The connection sizzles with memories, familiar but distant, like a hazy vision lingering on the periphery. Blake tries not to chase it, worried that it will vanish entirely if he hurtles at it like a man desperate for a truth (maybe not even the truth). He feels out of sorts, untethered from any reality, which is an uncomfortable feeling, especially compared to his tactile hold on this genuine and alive person.
His eyes ping around, flicking naturally between Dean's eyes and eyebrows, over crow's feet and smile lines that twist for this forlorn explanation. The urge to relieve him of that twitches Blake's nerves throughout and he has to fight not to utterly dismiss anything Dean might say as inconsequential after everything they've shared. His heart says it shouldn't matter, but it does matter. His mind screams it can't matter, but that's cowardice reeling against the chance that this might end the moment Dean confesses something too far over some line.
"I know," he says after a too-long pause where he fights himself for an appropriate purchase. Overstepping has its place, but relieving Dean of that concern without hearing him out could do more harm than good. "Least I can do is hear you out," Blake adds, his grip tightening gently. "When you're ready." And not a second before. If that's now, then so be it, but Dean gets the choice regardless; they're barely seconds from that life by comparison and that takes some real fucking thought.
Buckling to impulse, he pulls Dean into a hug, tightly wrapping an arm around him and closing his eyes. "But if you need me, I've got you." Before or after, now or later.
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His eyes ping around, flicking naturally between Dean's eyes and eyebrows, over crow's feet and smile lines that twist for this forlorn explanation. The urge to relieve him of that twitches Blake's nerves throughout and he has to fight not to utterly dismiss anything Dean might say as inconsequential after everything they've shared. His heart says it shouldn't matter, but it does matter. His mind screams it can't matter, but that's cowardice reeling against the chance that this might end the moment Dean confesses something too far over some line.
"I know," he says after a too-long pause where he fights himself for an appropriate purchase. Overstepping has its place, but relieving Dean of that concern without hearing him out could do more harm than good. "Least I can do is hear you out," Blake adds, his grip tightening gently. "When you're ready." And not a second before. If that's now, then so be it, but Dean gets the choice regardless; they're barely seconds from that life by comparison and that takes some real fucking thought.
Buckling to impulse, he pulls Dean into a hug, tightly wrapping an arm around him and closing his eyes. "But if you need me, I've got you." Before or after, now or later.