"They found us," Yoongi says, huffing out a laugh, "and latched on like little puppies. Destructive puppies." Sometimes he wonders what it's like, to have that kind of boisterous energy, as if he isn't perfectly capable of running down the beach, screaming, too. He just doesn't have any particular urge to do so.

Still, for all that he might tease or roll his eyes, he loves them. They're strange kids, but they're his — his brothers, his boyfriend, the only family he's had these last few years or, really, needed. His father might not care about him, but who needs him? If there's one thing he's learned from these boys, it's that family is what you make of it. Blood doesn't mean anything.