It was a club. There were a ridiculous amount of beautiful people on that club floor, all dressed to attract the eye. Peter, who had fairly none of that going for him, was a hidden figure as he watched from an upper deck, not even a drink in hand as he tried to figure out Simon through being where he had been.

Judas' pale brows shot up at Simon's forwardness, their bodies shifting in time to the music but more to the pressure Simon had put between them. He felt someone just behind him, but his world had briefly narrowed down to the Zealot. Simon would always have that sort of effect on people. One arm came up, laying over Simon's shoulder. He had the height on the other, at least. "Just like that?" he asked back, the smirk on his lips teasing. It'd been a long time, sure, but some things came back easily. He was a man free to do as he wished (minus what the Romans were pulling on them anymore) and tonight he gave zero fucks.

He gave a slow grind back, slowing Simon down. "Just how easy do you think I am?"