Haze
one || one
There’s a cloud above his head, a dark and twisting hurricane kind of cloud. And it’s leaking into his brain – out of his brain? Tornado steam trails out of his nostrils as he breathes, in out in stop out in out stop. He rubs his temples in an attempt to calm the living storm inside of him, gives up and pounds another drink instead. Why was he here again?
Words tumble around behind his eyelids trying to form their way into thoughts, make at least some sense. But his tongue feels heavy and he’s not sure he even wants to try for thoughts tonight.
A figure slides into the bar stool next to him as he twirls his refilled glass between somewhat shaky hands. The figure mumbles something to the bartender, probably their drink of choice, but he doesn’t hear it –it’s all just static anyways…
“Hey.” It leans closer to him and he feels his shoulders tense up. “You looked a little lonely over here.”
“Not lonely,” he slurs, furrowing his brow as he tries hard to concentrate on the ice and liquid in front of him.
The man next to him shrugs, and sits a little further back up in his chair. “Fair enough,” takes a sip from the drink in his own hand. Yoongi thinks maybe that was that, and bows his head closer toward the counter.
“Kinda crazy in here!” the boy says, a little too loud and a lot too close. Yoongi cringes and shies away, fresh blood and alcohol pounding pounding pounding. “Sorry,” he tries a little quieter this time. “Taehyung. I just thought maybe you could use a little company. People like you don’t usually end up in clubs like this all alone.” Yoongi can feel the smirk on the boy’s lips, the heat from his body next to him. His head hurt…
“Sooo…”
Dammit. He tips his head up toward the ceiling, stares for a while through the cloud and debris of words, drags his eyes back down and to the boy seated next to him. Stops. Taehyung is smiling at him, sickeningly, probably not meaning to be. He is not what the dark of his companion’s eyes had painted him to be. Yoongi wants to laugh. A little slips out and he bites it off sharply, fixing a piercing stare back into the smile.
“So what?” he concedes, little daggers dragging up his throat.
“Your name.” This boy has soft eyes, and Yoongi feels himself pitying him. Taehyung said it lightly, quietly as he tipped his glass back to his lips, eyes never leaving Yoongi’s.
Why had he come to this club again? He’d just needed a drink; he didn’t want this. This boy’s persona matches the club scene well, he thinks. The club is loud, and vibrantly colorful, and annoying… He swallows hard against the angry words in his throat. He did not match the club scene well. He just wanted a drink..
“How old are you anyway, kid,” Yoongi sneers, half laughing half serious. Did he even know what he was getting into?
“Ehhhhh,” Taehyung jokes, nudging his shoulder playfully. Shivers go up Yoongi’s spine. “Old enough to get your name at least.”
A half smile bubbles in his stomach, shoots through his veins like wildfire, and simmers subtlely on his face. Taehyung laughs a little beside him. “What?”
“Nothing,” the younger boy stammers out, swirling the ice in his cup.
Yoongi pounds another glass into his uneven system. His head hurt. He could throw up. He wanted another drink..
---
The music’s loud, mixing with the black and rain and storm above the one man, and the color and glow and sun above the other. Drifting in and out of coherency, and little smiles, and biting remarks. How long had he been here?
“You have a good smile, y’know.” Taehyung is leaning on the counter, arm propping up his drowsy head. His soft brown eyes trail daisies across the counter in a lazy circle, following the motions of his other hand. He was drawing in the condensation that had melted off his glass. Just a kid, really..
“You’re drunk.” Yoongi slurs his own words though, and Taehyung snickers into his palm.
“I’m seeerious,” he whines, puppy dog eyes peering up at his companion through a tangle of blonde hair. He seems to contemplate something for a while, bouncing it around his intoxicated mind before just deciding to say it. Slowly though, choosing his words carefully, and speaking them gently. “You have nice eyes, too.. Like… I don’t know, they’re just nice. That’s why I came over here..” he trails off.
“Because I have nice eyes?” Yoongi pulls a hand through his mess of hair. The music pounds through his head, and someone bumps him as they try to get past.
“Yeah…” A little smile peeks over his lips, and he stops his water drawing. Runs eyes up the brunette – along his jawline, in and out of the curves of his lips, coming to a rest somewhere in the space next to his right ear. Yoongi shifts awkwardly in his barstool. It was getting hard to breathe in here, he thinks, the air is getting thicker. Maybe he was just being choked by the smoke inside of him..
Taehyung rests his head gently down on his arm, flat against the hard counter. Yoongi watches his eyelashes float up and down, slow motion, til the tired takes over and they couldn’t float back up anymore. “I think I must have been a good person in my past life…” the boy mumbles drowsily.
Yoongi rubs his temples again, trying to piece together how the two had gotten here exactly. He exhales slowly, purposefully, breathing out everything he had in him, everything he didn’t have in him. He closes his eyes tight and tries to block out the noise of the music, the voices of the drunken people all around him. Focus on breathing. In out stop in stop ou-
He feels something poke him, right between the eyebrows, and he flashes his brown eyes open. A bright smile greets him, almost too bright for how dark the club was. “Your smile looks better than your frown,” the boy teases, removing his pointer finger from Yoongi’s forehead.
“I thought you were sleeping,” he breathes out heavily, rubbing his forehead roughly.
Taehyung just giggles quietly, resting his head back down on the counter.
“You’re drunk,” Yoongi reiterates, but he feels himself loosening around the edges. The sunshine above breaks away part of the cloud, and the rain turns into a slight drizzle.
“So are you,” the blonde shoots back playfully. “What’s your point, are you gonna take me home?” Soft browns are locked back on Yoongi’s, and the brunette’s not sure where to look. Taehyung lets him swim in it for a while, just staring, waiting, before a thin smirk crawls across his features.
Yoongi tears his head away, tips the glass to his mouth again. How many of these had he had already?
“You really do have nice eyes…” he hears the boy mumble sleepily next to him. Smiles behind his glass.
“You should go home, kid,” he prods the boy’s shoulder with his elbow. Taehyung shoots up, startled, looks around a little frantic at first. He lands his gaze on the brunette, and a smile creeps onto his face.
“Ehhhh,” a toothy grin, and the joking eyes again. “Trying to get rid of me?”
Bright light seeps cracks through the dark shadows, painting white vein trails through smothering black arteries. “I might be,” the older man ventures carefully. This boy has soft eyes, and he feels himself calming down, his breathing slowing just a little bit.
“But you might not be…” He picks up on the hitch in Yoongi’s voice, as he brings his own glass back up to his lips.
If there was a response, it gets lost in the static color all around them, and they sit and nurse their melted ice and alcohol for what seems like a long while. He feels the pounding pounding behind his eyes, and breathes in deep some of the smoke that had escaped his brain.
Taehyung starts drawing circles again in the condensation and Yoongi watches his hand blankly. Circles? No… he was drawing… numbers maybe?
“What are you doing?”
A light grin. Trying to pull words out from his swirling head. “I was… trying to write my number, but,” he snickers through the stupor, “it keeps melting.”
“Your… number?”
“Well, I think we both know how tonight ends,” Taehyung latches eyes back on to Yoongi. Soft eyes, Yoongi thinks. “But, I figured…” he trails off and tries hard to get the numbers to stay.
Light trails find their way to the brunette’s brain, poke holes in the smoke. He’s tired, and the alcohol hurts his head, and the boy has soft eyes…
---
The blonde mumbles something in his sleep, his head teetering on his outstretched arm. Yoongi watches him for a long while, eyes blinking slowly under the strain of fighting sleep himself. He drags his finger through water, circling shapes and numbers, wiping a hand over them and doing it again.
Pointedly, and before he can pull sense through the intoxicated haze, he asks the bartender for a pen, grabs a napkin across the counter. Scribbles numbers and words and he thinks it makes sense, seems alright. He stares a little longer, a little lighter, at the boy with the soft eyes and watches his lips as they paint dream words into the thick air. He puts the note next to the boy’s cheek, and sits back in his chair.
Pounds another drink and doesn’t move. He should leave now probably, but the seat feels nice and he is tired and he probably can’t just leave him here… The cloud above him dissipates throughout the club, grows thinner and softer. Why had he come to this club again?
Words tumble around behind his eyelids trying to form their way into thoughts, make at least some sense. But his tongue feels heavy and he’s not sure he even wants to try for thoughts tonight.
A figure slides into the bar stool next to him as he twirls his refilled glass between somewhat shaky hands. The figure mumbles something to the bartender, probably their drink of choice, but he doesn’t hear it –it’s all just static anyways…
“Hey.” It leans closer to him and he feels his shoulders tense up. “You looked a little lonely over here.”
“Not lonely,” he slurs, furrowing his brow as he tries hard to concentrate on the ice and liquid in front of him.
The man next to him shrugs, and sits a little further back up in his chair. “Fair enough,” takes a sip from the drink in his own hand. Yoongi thinks maybe that was that, and bows his head closer toward the counter.
“Kinda crazy in here!” the boy says, a little too loud and a lot too close. Yoongi cringes and shies away, fresh blood and alcohol pounding pounding pounding. “Sorry,” he tries a little quieter this time. “Taehyung. I just thought maybe you could use a little company. People like you don’t usually end up in clubs like this all alone.” Yoongi can feel the smirk on the boy’s lips, the heat from his body next to him. His head hurt…
“Sooo…”
Dammit. He tips his head up toward the ceiling, stares for a while through the cloud and debris of words, drags his eyes back down and to the boy seated next to him. Stops. Taehyung is smiling at him, sickeningly, probably not meaning to be. He is not what the dark of his companion’s eyes had painted him to be. Yoongi wants to laugh. A little slips out and he bites it off sharply, fixing a piercing stare back into the smile.
“So what?” he concedes, little daggers dragging up his throat.
“Your name.” This boy has soft eyes, and Yoongi feels himself pitying him. Taehyung said it lightly, quietly as he tipped his glass back to his lips, eyes never leaving Yoongi’s.
Why had he come to this club again? He’d just needed a drink; he didn’t want this. This boy’s persona matches the club scene well, he thinks. The club is loud, and vibrantly colorful, and annoying… He swallows hard against the angry words in his throat. He did not match the club scene well. He just wanted a drink..
“How old are you anyway, kid,” Yoongi sneers, half laughing half serious. Did he even know what he was getting into?
“Ehhhhh,” Taehyung jokes, nudging his shoulder playfully. Shivers go up Yoongi’s spine. “Old enough to get your name at least.”
A half smile bubbles in his stomach, shoots through his veins like wildfire, and simmers subtlely on his face. Taehyung laughs a little beside him. “What?”
“Nothing,” the younger boy stammers out, swirling the ice in his cup.
Yoongi pounds another glass into his uneven system. His head hurt. He could throw up. He wanted another drink..
---
The music’s loud, mixing with the black and rain and storm above the one man, and the color and glow and sun above the other. Drifting in and out of coherency, and little smiles, and biting remarks. How long had he been here?
“You have a good smile, y’know.” Taehyung is leaning on the counter, arm propping up his drowsy head. His soft brown eyes trail daisies across the counter in a lazy circle, following the motions of his other hand. He was drawing in the condensation that had melted off his glass. Just a kid, really..
“You’re drunk.” Yoongi slurs his own words though, and Taehyung snickers into his palm.
“I’m seeerious,” he whines, puppy dog eyes peering up at his companion through a tangle of blonde hair. He seems to contemplate something for a while, bouncing it around his intoxicated mind before just deciding to say it. Slowly though, choosing his words carefully, and speaking them gently. “You have nice eyes, too.. Like… I don’t know, they’re just nice. That’s why I came over here..” he trails off.
“Because I have nice eyes?” Yoongi pulls a hand through his mess of hair. The music pounds through his head, and someone bumps him as they try to get past.
“Yeah…” A little smile peeks over his lips, and he stops his water drawing. Runs eyes up the brunette – along his jawline, in and out of the curves of his lips, coming to a rest somewhere in the space next to his right ear. Yoongi shifts awkwardly in his barstool. It was getting hard to breathe in here, he thinks, the air is getting thicker. Maybe he was just being choked by the smoke inside of him..
Taehyung rests his head gently down on his arm, flat against the hard counter. Yoongi watches his eyelashes float up and down, slow motion, til the tired takes over and they couldn’t float back up anymore. “I think I must have been a good person in my past life…” the boy mumbles drowsily.
Yoongi rubs his temples again, trying to piece together how the two had gotten here exactly. He exhales slowly, purposefully, breathing out everything he had in him, everything he didn’t have in him. He closes his eyes tight and tries to block out the noise of the music, the voices of the drunken people all around him. Focus on breathing. In out stop in stop ou-
He feels something poke him, right between the eyebrows, and he flashes his brown eyes open. A bright smile greets him, almost too bright for how dark the club was. “Your smile looks better than your frown,” the boy teases, removing his pointer finger from Yoongi’s forehead.
“I thought you were sleeping,” he breathes out heavily, rubbing his forehead roughly.
Taehyung just giggles quietly, resting his head back down on the counter.
“You’re drunk,” Yoongi reiterates, but he feels himself loosening around the edges. The sunshine above breaks away part of the cloud, and the rain turns into a slight drizzle.
“So are you,” the blonde shoots back playfully. “What’s your point, are you gonna take me home?” Soft browns are locked back on Yoongi’s, and the brunette’s not sure where to look. Taehyung lets him swim in it for a while, just staring, waiting, before a thin smirk crawls across his features.
Yoongi tears his head away, tips the glass to his mouth again. How many of these had he had already?
“You really do have nice eyes…” he hears the boy mumble sleepily next to him. Smiles behind his glass.
“You should go home, kid,” he prods the boy’s shoulder with his elbow. Taehyung shoots up, startled, looks around a little frantic at first. He lands his gaze on the brunette, and a smile creeps onto his face.
“Ehhhh,” a toothy grin, and the joking eyes again. “Trying to get rid of me?”
Bright light seeps cracks through the dark shadows, painting white vein trails through smothering black arteries. “I might be,” the older man ventures carefully. This boy has soft eyes, and he feels himself calming down, his breathing slowing just a little bit.
“But you might not be…” He picks up on the hitch in Yoongi’s voice, as he brings his own glass back up to his lips.
If there was a response, it gets lost in the static color all around them, and they sit and nurse their melted ice and alcohol for what seems like a long while. He feels the pounding pounding behind his eyes, and breathes in deep some of the smoke that had escaped his brain.
Taehyung starts drawing circles again in the condensation and Yoongi watches his hand blankly. Circles? No… he was drawing… numbers maybe?
“What are you doing?”
A light grin. Trying to pull words out from his swirling head. “I was… trying to write my number, but,” he snickers through the stupor, “it keeps melting.”
“Your… number?”
“Well, I think we both know how tonight ends,” Taehyung latches eyes back on to Yoongi. Soft eyes, Yoongi thinks. “But, I figured…” he trails off and tries hard to get the numbers to stay.
Light trails find their way to the brunette’s brain, poke holes in the smoke. He’s tired, and the alcohol hurts his head, and the boy has soft eyes…
---
The blonde mumbles something in his sleep, his head teetering on his outstretched arm. Yoongi watches him for a long while, eyes blinking slowly under the strain of fighting sleep himself. He drags his finger through water, circling shapes and numbers, wiping a hand over them and doing it again.
Pointedly, and before he can pull sense through the intoxicated haze, he asks the bartender for a pen, grabs a napkin across the counter. Scribbles numbers and words and he thinks it makes sense, seems alright. He stares a little longer, a little lighter, at the boy with the soft eyes and watches his lips as they paint dream words into the thick air. He puts the note next to the boy’s cheek, and sits back in his chair.
Pounds another drink and doesn’t move. He should leave now probably, but the seat feels nice and he is tired and he probably can’t just leave him here… The cloud above him dissipates throughout the club, grows thinner and softer. Why had he come to this club again?