Dean had finally looked at him again, and Don Juan took that as permission to start moving back towards him, slowly and tentatively. He looked so tense and tired— wrung out, like an old rag. Maybe that was what loving Don Juan was like: mopping up messes and only getting worn through for your trouble.

"I'll make it worth your while," he said, reaching for Hudson's hand. "I'll spend my whole life making it up to you."

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