You don't sleep alone that night. Somewhere in your restless, barely conscious stupor, you remember how the way he held you was just how you thought you had a grip on him. A little desperate, a little unsure, a little excited, just hard enough to stay together, never hard enough to break. You mumble that he reminds you of you, and he laughs into your shoulder.
The next time you dance, you tell him again for good measure. He shoves you lightly, and you lean into his shoulder, a little too tired to keep a surface up. He's warm, he's comfortable, he's just what you needed.
You have no clue how you're gonna fight him.