Sal's expression is, honestly, a bit unexpected, though Noah supposes if he'd thought even a little bit about it it wouldn't have been. But, whatever, it makes him laugh. He's already starting to pull Sal closer to the bar so he can order another drink, lacing their fingers as they go.

"Calm down, it's just holding hands. It'd be annoying to hold your wrist." He glances back over his shoulder. "My shields can chop shit in half - I stop me from getting drunk. But, with you, I can safely get to the point of being unable to concentrate, and then I won't be able to make them whether or not we're holding hands. You want something to drink?"