It's a pretty good answer; Hellboy wishes he'd thought of it. He keeps his eyes on the other man, the steady beat of his evening at the club still washing against his internal shores. He doesn't quite feel buzzed, just relaxed. Probably more relaxed than he should be, but he'll take it over feeling crowded and confused.

Jacob seems to be thinking along the same lines. Hellboy cracks a bit of a grin at the sight of that hidden flask and pulls himself up a little bit so he can reach out and accept it. It's darker and a softer burn than the tequila he's been drinking, but it pools in his belly and chest just the same. He wonders idly if he should be worried at how easy it is for him to get drunk here.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, he offers the flask back again.

"So how come the window?" He indicates the feature in question with a nod of his head. "Got something against doors?"