Desire chuckles softly, the sound almost an agreement -- Somethin' ain't right, Jack, and that's the truth. Still, there's no way to know that Desire's heard or not, quiet as the words were: All it takes is that slight lean as encouragement, and those fever-warm hands ghost over Jack's back, working at the tension in those shoulders.

The scent of peaches and tobacco and the warmth of the other man might be reassuring in this cold: Something familiar to hang on to, something that isn't leaving poor Jack alone in the dark.
Someone else that knows what Jack's been chasing his whole life.

"Long enough that I hope you know I don't mean you any harm."