That might have been the worst part; Dean could very, very clearly imagine what it was that the night could turn into. He wasn't maudlin enough to admit that most of his experiences between the last bedroom encounter with Dempsey paled in comparison, because Dean wasn't one to compare bedmates, but he would be lying if he said he was in a particular mood for something like that tonight.

Still the optimism slipped at the comment about coming over uninvited. Dean had clearly said the invitation last time they'd spoken. Before that it had never been expressly said, but Dean hadn't put a qualifier on when Dempsey was or wasn't allowed to come over. It had ebbed and flowed in such a natural way that Dean had assumed it was implied, nothing needing to be defined, but clearly that wasn't the case. "Is that why you think I said no?" He asked, brows furrowed, curious. This was coming close to uncharted territory. Dean had talked himself out of needing closure on the subject; had convinced himself he was fine without it, but now that he might have an answer right in front of him, he felt that conviction fading.