The inside of Dylan's mouth felt sticky and his face tingled. He raised a hand to bat at his nose and shifted on the couch, lowering his head from Mac's shoulder and down to his stomach. "You're so -thick." He murmured, setting the flat of his hand down in front of his face. "Don't have to force feed you." He pressed his cheek down against Mac's middle. He swallowed again, trying to clear away the odd, unfamiliar feeling in his mouth and his head. He curled his legs up on the couch beside him. "I'm tired." He murmured, "But warm, and-" He reached up his arm to lightly set it about Mac's waist, "Safe."