Eliot would contend that if some of the smile left his eyes in that moment, nobody could blame him. But it also wasn't the first time he'd been let down, and so far, it was pretty high up on the scale of polite rejections.

At least the guy had noticed. Sometimes you practically had to resort to sky writing to get a straight guy to give you a straight answer. Funny how that worked.

"Skee Ball," he repeated. Message received. James was still in need of a distraction, so he wasn't jumping ship. They'd just see where things went.

Eliot reached out to take the flask, long enough to take a long pull of his own, then offered it back to James as they approached the row of machines.