[ It was dangerous. The way his heart suddenly started to race with the beat - the way he could feel the heat of his skin under his chin - his pulse rising. The way their hips roll into each other - too close, too long, too hot - searingly hot, like he should pull away. But neither of them were unwilling to give themselves any slack - his grip on her waist only tightening, by reflex, as they dance, and her arm over his shoulder clearly not letting him pull too far away in turn. ]

Suppose you wouldn't have any opportunities to do this kind of thing.

[ He can't claim it's just instinct and reflex now - he presses himself, intentionally, against her as she rolls against him, the two closest at the hips. One hand squeezing on her waist while the other holds her hand. The world feels less real, his vision seems to darken at the edges - illuminated only by the flash of lights. ]

Just let yourself relax. [ A gentle, sort of teasing chide. ] If you don't think too hard about it, your body will pick up the slack.