It's not, exactly, that Dean is either bored or not listening when Titus starts - in fact it only becomes obvious that his full attention was not engaged when Titus has paused for breath, because now it certainly is. He's forgotten about his thigh and his arm, the green eyes dark and steady on the other man's face. You're fucking kidding me. No fucking way. Finally... If this had been a few years ago, that would've been the end of it: Dean would've just tried to haul Titus by the wrist to find Sam, and that would've been that. Instead, besides the shift in static body language - his shoulders have gone tense, too, and his fidgeting has stopped with the shift in his focus - he makes no overt outward changes, shaking his head and speaking as reassuringly as he can.

"Nah - I don't think you're nuts. In fact, I wanna hear more, and I want you to meet someone. Would you mind if we went to find my brother, and you can tell us both?" It's his best Talking to Civilians voice, though he tends to have more luck with the ladies, as it were; he gives it a moment, and adds almost casually, "Or I can go get him and bring him here, if that's better. Up to you, ace."

Dean has already begun to ease himself off the counter, carefully transferring his weight back onto both feet.