Kavinsky's laugh got all swallowed up in the noisy thud of the music, a throb of its own, his smile incandescent with pleasure as he kept his head tilted back for the touch. He didn't need to look at this man. The heady pulse of pleasure and desire from the whole club had him feeling radiant.

"No, they're just like that," he said, loud enough to carry and still somehow breathless. Like he'd been dancing too long, or something else.