"Maybe the next time you get me into a suit, then, we'll do proper dancing. Since reels and whirling around like mad people isn't proper."

Gabriel manages to affect a convincing mimic of the British received accent that Guy and Anthony both have in different measures each time he says 'proper.' He nudges gently against Anthony and sips his drink.

He can't help but look fond when he meets Anthony's gaze again. No, he can't picture him indulging at a ceilidh, not the way Guy might. And Guy might be mocking while he was at it, depending on his mood.

"Christ, I want to kiss you," he laughs, feeling warmth in his face as he looks back down at his drink.