"Ohh, please don't apologize," Morgan giggled. "I'm pretty sure that as hard as they try, they aren't going to start not burning things. I've been spoiled by your cooking."
Morgan had been gesturing with his hands, something he did often, when he was excited. When he stopped to take a breath, one landed on his chest. The other fell by his side, brushing over Dean's shoulder in the process. Morgan didn't remember when the boy's shirt had come off, but he wasn't complaining. His skin was warm, and flushed from the alcohol.