"Hmm," Jungkook hums, playfully questioning Yoongi's judgment. He still thinks that he's the luckier of both of them — he's never been especially brilliant, never been notably skilled. Only achingly lonely, Jungkook thinks, remembering the early days of high school before he met the rest of the group. Most of his memories of that time are of staring at the pavement, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention — of being shoved or nudged to the side by a careless shoulder, almost worse than any intentional shove. Only after he met the rest of the boys does Jungkook feel like he really came alive.

He's a better person now for having known Yoongi.

"I guess," he allows at the end, because maybe Yoongi's at least a little lucky to have his crush returned, however questionable his taste might be in Jungkook's eyes. Any of the other boys in the group would be more impressive in some way than Jungkook. Hoseok's got his dancing, Jimin's the sweetest. Namjoon's smart, Seokjin's funny, Taehyung is alarmingly handsome.

Jungkook's all clumsy limbs. But he'll work on that.

"I guess you do have an eager and willing boyfriend right next to you, waiting to be fucked," he says with a laugh, breaking the tension of the moment.