What did he need? Dean didn't know how to verbalize it. The relief that Don Juan seemed to understand his panic was enough to placate him for a moment; it gave him a moment to breathe and push the unease down. "Cut back," he wasn't sure Don Juan could quit; it didn't take an idiot to know those kinds of things were addictive; but Dean was addicted to the man before him and he knew he couldn't stand it if something was to happen. "Do it here, so I can keep an eye on you, I don't care, but I can't worry about you every time you're not here, it hurts." His tone was still a little frantic, but he was steadier than he had been a moment ago. "Please."" He'd pulled Dempsey against him, arms wrapped tight, as if he was going to disappear right now because of it.