He'd closed his eyes, lulled into the exhaustion of a night well-spent. Oblivious to whatever it was Dempsey was doing with the cigarettes, Dean got more comfortable on the bed, shifting up toward the pillows and tucking one arm beneath his head. His limbs were heavy and loose at the same time, though he managed to at least pull the sheet across his waist to ward off the missing warmth against his body.

Except that came too and he instinctively wrapped the other arm around Dempsey's waist, pulling him back in. He reluctantly peeked over, meeting Dempsey's gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. All he could mutter was an, "Mmm?" Despite his earlier conviction of wanting to finish the conversation, he had put it out of his mind in the interim. It could be a tomorrow problem, or maybe it could wait until they were both ready to have the conversation seriously. His was too tired and too content at the moment for much else.