Yoongi smiles, quick and soft, eyes opening again to look into Jungkook's. He has the prettiest eyes, such a beautiful shade of brown, his lashes so long. It is, perhaps, more eager than he should let himself be, hearing those words, but he can't help it, too unguarded right now to control himself as well as he should. Right now, being held like this, everything feels good and right for a change, like he's safe — dangerously enough, like he's wanted.

When he drinks, a lot of the time, he gets more cheerful, but tonight, everything has him quietly content, if a little wistful. It's so easy to imagine how different things could be if they were like this, how happy they could be together if there were even the smallest chance Jungkook could like him, too. Could love him. He can't be selfish, though. This is too nice to ruin with wishing for more, even as he does exactly that, thinking about pressing kisses to Jungkook's cheek, to his forehead, his jaw, or moving his hand lower to rest at his hip instead of draping over his back. He doesn't dare move at all.

"Okay, yes," he says with the slightest of nods. "A date." He closes his eyes again, letting himself take it all in, the soft weight of arms around him, the warmth of Jungkook's body where they press together, not quite close enough, details to remember for later when he's trying to imagine good things to help himself sleep, to shut out the bad thoughts and the voices. "I like this."