Now that the dance had been accepted, Oliver felt no such qualms about moving in and lessening the distance between them until it was reduced to centimetres. If that.
His fingers did tighten slightly against the skin of Harry's stomach when their bodies moved together to the thrumming beat surrounding them and he felt his own breath hitch in his throat. It wasn't the exertion of the dance playing havoc with his breathing, though, it was the man in his arms. He'd have to think about that again, and the why's behind it.
"Hard to believe a rocker such as yourself isn't already on the taken table," he paused and chuckled, knowing Harry could feel the laughter reverberate against his back, "or am I seconds away from being pounded in the face for stealing a dance?"