Noah discards his shoes by the door before heading for the living room, the flow of the dress making it look like he's floating almost and, smirking, Freddie follows, his own footsteps silent on the flooring.
"Who's to say I haven't?" he argues as he steps closer. There's something almost nervous in the way Noah holds himself, something in the twitch of a smile on his face. Freddie nearly wants to draw attention to it, nearly wants to point out that this whole thing is Noah's idea. Except he already knows where that might lead and, despite the warning bells going off at the back of his mind, Freddie's intent on seeing where this might lead.
Even if there's every chance that it will lead absolutely nowhere.
"Is there a rule stating one must be wearing a suit to dance?" he asks with a tip of his head as he reaches out to graze his fingertips lightly along the fabric of Noah's dress.
no subject
"Who's to say I haven't?" he argues as he steps closer. There's something almost nervous in the way Noah holds himself, something in the twitch of a smile on his face. Freddie nearly wants to draw attention to it, nearly wants to point out that this whole thing is Noah's idea. Except he already knows where that might lead and, despite the warning bells going off at the back of his mind, Freddie's intent on seeing where this might lead.
Even if there's every chance that it will lead absolutely nowhere.
"Is there a rule stating one must be wearing a suit to dance?" he asks with a tip of his head as he reaches out to graze his fingertips lightly along the fabric of Noah's dress.