DEATHDAYS - a BTS OT7 post-apocalypse au

/three

Yoongi opened his eyes as a sudden shadow was cast overhead, cringing against the light of the morning.

He was curled at the foot of a tree in a bed of leaves, his hood was up and the kitten was nestled against his stomach, fast asleep.

Yoongi raised a hand to shield his eyes, still squinting in the sunlight that filtered in through the tree branches. Above him loomed a man with a cheerful smile on his face and a head of curly, messy brown hair. He wore black jeans, a white T-shirt featuring a band whose members were probably long dead by now, and fingerless motorcycle gloves. Yoongi frowned confusedly. What was going on? Was he getting attacked? Why was the man smiling?

"Seokjin was in hysterics over you."

And then the realization struck Yoongi; it was the same man from Seokjin's house, the one called Hoseok.

Yoongi made a face and rubbed his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light.

"Why?"

Hoseok scoffed.

"Why?" He crouched down so that they were level. "Because he was worried for your safety, silly."

Yoongi was beyond overwhelmed. This was so confusing.

"What... Why...? Why are you here?"

"He's got us all looking for you. And it looks like I found you. You and Toast." He nodded to the kitten, who was repositioning itself. Seokjin must have described him and the cat to this strange man. "Care to come back?" He asked, standing again, and offering Yoongi his hand. "Seems Seokjin wants you to have a home. I don't think it's such a bad idea, either."

When he saw that Yoongi was naturally reluctant, he offered the boy another blinding smile.

"If you don't like it, you can leave. But god, kid, you look seconds away from death." Yoongi glared at the word 'kid', as he was certain he must be older than this stranger, but he did look rather young and small, growth stunted from years of malnutrition, so he let it slide. Yoongi took Hoseok's hand and was pulled to his feet.

Halfway through the trip back to the house that he had left, Yoongi was feeling faint again. This was fairly alarming to him because they had hardly gone far at all, and he cursed himself for letting his health fall into shambles this way.

Hoseok ended up giving him a piggyback ride because Yoongi was too depleted to continue.

Yoongi rested his head against Hoseok's shoulder and sighed heavily. Why in god's name did these people care in the slightest what became of him? And why did they always end up carrying him? Yoongi wished he was taller and stronger—his brother had always said that Yoongi looked more like a grumpy kitten when he was angry. He wished he wasn't so goddamn weak.

Yoongi was fast asleep when the sight of the house emerged past the trees. Hoseok shushed Seokjin the moment he came in sight, and the elder sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The younger followed him into the house and was careful not to wake Yoongi as Seokjin helped him lower the boy onto one of the beds. Seokjin frowned when he noticed the blood that had seeped down Yoongi's neck, immediately turning to glare at Hoseok in confusion. The younger shook his head, equally confused, and held his hands up to silently proclaim, "I didn't do it."

Seokjin pursed his lips and decided, as he tugged up the blankets around Yoongi, that he would take care of it when the boy woke up.

"C'mon, Yoongi." A familiar voice called, and Yoongi turned to look.

Yoongi was standing on a red metal bridge devoid of cars, high above the inky, black water. The sky was just as dark, yet hardly any stars could be seen. A cool wind pressed his loose clothes against his body, his flannel fluttering in the gust, and his hair was caught in the breeze, making it a wavy blond mess around his face. The cold nipped at his nose and cheeks, and his parted lips let out little puffs that were visible in the chilly air.