Dancing

“Okay, okay. Wait.” Already lightly swaying, Vincent stepped back and took a deep breath. “We g'nna try somethin' else… here.”

Leo watched him struggling to shrug off his t-shirt with growing amusement. “Waddaya doin'?”

When Vincent finally got out of the troublesome garment, he held it towards him. “You take mine, I take yours. C'mon!”

“An' what's that gonna solve?” Leo laughed, but took his shirt off as well. It would be rude to leave Vincent standing there without one.

“Ok… so now, I can— no... you can dance.” Vincent l stopped and blinked, thinking about his sentence for a second, before finally nodding with confidence. “An' I can too.”

“B'cause I'm wearin' your shirt?” Frowning, Leo put on the offered clothing. It smelled like Vincent and he took a deep breath before pulling it over his head. His face grew a degree hotter upon realising how damn obvious the gesture must have looked for Vincent.

Thankfully though, the other man was occupied with putting his own shirt on. He'd usually wear a size bigger than Leo and the fabric was clinging to his body in all the right ways. Leo tried not to stare.

“Yeah.” Vincent gave him a big grin and positioned his hands like before. “C'mere. Let's try it out. Just r'member to concentrate on the beat an' lemme do the rest. Don' think, just feel.”

Okay. This is older and from a piece that still needs to be written fully, but that's not gonna happen in a while, so... They are drunk and dancing and in love, but idiots.