"You want me to pick up dinner?" Ganymede asked instead, a soft and crooked smile playing around his mouth. He'd let the conversation lie there for a while, though he wanted so badly to reassure Raylan--he didn't know Arlo, and from the hints he'd gotten didn't particularly want to go searching for him, either--but it was clear whatever gulf divided him and his father, it would never be enough.

"Food and you sounds like a good combination right now." He'd never turn down just curling up with Raylan, warm in a bed or on a couch somewhere with those long, lanky limbs wrapped around him.