Aidan didn't hesitate, he turned toward the bartender and asked for a bucket and three shots of tequila. All three were for Dean. He didn't let the guy blow him off, either, he stood and stared until his requests were filled.
He set the bucket between Dean's feet and lined the shots up close by.
"Are you okay? I mean, I know you're not okay. But you look really bad." Aidan looked at the bartender again, deciding that Dean was past the point of caring who saw him ice his junk. "Ice. I need ice. In a baggy or something. Hurry."
While he waited for the ice, Aidan pushed back a couple of people. He didn't want them to get mad if they got vomit on them - he wasn't in the mood for a fight - and he wanted Dean to have air.