The defiant glint in Dempsey's eye was the challenge Dean was looking for. He thought he could stubborn his way into getting what he wanted and that was not how this worked. Dean had mastered stubborn a long time ago, had learned the art of teasing it out of people just as well. Still, there was a little bit of compliance, the clothes came off in quick succession, Dean not phased as Dempsey approached.

Instead he stuffed his hands into his pockets, subtly adjusting his pants against the growing arousal. He quirked an eyebrow at Dempsey then, eye level and close again. It was hard to ignore the heat rolling off his body, or the hard planes that Dean was intimately familiar with, had dreamt about in exquisite detail over the months without. Casually he looked down to where Dempsey had chosen to skip a step, eyes taking in the other man's form with an appreciative once-over. Dean had no qualms about letting Dempsey know just how much he was looking forward to this, but not without some build up.

His intensity may have come across as angry, but it was far from that. Frustrated sure, in more ways than one, but he didn't think he was wrong for what he'd done. He was sorry for everything that had happened, and maybe he should have just explained himself in the moment, but Dempsey was not without his fault in this either.

Now wasn't the time though, right now the battle was too intense, too even and they needed to get this out of the way. He carefully removed one hand from his pockets, very careful, to slowly and deliberately brush it against the front of Dempsey's trousers. "Did I stutter?"