The glass would be empty quickly enough. Why they'd get dehydrated so easily, he wasn't sure (drinking? dancing? ...er, something else all together?) but Simon knew best about both worlds, so he drank it down without an issue. If Simon had been ordering him around in his life, he hadn't taken any notice, and he didn't even think twice about this one. It wasn't any difference if they were friends, so why worry on something that small?

He shifted, little bit uncertain about how he looked given how very different it was, but if he saw any sort of approval in Simon's eyes on it, he'd be happy enough. His brows shot up at the offer of the leather jacket and secretly a little part of him fluttered (and, even more gratefully, other parts of him stopped being a problem) to pull on the leather, that familiar scent of Simon all around him.

But even that couldn't stop the nervousness that tightened up in his gut when they got on, everything this meant tonight, or how much worse it got when they pulled up and parked at the club. Suddenly he was even more glad for the water because he wasn't sure he'd be able to drink a damn thing with how tight his stomach felt or the butterflies in it.