[Fingers curl around his own and rather suddenly, scarred blue cheeks are tinting violet as he's pulled in. If he's being honest with himself, maybe part of him is uncomfortable, but Wyatt makes him feel ... well, normal. He likes it.

And cue that flush darkening a shade when Wyatt encircles his waist, the free arm raising to drape loosely around his dancing partner's shoulders. This isn't anything like ballroom dancing; another thing he seems to be enjoying, taking into account the way he shimmies along with the other male.

He dips his head, lips curling upward, even though he's obviously flustered. Thankfully, Wyatt's making small talk-- a perfect diversion.] Actually, before I moved to America, I hadn't properly celebrated either. My friends were getting me excited to do so, but I— [a pause] Uhm, we never got that chance because I came here.