Yoongi exhales heavily at that, swallows hard, nods. It's a disappointment and a relief all at once. As desperately as he wants to stay like this, wants to get closer still, hanging onto Jungkook's words, it's not safe. Another moment and he would have said it back and meant it too much, and he doesn't know if he could have safely said how much he likes Jungkook without it being obvious that he doesn't just mean as a friend.

Instead, he gets this, his stomach twisting with regret as Jungkook's hand moves away, the bright music suddenly more noticeable again, too fast for what they've been doing. He doesn't dare think that means anything, though Jungkook has been just as absorbed in the dance as he has. They're just drunk and he's stupid, that's all, and it's some kind of miracle their friends haven't noticed or commented. He couldn't bear to be teased about this; Taehyung at the least would have gotten too close to the truth.

Fingers brushing against Jungkook's neck one more time, because he can't quite help himself, he steps slowly back. "Then we'd better sit," he says. "I think I am, too. We should — we should sit." Just because they've stopped dancing doesn't mean they can't still be close, he tells himself. He shouldn't hope for that, but the possibility of it feels like the only thing that keeps him moving as he reaches for Jungkook's hand to lead him to the couch.