Despite the agreement, Dean wasn't sure Dempsey was alright and Dean needed him to be. It didn't have to be like this, it could go back to their normal, more casual, less intense. Had he made his point finally? Despite the arousal swimming in his veins, Dean had complete control of turning it off at any moment and he thought they might be there.

The sigh was inaudible. Against his better judgement, he did care about the man standing naked and blindfolded in front of him. That hadn't changed, no matter how much he'd tried to pretend otherwise, had tried to talk himself out of it or shove it down and not think about it. Dean wrapped his arms around Dempsey's waist, pulling him back again. "You don't sound sure," he rested his chin on Dempsey's shoulder. "Remember what I said about stopping. This is about your limits, not mine." That was the point; it was why the one surrendering control needed to have the clarity to decide those limits, in the moment, based on what was or was not working. "Do you see why I keep these rules now?" The tone of his voice was gentler than it had been all evening, without an ounce of disappointment or admonishment in it.

Dean was a man of his word, he would stop, pause, wait, whatever was asked of him, no questions, no hesitations.