[Rumlow, a man who grew up rough and clawed his way out of that life, still took the bottle back and cracked the seal with a practiced ease. He was not entirely one for tradition, particularly any idea of high society. It just wasn't his way; it was why he was a soldier, even if he could fake it when he needed to and often did.

It was all part of being a good tactician. He offered the now open bottle back to his companion, waiting to see what the other would do given it was open but still virgin of anyone's lips.]

Well, you haven't told me where you live, and it seems unwise to guess. So, you either tell me, or I dump you off at a hotel to sleep off your intoxication. [He smiled and winked, not at all opposed to a random tryst.] Unless you don't trust me, of course, which I completely understand.