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Jimin isn't honestly sure where his dad is. It's on a notepad somewhere, a hastily scribbled hotel and address, but he doesn't care enough to go looking. His mom's out, too. She'd texted him earlier in the evening, a quick, I'll be working late. There's sixty thousand won in the desk upstairs for dinner.

But it's not dinner Jimin's interested in.

He's known the location of the liquor cabinet for the past three years. He doesn't always take advantage, tries to pretend to be the good boy he's supposed to be, the one who only sometimes gets in trouble when he's not inside a hospital.

But sometimes...

There's a bottle of opened grapefruit soju that he finishes off first all by himself. His cheeks warm and flushed, he considers the C1 Blue before sending the text, waits a few minutes, then grins when he gets the replies. Minutes later, he's opening it and taking a quick swig, sinking back into his chair as he waits for his friends.

It's always more fun when he's not alone.

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"Stop, stop!" Hoseok cries, though it's with a laugh, his ears going warm with the compliments. "I don't think I can do that, the race, and I'm not, I'm not handsome," he laments, covering his face with one palm.

He's tipsy (more than) and he seems to be happy and cuddly when he's drinking, so he doesn't think about it in a maudlin way, but he can still remember the taunts of his primary school classmates, the ones who compared his face to a horse and made of his teeth, who shoved him and teased him about his gangly limbs. He doesn't look in the mirror in the morning and see someone attractive. He just sees himself, nothing remarkable.

"You're not puny," Hoseok says, looking down at the way Jungkook's hand rests on his leg, his fingers long and graceful and strong. "Or bug-eyed. Your eyes are cute," he insists, blinking so he can look right into Jungkook's face. "You're all cute. Cute eyes and cute little nose and cute smile, with that cute little freckle, riiiight here," he adds, touching the freckle beneath Jungkook's lips with a gentle fingertip. "Cute and handsome and talented, that's Jungkookie."

"No way, you can't deny your way out of this," Jungkook protests. Even though he may be catching up in height to his hyungs, there's so much about attractiveness that comes down to the proportions. Hoseok has some of the best, with his long legs and his broad shoulders, how everything still manages to look so slim. That's the word — slim, not skinny. Jungkook's brow furrows in concentration as he reaches out for Hoseok's face, squishing his cheeks just a little.

"Look, you've got these nice cheekbones here," he explains, patting them with the pads of his thumbs. "They're high, they look so good when you smile, hyung. And these little dimples that show up when you smile too." Jungkook finds them, tapping them successively until he can tease out more of a smile from Hoseok.

He blows up his own cheeks when Hoseok peppers him with compliments, his face growing hot. "Aish, this thing always made me think I didn't wash my face enough when I was a kid," he says, rubbing his hand instinctively against the freckle. "And I'm not the talented one; that's funny coming from you. You dance better than the people I watch on TV."

Hoseok sticks out his lower lip a little when Jungkook squeezes his cheeks, pouting cutely. He feels his face flush a little – more than it already has, warm from the alcohol – when Jungkook's thumbs caress his cheekbones, when his fingertips tap Hoseok's dimples, one, then the other. He can't help the soft giggle that comes then, and he has a very strong urge to kiss the top of Jungkook's head, one he'd indulge if Jungkook wasn't holding his face captive.

"The freckle is adorable," he insists, unable to look away from it now that his attention is on it. "Someone's going to love kissing it someday."

It's a weird little notion in his head, forming in his own brain as he's saying it, like something subconscious decided on it before letting the rest of him know. He doesn't think of Jungkook that way, as someone who will eventually be someone's boyfriend. Or he didn't. Jungkook is the baby of their group, they all coo at him and dote on him and find everything little thing he does adorable or amazing. But just now, for a moment, Hoseok is thinking of Jungkook as a man, someone old enough to date. Which he is, obviously. Hoseok's just never considered it before.

Luckily Jungkook's unending compliments keep him from going too far down the path of what that might mean.

"What kinds of TV are you watching for that to be true?" Hoseok wants to know. He knows he's a good dancer, and this isn't just him being modest. He's good enough, but he's not amazing, nothing to call attention to.

Jungkook blinks, thoughts stuttering to a halt. Kissing it?

It's such an odd thought. Jungkook tries his best to stave off thoughts of that nature most of the time — school doesn't really leave much time for dating, and whatever free time Jungkook has is so easily devoted to his hyungs instead. He doesn't think himself ugly, he doesn't think of the future in terms of a path walked alone. But it's all too abstract yet.

His face flushes, first from surprise, then from the embarrassment of being so inexperienced. He's pretty sure that all of his hyungs must have more experience than he does, especially Taehyung and Namjoon. Maybe even Yoongi, he thinks, stomach twisting.

"Aish, like anyone would," he says, trying to dismiss the line of thought, seizing instead on the topic of dancing. Jungkook scrambles for his phone, squinting to try and input the right terms as he scours through YouTube. "Okay, so maybe it's not TV TV, it's YouTube, but everyone knows the better dancers are on there. You should post your dance covers, hyung! There's this series, Dance War, I think you'd do better than all of them. Really."

Jungkook raises the phone up for Hoseok to watch. "Don't you think? I wonder if they have auditions for stuff like this..."

Hoseok sees the way Jungkook's face goes blank, his eyes going wide in that adorable way they do when he's shocked or surprised. His first instinct is to smile, because Jungkook is so cute. It doesn't really dawn on him why Jungkook might be making that face, not even after Jungkook comments on– Wait, what was he commenting on? Hoseok's brain is too busy thinking about how cute Jungkook is to remember what they were talking about.

"Oh, Dance War!" Hoseok exclaims, because that definitely rings a bell. He leans in close to Jungkook so he can see his phone screen better, watching the four selected dancers start on a cover of some girl group song Hoseok doesn't remember off the top of his head. He gets lost in watching for a minute before he realizes he should probably respond to Jungkook's suggestion.

"I'm definitely not good enough to be on Dance War," he says, but he's smiling softly, not feeling down on himself, just being honest. "But it's so nice of you to think I could be!" He gives Jungkook's thigh an appreciative pat.

"I'm serious," Jungkook whines, all but stamping his feet. On the whole, he certainly doesn't look very serious right now, alcohol causing a slight sway in his step and petulance showing in the form of a rosy flush. But the sentiment is real — Jungkook believes in his powers of observation, if nothing else, and he knows that Hoseok is good.

If only Hoseok could work up more confidence, Jungkook's convinced that all it'll take is for opportunity to strike at the right time. Jungkook sighs, blowing some of his bangs out of the way in the process. He wracks his brain for a plan.

Thoughts are going way too slow right now.

"We should film an audition tape for you," he wheedles. "Or come up with some really cool routine and start posting to Instagram. Hyung, you're so good and it's such a waste if all you do is teach, you know? You're helping other people try and be stars, but you should be the star."

"Oh no, no," Hoseok responds when Jungkook uses the word 'Instagram', sitting up straighter on the couch, his brain sloshing a little in his skull with the motion. "I'm not, Kookie..." He sets down his drink, turning a serious eye on Jungkook.

"It would be so embarrassing if I posted like that," he tries to explain, his intoxicated mind spinning with the comments he would surely receive, the judgment. "I dance because I love it. It's never going to more than that."

He can't really explain, because he doesn't have the right words, because he doesn't like thinking about it let alone trying to say it out loud.

"It's so sweet that you're trying. You're so sweet. Thank you." He reaches out to pat Jungkook softly on the knee.

Jungkook watches, blinking innocently, as his hyung pushes back against his ideas. It's hard not to let the disappointment show on his face, especially when alcohol makes all of the emotions slip that much quicker. They've spoken enough in the past that Jungkook has a sense of where Hoseok's shame might stem from — Jungkook's no stranger to the prejudices of society. But he's always felt of the Internet being a great equalizer. The one place where anonymity can help brush over details that might otherwise be revealed under scrutiny.

To hell with what society thinks. Jungkook knows that his hyung has talent, the way that he moves, fluid and alive. Who wouldn't want to see that?

"People would like it," Jungkook says softly, one last entreaty as he drops a hand on top of Hoseok's, both stacked on his knee. He knows he's a kid to his hyungs. But maybe even a kid can bring insight to the table. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, hyung. I can come watch though, right? Even if you won't post it to Instagram."

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