Yoongi sat at the bar with a bottle of scotch within arm’s reach and a shot glass in front of him. He kept replaying the scene of kissing Jimin over and over in his mind, tormented by the moment. His mind focused on the taste of Jimin’s lips, the warmth of his skin, the sounds he made…

His fist slammed down on the bar’s countertop while he used the other hand to tug at his hair. It was torture experiencing that intimacy on repeat, especially when his gut was telling him it wasn’t even his moment to have. No moment he’d ever have with Jimin would be fully his. It would always be partially his and partially Jungkook’s.

To try and distract himself, he poured another shot even though he knew it wouldn’t work. He had made it halfway through the bottle in the hour that he’d been there and the bartender kept giving him looks as if he was afraid Yoongi would pass out any minute. The liquor didn’t burn anymore, it was like drinking water at this point in more ways than one. His head barely felt cloudy and he could no longer decipher the taste. There was no purpose to him being here and he knew that, but somehow drinking himself stupid felt better than sitting alone in his room and thinking about all the mistakes in his life. Being drunk was a defense mechanism for him.

“Sir, I think that’s enough for you tonight,” the bartender said carefully so as not to provoke Yoongi. He wore a concerned expression, his brows furrowed and his plump lips in an unsure line.

“Whatever,” Yoongi said with a casual wave of his hand as he poured another shot.

“Listen, you’re gonna do some serious damage to your liver, why don’t you just go home.” The man took the bottle from Yoongi and set it back under the countertop. Yoongi just shrugged and finished his shot.

“Why do you ing care so much?”

“Because I’d appreciate it if you didn’t vomit and/or die while I’m working because I have to clean it up.” The man’s tone was slightly annoyed now and Yoongi found it amusing.

“Don’t worry, princess, I can hold my liquor.”

“Can you hold your demons?” the other quipped back.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s obvious.” The man rolled his white sleeves up and leaned against the countertop, lowering his voice when he spoke again. “I’ve worked here for quite some time and there are three types of drinkers I’ve come across over the years. Those that drink for the first and last time, those that drink for fun, and those that drink to escape something,” he said, putting up a finger as he counted off each type. “Those that drink to escape sit here in the same spot for hours, knocking back drink after drink, shot after shot. Their eyes glaze over and in their drunken state, you can see the vulnerability in their gaze.” He never broke eye contact with Yoongi as he spoke and the blonde felt trapped to look at him until he finished his thought.

“You’re wrong, I drink to forget,” Yoongi replied.

“Forgetting can be thought about as escaping your own thoughts,” the other replied with a wink as he moved over to a woman he was taking a seat at the bar. Yoongi watched the man take her order with a flirty smile and noticed how he barely had to look at the bottle to figure out which one was which. He made her drink with a grace that came from experience. He had been doing this for a while.

Yoongi admired the way his black hair hung over the man’s eyes with a part down the center to expose more of his perfect skin. If he hadn’t been so enamored by Jimin, he would have considered trying to take this man home for a night of fun. As if he could tell what Yoongi was thinking, the man returned and said, “You can stop making googly eyes at me, I’m not interested.”

“I figured by the way you looked at her,” Yoongi nodded to the woman the man had just served at the other side of the bar.

“Oh no, I flirt with the women for tips. I’m into guys. Just not you.” Yoongi feigned a hurt expression.

“And why’s that?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re shorter than what I usually go for-”

“I’m not that short!”

“And I don’t particularly care for dating men with baggage such as yourself,” he continued, ignoring Yoongi’s comment. “I’ve been down that road thinking I could change him, but I learned the hard way that you can’t heal someone. Only they can do that for themselves and only if they want it. He didn’t.” His voice took on a bitter tone, and he shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought.

“Can I at least know your name?”

“Seokjin,” he replied as he reached under the counter and retrieved a glass. He filled it with water and set it in front of Yoongi. “Drink that or else you’ll get dehydrated.”

Yoongi nonchalantly reached for the glass, saying, “You know, for someone who isn’t interested, you seem to be very caring towards me.” He took a long drink from the glass, not realizing how thirsty he’d been until then. “What’s up with that?”

Seokjin stopped wiping the countertop down and leaned on it again. “You’re different than the others drink to escape.”

“How’s that?”

“You didn’t try to fight me when I took the bottle.”

“What’s the point?”

“Exactly.” Seokjin smiled as if he was a proud teacher smiling at his student for getting a question right. Yoongi became even more confused and the alcohol clouding his mind wasn’t helping.

“You know there’s no point in drinking until you go unconscious, but you still do it. Do you ever ask yourself why?”

“Cause it’s better than being alone with my thoughts,” Yoongi answered with a shrug as he mindlessly traced patterns along the glass.

“And that’s why you’re different, you’re self-aware.”

“That still doesn’t really explain why you’re being so considerate towards me.” Yoongi’s voice was rough as exhaustion suddenly set in and he looked up at Seokjin with droopy eyes. The other cocked his head to the side and looked carefully at Yoongi before saying, “I can’t explain it, but I get good vibes from you. You don’t seem as hopeless as the others and maybe all you need is some direction in your life.”

“You can say that again,” Yoongi scoffed. Another customer came in and Seokjin momentarily left to take his order. Once he made his drink, he returned to Yoongi, bringing a stool over and sitting in front of him.

“So,” he started, leaning forward on his elbows and placing his chin on his palms, “what are you trying to escape?”

“Why should I tell you?” Seokjin shrugged.

“Listening to people’s woes is kinda in my job description. Plus, I don’t have anything else better to do. After ten, traffic slows down in here. Not a lot of new people come in and the ones that are already here are either too drunk to ask for more drinks or too busy trying to flirt with the other patrons.” As if to prove his point, he nodded over towards the lady he had served moments ago who was now accompanied by a young man that screamed I’m hot and rich.

Yoongi sighed. “I guess the simple answer is I’m trying to escape myself.” He had sounded quieter than he meant to, but those words were something he never really intended to say out loud. Had he been sober, this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.

“Aren’t we all…” Seokjin murmured thoughtfully. “Anything in particular?”

“This guy I met.”

“Oh, a love story?”

“Depends on what you consider to be a love story. We just met maybe a week ago but I feel this pull to be closer to him. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just want to be near him all the time cause I guess he makes me feel like the Yoongi I want to be, not the Yoongi that I am and I haven’t met anyone who’s ever made me feel that way.”

“So what’s the catch?” Seokjin’s tone was gentle and if Yoongi had been paying attention, he would have mistaken it for pity.

“He’s in love with someone else.” Yoongi sipped more of his water for the sake of keeping his hands busy. All of a sudden he was feeling overwhelmed and his fingers began to twitch.

“Ah…and does it look like he’ll leave this someone else anytime soon?”

“Yeah, the guy’s dead.” For a moment, Yoongi’s blunt response shocked Seokjin, but he quickly recovered from the comment.

“So you’re worried he’ll never fully be yours because of this unrequited love he has with this other man?” Yoongi nodded. Yeah, that pretty much summed it up. Hearing it said out loud hurt him more than he thought it would and suddenly he felt sick. His stomach churned at the thought of losing Jimin before he was even his to lose.

“I want to go home,” Yoongi murmured suddenly as he stood up from his stool with a wobble. Seokjin reached across the counter to steady Yoongi.

“I’ll take you home.”

“No, I’ll walk.”

“I don’t trust you to go home by yourself. You might do something stupid.” Yoongi could catch Seokjin’s drift with that comment and played the morbidly ironic card by holding up his wrist and showing him the faint white scars there.

“Already have,” he cooed with a bitter smile and Seokjin’s lips formed a tight line.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he said and left somewhere Yoongi didn’t care to pay attention to. Against Seokjin’s request, he started making his way out of the bar and was walking out of the parking lot when Seokjin caught up to him. He grabbed Yoongi’s arm and steered him towards his car, helping him into the passenger seat with an annoyed huff.

“I forgot the fourth type of drunk. Stubborn,” he said as he started the car to which Yoongi giggled in amusement.