There it is, Jungkook thinks with a sigh. He's always liked this smile of Yoongi's — a quiet, fond look he gets when he lets his guard fully down. It's almost enough to stave off the shame from earlier, and Jungkook shifts his hand until their fingers lace together, using the hold to help Yoongi to his feet. And if his free arm slips around and his hand splays across Yoongi's lower back, well, that's just a way for the both of them to keep each other steady.

It's an excuse to keep Yoongi close as well, his eyes greedily drinking in every strand of hair that skims across Yoongi's forehead, the thin shadow under his eyelids that fades into dark lashes. The small mole next to his nose, close enough that he could lean forward and drop a peck there, if he wanted. (Would it be weird? Maybe it wouldn't be so weird. They've all been affectionate with each other in that way, quick pecks pressed against occasionally unwilling cheeks.)

"Are any of us actually good, other than Hoseokie hyung and Jiminie hyung?" Jungkook laughs, heady with excitement as he starts to whirl the both of them around, following no particular beat or melody. "Jimin told me earlier that I don't have the butt for dancing, so I'm doomed anyway."