Jack looked at Demarco with the tiniest of smiles, but then his chiseled stoic features morphed over, suppressing any momentary emotional breach.
"You know, the silent treatment used to be hot. Now it's getting a little old."
"I'm sorry," Jack said, softening. "Just preoccupied... with the case."
Demarco rotated away, simultaneously reaching back and pulling Jack's arm beneath his own, rolling him into a spooning position. He held Jack's hand flat to his stomach.
"That was smooth," Jack said.
"Thank you. But, in truth, it hurts my shoulder to lie facing you."
It was the truth... but Demarco had an ulterior motive, apart from seduction. Perhaps the man-of-mystery would open up more if they weren't facing each other. He laced his fingers with Jack's. Jack responded, rolling into the caress, pulling Demarco tighter to him.
"This is nice," Jack whispered in his ear.
"Yes, it is."
"I know it's only been a few days, but I feel like we lost time... those months since the first time I saw you."
"Why didn't you say anything... or give me your number?"
"The job. The job always comes first, D. What about you? Why didn't you ask me?"
"Same."
Jack sighed. "Maybe we both need a new line of work."
They were quiet for a moment, reflecting. Demarco finally broke the silence: "OK... that was not the truth on my part."
"How so?"
"I don't let people in easily. You're getting there, pronto, Jack. Alec has too—but we've known each other a while and he's different... more like a sibling. I don't think about him the way I think about you."
"How do you think about me?"
Demarco smiled to himself. "I think you know. It's easier for me to tell you in this position. I'm not distracted by your eyes."
"What's wrong with my eyes?
"Nothing. I'm just not used to people looking at me... the way you do."
"That's not why you didn't give me your number."
"No, Jack. It's not. What you saw—what most people see—is The Demarco Show... witty, cute, fun, sexy, you know. It's great for work, but it's also a crutch. It's all drag, honey. RuPaul was right."
"Sometimes it's like you're speaking a foreign language D. I was with you just then... until the end."
"I'm saying I'm a coward, Jack."
"How so?"
Demarco paused, summoning his inner-interpreter, and then continued. "Drag queens describe their makeup and costumes as a suit-of-armor, a larger than life persona that allows them the freedom to be their true selves."
"Yeah?"
"RuPaul sayseveryoneis born naked, and that the rest is drag."
"Meaning everyone is hiding behind their own persona," Jack said, understanding. "And that we're all afraid without our protective suits."
