He had his hands resting on Dylan with all the affection one would place on a bridge control panel. That is until Dylan grabbed his waist, and he squirmed a little under Dylan's grip.

Cleared his throat, and pretended that his color hadn't flushed a shade towards crimson.

"One two three-" he started out, before taking his step, trying not to plant his foot on Dylan's because this felt very much like the opposite of what he was used to.