Jungkook wrinkles his nose, both disappointed and impressed that Jimin doesn't seem to miss a beat, doesn't stagger once as he gets to his feet. Grace is the only word that's fitting of Jimin — he never seems to have trouble finding his feet, or finding the path of least resistance as he moves, every part of him weaving into the environment. It's beautiful in a way that Jungkook can so easily admire. Even if he feels like Jimin never sees it in himself.

For his part, Jungkook doesn't even bother trying to play the coordinated role. When he notices Jimin mimicking his movements, he starts to stride around the room, exaggerated steps that mimic a drunk salaryman. He gets it, now — why so many people like to relieve their stress in this way.

"What? Are you saying I don't have any swag?" Jungkook asks, briefly stopping before back up into Jimin, bumping into him with his butt.

To call it even an attempt at twerking was probably too generous.