"What look?" It's knee-jerk, to deny it ever existing in the first place, and suddenly Dean's arms around his waist feels more like a weight than a comfort, just because he knows how these moments go. So he slides out of it before Dean can hold him still and demand an honest answer.

"I'll go see what I've got." He's not retreating. He's just...diverting and he heads over to the dresser himself to dig through casual t-shirts and sweat pants.