"Nate, Steve... I was close," Emerson insisted, waving a hand. "And, goddamn, I don't need to know about the sex you plan on having, for fuck's sake." He paused, considering this for a second. "Okay, so I still don't want to know, but might I suggest that sober sex might surprise you? Who knows, you might even prefer it?"
His own, and last God help them all, cigarette was lit, and he was indulging in it. "I'm pretty sure he'll get what you mean when you say faster and harder. I'm pretty sure he would even if he spoke another language," Emerson remarked.