Enjoy this silliness.
They're drunk, that is much is obvious. Jim isn't even sure he remembers how he'd gotten that way because he was sure that there'd only been two drinks handed to him since they'd arrived at the bar but he's not really worried about it because it's a good kind of drunk. He feels like he's floating and his head isn't hurting even a little bit even though it's karaoke night. The place isn't that crowded but there's never been a pause in the steady stream of tone-death renditions of classics (or otherwise) despite. Bones is actually enjoying that there's karaoke and Jim knows that they both must have had the same two drinks.
When Bones stumbles on stage, though, Jim almost falls out of his chair. McCoy is too tall for the makeshift stage because he has to duck out of the way of one of the low hanging lights but still manages to hit his head on it anyway. Someone laughs and McCoy laughs back, picking up the mike and squinting out into the crowd.
"I've never sang karaoke before," Bones says as a warning, earning himself a few howling catcalls of encouragement from a gaggle of woman. McCoy sends them a charming smile, Jim is still having a hard time staying upright on his stool from all this shock. "But I wanted to dedicate a song, to my best, best, best, ibest/i friend." He raises one crooked finger in points dead at Jim. "An' I figure he's worth the embarrassment."
Awkwardly Bones shuffles over to the karaoke machine, makes whatever selection he seems to think is fitting to dedicate to Jim and then comes back to stand center stage. He bites his lip and looks embarrassed as the guitar riffs start up, ducking his head slightly before raising the microphone to his lips. Jim did slip off his stool then and barely managing to land on his feet, mouth agape.
"On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round," Bones sings barely managing to make his first cue but seems to pick up the beat after that, boot tapping against the floor. "And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found." Despite his initial slip up, his voice immediately takes on the deep gruff drawl George Thorogood couldn't even make sound as naughty. Jim is jealous if the group of women again because they're allowed to squeal and swoon like, well, girls. "The head nurse spoke up, and she said leave this one alone. She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone."
Something clenches in Jim as McCoy levels him with a stare across the bar, microphone close to his lips as sang, "Bad to the bone," and then it unclenches and sends shudders all through his limbs. The crowd in the bar chants the rest of the chorus with Bones, who is steadily getting more into his performance and starts moving around the stage, teeth flashing in a wide grin.
"I broke a thousand hearts, before I met you," he goes so far as to actually point at one of the woman. "I'll break a thousand more baby, before I am through." He turns around on the short stage (managing to duck under the low light this time) and walks back across the small stage, his eyes on Jim again. "I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone. I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone. Bad to the bone!"
The guitar solo takes over the song and Bones stands in the center of the stage. There are a few people in the crowd going as far as to air guitar the part. Jim doesn't pay them much mind as he weaves his way through the tables up to the stage. McCoy smiles at him and holds out his hand.
"I make a rich woman beg, I'll make a good woman steal," Bones sings as he pulls Jim onto the stage. They stumble into each other, interrupting Bones' throaty rendition as he laughs at their clumsiness. Someone in the crowd whistles. "I'll make an old woman blush, And make a young girl squeal." Neither makes a move to step away.
Jim grabs hold of the bottom of the microphone. "I wanna be yours pretty baby," they sing together, "Yours and yours alone, I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone."
Another guitar solo dominates the song and they laughingly practically fall off stage, relinquishing the rest of the song to be chanted by the crowd. Bones leads Jim by the hand out of the bar.
"Slow down," Jim breathes and he digs his feet into the pavement drawing Bones to a sudden stop. He hooks his fingers in Bones' belt loops and draws him in close. "I think you made one of those women cream themselves."
Bones smirks and drawls, "every woman I meet? They all stay satisfied." The only appropriate response to this Jim can find, through his drunk horny haze, is to kiss the smirk right off Bones' face.