He's not going to argue the point, as it's more a feeling than an actual concern. Irrational and inexplainable. Something about his self-worth being tied up in a magic rock that controlled temperatures.

"So you're trying to get drunk." he folds his arms and watches, leaning against the wall to observe. "I'll make sure you don't faceplant or wake up on the front lawn with your pants on inside out."

Both definitely things he's done while drunk.