Any other day, maybe, that could have been how things wound up. But for some reason, today isn't one of those days.

Feeling his tongue pushing for entry, Dean parts his lips slowly, only slightly hesitant as his brain struggles to catch up with what is going on here. Then there's a new flavor in his mouth--definitely liquor, but not the stuff he had been swilling all night--and his body is flooded with a hazy heat, like liquid warmth, and his mind gives up trying to catch up then and there. Instead, he lets out a low noise, tilting his head and parting his lips further to let his tongue explore as much as it wants to.