think I’d put a shitty song on there? I don’t care if goddamned G Dragon himself wrote it, if it sucked, there’s no way.”
Taehyung was silent for a long moment. Yoongi blinked and looked away as if he hadn’t said anything at all. He unearthed a not-that-empty bottle triumphantly. He took a swig and his eyes brightened, the sullenness of a moment ago wiped away but his grin.
“Tae, I have the BEST idea,” he said, suddenly glowing with mischief. “Let’s go up to the roof!” Yoongi bounced in his chair a little and took another drink. “Seriously, why aren’t we on the roof right now?”
Taehyung sighed but smiled. This was more like it. “Hyung, it’s after three in the morning. We don’t need to go on the roof. We need to go to bed.”
“But Tae,” he whined, drawing out the vowel of his name. He stood up and tugged at Taehyung’s arm. “It’s gonna be fun! Let’s wake up Namjoonie. He’ll come with us.
But shhhhhh….” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell Jin-hyung. He’ll just tell us no.”
Taehyung chuckled. He wasn’t a stranger to the stupid sober idea, so it amused him to no end to be the voice of reason this night. “Okay, I have a better plan,” he whispered back. Yoongi leaned in close with an anticipatory giggle. Tae infused his voice with all the excitement he could muster. “Let’s lay down for…ten minutes…and then we’ll go up to the roof. It’s good, right?”
Yoongi nodded solemnly, his wide, unfocused eyes more gullible than usual. Taehyung stood and helped him toward his bedroom. Yoongi giggled quietly the whole way there as if they were pulling off the prank of the century. Taehyung lowered him onto the mattress and gently tugged the nearly empty bottle out of his clutches. Yoongi whimpered a little and reached for it, but Tae just set it aside and cuddled in next to him.
“Okay, but only for ten minutes,” Yoongi murmured. Taehyung smiled, watching his eyes stay closed longer with each blink. “Sorry I said I hate you. I’m really glad you’re my dongsaeng.”
“Me, too, hyung,” Tae said softly, patting Yoongi’s back. “Me, too.”