Perf! But mine sadly won;t be as long. =\ Sorry.
"Trust me, you don't want to see me dance!" The hand holding his beer waved dismissively, and Wes couldn't help but laugh. Even drunk, without conscience or shame, he knew that it was best he didn't try to cut a rug, so to speak. The party would have enough casualties without his limbs flailing uncontrollably in every direction. He was saving Ariel's life, really, by being withholding as far as his dancing inability went.
"I like yours, though." He paused, then decided to clarify, juuuuuust in case he wasn't being followed. "Your dancing. You've got moves. I saw you on stage." He took another sip of his beer. He couldn't even taste it anymore. He wondered if that was his cue to ask Aaron to make him something else, but got distracted by the curly piece of hair falling into Ariel's face with every gentle movement. He reached forward and brushed it off the other boy's forehead with a delicate hand.
"Your band is good." His hand fell back down, and proceeded to shove itself into Wes' pocket. He made no mention of what he'd just done. He wasn't even really aware he'd done anything that might have been considered an invasion of personal space.