Dean nearly rolled his eyes, but contained the urge. He wished that Dempsey was in such disarray because they'd had a good time last night, not because he'd had to rescue him from himself. "Yeah, I washed them." They were hanging to dry in the bathroom still. It had been a good use of his pent up energy to do something with his hands and scrubbing the fabric clean had done the trick.

He still hadn't moved from his position against the counter, hating that his first response was to gather Dempsey close and make sure that he really was okay. "Remember much of last night?" Dean rather thought it was emblazoned into his brain and it would be impossible to forget. Still, he knew he had to tread carefully. If the insomnia had done anything for him, it had given him time to think through what he wanted to say, but he wanted to know what Dempsey had to say about the night too.