Dylan did not know how to dance, he had never done it successfully in his entire life but, for Dave and only Dave, he made an effort. The bass pounded at his head and his heart and he did his best to move along with it, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being pressed close to Dave. He felt someone snatch one of the cigarettes he had out of his pocket, but he didn't care, it was all too nice. The music threatened him, just waiting to burst in if the earplugs suddenly defied the laws of nature and disappeared, and with it the jungle lurked, but Dylan didn't care, he was in love.
With some effort, he actually managed to move to the rhythm of the music he couldn't hear, only felt. His hands settled on Dave's shoulders as they danced, really danced. Together. For a while, at least, soon the heavy heat of the room had soaked them both through and Dylan was turning, sliding Dave's hands down to his hips and pushing lewdly back against the older man's body.