Jacob drains the glass, and gestures for another. He can drink, and he can drink, and he can drink. At some point he'll probably collapse, but not yet.

And not when Arthur mentions Charles.

Jacob can't help the pull of his muscles into a smile, the way his mood lifts even higher as he thinks about Arthur's friend. It might be obvious to those who know about Charles and Jacob, hell it might be obvious to those that don't, but an excuse to talk about Charles is one he'll grab with both hands.

Part of him knows that Arthur doesn't know. He should be subtle. He shouldn't wax poetic about Charles' calm and gentle method of mentoring. He shouldn't sigh dreamily about how Charles offers his asstance at the drop of a hat, how he's always willing to do everything he can for people, without reward and often without thanks.

He has to fight that back, because the whiskey tells him to talk about Charles to anyone willing to listen.

"Yeah. Charles is- Charles helps. But he doesn't know about whiskey. He thinks we're just doing bear. Beer. He thinks we're brewing beers. It's gonna be a surprise."