It was always a little exasperating when Cyril got it into his head that Cecil was hiding something. Regardless, he decided not to press it--not in public, and not on their day together. He felt warmth chase up his spine as Cecil's arm encircled his waist, and he leaned into the contact more easily than he could've ever imagined.
Easy. It was easy to be around the other man, and that was a feeling that Cyril had never experienced in such a profoundly simple way before. He touched his head to Cecil's cheek as he nearly finished off his drink, then passed it to Cecil to let him finish--he'd seemed to like the taste when he'd sampled it earlier.
"Mm. It is a little noisy," he mused, though a different kind of noisy than what usually plagued him. Here, people at least seemed to be having fun, instead of putting on airs for each other. But even then, the allure of a walk, of more intimate one-on-one conversation, was strong. He grinned and twiddled his finger over one of the pompoms on the sweater one last time, wrinkling his nose in amusement. "Bet you regret wearing the thing now, don't you," he chuckled, and nodded, shifting to stand up from the bar stool and offering his hand. "Let's bounce, shall we?" he tried out the word with a mirthful look in his eyes.