Dean worried that it was more than sometimes, but what else could he say about it? He slid his hand down to Dempseys and tangled his fingers through, bringing their joined hands up to press a kiss against the back of Dempsey's gently. He worried that there would be a time when he was away or couldn't get there fast enough and there would be disastrous consequences. How much was too much? Did Dempsey know where the line was? Would he cut back, quit, if Dean asked him to? Was he going to have Dempsey move in? How would he explain that to the staff? He couldn't take Dempsey with him when he traveled for work and that was when it seemed to be the worst. How exactly did he spell out these fears in a way that didn't seem overbearing or needy? He didn't want to be either one of those things, but he couldn't help the cold pit of anxiety that had welled up in his gut.

If he managed to get the courage to bring it up, it wasn't going to be tonight, Dempsey was still too high and Dean was still too discombobulated to form coherent thoughts. He let Dempsey drift off while he stared out the window into the faint moonlight, drowning in the thoughts that were keeping him awake.