"Nope," is all he says. He has to focus a little when he massages that lotion in all over a body that his hands are getting to know so damn well. Just so he doesn't get distracted and have too much fun with it.

And again he's kinda proud of himself for not reacting. Not that he doesn't have an endless arsenal of dick withering thoughts to draw from when need be...

With the Impala cleaned and "waxed", Dean wraps him in a guest robe, and then has the clarity to take off his own wet boxers and wrap a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom.

"I'm gonna go get you some clothes," he explains before he goes in search of FDR. There's no way he would raid the guy's closet without asking first. He's not stupid.

But he is stupid enough to come up behind the angry lion and wrap his arms around his waist.