Chapter Text
“swear to god, namjoon, this better be the last one.”
the boy that stands before them is just that. a boy, dewy-eyed, edges still soft in ways time is yet to weather. he has an overbite, a nose that’s too big now but will likely even out later, a healthy pallor to his skin. yoongi can see from the small distance between them that his hands are shaking, fingers twitching like a twig snapping would be enough to make him bolt.
yoongi’s own hands are covered in ash. he can taste it every time he swallows.
“name?”
“this is jungkook,” namjoon nudges the boy gently with his shoulder. he blinks up at the taller man, an entire life of unknown experiences told in the quiver of his lashes, the purse of his lips. another nudge and then he’s turning back to the rest of them and bowing his head.
“please take care of me,” he says, eyes meeting yoongi’s, and oh, dear. oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, the poor thing has no clue.
a couple of the others stand up to welcome him, cooing at the formality, asking where he’s from, how old he is, cheering when they discover they finally have a junior because jungkook is just shy of nineteen, still in high school. jimin is particularly pleased, immediately breaking out into dialect and taking the boy under his wing, literally swinging an arm around his neck, though it’s a bit of a stretch up for him.
the tip of yoongi’s thumb aches slightly as he strikes the flint wheel of his lighter, taking in the scene but more focused on the on, off, on, off, on of the tiny source of heat in the corner of his eye. the boy still looks apprehensive, responds to the conversation with few words and a quiet tone, still uncertain. amidst the loud laughter and friendly voices, it’s as though it’s his first time feeling this kind of warmth.
yoongi doesn’t think about that. he’s not curious.
but the boy is. those eyes, in the midst of the chaos around him, fixate on the on, off, on, blinking in time with each flick. the flames reflect back at yoongi, glassy, far away. he holds his thumb down, as long as he can, and the fire sways this way and that, a serpent charmed. those eyes, those eyes meet his and how odd it is to see that same serpent reflected in them.
the boy smiles at him with his chapped, pink mouth, small and shy. yoongi wonders if there were oleanders in eden, and lets the flame die.
-
little beast, is what yoongi learns he is. he calls him so. if he can forget his name then he won’t be giving him power. over nothing, of course. there can’t possibly a thing the youngest can hold against him, yet he somehow finds himself with the teenager asleep against his chest.
summer has long set, heat bled out of the air and settling into longer, cooler evenings. yoongi sets fires for them in their little makeshift pit, and they sit around the yard and enjoy its warmth while they can still be outside. the nighttime will grow ever harsher, and soon yoongi’s fires won’t be enough. jungkook has taken to wiping the soot from his hands.
he’s still here, undeterred by their loudness, their silences, has seen all sides, good, ugly, gray. he’s nineteen now, only just, coming to the end of his penultimate year of education. they know of his loudness now, his silences, all of his sides, too. they know about his night terrors, the day terrors that he can’t escape with sleep. they know he has his doubts about graduating, and they make sure he goes to school.
they know about the trouble he gets into afterwards. how namjoon had first found him, picking a fight with men too old for mercy. though their group of then-six was no host of angels, namjoon had seen a way to steer the kid away from a darker kind of trouble. like all of them, namjoon had voiced his uncertainty that it would work, that jungkook would fit, but then the kid had turned up at the man’s trailer with his uniform and backpack still on. so six became seven.
the fire in front of them crackles, sharp and loud. yoongi watches the blackened wood split open, spurting embers as it reveals a gleaming red core. they dance into the air, swirling, before they fade quick as they came and turn to ash. the flames burn through the core, glowing brighter, hotter, charred exterior forgotten.
a few of them are drinking tonight. namjoon and jimin made the most of their pay and allowances to treat the group, with taehyung happily taking advantage of the fact. hoseok opted to remain sober, for reasons only the eldest four know, and seokjin’s their designated driver, oldest of the group. he and hoseok are looking through the footage taken earlier in the day, and the collection of polaroids he keeps in his glovebox.
“we should go here,” seokjin’s saying, quiet, because when the youngest sleeps around them, it’s dreamless. priceless. he lifts up a photograph, showing it to hoseok first, then the rest of them, each one nodding and humming their agreement as it makes a round. yoongi is no different, and as though sensing the lull in the atmosphere, the little beast wakes up. his eyes register the photo first, then the ever-flickering lighter the other side of his cradle’s lap.
“let’s go,” he says, with a smile, and leans over to blow the flame out.
-
the beach is untouched at this time of year. in the city, their demons follow them around every corner, but the horizon here is just as endless, bare, as they had dared to hope. they run, kicking sand up their clothes, taking in the clear air and sun like their lives depend on it. they stay a whole day, need to, even. they exhaust themselves fairly early in the afternoon, which leaves most of them curling up in seokjin’s truck to take a short rest.
it all feels too ephemeral, in a way that can’t be controlled. yoongi opts not to rest, heading to the pier where one other boy seems to be feeling the same. he’s sitting with his feet over the edge, hand cupped in a loose circle as though marooned and seeking out any signs of life.
“what do you see, little beast,” yoongi settles beside him, throwing an arm around the youngest. he could say because it’s cold, because it’s habit. both are synonymous now. he searches the stretch of water, as though he might find an answer.
jungkook doesn’t speak, lowering his hand to watch yoongi, instead. yoongi doesn’t turn his head back, but the weight of the gaze on him is heavy. perhaps there is their answer. the boy manages a soft hyung , before the sound of car doors opening and slamming, bodies moving across the sand, calls them back away.
the trip ends when taehyung leaps off of some scaffolding into the ocean. despite the initial curiosity of the remaining six, the sun sets on the sounds of their shouting, a splash, and a struggle to get him out of the water. what were you thinking, you fucking idiot becomes the melody over the syncopated rhythm of their frantic hearts as they load him into the back seat of the truck, wrapped in a blanket to keep him warm. yoongi volunteers to ride in the truck bed and makes hoseok sit with him, insisting that the youngest three should take the back because they need the rest.
“you think you’ll corrupt him,” hoseok says, and yoongi’s certain he too can feel that weight from earlier bearing down on them. yoongi thinks back to the first night, to reflective eyes, the serpentine flame.
“it’s not me i’m afraid he’ll sink his teeth into.”
the city reaches them faster than they left it, and they all disperse, save for two.
“hyung.”
he waits. beasts, no matter how little, will attack when provoked.
“my parents changed the locks, hyung.”
it isn’t begging. begging requires hope, and there is none when the boy speaks. there is no desperation in his eyes when they meet yoongi’s. only reflections. only reflections.
the night ends before the sun rises. it ends when yoongi brings the little beast into his home, holds him close, tells him he’s not a beast at all.
“you'll be alright, jungkook. you’re welcome with me.”
the sun rises, and the day begins without them. when they wake, jungkook tells him they’re far from eden. but this is home. this is an offering, clear as day to no one but them. the only two people here in a dusty studio, their world bare of poisonous flowers, the serpent out of sight.
jungkook holds the fruit in his palm and yoongi takes a bite.