[ He inclines his head to her slightly, an old politeness. It feels awkward here, an uncomfortable fit, but she’s sharing her space and her alcohol and that doesn’t mean nothing.

So, he drinks. He stays standing. It’s prison hooch so it goes down about as expected. ]

Don’t choke me. I don’t want to choke you.

[ Pretty standard stuff. Carver pauses, considering. He hasn’t done this sober for a long time. All his encounters here involved drugs. This is a novelty. ]

I’ll go down on you if you want. You can grab my hair. Don’t care if you like it rough or not, but I’m not here for a fight.

[ He sucks on his teeth, watching Harley. Checking her reaction. ]

Probably doesn’t need to be said, but just so we’re all on the same page: no racist shit. Really not in the mood for that.

Your turn. Anything you don’t want?