Yoongi can't even begin to stifle his laughter. He can't help it. Jungkook is fucking adorable, cheeks and ears bright red with embarrassment, like Yoongi wasn't just talking about fucking him a second time, like the notion he thinks about sex as much as Yoongi does is anywhere even close to a revelation. It's sweet, both the odd sense of innocence that clings to Jungkook even now, and the reminder that Jungkook thinks of him all the time. Besides, he's cute when he pouts.

Once his laughter subsides, though, he closes the small gap between them, arms slipping around Jungkook's waist as he steps behind him and ducks his head to press a kiss to Jungkook's shoulder. He glances up, smiles at their reflection, his eyes finding Jungkook's. "I daydream about you constantly, too," he says softly. "And I like that I'm all over your notebooks. That you think about me. It's... romantic." He huffs out a small laugh, almost shy. It's sweet. Jungkook is sweet. Yoongi wouldn't say he's been entirely deprived of that, exactly; as rowdy a bunch as they might be, they care intensely about each other, and all six of his friends have their ways of showing how much that's true, each surprisingly sweet in his way. Still, to have it aimed at him so specifically, so intently, is... flattering. Satisfying. Comforting. Nose brushing against Jungkook's neck, he glances back to the mirror, smile widening a little. They look fucking good together, he thinks. He looks good. Happy. He nips at Jungkook's ear, hugging him a little tighter. "So make the fucking grades."