jungkook has no idea what's going to come next. he knows that it won't be bad, because he knows yoongi. but more than that, yoongi knows him. yoongi knows exactly what it is that he likes, how he sees himself, how he wishes the rest of the world could see him more often than not - most days, jungkook thinks that yoongi knows, that he understands all of that much better than jungkook does himself. and yoongi has never been anything short of completely and entirely supportive, encouraging, always wanting jungkook to do anything and everything that he can to make all of those things a reality. jungkook knows this. but he still can't help the anxious beat of his heart, how it's going a little too fast, how the flush is stubborn on his cheeks, right alongside the urge to fidget, to look away, to curl into himself or otherwise hide because he isn't sure how else to handle it.

but he doesn't have to worry about it for too long. it's hard to say what gets to him first, if it's the way that yoongi looks at him or the way his touches slide down to his hips or the sound of his voice. either way, it hits him hard, just the same way that it always does. being praised, hearing that yoongi is proud of him - it never, ever fails to make that happiness bloom rapidly inside of him, filling up his chest, pulling some of that pride into himself as well.

his expression turns softer, then. flush still in place, but jungkook can't help it. just like he can't help the way that he smiles or presses closer again on instinct, like he's trying to curl himself up in yoongi and hide, or how he can't help the small, soft, shy giggle that slips through.