"Yeup." He pops the P as he speaks, voice a whiskey warm drawl from behind the bottle. New shirt on, feet bare, he's as comfortable here as he wasn't in the car and truck. You can't live in the south and the heat without air conditioning and a little bourbon. Maybe it isn't so different from the desert. Still it's nice to have somewhere to lounge, somewhere to drink-

And something that reminds him, just a little, of home.

Having Jim here only helps the notion. Jim's always been home for him since his father passed, not that his mind is going in that particularly maudlin direction. Life's good for the moment. His mood is high despite the mishap of this afternoon. Maybe Jim was right- he needed to relax. Time away from any kind of work from anything that would remind them of work. Just small towns and the open road, and his best friend. That is kinda naked.

Not that unfamiliar, honestly. "Yours is on your bed."