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Summary
"Do you want to dance with me?” Barry spoke into his ear, low and almost husky.
Len considered it for a moment before smirking and nodding. Already blaming it on the alcohol. So they danced. The music changed to a song he recognized. Don't stop the music. He didn't know the artist. After all he didn't listen to nightclub music that much. But Barry seemed to know, the way he was singing along. Of course Len couldn't hear him sing, but he noticed his mouth moving in time to the lyrics. Len couldn't help but watch the way Barry gracefully moved his body, like he was made for dancing.