"Me?" Drake grins, obligingly running his fingers through Jesus' hair again as he leans closer. This isn't the sort of thing you yell over the music. "Extremely. It'd be you who'd have to act like nothing's happening... say you put your coat back on and turned around in my lap, keep your hands where everybody can see. Can you keep 'em from wondering where mine are? What I'm doing to you under all the leather?"