Silver's carefully moved himself so his bare back is against the wall, both of his legs on the mattress, languid, still breathing somewhat heavily, taking the bottle from the other as he rises.

The flustered sort. Of course. Silver's lips curl into a half-smile, watching the other and tilting his head to the side. He knows it's enlightening--he knows that even if Benedict is for some reason only curious about other men, that he'll remember it for a while.

That's all Silver really needs. As much as he'd love for the other to stay. "There's a girl next door," he says after a moment. "Knock on her door. She'll escort you out."

...But also, he could be a bit of a prat, first.