Don Juan reached up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, and then the stretch made his upper arm rub against his shirt again. He shifted his weight and rolled his shoulder, trying to shake his sleeve away from his skin without being too obvious about it. He wanted to suggest the weekend, since the original idea had been to do something grand and romantic, but he was also cautious of asking for too much. He still had the sting of being shot down twice, and Dean's agreement here felt fragile and conditional. Might have to just come right out and apologize, he thought... but if he apologized it was like admitting that Dean had been right in his letter, and Don Juan didn't want to do that.

"Do you sail?" he asked hopefully. "I could rent one of the cabins on the Sanditon Terrace. Take the weekend...? Or just the night," he continued hastily, feeling insecure about the proposal when Hudson hadn't agreed within the first half-second of his having made it.

---