The arm around Jay's shoulders is both welcome and alarming. Welcome, because he very much likes Eliot already and he's gratified that he's liked in turn. Alarming, because they're in public and he's pretty sure this place is far too above-ground and open far too early to be a molly bar. Jay gives Eliot a scared glance, leans his head closer.

"Darling," he whispers, his voice a touch hoarse with nerves and the beginnings of terror. "Ah. Is it wise to be ... quite so open? Here?"

Not that Jay doesn't broadcast to all and sundry exactly what he is, of course, but with one's presentation there is still the chance of plausible deniability. With Eliot's arm around him, not so much.

He barely hears what Iman is saying. However, to Eliot's suggestions of culture dates and Iman's backing of such an idea, he says, "well, ah, that does sound good, darlings--"