"No, that would be the end of the world," Yoongi agrees wryly. What he wants is to turn to face Jungkook, to take his face in his hands and kiss him, to make sure he knows he doesn't look even a little bit idiotic. He settles for squeezing Jungkook's hand, leaning close to whisper in his ear again. "And you look beautiful. Always beautiful."

It's a simple word, but it's honest. In Yoongi's eyes, at least, Jungkook is perfect as he is, every sound, every gesture art. He wishes he had the skill to make art of it, to turn those moments to music or any other more permanent form. But perhaps that's part of it, how fleeting those nights are, stunning in their impermanence.

Pulling away to step forward again, he makes their order, sneaking glances at Jungkook. The flush in his cheeks is familiar, sending warmth spreading pleasantly through Yoongi's chest; he always looks so good like this.