Dempsey wasn't fleeing and Dean thought that might be a good sign. It gave him a chance to try at least. "Nothing you weren't comfortable with. I stand by what I said; it's about your limits, not mine." Dean dared to cross the room again and sat down on the edge of of the bed, but with a good gap between them. It felt weird to have that distance between them both physically and metaphorically. "I'm so rigid on consent because a situation like that is about pushing the limits, but only within what somebody can handle."

Dean wasn't sure he'd ever actually had to explain this to anyone who wasn't interested in it, who didn't already have some of the groundwork and understanding of a situation like that. "It's an exchange of power, I take control and the need to make decisions or worry about what comes next or what to do is surrendered. It's more an act of intimate trust than anything else." Those were the more general guidelines. Dean rather thought Dempsey wanted specifics.

"I would have teased and tempted with everything I knew worked, edged you to the point of being overwhelmed." He'd almost had Dempsey there once or twice, before things had derailed. "And then, I would have given us what we both wanted. It's not just about what I want or what you want, it's supposed to be a mutual experience of satisfaction." Dean hoped he was making sense. "And then I would have cleaned us both up, poured us a drink and held you until you fell asleep." After care was critical. An experience like that could be exhausting, physically and mentally. "But that doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for a lot of people, and I don't think any less of you for it. You asked me to make you understand and I failed to do that in a way where you felt safe and cared for." That was the crutch of it really. Dean felt oddly exposed here now, like he was baring more than just his body and he just hoped it worked otherwise he would feel like a real fool.