[He snorts again and leans in closer, stealing Dean's hand to press it to his shoulder, where the tattoo used to be.] I told her about what I do after work. [Although he's pretty sure he didn't explicitly mention the sex. Just the smoking and the drinking and the tattoos. Just the general stuff no one would have expected of him, that he was all too happy to show the rest of the fleet at the time, his frustration already starting to brim all the way back then.

He'd push it, get a little teasing, maybe even offer a demonstration, but then Dean is getting strangely thoughtful. He settles back down, semi-consciously letting their hands stay loosely connected, leaning his head against the couch as he watches him think.] I just meant that it's not really all that surprising. There are a few multi-world theories that would account for it. [But he tries to take his nerd glasses off and put his... not-boyfriend face on, instead.] You are friend with most of them, anyway, aren't you? You're friends with half the damn ship.