misfits. bts ot7

one

seokjin sent out a text message to meet at the train yard, promptly 11:45 so they could grab lunch together and spend the night at the beach.

taehyung was the first to arrive.

it wasn't like he had much to do anyway. living on the streets left him with nothing to do but forage and steal for food and take quick jobs to earn as much money as he could. his friends always offered help, but it wasn't like they could do much. they were all needy teenagers, the oldest being seokjin at 19 years.

next to arrive were jimin and yoongi, ditching the rest of their school day for the trip.

they always stuck together, like two peas in a pod. it was cute; the tiny boys with giant jansport backpacks and baggy jeans who never left each other.

next was hoseok, a bottle of xanax in his backpack, feeling like bricks weighing him down when they, in reality, barely weighed anything.

the way he felt was probably metaphoric for how heavy these pills were in his heart. they were his addiction, his cigarettes and alcohol. and they were most definitely not supposed to be like that.

after hoseok came namjoon, calling in sick to the fast food place he worked at with the most pathetic sick voice he could muster. did they believe him?

probably not.

but did they let him skip that day?

yes, yes they did, and that was all that mattered.

next came jungkook, pale and thin and stumbling into the train yard to sit on the tracks with an all too quiet thud.

he'd skipped school too.

he knew he would be in for it when he got home the next morning. his parents would probably ground him. they didn't seem to care enough to do much more than that. if they cared any more, they would have noticed he hadn't been eating and they would have asked him why he went to he bathroom after every meal.

seokjin came last, ironically, crashing in dramatically with a bag of cheetos in one hand and his backpack slung over his other shoulder.

"you're late mom," jimin teased.

"i'm not your mother, dipshit. men aren't mothers."

"i know," jimin smiled and sat back on the train tracks. "you're my man-mom."

yoongi scowled.

"oh my god you're disgusting."

they somehow fit all seven of them into seokjin's truck, the three youngest crammed together in the back seat. hoseok and yoongi got the trunk just because they were older, and the car was loud with the complaints of the younger boys.

"well, you should have been born earlier, dipshits," seokjin said. "not my damn fault."

"don't be an age-ist asshole," jungkook mumbled. "age is only a number."

"say that when you're eighty three and kim seokjin died a year ago, see if it's only a damn number then."

namjoon snickered, "that's a dark way to put it."

"i'll kick you out of my truck, asshat."

° ° °

the beach was nice.

they got there just as the sun was setting, spreading hues of seven different colors across the sky.

taehyung sat with namjoon on a ragged blanket in the sand.

"so, when are you and seokjin getting married?"

"oh, shut up, will you?" namjoon grumbled. "never, bitch, never. we're never getting married."

"come on, jin couldn't be nearly as bad as my dad."

taehyung said it as a joke, but it tore a little piece off of namjoon's heart, because he knew what taehyung's father was like. he knew damn well why taehyung ran away from home.

"i meant it to be funny, namjoon. it's been a while since he did anything to me, i'm okay now," taehyung smiled. "laugh a little, will you? don't be so serious about everything."

namjoon's lips finally curled up into a smile. "you couldn't be okay, kid," he said. "i heard you crying in the bathroom a few days ago after yoongi yelled at you cause he was drunk. you're not okay."

taehyung sighed, smile slightly fading. "namjoon, please let me say i'm okay now," he said, his eyes darting away from namjoon's face. "i want to at least feel okay."

namjoon couldn't reply, and taehyung smiled a bit, mostly as an act of assurance that he wasn't doing as terrible as he seemed to think.

"namjoon, i'm okay now, alright?"

a beat.

"alright."