Dean had flopped onto the edge of his bed sort of haphazardly, watching Dempsey try to get his shit together. It was a good indication he'd made the right choice if putting on shoes was too hard. Still, he didn't like the feeling sitting in his chest as Dempsey left as quickly as he'd come. This was exactly why he didn't get entangled like this. Getting attached always led to situations like this. He wouldn't admit to his fondness for Dempsey aloud to anyone, but had thought that the sentiment was mutual, if unspoken.

Fuck, he hated to be wrong.

Falling all of the way back onto the bed, Dean hauled himself up to the pillows, letting out a string of curses in French under his breath and reaching for his wand on the nightstand to extinguish the lamps. Maybe he should have taken something to knock him out; something told him he wasn't going to be getting a good night's sleep after all. Never mind that he hadn't noticed the forgotten coat. That could haunt him tomorrow, just when he'd thought he'd talked himself into being over the whole thing.