Dean could feel the change in her kiss, and her words echoed in his head, though it only served to confuse him even more. He thought she understood what this was going to be, but he realized she probably had no more idea than he did. What were they doing?

Was he giving her anything if this was all he had to offer?

Worried that she was going to get the wrong impression completely now (though what the fuck was the right impression in this situation?), his lips moved from hers, along her jawline, to brush against her earlobe.

"I've never lied about what you mean to me," he confided in a quiet murmur. "What you've brought... it's... new to me." He tried to convey the weight of what that meant in his emphasis, but he was never good with words in these scenarios. "I can't imagine... losin' it."

It was the closest he could get to telling her how much he loved her, if only in a way that varied from the way she loved him, but was no less important to him. He gave up on trying to explain it, instead draping lingering kisses down the skin of her neck. He found himself running into the collar of her flannel over-shirt, and his hands moved to seamlessly slide the shirt back off from her shoulders so that his lips didn't have to halt for long.