"Home made pasta with your choice of sauces," he nods at the stove. Three pots of simmering sauce, each one rich and fragrant. Tomato, heavy cream and a lighter herb-scented blend. "Figured you could take your pick." And he kind of didn't know which Len would like better so hey, better to cover your bases, right?

Dinner was good. Great, even. They talked and he even wheedled a couple of good stories out of Len as he finished his third helping of pasta. While Barry didn't speed through making dinner, he has absolutely no hesitation to speed through dishes to get it over with.

A content smile on his face, Barry takes their wine into his somewhat small living room before taking Len's hand and tugging him closer to the couch. "So. You said you don't dance, even though I know you've got some killer moves. So if you're not gonna dance with me," his grin turns mischievous as he delivers a push firm but gentle enough to get Len to drop onto the couch.

"I guess I'll just have to do all the dancing."