[Tate doesn't know what to do when Michael chokes, lips parting for a few seconds when he notices and he does lift his hand to offer to take the bottle back but is waved away. He snorts lightly, less amused and more just - doing it to lessen the awkward tension of the moment. From his experience with him so far, Tate's noticed the kid himself is just... awkward. He hasn't the faintest idea why, and perhaps it's better like this.]

My bad, I should've warned you it's that artisan shit. My - roommate bought it.

[Tate takes another swig, looking over what Michael's doing with the knowledge he should be observing it to know how to do it himself. He looks back down to his beer bottle, running his thumb over the label before he tries to think of something else to say. Then he just looks back up to the room, casting a glance back to his bedroom.]

I'll go grab the snake. She's been chillin' by the bedside.