namjoon has a drinking problem and yoongi has a hoseok problem. 

 chortles as he passes his smoke to Namjoon“ing gay,” Yoongi. The only light at this hour is the bright orange ring at the end of the smoke when Yoongi takes a drag of it. He holds in the smoke for a few seconds, until his lungs are screaming at him, and then lets it out with watery eyes and a violent cough. The smoke lingers around his head and he nearly drops the ing joint. 

“Hell ing yeah, I just,” he stops to cough some more, “I just really want his in my , you know?” 

“What I didn’t know was that you’re a bottom .” 

“Nah, just a bottom,” Yoongi kicks his feet, dragging his toe to write his name in the mulch. He just can’t ing see it, but he can imagine it. “I could never be a .” 

It’s another one of Namjoon and Yoongi’s Nighttime Adventures, which isn’t much of an adventure as much as it is sitting on the swings of the old playground at 2AM smoking cheap weed for a quick high. Namjoon could definitely afford better weed, Yoongi has had the joy of partaking with Namjoon in the consumption of this pricey plant, but anything is better than nothing right now. Everything is finally starting to hit Yoongi like a ton of bricks. He’s going to be eighteen in two weeks and a week after that is college tests and then two weeks after that is the deadline for college applications and Yoongi doesn’t think he can make it to spring break without this cheap weed. And it’ll take even more of that cheap weed and a couple of bad s to even think about making it to graduation. 

“So...this ing Hoseok guy,” Namjoon starts but his voice soon trails off. 

?” Hm“Yoongi says some time later, focusing his mind on his high before it wears off. 

Hoseok is like the gold at the end of the rainbow. Actually, he’s the whole goddamn rainbow and the pot of gold. With Hoseok, there’s no doubt that Yoongi could make it to spring break and probably even graduation, but Hoseok isn’t his so he’ll have to stick to cheap weed and bad s.  

“I’m done with this ,” Namjoon says as he passes the smoke to Yoongi who gladly accepts it. It doesn’t take him too long to smoke the rest of it before he tosses it on the ground and wriggles his toe on it. Yoongi hears the sound of a flask popping open and he looks over. He can’t see , but he knows Namjoon is downing more of his expensive gin, the item that so ruthlessly replaced quality .  

“Your kidneys are going to explode,” Yoongi says slowly, trying to hold back a laugh. 

Pop. Namjoon sighs. “I sure ing hope so. Why else would I drink myself into complete oblivion three times a week?” 

Yoongi laughs to himself, knowing full well that Namjoon would stop at the drop of a hat. Namjoon just loves being dramatic and causing an uproar. He still has a hefty inheritance waiting for him the second his mom decides to drop dead. Yoongi doesn’t necessarily have that luxury. For Yoongi, money doesn’t just appear under his pillow in the morning, but he’s smart. Kinda. Not really, but all he has in life is a high GPA and pale skin. Hopefully one of them will do him some good one day. 

 says, fumbling around in the dark to find Namjoon“I’m ready when you are,” Yoongi’s hand. It’s nothing new, Namjoon too wrecked to even walk straight, especially in the dark. 

“Yeah and I’m the gay one,” Yoongi laughs as Namjoon’s clammy hand closes around his. "You can't even walk straight." Bad puns erupt from him. Yoongi feels the weight of Namjoon on his side when he pulls him up standing. 

“I don’t want your in my , or vice versa. You’re gay all alone, bud.” 

Yoongi flops onto his bed about 3:30AM after taking the long route home from Namjoon’s house. The streetlights buzzed a white light above head but slowly getting more and more yellow the closer Yoongi got to his own house. He peels off his jacket and uses it as a pitiful blanket, despite the chill that has already settled into his bones. The weed still has his mind a bit fuzzy, but it’s a gentle lullaby that carries him down a winding stream and slowly to sleep. Yoongi dreams of rainbows and pots of gold, wishing that all of it could be his to keep. 

Orange calms Yoongi: carrots, mango, peaches, and cheddar chips. It all keeps him balanced somehow. So when someone dumps an entire bottle of vodka into the bowl of orange Fanta and Sprite, Yoongi is all over it. Yoongi has no idea where the vodka came from, who brought it, or how much soda is in that bowl, but Yoongi knows he’s going to need it in his system immediately. Needless to say, Yoongi is the first one to drink from the punch bowl, ungracefully picking the whole thing up and ing chugging it. His face shrivels as the carbonation and vodka burns down his throat and the buzz slowly creeps into his system. Around him, everyone cheers as he lets out a loud scream. A few people help him set the fancy glass bowl back onto the expensive marble table. Namjoon rushes to the bowl, filling up his amusement park size cup and taking large gulps from it. Yoongi looks over at him, letting out an ugly laugh. As he stumbles across the room, attempting to dodge exotic plants and ridiculously expensive painting, a bright light flashes in his face. Yoongi swears as his hands rush to cover up his eyes from the sudden light. 

“I swear, I’ll ing kill you,” Yoongi threatens but a laugh that reminds him of rainbows after heavy storms fills his ears. 

“You’re so cute when you drink. I just had to get a picture of it,” Hoseok squeals. “You know one day in twenty years, I’ll look back at this exact moment and remember you, Min Yoongi. The guy who always drank from the punch bowl, especially the ones that had orange Fanta. I’m gonna tell my kids about you.” 

“Yeah, well I’m ing honored,” Yoongi says as he blinks away the white dots from his vision. Hoseok stands in front of him with his little fake polaroid with the faded polka dot strap around his neck and a bright smile on his face. 

“Here, look at it,” Hoseok says, shaking the picture in front of Yoongi’s face. Yoongi pretends to be annoyed, but gingerly takes the photo from Hoseok anyways. It’s bright and extremely overexposed but Yoongi can still see the reddish brown tint to his own hair, along with the olive of his bomber jacket. The photo itself has a slightly orange tinge to it, since the lights in the room are pretty dim and warm. His pale face is totally washed out by the flash of the camera, but very faintly can he see his own expression of surprise and disgust. 

“I’ll use this in my modelling portfolio. It’s not every day that you see a face quite like this.” 

“You mean with Cheeto crumbs on their cheeks with their breath smelling of vodka and Sprite?” Hoseok laughs as Yoongi wipes his face off, not feeling a single Cheeto crumb on his skin. Hoseok is too perfect and maybe it’s the adrenaline of drinking the punch (though it’s definitely not that) that has his heart rate increasing. They stand there like that for a few seconds until Yoongi leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He says the only thing that makes sense to him. 

“Let’s go get you drunk, Mr. Cameraman.”  

The boy agrees, placing his camera in the closet next to them, the one that everyone is convinced is haunted or something. It's actually Namjoon's favorite closet to hotbox in when his mom is out late wrapping up cases or his dad is sitting in someone's office pitching ideas for a new marketing strategy. 

Yoongi grabs another one of Namjoon’s amusement park size cups and fills it with the sweet orange concoction. He generously hands it to Hoseok whose beautifully clear eyes widen with innocence surprise. 

“What?” Yoongi asks, taking a drink from the ladle. His germs are already mixed into the bowl, along with those of three or four others as well. Death is among us all, Yoongi thinks, why not die like this? 

“I’m not really an alcoholic like you and Namjoon,” Hoseok says as he takes a small sip. Yoongi whines in displeasure, pressing the cup to Hoseok’s lips and then tipping it back a bit. Hoseok takes a larger swig but quickly steps away as it goes down his throat. He coughs a bit, the mixture of soda and alcohol being a bit much for his throat. 

“It’s not fun to take little sips, Hoseok,” Yoongi kinda yells. Hoseok looks up at him with a smile dancing in his beautiful eyes. Yoongi finds himself falling but he looks away before he can’t catch himself. Hoseok is a poison, toxic, lethal, but Yoongi couldn’t think of a better way to die. 

“Hand it there, rook,” Yoongi says as he takes the cup from Hoseok’s fingers. He tilts the cup back, downing nearly a quarter of its contents before he takes another breath. The burn soothes and energizes his body. He could actually sit down and write all the essays he needs for college apps and scholarships and still have enough energy to take another gulp. 

“I can’t believe you could do that so easily,” Hoseok says with surprise. He looks struck with awe as Yoongi hands the cup back to him. Yoongi nearly responds, but somewhere in another room he hears Namjoon screaming something about a game and seeing someone’s s. Yoongi grabs Hoseok by the shoulders and uses him as a human shield to push through the throng of people rushing to the living room. Namjoon stands on the glass table clad only in his low sitting Fendi jeans and limited edition Ralph Lauren socks. He screams something about being the king of house parties before someone less rowdy and more clothed (Yoongi remembers him as Jin, since Namjoon started buying expensive-as- gin a day after he met this guy). 

“Who wants to get ing wasted?” Jin says, holding up his red cup. The crowd around him cheers, encouraging Namjoon even more. 

“Everyone take a ing seat, my buddy here is gonna explain some rules and ,” Namjoon says, still standing on the table. He points to Yoongi across the room, shaking his shoulders when he sees Hoseok standing so close to him, “Don’t get that orange on my couch Min Yoongi!” 

Yoongi flips Namjoon off with a cheeky smile before flopping onto the couch onto Hoseok’s lap. A bit of the orange concoction splashes onto Yoongi’s favorite olive bomber jacket. “Oh, to hell with it,” Yoongi mumbles, pushing up the sleeves and stealing the cup from Hoseok. 

“Why are you sitting on me?” Hoseok asks humorously.  

Yoongi gestures to the rest of the leather couch, already filled with drunken bodies and empty cups, “Well as you can see, friend, there aren’t that many options to choose from. Plus I wanted some more of this delicious orange nectar.” And if Hoseok could ever see behind his painfully obvious excuse, Yoongi could always say he was drunk and didn't really know what he was doing. 

 hate yourself and your hangover in the morning,” gonna“You’re Hoseok says with a laugh. 

“If I die in the morning, at least I can say that I lived for the night!” Yoongi yells, raising his cup to the ceiling. Jin points at him from across the room, “So if I say ‘never have I ever sat on Jung Hoseok’s lap half-drunk with a giant cup of alcohol while screaming’ Yoongi would have to take a drink.” 

Yoongi takes a swig, “Guilty as charged.” 

“We haven’t ing started yet,” Jin says mockingly, causing some laughs to erupt from the crowd. “So everyone understand the game, right? And no liars, either! We’re not gonna remember any of this in the morning, anyways.” 

Jin pulls Namjoon down from off of the table and puts a cup in his hand. Namjoon slumps over, but sits right back up with a declaration of “I’ll start.” 

Yoongi rubs Hoseok’s back as he colors Namjoon’s toilet in ugly shades of orange and brown. Hoseok holds onto his stomach as it purges itself of alcohol and whatever food he may have eaten during the day. In between retches and dry heaves, Hoseok lets out little whines and groans that almost feel Yoongi with pangs of guilt. Almost. Rarely does Yoongi feel guilty, though. But Hoseok is perfect and Yoongi almost feels a sense of embarrassment for tainting Hoseok’s angelic aura. 

“Aw, poor baby,” Yoongi says fake lovingly as he pats Hoseok’s back, “Just let it all out.” 

Hoseok coughs. “I hate you so much–”  

“You know you’re so cute when you’re vomiting. In twenty years, I can tell my kids about this,” Yoongi says teasingly. Too bad Hoseok’s fake polaroid is still in the closet. But it would be a shame if Yoongi didn’t capture this moment, though. But then Hoseok coughs and groans, backing away from the toilet. He props himself up against the tub, holding his head in his hands. Yoongi does feel a pang of guilt now, he really does.  

“I can’t believe that I’m this ing drunk,” Hoseok says slowly, his voice deepening. 

“I’d almost apologize, but that’s not exactly a part of my character.” 

 The night ends with solo cups littering three rooms of Namjoon's house and four boys left in the mess. Namjoon lays on the glass table in the living room with Jin rubbing his bare stomach as Namjoon groans. Yoongi sits on the floor of the hallway with Hoseok's head on his shoulder. He's still mind-numbingly drunk but fully aware of Hoseok's warm presence. It's a blessing and a curse, but Yoongi doesn't believe in blessings. So he takes it all in, the sound of Namjoon making whale sounds and Jin trying to shush him through pretty little giggles. Jin is so delicate and Namjoon is so goddamn fragile and they're painfully perfect for each other. Yoongi could lie to himself and say that he and Hoseok are the same, but that would hurt more than just facing the truth. Yoongi is so close to breaking and Hoseok is so perfect and kind and well put together. He's just so oblivious. His breaths slow to an even pace and Yoongi's heart hurts so ing much he can hardly breathe. 

So he gets away. 

As if Hoseok were suddenly contagious, Yoongi moves away from him, standing up quick enough to make him dizzier than ever. Hoseok falls over with a thud, but looks up at Yoongi with annoyance and maybe even hurt (but Yoongi highly doubts it.) 

"I, uh," Yoongi starts, "I have a chem test in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow." He doesn't even give Hoseok a chance to say a single word before he bolts down the hallway and back through the living room while ignoring his best friend laying and drunk on a glass table. He weaves his way through the house and leaves through the sliding glass doors in the back. The gate in the backyard is still wide open, so Yoongi makes sure he closes it behind him. 

Yoongi gets away. 

He runs down the streets like something is chasing him, until he's dizzy and out of breath because maybe then his heart would stop hurting just a little bit less.  

But it doesn't. 

Yoongi is a complete and utter mess but tries not to act like it. He can give flawless three minute speeches on the spot as if he had weeks to prepare for it. He can produce Vogue worthy shots of the school and the students inside without missing a beat. Yoongi is that kid that makes the other kids say, "How can I be like you? You have your whole life together." But in reality, Yoongi hasn't showered in two days and is still has homework from the beginning of the quarter to turn in. No one knows that though and that's the best part. But he smiles anyways, as genuine as he can muster, before he snaps another incredible photo for the yearbook. Then he heads to the dark room in the middle of an art class, like he owns it. The teacher doesn't even stop her lecture about the importance of cross hatching. There may as well be a plaque outside of the dark room's picture covered wooden door with Yoongi's name on it. It's like the room is his office. And maybe Yoongi pretends that he has his life together, too, as he perfectly manipulates the images exactly how he likes them and hangs them out to dry. For a few minutes, everything in life works out for him. 

Namjoon, on the other hand is the complete opposite of Yoongi. His entire life is mapped out for him and he tries to act as if all he has is now and he has to embrace every moment of it. Namjoon is the type to show up at one of his parents' formal social events with his dress pants cuffed, printed sweat socks totally visible, with his blazer draped on his shoulders and white button up unprofessionally wrinkled. He talks too loudly and laughs as business executives and lawyers give short speeches and takes too many flutes of champagne from the ladies walking around offering them. But all of that is okay, no matter how many times his parents threaten to revoke his debit card that they continue to pump with cash. Namjoon is going to be a lawyer no matter how much he pretends to hate it. He's going to follow in his mother's footsteps and study law halfway across the world in one of the best schools on the globe. He's probably going to fail his first semester just to put up a fight and may only take two classes the semester after that, but after that summer Namjoon is gonna get his together. No matter how many social events Namjoon blunders or how much cheap weed his parents find poorly hidden in his drawers, everything is going to be perfectly fine for Kim Namjoon.