Klaus could have been talking about dairy cows for all Raylan's expression told, eyebrows lifting a fraction, hazel eyes pointedly, silently taking in the conversation. There had been a metric ton of innuations about Raylan's sexuality and what he got up to, but those kind of secrets, no matter how unselacious they were, weren't appropriate for the dinner table.

Sorry Klaus.

"Can't imagine it'd be easy for someone who has to sleep in those to associate them with a good time. Maybe if we had silk or somethin' but leather bites." No, he's not as vanilla as he looks.

"But BDSM goes better with after dinner coffee. You ever a boy scout?" Seemed like an arbitrary question maybe, but it all came back to knots. "Or are you more used to gettin' tied down for seances or somethin'." A subtle redirection but one put out there, nonetheless. Malcolm looked like he was going to swallow his tongue; Raylan wanted to help.