It would be, Yoongi feels certain, entirely inappropriate if he were to lean across and kiss Jungkook now. This isn't the time or place for such gestures, even if they're intended to be entirely chaste. He settles for pressing a kiss to his cheek instead as he takes the chopsticks. It's not much, but it's something, a small token of gratitude that comes nowhere near showing how full his heart is. Before they started dating, it's not just that Yoongi thought it would never happen; he'd started to think maybe he would just be alone in general. Too afraid ever to be out, too broken to be wanted. He never imagined this, that the boy he loves with all his heart could want nothing but him. It's almost too perfect, nearly unbearable, as if something so good must also be fragile. Yet it isn't. It's the strongest thing Yoongi knows.

"So polite in front of your father," he teases. "I see how it is." Lifting one of the mandu from the plate, he cradles a hand underneath so it won't drop to the grass if his hand slips, and takes a bite. "Oh, wow." It isn't hot anymore, but it's still fresh, still delicious, and Yoongi's heart aches a little, partly because everything about this visit feels kind of raw, partly because he hasn't had homemade anything in a long time that didn't come from Jin's kitchen or their own fumbling attempts. "That's really good." Faint embarrassment floods him as he thinks to add, this time to the grave, "Thank you for sharing with me."