the devil skates on thin ice ∙ myg ✓

4 ↝ the angel in red and blue

The street lamps wheel through the night sky like dying stars, intoxication grabbing the light bulbs and pelting them into the black abyss. Yoongi attempts to straighten out his thoughts by kneading his knuckles into his eyes, but this only aids to further distort his vision.

He blearily parts his lashes to find his surroundings swaying in time with the muffled bass that thumps in the near distance. Littered cups, small puddles of tipped alcohol, random costume items, and a sole shoe without its partner all hint at the staple signs of a frat party close by. That, paired with the fact that the very cement vibrates beneath their feet—a combination of blaring house music, the hum of chittering voices, and roaring cheers—quite literally screams college students on a Friday night.

Vodka shots are warm in his stomach, licking through his veins and buzzing in his fingertips. Nurturing a flame that distracts him from the frosty climate. The cold cannot reach him tonight.

"You are so full of shit, man. Seriously, let me go get a diaper so I can strap it beneath your chin to catch all the shit you're dribbling."

Taehyung, sipping at his cup of premix, chokes and spits out: Motherfucker!—along with the fake fangs that he wears as a part of his vampire attire—when Jimin, currently dressed as Clark Kent, connects his palm with the back of his honey-blonde head. The theme for the evening is freeform: dress as absolutely anything or anyone that you please, as long as you commit to wearing an outfit. Hanbin, currently struggling with the cap of his beer bottle, wears his Freddy Krueger costume from last Halloween, while Yoongi has kept it simple with a Grease-esque outfit of a leather jacket, white shirt, and blue skinny jeans. His hair is slicker than his insides with wax.

"I'm serious," Jimin shrugs, continuing to idly scroll through his Facebook app, swiping away the message from Wonwoo that Yoongi previously saw in the team group chat, saying: make sure tae doesn't smoke all the fukin weed. Taehyung takes an extra long hit of the spliff as though he has just read Jimin's mind. "I always do something I regret when I get wasted. Remember the Dunkin' Donuts incident? Never again."

"I'm with Taehyung, you'll bitch in," Hanbin grins when he finally pops the cap off, knocking back a swig of beer and stepping over a puddle that looks more like alcohol thrown back up than spilt from a cup. "Because that's what you are, dude. A little bitch."

Taehyung chokes on the smoke, still managing to do finger-guns and smile through his watering eyes. "Only for me."

"Bitch in? Isn't it bitch out?" Jimin muses, shoving Taehyung off his arm when he sidles up, humming something along the lines of: My lil' bitch. Jimin snatches the roach from Taehyung before he drops it onto the path, and Hanbin waves his beer bottle at the both of them.

"Same dog, different tail." Hanbin says, and Taehyung, recovering from stumbling into a lamp post and taking the joint back from Jimin, interrupts with: It's leg. "Leg, thanks bro. But c'mon, dude! We have two weeks left until the semi-final and training is going to be a bag of dicks after this weekend, so that's exactly why you should be letting loose tonight. Look, even the Cap is getting on the juice!"

Yoongi's mouth is full of cotton, tongue tasting like wool and Russia. "Don't bring me into your bitch fight."

"Plus, the Dunkin' Donuts incident was the funniest thing that happened to us last summer!" Taehyung adds, nearly yelling at this point, they are that close to the calamity. "Who knew you could fit so many donuts on your–"

"Shut up, for fuck's sake!" Jimin screeches, causing a few of the more sober heads on the front lawn of the frat house to turn towards them. With a fierce yank by the collar, Jimin brings Taehyung's dumbly grinning face right up to his own, hissing underneath his breath. "I will burn your entire comic collection in the oven if you ever speak word of that again."