Dean was too agitated for the cigarette in his hand now and he moved to snuff it out in the nearest ashtray. "That's bullshit," they'd had a conversation; Dean did not in fact take him to bed if he was beyond buzzed; two hits of whatever it was would not leave him with red eyes and a combative nature, either.

"And you don't have to understand them, you just have to fucking respect them, but you don't, and you obviously don't respect me if you cannot just follow one simple boundary." One request, one simple thing that he asked for, especially when they were going to do what they'd planned tonight. Dean had obeyed every single thing that had been laid out before him, in and out of the bedroom. It felt like a one-way street sometimes and he was growing tired of it.