Raising his hands in a pacifying gesture, Doc purses his lips and inclines his head.

"The couch is all yours." Doc might risk a stabbing for tucking him in, making sure he's warm enough to get through the night, but no cuddling or any other funny business. He can promise that much at least. "And we have enough moonshine here to suit any pace of drinking." Try as he and Raylan might to drink their own stash dry.

"Here's to not having regrets, and not staying sober." He raises his own glass to Five and downs it.