Don Juan beamed, as if simply being recognized was an enormous compliment. He gave up on shaking shoot off his overcoat and simply peeled it off instead, tossing it onto the nearest piece of furniture before waltzing towards Hudson. Well, his intention was to waltz, and he certainly had the confidence of it; he seemed to have left his gracefulness somewhere along the way tonight, and the result was more of a stumble than a swagger. He noticed that Hudson was only half dressed (with no lack of appreciation), and also that he was wearing pajama bottoms (with a faint note of guilt). It hadn't occurred to him that he would have woken Hudson up by bursting into his flat, just as it hadn't occurred to him that the floo might be locked or that Hudson might have been out or might have had company — he had simply had a whim to see Hudson and had followed it through.

"Glad I didn't wake you," he said, with an irrepressible giggle as though the very notion of someone being asleep seemed silly to him. "Don't mind if I keep you up a bit, do you?" He wasn't waiting for an answer, but already stepping out of his shoes; as soon as he kicked them off he fully intended to climb right into Hudson's lap and stop talking about what he wanted to do in favor of doing it.

---