Jeff lifts his brows, and he smirks teasingly. "That mean you're planning on staying the night?" But hey, don't worry, he punctuates the comment with a laugh, just to show that it's, like, no pressure or anything. Just a joke. The last thing he wants is to come across like a pushy creep.

He's just. Easy. He wants to be easy. No expectations. No nerves.

With a relaxed shrug, he takes his own pull of the tequila and sets the bottle on the floor. Now to crack into the Red Bull as a chaser. "I've got other stuff if you want to try anything." He makes a thoughtful face for a moment. "I think someone even left a bottle of Midori here..."

And-- oh. Tim's going red. That's fucking cute. Jeff tries to bite back an amused smile. "Yeah." Confirmation.

Then.

Oh god. Somehow, that's the best compliment Tim could've given him. Now Jeff can't hold back his stupid smile.

"Yeah?" No, wait, say something else. "I was going for that."

No. That doesn't even make any fucking sense. Jeff looks mildly panicked, then says. "No, wait! Good enough to eat!" He closes his eyes and groans. "Aw, man, it was right there..."