Cyril's eyes shone as Cecil took his hand, slotting between Cecil's fingers easily with his own as he pulled the other man to his feet. Baby. He liked that, really, he liked it too much. Made him grin something foolish, all soft inside. "Hope you're not too tipsy to walk a straight line," he chuckled, swinging their hands lightly between them as he lead the way towards the door. "Wouldn't want to get stopped for public indecency."
His joke trailed off as that same feeling from before rushed through him. That anxious pulling on his skin, as if every inch of it were crawling. He froze and stumbled for a brief moment, looking around, his eyes falling on an almost ghastly pale man who had begun to fall asleep where he sat. He stared for a moment longer, racking his brain over the familiarity, the deja vu even, that resided there. And then, he hurriedly tucked it away, not wanting to focus on such things.
He grasped Cecil's hand more tightly and smiled at him, continuing towards the door. "Sorry--run in the carpet," he lied gently, a white lie. There was no need to bring it up--and besides, Cyril was quite inclined to forget about it, and simply enjoy the evening with the other man. "You should call me 'baby' more often. Better than 'pet,'" he murmured, grinning with a mischief as he tugged Cecil out the door with a wink. "But maybe 'pet' is alright, too, when it's you."