Jungkook shifts in his lap, easily getting more comfortable, gaze raised to the ceiling, but occasionally lowering to meet Jimin's. He looks warm and sweet and happy, looks just exactly how he deserves to be: carefree and comfortable. Jimin can't help but wish he could give this feeling to Kookie all the time, give it to all of them.

He laughs at the sly little compliment, feels something warm under his skin and blossom like a flower. "Are you sober enough to dance?" he asked, his voice teasing. "I'm afraid you might fall over instead."

And, maybe, he's a little afraid that Jungkook could upstage him. Because Jimin isn't really that good. Liking to dance, even loving to dance is not at all the same as being any good at it. He'll never be as good as Hyung or Noona no matter how much he tries.