MCCOY, L: I- um. you too-uh Damnit what are you on about?

LOWTHER, G: Nothing, forget it. Great Jimmy, real smooth. let me take your plate.

MCCOY, L: Don't take it like-oh fuck it Stop feelin' sorry for yourself. 'specially over me.

LOWTHER, G: I- what- Bones- what're you?

MCCOY, L: A grumpy bastard by most counts, and you?

LOWTHER, G: An adrenaline junkie with daddy issues but- you smell good.

MCCOY, L: You look good.

LOWTHER, G: Your hands are really strong. Wow.

MCCOY, L: Shut up.

LOWTHER, G: Make me

MCCOY, L: You're a fucking terror...

LOWTHER, G: Christ, Bones. Want you. Want you so bad.

MCCOY, L: Pretty sure. This counts. As permission, kid.

LOWTHER, G: Tell me. Tell me how you want me. Bones.

MCCOY, L: On that bed. Laid out and begging. Gonna hold you down and watch your face as you come.

LOWTHER, G: Oh, god. Yes. Yes, Bones. Fuck me. I'm yours. I'm all yours.

MCCOY, L: Yes, gonna fuck you darlin' You're mine, I've got you.