"You know I didn't mean...I didn't mean as like...I don't want to get into your pants or anything. I promise. I don't swing that way," Tristan stood as Dennis did, concerned that he was quite wobbly on his feet. "I just don't want anything to happen to you on your way home. I don't want you to get home and...wallow. I'd rather- I mean, if you want to talk to me any more-" He didn't know what to say or how to put things into words. His little brother was better at things like this.
He reached over the table and touched the back of Dennis' hand. Though he didn't suppose physical contact was the best thing right now.