Hm. Maybe too comfortable. Not that Doc minds. Too comfortable is better down here than being scared shitless by something that two grown ass men should be able to handle. They can shoulder everything else this town has thrown at them and somehow try to keep a house of people afloat throughout the shitstorms they have been through, but a hole in the floor is too much for them to handle. It's a sorry state of affairs.

"Ain't never met a Marshal with no strings or expectations attached," he muses quietly. He finds Raylan's hand hanging a few inches away from his knee in the dark and drags it down to the top of his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch before nudging it to his hip, following the curve around towards his rump. He wouldn't be sitting around with Raylan talking - that's all they're doing, really - if he was alone in the dark with Raylan in his bed. Although he is mindful of not wanting to upset anything he's got going on with Malcolm. Doc is not enough of a strings or expectations kind of guy to get entangled between two fellows who are all strings and expectations.

"Is it hard enough for you?" he asks with another chuckle that sounds almost ominous, the way it echoes around in the chamber. "If I have to get up I would be giving you a lot more than a feel." Doc lets his head roll to one side, exposing more of the side of his neck to that warmth radiating off Raylan's chest. "Not sure you could afford me, on government wages..."