Just the word 'babe,' being used in the reassuring sentence boosts Cameron's self-esteem millions, and he's still involuntarily glancing down to this fucking /tail/ that he's noticed every five seconds because it's hard not to, really. He thinks that Noah's being sweet - but when isn't Noah being sweet to him? - but still continues to stutter and stumble with his words because he's not good at using them at all, especially not when a pretty-much-naked Noah is standing in front of him with ears and whiskers and complimenting him. Cam's struggling to see how anyone could be considered mentally stable when in the situation that he is. "You're acting like you don't look like a fucking supermodel, y'know." He replies, eyes fixing to Noah's and deciding to stay there and /absolutely not glance down for a second or five./ "Apparently so, I won't be sober by the end of this, I can assure you." Cameron can barely finish his sentence before he inhales sharply because Noah is officially introducing the tail to conversation. "Fuck, fuck, very strong drink..." The younger man babbles to himself, grabbing onto Noah's hand for dear life - his eyes are now fixated on alcohol and Cam decides that he isn't going to survive the night without any.
Noah is used to manipulating clients, using their lust for him in a way he's secure he can and always keeping the upper hand in situations. With Cameron, that really doesn't seem to be an option. The curly haired lad has a way of making Noah feel both exposed and insecure, whilst also feeling more special and cared for than any paying customer could even attempt to manage. He supposes --as he ponders it absent-mindedly in the early hours of the morning when he can't sleep and is unable to shake thoughts of Cameron from his sleep-addled mind-- that this is probably due to the fact Cameron isn't responding to the front Noah puts up, the façade he's spent years carefully mastering and wearing around him like an armour. When Cameron says sweet things about him, or tells him he loves him, it's with full knowledge of who Noah really is, the mess he is inside and all of his flaws. It eliminates Noah's chances of feeling in control, and that's both an absolutely terrifying concept as well as something he wouldn't change for the world. It's refreshing, and it's testing every boundary Noah has ever set in place. It's for this very reason that Noah doesn't have a witty comeback for the supermodel comment, no sassy retort to flourish with a smirk. Instead he coughs at the way his lungs seem to contract, the air being knocked out of him and leaving him red cheeked and flustered for a measurable length of time. He's thankful that his back is turned, praying that the way his face is hidden will act as a cover up for his embarrassing reaction. The feel of Cameron's hand slipping into this own makes him straighten up, suddenly stood as though he has a metal rod up his arse with the way all his muscles are clenching. He squeezes Cameron's hand tightly, taking a steadying breath. "Drink, yes. Definitely, drink. Now," he doesn't wait for a reply, already dragging his not-boyfriend toward the bar on unsteady feet.
