There was no judgement from the man sitting beside him. Low fruits got him through some lonely nights.

Raylan kept his eyes down on his glass as Jon continued, unable to fully hide the curl of a smile that came with a bobbing lift of his eyebrows before he hid it all behind a sip from his glass. He was happy. They were happy. But Raylan was still mostly in the closet, if such a term even applied to someone of his situation - that was another can of worms altogether.

"The shovel speech?" That got him to look over, face still curled in soft, deflecting amusement. "Is that the one where you tell me if I hurt him, you'll put me six feet under? The companion to the shotgun 'If you get my daughter pregnant' speech?"