For all the social calls he'd been making in Past New Moore (Old Moore?), Dave hadn't yet let anyone touch him, and Bro's solidity seemed to startle him. Or maybe it was his own physical reality, the undeniable shape of his shoulder under Bro's hand, that Dave hadn't been expecting. Or had put out of mind.

He lifted his own hand in response without thinking, hesitated, and then gripped Bro's fingers for a second to reassure--well, at least one of them. His expression flickered again, but the expression wasn't one he'd often worn as a kid. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"Yeah. I'd like that." He let go and rolled the Doritos bag closed, his tone lifting to normal again. "You're paying, though. I sprung for like fifteen kids' ice cream today and my credit cards don't work."