McCoy takes the time to slide his fingers through Jim's hair, gently tugging his neck to the side so he can slide his lips in and so that the stubble of his cheek brushes against Jim's. "That doesn't mean that I'm not going to do incredibly filthy things to you on occasion," he points out, voice a low mumble. "Take you apart until you scream. Could be standing up. Could be in a broom closet, could be my hand under a tablecloth while you're surrounded by your goddamn friends, but it's never, not ever, never gonna be a quickie."

He eases back, smiling like he's talking to one of his patients. "Are we clear?"