The faintest of brushes against his neck sends a rush of warm across his skin, twisting somewhere lower. He lets his eyes flutter to a close, even though the touch is brief enough that by the time he blinks, it's gone — little more than a figment of his imagination. God, he wants, and it has Jungkook easily following Yoongi's lead, desperate not to lose hold. Sitting will make it easier to hide, anyway. No one will question if he sits directly by Yoongi's side, if he gets a little too close. There's the alcohol and drowsiness to blame.

Jungkook turns his hand, not quite linking palm to palm, but threading his fingers clumsily with Yoongi's. "Sit and… drink water, or something," he murmurs absentmindedly, eyes trying to scan the area for any bottles laying around. All he finds is green, which is tempting in its own right — to dip just a little bit deeper and capitalize on the alcohol.

In the end he reaches for neither, flopping back on the couch and grasping Yoongi's hand, waiting until the other boy settles before letting go. A second later, he raises his arm and gently lowers it onto Yoongi's shoulders, pulling his hyung closer.

"I don't think I can handle my alcohol well," he sighs.