From his seat across from and yet very close to Rafael, Leo lays a hand on his leg to provide moral support for the first shot. Neither of them are that good at this, which is kind of what makes it fun to drink together. His nose wrinkles a little in empathy, and he's quick to take the bottle.

"We played three rounds of Quidpong, that once." Leo's quick to point out, even though that accomplishment is nothing to be proud of. "It was awful. So. To you." Leo toasts the air and takes a long, determined swallow. Maybe too long. It rushes to his head quickly, after all that exercise and no food. It's nice, kind of. He smiles, and hands the bottle back. "People do this for fun." He jokes. "Your toast."