This was better than the dreams, better than anything he could have cooked up in his head in a moment of weakness where he was alone in his room late at night...

Dean adjusted easily, holding Dempsey's weight against the wall, one hand going underneath to support the weight, but the other around to hold him close. He swallowed the whimper, hungry for more, but still drinking in as much as he could. This wasn't the place, this was risky, Dean never dallied in public spaces, but he was too impatient to suggest trying to move. The sting of the rejection at the last invitation was still fresh in his head and he still didn't know how far to take it now, but fuck if he was going to let go yet.

First he needed to find out just how far Dempsey was willing to go. He pressed his hips tighter, moving just slightly to up the friction as he finally broke the kiss, to move his mouth down Dempsey's neck. The hand around Dempsey's waist pulled eagerly at his shirt, fingers seeking skin beneath the frustrating layers between them.