John stares back, fairly certain he's probably vibrating from the awkwardness of this moment. But then Dean finally, finally responds and...what?

"What?"

What. All he does is talk sometimes, like. Even when he's been feeling crappy, he's better at talking than most things. Or, well, not better. Just. More eager about it? And to be fair, a lot of it is through text, but he...gets the feeling Dean's going further than that. Like in the future he's just put himself on mute and that's.

Uh.

That's a little scary.

He opens and closes his mouth once or twice before Dean continues, asking a question John has a more simple answer for. "Sugar. And snickerdoodles. In the shape of dicks. Because dickerdoodles."

He...will ask about the mute thing later. He isn't sure Dean would know why he stopped talking, but. Maybe he can figure something out anyway.

"They're in my room, if you want to come with me. Or I can go get them and you can make sure you got all the yelling out of your system."