Yoongi's not especially self-conscious about his appearance. At least, he doesn't think of himself as such. He's fairly confident that he's reasonably attractive. Jungkook, however, has a way of making him feel like he must be fucking gorgeous, and it makes Yoongi briefly shy. The soft, pleased smile turns wry in a moment, though, brow arching, and he smacks lightly at Jungkook's stomach. "Okay, well, if cute is the only goal, I guess I do win," he says. "Because yours is not cute." He lets the way his voice lowers fill in the rest. Cute might be a fitting descriptor for his stomach — flat enough, but not exactly fitted out with abs, not quite as defined as Jungkook's. He doesn't really care. He doesn't work out and his boyfriend is stunning; he wins on every front.

"You're cute," he amends after a moment. "Eh, he's still cuter than both of us. Look at his little paws." He curls his fingers, mimicking the otter, his other arm slipping back around Jungkook's waist.