Noah lets Freddie draw him in, slipping his free hand up Freddie's bare arm to gently hold onto his shoulder, keeping them close. His hand is small in Freddie's. His body feels different pressed to his, or maybe it's just because Noah hasn't been held like this in such a long time that it feels like a wonder. He rests his cheek against Freddie's chest, tucks his head under Freddie's chin, and smiles to himself as they gently sway.

It's warm. Like how he'd been cold for those seven years and now he's alive again.

"Yeah, well," he finally murmurs. "You want to see my tits, and I want a dance. Seems like a fair trade."