[Tate flicks his eyes to Derek when he taps his hand against him and then looks down at the pretzel bag, fishing out (1) one single pretzel and flicking it toward Derek's hand. He's smiling, vaguely amused, but again - he's still trying to be happy. His cheek hurts but it's already healing over, waiting for the next time he has to bite down on it to stifle himself.]

I'd rather not get another boner around him for the foreseeable future, so that's okay.

[But - it's hard to not want to double down on his point, so:]

I just - I don't want you to feel like you can't trust me. Because it's a him or me thing. I get - I know what you'd choose, so. I just... don't want you to ever think that'll happen, okay?